by Derek Landy
They stopped outside a door on the second floor, marked 24.
“This is where I keep the Remnants,” Shudder said. “They’ve been here for over a hundred years and they’ve never managed to escape. This door hasn’t been opened in a century and it won’t be opened for a century more. They’re not going anywhere.”
Skulduggery took off his hat and brushed imaginary lint from the brim. “These are some very resourceful people we’re talking about, Anton.”
“In that case they will try and they will fail. I would offer you the room across the hall, to make sure nobody gets in, but I am fully booked and expecting another guest at any time.”
“If it’s all the same to you though, we’ll stick around for a few hours.”
“By all means.”
Shudder led them back down and into the reception area, where they found Billy-Ray Sanguine standing at the desk.
Skulduggery’s gun leaped into his hand, and Sanguine laughed and backed away, hands up.
“Don’t shoot!” he cried in mock horror. “I’m unarmed!”
Skulduggery didn’t say anything. The gun didn’t waver.
Sanguine lost the laugh. “Hey, I’m serious now. Don’t you shoot me.”
“You’re under arrest,” Skulduggery said.
“Sanctuary agents have no jurisdiction in the Midnight Hotel,” Sanguine said. “Ain’t that right? I checked the rules before I came.”
“That is correct,” said Shudder.
“Makes no difference to me,” Skulduggery said coldly. “I can throw you out of here and arrest you then just as easily.”
“You can’t lay a finger on me,” Sanguine smiled. “You’re Shudder, right? Mr Shudder, I believe I have a reservation at this fine establishment for one whole night. The name’s William-Raymond Sanguine. Billy-Ray to my friends.”
Shudder went to his desk and looked in the book, then raised his eyes to Valkyrie and Skulduggery. “He is a guest,” he confirmed.
“Not yet he isn’t,” Skulduggery said, moving to Sanguine. Shudder stepped between them.
“Skulduggery, this man is a guest of the Midnight Hotel. As such he is under my protection. Please put away your gun.”
Skulduggery didn’t move for a moment then, slowly, his gun slid back into its holster.
Shudder turned to Sanguine. “Do you have any bags, Mr Sanguine?”
“Just this one,” the Texan answered, nudging a small case at his feet.
“Is that where you’re keeping the Soul Catcher?” Valkyrie asked.
“Valkyrie, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. All I’ve got in my case is a change of underwear and a good book to read.” He turned to Shudder. “Now then, let’s make this official. Where do I sign in?”
29
THE SIT-DOWN
The common room was empty except for Valkyrie and Skulduggery, who were sitting at the round table. Most of the hotel’s guests were gone for the day, leaving the place quiet. That changed when Sanguine came downstairs, whistling a tune. He saw them, waved and came over.
“May I?” he asked, indicating one of the empty chairs. When they didn’t object, he sat. Valkyrie saw her darkened reflection in his sunglasses.
“Well, now that we’re sittin’ here,” he said with a flash of white teeth, “I can’t think of anythin’ interestin’ to say.”
“How about you tell us where you’re keeping Kenspeckle Grouse and Tanith Low?” Skulduggery suggested. “And then where exactly you plan to detonate the Desolation Engine, assuming you manage to get it repaired? After that, we can go wherever the conversation takes us.”
“And if I don’t? Will you beat it out of me?”
“With pleasure.”
“The proprietor will not stand for violence in his hotel,” Sanguine reminded them happily. “I checked with him and he is a stickler about this. If you go after me, he’ll go after you. Ain’t that great? Ain’t that just the greatest rule you ever heard?”
“I’m sure my friend will make an exception in this case,” Skulduggery said.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Where’s Tanith?” Valkyrie asked.
“She’s safe,” Sanguine answered. “Relatively unharmed – though I feel I must state for the record, I voted to have her killed immediately. Good thing for her our little Revengers’ Club is a democracy. By the people, for the people.”
“That’s what you’re calling yourselves?” Skulduggery asked. “The Revengers’ Club?”
