by Darren Shan
“Life is a gift, B, and we have abused it from the start. There have been sparks of hope along the way, good people who showed us that we are not all bitter and cruel. But too little goodness, spread too thinly.
“I want to bring to this world the peace that the great prophets tried and failed to introduce. God hoped to show us the way through honest, decent people. When that failed, He decided to operate through a base, monstrous creature instead. Me.”
Dr. Oystein turns away from the freezers and starts walking again. We follow in silence, listening numbly as he makes his pitiful case.
“It’s a shame that the human race didn’t choose the path of truth and light, but I’m a realist and, if billions must be sacrificed to heal this world’s wounds, so be it. The babies will become the upstanding citizens that the rest of us have failed to be. My Angels will teach them to be good, and there will be no wars over land, race or religion, because those things will have no meaning anymore.
“Don’t you see?” he cries. “The babies won’t overpopulate the planet or poison rivers, oceans, the air. They won’t hunt animals to extinction or tear down forests to make a profit. They won’t go to war or persecute their fellow beings.
“They’ll continue to make scientific advances, and aim for the stars, as humanity has since we first began to dream. But they’ll do so because they want to spread love and joy, not because they yearn to conquer.”
“Hippie twaddle,” Rage mutters, then grimaces. I don’t think he meant to speak his thoughts out loud.
“Perhaps,” Dr. Oystein says with a little dip of his head. “But this world has been in pain for a long time. I believe that I’ve found a cure for its ills. If you consider it logically, without letting your emotions get in the way, you might find yourself starting to side with me, despite your moral objections.”
“Never,” I snap.
“You won’t even give me a chance?” Dr. Oystein asks sadly.
“Nope.”
He shrugs. “That is probably as it should be. You are tied to your path as I am tied to mine. I won’t claim that I knew how important you were when I first met you, but it swiftly became clear, even before I learned of your link to Albrecht and the babies.”
I frown. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” he says. “Zachary never told me.”
I glance at Owl Man with surprise and he pulls a whoops! expression. Then he laughs. “I returned to the fold, Becky, but I continued to work for my father as well as for my uncle. I had erred before, so I acknowledged that if I’d been wrong once, I might be wrong again. I tried to keep an open mind, to work with Oystein but to question our actions at every stage. I thought it would be dangerous to tell him of Albrecht’s love for you, or that the babies saw you as their mother.
“But, as destiny brought you, my father and the babies ever closer together, I saw that I was a fool to stand in its way. You have been the key from the start, the only one who could penetrate Albrecht’s defenses, find the missing vial and return it to us. I’m not sure if it’s the hand of God or a quirk of fate, but your purpose from the day you drew your first breath has been to lead us to this moment.”
“You’re a goddess,” Dr. Oystein says softly. “You will bring death to this world, as many gods and goddesses of legend did, but you’ll also bring fresh life and hope to its shores. You are the mother of the future and the executioner of the past, our greatest dread and our most glorious triumph.”
“How’s that for flattery?” Rage laughs as I gape at the pair of beaming men. “Don’t worry, Becky, to me you’re still an ugly, charmless troll. I won’t be building a shrine to you any time soon.”
“Thank heaven for that,” I sneer, then shake my head at the doc and his nephew. “You two are lunatics.”
Dr. Oystein smiles again, then stops at the door of a room with lots of laden bookshelves. “If so, this is where our lunacy reaches its towering crescendo.”
The doc pushes the door open and goes to a shelf. There are several Bibles on it. He takes one down and lays it on a table. Stares at it with a look that’s half love, half fear.
“Gods and goddesses cannot work alone,” he mutters. “They need help from their human servants. We all have a part to play. Zachary and I knew that destiny might require a helping hand. So when he was hypnotizing you, he…”
The doc raises an eyebrow and Owl Man takes over.
“I have spent decades studying my father’s mind. Because of our natural bond, he let me get close to him, but he never granted me access to the most intimate levels of his mental universe. Even so, I had a good idea of how to penetrate his defenses, assuming one could get close enough to strike the first blow.”
