Necropolis pof-4

by Anthony Horowitz

  They might have been safer in the house but they could hardly bear to look at it, the ruin that it had become. Somehow, it didn’t seem likely that the Old Ones would return… not in the daylight. And anyway, the Incas were somewhere close. There was no danger of a second attack. Richard had brought out a tray of iced lemonade and a plate of empanadas, the little cheese pastries that they had often devoured. But nobody was hungry. They were exhausted and unhappy. Nobody knew what they were supposed to do.

  One thing was sure. They couldn’t stay here much longer. The house still had water and electricity and they might even be able to repair the roof. But there was no alarm system. The Incas couldn’t protect them indefinitely. And – more to the point – none of them wanted to be here. The moment Professor Chambers had been taken from the hacienda, all of its life seemed to have gone with her.

  “OK…” It was Richard who was the first to speak and Matt was grateful to him for breaking the silence, for taking control. He was wearing a clean polo shirt and jeans, but he looked completely worn out, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

  “This is a council of war,” he said. “Because it looks as if the war has finally arrived. We have to talk about last night. We have to deal with it and put it behind us. And I might as well start by saying that it was mainly my fault.” He held up a hand before anyone could interrupt him. “When Ramon came to the house, I turned off the security system. But I never put it back on again. Not the radar, anyway. Maybe that was the idea. Maybe that was why he was sent to us. A diversion…”

  “It was my fault too,” Scott cut in. “Matt wanted me to look into his mind and I did. But somehow he managed to fool me. I thought he was telling the truth.”

  “Maybe he was telling the truth,” Matt said. “He brought us the diary… and do you really think he would have just sat there and allowed himself to be killed? Maybe they followed him from Lima. The whole point of last night could have been simply that they wanted the diary back.”

  “The question we’ve got to ask ourselves is – what are we going to do next?” Richard said. “It’s been more than forty-eight hours since Scarlett Adams appeared in the newspapers. The Nexus are still watching her but we can’t leave her on her own much longer. On the other hand…” He nodded at Matt. “Matt has lost his passport so he’s not flying anywhere.”

  “We can use the door,” Jamie said. “The same one that Scott and me came through. All we have to do is get to the Temple of Coricancha in Cuzco. We walk in… we walk out in London. We don’t need a plane.”

  It seemed obvious. It was exactly the reason why the doors had been built in the first place. But Richard shook his head. “We can’t use the doors,” he said. “Think about it, Jamie. Salamanda had the diary and he obviously studied it carefully. If the Old Ones are looking for us – and it seems pretty likely that they are – that’s exactly how they’ll expect us to travel.”

  “Maybe they never saw the diary,” Pedro said. “It was in the office of Senor Salamanda. He could never have shown it to them.”

  Richard was still unhappy. “It’s too much of a risk. Anyway, they know about the door in St Meredith’s. Scarlett went through it. That’s probably what started all this. They could be waiting for us there. I know it’s boring, but I reckon we’re much safer taking planes.”

  “But Matt doesn’t have a passport,” Scott said.

  “The Nexus can get us into America,” Richard replied. “I spoke to Nathalie Johnson this morning and she’s sending a private plane. It’s already on its way. And she’s been in touch with John Trelawney. The two of them have enough clout to get us through immigration. They can also get Matt a new passport. After all, they didn’t have any difficulty getting Pedro his. It’ll take a couple of days but we could be in England by Tuesday.”

  Scott and Jamie had met Nathalie Johnson before they came to Peru. She was an American businesswoman who had made a fortune out of computers before she had been drawn into the Nexus. John Trelawney was the senator who had been fighting in the presidential election. The result was going to be announced in just one day and he was still the favourite to win. The two of them were powerful friends.

  Jamie considered what Richard had said. “All right, then.” He shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  “Not all of us,” Matt said.

  There was a sudden silence around the table. All eyes were turned on him.

  “I think we should separate,” he said.

