The fabled white light. So many people spoke of it over the years. The light at the end of the tunnel, beckoning on the dead, guiding souls towards their final resting place. I thought it was a myth, but it’s ahead of me now, warm and bright, welcoming me home. I smile and reach towards it.
“No,” someone says, pushing my arms down. “Stay still a while longer, please. I haven’t finished mopping up the liquid.”
I think about that, frowning. It’s a strange thing for a celestial being to say.
Then, as my senses start to swim back into place, I become aware of a towel draped over my head, a sponge being dabbed around the inside of my stomach. The light isn’t a heavenly, other-worldly ball. It’s the glow of a bulb.
I try pushing myself away and shouting, but my mouth is full of overgrown teeth. I can only moan.
“Easy,” the voice comes again. “You have nothing to fear. I’m looking after you.”
I want to ask who it is and what’s happening, but I can’t produce any words. Since I’m in a helpless position, I relax and let the person go about their business. Memories return and it doesn’t take me long to realize where I am and what must be going on.
I told the twins and Ciara the bad news, and what I was planning next. They were distraught, but the twins hid from their gloom as best they could by promising to go and release Mr. Burke, saving me some time. They were going to search for Dr. Oystein after that, to help him any way they could if he was still alive. Their love for him hadn’t diminished, regardless of what he’d done.
Ciara stayed in the Bow Quarter and said she’d keep things running smoothly. In case any of the Angels returned. Loyal to the end. She held herself together while we were there, but I’m sure she wept bitterly for Reilly when we left.
After a long, hard trek, I made it to New Kirkham and told Jakob about the Dowling brothers, the viruses, how things had played out. He thanked me for delivering the news, promised to inform the others in the settlement, but advised me to get the hell out of there before he did.
“They’ll hate you,” he said sadly. “And me, for my association with you. They might even kill me for being the bearer of the message, but there’s no reason for you to be killed too.”
I begged Jakob to come with me, but he wouldn’t budge. He regarded the citizens of New Kirkham as his people now and he was determined to see out his days there, even if the reward for his loyalty was execution. He wished me well, told me not to blame myself and helped slip me out.
The journey back to London was an agonizing nightmare. I could barely walk more than a few steps without having to stop and recuperate. I’ll never know how I made it—sheer stubbornness, I suppose. Must have taken me three or four days.
But finally I staggered back into County Hall. It had been ransacked and badly burnt in places by Mr. Dowling’s mutants, but luckily for me they hadn’t touched the Groove Tubes. They were empty, so I filled one, undressed, blew a farewell kiss to the world and clambered in.
That should have been the end of matters, but someone must have found me and dragged me out, either because they thought I needed help or because they wanted me to be around for the pain and hurt. Looks like I won’t be skipping the end of the world after all.
I try not to feel too much resentment as the person tending me swabs out my nostrils and ear canals with cotton buds. I probably didn’t deserve an easy exit, not after all I’d done. It’s apt that I was hauled out to bear witness to the destruction. I won’t complain or ask to be returned to the Tube. As the old saying goes, it’s a fair cop.
“Tilt your head back and open your mouth wide,” the person says. My ears must still be partly blocked because I can’t make out if it’s a man or a woman.
Whoever it is, he or she slides a drill up under the towel and sets to work on my teeth, first removing the remains of the false ones that Mr. Dowling installed, then focusing on my oversized fangs. I’m amazed they’ve sprouted as much as they have. I can only have been in the Groove Tube a few days. Maybe the doc found a way to strengthen the solution since I last went for a refreshing dip.
The drilling goes on for ages. The person works carefully, like a dentist, stopping every few minutes to let my teeth cool down. When we’re getting close to the end, he or she sets the drill aside and finishes the job with a sturdy metal file.
I try to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Wait,” I’m told. “The device in your throat needs to be replaced.”
A hand sneaks up inside me, through the gap where my lungs should be, and fiddles with the little pumping mechanism on the inner wall of my throat, which Mr. Dowling had inserted. The person talks while fitting me with a new speech box.
“You’re lucky that your stomach wall was cut away. It makes cleaning out the liquid a much simpler task. No need for an enema this time.”
I chuckle mutely, thanking Heaven for small mercies.
There’s a bit more tinkering, then the person steps back and says, “Try that.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask.
“Amazing! So clear, after all this time.”
“After all what time?” I grumble, trying to take off the towel so that I can get a good look at whoever I’m talking to.
“Easy.” The person stops me. “We’ll be able to operate on your eyes, but not for a while. In the meantime I have a thick pair of sunglasses for you, made with prescription lenses. They’re more like goggles, but trust me, you’ll need them.”
I wait impatiently until the glasses are fetched and set in place. I try to get up, but my toe bones have lengthened and I almost topple over. “Sorry,” the person says. “Let me chop those off for you. I’ll do your finger bones too.”
As my personal attendant is working on the bones, I tug the towel off my head and wince as light floods in. The glasses are incredibly thick, and the room has been subtly lit, but, even so, at first it’s like staring straight into the sun.
“I did warn you,” my helper says as I cover my eyes with an arm.
“Yeah, yeah,” I snap. “Everyone’s an expert. Why don’t you…”
I stop. I’ve caught sight of my finger bones. They’ve regrown in the Tube, but are far longer than they ever were before, at least sixty or seventy centimeters. The toe bones that haven’t been trimmed yet are a similar length.
“How the hell did they grow so much?” I gasp. “What did the doc add to the solution?”
“Nothing,” comes the reply. “It’s the same as it always was.”
“But my teeth and bones never grew like this before,” I note.
“That’s because you were never in the Tube as long as you were this time.”
“What are you talking about?” I frown. “It can’t have been more than a few days, a week at most, otherwise there wouldn’t be anyone around to pull me out. Unless…”
Hope flares within me.
“Did the viruses fail?” I shout.
“No,” the person says quietly. “Clements-13 and Schlesinger-10 did what they were designed to do. Every human, zombie and mutant perished.”
“But then how… who…?”
“I’ll explain it all shortly. But I think you should shower first, after I’ve dealt with the rest of these bones. Then we will dress you. And then–”
“Sod that,” I growl, forcing myself to my feet. It takes me a few seconds to find my balance, but then I steady myself and look around.
At first the room is a ball of blinding light and my head fills with pain. But I hang tough and, gradually, the light starts to dim and objects swim into focus. I see the Groove Tube, the towel on the floor, my severed toe bones. I turn and there are the walls and door, the windows covered with thick curtains to block any outside light.
Then I turn towards the person who fished me out. The first thing I realize is that he or she is about my height and totally naked. The next thing I notice is that it’s not a he or she—this individual has no genitals. There’s just smooth flesh where the legs meet.
Stunned, my gaze shoots up. He… she… it is smiling shyly. Its hair is a dark brown color, cut tight to the scalp. I don’t recognize the face. What I do recognize, however, are the pure white eyes and the hole in its scalp.
“Holy Moly?” I wheeze.
The smile widens. My rescuer nods with delight. And says, “Hello, Mummy. It’s good to have you back.”