“What is it?” She looked around.
Violet choked, spluttering air as she tried to take in what she was seeing.
Where the field and the tree maze beyond should have been, now stood a huge metal wall. It stretched right to the sky and Violet had to strain to see the top, making herself dizzy. Along the wall were join lines, like scars, where sheets of metal had been welded together to form the enormous structure. It was propped up at regular intervals by thick steel bars dug into the soil and seemed to create a boundary round the whole castle.
“Do you think that’s what we were feeling in the field, the invisible thing, what you walked into?” she asked breathlessly.
“It must be,” Boy said, shaking his head.
“But it’s not invisible and it’s metal – the thing I touched felt soft and smooth. It reminded me of a dress Mam used to wear.”
“Well, whatever it is, it works. It’s able to hide the castle.”
“Do you think Powick built it?” Violet shivered.
Boy looked nervous. “I don’t know, but if she didn’t, then who did? We’d better get off the path. She and the others could be back at any time.”
As they crept along the cobbles, Violet noticed odd stone carvings – wolves with human bodies, two-faced men, and roaring lions – all standing guard round the ornate window frames of the castle, as if watching for intruders.
The arched door facing them was dotted with dark metal rivets and an enormous wrought-iron handle rested over the biggest keyhole Violet had ever seen. Above the door, set into the stone, was a carved coat of arms depicting a castle and two men holding bows and arrows. On either side of the entrance, mounted to the walls, were large wooden torches, both aflame, their light casting sinister shapes across the grass.
“I’m not sure I want to go in there,” Violet stuttered nervously as they stood in the shadow of the huge doorway. “Do you think Powick lives here now? But why did she stay in the cottage in the Outskirts if this castle was here all along? And what’s she planning, Boy? It must be something really bad – that note said we won’t win this time…”
“Stop it, Violet.” Boy grabbed her shoulders. “We can’t panic, not here – we have to stay calm. We don’t know what’s going on or how Powick’s involved. We just need to find out what’s happening and get back home so we can all come up with a plan together…”
Violet steadied herself. He was right, she had to be calm. But she was finding it very hard with a stone gargoyle glaring down at her from the top of the arch above.
Boy tried to heave open the heavy door. His face burned with the effort but he couldn’t shift the solid wood.
“There has to be another entrance somewhere,” Violet whispered, regaining her cool. “I was at a castle once when I was on holiday with Mam and Dad. There were loads of doors into it.”
Quickly the pair slipped off the path and onto the grass, heading round the side of the castle. Five flaming torches riveted onto the high stone wall lit the night here and they crept through the shadows, keeping out of their glare. They came across two smaller wooden doors, but both of them were locked.
Boy was just ahead of Violet as they rounded the tower at the far end of the wall when suddenly he vanished.
“Violet. In here!” he hissed.
An open iron gate led into the tower. Violet peered through the darkness. She could just see Boy waiting for her on the steps of a spiral stone staircase that wound upwards. Quickly she followed him, her breath heavy with the effort as she climbed.
A strange buzzing sound grew louder with each step. Close to the top, a sharp wind whipped round the narrow space, chilling her bones. She turned a corner and could see the starry sky above her as she stepped up and out onto a stone landing. Night had completely fallen.
The wind tore at her clothing. A battlement wall traced the top of the round tower and she barely spotted Boy’s shadowed figure leaning against it.
He turned to face her.
“I know why the note said we won’t save Town this time.” There was a wobble in his voice and his face was ghostly pale.
“What is it?”
He didn’t reply but gestured below.
Violet braced against the wind as she edged across the platform. What did Boy mean? The buzzing sound was really loud now. She reached the wall and peered through a gap in the battlements.
At first her mind couldn’t understand what her eyes were seeing, then her stomach heaved. She retched but nothing came out.
“Shush.” Boy panicked. “They’ll hear you!”
Standing in the torchlit cobbled courtyard below, like hundreds of soldiers on parade, were rows and rows of zombies.
“What…what’s going on?” Violet stuttered, staring down into the courtyard.
“I don’t know,” Boy whispered.
The zombies were lined up from one end of the cobbled yard to the other, like an army ready to march to war. The thought made Violet quiver.
Flickering torches cast deep shadows across the creatures’ gruesome features. Each of the zombies stood still, their eyes closed and heads hanging down, facing towards the main castle entrance.
They all looked similar to Hugo. Nurse Powick’s handiwork was evident in the rough lines of stitching and patches of fur that traced their bodies. Their clothes were ragged and caked in dirt as if they’d been pulled from their graves; deep purple bruises covered their green- and yellow-tinged skin, and pus oozed from open wounds. Some of the creatures were missing limbs, while bones protruded at awkward angles from others. One particular monster’s head was cocked at an impossible angle, as though its neck was broken.
These zombies had metal outer-skeletons too, like the others they’d seen in the forest. Thick bars of steel traced their limbs and spine, attached to wires that cut deep into the skin. The left foot of each creature was securely cuffed by a wide metal band, attached to a short sturdy chain that was anchored to the ground.
