by Darren Shan
THREE
I have the remaining three vehicles in sight–the jeep is in front of the two trucks now, having overtaken them along the way–when they suddenly swerve out of view. Jakob and I get to the corner and turn after them, then draw to a sickened halt.
We’re close to one of the town’s perimeter walls. There’s a large gate ahead of us. It’s like the one we saw when we first came here, designed to open and close swiftly. Owl Man or one of the Klanners must have been in contact with the operators of the gate, issuing instructions as they were getting close, because a handful of humans are racing towards the trucks, while behind them the gate has been opened and zombies are starting to stream through.
Jakob and I stare at the open gate and the inrushing reviveds, then at each other.
“This is bad,” Jakob whispers.
“No,” I correct him. “This is terrible.”
The jeep slows and lets the trucks overtake it. They hit the zombies at the front of the invading hordes and plow through them, clearing a path for the less heavyweight jeep. The drivers have to slow down, but they maintain a steady crawl. Those who fall beneath the trucks erupt seconds later in geysers of blood. There must be some sort of machine attached to the underbellies of the vehicles.
The Klanners inside the trucks pull in their associates who opened the gates, then slam the doors shut on the zombies, settling back to leave the hard work to the drivers.
“We’ve got to close the gate,” Jakob says. “Stop the stream of reviveds before it’s too late.”
I nod numbly, then study the distance between myself and the wall. I look at the trucks and jeep again and try to calculate how long it’s going to take them to clear the mob of zombies.
“Can you manage by yourself?” I ask.
Jakob squints at me. “You have somewhere else you’d rather be?”
“I can’t give up on the people in the trucks,” I groan. “I have to try to save them.”
“By yourself?” Jakob asks skeptically.
I nod glumly. “I know it’s crazy, but once they clear that wall the drivers will have an open road ahead of them. I don’t fancy my chances, but I’m the only hope they have. Even if I can’t stop both trucks, maybe I can force at least one of them to crash.”
Jakob shakes his head. “I don’t know if you’re incredibly brave or unbelievably stupid.”
“There’s no question about that,” I laugh sickly. “Stupid, for sure.”
“What about the one with the large eyes?” Jakob asks.
“I can’t worry about him now. All I can do is focus on the trucks, try to stop them and hope I can catch up with Owl Man later.”
Jakob smiles. “I should probably try to stop you, but who am I to stand in the way of a would-be hero? Good luck, B. If I don’t see you again, I just want you to know you were always a pain in the arse.”
“Eat me,” I retort with my own shaky smile.
Jakob sets off at top speed. I veer towards the wall and pump my legs as hard as I can. Some of the zombies lumber after me, thinking I’m one of the living, but I’ve a good start on them and they don’t cause me any concern.
This is madness. It would be tough enough if it was just me against all the Klanners in the trucks, but Owl Man has shown he can literally bend me to his will. All he has to do is tell me to freeze and I’ll be helpless to protect myself. I could try to take him by surprise and knock him out before he can work his voodoo magic, but then the trucks might get away while I’m dealing with him.
“Sod it,” I tell myself. “I’ll cross that chasm of hellfire when I come to it. First things first.”
I get to the wall and climb a rope ladder. One of the trucks is passing through the gate, the jeep and the other vehicle not far behind. I start running again, along the path that follows the top of the wall.
You’re not really going to do this, are you? the sensible part of me protests as a rough plan forms inside my head.
“You betcha, baby!” I cackle.
You’re nuts, I tell myself in disgust.
“I know you are,” I retort childishly.
Then I come to a platform above the gate and, as the second truck is grinding its way through the zombies packed tight into the space, I make a sharp turn and leap over the barbed wire that runs round the perimeter. I clear the wire, along with the end of the wall, and hurtle towards the roof of the leading truck.
Arms flailing, I hit the roof and bounce towards the edge. I was sure I’d slide off–my plan was to get up and chase the truck once I’d landed–but to my surprise I manage to dig in my finger bones and hold on. If the driver notices, he doesn’t pay any attention to me, picking up speed once he’s clear of the gate, powering ahead, leaving the zombies behind.
