Book 2 - Daemons Are Forever (56 page)

And then suddenly, as though some unheard cry had been given, the scavengers retreated. One moment they were attacking with all their silent fury, and the next they were scrabbling away across the dried-up plain, falling back like a retreating tide. Giles flicked drops of black blood off his long blade, and then leaned on it. He looked around him, smiling at the piled-up bodies littered around us, and then nodded briefly, as though contemplating a good day’s work. Molly and I leaned on each other, breathing hard.

“They’ll be back,” Subway Sue said from behind us. I turned and glared at her.

“We have to get out of here. There must be a way. Find it!”

“Yes,” Sue said slowly. “I have been communing with this place. It speaks to me. One of us must make a stand here, so the others can get to the light.”

“What?” said Molly. “Where did that come from?”

Subway Sue looked at her tiredly. “I know the ways of hidden paths. I can see the rules here, written into the dying world. If we all stay, we all die. One of us must make a stand, sacrifice themselves for the sake of the others. So they can go.”

“We should draw lots,” said Giles.

“No,” Sue said immediately. “It has to be a willing sacrifice. A positive act, set against the entropy of this place. It’s not how far you walk, here. You could walk all the days of your life, and never reach the light. But you can draw it to you by a noble act. So which of us is ready to die, so the others can live?”

“There has to be another way,” said Molly. “We don’t abandon our own people. Tell them, Eddie!”

“I’ll stay,” I said.

“What?” Molly looked at me numbly.

“I’ll stay,” I said. “This was my mission, my idea. My responsibility.”

“No it isn’t!” Molly glared round at the others. “Tell him!”

“You can’t stay, Edwin,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms calmly. “The family needs you to take down Truman and destroy the tower. You’re the man, these days. So I’ll stay. I said anything for the family, and the world, and I meant it. You’re all going to be needed, where you’re going. You’re special. I’m not.”

“Sarjeant,” I said, but he cut me off with a look.

“Eddie, I want this. I want what I do to matter, for once. To be the hero, not just the one who trains them and sends them out. I always dreamed of a last stand like this, defying impossible odds for a noble cause. To save the family, and the world. So, get them out of here, Eddie. Take down Truman and the tower. Make the family proud.”

He walked off without waiting for an answer, heading straight for the nearest group of scavengers. They watched him coming from their craters and crevices, and stirred uneasily. I gathered up the others and we left him behind as we headed for the shining pillar of light, already speeding towards us. I heard the scavengers scrabbling up out of their hiding places behind us, but I didn’t look back. The pillar of light swept through the surrounding scavengers, summoned by the price of a willing sacrifice. It flared up before us, promising hope and life and a way out. But not for the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Molly and Subway Sue plunged forward into the brilliant light and disappeared, followed by Giles and Mr. Stab. And only I paused to look back and see the Sarjeant standing firm against a living tide of flailing, clawing scavengers. He cut savagely about him, throwing bodies to every side with the force of his blows. He stood firm right up to the moment when they swarmed all over him and dragged him down, and he disappeared from sight. He never cried out once. And only then did I step into the light.

And that was how Cyril Drood died, fighting his enemies to the end, dying as a Drood should. For the family. And the whole, damned, uncaring world.

When the light died away, I was back in my own world. It was night, but the moon was bright and full, and the sky was packed full of stars that might last for millennia yet. My wounds were healed, and I felt strong again. The air was bracingly cool, rich with scents, a pleasure to breath. I stamped my feet on the dewy grass, delighting in its solid presence beneath me. The whole night felt alive, and so did I.

I looked around, and realised for the first time that the others weren’t even looking at me. They were gathered around a body lying on the ground. I hurried over to them. Molly was kneeling on the grass beside Subway Sue, who was dead. No mark on her; the scavengers didn’t get her. But dead, just the same. Molly looked up at me.

“Sue didn’t make it,” she said dully. “Too much strain, too much magic; she never was strong.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not your fault,” said Molly. “She volunteered.” She rose awkwardly to her feet. “We’ll come back for you, Sue. Later. We have work to do.”

“She’ll be fine here,” I said, because you have to say something.