“It has a ring to it, don’t you think? It’s not as sinister as the Diablerie, but heck, we don’t want to bring back gods or destroy the world. We just want a little payback.”
Valkyrie sat forward. “What do you want? Scarab is doing this because he thinks he was framed. Crux is doing this because he’s insane. Dusk is holding a grudge against me because of his scar. Why are you doing this?”
Sanguine inspected his fingernails. “I got my reasons.”
“Oh,” Skulduggery murmured. “Of course.”
Valkyrie looked at him, but his attention was focused on Sanguine.
“A few weeks ago, you burrowed in and out of the Necromancer Temple,” he said, “but later, when you broke Dusk out of prison, you only burrowed in. You had to fight your way out. You could have snatched Professor Grouse without a fuss, but you didn’t. You bundled him into a car and you drove. What’s wrong with you, Billy-Ray?”
Sanguine grinned. “You can’t expect me to reveal all my secrets before the—”
“You’re hurt,” Skulduggery interrupted and Sanguine’s jaw clenched. “My guess is the wound Valkyrie inflicted on you at Aranmore Farm last year is causing you more trouble than you’d anticipated. You hurt yourself when you stole the Soul Catcher, didn’t you? Maybe you tore something up inside. Is that what happened? You tried breaking Dusk out quietly, but you just couldn’t face using your power for the return journey. That’s why you’re looking for revenge – because Valkyrie stole your magic from you.”
Sanguine lunged at Valkyrie, but Skulduggery caught his wrist and kicked the chair from under him. Sanguine went sprawling and Shudder walked into the room.
“Is everything all right here?” he asked in his quiet voice.
“Billy-Ray fell off his chair,” Skulduggery said. “Billy-Ray, are you OK down there?”
Sanguine stood, his face tight. He brought his chair back to the table. “I’m good,” he said. “Just clumsy, is all.”
Shudder looked at them all for a moment then came forward and sat. “You may continue your conversation,” he said.
Sanguine turned sideways in his chair, resting one elbow on the table. “Is there a rule against threats?” he asked.
“No,” said Shudder.
“There a rule against the promise of a violent death?”
“There is not.”
“Well, OK then.” Sanguine’s eyeless gaze fell upon Valkyrie. “I’m goin’ to kill you. You cut me right across the belly with that damned sword, an’ I couldn’t go to no big-shot professor to get stitched up. I had to go to some back-alley moron who talked the talk, but when it came to walkin’ the walk, he barely got faster than a shuffle. I’m fairly certain he made things worse. He said give it a few weeks to heal and I gave it a month, but when I went burrowin’, it was like my guts were on fire and the smoke was collectin’ in my lungs. Now, I can’t go back and demand he fix me up on account of the fact that he’s already dead, an’ so the only person I have left to blame is the little brat who cut me in the first place.”
“It was self-defence,” Valkyrie said.
“That ain’t no excuse. Fact is that makes it worse. If you’d just let me kill you when I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be in this situation. This whole thing is your fault.”
“Your logic is impeccable,” Skulduggery said. “Then what about Springheeled Jack? What is his motivation for revenge?”
Sanguine gave a shrug. “Jack is doin’ what Jack does – causin’ mischief. He just want
s to cause more of it, on a wider scale, and he wants to get rid of anyone who’d try an’ stop him.”
“But why the Engine? Why go to the trouble of working to repair a bomb of that magnitude if all you want is revenge on a few select individuals?”
“Now that,” Sanguine said, his smile returning, “is the secret part of our secret plan.”
“Why are you here, Mr Sanguine?” interrupted Shudder. “I make it a point not to pry into my guest’s private lives, but Skulduggery has indicated that you’re here for a Remnant. If that’s true, we may have a problem.”
“Well,” Sanguine said, “it is true, so what kind of a problem do we have?”
Shudder sighed. “I have twenty-three rooms in this hotel that people are free to use. The twenty-fourth room, however, is off-limits to everybody.”
“I had heard this, yeah.”
