“How come you’ve all lasted?” Drake asked. “Why is it just Death that keeps –” he reached for a suitable word, but couldn’t find one – “cracking up?”
Famine shrugged. The shed he was leaning against creaked loudly in protest. “Death’s the leader, and he’s the most powerful. Maybe it’s that that does it. The power. Or maybe it’s the responsibility. Don’t ask me.”
“The most powerful?” Drake muttered. “I can’t even summon my horse.”
“You’ll get there. It just takes practice. And the right mindset.”
“And the ability to whistle,” Drake added.
Famine grunted what might have been a laugh. “Yeah, that’s a help an’ all.” He lifted up a roll of flab and pulled out a tin of mackerel. “You really can’t whistle?” he asked, cracking the ring pull and tearing open the lid.
Drake put his fingers in his mouth and blew. A slightly damp silence emerged. “Nope,” he said. “I’ve never been able to do it.”
Famine lifted the can to his lips and half drank, half ate the fishy contents. Drake thought that it was just as well he wasn’t hungry. After that, he didn’t think he’d ever want to eat again.
“What’s your horse like?” Drake asked, when Famine had wiped the oily fish residue from his chin.
“Bandy-legged,” Famine said, then he laughed a hollow laugh. “I don’t ride much, these days.” He looked at his hands, all smeared with oil and fish bits. “Don’t do much of anything, these days.”
They sat in silence for a while longer. “I think... I mean, I’m not sure, but I think one of my teachers might be Death. The old Death, I mean. The last one.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Dr Black, his name is. Do you think he could be?”
Famine shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Well, because he might try to kill me again, for one thing.”
“Yeah, he might at that. Still, I suppose it’ll all be over soon.”
Drake frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The Apocalypse. If he kicks it all off, it’ll all be over for everyone. Won’t have to worry about anything any more.”
Drake thought about this. “Yeah. I suppose.”
He got to his feet. There was a strong breeze blowing around the garden, and he was surprised he didn’t feel cold. “I’m going to head back to bed and lie awake until morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Famine said.
Drake gave him a nod. “See you later.”
“See you later.”
Drake was almost at the wall of weeds when he stopped. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Famine shook his head. “I don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you quit? If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit?”
“Look at me,” Famine said. He gestured down at himself in general. “What else could I do?”
Drake didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he smiled in what he hoped was a supportive way. “Bye, then,” he said, and he pushed aside the first few blades of the tangled grass.
“G’night, Drake.”
With one final glance back, Drake slipped into the grass and headed for home.
“How was horse riding?”
The question accosted Drake before he had reached the end of the path. Mel popped up from behind the fence. Drake couldn’t help noticing that her hair was a shocking shade of red.
“Um... it didn’t really work out in the end,” he told her. “Don’t think it’s my strong point.”
“Shame,” said Mel, but Drake thought she looked secretly quite pleased by this news. “Maybe I can teach you one day.”
“Yeah, that would be... What happened to your hair?”
“Oh that; like it? I’m in disguise.”
“What as? A tomato?”
“Hey, that was quite quick for you,” she said, smiling. “No, I’m disguised as someone with red hair.” She explained it slowly, as if talking to an idiot. “So, you know, someone who’s not me.”
Drake hopped over the gate. “And why are you in disguise, exactly?”
“Because I don’t want to be recognised when we sneak back into Dr Black’s classroom,” she explained.
“And why are we doing that?” Drake asked. Even though he’d had exactly the same idea himself, he was interested to hear Mel’s reason for it.
“Because I was thinking – he still lied. Whether Bingo and that lot turned up or not, he still lied about you being the last one to see them. So, after you went into the shed with your uncle – which, you know, is a new level of weird, by the way – I went back to the school and watched for Dr Black coming out.”
“And?” Drake asked.
“He didn’t.”
“He didn’t what?”
“He didn’t come out. I stood there until ten o’clock. He didn’t come out.”
Drake raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Ten o’clock? Seriously?”
“Wasn’t like I had anything better to do,” Mel said. “After that, I went straight home and disguised my head. He’s up to something, I’m sure of it, and we need to find out what.”
Drake bit his tongue, then decided just to go for it. “I think he’s going to try to destroy the world.”
Mel looked back at him blankly.
“I mean, I’m not sure, but he might be.”
“Right,” she said slowly. “Because I was thinking he might be sleeping in his classroom or something. Like, maybe he couldn’t pay his rent.”
“Or it could be that,” Drake backpedalled. “It could be that too.”
Mel considered the alternatives. “Either one’s reason enough to snoop around in the cupboard, I reckon.” She made up her mind. “If he’s planning on destroying the world, then we’ll stop him. If he’s using the cupboard to sleep in then we’ll, I don’t know, fart on his bed or something. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Drake, then he drew in a breath. “Imagine he was planning to destroy the world,” he said. He tried to sound like he was joking, but his voice took on a serious tone all by itself. “What if we couldn’t stop him? What if no one could?”
Mel thought about this. “That,” she announced, at last, “would be a real bummer.”
