“Can’t, can’t, can’t,” John babbled, trembling wildly where he lay half across his rung. Tears ran down the older boy’s cheeks and fell into space like salty rain. He was deathly white, eyes staring, frozen. Suddenly yellow urine flooded from the leg of his short trousers in a long burst. When he saw this, David, too, wet himself, feeling the burning of his water against his legs but not caring. He felt very tiny, very weak now, and he knew that fear and shock were combining to exhaust him.
Then, as a silhouette glimpsed briefly in a flash of lightning, David saw in his mind’s eye a means of salvation. “John,” he urgently called out to the other boy. “Do you remember near the middle of the viaduct? There are two gaps close together in the walkway, maybe only a dozen or so rungs apart.” Almost imperceptibly, John nodded, never once moving his frozen eyes from David’s face. “Well,” the younger boy continued, barely managing to keep the hysteria out of his own voice, “if we can swing to—”
Suddenly David’s words were out off by a burst of insane laughter from above, followed immediately by a loud, staccato thumping on the boards as Wiley Smiley leapt crazily up and down.
“No, no, no—” John finally cried out in answer to David’s proposal. His paralysis broken, he began to sob unashamedly. Then, shaking his head violently, he said: “I can’t move—can’t move!” His voice became the merest whisper. “Oh, God—Mum—Dad! I’ll fall, I’ll fall!”
“You won’t fall, you git—coward!” David shouted. Then his jaw fell open in a gasp. John, a coward! But the other boy didn’t even seem to have heard him. Now he was trembling as wildly as before and his eyes were squeezed tight shut.
“Listen,” David said. “If you don’t come…then I’ll leave you. You wouldn’t want to be left on your own, would you?” It was an echo as of something said a million years ago.
John stopped sobbing and opened his eyes. They opened very wide, unbelieving. “Leave me?”
“Listen,” David said again. “The next gap is only about twenty rungs away, and the one after that is only another eight or nine more. Wiley Smiley can‘t get after both of us at once, can he?”
“You go,” said John, his voice taking on fresh hope and his eyes blinking rapidly. “You go and maybe he’ll follow you. Then I’ll climb up and—and chase him off…”
“You won’t be able to chase him off,” said David scornfully, “not just you on your own. You’re not big enough.”
“Then I’ll…I’ll run and fetch help.”
“What if he doesn’t follow me?” David asked. “If we both go, he’s bound to follow us.”
“David,” John said, after a moment or two. “David, I’m…frightened.”
“You’ll have to be quick across the gap,” David said, ignoring John’s last statement. “He’s got that stick—and of course he’ll be listening to us.”
“I’m frightened,” John whispered again.
David nodded. “OK, you stay where you are, if that’s what you want—but I’m going on.”
“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!” John cried out, his shriek accompanied by a peal of mad and bubbling laughter from the unseen idiot above. “Don’t go!”
“I have to, or we’re both finished,” David answered. He slid down into the hanging position and turned about-face, noting as he did so that John was making to follow him, albeit in a dangerous, panicky fashion. “Wait to see if Wiley Smiley follows me!” he called back over his shoulder.
“No. I’m coming, I’m coming!”
From far down below in the valley David heard a horrified shout, then another. They had been spotted. Wiley Smiley heard the shouting too, and his distraction was sufficient to allow John to pass by beneath him unhindered. From above, the two boys now heard the idiot’s worried mutterings and gruntings, and the hesitant sound of his feet as he slowly kept pace with them along the walkway. He could see them through the narrow cracks between the planks, but the cracks weren’t wide enough for him to use his stick.
David‘s arms and hands were terribly numb and aching by the time he reached the second gap, but seeing the gloating, twisted features of Wiley Smiley leering down at him he ducked his head and swung on to where he was once more protected by the planks above him. John had stopped short of the second gap, hauling himself up into the safer, resting position.
Above them Wiley Smiley was mewling viciously like a wild animal, howling as if in torment. He rushed crazily back and forth from gap to gap, jabbing uselessly at the empty air between the vacant rungs. The boys could see the bloodied point of the stick striking down first through one open space, then the other. David achingly waited until he saw the stick appear at the gap in front of him and then, when it retreated and he heard Wiley Smiley‘s footsteps hurrying overhead, swung swiftly across to the other side. There he turned about to face John, and with what felt like his last ounce of strength pulled himself up to rest.
Now, for the first time, David dared to look down. Below, running up the riverbank and waving frantically, were the ant-like figures of three men. They must have been out for a Saturday morning stroll when they’d spotted the two boys hanging beneath the viaduct’s walkway. One of them stopped running and put his hands up to his mouth. His shout floated up to the boys on the clear air: “Hang on, lads, hang on!”
“Help!” David and John cried out together, as loud as they could. “Help—Help!”
“We’re coming, lads,” came the answering shout. The men hurriedly began to climb the wooded slope on their side of the river and disappeared into the trees.
“They’ll be here soon,” David said, wondering if it would be soon enough. His whole body ached and he felt desperately weak and sick.
“Hear that, Wiley Smiley?” John cried hysterically, staring up at the boards above him. “They’ll be here soon—and then you’ll be taken away and locked up!” There was no answer. A slight wind had come up off the sea and was carrying a salty tang to them where they lay across their rungs.
“They’ll take you away and lock you up,” John cried again, the ghost of a sob in his voice; but once more the only answer was the slight moaning of the wind. John looked across at David, maybe twenty-five feet away, and said: “I think…I think he’s gone.” Then he gave a wild shout. “He’s gone. He’s gone!”
“I didn’t hear him go,” said David, dubiously.
John was very much more his old self now. “Oh, he’s gone, all right. He saw those men coming and cleared off. David, I’m going up!”
“You’d better wait,” David cried out as his friend slid down to hang at arm’s length from his rung. John ignored the advice; he swung forward hand over hand until he was under the far gap in the planking. With a grunt of exertion, he forced the tired muscles of his arms to pull his body up. He got his rib-cage over the rung, flung a hand up and took hold of the naked plank to one side of the gap, then—
In that same instant David sensed rather than heard the furtive movement overhead. “John!” he yelled. “He’s still there—Wiley Smiley’s still there!”
But John had already seen Wiley Smiley; the idiot had made his presence all too plain, and already his victim was screaming. The boy fell back fully into David’s view, the hand he had thrown up to grip the edge of the plank returning automatically to the rung, his arms taking the full weight of his falling body, somehow sustaining him. There was a long gash in his cheek from which blood freely flowed.
“Move forward!” David yelled, terror pulling his lips back in a snarling mask. “Forward, where he can’t get at you…”