Slash was still in a strong bargaining position. He remained the king, and one royal command could result in Jeffers and Claire and all of the other prisoners really being eaten. Slash was quite blunt — if that was the only way to save their own skins, then that's what he would order.
So the plan was this: the prisoners would be paraded on stage at the climax of that evening's performance of The Jungle King. They would then be taken away to be killed by the Royal Butchers and prepared for the barbecues outside. (Claire, rather stupidly, asked why they weren't killed on stage. One of the Butchers replied, 'Because we're cannibals, not barbarians!') While the crowds partied around the bonfires, awaiting the arrival of the 'meat', the prisoners, together with Slash and the members of the theatre group, would sneak into the sewers beneath the building and escape. They would make their way to Titanic where they would be offered safe passage to a port of their choice.
Jeffers had agreed to this — but had insisted that the detail of it was kept secret from the other passengers and crew. 'They're too fragile,' he told Claire, if they blab it out, if they act differently, they could jeopardise the whole escape. I'll only tell them what I have to — that we have a way out but that it absolutely depends on them following orders.'
Claire agreed, though she didn't envy Jeffers having to tell them.
Naturally, when he did, they demanded to know.
Rodriguez was the most vocal. 'You've sold us down the river! You're saving your own skin! That's why you want us to be quiet, that's why you want us to—'
One of the crewmen stuck a finger in Rodriguez's face and snapped: 'Shut up, or I'll eat you myself and save them the trouble!'
Rodriguez went quiet.
'I think we should trust him.'
It came from what Claire thought was the most unlikely source of all. Cleaver. Throughout, he had remained calm and collected but withdrawn, so this sudden support for Jeffers' plan, even though he too was largely ignorant of it, had a settling effect on those doubting members of the party.
Ty nudged Claire's arm. 'What's he up to?' he whispered.
Claire shook her head. She had given up trying to fathom what the minister was about.
When the door was finally unlocked and Wolf Man appeared, all Jeffers said was: 'Keep calm, follow orders, everything will be fine.'
And so they were escorted out in single file, First Officer Jeffers following Wolf Man, Claire behind, and the other passengers and crew tailing back. As they rose through the levels towards the stage the music grew in clarity and volume, with the building vibrating both to it and to the frenzied stamping and clapping of the audience. Those nagging doubts were beginning to multiply in Claire's mind. What if the bargaining really had just been a way of keeping them quiet? What if Jeffers' exposure of King Slash and the Butchers as a fraud had merely prompted them to pull off another scam — making them think they were going to be released while all the time the plan was to shut them up until they could be executed? Were they, even now, walking placidly to their deaths? Killing them would allow Slash to continue his reign. Killing them was expected. Even if they hadn't actually murdered or eaten anyone before, if they started now nobody was going to know the difference, or punish them. There was no law but Slash's law. They could do exactly what they wanted.
The passengers and crew reached the backstage area. They were corralled into a tight group and prodded forward as the roars from the audience, prompted by a Wolf Man on stage, grew in intensity. Claire wanted to bolt, to hide, but there was nothing she could do but emerge blinking into a blaze of stage lights and the wall of sound.
'Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! I present to you . . . dinner!'
Jimmy could hardly believe his eyes. Claire was there on the stage before him, together with Jeffers and Dr Hill and . . .
Oh my God . . . the minister!
How was that possible?
Up until then Jimmy had actually been quite relaxed. They had sat unrecognised and undisturbed in a theatre, enjoying a musical. Even Ronni had been chilled enough to actually tap her feet and sing along. For a few minutes they'd been able to drift into a land of make-believe, to imagine that everything that had happened to them in the past few months might actually be some kind of bizarre fantasy, that what they were doing now, what they were seeing on stage, wasn't bizarre or surreal, it was the real world and they were just a boy and girl enjoying a night out at the theatre.
But then Claire had stepped into the spotlight, pushed and harried with the others, while King Slash strode around, revving the crowd up further as he sniffed and pawed at them, roaring his pleasure, stamping his feet. He lifted an arm here, a leg there, pretending to bite at it. The Royal Butchers moved along the back of the line, swords drawn, teasing and delighting the audience as they feigned stabbing their victims, their supper.
Slash came to the minister. He knocked the wide-brimmed hat from his head, bent and picked it up, then skimmed it through the air into the crowd. It floated back five or six rows until someone jumped from their seat and grabbed it, to universal applause.
The minister hardly reacted at all — at first. Slash moved closer. He began to sniff up and down him. He pawed at the minister's dog-collar. The minister moved for the first time. Jimmy thought he was just moving his arms to protect himself, but then there was a flash of metal, a blur of movement and suddenly Slash wasn't sniffing at him any more.
The Jungle King staggered backwards. He pawed uselessly at the air. Then he collapsed down on to the stage.
The crowd jumped to their feet, cheering, convinced it was all part of the act, even as blood began to seep out of his costume and across the floor. It was only when the minister stepped forward, and they saw a long, thin dagger in his hand; when they saw him wave it in the air and shout something out, once, twice, again and again, that they finally began to fall silent, that the music ceased and the relentless druming of feet faded and they at last began to understand what had happened as they heard the words of the wild-eyed man holding the bloody knife aloft and screaming:
'Long live the President! Long live the President!'
First Officer Jeffers was the first to react. He stepped forward and grabbed Cleaver's arm; he snapped it back, causing him to release the dagger. As it clattered on to the stage floor Jeffers twisted Cleaver's arm further up, and at the same time kicked at the back of his knees, which gave way, forcing him to the ground. The Royal Butchers, the Wolf Man and the rest of the cast all crowded around Slash; the audience surged forward, screaming and howling. They began to clamber on to the stage. As they advanced Jeffers yelled back at Claire: 'Get out of here! Move it!' Claire was frozen to the spot. Until Dr Hill clamped a hand on her arm and began to pull her backwards she hadn't realised that the others had already begun to move off the stage. Jeffers himself now bounded away as the mob descended on Cleaver. As fists and boots began to rain down on him there was a massive clump of a noise, and the entire building shook. Masonry showered down on the stage and across the seats in the auditorium. Another dull explosion came, even louder, with shock waves strong enough to throw half of them to the floor.