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Authors: Darren Shan

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‘It is a hostile, threatening environment, and I would like each one of you to think carefully about it before deciding whether or not to accept
this assignment. No,’ he adds as Rage starts to speak. ‘I do not want your answer now. Rest on the matter overnight and give it serious consideration. If you accept, you will not have to leave until morning. You can let me know your verdict then.’

The others file out of the room, trying to act sombre, even though they’re wild with glee inside. There’s not a chance that any of them will
turn down this opportunity to get out of the city. But I suppose we have to go through the motions to keep Dr Oystein happy.

I don’t retire with the rest of my group. I want to ask the doc something. He sees that I have a question and nods for me to stay behind as Zhang, Emma and Declan slip out. He sits in his chair again and beckons me forward.

‘How have you been?’ he asks.

‘Fine.’

The doc hasn’t been here a lot over the last few weeks. He has a secret lab somewhere, and spends a lot of his time there, working on ways to wipe out the undead hordes.

‘I wanted to ask you about the babies,’ I mutter. ‘You haven’t said anything about them since you got back.’

Dr Oystein makes a small sighing noise. ‘There is not much that I can tell you at the moment. There
are things I am considering. I do not like to keep secrets, but it is a case of deciding how much information I think it is fitting to share with you – or any of the other Angels – right now.’

He crosses his legs and studies me closely. ‘I am still troubled by the fact that you dreamt of the babies when you were alive, and that Owl Man knew of your dreams. I have been researching ways
in which I might induce a sleep-like state in a revitalised.’

I frown. ‘I thought we could never sleep again.’

‘I thought so too,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘And that may well be the case. It is not something I ever gave much thought to, since it seemed a trivial issue. But I would be keen to find out if you could still have the dreams, and if we could learn anything from them.

‘I have started
to experiment. It might lead nowhere, and even if it does, there is no way of telling how long it will take before I am successful. But if I can find a way to make you sleep, would you be prepared to brave your nightmares again in an attempt to explore them further?’

‘I would if you’ll tell me what you know about the babies,’ I reply.

‘That sounds like a fair deal,’ he smiles. ‘I promise
to reveal all before you agree to any tests, assuming we get that far.’

Dr Oystein stands and stretches. ‘Come, I am heading to my laboratory here, and I would like you to accompany me some of the way.’

I fall in beside him. ‘You know, if you can find a way for me to sleep, the other Angels will want to snooze too. Time drags when we’re awake all night. This could be one of your more
popular inventions, up there with the Groove Tubes.’

‘You think so?’ Dr Oystein looks surprised. ‘I had not realised it was that important. I know lack of sleep is a nuisance, but I had not thought it a serious handicap. Perhaps I should have turned my mind to the matter sooner. I will give it all of the attention that I can over the next few –’


Demon!
’ someone screams and we both jump
with alarm.

I look up and spot Mr Burke in the corridor. He has a face like thunder and he’s holding a gun. As I stare at him, bewildered, he bellows ‘
Demon!
’ again. Then he raises the gun, aims at us and opens fire.

SIX

Dr Oystein and I throw ourselves to opposite sides of the corridor. It’s what I was taught to do by Master Zhang in a situation like this. It means the gunman has to swivel and set his sights on just one person.

Burke focuses on Dr Oystein. He keeps firing as he strides forward, screaming ‘
Demon!
’ over and over, as if it’s the only word he knows.

‘Stop!’ I roar, racing towards
him, waving my arms, trying to draw him away from Dr Oystein. The doc is dodging the bullets as best he can, moving with surprising speed for a guy his age.

Burke ignores me and keeps on firing. His eyes are wild. Spit flies from his lips every time he roars. Even in the heat of the moment I feel a stab of envy. You can’t produce proper spit when you’re a zombie. My mouth has been a dry,
stale hole ever since I came back to life.

I close on Burke and he swings his arm round. He starts to fire, but pauses when he sees that it’s me. A desperate expression shoots across his face. He adjusts his aim slightly and shoots at the floor ahead of me, trying to scare me off.

