Bod wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no. He glanced out of the car window. Something huge was flying through the air, above the car and to one side, something darker and bigger than the biggest bird. Something man-size that flickered and fluttered as it moved, like the strobing flight of a bat.
The ginger policeman said, “When we get to the station, best if you just give us your name, tell us who to call to come and get you, we can tell them we gave you a bollocking, they can take you home. See? You cooperate, we have an easy night, less paperwork for everyone. We’re your friends.”
“You’re too easy on him. A night in the cells isn’t that hard,” said the large policeman to his friend. Then he looked back at Bod, and said, “Unless it’s a busy night, and we have to put you in with some of the drunks. They can be nasty.”
Bod thought, He’s lying! and They’re doing this on purpose, the friendly one and the tough one…
Then the police car turned a corner, and there was a thump! Something big rode up onto the hood of the car and was knocked off into the dark. A screech of brakes as the car stopped, and the ginger policeman began to swear under his breath.
“He just ran out into the road!” he said. “You saw it!”
“I’m not sure what I saw,” said the larger policeman. “You hit something, though.”
They got out of the car, shone lights around. The ginger policeman said, “He was wearing black! You can’t see it.”
“He’s over here,” shouted the large policeman. The two men hurried over to the body on the ground, holding flashlights.
Bod tried the door handles on the backseat. They did not work. And there was a metal grille between the back and the front. Even if he Faded, he was still stuck in the backseat of a police car.
He leaned over as far as he could, craning to try and see what had happened, what was on the road.
The ginger policeman was crouched beside a body, looking at it. The other, the large one, was standing above it, shining a light down into its face.
Bod looked at the face of the fallen body—then he began to bang on the window, frantically, desperately.
The large policeman came over to the car.
“What?” he said, irritably.
“You hit my—my dad,” said Bod.
“You’re kidding.”
“It looks like him,” said Bod. “Can I look properly?”
The large policeman’s shoulders slumped. “Oy! Simon, the kid says it’s his dad.”
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.”
“I think he’s serious.” The large policeman opened the door, and Bod got out.
Silas was sprawled on his back, on the ground, where the car had knocked him. He was deathly still.
Bod’s eyes prickled.
He said, “Dad?” Then he said, “You killed him.” He wasn’t lying, he told himself—not really.
“I’ve called an ambulance,” said Simon, the ginger-mustached policeman.
“It was an accident,” said the other.
Bod crouched by Silas, and he squeezed Silas’s cold hand in his. If they had already called an ambulance there was not much time. He said, “So that’s your careers over, then.”
“It was an accident—you saw!”
“He just stepped out—”
“What I saw,” said Bod, “is that you agreed to do a favor for your niece, and frighten a kid she’s been fighting with at school. So you arrested me without a warrant for being out late, and then when my dad runs out into the road to try and stop you or to find out what was going on, you intentionally ran him over.”
“It was an accident!” repeated Simon.
“You’ve been fighting with Mo at school?” said Mo’s uncle Tam, but he didn’t sound convincing.
“We’re both in Eight B at the Old Town School,” said Bod. “And you killed my dad.”
Far off, he could hear the sound of sirens.
“Simon,” said the large man, “we have to talk about this.”
They walked over to the other side of the car, leaving Bod alone in the shadows with the fallen Silas. Bod could hear the two policemen talking heatedly—“Your bloody niece!” was used, and so was “If you’d kept your eyes on the road!” Simon jabbed his finger into Tam’s chest…
Bod whispered, “They aren’t looking. Now.” And he Faded.
There was a swirl of deeper darkness, and the body on the ground was now standing beside him.
Silas said, “I’ll take you home. Put your arms around my neck.”
Bod did, holding tightly to his guardian, and they plunged through the night, heading for the graveyard.
“I’m sorry,” said Bod.
“I’m sorry too,” said Silas.
“Did it hurt?” asked Bod. “Letting the car hit you like that?”
“Yes,” said Silas. “You should thank your little witch-friend. She came and found me, told me you were in trouble, and what kind of trouble you were in.”
They landed in the graveyard. Bod looked at his home as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. He said, “What happened tonight was stupid, wasn’t it? I mean, I put things at risk.”
“More things than you know, young Nobody Owens. Yes.”
“You were right,” said Bod. “I won’t go back. Not to that school, and not like that.”