47

The party raged till the sky lightened.

And then the Forevers gathered on Ocean Drive. Together they walked down to the beach, Sally at the heart of them. Maybe the shock was beginning to wear off, because when Mae looked at her she saw tears falling from Sally’s eyes.

At the bay they saw Sergeant Walters, his head down as he trudged along the sand like a man condemned to his calling.

They walked a little way behind him.

‘We could skip town,’ Mae said.

Sally shook her head. ‘I think I’m done being afraid.’

‘I won’t let him take you.’

‘None of us will,’ Matilda said.

Sally stopped then, right in front of them, and she hugged them each in turn. ‘You’ve had my back. Now it’s time for me to have yours. I’ve got this.’

They watched her walk across the sand, trailing Sergeant Walters as the water began to creep from the rocks. They knew what he’d find, they knew Sally would confess. She would die alone.

‘Are we going to let her do this?’ Mae said.

‘Hell no,’ Betty said.

They caught up with Sally and walked beside her. Five Forevers in perfect step with each other.

The moon pulled the tide.

‘All right,’ Sergeant Walters said, as his pathway cleared.

They were about to move with him when they heard it.

That familiar rumble.

This time it came from above them.

And it was louder, so loud they each took a step back into the water.

Sail was the first to notice the crack.

‘Jesus …’ Mae said.

The crack in the cliff edge was joined by another.

Betty pointed high ahead of them.

‘It’s the Prince house,’ Sergeant Walters said.

The lines snaked from the steel bunker buried deep in the earth. The bunker Jon Prince hadn’t got permission to build. The bunker that rumbled the town of West.

They watched the cliff begin to crumble. And then large chunks of rock rained down. They stood frozen as the steel of the Prince bunker was bared.

And West was silent again.

Mae was the only one to look ahead to the cove, her breath held as she saw two shapes almost uncovered.

Sergeant Walters was about to turn when the second rumble hit.

This time it was savage, so deep and loud Mae saw dozens running towards them, motioning them back.

A scream as another crack opened.

It raced along the white face of the cliff and twisted its way up till it met the graveyard high above them.

Time slowed.

The church that had stood there two hundred years began to lean towards them.

‘Run,’ Sergeant Walters shouted.

They turned and ran along the water edge. Sail helped Sally.

Only when they heard the final rumble did they stop, breathless as they turned and watched the church tear from its foundations and crash to the rocks below.

The dust cloud rose high.

In the distance Mae saw dozens run from it, then take their place at the edge of the road to watch the spectacle.

She heard screams, saw people gather and cry.

They stood there stunned, the cove gone, replaced with rubble that continued to rain down. Sergeant Walters left them and ran towards the bay, to try to seal off the area above to keep people away.

‘Jesus,’ Felix greeted them, as they arrived back at the crowd.

‘We’ve already covered that,’ Mae said.

‘The church,’ Hunter said. She stood barefoot on the sand, carrying her heels.

They were joined by others, still wearing their suits, their dresses.

‘As last nights go,’ Hugo said.

‘Yeah,’ Sail said.

They all looked up to the top of the cliff, to the gap where their faith used to be, where they spent a million Sundays asking why and pleading for more.

‘It fell on the cove?’ Sail said. ‘I’ll be damned.’

‘No, you won’t. None of us will.’

The waves lapped.

The sun rose higher.

‘We lived,’ Hugo said.

Mae didn’t notice the boy behind them.

For the second time that morning time slowed, sounds muffled, birds circled above them.

The surprised look on Hunter’s face.

The way Candice’s scream floated high above them all.

At first Hugo didn’t move, just looked at Mae and Hunter, confusion in his eyes. He smiled again as the colour drained from his face, and he dropped to his knees.

Sail tried to catch him.

And then they saw it.

The blood.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jeet Patel said, as he let the knife fall to the sand.