The Supernaturalist Read Free Page A

mingled with the smells of machine oil and blood.
    Cosmo put one foot on a window sill, taking the strain off his arms.
    ‘Ziplock! Francis, are you OK?’
    ‘Yeah, still here.’ The boy sounded disappointed.
    Throughout the bus, no-sponsors were groaning and yelling for help. Some were injured, a few were worse. The marshals were generally out for the count. Either that or staring at whichever limb was pointing the wrong way. Redwood gingerly touched a swelling nose.
    ‘I think it’s broken,’ he moaned. ‘Agnes is gonna love this.’
    ‘Oh well,’ said Ziplock, dangling above Redwood’s frame. ‘Every cloud has a silver lining.’
    Redwood froze, crouching on all fours like a pit bull. A fat drop of blood slipped from one nostril, falling through an empty window frame.
    ‘What did you say?’ The marshal spoke slowly, making sure every word came out right.
    Cosmo swung his foot across, catching his cuff partner in the ribs.
    ‘Shut up, Ziplock. What happens to you, happens to me!’
    ‘OΚ! OK! I didn’t say anything, Marshal. Nothing at all.’
    But it was too late. An invisible line had been crossed. In the midst of all the chaos, Redwood retreated into himself. When he came back out, he was an altogether more dangerous individual.
    ‘The way I see it…’ he said, standing slowly to face the dangling boys. He ran a pocket comb through hisprecious red locks. ‘… is that your cuff ring snapped, and you tried to escape.’
    In spite of his quick mouth, Ziplock was a bit slow to catch on. ‘What are you talking about, Mr Redwood? There’s nothing wrong with our cuff ring. Look!’ He tugged the cuff to demonstrate.
    ‘I ordered you to stop, but you wouldn’t listen.’ Redwood sighed dramatically, his nose whistling slightly. ‘I had no choice but to shrink-wrap you.’
    Shrink-wrap
was security-speak for the cellophane virus slugs that the marshals loaded their gas-powered rods with. Once the slug impacted on a solid object, the virus was released and coated the target with a restrictive coat of cellophane. The cellophane was porous enough to allow shallow breathing, but had been known to squeeze so tightly that it cracked ribs. Cosmo had been shrink-wrapped once before. He had spent a week in a body-cast as a result.
    Cosmo elbowed Ziplock aside.
    ‘Marshal Redwood, sir. Francis didn’t mean anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll teach him, sir. Let me take care of it. You get that nose fixed up.’
    Redwood patted Cosmo’s cheek. ‘It’s a pity, Hill, because I always liked you. You don’t stand up for yourself. But unfortunately, all wars have collateral damage.’
    The marshal reached over, inserting his swipe card into the cuff ring. The boys dropped two metres, crumpling on to the carpet of glass.
    Redwood drew his rod, checking the chamber.
    ‘I’m a reasonable man,’ he said. ‘You’ve got twenty seconds.’
    Cosmo shook the glass from his clothes, dragging Ziplock to his feet. This was it. His chance had come. Live or die.
    ‘Why don’t you give us thirty seconds?’
    Redwood laughed. ‘Now why would I do that?’
    Cosmo grabbed the marshal’s nose, twisting almost ninety degrees.
    ‘That’s why.’
    Redwood’s eyes filled with tears and he collapsed, writhing in the broken glass.
    ‘Let’s go,’ said Cosmo, grabbing Ziplock by the elbow. ‘We have thirty seconds.’
    Ziplock stood his ground. ‘I want to spend my half a minute watching Redwood squirm.’
    Cosmo ran towards the rear window, dragging the Irish boy behind him.
    ‘Use your imagination. I prefer to live.’
    They climbed through the broken window, into the restaurant. Diners were hugging the walls, in case the truck decided to lurch another metre. In a few more seconds the city police would arrive and all avenues of escape would be shut off. The searchlights from TV birds were already poking through the decimated front wall.
    Ziplock grabbed a couple of duck pancakes froma stunned diner’s plate. The