“Even if you were able to use your powers,” Shudder continued, “you wouldn’t be able to enter. The twenty-fourth room is more secure than any prison cell. It’s why I was asked to keep the Remnants here in the first place.”
“I’m sure that is true,” Sanguine nodded.
“There is no window and only one door into the twenty-fourth room and there is only one key for that door.”
“I get it, yeah.”
“And I keep it on me at all times.”
“I guessed you would.”
“And yet you still plan to take a Remnant with you when you leave.”
“I have to be honest here – yeah, I do. It’s a nice subtle little plan. You’ll like it. Without goin’ into specifics, when the time comes, I’m fully expectin’ to either be given the key or to take it from your cold, dead hand and just let myself in.”
“I see,” Shudder murmured. “You should know that’s very unlikely.”
“It’s unlikely now. When the time comes, it’ll be pretty likely, believe me.” He glanced at his watch. “An’ the time’s approachin’…”
Valkyrie detected movement outside the window. She went to it and looked out. “There are people out there,” she said.
Skulduggery and Shudder joined her. People were approaching from all directions – dozens of them. Valkyrie saw dried blood on their clothes. They got closer and she realised how pale they were, how dishevelled. Some of them stumbled as they walked. Their faces were expressionless.
“Zombies,” Skulduggery said. “Zombies at the door. This is your version of subtle, is it?”
Sanguine stood up from the table and grinned.
“The dead can’t pass through,” Shudder said. “They can stay out there until they rot and this hotel will move on at midnight. I fail to see how any of this would make me open the door to the Remnants.”
“Well,” said Sanguine, “that’s because you don’t have all the facts. You got your security mojo workin’, keepin’ out undesirables like the walkin’ dead, and all that’s great. But see, the problem with security symbols is that there’s always a way round them. And that whole magical alphabet thing has always been a bit of a hobby for my daddy. He’s no expert, but he knows which symbol cancels out what symbol, y’know? All those zombies out there? They’re all got this symbol carved into their smelly, rottin’ skin.” He handed a crumpled piece of paper to Shudder. “What d’you think? Think it’ll do the job?”
Shudder examined the paper and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t respond.
“You know it’s enough for those pesky critters to come stormin’ in here, don’t you?” Sanguine continued. “So here’s my offer, Anton. You open that door for me, you let me get what I came here to get and I’ll call off the zombie horde.”
Shudder looked at him then out of the window. He shook his head. “No.”
Sanguine sighed. “That’s the wrong move, buddy. It’ll be a bloodbath once they get started.”
“We can hold them off,” Shudder said. “What do you think, Skulduggery?”
“Should be fun,” Skulduggery responded. “Valkyrie here has never held off a horde of zombies before. It’ll be good experience for her.”
“Oh, joy,” she muttered.
“You people,” Sanguine said. “Always so eager to die heroic deaths. I don’t want any blood on this suit, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be headin’ outside now. Wouldn’t want to be caught in here when the carnage starts.”
He turned to go and Shudder punched him. Sanguine spun and fell back, nearly tumbling over a chair.
“What about your no violence rule?” he said, rubbing his jaw.
“No violence towards guests,” Shudder clarified. “You are no longer considered a guest.”
Skulduggery walked towards him and Sanguine straightened up.
“You can punch me all you like,” he began and Skulduggery said, “Oh, good,” and hit him. Sanguine tripped over the coffee table and fell backwards to the ground.
“It won’t do no good!” he barked. “Them zombies are comin’ in an’ there’s nothin’ you can do to stop it!”
“Call them off,” Skulduggery said.
Sanguine spat blood and grinned up at him. “Shan’t.”
“Call them off or I’ll hurt you.”
“How much hurt can you deliver in thirty seconds? Because that’s how long you have. They’re goin’ to come in here and you’re goin’ to fight ‘em off, and can you guess which one of you’s goin’ to fall first? My money’s on the girl. They’re goin’ to tear her apart. They’re goin’ to eat her alive and I’m goin’ to watch and it’ll be a show I ain’t never goin’ to forget.”
A tune filled the air – a terrible, shrill version of Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’.