But I don’t scare easily. I keep on coming. Burke’s features harden and he whirls away, closer to the wall,
searching for a clear shot at Dr Oystein. He fires again. There’s a cry of pain as one of the bullets strikes home. I don’t look back to check on the doc. There isn’t time.

‘Stop!’ I yell again as I come within striking distance of the man who was once my favourite teacher.


Demon!
’ Burke retorts, steadying his arm, taking careful aim.

I want to calm him down and talk this through,
but there’s no time. If I don’t stop him, he’s going to kill Dr Oystein. In a panic, I swing at his gun hand and swat the weapon away. Burke cries out with pain and stumbles after his lost weapon. Then he comes to a halt and stares at the fingers which a second before had been holding the gun.

I pulled my punch as much as I could. I knew the dangers of direct contact and tried to avoid it, so that I could subdue Burke and try to find out what’s wrong with him. But you can’t always strike accurately in a fight, not when your opponent has a gun and is about to kill one of your team.

I knocked the gun from Burke’s hand. But a couple of the bones sticking out of my fingers
scratched his palm.

Burke stares at the wounds, his eyes bulging. They’re minor scrapes. A kitten could have done more damage. But Burke hasn’t been scratched by a cat. He’s been scratched by a zombie. And the infectious nick of a monster like me is death to a human like him.

‘I’m sorry!’ I scream, thrusting my hands behind my back, as if I can undo what I’ve done. ‘I didn’t mean to.
I only wanted to knock away the gun. Why didn’t you stop firing when I told you?’

Burke stares at me, his cheeks puffing in and out. There are tears in his eyes. He clutches the injured hand to his chest and falls to his knees. Shakes his head and moans pitifully.

Master Zhang races into the corridor, followed by some Angels. His eyes dart from Burke to me to Dr Oystein, taking in everything
in an instant. ‘Are you in control of the situation?’ he barks.

I can’t answer.

‘Becky Smith!’ he snaps. ‘Are you in control?’

‘Yes,’ I say hoarsely, my training kicking in as I take a firmer stance, ready to stop Burke if he makes another grab for the gun.

‘Oystein,’ Zhang shouts, racing past me. ‘Are you injured?’

‘Only winged,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘One of the bullets struck
my shoulder. I will be all right.’

I don’t look back. I stay focused on Burke. He’s crying openly now. He holds out his injured hand to me and whispers something.

‘What was that?’ I moan, expecting him to say ‘
Demon!
’ again. But this time it’s different.


Dowling
,’ Burke croaks through his tears, and I go cold inside as I start to piece together what has happened.

I sit beside
the damned Billy Burke, the man who saved me in the underground complex, who has helped take care of me since I came to County Hall, who was always a good friend and trusted teacher, the man I would have chosen for a father if I could. I wrap my arms round him and pull him close, like a mother nursing her baby.

‘It’s OK,’ I tell him as he starts to quiver uncontrollably. ‘I’m with you. I’ll
look out for you. It won’t be long now. The pain will pass.’

‘Dowling,’ Burke says again, sobbing into the fabric of my T-shirt.

‘I know,’ I shush him. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll track him down. I’ll make that bastard pay.’

Burke starts shaking his head and tries to say something else. But before he can, his body rattles. His head flies back and his eyelids snap open and shut, time and time
again. There’s a creaking noise as the bones in his fingers and toes start to push out, tearing through the flesh. His lips peel back as his teeth lengthen and thicken into fangs.

Master Zhang returns and stands over the pair of us. He looks furious but sad at the same time. I don’t know if he was friends with Burke – I’m not sure that Zhang has any real friends – but he respected the
ex-teacher.

I clutch Burke tight and whisper in his ear, trying to make this as comfortable for him as I can, even though I know his brain has already shut down, that he can’t understand anything I’m saying.

‘B,’ Zhang says quietly. I glance up at him. He extends his right hand, the fingers hooked, and raises a questioning eyebrow, asking if I want him to put the transforming human out
of his misery.

