The Brute barely noticed what she was up to; he was still lost in thought. Yeah, y’know, this place is actually kind of romantic, he was thinking as Lauryn found the switch and flicked it on. The fluorescent lights began to buzz and flicker as they came to life. The light was harsh and made everything seem a little too real, killing the romantic mood The Brute had been hoping would continue. Of course, if the lights hadn’t done it, the mood would have been broken by the member of the undead who was on the other side of the shop’s front door.
When Cedric had reached the count of three, he’d kicked out with everything he’d got. His feet smashed against the roof of their prison and the wood began to creak.
‘That was a good start,’ he’d wheezed as some splinters nestled in his ear. ‘You ready to kick again?’
‘More ready than you are,’ Kate said.
‘We’ll see about that.’
It had taken them ten minutes to break free of the box. They had both been surprised to find that they were in a clothes shop.
‘What’s going on here, Ced?’
‘I don’t know. And before you point it out, yes, I’m aware that I’m a detective.’
‘A clothes shop?’ Kate said. ‘Who keeps someone prisoner in a clothes shop?’
‘Someone who thinks we have terrible taste in clothing and wants us to dress more sharply,’ Cedric suggested.
Kate ignored the idiotic remark. She found the switches she was looking for and turned them on.
‘Wow,’ she said, as the shop was flooded with light, revealing aisle after aisle of clothing. ‘This is an expensive place. They’ve got some really good quality stuff here.’
‘I thought you didn’t have any interest in clothes,’ Cedric said.
‘I’ve as much interest in clothes as you have in taking a shower,’ Kate said, examining a beige cashmere jumper.
Huh? Was she saying he stank? Cedric sneakily smelled his armpits. Phew. It was fairly unpleasant.
‘Kate, I’ve uncovered a clue.’
‘What is it?’
‘Remember the way, when we were trapped in the box, that I said it sounded like there was someone moaning and groaning out there and you said you didn’t hear anything? Well, take a look.’
He pointed to the front door.
On the other side of the glass an undead man stood in the hallway, staring in. Cedric looked smug.
‘Yeah, good one, Ced. This is really the right time for your “I told you so” face,’ Kate said.
Lauryn finished packing the Peppa Pig schoolbag that had been designed for someone at least ten years younger than she was. She zipped it up and slung it over her right shoulder. It was so small that if she’d tried to put it over both shoulders it would have ripped apart.
‘Well?’ Lauryn asked when The Brute returned.
‘There’s some kind of digital door lock on the back door. Unless you’re a code-cracking genius, then it looks like we could be spending a lot of time in here.’
‘What are you talking about?’
He glanced at the undead outside, pawing at the clear glass. It had been joined by another – this one was wearing a security guard’s uniform. Other than that they were very similar. Blank eyes. Slack jaws. Drool dripping down their chins. They stumbled forward banging against the glass as if they were controlled by a three-year-old with a remote. He wondered why the light wasn’t affecting them. They were supposed to be bothered by light, weren’t they?
‘We can’t leave while those lads are outside. As long as we stay in here, we’ll be safe,’ The Brute said. ‘There’s plenty to eat and drink and someone will turn up to rescue us eventually.’
‘And what about your cousin?’
‘Colm? He’ll be fine. He’s well able to look after himself.’
He didn’t like the look Lauryn gave him. It seemed to be a combination of disgust and … no, disgust pretty much covered it.
‘You know I’m joking, right?’ he lied.
‘Really? What you said was funny? I guess I just don’t get the Irish sense of humour.’
‘Oh yeah, if Colm was here he’d be cracking up at what I said. So what’s the plan?’
‘Good. That’s more like it. Right, what we’re going to do is this – you’re going to open the doors and I’m going to launch myself at the two dead dudes out there. They seem kind of dopey, so they won’t expect us to attack. I knock them down, then you drag me off them and we look for Colm.’
‘Right, good plan … just a couple of problems with it. Like, what if they just grab you and try to eat you?’