“You set me up to attack him!” I shout, seeing it now. “You stuck some sort of a time bomb inside my head, so that when we married and he opened himself up to me, I’d rip the location of the vial from him.”
“Yes,” Owl Man says proudly. “It wasn’t easy. You will have no recollection of it, but I had you under my wing for the better part of two weeks. I had to prime you, then hide all traces of my interference. We couldn’t be sure that it would work, but we did the best job we could.”
“After that we had to trust in fate,” Dr. Oystein says. “We were tempted to push you towards Albrecht, but he would have seen through such designs. Being so paranoid, he can sniff out a trap from miles away. So we did nothing to pitch you together. We were sure you would find your way to him in time. As I said earlier, you are a creature of destiny. This was always going to happen. It was simply a matter of when and how.”
“They make a persuasive case,” Rage murmurs.
“They’re nutters,” I snarl.
“Yeah, but the way it went down… me finding out the truth about the doc… teaming up with Dan-Dan… you following us to Battersea… If I wasn’t an atheist, I’d say that was all too much to be mere coincidence.”
I grin bleakly. “You know what they say—it’s a small world.”
“Anyway,” Dr. Oystein concludes, “that brings us to where we are now. All that remains is for us to see this through to its preordained finale. It’s time for you to hand over the vial that you took from my brother. Then we can draw a line in the sand, bid the living farewell and take our first tentative steps forward.”
The doc opens up the Bible. I see that it’s hollow inside. Something nestles within. He tenderly prizes the object out of its resting place and I spot a vial full of a dark red liquid. He shakes it at me. Pretends to drop it. Laughs when I gasp.
“It would not matter if it fell,” he says. “The container would hold. You’d need a jackhammer to even dent it.”
“Is that Clements-13?” I croak, even though I know it’s a stupid question.
“Yes,” he says, his smile fading. “The two viruses, together at last.”
I stare at the vial, fixated. I don’t know why he’s shown it to us, why he’s taken this risk and flashed his ace card when there was no need. He’s hidden the zombie-destroying virus all this time. Why display it now?
But this is my big chance. If I can swipe it from him, remove the outer tubes, smash open the inner vial and release the zombie-eliminating fumes…
“Easy,” Owl Man murmurs as I strain against his hold over me.
Dr. Oystein holds out the vial of Clements-13, gently teasing me. “Come now, B,” he says sweetly. “The time for games is over. This is where we get serious. I have shown you mine. Now you need to show me yours.
“Pass me the vial of Schlesinger-10, please.”
EIGHT
All three stare at me expectantly, waiting for me to hand over the poison that will bring the human era to a swift and fatal end. I stare back solemnly at the doc, saying nothing, milking the moment.
Then I grin wickedly and shoot him the finger.
Dr. Oystein’s face darkens. “Do not toy with me,” he growls.
“Get stuffed,” I jeer.
“Becky!” Owl Man barks. “Giv
e him the vial.”
“You can get stuffed too,” I retort with undeniable relish.
Owl Man blinks with shock.
Dr. Oystein snaps, “Has she broken your hold over her?”
“She must have,” Owl Man mutters, “but I do not know how.”
“Don’t sweat it, Owlie,” I smirk. “If I had free will, I’d be ripping your brains out. You’re still the boss of me, worse luck.”
“Then give him the vial,” Owl Man says slowly, sternly, his voice resonating deeply.
“Can’t,” I beam. Then I hit them with the kicker. “I don’t have it.”
Rage howls with laughter as the men gape. “Trust Queen B to come up with a kick-in-the-nuts twist!”
“But you told us you had it,” Dr. Oystein wheezes, ignoring the gleeful Rage.
“No,” I correct him. “You asked me if I’d taken it from Mr. Dowling. I said I had, which was the truth. I also told you I’d hidden it in the cavity of my stomach, which was true too. But you never asked me if I still had it.”
Dr. Oystein looks as if he’s about to throw up. Owl Man has started to tremble. Rage carries on laughing.