Molly looked at me sharply. “Sue was my friend. She wasn’t always like this. You never saw her in her prime, rich and glamorous and a name to be reckoned with.”

“I know,” I said.

“She was my friend,” said Molly. “She only got involved in this because I asked her to.”

“Yes,” I said. “Lot of that going around.”

“The Sarjeant was a good man,” said Giles Deathstalker. “He knew his duty, and he stood his ground.”

“Of course,” I said. “He was a Drood.”

I looked around again. We were in a great grassy field looking out over Stonehenge, about half a mile away. There was no sign of Harry or Roger, or any of Truman’s Accelerated Men.

“We have arrived only a moment after we departed,” said Giles.

“How can you tell?” said Molly. “Even I can’t read the night sky that accurately.”

“I can tell because the clock implanted in my head just started working again,” said Giles.

“Smart arse,” said Molly. She looked at me. “I wonder how Jacob and Jay are getting on?”

“I doubt we’ll ever know,” I said. “It was one hell of a long shot. Either way, we can’t depend on them to save the day; we’re here, so it’s up to us.”

“There’s an entrance to an underground bunker, not far away,” Mr. Stab announced suddenly. He pointed confidently out into the gloom. He realised we were all staring at him and smiled briefly. “I have many abilities,” he said calmly. “I just don’t choose to display them unnecessarily. Shall we go?”

“By all means,” I said. “Lead the way.”

He nodded and strode off across the great open field, and we all followed. I was quite happy to have him lead. With the Sarjeant gone, I didn’t want Mr. Stab behind me. He might be a part of this mission, but I was never going to trust him. Not after Penny. He stopped abruptly, staring down at a part of the field that appeared no different than any other. And then he stamped twice, hard, and a large section of grass lifted slowly upwards as he stepped back, revealing a dark tunnel leading down. Mr. Stab started forward, but I stopped him and took back the lead, while giving Molly a significant look. If this really was a way into Truman’s bunker, I didn’t want Mr. Stab up front, making decisions for the rest of us. Molly could keep an eye on him.

Electric lights came on as we entered the tunnel, triggered by some hidden sensor. The walls were curving beaten steel, gleaming dully. Truman had a thing about steel. Personally, I figured he’d just seen too many James Bond movies. But then, so had I. We walked down the steel corridor, which gave way to another, equally stark and bare and unadorned. Our feet clattered loudly on the grilled floor, and I half expected armed guards to appear at any moment, but no one came to investigate. No alarms, no raised voices… nothing. The whole place was unnaturally quiet. Molly pushed in beside me, glaring about her, so close I could feel the tension in her too.

“This isn’t right,” she said quietly. “Truman’s last base was crawling with people. Where is everyone?”

“Good question,” I said. “Bear in mind, this isn’t just a Manifest Destiny base; it’s also a Loathly Ones nest.”

She didn’t look at me. She had to know what I was thinking. There was a Loathly One inside her, growing and developing. Who knew what it might do, now it was among its own kind at last.

I hoped we’d come across some armed guards soon. I really felt like taking out my frustrations on a whole bunch of poor helpless armed guards.

But as we rounded the last steel corner, and glimpsed at last the first open space of the bunker, a huge metal slab slammed down from the ceiling, shutting off the corridor and blocking our way with two tons of solid steel. It hit the floor with a hell of a bang, so loud I actually winced, but still no alarms sounded, and still there was no clamour of raised voices demanding to know what the hell was going on. Where had everyone gone? What was Truman doing down here?

I subvocalised my activating Words, and then punched the air with joy as the golden armour flowed smoothly over me. It was good to have it back. Good to feel fast and strong and fully alive again. I hit the steel slab, putting all my armoured strength into it. My golden fist sank a good three inches into the steel, but that was all. I had to jerk my hand back out, an inch at a time. I crouched down and slammed both hands into the bottom edge of the slab, forcing my golden fingers deep into the metal, and then strained with all my strength to lift the massive slab. It shook and groaned but hardly raised an inch off the floor. I just didn’t have the leverage. My golden fingers slipped slowly through the solid steel like thick mud, unable to find a purchase. I pulled my hands out and stepped back to glare at the slab, baffled and frustrated.

