Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper (20 page)

‘Say again,' said one of the guards. Despite the helmet and the distance, Arthur could hear the disbelief in his voice. Ash was looking at him with widened eyes and gestured to the left. They pulled themselves silently along the wall, trying to get closer before peeking over the edge. One of the Wolfsguard was pressing a button on the side of his helmet but they couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the radio.

The guard grunted irritably and released the button. ‘Bleedin' idiots need our help over there,' he said to his partner, gesturing towards the far end of the park. ‘Seems they've managed to let the zoo animals escape.'

Arthur and Ash looked at each other again, hopeful smiles creeping over their faces. It was working, the plan was actually working! Team 2 had sent the remaining zoo animals stampeding into the park. With all the animals free again, the Wolfsguard near the animal enclosure had called for back-up. Now they had to hope that the guards on the western wall would be overcome by their wolf instincts and leave their positions to join in the hunt.

‘Let's go,' the first guard continued.

The other guard, however, was not so convinced and stayed leaning against the wall.

‘It's their mess – let them clean it up. Why should we go chasing around after animals they let out? Besides, we're not supposed to leave our posts.'

‘Great,' muttered Arthur. ‘We get the one conscientious wolf in the pack!'

‘Come on, would ya!' urged the first guard. ‘It's not like you're gonna get a promotion for standin' around here. Anyways, think of the thrill of the hunt! Don't ya feel like sinkin' yer teeth into one of them cantaloupe things?'

These words seemed to convince his partner. ‘I think you mean an antelope. But you do make a good point. And it has been a long night: we deserve a treat. Fine, let's go.' But before he did, he jabbed a finger at the other guard's chest. ‘But if we get into trouble, and we're forced to write one of those bleedin' reports, I'm blaming you,' he grumbled.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now let's go – we'll miss the big cats!'

There was a flash of green light around both of them and for a moment they blazed too brightly to look at. When the glow dissipated, the guards were gone and their uniforms were in heaps on the grass. Two grey wolves howled at the sky before breaking into a sprint across the expansive, empty fields towards the animal enclosure and away from Ash and Arthur. They looked down the wall and could see the rest of the guards had likewise transformed and were now streaking towards the other end of the park.

Ash gasped like she couldn't believe their luck. Arthur felt exactly the same way and knew that he was grinning like an idiot. They quickly heaved themselves into a sitting position on top of the wall then scrambled down the other side and landed in the park. As soon as they hit the ground, Ash fell to her knees and ran her fingers through the long grass. After a moment of doing that, she caught Arthur watching her inquisitively and her cheeks blushed a bright shade of pink.

‘It's so long since I felt grass,' she explained, getting to her feet. ‘It's stupid, I know.'

‘It's not stupid,' he said. ‘Not at all. But we'd better get on with it; we don't know how long those guards will stay away.'

They went over to the pile of abandoned clothes. The two guards had been much taller than Ash and Arthur, but they had agreed when talking the plan over that blending in was the key. Arthur picked up one of the pairs of overalls the wolves had been wearing and appraised the size.

‘I think this is the smaller pair,' he said. ‘You can have it.'

‘I'm exactly the same size as you!' Ash snorted, but took the overalls anyway.

They pulled on the discarded uniforms over their wetsuits as fast as they could, turning up the excess material of the legs and arms. The dampness of the wetsuits made the overalls stick to them, so they didn't look quite so loose. The flak jackets the wolves had been wearing were surprisingly heavy and far too baggy, but they pulled them on nonetheless and tightened them as much as possible with the Velcro straps. One positive Arthur noticed when he looked at Ash was that they had the pleasing effect of bulking up their frames. The disguises probably wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny, but they would do from a distance.

The steel-toed boots were far too big and would have flopped around on their feet noticeably. Luckily, they had brought some similar boots Ash had found on a looting raid with them in Arthur's bag. They didn't have the steel tips but were a lot less conspicuous than wearing the size elevens. Lastly, they fitted the helmets over their heads. The visors of the helmets completely covered the face and – as Arthur realised when he pulled on his helmet – were tinted to minimise the glare of the sun. The edges of the glass were magnified so if you tilted your head in a certain direction, it had a telescopic effect. Straps on the rear of the helmets ensured that they didn't wobble about too much on Arthur or Ash's head.

‘What do you think?' Arthur asked Ash when she came back from hiding her own jacket behind a thicket of brambles at the base of the wall. Speaking inside the helmet gave him a weird sensation; his voice echoed and it was like hearing himself back on an audio recorder. And it stank of sweat and dog hair.

‘I think that once no one takes a close look at us, we should get away with it.' Her voice, too, sounded muffled behind her helmet. Arthur wondered how the Wolfsguard got any work done at all, it was so difficult to communicate. ‘Are you going to bring the backpack with you?'

