Saul is lying awkwardly on his side. The angel’s fallen across him, pinning him down. One of his legs is sticking out at the sort of angle a leg shouldn’t make. The other leg’s bleeding from a small dark wound – the place where the bullet from his own gun went in. The gun’s lying a couple of metres away.
‘Adam!’ Saul yells. ‘Get this off me.’
I sit up carefully, testing out my arms and legs. I’m okay.
He tries to twist around, but his body will only move so far. He braces himself against the angel, grips it with both hands and tries to shift it. It don’t move.
I get to my feet and take a step towards him.
For a moment he thinks I’m going to help. Then I bend down and pick up his gun. I hold it in both hands, looking at it, feeling its weight.
‘You won’t do it. You know you won’t,’ he says.
I stretch my arm out so there’s a line from my right eye to the barrel of the gun to Saul’s forehead. His eyes are fixed on mine. Sarah’s number stares at me. My finger tightens on the trigger.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a movement. A shadow streaks across the ground and around the back of a grave. I turn my head in time to see the wormy tail disappearing.
Saul’s seen it, too.
‘Put the gun down and get me out of here,’ he says. ‘There’s a rat. It’s near me. It’s on me, Adam. Get me out of here.’
He flaps his arms at the dark space where his legs are trapped and for the first time I notice his hands. They’re red, like he’s wearing scarlet gloves.
‘Whose blood is that?’ I ask.
‘What?’ He’s still thrashing his arms about. ‘Get away! What?’
‘Whose blood have you got on your hands?’
He stops for a second and looks at his own fingers.
‘Mine, you bastard. You broke my nose.’
It’s true, his nose is bleeding. There’s a dark stream dripping down to his mouth and a streak smeared across his face. He’s wiped it once, that’s all. It doesn’t explain his hands.
Another rat trots along the top of the angel’s wing and balances on the end, sniffing the foggy air, before clambering down towards Saul.
If they’re interested in Saul and his blood, then Sarah needs me more than ever. I could shoot Saul. I could kick his head in. But I think there’s something worse.
‘Rot in hell, Saul,’ I say. And then I turn and start running away. It takes him a couple of seconds to realise what I’m doing, for it to sink in. Then he starts pleading, gabbling the words out in desperation.
‘Adam, Adam, come back please. Don’t leave me here with them. Just move the stone. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll give Sarah back her number. Adam. Adam!’
I run through the graves as his shouts turn to roars. Shadows scatter to left and right as I blunder along.
There’s another shape up ahead, a lump or a heap on the ground. There are rats there too, blurring the edges, darting, moving, shifting. Then something else moves. A pale flash, thrashing from side to side and I look again. It’s not one heap, it’s two. By the side of the bigger heap, there’s a small one, a tiny bundle. The bundle’s making a noise. Oh my God, it’s the baby.
It only takes a few seconds before I’m there. Rats shriek as I crunch them underfoot. I tuck Saul’s gun into my waistband, reach down and scoop the baby up. She’s crying and her eyes are tight shut. There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than look at my daughter now, stare at her, take her in, but I’m drawn to the other heap on the ground.
It’s Sarah.
Her skin is pale as the marble slabs around her. Her eyes are closed. There are rats swarming on her legs. I sweep them away with my feet. They come back for more, but I kick at them and stamp on them until at last they thin out. I crouch down.
‘Sarah.’
I know she’s got Saul’s number. 1622029. Am I too late to even say goodbye?
My eyes run down over her body. Her legs are covered in blood. I keep hold of the baby and take Sarah’s hand in mine. It’s wet. I turn it over and flinch at the vivid red lines across the palms, the flaps of skin either side. She’s been cut with a knife. Someone’s cut her.
‘He did it,’ I say to myself. ‘He did this to you.’ Saul’s roars are still ringing round the place and I think, whatever’s happening to him right now, it isn’t enough.
Her hand is cold, but not stone cold, and I feel a flutter of hope. I lean in closer to her and hold my hand just in front of her open mouth.
