Dan and the Dead (9 page)

Like a reluctant sea monster, Bagsy's naff stretched limo emerges from the waves, rising up the slope at about two miles an hour, seawater pouring out in great torrents, the whole chassis juddering.

The radio comes on. It's Justin Bieber.

‘Cool,' says Ems.

I say something my mother would be ashamed of as I switch on the headlights, full beam.

Up ahead, Bagport and Ringpull are staring down at me in astonishment, raising their arms against the sudden dazzle. But that's not all they're raising. In a moment they've both reached into their coats and pulled out pistols. I duck as the first bullet punches through the windscreen, showering me with small cubes of glass.

‘They are firing at us!' yells Si.

‘Yeah, I know!' I shout back, as another bullet explodes a computer monitor on the seat behind me. ‘Shut up and let me drive!'

The car begins to pick up speed, and the men up front empty their weapons in a burst of sustained gunfire, causing the car to judder with impacts. My head's right down, but my foot is too, and now we're rushing up the slope like a lifeboat going the wrong way. There's an almighty CRASH as we smack into the small car at the top of the slope, shoving it to one side. With the engine screaming at me to change gear, we shoot out onto the dockside, and I sit up just in time to steer us away from a crane. There's one last shot fired from behind and the fluffy dice vanish in a puff of gold polyester.

I let out a laugh of triumph, slip her into fourth, and race away into the night.

It's not quite time to celebrate though. As I rush past astonished dock workers and hurl the limo between lorries and into the traffic beyond, I spot two headlights swerving into the road behind me. Somehow I just know it's Bagport and Ringpull, and I realise they'll be so desperate to catch me that there'll be no more fancy stuff with ropes. I'm driving for my life.

‘Where're we going?' asks the ghost of Ems.

‘I think it's time to do what Mrs Vicar said,' I get out through gritted teeth, as we narrowly overtake an elderly driver in a hat. ‘We've got to go to the police.'

‘Do you think you can convince them of Bagport's guilt?' says Si.

‘Are you kidding me? With all this computer stuff in the car, we're carrying enough to get Bagport banged up for years. No wonder he's not even bothering to catch that ferry to Holland. He'll have nowhere to run if we can get all this to the cops.'

I glance into the remains of the rear-view mirror, and see that the car pursuing me has gained and is just a few vehicles back, swerving as it looks for a way through the traffic.

‘But he won't let you go,' says Ems, looking back too. ‘You don't know what he's like. He'll kill you, run you off the road.'

As if to emphasise this, there's a shot and a bullet slams into the back of the car.

‘You must perform my trick before then,' says Lugubrian, whose body is sitting in the back with its arms folded while his head rolls around on the dash. ‘You are no good to me dead, boy. Let him kill you afterwards.'

‘If you can't say anything helpful, just can it!' I shout. ‘I'm not letting him get me, okay?'

But the truth is, it's not looking good and I haven't got a clue where I'm going. I can drive, thanks to a payment from an old client, but that payment didn't come with sat nav, did it? I'm racing on blind. All I can do is keep following signs for London and hope the police pull Bagsy over for insane driving whilst in charge of a gun or something.

I press the accelerator down, even though it sounds like a bullet has got into the engine.

We drive on and on, and it seems like ages before the lights of the London suburbs are flashing past. But by now I'm daring to hope again because, finally, the traffic police have cottoned on to the desperate race I'm running. There are sirens now, and I can see blue lights behind us, but every time I slow down, Bagport gains on us and takes another potshot. All I can do is hurtle on and hope some more.

Suddenly, on a road sign, I spot somewhere I know – a place near where I live – and I skid sharply into the exit, bouncing off a crash barrier with a torrent of sparks. Bagport's taken by surprise by this and almost misses the exit.

Almost.

At the last minute he swerves and jumps the barrier – actually jumps it! – and crashes down on the road right behind us.

‘Crapsticks!'

By now there's a crowd of blue lights behind us. Why don't they drive faster?

I mount the pavement and break through a painted fence, storming into a car park. Yeah, I know that sounds nuts, but I'm starting to recognize the streets and I know I can get through here, and by now all I can think of is getting home. Bagport's right behind me, but his car takes a hammering from the wooden debris that flies round the limo. Both our cars must look a right state as we bounce over the pavement into the street beyond.

‘Daniel, why is there a red lamp twinkling?' says Si in his old-fashioned way, and he points at the dashboard. I haven't once looked at the fuel gauge, but I'm staring at it now. It's right down on empty.

‘Oh, frack, we're almost out of petrol!'

‘The tank's been hit,' says Ems, pocking her head out the window. ‘There's been petrol pouring out the back for ages.'

‘What! Why didn't you tell me?'

‘I thought it was seawater. Don't shout at me.'

‘This is mad!' I shout anyway, and it is. We're only five minutes away from home and Mum and Dad and whatever protection I'll find there until the police breeze up, but now I seriously doubt we'll get even that far.

Just then, Bagport's car catches up and I see both him and Ringpull. Their eyes dance with furious delight as they get abreast of us, and then they slam into our side.

The limo swerves, and I fight to correct it, but I'm on the other side of the road now and there's a lorry.

