“The future.”
They walked on in silence, and she knew that they'd all heard the brief exchange. She wondered what they were thinking right then, of a future that seemed so short.
“Six hours,” Jack said. “We'd better hope this is all true.” It had not escaped him that they had put their futures in the hands of a ghost. And that they were following him, or it, to where he said the saviour of that future now hid.
“Yeah,” Sparky said. “We'd be hard pushed to get to a safe distance now, anyway.”
“Jack could,” Jenna said. There was no accusation in her voice at all, but Jack knew exactly what she was insinuating: that he could pass on a power to help them all escape.
And he was still fighting with that. He wasn't sure exactly what delving into that bright red star of potential would do. He was fairly certain that he could bestow powers, though he was not sure how he could choose which ones to give, nor the control he'd have over them. But he also thought it likely that he would pass on the contagion itself, just as Nomad had to him. Even thinking about it planted the taste of her finger on his tongue. In him, the threat of contagion was a bright red promise, yet it was contained. If two people possessed it, that containment was no longer assured. And if he passed it on to all of his friends…
That red star could change the world, and Jack did not feel that he had any right to do so.
But would he let his friends die? If it came down to it and they were an hour away from the explosion, would he not touch them all, give them Fleeter's power, and flee from London with them?
He wasn't at all sure. He saw the way Lucy-Anne looked at Andrew's wraith, and knew that there were some things worse than death. And if all went well, he would not even be faced with such a decision.
“We're close,” Andrew said.
“Look,” Rhali said. She had been silent since crossing the river, almost ghostlike herself. Now she pointed along the road, and only then did Jack see the movement. Perhaps Rhali had sensed it for some time.
A group of three strange people were passing across the street, emerging from a narrow side-road and clambering over stalled cars. Creatures from the north.
They ducked down low.
“Rhali?” Jack whispered.
“They're heading for the museum,” she said. “There are many more there already, and even more still travelling.” She frowned, her thin face pinched. “And there's something else.”
“What else?” Sparky asked.
“Choppers,” Rhali said. “At least, I think they're Choppers. They're moving as I'm used to seeing them moving.”
“And how's that?” Jack asked.
“Quickly.”
“Could be more of them,” Jenna said, nodding towards the shapes. A man loped like a wolf. A woman seemed to flow across the road, trailing gossamer limbs that barely touched the ground.
“So where's this man?” Jack asked. No one answered, no one moved. “Andrew!”
The wraith turned its head, and Andrew's ghost seemed to be dreaming.
“I said where's the man who can stop all this?”
“His name's Hayden,” Andrew said, pointing along the road at a multi-storey car park. “And I left him there, hiding.”
“Let's hope he listened to you,” Jack said. “If he tried to move on alone, he'll probably be dead.”
As it turned out, he had not listened.
They climbed the concrete staircase, and Andrew showed them the Range Rover where he'd told the man to wait. It was empty, doors open. There were no signs of violence, but neither was there any sign of Hayden. Wherever he'd gone, and why, he had left them no message.
“Shit!” Sparky said. “So now what?”
“Now we look for him,” Jack said.
“Something spooked him,” Sparky said. “This place sure as shit spooks me.”
Jack nodded in agreement. The car park was half-filled with cars, all of them left here two years ago by people who'd all expected to return.