“I do have an energy gun,” Giles Deathstalker said diffidently.

“No,” I said immediately. “There’s no telling what kind of defences or booby traps Truman might have set up here. Let’s not make things worse than they already are.”

Molly sniffed and elbowed me aside. “Men,” she said scathingly. “If you can’t hit it or shoot it, you’re lost for an alternative.”

She stabbed an imperious finger at the steel slab, said two very old and potent Words of Power, and the slab actually shook all over before reluctantly rising back up into its slot in the ceiling. Molly smiled condescendingly back at me and Giles, no doubt ready to say something extremely cutting, and that was when the machine guns opened up. Giles grabbed Molly and threw her to the floor, covering her body with his own, ignoring her startled curses. I moved quickly to block the way, shielding everyone with my armoured form. Bullets sprayed the corridor, but my armour absorbed everything that hit it. I didn’t even feel the impact. I strode slowly forward into the hail of bullets, and almost immediately realised there weren’t any guards. Just two automated machine guns, set to cover the end of the corridor with suppressing fire, swivelling slowly back and forth on their gimbals. It looked like they were almost out of bullets, but I was in the mood to hit something, so I ripped them both off their supports and crumpled them in my golden hands. They both made satisfying squealing noises, and I threw them aside. A blessed silence fell across the corridor, apart from Molly cussing out Giles Deathstalker as he tried to help her to her feet.

“I can protect myself, thank you very much,” she snarled. “I do not need to be slammed into the floor by an overanxious, overmuscled drama queen!”

“Fine by me,” said Giles. “I’ll just leave you to die, next time.”

“I should,” I said. “It’s less trouble, in the long run.”

“I’m fine, by the way,” said Mr. Stab. “Never doubted it,” I said, not looking around. We made our way slowly and cautiously through the guts of Truman’s underground base. Everything was a mess: furniture overturned, papers scattered, doors left open to secure areas. There were no people anywhere. Just empty rooms and abandoned corridors. Half the lights weren’t working, and strange shadows loomed up everywhere. As we got deeper in, we found workstations where computers and other technology had been ripped apart and gutted. Great rents began appearing in the steel walls, long and jagged as though made by claws, with wiring and cables hanging out like entrails from open wounds. And the only sounds we heard in the whole base were the ones we brought with us.

Finally, as we neared the centre of operations, we started finding bodies piled up in careless heaps, as though they’d just been dragged there and dumped, out of the way. The were signs of struggle now, to show they hadn’t gone quietly to their deaths. Bullet holes in the walls, scorch marks from grenades, the remains of improvised barricades. They’d put up a fight, only to end up like their computers, torn apart, gutted; harvested. Broken open for their parts. Whole organs were missing, and hands, and eyes. Blood and discarded offal lay all around, still steaming and stinking on the cool, still air.

Mr. Stab checked the bodies for details. No one else wanted to get close enough.

“They did this to complete their tower,” I said, because someone had to put it into words. “Technology and…organic components, to finish the job. Because they were in a hurry. Because they knew we were coming.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Molly said immediately. “None of this is your fault. Manifest Destiny brought this on itself by allying with the Loathly Ones. Come on, let’s find Truman.”

“How do you know he’s still alive?” said Giles.

“Because rats like him always find a hole to hide in,” said Molly.

It didn’t take long to track him down. We just followed the signs on the walls to his private office, and sure enough there were more dead men piled up outside the locked and no doubt barricaded door. A green light showed above the door, indicating that the leader was IN. And a single security camera swivelled back and forth, looking us over with its little red light. I pounded on the door with my fist.

“You know who this is, Truman. Surprisingly enough, I’m not here to kill you. In fact, I’m probably your best chance of getting out of this mess alive. Open up, so we can talk about the Loathly Ones.”

“Go away!” screamed a voice from inside, shrill and cracked. “You can’t fool me! You’re not people! Not anymore!”

“This is Edwin Drood, Truman. Now let me in, or I’ll rip the door clean off its hinges.”

There was a long pause, followed by something that might have been a chuckle. “A Drood has come to save me. That it should come to this…”