Only a Monster(Monsters #1)(28)

Joan looked around at the crowd. These were all people. They’d come here for a bit of spectacle and a few photos. Maybe afterward they’d have a soft serve with a Flake. What kind of person would steal life from them? Only a monster would do that.

‘Can you do it or not?’ Aaron sounded impatient.

If she didn’t do it, then Gran and Ruth and Bertie and Aunt Ada and Uncle Gus were dead. They were really dead. They really would have died last night. Joan squeezed her hands into fists and nodded.

‘Then watch and learn,’ Aaron said.

With little effort, Aaron transformed himself into a tourist. He untucked his nice shirt, making it look almost comfortable. He put on the ugly floppy hat he’d bought. Then he pushed into the crowd, phone raised, taking photos of the palace. As he walked, the edge of his hand caught a woman’s neck—apparently accidentally. He walked a little farther and then stopped suddenly to take another photo, making people stumble into him from behind. Aaron stumbled in turn, hand flinging up for balance, brushing people’s necks. Joan saw him mouth sorry, sorry as he pushed his phone by people’s ears to get the right angle. It looked like an accident every time.

After a few minutes, he pushed his way back to Joan. It took him a while. The crowd was still growing.

‘Your turn,’ he said. ‘Ten days from each person. That’s two school weeks. Monday to Friday. Then Monday to Friday again.’

Joan’s stomach churned. ‘Two school weeks,’ she echoed. Back of the neck. It was difficult to summon the idea of school. It felt like something from a whole other world.

Aaron passed his water bottle over a man’s shoulder. The man gave Aaron an irritated look as the bottle went by his ear. Joan reached for it, her hand shaking. The man was around thirty years old and wearing a T-shirt with a dinosaur on it: a T-rex on a children’s slide, its little arms waving in delight.

Joan let the edge of her hand brush the man’s neck. It was awkward touching a stranger like this. He was sweating slightly. His hand came up to swat at the touch. Joan snatched her hand away.

It’s okay, Aaron mouthed. Around them, the rumble of the crowd was beginning to rise. The drums and trumpets were getting louder. Joan craned around people’s shoulders and heads and raised arms and phones. She glimpsed red coats on the long strip of the Mall. The new guards were coming.

Aaron stopped abruptly. A woman in a sun hat collided with him. Joan collided with the woman in turn, almost tripping over her shoes. Aaron gave Joan a meaningful look.

Joan let her hand fall against the woman’s shoulder, as though regaining balance. She shifted her thumb to touch the woman’s neck. She could feel Aaron’s eyes on her.

Take time, she told herself.

She couldn’t feel anything.

I’m taking time, she thought hopefully.

Through the crowd, she could see more red coats and tall tufted hats. The thump, thump, thump of the drums was getting closer.

A flash of movement caught her eyes. Aaron was gesturing at her to drop her hand. Joan had been too slow.

Joan pushed down the beginnings of panic. What if she couldn’t figure this out?

‘Breathe,’ Aaron murmured. ‘You just need to concentrate.’ He moved away again, putting a man between them. He held up his water bottle, and Joan reached over the man’s shoulder for it.

The new man was heavyset, with dark hair. Joan let the edge of her hand shift against his neck. Concentrate, she told herself fiercely.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t here in a crowd, outside Buckingham Palace. She was at home in Milton Keynes. It was a school morning. Monday morning. She imagined fumbling with the alarm. Pulling on her blue-and-mustard uniform. The bell on Monday afternoon. Tuesday. Then Mr Larch’s noisy history class on Wednesday. Thursday. The happy sound of the last bell on Friday afternoon. Then Monday again. Wednesday again. Friday again.

Nothing happened. Joan tightened her grip on the bottle. She was trying her hardest, and it still wasn’t working.

She opened her eyes and shook her head at Aaron.

She moved to shift away from the man, and then she was choking on it. Time ran into her like a jolt of strong coffee, like butterflies before an exam. Energy, intense and insistent, flowed through her. It felt horrible. It felt incredible.

Someone was there suddenly. Aaron. He tugged her hand, guiding it away from the man’s neck.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

Joan breathed out shakily. She nodded.

Aaron took time as naturally as breathing. Joan struggled with every take. She knew she was being too slow. She could see Aaron becoming more and more tense as the ceremony drew closer. His eyes were everywhere—tracking every phone, scanning the crowd.

As the guards reached the palace, the crowd became so dense that it was difficult to move. Joan slowed down even more. She took time, then painstakingly shifted and squeezed to the next person.

She tried to concentrate on the mechanical act of it, but as she did, she found her mind returning to the Gilt Room. To Nick’s grave face as he’d said: If you ever steal time from a human again, I will kill you myself. I won’t hesitate.

She was stealing time from these people. She was a monster. She felt so fucking ugly inside. And at the same time, she wanted to scream at Nick: Why did you have to kill my family?

The next man was wearing a hoodie. Strange for such a warm day. Joan pushed the hood aside.