London Eye: 1 (Toxic City)(61)

“Are you going home?” Emily asked, and a dark cloud touched Ruben's face.

“Yes, dear,” he said. “All the way home.”

“Thanks for taking a bullet out of my guts with your bare hands,” Jenna said, raising her bottle of water in a toast.

“Any time.”

“Bloody hope not!” Sparky said, and they all laughed.

As they left, Rosemary took a quick look around the house, her expression blank. “Doubt we'll use this place again,” she said.

“Why not?” asked Emily.

“Too dangerous, dear. I've stayed here three times myself, and Ruben a couple of times. Too much activity attracts attention.”

“So it'll just stay shut up?” Jack asked.

“Yes. Once we're out, I'll drop the key down a gutter grating.”

Sparky checked that the coast was clear before they trailed out into the street. It was still early, only seven thirty, and the air was cool and clear. Pigeons cooed softly from window sills and rooftops, a scruffy ginger cat strolled without care along the middle of the road, but apart from that all was quiet.

Rosemary pulled the door closed until it clicked. Jack didn't like thinking about the empty house, and how it could be like that forever. They had filled it with life for a night, and even some love, and now it stood alone and abandoned once again, one of many sad monuments to the foolishness of humanity. There were a hundred thousand buildings like this all over London. Houses were built to be lived in, not left empty, home only to the dust of memories.

They walked along the street, and when they came to a gutter Rosemary dropped the key through the grating. Jack heard a faint splash, and the house was lost to them. If anyone ever explored its insides again, they would have to smash down the door or break a window first.

He noticed Sparky and Jenna share a glance and wondered what they were thinking right then.

Ruben said his goodbyes, sparing Rosemary a hug. They seemed very close. Jack and his friends gave their quiet thanks, then the fat man sauntered away, his incredible hands swinging by his sides. There goes another miracle, Jack thought. The city killed by humans seemed full of miracles today.

Rosemary huddled them together at the end of the street. She listened for a minute, head cocked, but there was nothing to hear except the birds.

“It's not too far until we go back belowground,” she said. “As I told you, Jack, she spends most of her time down in the old Tube station. But I promised to be honest with you from now on, so I have to tell you, the place is disguised. And it's protected from the Choppers.”

“Protected how?” he asked, instantly fearing the worst. Alligators? Lions? Monsters?

“There are two people down there, boy and girl twins, whose seventh sense has been incredibly boosted.”

“Seventh?” Emily asked.

“That's what they call it, for want of a better description. They can project images and ideas onto people's minds. It's remarkable…and it can be really quite disturbing, too. Everyone who goes down there has to pass through the twins’ projections. Those who should know about the hospital can work through them, because they know the images are false. Anyone else…they wouldn't go very far.”

“What sort of images?” Jack asked.

Rosemary pursed her lips. “They won't be very nice. But I'll tell you when we're getting closer, and you'll all have to…”

“Work through it,” Jenna finished for her.

“Yes, dear.”

“Piece of cake,” Sparky said. Jenna glanced at him and smiled, and Jack felt the growing warmth between the two of them. It made him feel good.

“Maybe Lucy-Anne will be down there,” he said. But no one answered, and he realised it was a vain hope.

They set off, walking through the early morning streets and watching the wildlife. It was unsettling, and yet beautiful, how so many animals had made the devastated city their home, as if nature had been patiently awaiting its moment. All the usual birds that Jack would expect to see in a city were there; pigeons, sparrows, starlings, blackbirds, magpies, and the occasional robin. But he also saw a woodpecker, wrens, a kingfisher skimming a canal, goldfinches, siskins, and several pairs of buzzards circling with their offspring. The untempered plant growth throughout the city sustained many more seed-eating birds, and close behind them came the birds of prey.

The birdsong barely lessened as they walked along the street. The creatures were confident. That, Jack thought, was the unsettling part of it. This was no longer a city of people where the birds had to find their own way to survive. Now, the situation had been reversed.