‘Hold on!' I shout, even though there's really no need for ghosts to hold on, is there? I turn the wheel hard into the pavement and run the limo straight into a shoe shop, ducking down as the window glass sprays through the car. I look up and get smacked in the gob by a boot, but in the mirror I spot a whole display's worth of ladies' shoes pile through Bagsy's windscreen, stiletto heels and all.

‘A creditable hit!' cries Si, as Bagsy's car appears to lose control.

But I've got no time to cheer along. I fight with the wheel again and bring the limo into a straight line, and thank Death there's a second shop window at the back, facing onto the next street. With a crash like a
thunderclap, we erupt through it and back out into the night.

I skid round onto the road, and the engine gives a cough. The tank must be nearly dry.

I look behind and I can hear sirens everywhere, even the thrum-thrum of a helicopter, but there's no police to be seen. As I watch, I see Bagport's car trundle out of the ruin of the shoe shop and turn into the road behind us.

But I've noticed something else. We're not going to make it home, that's for sure, but I know the street we're in really well. It's a street I see five days a week, because at the end of it is my school.

And tonight's the night of the school show, remember? Crowds. I'll be safe there until the police catch us up.

I press the accelerator to the floor, but even as we surge forward there's a falling off of power and the engine coughs again.

‘Come on!'

I jab my foot up and down, and I see the entrance to my school up ahead, but just then Bagport and Ringpull get abreast of me again, and Bagport points his pistol.

How much freakin' ammo have they got?!

I set the wheel for the school gate – there's no time to turn into it properly – and drop below the dashboard. Bagsy fires two shots. The front tire explodes and we go into a spin. I brace myself and shout ‘Crapsticks!' as we pile smack bang into the brick gateposts of my school with a sound like the end of the world.

When I sit up, my head is ringing. There's light dancing around me and smoke and heat.

‘Daniel!' says Si. ‘Daniel, get out! The car is ablaze.'

It's true. But with petrol pouring through the back of the car all that time, this shouldn't be suprising. I shake the confusion out of my head, reset my purple specs, and try the door.

Locked.

I shuffle over to the passenger seat and the buckled door falls open, tumbling me out onto the tarmac of the school car park. I look about as I lie on the ground and see Bagport's small car has smashed into the chain link fence, and wedged tightly, half way through. As I watch, I see movement in the front seat and Bagsy's door opens.

‘Gargh!' he shouts, and before I can get to my feet, he raises his pistol at me and pulls the trigger.

Click!

‘Get up and run!' Ems and Si shout exactly the same thing and I don't need to be told twice. I'm on my feet, clutching Gubie's apparatus with his skull rattling around inside, and I stagger to the school. Behind me police cars are screeching up to the school gate, but the limo, which is blazing furiously as the computers catch alight, is wedged between the gateposts and blocking the way.

So much for all that evidence.

I stumble up to the school door and heave it open. The lights are on. The door to the assembly hall is at the far end and I see it's packed for the school show, and hear the tortured wail of a lone violin from within.

Standing in front of the door is the leering ghost of Silas Lugubrian.

‘You were never really going to avoid this moment, you do realize that, don't you, boy?'

The violin misses a high note, and makes a sound like scraping ribcages.

‘That's what I like most about you, Gubie,' I say, running towards him, clutching his apparatus. ‘Your cheery, smiley ways.'

He steps to one side and bows to the door.

‘Enter! Your destiny and my fortune await!'

‘Nah,' I say, as at the last minute I swerve to a door on the left, just as Bagport and Ringpull burst into the corridor behind me. Well, you don't think I'm actually going to do his stupid magic trick, do you?

‘No!' shouts Lugubrian. ‘Curse you, boy, if you go against your word! Curse you!'

‘Relax,' I shout behind me as I push into the dark room beyond the door. ‘I said I'd take on your case, and I will.' I'm just going to find some other way to show off his trick without actually putting my own head in it, that's all.

But there's no time for this now, I've got to hide until the police can get Bagport.

I skid to a halt at the end of the room, which is full of sports equipment, and swing behind a cupboard. Ems and Si swoop into the room and join me.

The door bursts open and the light goes on. I glance round and see Bagport, his golden hair wild and his shiny suit crumpled. He looks like a boil-in-the-bag Turkey Twizzler. Beside him the low brow of Ringpull turns here and there, searching.

Why aren't the police here yet?

‘Get out here, kid!' shrieks Bagport. They both snatch up cricket bats from a box beside them. With the police surrounding the building it looks like all they have to look forward to now is smashing me into a pulp while they still can.

I go really still, but something a bit odd happens. Gubie's skull shifts in the cage, making a rattling sound, and Bagsy hears it. You'd almost think the magician did it deliberately.

‘Aaargh!' Bagport bellows as he runs at me, cricket bat raised. I shoot out of my hiding place just as the bat thwacks against the cupboard, and I run. I try to get back out the door I came in, but Ringpull throws himself across it.

‘This way!' calls Si, pointing to a second door at the back of the room. I know that this door leads to the backstage area of the school hall, but I can't be choosy any more. I fling a handful of plastic sports-day hoops at Ringpull, duck under Bagsy's
bat as it slices through the air, and throw myself at the door.