Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant (29 page)

Once he had piled every conceivable type of meat on to his sandwich, Jerry cut off the crusts and then sliced it down the middle. He picked up one half, raised it slowly to his mouth and bit into it as he turned. He saw them and shrieked, spitting it all out again as he stumbled back against the fridge. A bit of lettuce hung wetly off his chin.

“Hi,” said Tanith. “Just checking – you
are
Jerry Ordain, right?”

The man stood there, eyes bulging. “Whuh,” he said.

“Jerry Ordain? You
are
Jerry the psychic, aren’t you?”

He shook his head. The piece of lettuce fell away. “No. Not me. No. Wrong person.”

“Then who are you?” Sanguine asked.

The man gaped at him. “Me?”

It was Jerry. It was obviously Jerry, from the look on his face as his fear-frozen mind tried coming up with a false name. “I’m… I’m…”

Sanguine added an edge to his voice. “What’s your damn name?”

“Jerry!” Jerry blurted. “But not the Jerry you’re looking for! I’m a different Jerry!”

Jerry had to be the worst liar Tanith had ever met.

“I’ll get him, though,” Jerry said, stepping sideways. “If you stay right there, I’ll get him. Just stay there. I’ll be right back, with Jerry. The Jerry you’re looking for.”

Sanguine strolled over to intercept him, and Jerry reversed direction, started heading for the window.

“Make yourselves at home,” he was saying. “Want a sandwich? I just made a sandwich. You can have my sandwich. I won’t be long. Thirty seconds, tops.”

“Jerry,” Tanith said, “we’ve come a long way to talk to you.”

He shook his head. “You’ve come a long way to talk to the
other
Jerry…”

Tanith showed him her sword. Jerry stared. And then he bolted for the window.

In his haste, however, he completely forgot about the coffee table and, when his shin smacked into it, he barely had time to howl before his face hit the floor. Tanith watched him contort in pain, one hand over his shin, the other covering his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue. She winced. She hated that.

Tears in his eyes, Jerry launched himself up and ran into the wall. He rebounded impressively, gave a little whirl and staggered to the window. Clumsy hands fumbled at the latch. He finally raised it, glanced behind him to make sure he still had time, and in that moment the window closed. Jerry turned back and dived into the glass, cracking it and careering backwards. He collapsed on to the rug and curled up into a sobbing, moaning ball.

“Pleathe,” he lisped, “shtop hurting me.”

Tanith sighed. “We haven’t touched you, Jerry.”

“I seen a lot of things in my time,” Sanguine said, “but I ain’t never seen a man beat himself up before. That was highly entertainin’.”

Tanith walked over to Jerry as he continued to sob.

“Pleathe don’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry,” Tanith said, her voice soothing. “We weren’t planning on it.”

Sanguine looked at her, surprised. “We weren’t? Why not? He’s clearly an idiot.”

She glared. “We’re not here to hurt anyone. We’re here to ask some questions and leave.”

“But we’ll be killin’ him before we go, won’t we?”

Jerry squealed softly.

“No, we won’t,” Tanith insisted. “Violence is not always the answer, Billy-Ray. This time, Jerry here gets to live out the rest of his life in peace – understand?”

“Barely.”

She hunkered down and patted Jerry on the shoulder. “Don’t mind him, Jerry. He’s cranky. He’s used to being the only American in my life, but now there’s you. Jealousy is a terrible thing in a grown man, isn’t it?”

“I ain’t jealous.”

“Of course not, dear. Jerry, what do you say you answer our questions and then we leave you alone? Does that sound good to you?”

Jerry nodded.

“Good man. How’s your tongue?”

“I bith it.”

“I can see that.”

“Ith bleeding.”

“I can see that, too.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. “Ith it bad?”

His tongue was bloody and horrible. She took a small leaf from her coat and placed it delicately into his mouth. “Don’t say anything for a few seconds. Let that heal.”

Jerry blinked at her. His eyes were wet. He wasn’t an impressive human being.

“Show me,” she said, and he stuck his tongue out again. She nodded. “It’s healing. It was only a small bite. Now you can answer our questions, can’t you?”

He nodded, and she stood.

“You’re involved with a group of people, aren’t you? A group of sorcerers from different Sanctuaries around the world.”

“How… how did you know that?”

“I’ve spent the last few months asking a lot of people a lot of questions. See, I figured there’d be someone out there who would be trying to do something about Darquesse before she even turned up. That’s when I heard your name for the first time. You’re a psychic, aren’t you, Jerry?”

“I… I prefer the term clairvoyant.”

Tanith did her best not to roll her eyes. “Clairvoyant, of course. And, as a clairvoyant, you would have seen visions of Darquesse.”

“Of course,” Jerry said, nodding. He was still on the floor, but he was sitting a little straighter now. His chest puffed out slightly. “Even low-level Sensitives picked up something. For a clairvoyant of my ability, it was a veritable tsunami of images and sensations and emotions. Very powerful.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw death.”

Sanguine gave a barely suppressed sigh.

“What do you mean?” Tanith asked, smiling at Jerry.

“I saw a city destroyed. Streets cracked and broken. Buildings burning. And I saw her. I saw Darquesse.”

“Did you see her face?”

“Alas, no, I did not,” said Jerry, and Tanith resisted smacking him for using the word
alas
in an irony-free context. “But there is no doubt in my mind that it was her. Ten foot tall, she was. A terrible sight to behold.”