“You set it aside?” the doc croaks.
“Yeah,” I drawl.
“Where is it?” he asks.
“Don’t know,” I answer innocently.
“Zachary!” he yells, losing his temper.
“Tell us where it is,” Owl Man says gravely.
“I can’t,” I reply sweetly. “Like I said, I don’t know.”
“But you must!” Dr. Oystein howls. Sakarias is startled by the noise and growls angrily at the doctor.
“But I don’t,” I smile.
Dr. Oystein raises a hand to strike me. Owl Man coughs politely and says, “No, uncle. That is not your way. You will regret it if you hit her.” As the doc practically foams at the mouth, Owl Man faces me. “Tell us what you did with the vial, Becky.”
“Well, since you asked nicely…” I simper, then shrug. “When I saw that County Hall had fallen, I lost hope. I thought the good doctor was done for, that Mr. Dowling had killed him. I was sure my vengeful husband would track me down and retrieve his precious vial. I wanted to thwart him.
“So I gave the vial to Holy Moly. I told the lovable little beast that if it wanted to please its mummy, it should take the vial deep underground and hide it in a place where nobody would ever find it.
“You’re back where you started, doc. The vial’s lost to you, out of sight, out of reach. How does that tickle your fancy, creep?”
NINE
Dr. Oystein’s face crumples and his body sags. It’s like he’s folding in on himself. There’s a chair behind the table and he sinks into it, clutching the vial of Clements-13 to his chest, staring off into space.
I pick up the hollowed Bible and smile at the cover. “So much for the Good Book,” I smirk, then slam it down on the table.
“What a girl,” Rage whoops. He’s loving this. Rage is like Mr. Dowling, a relisher of chaos. It doesn’t matter that he’s allied himself with Owl Man and Dr. Oystein. He can still admire a tasty piece of trickery.
“A most unfortunate and unexpected twist,” Owl Man murmurs. “But one that is not as cruel a blow as you suspect. This is not the end for us, uncle. In fact, it now frees us to push ahead as we would have years ago if not for the bind which Albrecht had us in.”
Dr. Oystein stares at Owl Man blankly, as if he doesn’t understand the language.
“Do you want to pass the vial of Clements-13 to me?” Owl Man asks quietly. “I can take care of it for you.”
That seems like a strange request, but maybe he’s worried that the doc will lose his mind and accidentally open the vial and spill the zombie-destroying liquid in his distressed state.
Dr. Oystein looks at the vial, thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “No.”
Owl Man frowns. “Are you sure? I think this is the time to–”
“No!” Dr. Oystein shouts. He points a finger at Owl Man and starts to tear into him. But then he collects himself and smiles shakily. “No, Zachary. You are right. This is not the end. But we must be careful. As you said earlier, the last few steps can be the most treacherous. We should think this through before acting.”
The doc places the vial of Clements-13 on the table and stares at the red liquid, immersed in his thoughts. For a long time silence reigns. Finally he looks at us again and his expression clears.
“We could have targeted Albrecht years ago, but I was worried that if we killed him, we would never find where he had hidden his sample of Schlesinger-10. Without it, we face a long, hard, hand-to-hand war with the human survivors, and I doubt we will ever fully wipe them from the face of the planet.
“Now that Albrecht has lost his key prize, there’s nothing to stop us hunting my brother, storming his den, finishing him off and taking control of the babies. It would be a harsh battle, with many casualties on both sides, but I’m sure we would be triumphant. That’s what Zachary meant when he said that we’re free to push ahead.
“But the vial of Schlesinger-10 is even more important to us than the babies. We need it to ensure victory over the living. Without it, we cannot shield the babies from their interference, and I fear that history will repeat itself, and the babies will grow up to mimic the destructive ways of their human forebears.
“I think we still have a chance to recover the vial. The babies see Albrecht as their father. I’m not convinced that the one you call Holy Moly will obey your wishes. It will probably return the sample of Schlesinger-10 to Albrecht. If it does, and we hit his base swiftly, we might be able to catch him before he can hide it again.”
