‘They look like insects from up here.’ Boney-M was standing on top of the wall, keeping very still so that he looked like some black stone gargoyle. Paul risked leaning out to look down, careful not to knock anything off like he’d done earlier. Watched a group of kids way below going towards the gates, Kwanele leading them in one of his stupid outfits.

‘I could swoop down and snatch one up in my beak,’ said Boney.

‘No, you couldn’t,’ Paul scoffed. ‘You can’t fly, your wings are broken, you’ve got no feathers. You’re just …’ He paused. What was he? A fossil? An exhibit? A living corpse? A joke.

When he turned to look at Boney he wasn’t there any more.

‘You’re just a bad dream,’ said Paul.

He’d been talking to thin air. He had a sudden stab of sadness. He wanted to be down there, with his friends, talking to real people. Not up here talking to himself. But he couldn’t ever go back, could he? Not after what he’d done. He could never undo it. Never travel back in time and take a different route. He’d ruined everything.

He realized his cheeks were wet. He pictured Samira’s mutilated body, lying in the corner, starting to rot.

No going back.

Chapter 51

51

This is the journal of Lettis Slingsbury. Date unknown. Place unknown. Almost unknown. It’s a church somewhere near Heathrow Airport. Which is to the west of London.

In the morning, after we all woke up, I wanted to go with the fighters to the medical place, because that’s what this story is all about, but they wouldn’t let me. I did think it was unfair and I didn’t think that Chris Marker would be very happy about how things were when I got back, but in the end he is just a librarian, just a writer, and Justin is in charge of us and Einstein is a scientist who does amazing things and will cure the disease and Blue is a fighter, he is in charge of the search party, so I cannot argue with them, and Chris is not at the top of the table, if you take my meaning, which means that the others are more important than him. And I am even less important than Chris.