He clutched the strap over his shoulder protectively. ‘If anyone asks, I'll just say I found it somewhere in the park,' he said. ‘But don't you think that stick looks suspicious?'

She was holding her long baton in her hand. It was as tall as her and gave the impression that it was just an elongated walking stick.

‘I'll say the same as you. Anyway if someone is close enough to talk to us, I think we'll have bigger problems,' she said, just as unwilling to part with her weapon as Arthur was with his.

‘OK then. Let's go.'

They set off in the direction the wolves had run, towards Áras an Uachtaráin and Loki.

After fifteen minutes of walking, they saw the deer. They had started off across an expanse of green but were quickly forced to turn northwards when the field turned out to be so marshy that they kept sinking into the ground. The northern route was easier – and would take them to the main road that cut through the park, Arthur knew – but the grass here was much higher, making it difficult to walk and impossible to run. Though the air was cooler here than it had been outside in the city – probably due to the ventilation of the break in the clouds, Arthur thought – the sun beamed right down on them, boiling them inside their black uniforms.

They passed the herd of deer grazing in an adjacent field. At first, Arthur was surprised that the escaped animals had made it this far so quickly.

‘They're not from the zoo,' Ash said when he shared his thoughts with her. ‘Deer are native to the park. They're all over the place.'

A stag with impossibly tall antlers looked in their direction, his huge brown eyes staring them down. He stayed in that position for what seemed like forever, standing to attention like a statue, before galloping away. The rest of the herd followed briskly. Arthur stood and watched them go, wondering if they understood what was happening in their park.

They journeyed on, rarely speaking. Arthur's hammer started to weigh heavily on his shoulder and he could have sworn it was pulling his rucksack down more than usual. Even Ash was getting sick of having to raise her stick high enough to clear the long grasses. It was tiring work and Arthur began to wish they'd thought to bring some food or at least some water with them. They found a brambly bush at the edge of a tiny clump of trees, with dark purple berries growing on it. He was sorely tempted to pick a handful of berries and swallow them, but neither he nor Ash knew if they were poisonous and so decided against it. He'd never be able to face Loki with food poisoning. He might end up vomiting all over the Father of Lies. As Arthur chuckled to himself at the thought of it, Ash asked him what was so funny.

‘Just imagine!' he said when he'd told her. ‘Loki's standing there and, all of a sudden, I projectile vomit all over him. Right into his face. All this purple and green stuff. And it just keeps on going!'

Ash giggled along. ‘There'd probably be loads of carrots in there too!'

‘Even though I haven't eaten carrots in weeks!'

As they joked the grass started to get shorter and easier to walk across. Ash pointed out a house to their left: a boxy, grey structure with ivy climbing over the front. The bright-blue door was swinging open in the slight breeze and Arthur guessed the place had been abandoned. They kept going. Moments later, something in the distance caught Arthur's eye.

A lake.

‘Let's take a break there,' he suggested, pointing a gloved finger. ‘The trees around it will give us some cover.'

‘Good idea. I can't believe how parched I am, considering we haven't gone that far! I guess maybe we should have taken off the wetsuits.'

It wasn't the most impressive lake Arthur had ever seen. It was somewhere between a pond and a lake, with an overgrown island off to one side. But, judging by the blackness of the water, it seemed to be deeper than he'd assumed at first glance. The two of them slumped to the ground beside the lake and pulled off their helmets. They were both drenched in sweat, their hair a mess, their cheeks and necks red and blotchy from exertion.

Arthur looked at the water. It seemed clear enough. No algae or fungus grew around the edge so it was probably safe enough to sip. Given the choice and the time, he would have felt happier boiling any impurities out of the water, but he had neither. He took off his backpack, then went and knelt by the water. Ash did likewise.

‘Weird,' she muttered.

‘What?' He joined his two hands in a little cup and dipped them into the lake.

‘The ground all over the park has been bone dry. But here, around the lake, it's soaking.'

As water filled his cupped hands, Arthur looked around. She was right; the ground was wet for about six feet around the edge of the lake, maybe more. He started to wonder how that could have happened when he saw the answer for himself.

Something was in the lake.

Something monstrous.

Something headed their way.

The World Serpent.

‘Move back!' Arthur shouted to Ash, but it was too late. The Jormungand soared out of the lake and straight into the sky. A wave of water crashed into them, sending them toppling backwards. Ash watched in awed terror as the serpent swooped high into the sky then turned and plummeted back to the ground, landing just metres from them. A forked tongue flicked out at her.

She swore loudly; it was the first time Arthur had ever heard her curse.

