Jelly, page 8
‘It’s not like I’ve got a choice. Trust me, if there was anywhere I could go, then I would love some time away from you. All three of you.’
‘Stop it!’ said Kate. ‘Stop it. You’re all making it worse.’ She started to cry. ‘It’s not going to help if you all get cross with each other. It’s just . . . it’s just . . . for a minute there, I thought . . .’
We all knew what she thought because, yeah, for a minute we’d been thinking it too. I could almost feel that hard tarmac beneath my feet, imagine that stable, unmoving earth.
‘I feel sorry for the rest of the human race, actually,’ said James, ‘because they don’t get to experience our gorgeous sea views.’
I smiled up at him, and Kate gave a more cheerful sniffle.
‘Wait, what?’ Lana sat up. ‘How stupid are you dickheads? Do none of you even think about it all? Do none of you think about our world? What the bloody bollocking crap do you think about?’
‘I spend a lot of time trying not to think about the world, Lana,’ I said, because it was true. And I think it was true about most of the people on board the Jellyfish. If we thought about it too much, our lives would be rubbish, wouldn’t they? Even more rubbish than they already were, I mean. ‘Go on, then. What should we all have been thinking about?’
‘Well, you don’t think we’re the only ones stuck on one of these things, do you? That’s a start. There’s no way we’re the only humans in the world who are being kept like flippin’ animals in a zoo. There’s no way this jellyfish is a complete one-off freak of nature. There’ve gotta be others, that didn’t just destroy ships and then go back beneath the water. So, yeah, other people have got the sea-view hellhole, James.’
We sat there for a minute, completely shocked. Because, the thing is, I had thought we were the only ones. And even though he tried to hide it by looking fake-casual and giving a yawn, I don’t think James had ever thought anything else either.
The tentacles nearest to us sank suddenly below the surface, leaving behind a smooth, glassy area of water. Only the occasional drifting bubble or dark shimmer gave a hint of the threat below.
‘And those flippin’ crab kriks out there are running out of food now, aren’t they?’ added Lana. ‘We’re not seeing as many humans as we used to, so they’ve caught all the easy ones. The only humans we’ve seen in the last few months have been krik killers, right?’
‘Right.’
‘So what are the kriks going to start doing? Are they going to start eating each other? What do you think they’re living off?’
I hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t really want to start thinking about it now, even.
‘Those animals up on the hills?’ said James. ‘There are loads of those still left.’
‘Yes, there are,’ said Lana, ‘but those animals are really fast and really hairy, and we’ve not seen kriks eating them before, have we? Maybe that’s because they can’t catch them, or maybe it’s because they don’t eat them.
‘And the thing is, crabs don’t live very long, do they?’
‘Don’t know,’ I said.
‘I don’t think they do. So are the kriks about to start dying?’
‘That’d be nice. But I don’t think so,’ said James. ‘There’re still a lot of them and they probably breed or something. Plus they’re not actually crabs, are they?’
‘Yes, well, our options are that either they’re about to start running out of food and dying, or we’re being kept here to feed them when food supplies run low, so we’re about to start dying.
‘I think things are about to change. They’re about to change soon. I don’t know how they’re going to change, but I want to be one of the ones to survive.’
We all stared out at the shore. The lumpy bodies of the dead kriks looked smaller than they had when they were alive – maybe because they were all hunched over now, or because of blood loss or something. They didn’t exactly look less evil or anything – but they did look sad and not at all like the scary monsters they had been. Over each of them there was already a squabbling cover of seagulls picking at the flesh beneath. They’d pull and peck, then turn their necks upwards to chew and call noisily. Every so often, for no obvious reason, all the gulls on one of the kriks would rise upwards and fly round shouting, before swooping back down again to pull at that dead flesh once more.
Up at the top of the cliffs, six black figures emerged from behind the houses. At a steady jog they ran up the road away from us. We watched them until they were out of sight.