‘It’s a chance I’m willing to take.’
‘Fair enough, but let me put it another way – WHAT IF THEY GRAB YOU AND TRY TO EAT YOU?’
‘Fortune favours the brave.’
‘I’ve never understood that phrase. Anyway, we can’t do it. The doors are locked. I’d love to open them, but …’
‘That’s OK, I can pick door locks.’
‘Of course you can,’ The Brute sighed. ‘Excuse me.’
He brushed past her and ducked beneath the counter.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just a hunch. You’d be surprised how often people leave spare keys in obvious places … a-ha.’ When he re-emerged he was holding a little silver key.
‘Is that …’ Lauryn began.
‘The spare key.’
‘Why would anyone leave a spare key in a shop? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Who cares?’ The Brute said.
‘Right, you unlock the door and I’ll hit ’em hard.’
‘I can’t do it, Lauryn. I can’t unlock the door.’
‘If you’re not going to do it, give it to me.’
The Brute held the key aloft, just out of reach. ‘Sorry, I can’t let you go out there. It’s madness.’
‘Every second we spend here yapping is a second wasted. Colm is in danger. And if the guy behind this kidnapping is The Ghost you can bet he has something planned for us too. I’m not someone who can sit around waiting for something to happen to me. I’m going out that door whether you help me or not and I’m not going to waste valuable minutes picking the lock.’
‘You’ll have to if I have the key,’ he replied.
Lauryn punched him in the stomach. He wasn’t expecting it and he doubled over in pain. She plucked the key from his fingers.
‘Good one,’ The Brute wheezed. There aren’t too many people who are impressed when you punch them in the belly, but he was one of the few.
‘Sorry, I didn’t want to do that, but …’
‘I know,’ he said, catching his breath. ‘It’s all right. I’ll help you.’
‘Do you mean it?’ Lauryn asked.
He did. He had to help her. He couldn’t let her go out there by herself. Anyway, he liked to think of himself as a man of action and it was time to act, even if it meant facing some half-deads or undeads or vamumzompires.
‘Glad you’re on board,’ Lauryn said, handing him back the key.
The Brute moved to the door and put the key in the lock. His heart thumped in his chest.
‘One thing – I’m going to hit those guys, not you.’
Lauryn began to raise an objection, but The Brute cut her off with a wave of his hand.
‘It’s not ’cos I think you can’t. Your punch to my stomach was almost perfect. I know you’re tough, but it’s just that I’m bigger. It makes more sense.’
‘OK,’ Lauryn said with a smile. ‘Just give me a second.’
She took the schoolbag off her shoulder, unzipped it and reached in.
‘I hope you paid for that stuff,’ The Brute said.
‘I left them an IOU,’ Lauryn replied with a half-smile.
The Brute noticed that the hand that held the key was shaking like jelly on a windy day. Just pretend those guys are a couple of rugby centres, he told himself. You’ve got the ball and you’ve got to burst through them.
The undead stared in at him. They didn�
�t understand what was happening, their brains only told them one thing – to kill anyone they encountered. Their limbs flailed against the glass.
Ugliest centres I ever saw, The Brute thought.
Lauryn nodded at him. She was ready. It was time.
He turned the key in the lock and wrenched the door open.
The undead stumbled forward into the shop as Lauryn flung something in their direction.
A bright yellow frisbee caught the first one right on the nose. Its head jerked back and it tottered for a moment before slipping on the tiled floor and hitting the ground. Its body began to spasm.
The second frisbee she threw – a pink one – sailed harmlessly over the creature in the security guard’s uniform. It flew out into the hallway.
The Brute heard Lauryn swear as he threw himself forward, grabbing the creature around the waist and bringing it down with a perfectly timed tackle. There wasn’t time to congratulate himself. He sprang to his feet, leaped over the still prone first creature and out into the hallway. Lauryn sprinted after him, but as she jumped over the two creatures lying on the ground, the first one began to rise, moaning horrifically. Its hand reached out and grabbed her foot, tripping her up. She landed on her shoulder, crying out as the pain shot through her.
