Читать книгу Truth or Die - Katerina Diamond, Katerina Diamond - Страница 8

Six months ago

‘Is this thing on?’ Toby said into the camera on his phone. ‘OK, watch this. It’s going to be incredible.’

The camera was placed on the ground, resting against Toby’s empty can of cider and pointing up at Exeter Cathedral. The angle meant the whole cathedral was in shot. Toby switched on the GoPro on his head as well and ran towards the front of the building. He wasn’t sure how many people would be watching the live stream at this time in the morning, but he had to assume that there was a possibility the police could turn up at any point, so he needed to hurry. The front of the medieval building had enough nooks and holes for him to place his feet and fingers in, to grip and pull on, to climb. This would be the biggest achievement for Toby; he had climbed many buildings in the town, but this was surely the jewel in the crown. It wasn’t the tallest building by a long shot, but it was so iconic, there was no way he wouldn’t score some major points with it – it might even go viral. Heavily decorated with carved and moulded stonework, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of this before.

Toby had been doing parkour for five years, since he was fourteen years old. In the last year his game had really improved though. This was barely a challenge now that he looked at it. The west screen, the front of the cathedral, was covered in half-sized statues of knights, angels, kings, apostles and other small figures nestled in the niches. At school they had learned that these small animated figures were once painted in brightly coloured medieval paint, long since eroded and washed away. Lots of knobbles and bobbles to wrap his fingers around. Even the safety net wouldn’t be much of an obstacle as it had a little give in it.

Toby started to climb. He grabbed a hold of one of the angels on the first row of niches. They were holding up the other characters. A vision of heaven that Toby was putting his feet all over. Even where there were no sculptures to use as footholds, the walls weren’t smooth but rugged, and the stone bricks were chipped or broken at the corners, often providing enough space for the front inch of his trainer or for his fingers to hold onto. His nerves weren’t too bad because he had had a couple of drinks on the way here, just enough to take the edge off without dulling his instincts.

Toby had hardly broken a sweat by the time he reached the end of the first part of the challenge and grabbed hold of the crenelated wall at the top of the figures. He slipped through the gap in the wall and turned around, making sure the GoPro on his chest was pointing forwards. He leaned over and waved at his own phone. He didn’t want to waste any more time and so he turned back around and looked up at the rose window.

The rose window itself was the easiest part to climb; it was practically a ladder once you got past the long slim windows into the actual rose. He got to the top of the structure in no time. He made sure to look down, so that he could get a shot of the ornate window directly beneath him with the camera strapped to his head. He wondered how many viewers he had now. No sirens yet.

At the top of the window he had a couple of tricky manoeuvres to do before he could get over the second ledge onto the small balcony. Once they had been executed, he grabbed the thin ledge and pulled himself up, and then hoisted himself over the wall. One last push before he could get onto the roof. He could go to the side and climb up that way, but it wasn’t as interesting for his followers and so he continued on his path straight upwards. He was feeling a little tired – probably the cider; next time one can would be enough. He didn’t know why he had been so nervous in the first place; this was a doddle.

He climbed up the final window and grabbed hold of the feet of the statue standing at the top of it. He didn’t know who it was of, probably St Peter. Neither history nor religious studies were his subjects at school, so he hadn’t paid attention on the various school trips they had made to the building over the years.

He got his hand around the spike at the centre of the top of the roof and pulled himself up. He didn’t give himself time to rest; he wanted his followers to see the view and so he spun around and looked out over the city. His phone was a tiny blip on the ground from where he was standing, but he waved nonetheless. He would splice the footage together later and put it to music. This was going to look awesome; he couldn’t wait to watch it back.

He looked behind him at the lopsided crossed roof and then to the North Tower. He had to go up there; it was the highest point after all. The roof was battered and difficult to navigate, the central beam covered in an ornate metal design, presumably specifically to stop these kinds of shenanigans. From the centre of the roof he couldn’t see his phone any more, but he wasn’t particularly worried about anyone stealing it. He made his way across the central beam towards the North Tower and started to climb.

Halfway to the parapet, his leg started to cramp. He tried to get to the top faster, but the pain in his leg deepened. He shook it to lessen the pain but it just got sharper. His thigh was spasming now and he had to decide whether to go up or down. The top was closer and at least if he made it there then there was a flat surface to stand on. He pulled himself up, wincing with the pain, his leg pulling him down. He should have just stayed at the top of the western screen. It’s not like the camera could see him any more, anyway.

Toby reached for the thin ledge and his hand slipped. All too quickly and without him knowing in which order his body was failing him, he started to fall. His shin hit the triangular spine of the roof with the full weight of his body behind it. The spikes tore through the fabric and the flesh straight through to the bone. He cried out. Still no sirens to be heard. He continued to fall and bounce from stone and slate for what felt like an eternity, his skin grazing and bruising with each thud. This was the last one though, the last fall. Was there any way to survive a fall from this height?

He hit the ground, his head cracking against the pavement. He was facing west and he could see his phone on the grass pointing up at the rose window. It wasn’t even capturing this moment. He was dying and no one would even see it.