I’m tossed around like a rag doll, barely clinging on to the roof, legs hanging over the side. I try hauling myself up but I can’t. It’s taking everything I have just to hold on. I think about releasing my grip and following on foot, like I originally planned, but the vehicles are moving quickly now that they’re on the open road. I wouldn’t be able to keep up.
The mad ride lasts no more than four or five minutes, but it feels like hours, and my arms are screaming from the strain. Then we crest a hill and glide out of sight of New Kirkham and the zombies. We carry on for a few hundred meters, then the truck draws to a halt, tires squealing. Dust flies up into the air and I go flying forward, unable to stop myself.
I hit the ground hard and cry out as I roll across the road. My eyes shake in their sockets and the world becomes a white, hazy cloud.
I hear the truck trundling towards me—if the driver wasn’t aware of me before, he knows all about me now. I try backing away from it, but I can’t get to my feet, I’m still too shaken from the ride and the fall.
The truck comes closer. My eyes start to clear. I see that the front of the truck is above me. My legs are beneath the bumper. I spot loads of blades attached to the chassis. Seems I was wrong about a machine. They don’t need one. This is simpler and more effective.
The engine roars as the truck inches forward. The driver is toying with me, waiting for me to squirm and retreat. I won’t give him the satisfaction. Since it’s clearly a hopeless situation, I flip him the finger and hold my ground.
The engine roars again. The truck shudders forward a few centimeters. I brace myself for the end.
But then it stops. Not the noise–that’s louder than ever–but the driver holds the truck where it is, threatening annihilation but not following through. I don’t know why he’s waiting. Maybe he wants to check with Owl Man first.
Then, as I lie pinned beneath the truck, one thrust of the throttle away from death, the passenger door opens and somebody steps down.
“Fee-fi-fo-fith,” a man sings, “I smell the blood of Becky Smith. And it smells gooooooooood!”
I recognize the voice. I also recognize the sailor’s outfit as he steps into view. So, by the time he reveals his chubby, beaming face, I’ve recovered from my initial shock and am ready for him.
“Hello, Dan-Dan,” I sneer. “Have you come out to play?”
FOUR
Daniel Wood was a member of the Board, the fat cats on the HMS Belfast who held me prisoner and forced me to fight for their amusement. Billionaires, a prince, a racist politician. A powerful, nasty, self-centered lot, every one of them a true, rotten son or daughter of a bitch.
But Dan-Dan was the worst of them. Clearly psychotic, he kept a group of children on the cruiser to torment, torture and kill as he saw fit. He loved dressing up in ill-fitting suits that showed off his bulging, hairy belly, but the sailor’s outfit was his favorite. He wore that more than any other.
“Hello, dear child,” Dan-Dan beams. “What a joy to cross paths with you again. I was afraid I might not be able to make good on my parting promise. Do you remember that, my sweet little undead girl?”
“Sure. You wanted to pinch my cheek and kiss me goodnight.” I pucker up and let him see my fangs.
“Come on then, fat boy, I’m ready and waiting.”
“Isn’t she marvelous?” Dan-Dan says to one of the two armed guards who got out behind him. They’re packing menacing-looking rifles, ready to cut me down if I wriggle free and attack. To my surprise, the guard he addresses is familiar to me.
“Lovely to see you again, Coley,” I say sarcastically.
The guard with short hair and designer sunglasses flashes me an evil grin. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Coley used to be the partner of an ex-soldier called Barnes. They worked for the Board. Barnes had a change of heart and helped set me free. Coley wasn’t similarly inclined, so Barnes tied him up and left him somewhere. Looks like he went back and cut Coley’s bonds as planned after he’d freed me. Coley must have then found his way back to one of his old masters, and was now serving as he had before.
“So zombies didn’t get to you before Barnes untied you?” I ask sweetly.
Coley scowls. “Don’t mention that bastard’s name around me.”
“Such a shame when good friends fall out,” I chuckle viciously, then focus on Dan-Dan again. “Why don’t you ditch the guards and face me by yourself, fatso?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare,” he simpers. “I know how fast and vicious you are. I’m a delicate flower. I wouldn’t stand a chance if they left me to face you on my own.”
