by Darren Shan
Battersea Power Station isn’t that far from County Hall, an easy three-quarters-of-an-hour hike. I’m surprised none of us swung by before and noticed all the hooded figures that had made themselves at home. Although now that I consider it, our official scouting orders always directed us away from that area. Dr. Oystein and Master Zhang weren’t obvious about it. They just never sent us anywhere close.
I’m sure some of the Angels have passed by regardless and clocked the activity within. But they would have told the doc or Zhang, who probably asked them to keep it quiet, so as not to disturb the rest of us. In fairness to the cautious pair, I wouldn’t have felt so at ease all these months knowing that our enemies were camped nearby.
I decide to wait by the gleaming glass buildings of Vauxhall, more than halfway along a road called Nine Elms Lane. I choose an open area and settle down.
I have to endure a longer wait than anticipated. An hour passes slowly. Another. Still no sign of them. The sun is starting to sink. I worry that they’ve decided to wait until morning or, even worse, that they took a different route. I can’t imagine why they would have. This is the most direct approach. But maybe Dr. Oystein told them to go a roundabout way.
As I’m on the verge of deserting my post to check what’s happening at the power station, I spot them skulking towards me. I’d know it was them even if I wasn’t expecting them—there’s no mistaking skinny Pearse in his beekeeper’s hat, face hidden behind the mesh. And Conall and Rage have to be the biggest pair of teenage behemoths stalking the streets of London.
Dan-Dan is between Pearse and Conall, Rage just behind the trio. All of the Angels are alert, checking the doorways and windows of every building, pausing anytime a shadow flickers. Dan-Dan is silent. He doesn’t look nervous, but definitely more somber than he was on our way back from New Kirkham.
Conall spots me while they’re still a good distance away. He holds up a hand and they stop. I stand, take off my hat and slowly wave it over my head. They can’t see my face, but they can tell from my gesture that I’m no ordinary revived. They have a quick confab, then Conall comes trotting towards me. He stops when he realizes who it is.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“Working on my tan,” I joke.
“You’re not supposed to be here. Dr. Oystein told you to stay in County Hall.”
“Looks like I disobeyed him,” I sniff. “You gonna court-martial me?” Conall stares at me, bewildered. “Just call the others over. We can sort it out between us.”
Rage is furious when Conall fetches him. I’ve never seen him so angry, and he’s someone who rarely passes for placid at the best of times.
“I’m gonna kick your arse all the way back to County Hall,” he snarls.
“You’ll have to,” I tell him, “because I won’t go quietly.”
“What the hell are you playing at? Weren’t you listening to the doc? You’re a threat. Owl Man can turn you against us.”
“I don’t think he will.”
“Think?” Rage explodes. “If you were capable of rational thought, you’d have stayed where you were told. Get out of here, Smith, before I go to town on you.”
“You and whose army?” I challenge him.
“I’m serious,” he says coldly, stepping forward, fingers clenching. “I’ll beat you to within an inch of your worthless, irritating excuse for a life.”
“Bring it on, big boy,” I retort without budging, never one to back down when put on the spot, even when faced with a foe who’s packing way more muscle than me.
“Children, children,” Dan-Dan murmurs behind us.
“Stay out of this, fat man,” I snap, giving Rage the evil eye while I wait for him to take a swing at me.
“Believe me, I would like nothing better than to watch the pair of you duke it out,” Dan-Dan giggles. “It would be a scintillating scrap, and I’m not at all sure who I’d bet on if I was to gamble. But you will draw unwanted attention. If you kick up a fuss, the undead will investigate. Not a problem for those of you who lack a heartbeat, but it would be a serious inconvenience for yours truly.”
“We can deal with a few reviveds,” Rage snorts.
“Not if they come in their hundreds,” Dan-Dan says.
“He’s right,” Pearse mutters. “You can’t do this here. It’s too open.”
“That’s what she banked on,” Conall says with disgust.