She’s breathing.
‘Sarah? Sarah? It’s me. Adam. Can you hear me?’
Her eyes flicker open. She's alive, but I can hardly bear to look. I don’t want to see it. Death in her eyes.
Then my stomach flips and I stare and stare.
2022054.
She hasn’t got Saul’s number. She’s got Mia’s.
Chapter 47: Sarah
I open my eyes and he’s there. It’s Adam, but it’s Adam like I’ve never seen him before. There’s a light around him, red and gold. I close my eyes and open them again. It’s the same. I don’t understand.
He’s kneeling next to me, holding the baby. Mia was bathed in gold light and now the baby’s lying in a twinkling silver-white glow, so bright its purity almost hurts my eyes. Adam’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
‘Sarah …’ he says. ‘You’re alive. Thank God.’ He’s frowning, though, searching my eyes.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I’ll tell you later.’
His eyes are locked on mine, confused. Can he see these colours too? Has someone flicked a switch somewhere and flushed the world through with light?
‘What colour am I?’ I say.
‘What?’
‘I can see your colours now. You’re red and gold, like your nan always said. Like Mia’s drawing. What colour am I?’
‘I dunno. I can’t see ’em.’
It’s me. Something’s changed in me, my mind, my eyes. And then I realise. Saul looked into my eyes, took my number and gave me his. 1622029 – it flashed through my mind as he ripped my life out of me. And Mia looked again and took his. So that must mean … I’ve got hers. And everything that comes with it. I’m looking at the world through her eyes, through Val’s eyes.
‘I’ve got their number, haven’t I, Adam, Val’s and Mia’s? That’s what you can see, isn’t it? Isn’t it?’
He presses his lips together. He hates to tell, always has.
‘It’s okay. You don’t need to say it. I know. 2022054.’
For a moment, I think he’s going to cry.
Then something moves on my leg, something scratchy, tickly. I jerk it instinctively. Adam wheels round and hits out.
‘What is it?’ I say.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘It’s gone.’
‘What has?’ But he won’t answer me.
I try to prop myself up on my elbows. Not far away someone’s shouting, filling the air with their noise.
‘Can you sit up?’ he says.
‘I don’t know.’
He helps me, and I shuffle backwards and lean against a gravestone.
The baby’s crying in his arms.
‘Give her to me,’ I say. He gently hands her over. She’s moving her head to the left and right, mouth open wide. I start to push my top up, getting ready to feed her. ‘She’s hungry. Our daughter’s hungry.’ I look at Adam, expecting some sort of response, a smile, a loving gesture.
‘Can you do that standing up?’ Adam says. ‘It’d be better if you could stand.’
He’s glancing over his shoulder, looking in front of us and behind.
‘Not really,’ I say. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. It’s all right. Carry on.’
‘Adam, what’s that noise?’
He looks at me and his eyes are haunted.
I don’t ask again.
I try and get comfortable. The baby knows what to do. She
latches on and even here, in a graveyard in the fog, her suckling relaxes me. It’s me and her, doing what mothers and babies have done for the whole of time. Her head is covered by my clothes, but her little legs and feet are sticking out. I could look at them for ever, but I don’t want her getting cold. I wrap my coat round them.
I bet Mia’s cold without her blanket. Now we’re settled, she could snuggle in too. She’s here somewhere. She was singing to me before I went to sleep. Before she gave me her number.
Just now my mind stopped at the realisation that I’ve got Val’s number. It was so astonishing I didn’t take the next step. But I do now. If Mia gave me her number, then what number has she got? She must have Saul’s.
I start to shiver violently.
I look up. Adam’s got a huge branch in his hands. He’s sweeping it across the ground in big semi-circles. Animals scatter in all directions as the brushy twigs reach towards them. Rats.
But there’s no sign of Mia anywhere.
Adam turns to look at me and the baby and we both speak at the same time, our mouths mirroring each other’s.
‘Where’s Mia?’