  “Are you crazy…?” Scott began.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, Matt?”

  Everyone was talking at once. Matt wasn’t surprised. Even as he had decided what he was going to do, he had known that the rest of them would be against it. They were supposed to stick together. Finding each other, coming together… it was what their lives were all about. Five Gatekeepers. So far, against all the odds, four of them had managed to do exactly that. They were hours away from finding the fifth. It seemed completely mad to split up now.

  “We’ve just got to be careful,” Matt explained. “Richard and I were talking about it last night, before we were attacked. If all four of us get onto one plane and the Old Ones somehow manage to get control of it, they’ll have us at their mercy. They’ll be able to do anything with us. All four of us at once.”

  “So what are you saying?” Jamie asked.

  “We can’t stay here,” Pedro added.

  “I’m going to London with Richard,” Matt said. “We’ll meet the Nexus as soon as we can and we’ll meet Scarlett as soon as we know it’s safe.” He turned to Jamie. “I’d like you to come with us.”

  Jamie opened his mouth but said nothing. He understood the implications of what Matt had just suggested.

  “You’re leaving me behind,” Scott muttered. His voice was low and sullen.

  “It’s just for a few days. A week, no longer.”

  “Is this because I screwed up last night?”

  “You didn’t screw up.” Matt had to choose his words carefully. In a way, Scott was right. He might not be to blame, but he still couldn’t be completely trusted. Matt looked at him, slumped back from the table with his hands in his pockets, and saw the cold anger in his face. And there was something else. A sort of cruelty. When Scott had lived ten thousand years ago, his name had been Flint and it suited him. Sitting in the garden, his eyes were as hard as stone.

  “Scott and I don’t like being apart,” Jamie said.

  “I know that and I’m sorry,” Matt said. “It’s true that we’re stronger together. That’s why I want to stay in pairs. Two and two. If anything goes wrong in London, I’ll need someone to back us up.”

  “So why not take Pedro?”

  “Because Pedro doesn’t know London. He’s never been to England.”

  “Nor have I.”

  Matt sighed. “Jamie… if you really don’t like the idea, I’ll go on my own. I don’t mind doing that. I just don’t think we should all go. That’s all. I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone.”

  “And since when did you get to tell everyone what they should do?” Scott demanded. “I thought we were meant to be equal. Who put you in charge?”

  There was another long pause. Richard opened his mouth as if to say something, then changed his mind. The day was getting warmer as the sun climbed over the mountains, but the atmosphere right then was anything but. Matt looked across the lawn to the track that led back to the town of Nazca. He had been there a couple of days ago, kicking a football, waiting for Professor Chambers to get back from the shops. Now she was dead, her house was in ruins and the four of them were at each other’s throats. How could things have gone wrong so quickly?

  “Scott, I don’t think…” Jamie began.

  “Are you on his side?” Scott directed his anger at his brother.

  “We’re all on the same side,” Matt cut in. “And if we turn against each other, we might as well give up.”

  “You’ve never been on my side, Matt. You’ve never trus
ted me, not from the day I arrived here. Well, you go without me. You can all go without me. I don’t care.”

  Scott got up angrily, knocking his chair over behind him. He didn’t even notice. He walked away in the direction of the house and disappeared through the front door. Nobody spoke. Then Jamie stood up. “I’m sorry, Matt,” he said. “I’ll go and talk to him. He’ll be all right.”

  Jamie followed his brother. That just left Richard, Pedro and Matt. Richard poured out a glass of the lemonade. He offered it to Matt who shook his head. Richard drank it himself.

  “Where do you want me to go?” Pedro asked. “I do not think it is good for us to stay here.”

  Matt sighed. “I thought you’d go back to Vilcabamba with Tiso and the other Incas,” he said. “I was hoping you could spend a bit more time with Scott…” Pedro understood. Scott still needed help after his experiences as a prisoner of Nightrise.