14
‘What shall we do?’ I asked.
We were sitting outside the Big House, and a few people were still inside pretending to sleep so that they didn’t have to face the day. I don’t really know why I asked, because there was nothing anybody could have suggested that I’d have wanted to do. I definitely didn’t ask out of politeness either, because being polite to others had not been a priority that morning. There had been serious amounts of rudeness and grumpiness from pretty much everybody.
‘Bog off,’ said Lana.
It was the answer I’d expected. It was the one I’d have given her.
All three of the boats were still visible. Two were bobbing near us, sometimes coming closer and fooling us into hope before floating away again. The other one was back on the shore again, tapping against the walls of the submerged houses in an annoyingly audible fashion. Whenever there was a moment of silence, a drop in the wind, you could hear the tinny tapping. It was irregular too, which made it more difficult to ignore. Ting . . . ting . . . ting . . .
‘Morning!’ James sat up. ‘So, I’ve made a decision about today.’
Lana ignored him, and continued idly stabbing at the mesoglea beneath her feet. She was wrapped in a coat of plastic bags against the light drizzle and spray from the waves, looking like the very image of misery – which I think was the fashion statement she was going for.
‘Well, come on, guys!’ said James. ‘Ask me about my decision.’
‘Right, James. But I’ve got a feeling that I’ll regret asking, won’t I?’ I said.
‘How could you regret asking, Martha? This is something I’ve been working on for a very long time.’ He looked hurt at my doubt, which confirmed my opinion that it wasn’t going to be anything good.
Lana looked up, interested for a second. Surely there was no way he could have been working on something for a very long time? We’d have noticed.
I gave a loud sigh to show that I was already bored. ‘Go on then, James. What is the decision you’ve made about today?’
‘I’m glad you asked, Martha,’ he said. ‘I’ve made a big decision about . . . my bogey. Yes, that’s right. My monster bogey.’
Lana slumped back into the Jellyfish again. James gave a shrug, then carried on with his story anyway. ‘Yes. I’ve been working on it for weeks now. Quite a few times I’ve needed to blow my nose, but I haven’t. I’ve carefully sniffed the fluid bogeys back up into my nose and let them dry up there. A few times I’ve even had to lie back to prevent all that loose bogey sliding back out again. I first realized that it was going to be a real beauty a couple of days ago, when I scratched the side of my nose and the bogey hurt me through the side of my nostril. It was hard and pure then.
‘Now, at that point, a weaker man than myself might have caved and picked his nose, or an even weaker one might have blown it. But not me, oh no. No, since then, I’ve been saving it and saving it. I can’t even breathe properly any more, my nostril’s so full. What a treat this is going to be – and a monster like this shouldn’t just be blown into the sea! When I eventually pick my nose – oh the relief! Imagine the joy!’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘So are you going to pick it by yourself, or are you going to do a grand show?’
‘I’d be surprised if others didn’t want to watch, actually. I have been giving updates to a few interested people.’
‘Let me know how you get on, then,’ I said. ‘I think I might just stay and watch the boats.’
James sidled off. I think he went reluctantly, but then he’d given himself a big build-up, so he sort of had to go. Lana wrapped the plastic bags further around herself, leaving a small ventilation hole at the top, and lay down.
‘Wahey!’ Shouts began behind me, and the chant, ‘James, James, James, James!’ It takes so little to get our interest here, especially when we’re busy avoiding thinking about something important. But it was starting to become more difficult to block out thoughts of escape, and even as everybody else was cheering, I couldn’t take my eyes off the slowly moving boats.
The closest boat bobbing towards us was a small, two-berth river boat. The second was a larger, but rusting, sail-less yacht. There was a mighty dent on one side, and a crack leading up to the deck. It wasn’t definite that either of the boats would ever reach us. The Jellyfish didn’t seem to mind letting small objects past, like the plastic bottles and bags which arrived every day, but I wondered whether it would let through large ones, like boats.
