Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant (36 page)

With him gone, it was like a piece of me had been sliced away – stolen. Once Sammy was back, once my family was safe, I could afford to allow plain, boring, run-of-the-mill reality to creep back into my world view. Until then, sneaking around with Irish exorcists was the place for me.

“Your son’s not in there,” Skulduggery Pleasant said from behind us. I turned sharply, stifling a curse, but he was already walking away. Valkyrie’s reaction was much calmer, like she knew he was there. How he had snuck up on us, though, I had no idea.

“How do you know?” I asked, hurrying after him.

“Because I looked.”

“You can’t have looked. You were only gone a few minutes.”

“A few minutes are all I need,” Pleasant said. He touched his face, kneading the skin, and I saw him frown. “We’ll have to hurry to the warehouse. We don’t have much time.”

The warehouse was empty. It was obviously empty. Somehow I just knew it. The others did, too, but Pleasant had to make sure. Like before, I stayed outside with Valkyrie while he vanished into the shadows. He came back a few minutes later, shaking his head.

“It’s set up, ready for a ritual sacrifice, but there’s no sign of your son,” he said. He was touching his face again. “They could be keeping him anywhere. We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

“What?” I said. “No. No, we can’t leave Sammy with them overnight.”

“Of course we can,” Pleasant said, “and we’ll catch them red-handed tomorrow. It’ll all be very dramatic. You’ll love it, believe me.”

“No,” I said. “We have to keep searching.”

“It’s pointless. Even if you knew this town, which you don’t, not any more, it’d be a waste of time. Go home, get some sleep. We’ll pick you up at three in the afternoon. I’ll tell you the plan then.”

“You’re… you’re sure? You’re sure this is the best course of action?”

“This is the only course of action. Be ready at three.”

I nodded, sagging against my car. I suddenly realised how tired I was. How utterly exhausted. “Can I give you a lift anywhere? To your hotel?”

“We’re fine,” Valkyrie said. “And try not to worry, OK? Saving people is what we do.”

I gave another nod, then got in the car. I swung round, pointing the nose back the way I’d come. I glanced in the rear-view mirror, saw Pleasant and Valkyrie standing close to each other. His arm was round her waist. My eyes flickered to the road ahead, then back to the rear-view. The road behind me was empty.

got no sleep. My son was in the hands of a madman. Every ten minutes, I grabbed the phone, ready to dial for the cops. But I didn’t. I don’t know why I was trusting these strangers, but trusting them I was, and so I didn’t dial. I just thought about it a lot.

Three o’clock the following day I was sitting in my car outside my old home, waiting for Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie to suddenly open the doors and get in.

At four o’clock, I was standing in the kitchen, a mug of cold coffee in my hand, my eyes on the street outside.

“You seen Sammy?” Felicity asked, passing behind me.

“He’s checking out the places I used to go as a kid,” I said. The words came out quickly, spilled out like a lie I’d been waiting to tell. “I drew him a map.”

She came up, put her hand on my arm. “How’re you doing?”

I stiffened, and she took her hand away. Then left.

At ten minutes to five, my phone rang.

“Hi,” said Chrissy.

“Oh,” I said, “hey.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I’m just waiting for someone. They’re late.”

“Oh. OK. Listen, I’m sorry if I upset you last night.”

“You didn’t,” I said, making sure no one was around before I continued in a softer voice. “They have him. They have Sammy. You were right, Chrissy. About all of it.”

“They have Sammy? Oh, God.”

“Chrissy, I met some people last night. A man called Pleasant and a girl called Valkyrie. They knew everything. They said they could help.”

There was a pause. “Be careful,” Chrissy said. “This sounds like something Pete would do.”

“No, it’s not him. They’re genuine. I really think they’re genuine. They knew everything. They knew stuff we don’t know. They do this kind of thing for a living.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t—”

“Dammit, Chrissy, yesterday we said we needed exorcists, didn’t we? Well, now we have them. They took me to the warehouse where they think Moon kills the kids. They can help. Only… only they were supposed to meet me here two hours ago and they haven’t shown.”

“And you trust them?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. Yes, I do.”

“Do you think they’re in trouble?”

My heart became something heavy, weighing down on my lungs. “Yes.”

I stood there in the kitchen, the phone pressed to my ear, as helpless and useless in the face of true evil as any child.

“Then do you want to go help them?” Chrissy asked.

“Yes,” I said.

I picked Chrissy up outside her house, a small Cape Cod on what used to be called Dearson Street, but which now went by the rather more grander-sounding Eastview Drive. If they’d thought renaming the street would elevate the neighbourhood, they must surely have been disappointed. The houses stood forlorn, the spaces between them filled with coarse grasses and the rusted detritus of modern living – flat-wheeled bicycles, broken-down dishwashers, and old cars run on nothing but hope, spit and desperation.

Chrissy was waiting for me outside the neatest of these houses, and she got in quickly, her purse in her lap. Even now, with the lines on her face and the grey in her hair, I felt a little buzz in my stomach when I met those blue eyes of hers. A buzz that I hadn’t felt with my wife for a long time.

I felt guilty about that.

We didn’t meet much traffic as we drove to the warehouse, but it was already getting dark as I pulled over.

“Is this it?” Chrissy asked.

“No, it’s further up,” I said, having learned from the experts. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

She nodded. “OK, yeah. I brought something. For us. For protection.”

Glancing at me nervously, she pulled a nickel-plated revolver from her purse.