  “I do what I can,” he said. “But Scott has a lot of pain. There are things happening here…” He tapped the side of his head. “I do not understand.”

  “You were nearly killed last night. He didn’t help you.”

  “Yes. But he and Jamie are very close. Twins. Maybe it is not such a great idea to split them up.”

  There didn’t seem anything more to say. Pedro collected the jug and the glasses and carried them in. Richard and Matt were left on their own.

  “That went well,” Matt said, gloomily.

  Richard finished his lemonade and set the glass down. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “We’re all feeling bad about last night, the death of Joanna. Jamie will talk to Scott. He knows you’re doing the best you can. They’ll work it out.”

  “I hope so.”

  “In just a week, you’ll be in Vilcabamba. All of you. You’ve got the diary now. And despite what happened last night, you all came out of it OK. None of you was badly hurt. I’m sure you’ve made the right decision, Matt. It’s all going to work out.”

  But Matt wasn’t so sure. He twisted round and looked at the house, at the scorched wood, what was left of the roof, and suddenly he was aware that something was wrong, that it didn’t quite add up.

  If Ramon had been able to find them so easily, why had it taken the Old Ones so long? And if they had wanted the diary back so badly, why hadn’t they sent a larger force? Matt had seen the sort of creatures the Old Ones had at their disposal. They had crawled out of the floor of the Nazca Desert… the armed soldiers, the giant animals, the hoards of shape-changers. But they hadn’t been there last night.

  Was he making the right decision, splitting them up? Or was this what he was meant to do? Was he reacting to decisions that had already been made?

  Later that afternoon, two cars came to the house. One would take Pedro and Scott to Arequipa, the famous “White City” in the south of Peru. They would have to stay there overnight before flying to Cuzco. Because of the thin air high up in the Andes, planes were only able to take off and land in the morning. Two of the Incas would go with them and then escort them up through the cloud forest to Vilcabamba.

  Jamie, Richard and Matt had a shorter drive to Nazca airport where a private plane was already waiting to fly them up to Miami. They would wait in Miami until Matt’s new passport arrived and then they would cross the Atlantic to England. If things went well, they would only be apart for a few days.

  Matt took one last look at the professor’s house. The town children would probably raid it in the next few days, stripping it of anything of value. He had been there for a long time. He had almost begun to think of it as his home but now it was nothing. Burned out. Broken. Empty.

  Richard loaded their bags into the boot.

  “Vilcabamba,” Matt said.

  “Vilcabamba,” Pedro agreed.

  The two of them shook hands. Scott and Jamie said nothing – but Matt knew that they were communicating even so.

  It was all over very quickly. The four boys climbed into their different cars and went their separate ways.

  THE HAPPY GARDEN

  In London, Scarlett Adams was trying to get back to her old life.

  The doctors had decided there was nothing wrong with her. The police had asked more questions but had finally given up. Maybe she had suffered from amnesia. Maybe the whole thing about her disappearance had been a schoolgirl prank – but either way they had better things to do. Even the press had decided to leave her alone. A new president, a man called Charles Baker, had just been elected in the USA, and according to all the reports, there had been something strange about the way the votes had been counted. It was turning into a huge scandal and that left no room in the papers for a girl who had been missing for less than a day.

  Just forty-eight hours after he had flown all the way to England, Paul Adams went back to Hong Kong.

  Scarlett understood why he couldn’t stay with her. He had only recently started his new job, working in the legal department of a huge company involved, amongst other things, in the manufacture of computer equipment and software. It hadn’t made a good impression, shooting off to London at such short notice. He had to get back again.

  Back to Nightrise.

  Paul Adams took Scarlett out to dinner on his last night at home. The two of them went to a little Italian restaurant that he liked in Dulwich. He ordered half a bottle of wine for himself and a lemonade for her and the two of them sat facing each other trying to think of things to say. Paul was wearing expensive jeans and a jersey that didn’t really suit him. The truth was that he was only really comfortable in a jacket and tie. It was like a second skin to him. Maybe it was his age. He was forty-nine years old and he had been a lawyer for more than half that time, devoting his life to contracts, complicated reports and charts. It was hard to imagine what he had been like as a teenager.