Owl Man is staring at Dr. Oystein oddly, head cocked. He looks like he wants to ask a question, but the doc waves a hand at him and he says nothing.
“If Holy Moly has hidden the vial as you requested, an attack might compel it to change its mind. If we threaten Albrecht, the baby might return the vial to its father. If my brother got his hands on it again, and escaped, our stalemate would be resumed. Maybe we should do nothing, keep our eyes open, let the dust settle and try to set a trap for the baby farther down the line. If we could capture it and convince it to reveal the location of the vial…”
Dr. Oystein thinks about this in silence for a long time. Finally he stands.
“We will gamble and take the offensive. If we find Albrecht with the Schlesinger-10 in his possession, we’ll kill him and take it. If the baby has hidden it, we’ll eliminate Albrecht and deal with the infant afterwards—perhaps B can persuade it to give us the vial. In the worst-case scenario, if Albrecht has regained his prize and stashed it in a secret hiding place, or stands poised, ready to open it, we’ll retreat and hope that another opportunity to retrieve the liquid presents itself.”
Dr. Oystein starts to put the Clements-13 back into the Bible. Then he stops and studies it uncertainly. He looks at Rage and me. “But what to do with this? I could leave it here, where it has sat safely all this time, but Rage and B know about it now. If our paths diverge, one of them might return and steal it, and use it to destroy all of the living dead.”
The doc chuckles ruefully. “I should not have shown my hand before making sure that you had the vial of Schlesinger-10. I thought this was the final act. I behaved like one of those silly Bond villains, revealing too much when the battle had yet to be decided.”
The doc thinks about it some more, then sticks the vial of zombie-eradicating liquid in one of his pockets. “I’ll keep it with me,” he says. “It will be as safe on my person as it will be anywhere. It might even prove useful. If we fall foul of Albrecht’s army, and he pins us down, I can use it to force him to let us go.”
Dr. Oystein flashes a smile at me. “Perhaps I did not act so rashly. In retrospect, I think I was prompted to reveal my hidden sample of Clements-13. God knew what you had done with your vial, Becky, and He gently nudged me to bring mine out into the light, knowing that I might have need of it soon.”
“Sure,” I say sarcastically. “It was all God’s doing. Only a lunatic would think any differently.”
The doc doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead he starts for the door, telling Owl Man to follow, ticking off on his fingers the things that they need to do. He’s all business now, fully focused on the battle to come, confident of victory, a twisted angel on a demonic mission.
TEN
We use Barnes’s boat to cross the river, then make our way through the streets to Bow. The doc and Owl Man are nervous, afraid the babies or mutants will spot us if they’re still abroad. But the city is quiet. The zombies have retreated ahead of the spreading sunlight and there’s no sign of Mr. Dowling or his troops. They’re either searching for me elsewhere or they’ve retired, as Owl Man suggested, to consider their next course of action.
I want to bolt for freedom, but Owl Man hasn’t given me permission to stray, so I’m still bound close to his side. He’s also ordered my silence again, so that I can’t betray them if we have to hide. I keep trying to break free, to lash out at him and slit his throat, but he’s sunk his hooks deep inside my brain, where I can’t rip them loose.
After a short trek, we arrive at the gates of the Bow Quarter. Once a factory and then expensive flats, my dad called it the Beverly Hills of the East End. Now it’s been turned into a makeshift base for Dr. Oystein’s Angels.
The revitalizeds come out to gape as we enter. I don’t know what the doc told them about me, whether they think I’m mad or a traitor. All they know for sure is that I attacked their leader, Rage slaughtered two of their friends and Owl Man is a long-standing enemy. They’re not happy to see any of us and I understand why.
The doc pauses in the middle of an open area and beckons the Angels forward. I spot some familiar faces among the mix, my roommates Ashtat, Shane and Carl, the twins Cian and Awnya, Ingrid and Ivor. Master Zhang is present too, along with the living Ciara and Reilly–a dinner lady and an ex-soldier–who are standing slightly apart from the others, holding hands and looking worried.