‘Well, how are things over here, Martha?’ James came back up behind me. ‘You look just the same. Same life, same fashion sense, same friends. That’s so sweet, you know? But we can’t all live like that. Some of us have to try new things, gain new experiences.’
The pile of plastic bags that was Lana gave a disgusted snort.
‘Did you pick your nose, then?’ I asked, if only to make him shut up.
‘Yes, Martha. And it was every bit as magical as you’d imagine. A glorious moment in my existence.’
‘Probably was, actually.’
‘Probably.’
We looked at the boats for another couple of seconds.
‘I’m going to go insane,’ said James. ‘Absolutely insane.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. It was an option which a number of people on board had already taken. And I had wondered, a few times, if it was actually me who was insane, and this whole Jellyfish thing wasn’t real. In dark moments, like this one, it was always quite difficult to tell.
‘I think . . .’ I said, and it was an exciting sentence, because I didn’t know how I was going to end it until I did: I really was just thinking it as I spoke. ‘I think . . . I’m going to try and escape. Today.’
15
James looked round at me. There was a rustle of plastic bags, and Lana emerged.
‘Anybody want to help me escape?’
Lana gave a shrug.
‘It’ll pass the time, I suppose,’ said James. ‘What’s your plan?’
It wasn’t a fully developed plan at this point, but I was flattered James thought it might be. ‘I want to get that boat,’ I said. ‘The closest one. I want to make sure that it definitely comes over here, rather than going back to shore. So I think we should make a rope by tying plastic bags together, and then throw it on the deck with the rugby ball attached. It’ll hopefully get caught round the boat’s railings and then we should be able to drag it over here, at least a little way.’
‘No,’ said James. ‘No. You’re not using the rugby ball.’
‘It’s to get us off the Jellyfish and save our lives,’ I said.
‘In your dreams it is,’ he said. ‘No way are you using my rugby ball in something risky. See, if I wake up tomorrow morning and I’m still on this flipping thing and there’s no rugby ball, then there’d be problems.’
Lana was already pulling apart her plastic bags and tying them together.
‘Well, what do you suggest, then?’ I said. ‘We need something that’s heavy, but easy to throw.’
‘I’ll chuck one of you losers at it in a minute, if you don’t help me,’ said Lana.
We both grabbed some of the bags.
‘How about a plastic bottle?’ said James. ‘With water in it and the lid on?’
I gave a nod. We set to work.
All of the best ideas we’ve ever had have also seemed like the most obvious ones afterwards. And the plastic-bag rope was one of those. Looking back on it now, it seems weird we hadn’t thought about tying them together before, but we honestly hadn’t. You get loads, hundreds maybe, of plastic bags floating around you on the sea each day. We used them for lots of things: sleeping bags (with other bags stuffed inside as padding); fashion accessories (when twisted together and looped into necklaces or colourful belts); raincoats; clothing; for sitting on when you just couldn’t stand the feel of that gloopy mesoglea beneath you; or even just for burning. But a rope was something we’d never made before. The possibilities seemed endless.
‘Zip wire, I think it was called?’ said Kate. ‘I remember it from Before; it was in a park just for children to play in. It was so much fun! You’d get on at one end, and then sort of slide along the rope to the other end really quickly. It would pull you along.’
‘How would it pull you along, though?’ said Lana. ‘Because we’ve not had much success making anything mechanical out of shredded plastic bags and seaweed. If we could do that, we’d have built a flippin’ aeroplane and got us off this thing ages ago.’
‘It might have been called a Flying Fox?’ said Kate, with a frown. ‘No, it can’t have been. That’s a silly name. I don’t know how it would pull you along. But we could attach the rope at this end, and just climb along it. We wouldn’t have to slide along.’
‘What would we attach the other end to?’ said Lana. ‘Where would we be sliding to?’
‘The boat,’ said Kate. ‘When we get it here, we could tie the end of the rope to it and then push the boat away. Then when it got past the tentacles we could climb along the rope and swim to shore.’