  “Are you going to be all right, Scarly?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Scarlett nodded.

  Neither of them had spoken very much about St Meredith’s. Paul Adams seemed to have accepted her story. She had fallen ill. She had forgotten whatever had happened. Scarlett wondered why she hadn’t confided in him. He had always been kind to her. Why was she lying to him now?

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Paul Adams paused and sipped his wine. “Do you really have no idea what happened to you?”

  “I wish I did.”

  “You could tell me, you know. I wouldn’t be cross with you. I mean, if there’s some sort of secret or something you’re afraid of…”

  Scarlett shook her head. “I told the police everything.”

  Paul Adams nodded. Then the waiter arrived with spaghetti carbonara for him, a pizza for Scarlett. There was the usual business with the oversized pepper grinder, the sprinkle of parmesan cheese. At last they were on their own again.

  “How’s the job going?” Scarlett asked. She had deliberately changed the subject.

  “Oh. It’s not too bad.” Paul Adams twirled his fork in the spaghetti. “Do you want to come to Hong Kong for the Christmas holidays? I’ve spoken to your mother and she’s happy for me to have you this year. I’ll get a few days off and we can travel together.”

  “I’d like that,” Scarlett said, although she wondered what it would be like, travelling, just the two of them. They seemed to have grown apart so quickly.

  They ate in silence. Paul Adams didn’t seem to be enjoying his food. He left half of it, then took off his glasses and began to rub them with his napkin. Looking at him just then, Scarlett thought how old he had become. It wasn’t just his hair that was going grey. It was all of him.

  “I’m sorry, Scarly,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve rather let you down, haven’t I? If I’d known that Vanessa and I weren’t going to stay together… maybe we should have thought twice about adopting a child, although of course I’m glad we did. I think the world of you. But it hasn’t been fair. Leaving you on your own with Mrs Murdoch.”

  “It was my decision,”
Scarlett reminded him.

  “Well, yes. I suppose it was.”

  “Why do you have to work in Hong Kong?” Scarlett asked.

  “It’s a wonderful opportunity. Not just the money. Nightrise has offices all over the world and if I can work my way up the ladder…” His voice trailed off. “I’ll only be there a couple of years. I’ve told them already. Then I want them to transfer me to the London office and we’ll be together again.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’ll be all right.”

  “Will you, Scarly? I hope so.”

  He left on the early flight the next day.

  Scarlett had already gone back to school – and that hadn’t been easy either. The headmistress, a grey-haired woman who looked more severe than she actually was, had made a speech in assembly, telling everyone to leave her alone, but of course they had been all over her, bombarding her with questions, desperate to know where she had really been. Scarlett had been on TV. She was a minor celebrity. Some of the younger girls had even asked her for an autograph. On the other hand, some of the teachers had been less than happy to see her – Joan Chaplin in particular. The art teacher had taken some of the responsibility for Scarlett’s disappearance and she in turn blamed Scarlett for that.

  The next couple of days passed with the usual routine of lessons and games. There were piles of homework and rehearsals for the Christmas play. Everything had returned to normal – at least, that was what Scarlett told herself. But in her heart, she knew that nothing was really normal at all. Maybe it never would be again.

  She had already decided that there was only one person she could talk to and tell the truth about her disappearance. Not her father. Not Mrs Murdoch. It had to be Aidan. He was her closest friend. He wouldn’t laugh at her. She had already texted him and the two of them met after school and walked home together, taking their time, allowing the other school kids to stream ahead.

  She told him everything: the door, the monastery, Father Gregory, the escape. She was still talking as they turned into Dulwich Park, opposite the art gallery, taking the long way round past the playground and across the grass.