“I always was a clever girl,” I snicker, then focus on Rage. “I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I need to do this. Vinyl was my best friend, and I think we’ll have a better chance of convincing Owl Man to let the others go if I’m on the scene.”
“I don’t care.”
“I won’t go back.”
“Then I’ll tie you up and leave you here.”
“Not without me making the mother of all rackets.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says, but I can tell by his expression that he’s not sure. My presence has thrown him. He wasn’t expecting this.
“I won’t interfere,” I promise, lying through my teeth. “But I can’t sit by and do nothing. If something goes wrong–if they try to trick you, or if you’re attacked on your way back–I’d spend the rest of my days wondering if I could have made a difference.”
“B,” Rage says softly, a rare use of my favored name, “don’t put me in this position. Dr. Oystein tasked me with ensuring this goes smoothly. Let me do my job. You can wait here for us if you want, help escort Vinyl back from this point. And I’ll do everything I can to have the other humans released too. How does that sound?”
“Like a fair compromise,” I nod.
Rage starts to smile. Then he catches my smirk and curses. “You never were one for compromise, were you?” he says gruffly.
“Not when I was alive. Definitely not since I died.”
“You’re going to regret it if you come,” he warns me.
“Maybe. It won’t be the first time I’ve ignored sound advice and gone on to rue the day.”
Rage hesitates, weighing up his options.
“We can return to County Hall,” Conall suggests. “Tell Dr. Oystein. Leave it to him to sort her out.”
“Then you won’t be able to bring Dan-Dan back today,” I note. “And I’ll still be waiting in this spot tomorrow.”
“Maybe we won’t swap him at all,” Pearse jeers. “Vinyl’s your best friend, not ours. If you’re going to be a stubborn fool, maybe we’ll just let them kill him and take care of Dan-Dan ourselves.”
Dan-Dan blanches. “Easy, young fellow. Let’s not do something hasty that we’ll all regret later.”
“Last chance, B,” Rage says. “Wise up and keep out of this.”
I shrug helplessly. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” he says. “If you’re that damn keen to tag along, on your own head be it. I’ll lead. Fall in behind and cover the rest of us. You might as well make yourself useful.”
“Anything you say, boss.”
Rage shoots me a dirty look and moves forward. I slip to the rear of the group, relieved and surprised that it wasn’t more difficult than that. Pearse and Conall take up their positions on either side of Dan-Dan. Rage looks back, makes sure we’re all where we should be. Then he jerks his head, points a finger and we advance.
EIGHTEEN
As we’re turning off Nine Elms Lane, Rage pauses and looks back. “Change places with me.”
“Why?” I ask suspiciously.
“I want you to push ahead, so if there are any traps, you’ll trigger them first.”
“How considerate of you,” I snap.
“Hey,” he says, “I don’t want you here. If you’d rather back out, be my guest. Otherwise take the crap job and be thankful we’re letting you be part of this at all.”
I give Rage the finger, but slip ahead of the group as ordered. I edge along, ready to throw myself aside if I get the slightest scent of a trap.
I negotiate the road without any pr
oblems and come to the area surrounding the power station. Any buildings that were here have been leveled to create a stretch of flat, arid wasteland. The second I spot the four famous chimneys, there’s an ear-shattering screech and I crash to the ground with shock. Yelping with pain, I drag myself back into the shadows.
Rage is doubled over laughing. Pearse and Conall are smiling too. Dan-Dan is shaking his head and tutting gently.
“Jerks,” I snarl, getting to my knees and waiting for the ringing in my ears to fade.
“That place is packed with living, juicy humans,” Rage chortles. “It’d be a beacon for every zombie within a five-kilometer radius if they didn’t have a suitable deterrent in place.”
“It’s like the system of high-pitched sirens around County Hall,” Pearse says.
“Only Dr. Oystein told us theirs is far more effective,” Conall adds. “Lots more sirens and way more powerful than ours.”
