pricked a hole in my death and my past life was shining through somehow,” Lilly said.
As she said this, I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Murphy on discovering him to be back in this pushed world. He had described this world as being like a sheet of tracing paper which had been laid over the world we had been pushed from. He said the love letters which I had sent to Sophie in my old life had shown up in this world because a hole had been made in the tracing paper and they had bled through.
Staring straight at Lilly, I said, “Murphy told me that the old world – before it got pushed – is starting to make holes in this world and it shouldn’t be. He said it was like a really bad thing to happen.”
“Murphy’s here?” Lilly said, leaping up from her seat. “He got pushed into this world, too?”
“Well, yeah,” I sighed, not knowing if I’d said the right thing or not. Probably not – knowing how often I opened my mouth and fucked things up.
“Did he get the message I left for him in the newspaper yet?” Lilly asked, wringing her slender hands together in her lap.
“What message?” I said, looking up at her. “What newspaper?”
“The piece of newspaper Sam has,” she said. “It’s on the back of that article Sam has about Kayla being murdered by her father, Doctor Hunt, in the mountains.”
I remembered Murphy showing me Kayla’s headstone in that graveyard and telling me how Hunt had murdered both her and Isidor in this world. He had believed them to be winged creatures from below ground. Murphy had suspected that Hunt had somehow remembered this from the world before it had been pushed . I now wondered if Murphy had been right in what he’d told me. Perhaps Hunt had started to remember? Perhaps cracks had started to appear in his life. Just like Lilly – Pen – had revisited Murphy by stepping through the cracks.
“Has Murphy seen the newspaper clipping?” Lilly asked again.
“I don’t know anything about any newspaper clipping, and as far as I’m aware, neither does Murphy,” I sighed, desperately trying to fit together everything I’d learnt from Murphy and was now learning from Lilly. I knew all the pieces must fit together – but how?
“Is that news clipping important?” Jack said, looking at me, then at Lilly.
“Probably,” Lilly breathed, slowly sitting down next to me again. She looked deeply shocked. Scared.
“Are you okay?” I asked, still not sure if I should have said anything about Murphy or not.
“Murphy was wrong,” she whispered, looking at me, her eyes wide and bright.
“About what?” I asked.
“The holes he was talking about, although I call them cracks, they are a good thing,” she said.
“How do you know that?” I said, feeling confused. “Who told you?”
“The same person who carried my daughters in that cardboard box back to Murphy,” she said.
Both Jack and I stared at her blankly.
Lilly looked over her shoulder in both directions, as if fearing that some enemy might be eavesdropping. Then, leaning in close to me and Jack, she whispered, “The old guy in the ticket booth told me. He said if we want to push the world back, we have to make as many cracks as possible. We have to destroy this world.”
Chapter Nine
Jack
“How would a simple ticket seller know so much?” I asked, loosening the bandana about my neck. In fact, how did the old black guy with the wizened face and fuzz of white hair know anything? I’d been back in this world two hundred years or more and what Lilly was explaining was all new to me.
Lilly shot a glance over her shoulder back towards the ticket booth where the old guy continued to punch out tickets for the never ending stream of dead travellers who waited in line. The marble floor seemed to tremble beneath my feet as the sound of arriving and departing trains rumbled deep below ground. Lilly leant in close again, like a coach giving a halftime briefing, and said, “His
As she said this, I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Murphy on discovering him to be back in this pushed world. He had described this world as being like a sheet of tracing paper which had been laid over the world we had been pushed from. He said the love letters which I had sent to Sophie in my old life had shown up in this world because a hole had been made in the tracing paper and they had bled through.
Staring straight at Lilly, I said, “Murphy told me that the old world – before it got pushed – is starting to make holes in this world and it shouldn’t be. He said it was like a really bad thing to happen.”
“Murphy’s here?” Lilly said, leaping up from her seat. “He got pushed into this world, too?”
“Well, yeah,” I sighed, not knowing if I’d said the right thing or not. Probably not – knowing how often I opened my mouth and fucked things up.
“Did he get the message I left for him in the newspaper yet?” Lilly asked, wringing her slender hands together in her lap.
“What message?” I said, looking up at her. “What newspaper?”
“The piece of newspaper Sam has,” she said. “It’s on the back of that article Sam has about Kayla being murdered by her father, Doctor Hunt, in the mountains.”
I remembered Murphy showing me Kayla’s headstone in that graveyard and telling me how Hunt had murdered both her and Isidor in this world. He had believed them to be winged creatures from below ground. Murphy had suspected that Hunt had somehow remembered this from the world before it had been pushed . I now wondered if Murphy had been right in what he’d told me. Perhaps Hunt had started to remember? Perhaps cracks had started to appear in his life. Just like Lilly – Pen – had revisited Murphy by stepping through the cracks.
“Has Murphy seen the newspaper clipping?” Lilly asked again.
“I don’t know anything about any newspaper clipping, and as far as I’m aware, neither does Murphy,” I sighed, desperately trying to fit together everything I’d learnt from Murphy and was now learning from Lilly. I knew all the pieces must fit together – but how?
“Is that news clipping important?” Jack said, looking at me, then at Lilly.
“Probably,” Lilly breathed, slowly sitting down next to me again. She looked deeply shocked. Scared.
“Are you okay?” I asked, still not sure if I should have said anything about Murphy or not.
“Murphy was wrong,” she whispered, looking at me, her eyes wide and bright.
“About what?” I asked.
“The holes he was talking about, although I call them cracks, they are a good thing,” she said.
“How do you know that?” I said, feeling confused. “Who told you?”
“The same person who carried my daughters in that cardboard box back to Murphy,” she said.
Both Jack and I stared at her blankly.
Lilly looked over her shoulder in both directions, as if fearing that some enemy might be eavesdropping. Then, leaning in close to me and Jack, she whispered, “The old guy in the ticket booth told me. He said if we want to push the world back, we have to make as many cracks as possible. We have to destroy this world.”
Chapter Nine
Jack
“How would a simple ticket seller know so much?” I asked, loosening the bandana about my neck. In fact, how did the old black guy with the wizened face and fuzz of white hair know anything? I’d been back in this world two hundred years or more and what Lilly was explaining was all new to me.
Lilly shot a glance over her shoulder back towards the ticket booth where the old guy continued to punch out tickets for the never ending stream of dead travellers who waited in line. The marble floor seemed to tremble beneath my feet as the sound of arriving and departing trains rumbled deep below ground. Lilly leant in close again, like a coach giving a halftime briefing, and said, “His
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