Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant (12 page)

Her breathing was ragged, but back under her control as she dropped from the last seat. The tunnel lay ahead, opening out on the other side to a view of magnificent green countryside. She ran for it. She could lose him in the fields, or the trees, or even swim a river to get away. She could flag down a car on the road. She could pick up a rock and smash his brains in. Once she got through that tunnel, she could do a lot of things.

She was halfway through when there was a rattle and a rumble, and a gate began to lower. It was one of those old latticed gates, the kind that protected medieval castles. It was waist-height as Valkyrie neared, and she had to throw herself down and roll beneath it, springing up immediately on the other side.

Her pursuer shot his arm through the gate, but she was well out of reach.

She looked round, hands behind her head, sucking in air and gearing up for the next run. She was standing in a large makeshift car park that pushed back the countryside as far as it would go. Hills of green rolled like frozen waves towards the horizon. To her left was a forest that spread unchecked, enveloping everything within reach, and to her right were houses in the distance. She counted seven, isolated from each other on the sides of the hills. But for all Valkyrie knew there was a town beyond that clump of trees, or a village hidden by that hedgerow.

“Don’t go too far,” the man behind her said. “We’ll get you soon enough.”

She took off at a quick jog, following the trail that led away from the car park. She could hear Skulduggery’s voice in her head, telling her to stay off the path, telling her that was making herself an easy target. But the trail would lead to a road, Valkyrie knew, and a road would mean cars, and other people.

She took the trail downhill, where it evened out and became a small road. She turned the jog into a run. The road joined another, and as she approached a tractor passed. She waved but the driver didn’t see her, and it was round the next bend before she reached the junction. She took off after it, wishing she had something with which to tie her hair back. She didn’t like running with it loose.

The tractor was ahead of her, trundling on its way. It was old and, by the look of it, ran primarily on rust. It didn’t have any wing mirrors, so Valkyrie’s frantic waves were going unnoticed. She had to slow, she had to, and she glared at the tractor as it trundled on.

She heard another engine, a car or a van, coming from behind, and had visions of the van the men had been driving when they’d grabbed her. She was about to jump into the ditch when a blue sedan came round the corner and stopped sharply. The woman behind the wheel stared at her, then opened the door and stepped out.

“Are you OK?” the woman asked. She was about sixty, with short grey hair.

“Two men are chasing me. I need to get away.”

The woman waved her hand at the passenger side. “Get in.”

Valkyrie did as she was told, and buckled up as the woman put the car in gear.

“What happened?” the woman asked as they overtook the tractor and sped on. “Who’s chasing you?”

What was Valkyrie going to say? Was she going to tell the truth? Of course not. “Bad men,” she said. “They kidnapped me, brought me here. I got away, but they’re chasing me. I have to get back to my friends. They’ll be able to help.”

“What’s your name?”

“Valkyrie,” she said without thinking.

“Valkyrie… what an unusual name. I’m Grace. I’m not from around here, so you’re going to have to tell me where to go.”

“I don’t even know where we are.”

“I think we’re in Kildare. I’m so sorry, I’m kind of lost.”

“Do you have a phone? They took mine.”

Grace winced apologetically. “I have, but the battery’s run out, and I left the car charger at home. I think the best thing we can do is just head for the nearest town.” She took a right turn. “I passed one about five minutes ago.”

Valkyrie frowned. “We’re going back?”

“Not the same way. I think this road loops around.”

“I really think we should be getting as far away from here as possible.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. There’s no one about.”

“I don’t think you’re getting how serious this is. They’re not going to just let me
escape
.” Valkyrie frowned. “Are you sure we’re not headed back on the exact same road we were on? This looks familiar.”

“Oh, no,” said Grace, “I’m quite sure. Why are you looking at me like that? You seem almost… Oh, my. You think I know those men, don’t you? You think I’m bringing you back to them?”

“Let me out,” said Valkyrie. “Let me out right—”

The van reared up at Grace’s window and swerved into them, and there was a crunch of metal and the world spun and Grace was screaming. The car dipped sickeningly and hit something and the air bags rushed out, knocking Valkyrie’s head back.

