Desolation (47 page)

“So there might be one left,” said Virgil. “Unless anyone saw anything else? No? You’re sure?” He sighed. “Okay then, so we possibly have one more Hound at large.”

“And the Narrow Man,” said Javier.

“And him, yes. Plus the fact that it is barely midnight, and Hell Night has just got started. I think we can all agree to stay here and keep our heads down, yes? Sunrise is a little before five. If we can hide here until then, we shall all see the morning.”

“What if the Hound comes for me?” Amber asked.

“The Hounds can be stopped,” said Milo. “We’ve seen that.”

“They can be stopped by overwhelming force,” Amber responded. “A gang of demons will stop one of them. A load of guns will stop one of them. We don’t have either.”

“But we have each other,” said Warrick. When everyone frowned at him, he wilted. “Sorry. I wasn’t listening. What are we talking about?”

“Goddammit,” Ronnie said from the window. “He’s found us.”

There was a scramble as everyone went to look. Everyone except Virgil. And Javier.

Ignoring Javier for the moment, Virgil addressed the others. “The Narrow Man?”

“Walking up the middle of the road towards us,” said Linda, being very careful not to move the curtain. “Like he’s out for a midnight stroll.”

“Can he see us?” Warrick asked. “I feel like he can see us.”

“But Hell Night has already started,” said Kelly. “Why is he coming after us?”

“We got his boss killed,” said Amber. “Maybe he’s loyal.” Her voice brightened. “So maybe we don’t have to fight him. Maybe, if we tell him who actually killed Jesper, he’ll go after my parents.”

“He’s after me,” Austin said softly. They looked at him. He swallowed. “When he took me, he said the town had decided. He said whoever gets the most votes has to die.”

“But the vote doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

“It does to him,” said Virgil.

Milo loaded his gun. “We’ll stop him.”

“I should run,” Austin said.

“You’re staying with us,” said Ronnie.

“Hey, hey,” said Linda, “we have another development.”

Now Virgil could hear it – an approaching motorcycle.

“Oh great,” said Warrick. “We get the Narrow Man and the last Hound? Seriously? At the same time? We’re done. Game over, man. Game over.”

Ronnie frowned. “Where’d the Narrow Man go?”

“He’s hiding,” said Kelly. “Jesus. The Hound scared him away.”

“Everyone down,” Milo said, and Virgil watched them all move smoothly away from the window. A single headlight washed by, and the sound of the bike slowly peaked and started to recede.

Amber frowned. “Is he slowing down?”

“He could be getting more attuned to the town,” said Milo. “If that’s the case, he might be closing in on your location.”

“Could you just chill?” Warrick asked. “He’s riding away, isn’t he? He has no idea you’re here, Amber. None.”

Then the bike got louder again. The Hound had swung round.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Warrick.

Then the sound of the bike cut off.

In the distance, gunfire and car alarms.

Linda crawled to the window, peeked out.

“See anything?” Ronnie asked.

“The bike,” she whispered. “Ah shit. He’s on foot.”

The tension in the house twisted up another few notches. Only Milo seemed unperturbed.

Virgil beckoned to Austin and Austin came over. Virgil clamped his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “No matter what happens,” he said, “you stay by my side, you understand? You do not run off. The only time you run off is when I either tell you to or I’m too dead to tell you. You got that?”

“Yes, sir,” said Austin.

Two began to growl.

Milo put his finger to his lips, and walked slowly to the front door, his gun held in a two-handed grip. He stopped before it, stood there, then reached out to open it.

The door flew off its hinges and crashed into him, he went down, the gun went flying, and the Hound stepped over him as casually as a man steps over a dog sleeping on his porch.

Amber became a demon again and she let out a roar and ran at him, and the Hound caught her by the throat and took her off her feet, slamming her into the wall. He took a step back and swung her into the opposite wall. The others ran to help, but Virgil backed away, keeping Austin behind him. His heart beat a dangerous rhythm that sent darts of pain shooting along his left arm. His knees buckled and he would have fallen if it wasn’t for Austin, keeping him upright.