“Nice of you to warn me,” I huff, staggering to my feet, almost back to normal, though there’s still a pain in my teeth, similar to how they used to feel after a trip to the dentist.
“That’s the price you pay for being an interloper,” Rage chuckles, then tosses me a pair of earplugs. “They’re heavy-duty. They’d block out the noise of a plane crash. Once you put them in, you won’t be able to hear. We won’t either.”
“That’ll put us at a disadvantage, won’t it?” I frown.
“Only for a while,” Rage says. “The sirens are arranged in several rings, each attached to a separate generator to ensure they never lose the entire system at the same time. We figure they’ll cut the last couple of loops as we get close, once they verify who we are, so that Owl Man can come down and chat with us.”
“We’re all going up to the power station?”
“Yeah,” Rage says, shooting the other pair of Angels a dirty look. “I wanted to take the Child Catcher by myself–the doc was in favor of that too–but these muppets insisted on accompanying me.”
“If we’ve come this far, we might as well see it through,” Pearse smiles.
“And what happens when we get to the front door?” I ask. “Do we invite ourselves in for tea and biscuits?”
Rage scratches the back of his neck. “We’ll see how Owl Man wants to play it. We’ve discussed different scenarios with Dr. Oystein, but ultimately it’s Owl Man’s call. We’ll have to play along and try to make sure he can’t pick us off too easily once the swap has been made.”
“You’ll need to keep back,” Pearse says to me. “In case the owl guy tries to turn you against us.”
“Nah,” Rage says. “Better we stick together. She’ll be a target by herself.”
Pearse shakes his head, lips pinched together behind the shade of his mesh mask. “If you’re willing to let her come with us, that’s your call. But I’m not having her within easy striking distance of me.”
“Me neither,” Conall grunts. “No offense, B.”
“None taken.” I cock an eyebrow at Rage.
“You should stay here,” he scowls. “You’ll be vulnerable in the open, cut off from the team. They might mistake you for a stray revived.”
“I can look after myself,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he mutters sourly. “If you’re hell-bent on sticking your neck out, don’t blame me if they chop off your head.” He crooks a finger at Dan-Dan. “Here, little piggy. I’m gonna keep you nice and close on the way in.”
“Be careful not to scratch me,” Dan-Dan says as Rage pulls him in tight and lays a hand on his shoulder, fingers just a few centimeters from his exposed neck. I need to get myself into that position before we swap him, so that I can finish the job I came here to do. But for the moment I’ll tag along, see how things play out.
“You’ll be fine as long as I don’t stumble,” Rage cackles. “Right, are there any last-minute questions?”
“What do we do if they shoot B?” Conall asks.
“Nothing. Leave her to rot where she falls. It’ll be her own fault for sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted.”
“And if they shoot Conall or me?” Pearse asks.
“I’ll have a mass said for you,” Rage snaps, then sighs. “Look, this is a high-risk maneuver. They can’t shoot me for fear I’d infect Dan-Dan. The rest of you will be fair game. If you cross that wasteland with me, there’s a better-than-average chance that you won’t be coming back. You should wait here. I’m the only one who needs to be present to negotiate. The rest of you will have nothing to do, at least until we find out how the swap is going to be handled.”
“You’re not leaving me behind,” I bark. “I’m coming no matter what.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he rumbles. “What about you guys? Do you want to wait for us here or are you as dumb as this stubborn bitch?”
Pearse and Conall share a worried look. Then Pearse rolls his eyes. “If B’s going along, we have to go too.”
“Yeah,” Conall agrees. “We can’t have a girl showing more balls than us.”
“What a pair of modern-day knights,” I laugh.
“Right,” Rage says again, angry but resigned. “If you’re all determined to be a pack of martyrs, let’s stick in the plugs. We’ll take them out when we get to the wall. Until then, it’s silent mode.”