Suddenly it was still. The engine was running, but they weren’t moving.

Valkyrie opened her eyes. She heard Grace moan, and started to push the air bag down. They were in a ditch. Her thumb clicked the seat-belt release catch, and she reached for the door, but it wouldn’t open. She moved her head, looking back at Grace. There was movement outside. Someone was opening the driver-side door.

“Help,” Grace said softly.

The man reached in and took hold of Grace’s head, and he twisted until her neck broke. Then he looked over at Valkyrie.

“Told you we’d get you,” he said.

They dragged her to the cell and this time they didn’t take their attention off her. The man with the keys opened the iron door and his companion threw her inside.

Valkyrie stumbled in. Her foot hit something and she fell. The door shut and darkness swarmed. She stayed very still, on her hands and knees, and listened for the beast, but she could only hear her own breathing.

Moving slowly, she tracked her hand back to whatever she’d tripped over. There was a cold metal ring bolted to the middle of the floor, and a thick chain led from it and snaked towards the far right corner of the cell.

Valkyrie moved backwards, wincing every time she made a sound. She got to the door, her foot loud against the iron. After waiting a moment to make sure this hadn’t roused the beast to attack, she crawled sideways to her left, sat back into the corner, and pulled her knees into her chest.

She held her hand in front of her face and couldn’t even see movement. The ground was smooth, with no rocks to use as weapons.

She still couldn’t hear the beast. Had they been lying? Toying with her? She thought of Grace and the sound her neck had made, and she folded her arms across her chest and brought her knees in closer. She was starting to shake. It was freezing in here and the adrenaline had worn off. She felt the panic rise, from her belly to her throat, and bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry. They could have a camera on her right now, and she wasn’t going to cry. She did her best to close down her mind, but one thought slipped through, and that was all it took.

I wish Skulduggery were here.

Her face crumpled and tears came, and she lowered her head and cried.

When there were no more tears to fall, Valkyrie wiped her eyes. She was fairly certain she was alone in the cell. Anything that hadn’t been woken when she’d been thrown in would surely have stirred since then. So they’d been playing little games with her. She wasn’t food for anything. So what, then? Was she to be used as leverage against the Sanctuary? She doubted Grand Mage Thurid Guild would negotiate too much over her fate.

“Hello,” said a voice.

Valkyrie cursed in fright and pressed herself back into the corner, widening her eyes to try and distinguish shapes in the dark.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice assured her. It sounded like the voice of a young man. “Probably.”

“Who are you?” Valkyrie asked, her voice loud and harsh.

The voice was smooth and quiet. “I’m Caelan. This is my cell. You’re sitting in my favourite corner, you know. Switching corners every few days is the only thing that makes life bearable in this place. Keeps things fresh.”

She frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. You can have it.”

“What’s happening?”

“They haven’t told you? Usually, they tell people.”

“They just said I was going to be food.”

She could almost sense him nodding.

“So they
have
told you. But technically you wouldn’t be food. You’d be drink.”

Valkyrie went cold. “You’re a vampire.”

“Aha,” he said slowly. “You must be a sorcerer, then? Don’t suppose you could use your magic to get us out of here?”

She held her hands up in the dark. “These shackles are bound. I can’t use magic.”

“Ah. It was a nice idea while it lasted. What’s your name?”

“Valkyrie. Valkyrie Cain.”

“You say it like that name is supposed to mean something to me.”

“I work with Skulduggery Pleasant.”

“The Skeleton Detective,” Caelan said. “Now, him I
have
heard about. I heard he was gone, though. Sucked into another dimension or something equally stupid.”

“He is. I’m going to get him back.”

There was a moment’s silence. “And you’re doing a wonderful job of that.”

She glared at the darkness. “So what about you? What are you doing here?”

“Right now? Right now I’m on hunger strike.”

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. It’s going pretty well so far, but I always falter around dinnertime…”

“What are you striking about?” asked Valkyrie.

“I don’t want to play their game any more. Have you seen the arena? The pit?”

“Yes.”

“Every Friday night,” said Caelan, “we’re taken to the pit and we’re made to fight each other.”