He shook his head, unable to speak, and clutched Austin’s shoulder. He could see through to the kitchen. Kelly crouched there, holding out her arm. Virgil nodded, pushed Austin in her direction. Austin hesitated, but the shouts and the crashes spurred him on.

While the heroes fought the Hound, Virgil struggled to draw breath. He saw Milo charging the Hound from behind. Saw Warrick go down and Linda getting back to her feet. Saw Javier in the corner, looking startled at all the violence.

It was clear that the Hound wasn’t going to be beaten. Ronnie was already unconscious, or worse, and now Milo joined him.

“Hey!” Amber shouted.

The carnage paused.

“You’re after me, aren’t you?” Amber continued. She had claws for hands. Virgil didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed that before. “Then come on. One last chase, asshole.”

And she turned and jumped straight through the window.

It was an impressive exit, and in response the Hound threw Milo down and strode to the door. For a wonderful moment, Virgil thought he was going to follow her – but he stopped, and turned back, and Virgil had the sneakiest suspicion that he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Why give chase, after all, when he could make his target come to him?

The Hound pressed a fingernail to his wrist and sliced. Blood flowed, dripping from his forearm in a steady stream, and he walked in a circle around Milo.

“Hey,” said Javier, “what’s he doing? Hey, you! Stop doing that!”

The Hound easily ignored the shouts of an old man, and when the circle was complete the blood began to steam, and then it caught fire—

—and in that instant both Milo and the Hound disappeared.

“Amber!” Linda screamed. “Get back here!”

Virgil forced himself to stand. It wasn’t over yet.

Amber ran back in. “Where is he? Where the hell is he?”

“He disappeared,” said Javier. “He took Milo with him. Just disappeared.”

Amber stared at him for a long moment. “Shit,” she said, and bolted. Virgil heard her kicking open the door to the garage.

Linda limped over to Ronnie and checked his pulse and Two ran over to Warrick, started licking his face.

“I’m okay, boy,” Warrick mumbled. “I’m okay.”

Amber ran back in, tugging the stopper out of a large leather pouch. She poured a circle of black powder around herself, then threw down the pouch and tapped her pockets. “A match!” she shouted. “Something!”

Warrick pushed himself up on to his elbow and dug a hand into his pocket. Coins and tissues and lint fell as he tossed her a cheap lighter. Amber caught it, flicked it, put the lighter to the powder and the powder went up, the fire looping in both directions, and she straightened as they met and then she disappeared.

Warrick blinked. “Everyone saw that, right?”

Linda folded her jacket, put it under Ronnie’s head. “How’s everyone else? Javier?”

“I’m good,” said Javier. “But Virgil looks like he’s having a heart attack.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said gruffly.

“Kelly,” said Linda, “how about you?”

From the far corner, Kelly groaned and Virgil’s eyes widened.

His legs were numb, his feet dead weights, but he forced himself to walk, to hurry to the kitchen. The back door stood open. He plunged into the cold night air, managed to get to the gate in his fence without toppling over. The gate swung open and he stayed there for a moment, breathing, then plunged onwards.

On the trail behind his house, he saw Austin being led away by someone who looked just like Kelly. But of course she wasn’t wearing Kelly’s clothes. Virgil had missed that the first time.

“Austin!” he shouted. “Run!”

The Narrow Man, still wearing Kelly’s face, whipped his head round and Austin took that moment to tear free of his grip and run into the woods.

The thing-that-wasn’t-Kelly looked at Virgil, gave him a smile, and followed the boy.

A
MBER HAD BEEN HERE BEFORE
.

Astaroth’s castle, with walls of stone that reached high beyond the wooden rafters, high into the darkness and the emptiness above. Here, the cold air danced to the distant symphony of screams and sobbing that rattled the stained-glass windows, in which each scene was another depiction of the depraved, the wanton, the butchered. Tapestries hung from those stone walls, different from those she had seen last time she had been here. Terrible splendours, new and fresh and eager to offend in their explicit extravagance.

