Secret Histories 10: Dr. DOA (37 page)

“So what do you want to do?” said Molly. “Keep going?”

I looked up and down the empty tunnel again. “Maybe we’d do better to set up a secure position, inside heavy-duty protections, and let her come to us. Meet her from a position of strength.”

“She’s the Fury,” said Molly. “Powerful, and crazy. A bad combination. Do we really want to give her the advantage of surprise as well?”

“Let’s keep going,” I said.

*   *   *

The tunnels seemed to stretch away ahead forever. My feet ached from slamming endlessly against the stone floor, and my back ached from always having to bend forward so I could avoid banging my head on the low roof. Worrying creaking and groaning came from every side, as though the tunnel supports were seriously considering throwing up their hands and saying,
To hell with it.
Stumbling around in the dark, in pursuit of a crazy woman endowed with godlike abilities, was starting to seem like an increasingly bad idea. There were definite limits on how far I was prepared to go for someone else’s friend.

And then we both stopped, and crouched down to examine fresh footprints in the dust on the floor. Too big to be Angelica’s, they just started, walked away, and then stopped. As though whoever made them could appear and disappear at will. We straightened up again, and looked carefully around us. Molly brightened her floating light to an almost painful intensity, but it still couldn’t illuminate the whole length of the tunnel. There was always a darkness where the light couldn’t go.

And I was hearing things again, without needing the extra boost from my mask. Things were moving all around us. Growing louder, and more distinct, the deeper we went. As though they didn’t feel the need to stay hidden any longer. Sounds from ahead and behind, from tunnels on the far side of the stone walls, from above and below. Definitely not human sounds. I glanced at Molly, to make sure she was hearing them too, but all of her attention was fixed on the way ahead.

“There’s something in this tunnel with us,” she said quietly. “I can’t see it, but I can feel it.”

I actually felt a little relieved, to have it confirmed I wasn’t just hearing things. I made sure my voice was calm and steady when I answered her.

“Any idea what it might be?”

“There were always things down here with us,” Molly said reluctantly. “We never tried to find out what, working on the principle that if we didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother us.”

“You must have some idea,” I said.

“You dig deep enough,” said Molly, “you can find some really old things, sleeping in the earth.”

“If it turns out to be a Balrog,” I said, “I shall be departing at speed. Try to keep up.”

“That’s what I’m Tolkien about,” said Molly.

We laughed briefly together, and then stopped. There was always the chance something might hear us, and come to see what was
making all the noise. Some things you really don’t want to disturb, even if you are a Drood and Molly Metcalf.

“It could be something Angelica’s called up,” said Molly.

“Or something that’s been here all along,” I said. “What if we’ve just wandered into something’s living room?”

“Do you want to turn back?” said Molly.

“Do you?”

“Definitely considering it,” said Molly. “But . . . Angelica was my friend. At a time when I really didn’t have many.”

“Then we keep going,” I said.

“After you,” said Molly.

“Ladies first,” I said generously.

*   *   *

We didn’t get far before the tunnel floor slanted sharply down, plunging even deeper into the earth. The air was getting hard to breathe, and so cold, that both of us were shaking and shuddering. Molly called up an envelope of warm fresh air for us to move in, but almost immediately something really big started moving in a nearby tunnel. Its tread was heavy enough to shake the floor under our feet. Nearby tunnel supports made loud complaining noises, and long streams of dust fell from the ceiling.

“Lose the heat,” I said quietly. “It’s attracting attention.”

The whole tunnel trembled as painfully loud, utterly inhuman sounds burst out of the tunnel ahead. The sound of something hunting that had just caught a scent. The horrible noise went on and on, long after living lungs should have been incapable of sustaining it. And then it just stopped, leaving behind a silence that was somehow worse. Something was listening, to see what we would do.

Molly dismissed the heat and air envelope, and the cold slammed down hard again, hitting me like a blow. Dust in the air scrabbled around inside my throat, but I wouldn’t let myself cough. The ominous quiet
continued. Molly and I stood close together, not moving. She pulled her magical light back into her hand, so it only just covered the two of us. The dark in the tunnel surged forward, in front and behind, like a predator sensing a weakness. Molly glanced at me and then shut down the light completely. Rather than risk having it draw something to us. The darkness was close, almost suffocating. I reached out in the dark, and Molly’s hand clasped down tightly on mine. The silence went on and on, and after a while, Molly cautiously raised her light again.

