Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant (23 page)

eacon Maybury’s apartment was trashed.

Skulduggery and Valkyrie went first, to check if it was safe, and Ryan crept in after them. Papers littered the bad carpet. The ugly couch had been slashed open and its stuffing had been pulled out like fluffy intestines. Chairs were overturned, picture frames smashed and every drawer taken from its slot, the contents dumped and scattered.

“What exactly are we looking for in this mess?” Valkyrie asked.

“Foe secured the Doomsday Machine somewhere,” Skulduggery said, picking through the debris. “We need to find out where. Maybe we’ll get lucky and discover that Deacon was an avid journal keeper. But if we can’t find a solid lead to take us to the Machine, there might be something else here, a clue or a name, something that will take us a step further.”

Valkyrie sighed. “I hate looking for clues.”

Ryan smiled at the cuteness of Valkyrie’s sulk.

“Looking for clues is an integral part of detective work,” Skulduggery told her.

“I prefer the part where we hit people.”

“That’s just because you have a violent nature. You should endeavour to be more peace-loving, like Ryan.”

Ryan stopped admiring Valkyrie and frowned. “Why am I peace-loving?”

“Hmm?” Skulduggery said, looking up. “Oh, I meant nothing by it. I just assumed you were peace-loving because you seem to be terrible at violence. Plus, you scream a lot.”

“Just because I don’t go around getting into fights every day doesn’t mean I can’t fight,” Ryan said, his face growing warm.

“Not being good at violence is nothing to be ashamed of,” Skulduggery said, standing a filing cabinet upright and sifting through it. “If there were more people like you in the world, there’d be less need for people like us.”

“I don’t have a violent nature,” Valkyrie growled.

“And I’m not peace-loving,” Ryan insisted.

“But you do scream a lot,” Skulduggery said.

“How can you know that?” Ryan asked. “You’ve known me for, like, two hours.”

“And in those two hours, you have spent most of your time screaming.” Skulduggery shrugged. “I really can’t see how my logic can be faulted.”

“I don’t have a violent nature,” Valkyrie repeated.

“Of course you don’t,” Skulduggery said as he continued to sift the files in the cabinet. “Entirely my mistake.”

Valkyrie scowled and started sorting through the papers on the floor. She hadn’t been too interested in Ryan’s defence of his manliness. He couldn’t say he blamed her. She was a sorcerer who battled evil villains every other day. He was a chubby loser who needed girls to fight his battles for him. The only way he was going to change how she thought of him was to do something so brave and noble that she couldn’t fail to be impressed. He turned and screamed at a middle-aged woman who stood in the doorway.

The middle-aged woman was startled by the scream, but not half as startled as Ryan himself. It had been a surprisingly high-pitched scream this time, and to make matters worse, it resulted in Valkyrie leaping in front of him protectively.

“Oh,” said the middle-aged woman. She wore a floral dress and a cardigan. As middle-aged women went, she wasn’t particularly frightening.

Skulduggery walked forward, a new false face smiling broadly. “Hello there,” he said. “How are you on this fine day? Come in, come in. And you are…?”

“Francine,” the woman said, a little flustered. “I live down the hall… What are you doing in Deacon Maybury’s apartment?”

“You know Deacon?” Skulduggery asked. Valkyrie walked behind her, checked the corridor for anyone else, then stepped back in and closed the door.

“Well, yes,” said Francine, frowning at Valkyrie and then looking at Skulduggery. “He’s my neighbour and he’s a good man. If you’re robbing him, I must warn you – we don’t take kindly to that sort of thing here.”

“We’re not robbing him,” Skulduggery said. “But I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“Is it Deacon?” Francine asked, her eyes wide.

“It is.”

“Is he sick?”

“It’s a little worse than that.”

She gasped. “He’s dying?”

“He was briefly dying,” said Skulduggery. “Now he’s dead.”

Francine’s mouth dropped open. “What? Deacon… Deacon is
dead
?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” She sagged, and Valkyrie caught her before she collapsed. “My Deacon… My poor Deacon…”

Valkyrie staggered over to the only upright chair, and dumped Francine into it.

“He was so strong,” Francine sobbed. “So proud. So much dignity. How did he die?”

“Wood chipper,” said Valkyrie.

Francine wailed again, pounding the table with her little fists. “Why?” she cried. “Why did you take him, Lord?”

Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery, and Skulduggery shrugged.

“Uh,” Valkyrie said. “I’m sorry for your, you know, your loss. I’m sure he was a great… I’m sure…” She faltered, and gave a shrug of her own. Ryan looked at Skulduggery, but he showed no signs of offering any real comfort to the poor woman.

“You obviously loved him very much,” Ryan said, surprising himself by stepping forward.

“I did,” Francine sobbed.

“I’m sure he loved you back.”

Francine looked up, her eyes red and puffy and pleading. “Did he ever mention me?”

Ryan hesitated, and Valkyrie smirked at him from behind Francine. “All the time,” he said. “Yes. God, every time I spoke to him he was all, Francine this and Francine that and… ohh, how I love Francine.”

“He said that?”