No welcoming committee this time. No sign of the ungendered thing called Fool. Perhaps her arrival had gone unnoticed. She hoped so. This castle was one of many in the kingdom over which the Blood-dimmed King ruled, and as such it had its rules which could not be bent, bypassed or broken. It struck Amber that hell, no matter its faults and its cruelties, was at the very least honest. She wondered if heaven was half as trustworthy.

One of the rules for visitors, and this was the rule that had been repeated to her the most, was that she should never, under any circumstances, step outside the circle. Ever.

So Amber took a deep breath, and stepped out of the circle.

When the walls didn’t come crashing down upon her and she wasn’t immediately cast down into the fiery pits, she hurried through the first doorway, and found herself in a winding corridor with narrow windows on one side. Beneath a coal-black sky, and across a forest of twisting, clutching, grasping trees, a vast city rose from the horizon. There was a palace at the centre of that city – she could see it from here. She could even appreciate the beauty found in its sharp edges and sinister angles. The palace of the Blood-dimmed King, no doubt.

The corridor split into three directions, but only one was wide enough for her to comfortably fit. Even so, as she made her way through, her shoulders began tipping off the walls, again and again, until she was moving sideways, then grimacing and squeezing further.

There was an opening ahead. She just had to squeeze a little more. Just a little …

And then she was stuck.

The wall in front crushed against her belly and chest. The wall behind crushed against her ass. She could extend her left arm out into the opening, but she couldn’t even turn her head without jamming her horns. It was hard to breathe. Amber tried to suck her belly in, but she had no purchase with which to move. She couldn’t go forward or back. Panic began to claw at her mind.

“Hello,” said a voice.

Her eyes widened. “Fool? Fool, is that you?”

A silhouette appeared in the gap ahead. “Caught,” said Fool. “If the Master knew it’d be this easy, he wouldn’t have sent the Hounds after you. All he needed was a tight space.”

“Help me.”

“Why?”

“I’m stuck.”

“No – why would I help you?”

She did her best to smile. “Because … because I’ll help you in return. I’ll take you away from here.”

“Away?”

“I’ll bring you back with me.”

“Away from here? But the castle is my home.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. But first get me out of here.”

“Hmmm,” said Fool. “I don’t know. You’re a tricky one, Amber Lamont. You gave me Edgar Spurrier and told me it was Gregory Buxton.”

“I’m sorry about that, I really am.”

“The Master was not pleased with me. The Master punished me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“The Master did not want Edgar Spurrier. He let me have him. I changed him. He wouldn’t stop talking so I gave him a new name. He is Bigmouth now.”

“Edgar
did
talk a lot.”

“It’s nice,” said Fool. “Having a pet is nice.”

“I’m glad you like him,” Amber said. “It’s always good when people enjoy their presents.”

“Bigmouth was a present? For me?”

“Of course,” said Amber. “And you like him, don’t you?”

“Bigmouth is ever so much fun!”

“Good,” said Amber. “I’m so glad. But you owe me now. You get that, right? I brought Bigmouth here for you, and now you have to repay the favour. That’s how presents work. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Take my hand, Fool. Pull me out.”

Fool’s hands closed around Amber’s and she was pulled and tugged and she didn’t budge.

“Come closer,” she said. “Closer.”

When Fool was close enough, she grabbed what clothes she could and pulled. Fool made some strangled noises, but she was dragging herself through now, inch by inch, and then she pushed Fool back, reached over with her other arm, gripped the edge of the wall and kept going. Her head was out. She gasped and sucked in a breath and heaved again and stumbled out into the corridor beyond.

“Holy crap,” she said, raking her claws through her hair. “Holy crap.”

She got herself back under control as Fool stood. The patchwork robe it wore was torn where she’d grabbed it.