THIS TIME, THEY waited until lunch before going anywhere near Dr Black’s classroom. He was on guard duty at the canteen, making sure the food didn’t incite anyone to riot. This meant he would be out of the way for at least twenty-five minutes. That left plenty of time for Drake and Mel to snoop around.
The cupboard door, however, was still locked. Drake studied it. He tapped the wood in several places, without having any real idea why. He’d seen them do it in DIY shows on TV before, so presumably it must serve some purpose.
“I suppose I could try walking through it,” he said. One of the good things about Mel, he had discovered, was that he could say almost anything he wanted to her, and she never seemed in the least bit surprised. Like just then, for example.
“You could try that, certainly,” she said. She held up a key. “Or, we could try this.”
Drake’s eyes lit up. “Where did you get that?”
“Like I said, I have my sources. Don’t ask too many questions,” she said mysteriously. Then she added, “It was there. On the desk.”
“Oh,” said Drake, a little disappointed. If there really was something sinister in the cupboard, Dr Black was unlikely to leave the key just lying around for anyone to find. “Give it a try, then,” he urged.
Mel slid the key into the lock. There was a soft clunk as it turned. Mel pushed the door open and a cool breeze hit them both in the face. From within the cupboard, Drake heard the low drone of an air-conditioning system, and a feeling of dread began to pump through his veins.
“Mel, wait,” he said, but Mel was already stepping into the darkened space and fumbling for the light switch. He bounded in after her as the light came on, revealing a room just two metres wide, and about three times as long.
The cup
board was completely empty, aside from a table that took up almost the entire length of the back wall. A black cloth covered the table and hung down to the floor on all sides. On top of the tablecloth were tools and circuit boards and oddly shaped pieces of metal. Above it, bolted on to the ceiling, two fans noisily pumped out cold air.
Mel raced up to the table and began prodding at the circuit boards. Drake was more cautious. The fans were just like those in the Junk Room cave. He kept his eyes open for self-assembly robotic demons as he walked over to join her.
“I don’t believe I’m seeing this,” said a voice from behind them. Drake and Mel turned to find Mr Franks in the doorway of the cupboard. He had his arms folded across his chest and an expression that was halfway between disappointed and furious. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
Mel was talking before an excuse could form in Drake’s head.
“I’m glad you’re here, Mr Franks,” she said. “Something fishy’s going on.”
“You’re breaking into Dr Black’s cupboard. That’s what’s fishy,” the teacher said reproachfully.
“No, check this out,” Mel said, indicating the circuitry and components on the tabletop. “Tell me this isn’t weird stuff for a history teacher to have lying around?”
Despite himself, Mr Franks peered past them. He cast his gaze across the items on the table.
“What is that stuff?” he asked, staying back by the door. “You shouldn’t be messing about with it. Dr Black wouldn’t like it.”
“No,” Mel said. She gave a low whistle. “He probably wouldn’t. What do you think it is?”
Drake studied the bits of metal. He didn’t recognise any of them, although he recognised their shiny chrome colour. “Not sure,” he said, only half lying.
Mr Franks took a few faltering steps into the cupboard and looked down over their shoulders. “It’s probably nothing,” he said. “Just... some sort of project, or something.”
“Yeah, Project Destroy the World,” Mel said dramatically. “Or Project Build a Home Computer in Sixty Collectable Parts. One or the other.”
“It’s not like any computer I’ve ever seen,” Mr Franks said. Despite his initial concerns about them being in the cupboard, he couldn’t help but be interested by the components on the table. He picked up a circuit board and studied it. “It looks so... advanced,” he said. “Where did he get his hands on something like this?”
“You could ask him,” suggested Mel.
“Ha,” said Mr Franks, without humour. “Yeah, there’s an idea.”
Mel swallowed and pointed to the cupboard door. “No, I mean, you could ask him.”
Mr Franks and Drake both set down the components they were holding, and turned round. The skeletal frame of Dr Black stood in the doorway, his face drawn in anger.
“What... do you think... you are doing?” he demanded in a voice like grinding teeth.
“Dr Black, there you are,” Mr Franks said. He walked towards the other teacher, trying to smile, but failing miserably. “I can explain; you see we were—”
The back of Dr Black’s hand caught Mr Franks across the side of the face. The younger teacher spun until he hit the closest wall. With a faint whimper, he slid down the wall and on to the lino floor.
“Whoa,” Mel said. For the first time since Drake had met her, she looked genuinely shocked. “That was harsh.”
Dr Black took a step into the cupboard. Behind him, the door swung closed. “Mr Finn. Miss Monday,” he said, over-pronouncing every syllable. “I told you not to come here again. I warned you to stay away, but yet here you are, trying to interfere with my plans.” He took another step towards them. “Do you think you can stop me? Is that it? Don’t you realise the irony? It isn’t your job to try to stop me. It’s your job to stand at the sidelines and cheer me on.”
“You are him,” Drake said. He’d had his suspicions, but having them confirmed still came as a shock. “You’re Death Nine.”
“At your service,” Dr Black said, bowing his head just slightly.
“Death Nine? What are you talking about?” Mel asked.
“The others told me why you left. What are you planning to do?” Drake asked. He couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice.