“Extend the light ahead of us, Molly,” I said quietly. “Slowly and carefully.”

She nodded quickly, and the light inched forward, a cool, characterless glow that illuminated every inch of the old tunnel, not allowing even the smallest shadow for something to hide in. The light moved on and on, revealing nothing . . . and then stopped abruptly.

“Sorry,” said Molly. “That’s as far as I go. I’m burning through my magical energies a lot quicker than I expected. And we really don’t want to still be here when the light goes out.”

“Dim the light back to just us,” I said.

She nodded, and the light returned in a series of quick jumps. The darkness ate up the tunnel again, almost hungrily.

“Are there any more energies stored in the vampire jewel?” I said.

“A few,” said Molly. “For real emergencies. I don’t think this qualifies, just yet. So, do we go on?”

“We go on,” I said.

And then Molly gestured urgently, to indicate she’d heard something up ahead. We both stood very still, listening hard, and I heard footsteps. Slow, cautious, entirely human. I murmured in Molly’s ear.

“Angelica?”

“Could be,” Molly said just as quietly. “It’s about bloody time. How do you want to handle this?”

“Talk to her. Reason with her. Hope we don’t have to kill her.”

“Works for me,” said Molly. And then she frowned. “We’re going to have to split up, Eddie.”

“What?”

“Will you hush!”

“You want to go off on your own, without me?” I said.

“This might not be Angelica,” Molly said patiently. “We don’t know who else might be down here. We need to come at whoever this is from two different directions, cut them off and trap them between us, with no way out.”

“Can you maintain a light around me while you’re not here?” I said.

“No.”

“I’m really not happy about this.”

“Oh come on!” said Molly. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”

“Down here?” I said. “Yes! With good reason! There really are bad things in the dark, just waiting for a chance to creep up on me!”

“I won’t be far,” Molly said soothingly.

“I am really not a happy bunny,” I growled. “But, for the purposes of this very cunning trap of yours, I am prepared to be a big brave Drood, and stand alone in the dark as bait in your trap. So you can get behind our prey and chase it to me. But you’d better not be long.”

“Got it,” said Molly.

She kissed me briefly on the forehead, and set off into the dark. Taking the light with her. The gloom closed in around me, like a great blanket intent on suffocating the life out of me. I armoured up and felt a bit better. I’d fought gods and monsters in my armour, and made them cry like babies. And I was just in the mood to do it again. Bring on your monstrosities from the lower depths, and I would make them rue the day they were spawned.

After a while, I heard footsteps coming my way. Hushed, cautious, very human footsteps. And with them, a flicker of light. I turned on my infrared and braced myself, ready to face the Fury again. But when a
glowing crimson figure appeared, it was quite definitely male. Another shape, which I recognised as Molly, moved behind it. She had trapped someone between us, in a tunnel with no side exits. The infrared image drew closer, like a crimson ghost stumbling through the dark. I waited till he was almost upon me, and then made my armour glow fiercely. Hitting him right in the face, like a spotlight. Revealing just an old man, in ragged clothes. He cried out and threw up an arm to shield his face. He turned to run and then stopped as he found Molly right behind him, blocking his way.

He stood frozen in place for a long moment, and then turned reluctantly back to face me. He had unhealthily pale features, under dirty grey hair. His mouth trembled, and his eyes darted back and forth, looking for a way out that wasn’t there. Molly raised her glowing hand and filled the tunnel with light. I armoured down, but the old man still looked just as scared. Molly took one look at the old man’s face and recoiled with something like shock.

“Ben?” she said. “Is that you? What the hell are you doing down here, after all these years?”

He looked at her, his face blank. His clothes were filthy dirty, and he wasn’t in much better shape. His hands were shaking, and not from the cold. His face was heavily lined, and his eyes were worryingly vague, but they slowly came alive as he looked at Molly. He seemed, finally, to know her.