“You’re a coward,” I snarl.
“Not at all,” he protests. “I’m simply a pragmatist. What is money for, if not to surround yourself with people who can fight your battles for you? I’m many dreadful things, Becky Smith, but not a fighter. I know my limits.”
Dan-Dan shifts around, studying me from different angles. He frowns. “You look fresher than the last time I saw you.”
“The result of a dip in a Groove Tube, I imagine,” Owl Man says, appearing behind the fake sailor. Sakarias is at his heel. With its mouth closed, it looks like an ordinary, friendly sheepdog. I instinctively want to reach out and pat it.
“What’s a Groove Tube?” Dan-Dan asks.
“I will explain later,” Owl Man says. He stares at me sternly, the way some of my teachers used to when I failed to hand in homework on time. “You should not have followed us, Becky.”
“It’s B, numbnuts,” I growl. “At least get my name right if you’re gonna kill me.”
“I was never one for nicknames or abbreviations,” he says, then smiles. “Which makes your owlish name for me all the more ironic.”
“How do you know about that?” I ask.
“I know all sorts of things about you,” Owl Man says. “I have been keeping a close watch on you since we first met in your home all those months ago.”
“Then I was right about you following me,” I growl. “The others didn’t believe me, but when I saw that dog a few times, I knew it couldn’t be coincidence.”
“Indeed not,” Owl Man smiles.
“You know my Becky?” Dan-Dan is startled by the news.
“The pair of us go way back,” Owl Man murmurs.
“How extraordinary.” Dan-Dan scratches his stomach. “Will you miss her as much as I’m going to once we kill her?”
“I will indeed miss her if she is taken from us,” Owl Man nods. “But that will not be today. We must let her go.”
“What?” Dan-Dan barks, his smile vanishing.
“There will be another time for Becky Smith,” Owl Man says. “For now, please ask your driver to back up. I will make sure she does not assault you.”
Dan-Dan glowers at Owl Man. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting this savage minx waltz free. She killed my brother.”
“After you threw him to me,” I cheerfully remind him.
“Granted,” he says with a tilt of his head. “But a family grievance cannot be forgotten so readily. She must pay for what she did to Luca. Besides,” he adds with a giggle, “I’ve been so looking forward to this. I won’t have as much time to toy with her as I would have liked, but I can work swiftly when I have to.”
“I asked you to please instruct your driver to back up,” Owl Man says, and although he speaks politely, there’s no mistaking the menace in his tone. “You will be doing me a favor if you set her free.”
Dan-Dan takes stock of his eerie-looking ally. “I’m a man who knows the value of a favor,” he says carefully. “I wouldn’t reject you if I didn’t have good cause. But this girl is mine. I’ve claimed her.”
“She was mine before she was yours,” Owl Man demurs.
“Screw the both of you!” I roar. “I’m my own person.”
The two men ignore me. Their gazes are locked.
“If you cross me on this, I will be forced to withdraw my support for your various activities,” Dan-Dan says sweetly and, although I’ve no idea what they’re talking about, I can see that his words have a big impact on Owl Man. “I will urge Justin to cancel his backing for you too and, as you know, Justin and I agree on most major issues.”
Owl Man’s lips grow thin as he reacts poorly to the threat. “I am a dangerous enemy,” he whispers.
“I’m all too aware of that,” Dan-Dan nods. “I’m hoping that we can remain on friendly, mutually productive terms. But if alienating you is the cost of having my way in this matter, it’s a cost I’m prepared to pay. I want her.” A dark shadow flits across his face. “I need her.”
Owl Man sighs and strokes his dog’s ears. “Lack of self-control is a weakness, Daniel. You should strive to master your urges.”
“I control myself impeccably,” Dan-Dan sniffs. “I just don’t believe in not doing what I want. Life’s too short to live by other people’s rules. Coley understands what I mean, don’t you, Coley?”
“One hundred percent, my lord,” the guard growls.