“Ten foot tall?” Sanguine asked.

Jerry nodded. “Oh, yes. Easily. And the way she moved… like a cat.”

Sanguine frowned behind his sunglasses. “What, on all fours?”

“Pardon me?”

Sanguine continued. “I heard from another psychic – sorry,
clairvoyant
– that Darquesse had long black fingernails that she used to cut off people’s heads. Did you see that?”

Jerry nodded. “It was awful.”

“And she shot laser beams out of her eyes.”

“Well,” Jerry said with a shrug, “I don’t know if they were laser beams, but yes. Devastating blasts, they were.”

“This clairvoyant friend of ours,” Sanguine continued, “he also caught a glimpse of red hair beneath her hood. Did you see that? Don’t worry if you didn’t. Our friend is probably the most powerful Sensitive in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see as much as him.”

“Red hair?” Jerry said. “Yes. Yes, I saw that too, now that you mention it. Long tousled red hair.”

“He said it was straight.”

“Long straight red hair, yes.”

“He said it was short.”

“Short straight red hair, that’s what I meant to say.”

Sanguine looked at Tanith, who glowered and poked Jerry. He screamed. She had poked him with her sword.

“You’re lying to us,” she said. He screamed again. “We don’t have a psychic friend. Billy-Ray made all that stuff up. You didn’t see a vision, did you?”

She twisted the sword and his screams reached a new pitch. “No! No, I didn’t! I’m sorry! Please stop stabbing me!”

She withdrew the sword and wiped the tip of the blade on his shirt. “Are you even a Sensitive, Jerry?”

“I am,” he whimpered, cradling his wound, “but I’m not a very good one. Sometimes… sometimes I can predict the weather, if it’s a nice day.”

“Is it going to rain tomorrow?” Sanguine asked.

“I don’t know,” Jerry confessed. “I can only predict a few minutes into the future. Most of the time I have to watch the forecast like everyone else.”

“You,” Sanguine said, “are the worst psychic I’ve ever met.”

“Does anyone else know that you’re a fraud?” asked Tanith.

“No,” Jerry said, sobbing. “I’ve managed to keep them fooled. It hasn’t been easy, but whenever they ask me to look into the future I always try to be as vague as possible. I talk about shadows and death and ominous feelings, and they generally infer their own meanings into that and then leave me alone.”

“So when this group of sorcerers asked you to find out more about Darquesse,” Tanith said, “you basically just copied what every other Sensitive was saying?”

“Essentially, yes,” Jerry said. “Can I have a bandage? I’m bleeding quite badly here.”

“First you tell us what they’re planning, and then we’ll see about bandages.”

“I’m losing a lot of blood.”

Tanith let the veins rise beneath her skin, and her black lips curled into a smile. “Tell us what they’re planning.”

Jerry paled, his face going slack. “Yes. Yes, of course. They’re going after weapons. Four God-Killer weapons that they think could hurt Darquesse.”

“Where are these weapons?”

“Scattered,” said Jerry. “All over the world. They’re going to go after them.”

“And you know where they’re goin’?” Sanguine asked.

“I have a list of the possible locations.” Jerry took out his wallet, rifled through it, came out with a crumpled piece of paper.

Tanith took it from him, examined it and nodded. “Looks like we won’t be needing you any more.”

He brightened. “So that’s it? I can go?”

She pulled him to his feet. “You can go,” she smiled, and her sword flashed and she took off his head.

“You,” Sanguine said, “are delicious when you’re vicious.”

She gave him a smirk, and led the way to the front door. She opened it and froze.

Six little children in Halloween outfits looked up at her.

“Trick or treat,” said the little witch. Surrounding the witch was a pirate, a zombie, a vampire, a Mad Hatter and a rabbit. They rattled their buckets.

“Uh,” said Tanith.

Sanguine appeared at her elbow and grinned at the kids. “Look,” he said, “there’s a little zombie. Smells a darn sight better than the real thing, doesn’t he? And a vampire! Doesn’t she look cute? And a rabbit!” He faltered. “A rabbit. That… that ain’t exactly scary, though, is it?”

The rabbit looked up at him. “It is if you’re scared of rabbits.”

Tanith nodded. “You’ve got to admit he makes a good point.”

“You talk funny,” said the witch. “Where are you from?”

Tanith smiled. “I’m from London.”

The pirate frowned. “Is that in France?”

The Mad Hatter scowled. “It’s in England, dummy.” He looked at Tanith. “You’re English. Why do you have a sword?”

“Because I’m an English ninja,” Tanith replied. “We’re just like regular ninjas, except we wear leather and flirt more.”

The kids nodded, satisfied with the definition, and then rattled their buckets again. “Trick or treat,” they chorused.

“This isn’t actually our house,” Tanith told them, “but whatever you find in there is yours to keep.”

The pirate perked up. “Even the TV?”

“Especially the TV.”

The kids glanced at each other, then stormed the house. Tanith waited a moment, watching them approach Jerry’s headless corpse warily. The rabbit hesitated, then nudged Jerry’s head with his fluffy foot. The head rolled in its own blood, and the rabbit shrugged. “That’s so fake,” he said, and turned to help the pirate with the TV.

very town has a haunted house, I guess, and Bredon, small as it was, was no different. My older brother and his friends used to go up there, dare each other to knock on the door. He told me once that when his time came, he accepted the dare like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. He’d mocked others for being scared and he wasn’t about to turn around and show anything like that kind of fear in his own eyes.