There were also, as Hugo had promised, girls. Three of them. Girls were still a bit of a mystery to me. Not helped by the fact I’d gone to an all-boys’ school. I’d had a girlfriend last summer, if holding hands for a couple of weeks and then being publicly dumped qualified as a girlfriend. But since then, I’d hardly managed to speak to a female I wasn’t related to. I doubted I’d have much of a chance with any of these girls either. They were each firmly attached to one of the guys in the group. By their lips in one case. I tore my eyes away from the writhing mass of flesh and slurping noises. And that’s when I saw Her.
A fourth girl, standing alone, she deserved the capital letter. She wasn’t like any girl I’d ever seen before. Her face was illuminated by the drifting light of her cigarette. She had cropped blonde hair, heavy, black eyeliner and crazy mismatched clothes: a blue military-style jacket with a bright orange hoodie underneath. She stood away from the group, as if waiting for someone and wanting to make it very clear she had nothing to do with any of us, and she was staring right at me.
I checked over my shoulder to make sure it really was me she was looking at. I’ve made that mistake before. The scrub grounds stretched out behind me, with no one in sight.
I turned back to her. She had a pale face and perfect cupid lips. They curled upward, amused by something. Her eyes flashed for a moment and then she looked away. It had just been the briefest of glances my way. Just a scan across the group. A glazed expression passed over her face and she watched Lucas, who was now trying to set fire to the tree. Whatever amused her about me seemed long forgotten. Which wasn’t surprising. Guys like me did not register to girls like her.
I took another swig of the warm beer and tried to pick up the trail of the conversation.
“No way, you’d get fried,” Seb said, his hand absentmindedly cupping the butt cheek of the red-head next to him. They were talking about the Pylon.
“No you wouldn’t,” I said, shocked at the sound of my own voice.
“Oh, yeah?” Seb said, standing up and towering over me.
I should have just backed down. Shut up. But the words kept coming. “As long as you don’t touch the ground at the same time you’d be OK. It’s a current thing. Besides, the Pylon was switched off years ago,” I finished lamely, wishing the soggy ground of the Rec would eat me up. I glugged at my beer, hoping they’d all just carry on.
“Prove it.”
I coughed. “I’m fine, thanks. I don’t want to end up like Tony. Ha Ha.” No one else was laughing. They were all staring at me, grinning. They couldn’t seriously think I’d do anything as stupid as Tony Plumber?
Every one of us knew Tony’s story. It had passed into our collective urban myth. Six years ago, to this very day, he’d come to the Rectory Grounds and climbed the Pylon. Whether it had been live then or not was still a matter of contention. But what everyone knew was that he’d climbed to the top, thrown his school tie over the wire in an act of defiance, and slipped. But he didn’t just fall. He got his trousers tangled in the wires on the way down and tore a testicle clean off. We all knew someone who knew someone who swore they were there that night to see a lone ball dangling from a wire twenty feet up, as Tony writhed on the ground. It had earned him the nickname Tony One-Plumb-er.
“I don’t see why that would bother you, Scott,” said Hugo from next to me. “It’s not like you have any balls to start with.”
I gawped at Hugo, my supposed best friend. Oh, so this is how it goes? I thought. A heady hit of life with the cool crowd and you turn on me. Well, he could have them, the Judas. I stood up and threw my empty beer can to the floor. I was off home.
Only I wasn’t.
My legs weren’t leading me back to the safety of the street. They were, beyond my control, walking me towards the Pylon.
The crew started whooping and laughing and thumping me on the back as if I was a boxer heading for the ring. I tried to tell my limbs to stop, to turn around, but they were taking orders from a different part of my brain. A part that cared what these idiots thought of me, that didn’t want to look like a coward in front of them all. As the cheers got louder and the adrenaline started flowing, that stupid, pack-mentality part of my brain took over completely. No one would call me a loser once I’d conquered the Pylon. I wouldn’t be called Scotty ‘Snotty’ Tyler any more. I’d be their hero. I’d be one of them. And She would be watching.
“What are you doing?” Hugo hissed at me. I ignored him.
My fingers curled around the wire fence. Behind it stood the Pylon, like a stunted Eiffel Tower, calling to me. The stick-figure man on the ‘DANGER OF DEATH’ sign waved me away. Or maybe it was just his body convulsing with the current. Either way he wasn’t stopping me. I hefted myself up.