The Brute was by her side immediately. He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her up, but the creature was still clinging on to her foot, so he took hold of her under the arms and started to pull her out of the shop. A brief tug of war developed and as this was going on the security guard drew itself up. It saw its chance.
The Brute’s eyes were bulging with the effort as he dragged Lauryn out through the door. The undead wouldn’t let go and he was having to drag both of them along the ground. It was exhausting and the decaying stench given off by the two creatures was almost unbearable. It was so rank it burned the inside of his nostrils.
‘You go. Leave me here, I can fight them off,’ Lauryn cried.
‘That line only works in films,’ The Brute grunted, continuing to pull.
The undead security man, which had worked its way around the bodies on the ground, now swung an arm towards The Brute, its hot, clammy fingers clawing against the teenager’s sweaty face. The second creature pulled itself forward, using Lauryn as a climbing rope. She saw the way its eyes changed the closer it got to her beating heart. The dullness became a gleam, like an animal that’s just realised it’s feeding time. She kicked out, wriggling like a snake on fast forward, but the creature hung on grimly.
‘Let me go,’ The Brute shouted.
Lauryn hadn’t time to look at him. Was he talking to her?
‘Lauryn. Let me go,’ he repeated.
Was this guy deserting her? So what if he is, I can take these two creatures by myself, Lauryn thought, even though deep down she knew that she couldn’t. No matter how often she kicked out at the one on her leg it wouldn’t let go.
She released the grip she hadn’t realised she had on The Brute. He removed his arms from under hers, shrugged off the security creature and ran farther out into the hallway.
He really is going to desert me, Lauryn thought, as she heard his footsteps move rapidly away.
But he wasn’t leaving her behind. He was just backing up to get a bit of momentum going. He reached the wall on the far side of the hall, turned and ran back towards the shop. He stuck out an arm at a ninety degree angle from his body and kept it straight and strong. He sprinted faster than he’d ever sprinted before. The security undead looked at him, confused, then the creature’s world went black as The Brute’s arm caught it hard on the chest, clothes-lining it and sending it into a flip that would have won a bronze at an Undead Olympic Gymnasts’ competition.
The Brute left the ground and swan-dived forward, propelled by his speed, and landed right on top of the second creature, flattening it.
The creature let out a moan of pain and released its hold on Lauryn. She got to her feet as The Brute jumped back to his and beat his chest in defiance.
‘Don’t ever mess with the “dude”,’ he shouted at the prostrate undead.
‘You can gloat later,’ Lauryn said, slinging the schoolbag over her shoulder again. ‘Let’s get out of here before they recover.’
‘If they recover,’ The Brute smirked.
But he still dragged the two bodies into the shop and locked the door behind him so that the creatures were trapped.
‘Now let’s finish this,’ Lauryn said.
She took The Brute’s hand, which almost caused him to faint with excitement, and they began to run along the darkened hall.
Twenty-Three
‘Hey you, open the door,’ Kate shouted at the undead creature outside. She banged against the door with her fist. ‘Wait a second, I recognise him. He’s the guy who kidnapped me.’
She was right. The undead was Wiry Boris. Although the part of him that had been Boris, the unpleasantness that had been his personality, seemed to have gone on holiday. He walked into the glass door again and again, driven by a desire to kill. No more getting the others to do his dirty work. This time he was going to do it all by himself.
‘I know him too,’ Cedric said. ‘I punched him on the nose.’
‘I threw him into a dish of cat food,’ Kate said. ‘I’d say that hurt more than one of your punches.’
‘It’s not a competition, Kate.’
‘He doesn’t look like himself. I mean, he’s still creepy, but it’s a different sort of creepiness.’
The creature that was once Wiry Boris bumped into the door again, then tottered backwards, leaving a trail of snot and slime on the glass.
‘Disgusting,’ Kate muttered to herself.