“It was my husband’s,” she said. “I kept it when he left. It’s loaded, I checked. This little lever here is the safety.”

I looked at it. “I’ve never fired a gun in my life.”

“Me, either. But I thought we might need it.”

She held it out to me. I took it, felt how heavy it was. I kept my finger away from the trigger. “OK,” I said. “OK, this is probably… probably a good idea.”

She gave me a smile, a thin, brittle smile, and got out. I hesitated only a moment before joining her.

I tried sticking the gun into the waistband of my trousers, but it didn’t feel secure, so I just put it in my jacket pocket as we walked. I kept an eye out for cameras. Pleasant had said something about the security being impressive, but I didn’t see any, not even when we were peering through the chain-link fence. There were lights on in the warehouse and a few cars parked outside that hadn’t been there the day before. But I couldn’t see any guards, and still no sign of cameras.

The gate was heavy and closed and the fence was twice my height. I realised that our first hurdle might also be our last.

“How the hell do we get in?” I murmured.

Chrissy hugged herself. It was cold out here. “Bruce Willis would just drive through the gate,” she said. “Or if he wanted to be sneaky he’d drop down from a neighbouring roof.” She craned her neck. “But how would he get up there?”

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “We’re intelligent people. We should be able to get past a fence.”

“We could climb it.”

We were going to have to. Even though I hadn’t indulged in any strenuous physical activity for over six years, I was going to have to climb a fence in front of my childhood crush. I offered up a silent prayer that I wouldn’t make too much of a fool of myself, then extended my arm, my fingers curling into the chain-link. Once I had a good grip, I rattled it a little, just to get an idea of what I had to work with, and then I jumped, grabbing a handhold further up. It wouldn’t take much for my fingers to start burning, so I wasted no time. I dug my feet in against the fence, tried to get the toes of my shoes through the links. I hung there, scrabbling for purchase mere inches off the sidewalk.

“You have never stopped being sexy,” Chrissy said in a quiet voice, and, despite the danger to ourselves and the threat to my son, I couldn’t help it, I laughed, and I laughed so hard I had to let go and stagger away from my failed attempt at being impressive.

Chrissy covered her laugh with her hands, eyes glittering with mirth. We both knew what it was, of course. The laughter was a nervous reaction to a scary situation. It didn’t make it any less funny.

“Boost me up,” she said. “If I can reach the top, I’ll try to pull you up after me.”

I went back to the fence, interlaced my fingers and bent my knees, keeping my back straight. Chrissy put her right foot in the cradle my hands formed. Her hands rested lightly on my shoulders. She was taking deep breaths.

“One,” I said, rocking slightly, “two… three.”

On
three
, I straightened and lifted and she sprang, catapulting upwards. She got a hand round the bar on the top of the fence and hauled herself up quickly till she was resting on her belly. Steadying herself with her hands, she lifted her right leg up and over and sat up, straddling the bar and looking down at me.

“I’m not going to be able to pull you up,” she said. Her words were fast and clipped. She was up high and she was scared. She leaned forward, her knees tight and her right hand curled into the links. With her free left hand, she reached down to me. “That’s as far as I can go.”

“I can’t reach that high, Chrissy.”

“Then find something to step on. If I lean down any more, I’ll fall.”

I looked around for something to stand on, but the street was empty. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I’ll have to get the car.”

“Hurry.”

I ran back to the car, not liking this one bit. I turned the key gently, like that would make the engine quieter, and drove very slowly up to the warehouse with the lights off. I mounted the sidewalk, slowing down even more until the wing mirror scraped against the fence just below Chrissy. I turned off the ignition, got out, and clambered up on to the hood. Using the fence to steady me, I lunged up on to the roof. It clunked dully under my weight. I got into position, bent my knees, took a breath, and sprang. I hit the fence and clung on and Chrissy grabbed me with her free hand, then, after lots of grunting and exertion, I was straddling the fence, facing her. We held on to each other.

“We’re going to have to jump down,” I said.

She smiled without a whole lot of humour. “You first.”

She let go of me and I gripped the bar with both hands, swinging my other leg over the side. I lowered myself down as far as I could go, then dropped. My heels slammed painfully to the ground and the fence rattled and I bit my tongue.

“You OK?” Chrissy whispered. “Are you all right?”

I nodded up to her, one hand over my mouth, blinking away tears of pain as I hobbled around in a small circle. She swung her other leg over, lowered herself down just like I had done.

“Catch me,” she whispered and let go. She fell into my arms. She was heavier than I’d expected, but I didn’t drop her. I set her back on her feet and she looked at me, frowning. “You sure you’re OK?”

“Bit my tongue,” I said, a little shamefacedly.

“Maybe I’ll kiss it better for you later,” she said, a grin on her face. “Providing we live through the—”

She grabbed me, pulled me down behind one of the parked cars. We stayed there for a few seconds, frozen. I peeked up. There was a sentry. He walked like he had walked this route a hundred times tonight already. He was watchful, but not wary – otherwise he’d have noticed my car on the other side of the fence. It was pure luck he missed us.

He glanced at his watch, then put his hands back in his coat. When he passed through the side door of the warehouse, a blue light in an obscure pattern glowed briefly on the doorframe. I was reminded of the security pads I’d seen in movies – where a green light would mean authorised, and red would mean intruder. I got the feeling that the light would glow red if we tried going in. When he was gone, when we were sure we weren’t going to be discovered, we jogged to the door, slowing as we approached.