The serpent looked exactly the same as it had the first time Arthur had come into contact with it. It was about a hundred feet in length and its body was approximately seven feet in diameter at its widest point, narrowing down to a sharpened tail at the end. Scales as large as Arthur's head covered the huge body, shimmering shades of red and green. It had a wing on either side of its frame – great, leathery, ribbed things with a span as wide as the serpent was long. They were flapping slowly now as the creature stared at them. It was perched on four tiny legs that ended in clawed feet and Arthur recalled again the comparison with a T-Rex he had made on their first encounter. Three ridged fins ran along the serpent's head. Its mouth was partly open and Arthur could see the razor-sharp teeth that protruded from its jaws, capable of ripping a man in two. Its eyes were golden slits that watched them closely.

‘OK,' said Arthur in a hushed voice. ‘Just stay calm.'

‘Stay calm! How can I stay calm with that thing looking at us?' Ash shot back, keeping her eyes fixed on the serpent.

‘It might think we're just some Wolfsguard. It might not hurt us.'

‘I don't think it's that easily fooled. Why else would it be foaming at the mouth?'

Ash was right; bubbles of spit fizzed at the corners of its mouth. This didn't look good. The serpent was flicking its tongue in and out, as if getting a taste for its prey.

‘All right then,' said Arthur. ‘On the count of three, we get up and run for it. OK?'

‘Outrun something that can fly?'

‘Do you have a better idea?' snapped Arthur, a little exasperated. He didn't look directly at Ash but could see her shaking her head out of the side of his eye.

‘OK then. One … two …'

Just then, the Jormungand opened its great mouth. A screech burst out of its throat. It was like nails scratching on blackboards, teeth biting into ice and chairs squeaking on tiled floors all rolled into one. They could feel the blast of the soundwave hit them in the face and could see the uvula wobbling violently at the back of the beast's throat.

Arthur turned to Ash and screamed, ‘
Run!
'

They scrambled to their feet as quickly as they could, and scattering chunks of wet earth behind them, started racing over the grass away from the serpent. The Jormungand snorted and took up the pursuit. Arthur didn't dare look around; he kept his eyes focused on the space ahead of them and he concentrated on making his legs move faster, faster, faster, as his bag thumped painfully against his back. He could hear the serpent coming up behind them, its claws pounding into the ground as it ran. Faster, thought Arthur, faster!

‘There!' cried Ash veering to the right. She was heading for a small grove of elm trees at the edge of the field. Arthur turned after her, chancing a glance around at the serpent as he did.

Its legs were too short and its body too massive to keep up with them. Arthur was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the serpent seemed to realise this. It stopped, spread its wings and flapped them strongly, sending gusts of air that washed over Arthur and Ash as they ran. Slowly it lifted itself a few feet off the ground, beating harder and harder until it raised its great bulk into the air. Although this gave Arthur and Ash a good lead on the beast, once airborne it was able to glide rapidly towards them, beating its wings strongly to gather speed. Ash started to look around to see what was happening, but Arthur stopped her.

‘Keep going! Just keep going!!'

His thighs were burning and he felt the beginnings of a cramp in his left calf, but Arthur kept on running. He didn't move his eyes from the clump of trees ahead. The branches were mostly bare, ready and waiting for spring growth. The grass started to get longer again as they approached the trees, but they didn't stop, they didn't falter, they just ran and ran.

As they sped between the trunks, Arthur felt a whoosh of air buffet him. The Jormungand had been forced to turn sharply to avoid slamming into the trees. Once they reached the densest part of the grove, Arthur and Ash stopped running. They bent over to catch their breath and turned back to watch the Jormungand. It had landed again and was glaring at them from beyond the first tree; seeing its prey just out of reach, it roared in frustration. It was too large to fit between the trees, which were packed closely together.

Arthur stood to his full height again, trembling all over. He looked at Ash.

‘What now?' she said between gasps.

He shrugged, rubbing the oncoming cramp out of his calf. Suddenly the branches overhead clattered violently, like they'd been caught in a high wind. They looked back at the World Serpent to see it shaking its head, dazed. Then it took a few steps back from the trees before running right into them. The beast was attempting to reach them by battering its way through the trees. After just two blows, a handful of trees at the edge of the grove had already been half pulled up by their roots. A third blow would fell them. Arthur watched as the serpent took a few more steps back for its run-up and then turned to Ash.

‘If it keeps going like this, it'll have knocked all these trees down in minutes. We have to do something!'

The trees at the edge of the grove collapsed to the ground with heavy thuds. The serpent screeched triumphantly; only four or five trees stood between them and it now.

‘Look!' cried Ash, pointing over Arthur's shoulder.

Just beyond the clump of trees, behind the serpent, stood a stag. Arthur couldn't be sure it was the one they'd seen earlier, but part of him felt that it had to be. It stood straight and powerful, its antlers cutting a striking silhouette against the bright sky, its deep-brown eyes watching them.