‘That sounds crap,’ said Lana. But she said it more out of habit than conviction. We’d tried much stupider ideas before.
‘I need another load of bags,’ said James, calling over to the Big House. ‘Oi! John, have we got any more bags coming?’ John gave him a wave. Half the people on board were working on our project by now, and the Big House was full of people ripping apart the elaborate plastic-bag wallpaper inside. ‘What do you think that wave means?’
‘It means he’s sorting it out, James,’ I said. ‘He’s not the sort of man to wave just to say hello, is he? Look, we’ve all pretty much finished. Shall we join our ropes together to make one long one?’
We laid our ropes out on the surface.
‘They’re a bit thin, aren’t they?’ said Lana.
‘They’re great!’ said Kate. ‘I think we’ve done really well.’
‘Right,’ said Lana. ‘But would you like to climb this one on your zip wire, out over the tentacles?’
Kate looked at the pieces of knotted plastic. She scrunched up her nose, but didn’t immediately say no.
‘How about we plait them together?’ I asked.
‘But that’ll mean we’ve got far less rope,’ said James.
‘Yes, but what we’ve got will be stronger.’
‘But what we’ve got here would probably be long enough to reach the boat already,’ said James. The boat had moved towards the shore a little, but with a good rugby kick we’d still be able to reach it. And combined together, the four plastic-bag ropes we had between us were easily long enough to reach beyond the tentacles.
‘I think . . .’ I said, looking over at the activity surrounding the Big House, ‘I think we should make it strong and not worry about reaching the boat for now.’
‘What are you thinking, Mystery Martha?’ said James.
Kate started plaiting three of the ropes together.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘But I know we’ve made loads of escape attempts before. I don’t even know how many. We’ve never tried something with rope though. We can tie things up now, and lasso things and maybe pull things towards us. That’s new.’
‘And us,’ said Kate.
‘Us what?’
‘Well, us coming up with the escape plan. That’s also new.’
Dr Jones dropped a large pile of plastic bags next to us. Most were shredded, or discoloured by time spent floating in the sea. ‘There are more on the way,’ she said. ‘Not all are as good as these, though. And it might take a few minutes.’
Up at the Big House, Soldier John was now having a loud argument with Old Albert. It was fairly obvious what it was about: Albert gets territorial about his bags, and spends a lot of time rustling about at night building a nest around himself. Normally most of the people on board would have been over, picking a side in the shouting match and loudly giving our opinions. But things had changed now, and most of us were busy. Staring Crone was still silently staring – but I think we all felt that was OK right now, now that we knew she was thinking life-shifting thoughts. There was a group training, trying out moves used by the people we’d seen on shore. And everybody else was gathering together all the plastic bags we had. The whole Jellyfish was buzzing with the human energy on board and it just felt hopeful, exciting . . . and as though something was going to happen. Something different. Beneath us even the Jellyfish seemed to sense the mood, and it had gone strangely still and stiff like it was a boat. Its surface was moving on top of the waves – lightly up and down – and not absorbing the movement as it normally did.
I started knotting the rope together more quickly. It suddenly did seem urgent, after all. The drizzle had turned into light rain, and without our normal plastic bag coverings, it was definitely cold. My hands were numb, which was making it fiddly to tie the knots, but nobody was showing any sign of wanting to sit in the Big House.
‘Go and fill a bottle, would you, James?’ I said. He moved, without arguing, towards the edge of the creature.
‘I wonder what it would be like to sit inside one of those houses on the shore?’ said Kate. ‘Do you think it would be warm?’
‘I think the windows would be broken and the roofs would leak,’ said Lana. ‘Besides, if I ever get off this thing, I’m going to run so far inland that I’ll never even smell the sea. I don’t want any rivers, or lakes, or even a puddle. I’m definitely not friggin’ wasting time going into one of those houses.’