I start to nod, then recall something and shake my head, angry at myself for almost forgetting such a crucial factor. ‘No! He got Dr Oystein to vaccinate him. He wanted the chance of revitalising if he was ever infected.’

‘There is little hope of that,’ Zhang says icily. ‘Adults almost never revitalise. And after what he did today, I am not sure he deserves such consideration.’

I think about defending Burke, but I know that won’t wash with my stern mentor. So I take a sly approach instead. ‘As unlikely as it is, if he recovers consciousness, we can find out why he did this, punish whoever put him up to it.’

Zhang purses his lips, thinks about that, then nods curtly. ‘I will prepare a room and we will keep him captive. Guard him until it is ready—I do not want
him to target Ciara or Reilly.’

As Zhang turns to check on Dr Oystein, Burke falls impossibly still. Impossible if you’re a human, that is. Perfectly possible if you’re a zombie.

Burke tries to rise but I pull him down. He doesn’t resist. While Master Zhang and the other Angels tend to Dr Oystein, I gently rock the undead teacher and go on speaking to him, mourning his loss while at
the same time begging his forgiveness for having been the one who killed him.

SEVEN

Dr Oystein waves away Master Zhang’s help and rushes down the corridor, calling his Angels to arms, demanding all entrances be secured and the building searched for intruders. I remain with Burke’s revived corpse as everyone else races round in a panic. Nobody’s sure if there’s an army outside, ready to break down the doors, or if Burke acted by himself.

Finally the doctor
and Master Zhang return. Dr Oystein hasn’t changed clothes or bandaged his wound. There’s a small web of thick blood spreading slowly from a hole in his left shoulder. He winces as he squats beside me, but otherwise ignores his injury.

‘I am sorry,’ he says softly as he examines the newly created zombie. ‘Billy was a good man. He deserved better than this.’

‘He was vaccinated,’ I remind
the doctor. ‘He might revitalise.’

‘I will pray for him,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘And we will guard him safely and keep him fed and comfortable.’

‘For how long?’ I ask.

‘As long as you wish,’ he says, then gently prises Burke away from me and helps him to his feet. As the zombie looks around blankly, Dr Oystein asks one of the Angels to take him to a nearby room and lock him away. ‘We
will sort out more fitting accommodation for him later,’ he vows.

‘What the hell happened?’ Zhang snarls as the walking dead teacher is led away. ‘Why did he want to kill you?’

‘I do not know,’ Dr Oystein murmurs. ‘He was calling me a demon, but I have no idea what I could have done to enrage him.’

‘I don’t think it had anything to do with you,’ I sigh. ‘He said something else when
I was holding him, just before he died. He said . . .
Dowling
.’

Dr Oystein tenses. Zhang looks furious.

‘You think Mr Dowling was behind this?’ Zhang snaps.

‘He must have been. Otherwise why would Mr Burke have tried to warn me about him?’

‘Oystein?’ Zhang asks. ‘Did you hear Burke mention the clown’s name?’

‘No,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘But I am sure that B is right. That must have
been what happened. Billy was our friend. He would not have tried to assassinate me out of the blue. My guess, based on what B has said, is that Mr Dowling injected Billy with some sort of drug which scrambled his senses, then programmed him to turn against me.’

‘He couldn’t have done that,’ I frown. ‘I saw him just a while ago.’

‘Mr Dowling?’ Dr Oystein gasps, eyes widening with fear.

‘No. Mr Burke. He was with Rage and me in the East End. We left him to come back here. We stopped to play football. Then you summoned us and we came in. There can’t have been time for him to be brainwashed.’

Dr Oystein rubs the area around his wound and looks thoughtful. ‘That is strange. With time, a man of Mr Dowling’s resources could turn any one of us, but I am not aware of a drug
which could make a puppet of a man so quickly. Then again, Mr Dowling has access to chemicals that most people know nothing about. Perhaps it is something he developed himself. Either way, this is a worrying development, something new that we have to be wary of. I will investigate it further, flush out Billy’s system, try to unlock the mysteries of the drug from whatever traces it has left
behind.

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