“Uh, something along those lines, definitely…”

Francine clasped her hands to her chest. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew he loved me. All those long silences. All those awkward moments. I should have told him I felt the same way. Then we could have… Then we could have…”

She broke off into a fit of sobbing. Behind her, Valkyrie gave Ryan the thumbs up. He had a feeling she meant it sarcastically.

“Did you talk to Deacon much?” Skulduggery asked, leaning down to gently pat her hand. “Did you tell each other about your days? Did you confide in each other…?”

“With a love like ours,” Francine warbled, “we didn’t need words.”

“How inconvenient,” Skulduggery muttered, straightening up immediately and walking away.

“Francine,” Ryan said, “we’re looking for something that Deacon was keeping for us. Do you know where it is? It’d be big, now, as big as a house.”

Francine blinked away tears. “What could he have had that was as big as a house?”

Ryan frowned. He really had no answer to that.

“A house,” Valkyrie said quickly. “He had a house. He was keeping it for us. One of those mobile houses, you know the kind.”

“A mobile home?” Francine asked.

“Something like that. A little bigger. Do you remember if he ever mentioned a warehouse, or some kind of big storage facility that he visited?”

Francine frowned. “Well, I… I heard him on the phone once. I remember him saying something about having the paperwork for a warehouse that was cluttering up his files.”

“It has to be here somewhere,” Skulduggery said, going back to the filing cabinet. Valkyrie went into the bedroom, and started pulling the place apart.

“Did I say something wrong?” Francine asked.

“No,” Ryan said. “Actually, you’ve been a big help. Would you like something? A cup of tea or…?”

“I should get back to my apartment,” Francine said, standing slowly. “I need a lie-down. This is all… this is all a big shock to me.”

“I’m really sorry,” Ryan said.

She smiled weakly, took a step and swayed. Ryan jumped for her, wrapping one of her arms round his neck.

“I’ll help you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied. A tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re very nice.”

While Skulduggery and Valkyrie searched, Ryan hobbled along with Francine out of the apartment and down the corridor. She was light but awkward.

“Your friends are a little odd,” Francine said.

“I know.”

“The girl’s pretty, though. Is she your girlfriend?”

Ryan gave a laugh, realised he was blushing. “No, she’s not. We’ve just met, actually.”

“My apartment’s around the corner,” Francine said, gesturing ahead of them and sniffling. “Do you want my advice? Don’t make the same mistake I made with Deacon. Tell her how you feel.”

“I really just met her.”

“But you like her, don’t you?”

“I, yeah, I suppose.”

He helped her round the corner.

“Seize the moment,” Francine said. “You never know when you might get another chance at happiness.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised, hoping that she’d change the subject before anyone overheard them.

“My apartment’s just up ahead,” Francine said, standing a little straighter. “You really are very nice. Such good manners, helping me all the way to my door.”

“It’s no trouble at all.”

“Unfortunately,” Francine said, “it will be.”

“Sorry? It will be what?”

“Trouble,” Francine said. “It will be a lot of trouble.”

Vincent Foe walked out of the apartment ahead of them.

yan spun, grabbed Francine, tried to drag her with him, but she laughed. She got an arm round his throat before he could call for help and hauled him backwards. He kicked and struggled, but she was much too strong, and then he was in the apartment and Foe was closing the door behind them.

Francine released him, and Ryan jumped away, almost colliding with Obloquy. Samuel watched him from the corner of the room.

“If you shout or scream,” Foe said, “we’ll kill you.”

“And then we’ll kill Valkyrie,” said Francine. She looked at Foe, and grinned. “He’s got a little crush on her.”

Foe raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? Well, can’t say I blame you, Ryan – she is a fine-looking girl. If I were a few hundred years younger, I’d be in there like a shot, believe you me. I’m not altogether sure what she’d ever see in
you
, though. You don’t seem quite up to her standard. No offence, but you’re kind of… unexceptional.”

“Maybe he’s hoping she’ll like him for his sense of humour,” Obloquy chuckled.

“Young love,” Foe said, almost wistfully. “If you’re lucky, you might have a chance to confess to her your eternal devotion, so long as you do exactly what I tell you.”

Ryan’s mouth was so dry his voice was a croak. “I’m not going to help you destroy the world.”

“Yes, you are.”

“It doesn’t make any sense. If you want to die, why don’t you just kill yourselves and leave everyone else out of it?”

“Where’s the drama in that?” asked Francine.

Foe glanced at her. “That’s getting really disconcerting, you know.”

“Ain’t that something?” she murmured, and Ryan watched as Francine flickered, and he glimpsed someone underneath, someone slimmer, wearing black, with a bandaged arm… And then Francine was gone, and Mercy stood there. “That better?”

“Much,” Foe said, turning his attention back to Ryan. “We’re going to destroy the world because there is absolutely no point to its continued existence.”

There were a hundred things Ryan wanted to say.
That’s it? That’s the reason? You want to kill everyone because you can’t see the point? What kind of stupid, pathetic, selfish reason is that?
But he didn’t say any of it, because he was too scared. Because he wasn’t the hero. Because he was the one who was waiting for someone to rescue him.