Before the Storm (8 page)

‘You heard what BC said. They are from the British Imperial SYS-IK Cadets.'

‘Talks like a foreigner,' observed Barry.

‘That's to fool spies,' improvised Emily. ‘Look, we have to save BC! Understand? He needs help now!'

‘But what can we do?' asked Barry.

‘Fetch, carry, and follow orders.
You
can go out and find a cooking pot. A large cooking pot! Go! Move! Daniel, not you.'

‘What should I do then?' asked Daniel.

‘Start a fire. I know you can do that.'

Over the course of the next hour Daniel got a fire going in a grate in a corner of the room, using broken pieces of packing cases. Barry returned with a cooking pot that he appeared to have stolen from somewhere nearby. While the improvised surgical instruments were being cleaned, and the waxed thread was soaking in an iodine solution, Fox made an operating table out of packing cases. The room echoed oddly, allowing distant conversations to be overheard, Emily now realised. She listened to Daniel and Barry whispering, and she did not like what she heard.

‘Dan Man, did we say we'd help?' asked Barry.

‘Ah, can't recall agreeing to.'

‘Then what are we doin'?'

‘Following orders. Emily's orders.'

‘Why?'

‘Because when Emily says jump, you just say “How high?”, whether you feel like jumping or not.'

‘Those coves ain't British.'

‘Emily thinks they are.'

‘She's daft.'

‘Perhaps she knows something that we don't.'

‘Ya reckon?'

‘Yes, I suppose.'

‘Secret British soldiers. Er, suppose we'd better give a hand then, but I still don't like it.'

At last, kneeling beside the packing case platform, Fox began to cut through the bandages, all the while listing things that he needed.

‘Medicinal alcohol, jars, pot of boiling water, bandages, tincture of iodine, potash of permanganate, bicarbonate of soda, darning needles, wax thread, twelve candles, three mirrors,' he said slowly and clearly. ‘Emily, Daniel, Barry, lay out, have ready.'

Fox had the last of the improvised bandaging cut away and had cleaned BC's abdomen by the time Emily returned. Revealed was inflamed flesh and charred skin, along with tatters of cloth and congealed blood. Emily reeled. Barry caught her and guided her to beside Daniel, who was sitting on the floor with his hands over his eyes. The ashen-faced Barry knelt beside Fox, and began passing things as they were needed. Only BC's stomach was visible.

‘Must operate,' said Fox. ‘Emily, on target. In wound, char, cloth, causing infection. Must remove.'

‘Why did you not do that earlier?' asked Emily.

‘Diagnosis wrong,' said BC. ‘Thought, benzothoractine alone, enough. Operation, last resort. Thought, needing, only last, to NineFive.'

‘Water, boiled, needing,' said Fox.

‘I shall fetch it,' whispered Emily, who then got up, dashed out to the window and vomited her breakfast into the guttering space between the roofs. After five very deep breaths she had a grip on herself again, and slowly tottered back to collect the pot of boiling water.

To Emily's considerable surprise, BC made no sound at all as the charred cloth and dried blood were soaked and eased away with damp swabs, then the dead skin was cut from his wound. Emily kept thinking that a splinter in her finger from the firewood was her worst injury for as long as she could remember. A messy pile of debris slowly built up in a tin pan beside Fox. Barry began to feed it into the fire. The scent of burning cloth and flesh hung heavily on the air, and the steam from the hot water condensed on the peeling wallpaper. Finally Fox took out a kit no bigger than Emily's thumb and began mixing tiny amounts of crystals into some type of lotion.

‘What's the coloured goo, guv?' asked Barry, holding a jar as Fox spread a blue paste on the edge of the wound with a salt spoon.

‘Thorenzaline-dermo-bethanalide, skin, stretching, for purpose of, wounds, sewing,' replied Fox.

At this point Daniel fainted. Barry dragged his friend over to the window, and looked relieved to have something to do that removed him from what was happening on the improvised table. Emily knelt beside Fox as he worked.