I insert the ear plugs. They’re wax and I carefully prod them about until they fill the space entirely, blocking out all sounds. It’s not easy because of the bones sticking out of my fingers, but I manage and the world becomes an eerie, hushed place. Seconds later Rage looks round and we all give him the thumbs-up. His mouth opens and closes–he must be shouting to test the plugs–but nobody reacts except for Dan-Dan, who winces and covers his ears with his hands.
Rage checks with us again, then nods, takes firm hold of his hostage and moves forward into the open zone. The rest of us follow and take our first steps of the deadly march across no-man’s-land, where we’re easy prey for any snipers who might be keen to put a bullet or two through our undead brains.
NINETEEN
I’ve seen the landmark brick building from a distance before, but never up close. It’s massive—makes me feel like an ant. We approach from the east side. There’s a smaller, newer building attached to it here, and several entrances. Most have been bricked up, but a couple are in working order, barred by sturdy steel gates.
I can’t see any signs of life. I suppose, even with the zombie-repelling sirens, the residents prefer to keep a low profile, so as not to offer their brain-hungry enemies any incentive to gather and attack.
A few corpses are scattered around the wasteland. All have been shot through the head, evidence that while we might not be able to see anyone inside the power station, they must be able to see us. I feel wretchedly exposed. I have to force myself to push on at the same slow pace as the others, several meters removed from them, all on my own, with no place to shelter if the snipers open fire.
Even with the earplugs there’s an unpleasant hum from the sirens. My teeth feel like they’re shaking in their sockets and there’s a ball of white-hot pain building at the back of my eyes. I want to be sick, but there’s nothing inside my stomach to throw up.
Trying to distract myself, I wonder how the corpses we’re passing made it this far. Maybe they were deaf and naturally immune to the invisible barrier of the sirens. That seems like the most logical answer until I peer more closely at one of the rotting carcasses and spot a stream of dried blood and gunk on its cheek, running from its ear. At first I’m confused. Then I realize that these zombies were so desperate that they must have pierced their own eardrums and deafened themselves in order to advance.
I stare at the pitiful corpse and fight back an almost overwhelming wave of grief. I don’t know why this should hit me so hard, but for a moment I can’t move. I stand, swaying, obsessed by the stain on the corpse’s cheek, thinking of all that we have lost and done to ourselves as a people.
Then I force myself to look away and continue. Th
ere’s no time for pity. I’ll save it for later. Not that there’s probably going to be a later for me.
We’re almost at the power station when the buzzing from the sirens dies away. We pause and look at one another. Rage starts to remove an earplug. He eases it halfway out, waits cautiously, then slides it free. He nods to show it’s okay and we all take them out. I keep mine in the palm of my hand in case they turn the sirens on again.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dan-Dan smiles.
“Speak for yourself,” Conall mutters, rubbing his jaw. “I feel like someone’s been scraping blackboards next to my head for the last twenty-four hours.”
“You guys did a good job with the sirens,” Rage compliments the human.
“Only the best for Dan-Dan and his chums,” Dan-Dan chuckles.
“A pity you weren’t so well set up on the HMS Belfast,” I goad him.
He shrugs. “We weren’t expecting an attack from the river, but we’ve learned our lesson. The sirens circle the building here.”
I stare up at the towering brick wall of the power station. With my finger bones I could scale it easily–we can dig into brick as if it was mud–but I’m sure I’d be shot before I got anywhere near the top.
“What now?” I ask Rage.
“Let’s wait for them to send a welcoming party.” He doesn’t look as edgy as the rest of us. He always was a cool customer. There’s not much that shakes Rage.
Nothing happens for a few minutes. I start to edge closer to the others, feeling isolated, but Pearse spots me and goes, “Nuh-uh.”
I scowl at him. “What will you do to stop me?”
“Yell out that you’re a threat to Dan-Dan,” he grins wickedly. “They’ll fire so many bullets into you that there’ll be nothing left but ash.”