“First, I’m going to get my strength back. And then I’m going to do something –” he waved a hand around, as if searching for a fitting word – “spectacular.”
“Like what?”
Dr Black gave a low chuckle. “I’m not a Bond villain, Mr Finn. Do you really think I’m going to tell you every detail of my scheme?”
“Well, I kind of hoped...”
“I will tell you when I’m going to put it into action, though. When I’m going to start the ball rolling on Armageddon, so to speak.”
“When?”
Dr Black reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black smartphone. He swiped a finger across the screen a few times, then stabbed a thumb against one of the icons.
“Armageddon,” Dr Black said, with a callous smile. “There’s an app for that.”
“What did you do?” Drake demanded. “What have you done?”
“I’ve started the ball rolling on the end of the world, but you shouldn’t concern yourself with what I’ve done. You should worry about what I’m going to do next.” He leaned in closer. “I’m going to kill you, Mr Finn. Right now. And after I’ve killed you, I’m going to kill her.” He shifted his gaze to Mel for just a second, but in that moment, Drake saw his chance.
Roaring, he threw himself at the teacher, shoulder lowered, chin tucked into his chest. War had said that in human form the previous Death would be powerless. He looked frail too. One solid hit should be enough to take him down.
Drake ploughed into Dr Black, but it felt like he’d run head-first into a wall. The teacher didn’t so much as take a single backwards step. He caught the bent-over boy by the waist, hoisted him into the air, then smashed him back down on the floor beside Mr Franks. Drake was surprised – not by the unexpected wrestling move, although that was surprising enough in itself. He was more surprised by the fact that it didn’t really hurt.
It also didn’t hurt when the tip of Dr Black’s shoe was driven into his ribs, although he definitely felt it. Drake rolled clumsily in the narrow cupboard and scrambled to get back to his feet.
“Hey, leave him alone!” Mel yelled. She moved to lash out at the teacher, but Drake’s arm came up to block her way.
“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Stay away from him. He’ll kill you. He’s crazy.”
Two pinpricks of red lit up in the teacher’s eyes. “You say the sweetest things.”
“What’s going on?” Mel asked, backing away.
“Tell her, Mr Finn,” Dr Black oozed. “Tell her everything. Tell her what you really are.”
“What’s he talking about?” The usual light-hearted tone was gone from Mel’s voice now. She was serious. And she was scared. “What have you got me mixed up in?”
“I’ll explain later,” said Drake. “I promise.”
“You know, Mr Finn,” Dr Black began. He raised his bony hands in a choking motion. “You really shouldn’t make promises that you cannot keep.”
THUDOOM!
The door at Dr Black’s back flew open with such force that it cracked the solid stone wall where it hit. The teacher spun one-eighty on his toes, his hands now clenched into fists.
At first, he saw no one, but a movement down by the floor soon caught his attention. He looked down to see a flea-ridden creature glaring back up at him. The hair on the cat’s back stood up as it bared its rotten teeth, extended its filthy claws and said, “Woof”.
ASHORT DISTANCE away, in a dark wooden shed in an overgrown back garden, a telephone rang. It was the first time, since time itself had begun, that this particular telephone had made a sound.
The three men sitting at the table tensed. War straightened his shoulders, adjusted his sword, then smoothed down his beard.
Only then did he reach for the receiver and listen to the clipped tones of the person on the other end of the line.
“Yes, sir,” he said eventually. “I understand, sir.”
With a click, War hung up the phone. He undid the laces of his boots, then tied them again, tighter this time. Only then did he look at the other men.
“Right, then,” he said, with an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice. “That’s us.”
Drake looked down at the barking cat and couldn’t contain his delight. “Toxie!”
“Hey! It’s that ca—” said Mel, before Drake’s hand clamped over her mouth.
“Don’t say it,” he warned.
Dr Black’s lips drew up into a mirthless grin. “Nice kitty,” he said, then he toe-punted the mangy animal across the room. It clattered hard against the bottom of a bookcase. The shelves wobbled back and forth, back and forth, and then they toppled forward, showering Toxie in hardback history books, before crunching down on top of him.
The teacher returned his attention to his captive audience. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”
There was a sudden boom and the bookcase exploded. A shape, like a small cat becoming a big something else, glowed white hot in the corner of the classroom.
The three still-conscious occupants of the cupboard watched as Toxie’s back tore open, and a row of spiky plates grew from his spine. His stubby bones snapped and splintered, then joined together again in new shapes and new sizes. A hide of molten granite burned through the tattered remains of his fur, as the slender muscles across his shoulders bulged. In just a few seconds, Toxie’s body had become that of a terrifying Hellhound.
His head, though, was still very much a cat.
“Getting there,” said Drake encouragingly.
Toxie wagged his forked tail and woofed happily. “What the Hell is going on?” Mel asked, catching Drake by the sleeve and not letting go.
“I’ll explain that later too. But for now, you might want to step back.”
He put himself in front of Mel just as Toxie’s powerful back legs twitched. The Hellhound bounded on to Dr Black’s desk, his paws leaving scorch-marks on the wood. Dr Black’s twisted grin didn’t falter.
The 13th Horseman Page 12