It was only when Fox was preparing to bandage BC again that Emily realised what was odd about his body. It looked like the paintings of the Greek and Roman gods, because the muscles stood out hard and firm beneath the skin, yet that skin was smooth and hairless. This brought home to Emily how very young BC really was, yet there were scars here and there, and on the lower rib cage was the mark of an old burn the size of Emily's palm. A battle-hardened child, thought Emily. What sort of army has battle-hardened children? At last the bandaging was done, and Fox sat back on his heels. BC lay limp.

‘Danny boy, all over,' said Barry, who was kneeling beside Daniel. ‘You can open yer eyes now.'

It was only noon by the time the operation had been completed. As BC lay resting, Fox fed the remaining evidence of the operation into the fire, and Barry left to steal lunch for them. By the time some clock tower was ringing out two o'clock, BC decreed that it was time to go to wherever they were taking him.

‘Your, ah, home?' he asked Emily. ‘Can stay? Recover?'

‘We would have to explain you to my parents,' said Emily, admitting to what was quite a serious problem.

‘That could be awkward,' agreed Daniel.

‘Oi, my old man wouldn't notice if his bum had been stolen,' announced Barry. ‘BC, mate of mine, ya can stay in the parcels room at the station. That way one of us could always be to hand, in case ya has a turn.'

‘Turn?' asked BC.

‘That means to become ill very suddenly,' said Emily.

‘To train, as is, BC, to walk, difficult,' Fox pointed out. ‘Must carry.'

‘So what's the problem?' asked Barry.

‘To carry, need reason.'

‘No problem there, Foxy.'

Soon BC had his trouser leg rolled up and a bandage around his ankle. This declared to everyone that he could not walk because of some minor accident, and so had to be carried.

‘Now then, Fox, can you carry BC to the station?' asked Emily.

‘Undignified,' protested Fox. ‘Battle Commander, is.'

‘Fox, listen to me, this is a good plan,' insisted Emily. ‘Can you carry BC to the railway station?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well then, do so!'

‘Oh lor, this is stranger than some of old Aitkinson's French postcards,' said Barry unhappily.

Into Barry's bag went the small collection of strange objects from beside BC's improvised bed.

‘Of that, take care,' said Fox, indicating the plasma lance rifle. ‘Dangerous weapon.'

‘Very dangerous weapon,' added BC.

‘Look, er, I don't think I'm, like, qualified to carry this sorta stuff,' Barry said.

‘You
will
carry it as your duty to the British Empire, and that's the end of it!' ordered Emily. ‘Fox, pick up BC. Danny, you will open doors and buy tickets. If anyone tries to stop us, I shall deal with them.'

With that Fox swept BC up, Daniel opened the door, and then they were on their way.

‘How far could you carry BC if we have to walk further than the station?' asked Emily as they descended the stairs.

‘As needed, so far,' replied Fox.

They were barely out of the door when the gang that had robbed Daniel appeared from an alleyway nearby. The youths began to spread out.

‘Wot's 'ere, then?' said one wearing an oversize cap. ‘It's dirty little boy an' all.'

‘Got 'is own push,' said a rather thick-set youth with a cigarette at one corner of his mouth.

‘Then that's another push in our parish,' said the youth in the cap, who appeared to be their leader. ‘Gotta teach 'em wot 'appens to invaders.'

Three of the five had knives out by now, and one had a cane. Emily drew breath for a scream, then caught herself. Within Barry's bag was a weapon that could kill them all in moments … but that seemed like going too far. She could threaten them with it, but to them it would look like a toy, so they would not take it seriously until it was too late. On the other hand, she also had Fox.

‘Fox, threat, remove!' barked Emily, hardly realising that the words were leaving her lips.