‘He reminds me of …’ Cedric began.
‘What?’
‘That Hugh DeLancey-O’Brien creature. The one I helped dispose of in the woods that night. He’s acting a bit like him.’
‘Is he a zombie? ’Cos I don’t like zombies. They eat brains, don’t they?’ Kate said.
‘No, that’s a popular myth. The first brain-eaters only appeared in a film in the late 1960s–’
‘Are you giving me a history lesson? Listen to me, Cedric Murphy – I don’t care about myths. I want to know what he’ll do if he gets in here.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then shut your trap about the 1960s and all that rubbish.’
‘I presume he’ll kill us in some way. Probably gruesomely. I mean the man who captured us is unlikely to put the undead outside as guards if they’re just going to let us pass by. No, it’ll be horrifying and gruesome, all right.’
‘You really have no idea of how to reassure someone, do you?’ Kate said.
‘You’re big enough to handle the truth,’ Cedric replied.
That was true enough.
‘If our kidnapper put us here and has given us an undead guard, then that means he wants to stop us going outside. When somebody wants me to do something, I really, really want to do the opposite, no matter how scary it is,’ Kate said.
‘You’re saying you want us to break out of here, aren’t you?’
‘You bet your sweet bippy that’s what I’m saying.’
‘All the doors are locked,’ Cedric said.
‘Then we’ll have to bust our way out.’
‘Bust our way out? You sound like–’
Kate gave him one of her trademark withering glares. ‘What? What do I sound like?’
‘You sound like a woman with a plan,’ Cedric said with a gulp. ‘Let’s bust out of here. I can’t wait to get out there and face that creature.’
‘Those creatures,’ Kate corrected him as the undead Pretty Boy and Uggo joined their hated colleague outside the door.
‘This just gets better and better,’ Cedric sighed.
‘Shhh, do you hear that?’
The sound of footsteps outside. Somebody was running down the hallway. Kate’s jaw dropped open as The Brute and Lauryn raced past, skilfully dodging the outstretched arms of the
former goons.
‘Was that …’
‘Oh yeah, I forgot to mention them. Funny story,’ Cedric said.
Kate wasn’t listening. The three undead creatures had lost interest in getting into the shop. They turned and began to amble after Lauryn and The Brute. They were ten times slower than the teenagers, but they only had one thing on their minds and they wouldn’t be stopped.
The security control centre was brightly lit. There were two chairs in front of a large bank of blank computer screens. Colm sat in one of them.
His eyes flickered open.
‘You’re back,’ The Ghost said without a hint of emotion.
Colm tried to shake away the cloud of fuzziness that enveloped his mind.
‘Where am I?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Colm got to his feet. He felt a little unsteady, but stronger than he expected. He was doing his best to remain calm. He needed to think clearly, now more than ever. Did the man really think that he could make himself immortal? Eighteen months ago Colm would have laughed at the idea, but he’d seen a lot of strange things since then.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ he said.
The Ghost ignored him. He reached under a desk and took out a wooden shield about one metre high and half a metre across at its widest point. It was covered with intricate wooden carvings of horrific scenes, all depicting people dying in a stomach-churning manner. There were three small holes at its centre. For a moment The Ghost seemed to be consumed by it, as if it was a thing of beauty. He ran his fingers across the wooden surface, lightly caressing it.
Colm’s eyes were scanning the room, searching for something he could use, anything that might help him to escape. The only door was triple locked. Two deadlocks and a thick, iron bolt. Was it to stop Colm getting out or someone from getting in? Maybe both. The Ghost was far stronger than Colm, but if he wanted to stop him getting out … did that mean the Abbatage ceremony made him weak? Possibly, but it wasn’t something Colm could rely upon. There wasn’t much else in there. Other than the desks and chairs and computers. Except that microphone which he assumed was used for announcements, but what good was that?
The Ghost handed him the shield. ‘Hold this.’
Colm & the Ghost's Revenge Page 14