“That’ll be them now,” Sanguine said, taking out his phone. He moved slowly, like he expected Skulduggery to start kicking him. Instead, Skulduggery gestured and the phone flew from Sanguine’s hand towards Valkyrie. She caught it, pressed the answer button and held it to her ear.
“Uh, hi,” said a man. She knew the voice from somewhere. “Uh, we may have a slight problem.” It was Vaurien Scapegrace. Of course. It stood to reason he’d be involved in this. “The others kind of, they ate someone. And I know you said not to, but they did it without me knowing so…Basically, they’re acting kind of weird and I’m wondering what I should do.”
Valkyrie covered the mouthpiece and looked at Skulduggery. “It’s Scapegrace,” she said. “He’s outside with the zombies and he says they’re acting strangely. He says they ate someone.”
Sanguine sat up, all colour gone from his face. “They what?”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “Eating people is what zombies tend to do.”
“Not these guys,” Sanguine said. “Let me talk to him.”
“Not a chance,” Valkyrie said.
Sanguine got to his knees. “You have to let me talk to him. I swear to God, you have to. If I tell ‘em to attack, you can shoot me, OK? But I need to talk to him.”
There was panic in his voice, a real fear, and Skulduggery hesitated then gave a nod. Valkyrie tossed Sanguine his phone.
“What do you mean they ate someone?” he said into it. “Who’d they eat? No, I don’t want to know his damn name. I just want to know if it was someone livin’. Oh, you idiot. Oh, you moron. My father told you. He said one thing above all else – do not let them taste human flesh and what did you do? What did you do? Exactly. You’re a moron. You’re lucky you’re already dead.”
Sanguine hung up, put his phone away and looked at them.
“Slight change of plans,” he said. “I ain’t goin’ outside.”
“And why is that?” Skulduggery asked.
Sanguine got to his feet, both hands held open in front of him. “You keep those zombies from eatin’ people an’ they’re fine. They rot, an’ they smell, an’ they get dumber an’ dumber as they go on, but they do what they’re told. But you let ‘em get one mouthful of human flesh, from a livin’ human, and they go native. The only thing on their minds right now is killin’ an’ eatin’ a whole lot of people. Now obvi
ously, that was the threat I was plannin’ on usin’ against you, but I kind of figured I’d be well out of the way before any of this flesh-eatin’ actually took place.”
“So you’re stuck in here,” Shudder said, “with us.”
Sanguine tried a smile. “Ain’t it ironic?”
30
MID-AFTRNOON OF THE DEAD
“They’re coming closer,” Valkyrie said, backing away from the window.
Skulduggery took his gun from its holster and looked at Shudder. “How many guests do you have here right now?”
“Five,” he said, “all upstairs in their rooms.”
“You should go tell them to prepare. Any of them who want to help us, they’re welcome. Anyone else should barricade their door.”
Shudder nodded and disappeared up the stairs.
There were hands on the window, pressing and knocking against the glass. Valkyrie saw a face, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. The zombie saw her and snarled. Skulduggery swept his hand slowly and the bookcase slid in front of the window.
They turned the table on its side and laid it against the door in the reception area, then jammed the couch against it to hold it in place. The hotel didn’t have a back door, and there wasn’t much they could do to barricade every window on the ground floor except pull the curtains shut. At least now the zombies couldn’t see their movements. Shudder came down the stairs with a small, thin woman and a balding man.
“We have two volunteers,” he said. “Mr Jib is an Elemental and Miss Nuncio is an Adept.”
“Glad to have another Elemental in the mix,” Skulduggery said to them. “Miss Nuncio, what Adept discipline have you studied?”
“Linguistics and etymology,” she said.
Skulduggery paused. “Languages?”
Miss Nuncio nodded. “I can speak every mortal language ever spoken.”
“Well, pardon me,” Sanguine said, “but how in tarnation is that goin’ to help us fight off a pack of bloodthirsty zombies? You goin’ to throw dictionaries at ‘em or just talk ‘em to death?”