“I must have the girl,” Dan-Dan continues. “For me, at this moment, nothing else matters. I could drop dead of a heart attack on our way back to London. If I do, I will die satisfied at having done all that I wanted while alive, not bitter because I let an opportunity pass.”
Owl Man smiles thinly. “You are a troubled soul, my friend.”
“Yes,” Dan-Dan says. “But I know how to make the troubles go away—by enjoying all of the freedoms which are rightfully mine.”
Owl Man considers the situation. He casts a worried look in my direction. I give him the finger and he tuts.
“The girl is important to me,” he tries one last time. “She matters to Mr. Dowling too. He will be unhappy if you harm her. This is not a wise move.”
“Look deep into my eyes,” Dan-Dan giggles. “If you find the slightest trace of wisdom in them, do let me know.”
Owl Man hesitates a moment longer, then hardens his expression. “So be it. We will deal with the fallout as best we can. But if you are going to kill her, do so quickly. We do not have time to stand around and play games.”
“Oh, there’s always time for games,” Dan-Dan purrs as he heads back to the driver’s cab. His guards keep their weapons trained on me. “Now, will I start with knives and a saw, or should I build up to–”
A figure drops from the roof of the truck. There’s a scuffling noise. Dan-Dan yelps. The guards whirl. Sakarias barks. Owl Man blinks.
Then Dan-Dan is dragged back into view by a massive teenager with short hair, small eyes and chubby cheeks. He has Dan-Dan in the mother of all headlocks and seems completely unfazed by the rifles that have been trained on him.
“Hey, Becky, I bet you never thought you’d be glad to see me,” says a wickedly grinning Rage.
FIVE
Rage ended up stranded outside the perimeter walls while the rest of us snuck into New Kirkham. I hadn’t thought about him since we’d parted company. I certainly hadn’t expected to come across him again like this.
“What the hell are you doing here, you great big ugly, beautiful beast?” I cry.
Rage grins. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Let me go!” Dan-Dan bellows, kicking out at his c
aptor. “Shoot him!” he screams at the guards.
“Careful, big guy,” Rage laughs. “One nick from me and you’re history.”
Dan-Dan stops struggling. “You’re a zombie?” he moans.
“A revitalized,” Rage corrects him. “That’s why your guys haven’t opened fire. If a few drops of my blood spatter you, you’ll be munching brains for dessert tonight.”
“Coley?” Dan-Dan croaks. “Is he telling the truth?”
“Yes,” Coley says, and I can see that he’s seething. He never did like it when things didn’t go his way.
“Well, that’s a real kick in the teeth,” Dan-Dan huffs. “How did you sneak up on us like that, you clever boy?”
Rage frowns. “You don’t sound too petrified.”
“I accept the fact that I’ll have to die one day, but I doubt it will be today,” Dan-Dan says chirpily. “It would be different if we were alone, but you know that if you infect me, my guards will execute you on the spot. Your girlfriend too.”
“Girlfriend?” Rage snorts. “You’re way off the mark.”
“Then why risk so much to save her?” Dan-Dan asks.
“Yeah,” I say, shuffling out from under the truck. “What gives? Where did you pop out of ? And why put your life on the line? You don’t care about me.”
Rage pretends to look sorrowful. “Oh, the ingratitude. Didn’t I come to your rescue on the Belfast too?”
“That was different. You tagged along because the odds were in our favor and you wanted to get in on the action.”
Rage laughs. “I can’t deny it. Although, in your position, I wouldn’t be so quick to reveal all that to this lot. We should be putting on a show of unity, let them think we believe in that all-for-one crap.”
I curse beneath my breath. The most annoying thing about Rage is that he’s right so much of the time. “Just tell me how you got here,” I snarl.
He shrugs. “It’s hardly an epic story. I waited outside for the rest of you. I heard all the commotion and was pissed I couldn’t be involved. Then I saw the trucks leaving and spotted you on top of one. I followed, keeping back so that I couldn’t be seen. Well, obviously I could have been seen, but I figured their attention would be focused on the zombie clinging to the roof. I slipped up behind the trucks while Sinbad here was chatting with you. Waited for my moment. And here I am.”