“
We?
”

“The others like me, in the other cells.”

“Vampire pit fights?”

“Not just vampires. All sorts of creatures. It draws a crowd. Of course, I’m not allowed to change fully. The beast I’d become would rip apart anything it faced, and where’s the fun in that? So they give me a half-dose of serum to trap me halfway through the change. For the sport. If I win, I’m taken back here and before my next fight I’m thrown a morsel to keep my strength up. You are said morsel. If I lose, I’m dead. Real dead, not just vampire dead.”

“So you’re not drinking my blood because…?”

“They want me strong when they put me into the pit. That’s the only way the crowd will be satisfied. Who wants to pay to see a starving vampire flail at a zombie or a bridge troll? If I don’t eat, they won’t put me in the pit. I’ve been here three months, and I’m not going to do it any more.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Valkyrie.

“You really don’t want to be talking me out of this, you know. I’ve been draining every person they throw in here. You’re lucky today’s the day I’ve changed my mind.”

“Who are they? The men who do this?”

“You mean are they sorcerers?” asked Caelan. “They are not. They’re mortals who know more than they should. Those shackles binding your power are just one of the things they’ve picked up over the years. Everything they have is scavenged. The big one’s Bruno. I don’t know the name of the smaller one.

“As far as I can tell, the whole thing is run by a man who calls himself the Promoter. And the audience that gathers every week? Mortals, also. They keep all this a secret from the press to prevent the Sanctuary from noticing them and sorting them out. I’ve come to the conclusion that mortals are far worse than any vampire or sorcerer.”

“What’ll happen when they realise I’m still alive?”

“If I don’t feed on you, they’re going to give you to someone who will. What day is it today?”

“Thursday.”

“Then you’ll be dead by tomorrow night.”

Valkyrie didn’t say anything to that.

She didn’t have anything to say for the next four hours, either. She was cold, and getting colder, and she was hungry, and she had other needs.

“I have to pee,” she called out.

For a moment there was just darkness and silence.

“Well,” Caelan said slowly, “that’s a little awkward.”

Embarrassment made her angry. “So what do I do? Knock on the door, or what?”

“I’m really not sure. No other meal has survived long enough to want to go to the bathroom. You’re going to have to just go in here.”

Valkyrie got up, felt her way to the door, and banged her fist against it. “Hey!” she shouted.

She heard the voices from the other cells shouting “Hey!” back.

She kicked the door. “I have to use the toilet!”

The responses she got to
that
one were predictably disgusting.

And then a new voice, clearer than the others. “Shut up in there!” It wasn’t a voice she recognised.

Most of the other prisoners quietened down, and those that didn’t got a sharp rap on their iron door as a warning. Valkyrie waited until she could be heard.

“Hello?” she called. “I need to go to the bathroom. Hello?”

She heard striding footsteps getting louder, and then the door rattled and the viewing hatch slid open. The beam of a torch blinded her and she immediately looked away.

“What’s going on?” the man demanded. “Why isn’t she dead?”

“I need to use the toilet,” she told him, blinking her vision back.

The man ignored her and repeated his question. “Why isn’t she dead?”

“I’m on hunger strike,” Caelan said.

The man shoved the torch through the hatch in an attempt to see into Caelan’s corner, and Valkyrie reached out and grabbed it, wrenching it out of his grip.

“Give that back!” the man roared.

“You let me go to the bathroom and I’ll give it back.”

“You’re supposed to be dead!”

“Well, I’m alive and I need to pee.”

“Keep the bloody thing!” he snarled, and slammed the hatch shut. She heard him striding away.

“I won’t look,” Caelan said, “I promise.” Angrily, Valkyrie swung the torch to the sound of his voice.

The beam fell upon a boy around her age, maybe a bit older. He languished with his back to the corner, one long leg stretched out straight along the floor, the other pulled in. His boots were scuffed and his jeans dirty and torn. His torso was bare, the light flowing over the lean muscles of his arms. But it was his face that caught her attention – black hair falling to his brow, and a smile so wicked and cheekbones so sharp. He had one hand up, shading his eyes.