Beside each cuff was a small black box dug into the earth. Each box had a red wire that snaked up to the middle of the metal bar which traced the spine of every creature. The black box had to be the battery that charged the zombies.
Violet turned around unsteadily and sat down with her back against the battlements. Boy copied and they rested side by side in stunned silence. The buzz that she’d heard while she climbed the tower now seemed to engulf her.
“What’s that sound?” Violet asked.
“It must be the batteries,” Boy replied. “I think the zombies are being charged up.”
“For battle…” The words were out before she could stop them.
Boy didn’t reply, which made it worse.
Hugo was strong – his steel frame made him more powerful than anyone Violet had ever met. So what if hundreds of Hugos marched onto the streets of Town? Boy was right, maybe the note was beginning to make sense – if Powick had some kind of zombie invasion planned, they’d never be able to win, not this time.
“What does Powick have against Town? I can understand George and Edward’s actions, at least a little – they hated William and how he was Iris’s favourite, so they wanted to hurt him,” Violet said, chasing her thoughts. “But Powick? She doesn’t have any reason to hurt us, or Town, does she? An army this size must have taken her years to sew together. She must have been working on her plan for ages – but why?”
“I don’t know, Violet.” Boy shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe she doesn’t need a good reason, maybe she’s just crazy?”
“It just doesn’t add up! Unless she’s doing it for Edward and George…or maybe even for Tom? But she doesn’t treat Tom as if she likes him. And the note said they …”
A loud bang rocketed off the walls. The pair scrambled up, peering back through the gaps in the turreted stone. Powick, Tom, Hugo and the two other zombies from earlier stood at the top of the courtyard, just inside the huge arched door.
“They’re back,” Violet whispered. “We need to get out of her
e now! We need to get help.”
“Shush,” Boy hissed.
“They can’t hear me from up here,” she snapped.
Suddenly Powick marched through the rows of zombies towards the back wall of the castle. Tom followed like a shadow.
“She’s here somewhere! Bring her to me!” the woman screeched, her voice echoing off the walls as she stopped in a doorway.
Boy’s twin nodded feebly.
“Everything we’ve been working for has led to this moment. All those years of sacrifice! I won’t have that cursed girl ruin it all! He’s waited too long!”
“I think she’s talking about me…” Violet trembled.
“But who’s he ?” Boy asked, his dark eyes large. “Who’s waited too long?”
Violet shook her head, unable to speak.
“You’re right though, we have to get help, now!” Boy continued. “Whatever is going on, it’s too big for us this time! Let’s get back to the maze – if we can find our way to the other side we should come out near the Outskirts.”
The pair darted across the landing and down the spiral staircase onto the grass outside the castle walls.
Nervously, they snuck back the way they had come. Boy had already passed the first tower and was out of sight, heading for the door in the huge metal sheeting, when someone laughed behind Violet.
She froze.
“That’s the spirit, dear, give up now! There’s no use in running,” a woman chuckled.
Violet turned slowly around and shuddered. Nurse Powick’s big features were shadowed heavily by the flaming torchlight, making her look like a witch.
“Certainly makes my job easier when you submit,” she cackled. “You really ought to be more careful though and not wander around on your own – didn’t anyone ever tell you the world is a dangerous place? You were spotted by my creatures in the forest, you see, cornered like a rat in my trap. And then seen by those beauties.”
Violet followed Powick’s pointed finger and suddenly noticed tiny eye plants growing at the base of the metal sheeting. She groaned – why hadn’t she paid more attention?
“My zombies are like dogs, you know, except much easier to train. Turns out that, unlike dogs, the dead can’t think for themselves, so they do my bidding always!”
Violet was confused by what Powick meant until two large zombies appeared from the shadows behind the nurse. Their bloodshot eyes locked on her while drool dripped from their cracked lips.
“Get her!” the woman cried.
Violet darted towards the exit. She needed to get to the maze, where she’d at least have a chance of hiding. The zombies pounded the earth behind her; the mechanical zoom-and-click sound of their metal frames followed them as they moved. A hand clawed at her shoulder…she ducked but it snagged her jumper and she flew backwards into the monster’s arms.
“Do you like the improvements I’ve made to my creatures?” Powick smiled as Violet squirmed in the zombie’s grip.
The nurse ran her fingers through the monster’s dirt-caked hair, pulling away a tangled chunk.
“Hugo was my first experiment,” she continued, “but these beauties are my latest – the next generation, if you will. Years of work makes for major improvements. These creatures are fast, as you can see, have pinpoint smell once they know what they’re looking for, they’ve a hunger for blood and they’re much easier to control. Ideal weapons. It took a while to get them to this point, but it’s all about learning, don’t you agree?”
Violet’s heart pounded as she tossed and wriggled, trying to break free.
“Best stop that now, dear. He’s as strong as ten men and you, pet, are nothing but a miserable child! Take her inside!” Powick ordered. “Bring her to my surgery. No, hold on, I’ll need to free up a bed first. Bring her to my room – at least she can’t cause trouble up there! Imagine the look on everyone’s faces when their miniature hero parades into Town, a freshly made zombie, determined to destroy them!”
Violet squealed, struggling to free herself as her captor turned and marched straight across the grass, passing beneath the gigantic stone arch into the castle courtyard.