The deer grunted loudly – a sound Arthur recognised from nature documentaries. The Jormungand turned its head and stared at the creature. The stag made the huffing sound again, as if challenging the serpent, then bolted off in the opposite direction. The Jormungand swivelled around on its tiny legs, distracted from its original quarry, and started off across the field, chasing its new prey.

Arthur gripped Ash's shoulders urgently. ‘We need to move.'

‘But where–?'

‘The house we passed a few minutes ago.'

‘What about Loki? The Áras?'

‘We can't do anything about Loki if the serpent kills us.' This was no time for conversation – the Jormungand could come back any second – so Arthur tore off in the direction of the house. Ash was only a millisecond behind.

As they ran back across the field, there was no sign of the Jormungand. They could hear rustling and roars which seemed to be coming from a nearby chunk of scrubland, but it seemed far enough away for them to relax a bit. Arthur's calf was still tight so he was glad not to have to sprint as fast as they had only moments before. They were more than halfway across the field and could see the rooftop of the house when–

Roar!

The bellow came from behind them. They stopped and turned to see the Jormungand standing at the far edge of the thicket, screeching up at the sky. They could see fresh blood dripping from its jaws. It spat something onto the ground. The stag that had saved them, limp and lifeless, its body ripped to gory shreds. Arthur and Ash were transfixed with horror as the serpent put one leg on the stag's body, tore half the carcass away and gulped it down. Then it swung its head around and settled its gaze on them once more.

Without another word, Arthur and Ash started running again and the World Serpent quickly resumed its pursuit, soaring on its great wings a few feet above the ground. Arthur could feel his legs shuddering as he moved, the muscles and ligaments wrenching from the effort. Nausea churned his stomach, telling him to stop or throw up.

But the Jormungand's flapping was growing ever closer.

We'll never make it, he told himself, we'll never make it.

He wanted it to be over; he wanted to give up.

But he couldn't.

He thought of his friends, of Ash, of her family, of his family.

He thought of the world.

He couldn't give up.

A tarmac road led up to the house and they headed towards it. A few more seconds; just a few more seconds till they reached the front door.

Keep going, keep going.

Just a few more seconds.

Arthur's feet touched the tarmac.

And Ash fell.

She tripped on a little hillock of earth and cried out as she crashed to her knees. Arthur turned, just in time to see the Jormungand slam down and loom over her. Before he could react the beast had dug its jaws into the earth around Ash, snapped them shut and swallowed her whole.

Time seemed to stop for Arthur. He was rooted to the spot as a wave of terror, grief and rage rose in him. The Jormungand's screeching broke him out of the trance. He turned and sprinted the rest of the way to the house, his feet beating on the tarmac while angry and frustrated tears blurred his vision.

The World Serpent – temporarily sated by its second meal in as many minutes – waited a few moments before chasing after him. By the time it did move, Arthur was up the steps leading to the grey house. He fell through the door and kicked it shut behind him.

And then he curled into a ball and cried. Fitful, exhausted, breathless tears.

She was gone. Ash was gone. Dead. Swallowed by the Jormungand.

And he was trapped.

By the time he heard the serpent's claws scratching on the tarmac outside, his head ached from crying. He whimpered as the beast pulled itself up the steps to the door. It screeched that terrible shriek, shaking the door on its hinges and shaking Arthur into action.

He leapt to his feet. He wouldn't just give up. Ash wouldn't have wanted that. She would have wanted him to keep going, to fight, to save her family.

He looked around properly for the first time. He was in the entrance hall and a staircase led upstairs directly in front of him. Whatever the building was intended for originally, it had obviously been used as offices in recent years. It was a large old house with high ceilings and narrow windows. He raced up the staircase, the wooden steps creaking with each footfall. Behind him, the Jormungand crashed into the doorway. But the old door was stronger than it looked and barely shuddered at the blow.

At the top of the stairs Arthur found himself on a long, narrow landing that ran back to the front of the house. There were doors on both sides and a window at the far end, covered with a muslin blind. He ran to it and ripped down the blind. It was an ancient double-hung window with two sliding panes, one on top and one below. The glossy white paint on the frames was thick with old layers. He grabbed the bottom of the lower pane and tried to push it up. It resisted, stiff with age, but a couple of side-fisted punches soon loosened it. He slid it all the way to the top and locked it in place, then leaned out the window.

The World Serpent was right below him, lining up to race at the door again. When it did, the force of the blow shook the windowsill Arthur was leaning on. The Jormungand stepped back once more, taking a moment before battering again.

As Arthur stared at the monster he experienced a sudden blurring in his vision. Suddenly he could see the serpent for what it really was–