“Molly Metcalf . . .”

“Yes, Ben. It’s me. You remember me . . .”

“Care to introduce us?” I said. “Who, exactly, have we caught? And could we perhaps throw him back, because up close, the smell of him is bringing tears to my eyes.”

“This is Ben Luger,” said Molly. “He used to be part of my old gang.” She patted the old man on the arm, as though comforting a nervous dog. “Back in the day, they called him the Ghostly Gunman.”

I studied the old man with new interest. I’d heard that name
before; knew some of his legend. But I still nodded for Molly to tell the tale, because her voice seemed to calm the old man.

“One of the best-paid political assassins in the business,” said Molly. “Ben could teleport into anywhere, drop his target, and never be caught by even the best security. Until finally, inevitably, he was. You never should have gone after Hadleigh Oblivion, Ben. You should have known the Detective Inspectre was way out of your league.”

Ben nodded slowly. He’d seemed to come back to himself as he heard Molly recount his life. When he spoke, his voice was harsh and strained, as though he hadn’t used it for some time.

“I knew that, Molly. Of course I knew that. But the money was just so good, so tempting. I could have retired on it. I never stood a chance. Hadleigh Oblivion scared the crap out of me . . . and I ran. Ran for my life, and my sanity. And he saw to it that everybody knew. So much for my fearsome reputation . . .

“I ran away from everyone I knew, and from all the people who were suddenly feeling brave enough to come after me, now they didn’t have to be scared of my reputation. I ran back to the only place I’d ever felt safe. The Deep Down Pit. I’ve been here ever since. Hiding. For years . . . I’m not even sure how many. Time seems to pass differently, down here in the dark. When you’re on your own . . .”

His face had gone vague again, as though he were musing, remembering. I moved in beside Molly, still careful to give the old derelict plenty of room.

“This old man was part of your group?”

“He’s not old, Eddie,” Molly said tiredly. “He’s the same age as me. Look at what being down here has done to him!”

“Going up against Hadleigh Oblivion probably took its toll as well,” I said.

“Ben?” Molly said carefully. “What have you been doing all these years?”

His face snapped back into focus. “Thinking. Repenting. Oblivion
opened my eyes, you know. Showed me how wrong I’d been. All the people I killed, all the suffering I caused . . . He made me feel every bit of it. He made me see the truth of my life, and it was a hard lesson. I ran away from the world, and myself, because I didn’t want to be able to hurt people any more. I’ve kept myself busy, exploring the Deep Down Pit and mapping it. There’s far more here than we ever suspected, Molly! I shut down all the booby traps so I could move around. And so no one could be hurt by them.”

“What is it that lives down here?” I said. “We’ve been hearing all kinds of things . . .”

“We give each other plenty of room,” said Ben, nodding happily. “And they discourage anyone from coming after me.”

“We found food stores in the arrival room,” said Molly.

“Oh yes,” said Ben. “I still have a few friends. They don’t visit; I wouldn’t want them to. But they teleport in fresh supplies, now and again. When they remember. The rest of the time, I make do.”

I didn’t like to think about exactly what Ben Luger might find to eat and drink, in the dark, when he had to.

A new fear appeared in Ben’s face. He looked ready to bolt or ready to fight us if we tried to stop him.

“Have you come to take me back, to stand trial for all the terrible things I did?”

“We’re not here for you, Ben,” Molly said gently.

“It’s been so many years,” I said, “I doubt anyone’s still looking for you. Your legend survives, but not much else. You’ve imprisoned yourself down here for so long, I think you’ve done your time. We could take you with us when we go, if you want. My family could set up a new identity for you so you could start a new life . . .”

But he was already backing away from me, shaking his head, horrified at the thought of having to leave the safety of the Deep Down Pit. And perhaps even more afraid of a world he would no longer recognise or understand. He pushed past Molly and ran for his life, disappearing
back into the comforting dark. Molly didn’t try to stop him, so I didn’t either.

“It’s a hard life, being a supernatural terrorist,” Molly said finally. “It breaks as many as it makes.”

“And no man runs faster than those pursued by their own demons,” I said.