She was being held securely, like a squirming baby, in the thing’s crusty arms. This close she could see the small gaping wounds that dotted the creature’s purplish face and the thread-thin petals of its eye-plant eyes moving like creepy lids when it blinked. Was Powick going to do this to her – turn her into one of her monsters?
She closed her eyes and tried to shake off the image, only opening them again as the temperature changed.
They were inside. The monster carried her through a large entrance hall and stomped up ornate wooden stairs that swept round onto a wide flagstone landing. The long corridor in front of them, lit solely by candlelight, was dotted with dark wooden furniture – the table legs sprouting roaring lions’ heads or monkeys’ feet. The walls were decorated with what looked like dirty hanging carpets. Small holes were worn through the images of war, where woven red-coated men rode white horses into battle.
She thought of Boy. If he’d gotten away, maybe he could get help, before…before…
The monster stopped outside a low door, crouched and shouldered it open. It grunted, then released Violet onto the cold stone floor. She landed painfully on her shoulder. The creature kicked her out of the way before locking her in the room.
The room was pitch black.
Violet lay listening to her racing heartbeat while the zombie’s heavy footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Silence engulfed the space. She eased up to sitting as pain seared across her back where she’d hit the floor.
All sorts of terrible thoughts skulked round her imagination.
What if Powick really did turn her into a zombie and make her attack Town? What if Boy had been captured too and the nurse was operating on him somewhere right now? What if she never saw her parents again?
The what-ifs tumbled round her mind as Violet crouched in a cold corner, trying to cocoon herself against anything that might be hiding in the darkness.
But she couldn’t give in to fear, she told herself, as her body began to shiver. If she had learned anything from her encounters with the Archer brothers, it was that fear controlled people and made them do stupid things. She had to take back control, she had to think straight and get out of here.
Her racing pulse slowed. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and, aided by a trickle of light from under the door, she was just able to make out her surroundings.
Clambering up from the floor, she felt her way across Nurse Powick’s room to the door. She slid her fingers along the wood until they caught on a thick iron ring – the doorknob. She twisted it, the rust scaling off in her hands. Nothing budged.
She looked round for anything that might aid her escape.
The place was cavernous and grey. There was a thin slit window in the thick stone wall and freezing air spilled into the space, making it cold and miserable.
A steel-framed single bed rested by the far wall underneath the window. Next to it was an old wooden desk and chair surrounded by a pile of cardboard boxes.
Lying across the top of the desk was a worn leather-work belt, similar to something Mr Hatchet, the butcher, often wore strapped round his expansive waist. Hanging from it were sharp, stainless-steel implements.
Violet grabbed a long thin tool resembling a giant knitting needle from the belt and walked back to the door. She was sure she’d seen Boy and Jack pick locks enough times to be able to do it herself. She twiddled the needle in the lock while pulling at the handle. Nothing happened.
After a while, she flung the needle with a clatter on the floor. She was locked in. Unless help came, there was no way out.
Her chest tightened and she strained to breathe. She needed hope. The boxes! Maybe there was something in them that might help her.
Quickly she kneeled by the pile of battered cardboard and opened the nearest box. Soft fur greeted her fingers and she pulled out a purple teddy bear bandaged round
the head. Violet hadn’t had a soft toy in years – she was too old, she insisted. Now she hugged it close, glad of the company as she continued to rifle through the rest of the contents.
Next she found books – some on sewing and knitting, others on surgery, and lots of stuff on faerie tales, myths and legends. Tucked under the books was a small brown box engraved with a heart. Violet opened it. Folded neatly inside was a pile of letters tied together by brown string.
She cuddled the purple bear as she pulled out an envelope. It was yellowed and worn, as though many years old, and was addressed in finely swirled letters to Nurse Powick, Dr Spinners’ Office, Hegel University.
She gasped. Hegel University, where the missing scientists all worked. Had Powick been there too? Did she have something to do with their disappearance?
Violet nervously unfolded the page inside, watching under the door for any sign of an approaching shadow.
Dear Priscilla, she read.
I am flattered that you admire my work greatly. It is becoming ever more difficult to get a hearing amongst my colleagues. I think the field of life sciences scares them all, and none more so than your boss, my once esteemed friend, Dr Spinners.
I thank you greatly for your interest in helping me further my career. I assure you, the work you are doing for me is greatly appreciated and I promise Spinners will not hear anything about it. It’s our secret.
I wanted to thank you for your recent inclusion of papers on the Divided Soul in regards to my son William. You are quite right, my luck has been out since that infant was born. I don’t often delve into the realms of myth and legend but I am open to all kinds of thinking and some of your research does show merit.
I look forward to our debates and your kind ear. I am becoming increasingly frustrated at the way my work is now received, even amongst my own family, but your letters give me some solace.
Yours gratefully,
Dr A. Archer
She shivered. The writer mentioned his son William – could that be William Archer, Boy’s dad? Did this mean the letter was from Boy’s grandfather to Nurse Powick? And they mentioned the Divided Soul. She’d heard about that before.
The Battle for Perfect Page 7