In a single, fluid movement, Fox turned and draped BC over Daniel, then kept turning and swept his foot up to strike the knife hand of the nearest youth. The knife went spinning out of sight. Meantime Daniel collapsed under BC's weight, striking his head against a brick wall. Emily turned back to Fox in time to see him cross his arms to ensnare the descending blow from the cane while striking out with a kick that was more like a punch to catch another youth in the face. Having secured the cane, he drove the butt up into the jaw of its owner. Incredibly, BC had somehow summoned the energy to fight too. A delicate flick of his foot sent a push boy's knife spinning away, then a strange, flat kick to the stomach doubled him over with a thud like a sledgehammer driving fence posts. With a curiously graceful hop-step, he darted forward to take the youth by the hair before driving a knee into the side of his face. The youth collapsed.

A push boy tried to pin Fox from behind. Fox dropped his weight and ran backwards, slamming the youth against a wall. Fox now twisted free, pinned his attacker's arm and snapped one of his fingers, so that he shrieked with pain. Emily saw the two other gang members huddling together, wide-eyed with fear. One of them was taking out a little pistol.

‘Fox, gun!' warned Emily, and Fox somehow flipped the youth he was holding through the air, to bring him crashing down on his friend with the gun. Fox closed with him, and his elbow crashed into the youth's jaw with a loud snap.

By now the fifth member of the push was out of the lane and gone. Emily glanced around. BC was leaning against a wall and panting heavily. Daniel shook his head and blinked his eyes. Barry was backed against a wall, clutching his bag, his mouth hanging open. Fox was uncurling from a crouch, still holding the cane and wary of whether or not there was still a threat.

‘Emily, gun, collect,' panted BC.

Emily picked up the little pistol – and the fifth member of the gang reappeared, with three policemen.

‘That's 'im, that's the cove wot's murderin' me mates!' cried the youth.

Emily thought very fast. Explaining all of this to the police would involve her parents finding out about their adventure. Worse, Fox would probably have to make statements to magistrates, have to produce papers that he did not have, explain where he came from … and worst of all, have to prove it. As for the problems that accounting for BC would involve, it did not bear thinking about. Emily made her decision, then thought, Am I being a bad girl or a great leader?

‘Fox, attack!' she barked.

The cane whirled into Emily's field of vision to strike the leading policeman on the forehead. Even as Fox charged the man beside him, BC flung something at the third policeman, who dropped his baton and clutched at Mr Lang's letter opener, which had embedded itself in his shoulder. Fox swept his foot into the back of a knee, collapsing the policeman so that he struck the back of his head against a wall. By now the remaining policeman had pulled the letter opener from his shoulder, and attempted to threaten BC with it. BC brought his hands down on the policeman's wrist with his fingers splayed wide, spun his entire body around so that the man's arm was twisted up behind his back, then elbowed him on the side of the head. He collapsed.

The fifth member of the push had watched all of this with his eyes bulging, and once again he turned to run. He found his escape blocked by Emily. She was holding the push captain's pistol in both hands.

‘You just put your hands up, you horrid little boy,' declared Emily in the most menacing voice that she could manage.

With no visible emotion whatsoever, Fox seized him by the collar and slashed downwards with his strange little knife. The youth's clothing peeled away neatly, leaving him standing in just his boots and socks. Fox pointed down into the alley from where the push had emerged.

‘Hide!' he ordered.

The youth ran and hid. Emily tried to work out whether she was feeling more traumatised from holding a gun for the very first time, or from having seen her very first naked boy. Fox took Mr Lang's letter opener from the unconscious policeman's hand, wiped the blood from the blade, and handed it back to BC. BC was on his feet, but leaning against a wall and looking unsteady. He turned his disturbingly sharp eyes on Emily.

‘Safety catch, release, next time,' BC commented, waving the letter opener at Emily's gun. ‘On trigger, place finger, also. Not trigger guard. Returning dagger, yours. Nice balance.'

Before another quarter minute was past, the five of them were out of the lane, again with Fox carrying BC. They had reached Flinders Street Station and were sitting on a bench by the time police whistles began sounding in the distance.