Chapter 48: Adam
I leave Sarah the branch to defend herself with and I start running. Mia could be anywhere, but I’m drawn towards Saul. He’s still roaring and it sounds like the noise I heard every time I looked in his eyes, before today. It sounds like 1622029. But he’s changed. He’s got a number that should never be his. He’s not dying … is he?
I get nearer and the noise goes quieter. I can still hear him, but his voice is softer, whining, pleading. He’s talking to someone.
I speed up, dodging and weaving, trying to find the quickest route. And then I see him. He’s where I left him, but he’s not alone. Mia’s next to him, squatting down. She’s touching his face. He’s touching hers. Around them, the ground is black with rats.
All I need to do is make contact, like this, look into your eyes and reach inside.
‘No! No, Mia, get away! Get away from him!’
Still touching Saul, Mia twists round.
‘Daddee!’
She leaves Saul and starts running towards me, as waves of rats fan out from her feet. I hurtle towards her but just before I get to her, she slips on a slimy stone and falls, scraping her knee. She starts to howl, but it’s nothing compared to Saul’s noise now. His roar could split the sky. It fills my ears, blotting out every other sound. My head’s saturated with noise – it’s making me deaf, disconnected. I’m seeing everything like I wasn’t there, like this was happening to someone else. I’m watching the action unfold on a screen.
I reach Mia and she looks up at me from the ground. There’s tears all over her face, her cheeks are streaked with blood and dirt – she’s a picture of distress. But her number tells me something else. It’s all about happy endings, warmth and love.
2572075.
She’s got Sarah’s number. She must have grabbed it back from Saul. So Saul’s got …?
‘Come here! Come back!’ Saul bellows.
I look beyond Mia to where he’s writhing on the ground, reaching out towards us, fingers grasping at nothing. He stops squirming and looks at me.
‘Adam.’
He’s not shouting any more, but I can still hear the sound in my head. It’s echoing round and round as his number shocks me over and over again, like an electric fence plugged into my brain. He’s got it, the number he had when I met him, the number he tried to get rid of. It’s come back to him.
1622029. Today.
‘Adam! Adam! Get me out of here! These things, they’re eating me alive! Help me!’
‘I can’t do it, Saul,’ I say.
‘Of course you can. I can’t get any purchase, but you can. You can lift it enough for me to—’ He stops and his face changes. ‘You mean you won’t do it, don’t you? But you have to, Adam. The girl’s tricked me. She gave the sixteenth back to me. I need to get out, I need to …’
‘You need to take my number or hers. It’s not going to happen, Saul.’
‘Not yours. Not yours, Adam. I wouldn’t do that to you. There are hundreds of people back there. Help me find a good number, then I’ll leave you alone. You’ll be free to go. No one following you, No one on your tail. I promise. I promise, Adam.’
I bend down and pick up Mia. I wipe her tears with my thumb. She wraps her arms round my neck and her legs round my middle. I don’t think anyone’s ever held me that tight before.
‘It’s all right,’ I say to her. ‘Let’s go and find Mum, shall we?’
I look at Saul one last time. There’s a rat crawling over his face.
‘Adam, come back, I won’t touch you. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. We can help each other. Don’t leave me here. Adam, don’t leave me. Adam, please. Please! PLEASE!’
I turn around and I start running.
‘You’re killing me, Adam. You’re a murderer!’
‘No, Saul,’ I shout as I run, ‘I’m letting someone else live.’
He unleashes his animal roar. It’s the sound of reality catching up with him. No one’s gonna rescue him. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. And now it’s coming true. Two hundred and fifty years coming to an end. It tears at me with every step, but it don’t pull me back.
Saul – his twisted views, his cruel, selfish everlasting life – belongs in the past.
I’ve got one daughter in my arms, another taking her first breaths on earth and a girl I’ve loved since the moment I saw her. Saul knew nothing about love, or if he ever did, he forgot it. I won’t make his mistakes.
I’m running towards the future.
Chapter 49: Sarah
Red and gold, coming towards me through the stones. The colours of fire. Mia’s golden flame merges with Adam’s. He may not be her biological dad, but they blend together. They look like they belong. And, thank God, they belong to me.