Halfway, my trainers slipped in the loops of wire. There was a gasp as I clung by my fingers, legs pedalling in the air. A thought struck me. I could let go now and fall, what? Six feet? That wouldn’t be so bad. An inelegant end to what had been a stupid idea to start with, but at least it would be over.
But then I heard them chanting my name. They were chanting my goddamned name! My foot found its purchase again and I pulled myself up and over the fence. Any thoughts of quitting vanished as I landed on the other side. It was just me and my personal Everest.
I didn’t even know if I was right about the Pylon being switched off. I remembered a YouTube video of an elephant wrapping her trunk around a live wire and hitting the ground. If it could do that to a jumbo, what exactly would happen to me? Only one way to find out.
I jumped, leaping up to grab onto the first strut. I waited for the bolts of electricity to send me flying back into the fence. Nothing. I was safe. For now. The crew had fallen into a shocked silence, watching my ascent.
I stepped up to the next rung. And the next one.
“OK, you’ve made your point,” I heard Hugo say. “Now come back down!”
Before I knew what was happening, I was fifteen rungs up, only feet from the very top. A girl’s voice cried out in apparent concern. I glanced back, to see if it had been The Girl calling after me. Big mistake.
I couldn’t move. As soon as I’d looked down to the ground, everything span and my limbs froze. Oh, now you decide to stop, I said to my treacherous legs. And the worst thing? The Girl was watching. She took a drag on her cigarette, shook her head, and turned away.
What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t impressing anyone. The only thing I was going to do was get myself killed.
Sweat prickled on my forehead and it felt as if something was trying to get out of my stomach. I closed my eyes and pressed myself against the metal bar. Just one more, I said, over and over, one more strut and you can go back down.
Without opening my eyes, I stretched up a shaking hand, feeling for the metal rod above. My fingers closed around it, sharp edges cutting into my flesh. I had two hands on the final strut and I lifted my foot up.
The snap of metal was like the sound of a coffin lid slamming shut. The broken strut slipped through my fingers and I was falling, hands grasping at air, legs kicking helplessly.
A single thought flooded through my mind. Why? Why the hell hadn’t I given up when I had the chance? Why the hell was I such a complete and utter loser?
Then it happened. Everything went black and I felt a flipping lurch in my stomach, like when you go over a hill in a car and it takes a few seconds for your insides to catch up with you. A strange sense of being suspended between two places at once. My head pounded and I felt hot and cold at the same time.
When the lights came back on, I was lying on my back, gazing up at the Pylon through the fence. I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t even hurt, apart from a thudding in my backside. Sitting up, a smile stretching my face, I turned to look at the crew. They weren’t watching any more. They were sitting back on the logs.
“Is he just going to lie there all night?” one of the girls said.
“Pathetic,” said another sneering at me. “He couldn’t even make it over the fence.”
I sat up and stared at them. What did they mean? I’d made it all the way to the top, I’d fallen almost forty feet with nothing but a few bruises to show for it. Why weren’t they celebrating me as some sort of miracle boy? An image flickered across my mind. Me slipping on the fence and just letting go. Me falling to the ground with a thud, and just lying there, as they all laughed and booed. I hadn’t made it to the top after all. So why did I remember it so clearly?
I rubbed at the back of my head, trying to work out what the hell was going on. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I twisted around to see The Girl. She pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and flicked it into the air. It fizzed as it hit the damp grass.
“Tyler?” she asked. “Scott Tyler?”
I nodded, dumbly.
“You’re under arrest.”
Asmall hand pulled me to my feet, then punched me in the arm.
“What exactly do you think you were doing?” she said.
“Whaa?” I was never good around pretty girls. Especially bad when it appeared I’d done something to really piss them off.
“Shifting in public. Just to show off to your mates! Are you nuts?” She shoved my shoulder.
“Oi! That hurt.”
“It’s nothing compared to what the Regulators will do to you when they get here.” She shook her head and tutted.
“Huh?’
“So you can come in nice and quiet with me, or wait and get bagged and tagged, up to you.”
“I really don’t know what you’re on about. Sorry,” I added, not entirely sure what I was apologising for.
She took a step back and looked me up and down, her pale forehead wrinkling. “You’re a Shifter, right?”
“Er, no. Not that I know what a Shifter is.”
She tilted her head and stared at me, sizing me up.
“Scott?” Hugo walked over. When he saw The Girl his eyes lit up and his eyebrows disappeared under his shaggy fringe. “Well, hello, there. Enchanted, I’m sure.” He stretched out his hand. The Girl ignored it. I had to hide my grin as Hugo glanced at his empty hand and then slipped it back in his pocket. “So. What is a lovely lady like yourself doing in a nasty place like this?”
I’d never seen Hugo around a girl before, and I was glad I hadn’t. He was an embarrassment.
“I’m here to steal Scott away for the evening.”
To my shock, The Girl slipped her arm under mine and leaned her head against my shoulder. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. All I knew was that there were little bolts of electricity shooting up my arm and across my chest.
“I… I…” was all I managed to say.
“Well, lucky old Scott,” Hugo said, waggling his eyebrows. It looked as if he was having a stroke.
“I guess. Must go. Great meeting you.” She grabbed my jacket and yanked me away. I goggled helplessly at Hugo. He made an obscene gesture and waved me on. Some friend he was turning out to be tonight. Didn’t he realise that this girl was clearly insane?
Stumbling, I was dragged down an alleyway. It stank of tramp piss. I saw a rat skitter past.
“Nice,” I said,
The Girl pushed me against the wall.
“Stop doing that!” I said, rubbing at my throbbing shoulder.
“You seriously don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
She gave me that up and down look again, as if she was disappointed by what was standing in front of her. “You’re a Shifter.”
“I’ve said already, I have no idea what you’re on about. And if you’ve done shouting at me, I’d like to leave now.”
I half turned, but she grabbed my arm, a little more gently this time.
“I’ve heard of rogues, but never people who just didn’t know,” she said, more to herself than to me.
Her eyes met mine: the green of the sea in winter. Any pretence I might have made at leaving evaporated.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice a cracked whisper.
“Aubrey,” she said. “Aubrey Jones.” She stretched out her hand.
I rubbed my damp palm on my jean leg and shook her hand. “Scott. Scott Tyler.”
“Yeah, I know. Your friends were chanting your name, right till you fell on your arse.”
“About that… did you see me climb to the top of the pylon? Cause I’m pretty sure I fell from the top.”
“Nope. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t.”
“I think maybe I hit my head.”
“Listen, Scott Tyler. There’s so much you need to know. But we can’t talk here.” She glanced back up the alley. The crew had gathered at the opening, watching us. “Do you know anywhere safe?”
“What, we’re not safe here?” I asked.
“The Regulators will have registered the Shift and I give it…” She let go of my hand to check her watch. The absence of it made me realise how warm her hand had been. “Oh, about thirty minutes before they pinpoint the exact location. Less if someone who actually knows what they’re doing is on duty.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek seemingly trying to weigh up her options.
“Come on. I know a place,” she said.
Hugo’s mum is from Peru. Or Paraguay. Some South American country. Anyway, she once said: “If you see a ship on the top of a mountain, a woman’s fanny got it there.” Not only was I horrified I’d just heard Hugo’s rather attractive mother say “fanny” I also didn’t have any idea what she’d been on about. But I do now. It means that men will do anything for a beautiful woman. Or rather for the chance to get near one. So if you’re wondering why I followed Aubrey Jones farther down that dark, stinking alleyway, that’s my excuse. I couldn’t put a ship on top of a mountain, but I could trudge after her like an idiot. It wasn’t as if I had a choice. Not really.
“The place” Aubrey knew turned out to be Copenhagen’s Casino. Only it didn’t look like any casino I’d ever seen. In fairness, I’d only ever seen one casino, in Bognor Regis, and that had been a temple to tat. But this place was more like a posh gentleman’s club than a flashy gaming joint.
“Are we going in there?” I asked, pointing at the polished brass plaque on the white-bricked wall, which said the place had been Est. 1828.
Aubrey rolled her eyes at me, then knocked on the black door. Knock, knock, knockknocknock, knock. And waited. I heard an electronic whirring from overhead and saw a security camera jerking to focus on us. An electronic voice crackled from a speaker embedded in the wall. “Password?”