‘Mia!’ I cry.
Her pale face is smudged with mud. She’s clinging on to Adam as if her life depended on it.
‘Are you all right, sweetheart? Come here.’
She won’t let go of him. Won’t, can’t speak. Her eyes are open, glassy, traumatised.
What on earth has she been through? What has she seen?
‘Where did you find her?’
He puts his hand on the side of her head, holding her closer, covering her ear.
‘With Saul,’ he says quietly.
‘What happened?’
He shakes his head.
‘Later,’ he says. ‘We’ll talk later.’
‘But her number, Adam. What about her number?’
‘It’s all right,’ he says. ‘Her number’s good now.’
The roaring cries in the fog go up a pitch, turning into piercing screams.
‘That’s him, isn’t it?’ I tip my head towards the noise.
‘It’ll stop soon,’ he says. He closes his eyes briefly and I know what he’s thinking. Please stop now. Make the noise stop.
But a few minutes later, the silence is almost worse than the screams. It sits heavily in the fog, clinging to the branches above our heads, the wet leaves on the ground.
And I know without a shadow of a doubt. In the end he couldn’t escape his number.
It came back to him.
Mia gave it back.
For a while the only sound is the rustle of rats. Adam keeps them away – stamping, kicking, sweeping the branch around. Then we hear the buzz of a drone overhead. We’re sitting ducks, at least Mia and Adam are with their silicon Judases lodged under their skin. But it’s not uniformed soldiers we see emerging through the fog – it’s ordinary folk armed with pieces of wood or bits of railing or not armed at all. Their auras merge together in a rainbow haze. They’re dazzling.
Adam draws Saul’s gun when we first see them, but he soon puts it away. There’s a whole crowd of them, women as well as men.
The guy at the front isn’t carrying any weapons and his pale-blue eyes light up when he sees the f
our of us. His colour is blue, too. It brings me calmness and confidence before he’s even spoken.
‘You found them, then,’ he says to Adam.
‘Yeah,’ Adam says. ‘This is Sarah, and Mia. And this is our daughter.’
The man crouches down.
‘I’m Simon,’ he says to me. ‘If you can walk, I’d like to take you back to the abbey. We have food there, and shelter. It’ll be safer for you all.’
One of the women comes forward. She’s brought cotton sheets, towels and clean clothes, and a soothing green presence. She tells me she’s a midwife, Alona, and she ushers the others, including Simon, away. She helps me get cleaned up, wraps bandages round my cut hands, wipes the blood and muck off the baby, then wraps her tightly in a sheet, so that only her little face is showing. I beckon her nearer.
‘The baby,’ I say, ‘she hasn’t got …’ I glance at Adam. He’s looking after Mia and talking with Simon. I lower my voice. ‘She hasn’t got any eyes.’ Alona frowns. ‘Have you seen a baby like this before?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, but I’ve heard about cases. It’s a developmental thing, but the child can be perfectly healthy otherwise.’ She puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘All her vital signs are very good. She’s a beautiful girl.’ And she is. Her face is like a little apple. Her silver-white light nearly takes my breath away.
Alona helps me to my feet. I’m wobbly but I’m able to walk slowly. I carry the baby and Adam carries Mia. Close to, I can see that her light is flecked with strange dark spots, scorch marks in her golden flame.
When we get nearer to the gate, Adam moves to my other side and puts his arm round me.
‘Don’t look,’ he says, but it’s too late. I’ve already seen the mass of rats, tattered flesh and bare bone that is all that’s left of Saul.
We leave the graveyard the way we came in and turn into the cobbled street. As we walk, I’m remembering the sea of filth outside the abbey. Everyone’s being so kind, I don’t know how to say I don’t want to camp there, but when we turn the corner into the abbey square, I don’t see dirt and rubbish, I see people in all their rich, colourful variety. My spirits soar. My eyes have been opened to the world – I feel like I’m seeing it how it should be seen.