Erebos (50 page)

‘You made that yourself, didn't you? But why?'

‘Because I'm in the Inner Circle and that's its symbol.' She pushed Adrian aside; it was a gesture that was almost apologetic, but at the same time had enough force to send him reeling backwards through the room. Emily caught him before he fell.

‘Actually,' he said, ‘it's the logo of Vay Too Far. My father's company.'

‘Exactly,' Ortolan said. The word ended in a shout, because a gust of wind was buffeting the scaffolding and making the brackets rattle.

The wind also carried a sound. Sirens. Was it police cars? Quite possibly, and they were coming closer. Ortolan's face showed relief. ‘Jump,' said Helen.

‘Pardon?'

‘I said, “Jump”.'

She moved closer to the window, lifted the gun and pointed the muzzle at Ortolan's chest. ‘Jump or I'll shoot you.'

The sirens came closer; the alien and the Gollum girl exchanged frantic looks.

‘We should get out of here,' the girl said. ‘Someone's called the police. Let's go, people, quick!'

‘Jump now, you arsehole,' said Helen behind her skull mask.

The image burned itself indelibly into Nick's memory. As if death itself had spoken.

‘Your friends are right; the police are on the way.' Fear was forcing Ortolan's voice higher. ‘They're going to catch you committing a murder, do you understand? If you shoot, you're a murderer. You'll go to prison for the rest of your life.' He couldn't take his eyes off the gun. Helen was standing so close to him that if she squeezed the trigger she'd certainly hit him and he would certainly fall – dead or alive. He was talking for his life.

The effect of his words on one of the five mask-wearers was obvious. The
Scream
guy edged closer and closer to the door, and then raced off. The alien and the Gollum girl looked as though they'd like to follow him. They only had the two groups – those standing and those lying on the floor – covered half-heartedly.

Victor must have noticed. ‘Just go,' he encouraged both of them. ‘And you know what? I'll tell you a secret: The game is over. It won't matter in the slightest what you do; the messenger won't reward you. But the courts will punish you. Erebos is all over, it's —' ‘Shut your gob, you don't know what you're talking about!' Helen screamed. Her gun was pointed at Victor for a few seconds, until she remembered her actual orders and got Ortolan back in her sights. ‘Jump!' she bellowed, and took another step towards him. For a moment it looked as though he was going to obey her. He looked down, as if he was trying to estimate the height, or his chances of reaching solid ground by climbing. Then Adrian put himself between Helen and the window.

Victor and Nick jumped forwards at the same time, and checked themselves at almost the same time, too. Helen had to remain calm, she simply must not shoot.

‘Move away, Adrian,' Nick said.

Adrian didn't budge. Helen was getting nervous; she was leaning from one side to the other so she could get a better aim at Ortolan again. But she didn't lower her gun.

‘You're not going to shoot Adrian, are you?' Nick asked. ‘None of this insanity is his fault.' A siren interrupted him.

Gollum and the alien bolted as if they'd only realised this minute how serious the situation was.

‘No,' Colin screamed after them. ‘Don't leave me here! Take me with you, you cowardly bastards!' He tried to stand, screamed with pain and collapsed back onto the floor. The devil's mask slipped, revealing his dark skin.

‘Mr Ortolan,' Adrian said. ‘Tell everyone here how you tried to steal Elysium from my father. If you don't, I will step aside.'

‘Why doesn't someone take the gun away from the nutter?' Ortolan shouted. ‘It can't be that difficult!'

Tyres squealed in front of the building. Blue lights flickered on the wall of the building opposite.

‘I'm up here!' screeched Ortolan. ‘Here! Help!'

He turned back to the open window. ‘That's enough, I'm coming back in. Enough of this madness!'

Adrian stepped aside just as he'd threatened; Helen's gun-muzzle was aimed directly at Ortolan's head.

‘No! Please!' He ducked on the scaffolding, started to sway, cried out and steadied himself again.

‘Say it,' Adrian repeated.

‘What for? No court in the world would allow it. I'm being threatened!'

‘That's not what matters to me. Say it. We both know it's true.'

There was a commotion in front of the building. Someone called orders in a commanding tone, car doors slammed. The trussed-up office workers moved restlessly. Nick prayed that none of them would lose their nerve; Helen's patience seemed to be exhausted.

Sweat was dripping out from under her skull mask and down her neck. Nick could feel her mounting rage as if it were his own.

Adrian had moved in front of Ortolan again, and faced him.

‘Your father was a bloody genius,' Ortolan cried, ‘with no idea about business. We could have set the industry on fire, but he had to do everything by himself.'

‘Did you steal his program?'

‘Yes! Yes I damned well did! And I did the right thing, you hear me?'

‘You blackmailed him? Robbed him? Terrorised him?'

‘Yes if you must put it like that. But it didn't work, okay? I never found a complete version of Elysium anywhere. Nothing I could do anything with. So get a grip on yourself.'

Adrian turned around. ‘Helen, let him go.'

‘No, I'll let him fall, nothing else. Out of the way.'

Adrian didn't budge. Helen put her death's head to one side. ‘I'm sorry,' she said, and gave him a punch that sent him right across the room to the opposite wall.

Nick and Victor reacted at the same time – they jumped on Helen from behind – Victor pushed her to the floor with his weight, while Nick tried to get at the hand that held the gun.

Helen fought them off with all her strength. ‘Let go of me! I'm the last warrior who can win the battle!'

‘There's no battle,' Nick gasped. ‘There's no messenger, and no more orders. Stop it, Helen! Please!'

‘Traitor!' she screamed.

Then something went bang right next to Nick, so loud that at first he thought he must be dead. Shot dead. The next second he realised that Helen's bullet had only hit the wall, but the shock had made him loosen his grip. Helen twisted round and shot at Ortolan, who was in the process of clambering back through the window into the office.

She hit him in the side. For a moment he stood there, as if frozen in position, half inside, half outside, then he slowly collapsed backwards.

Nick saw a leaping black shadow shoot towards Ortolan and grab his arm. Victor. He dragged the man over the windowsill into the office, and laid him on the floor. Blood was colouring Ortolan's shirt red.

‘Did it,' Helen panted behind the mask. ‘I knew it would work.'

The shock that had paralysed Nick's brain was dispersing, but it still took a few heartbeats before he had his body under control again. He ripped the gun out of Helen's hand and gave it to Victor.

‘What do we do now? Look how he's bleeding . . . We need an ambulance.'

One of the two tied-up men held his hands up. ‘Cut the tape, and I'll see to his injury. Quickly!'

Nick did what the man said. He felt peculiar, dizzy. As if he was about to keel over. ‘We need an ambulance,' he repeated.

Sitting down was suddenly a good idea. Black and white dots danced in front of his eyes; the black ones were multiplying. He groped his way to a chair, bent over and waited for the light-headedness to pass.

When he looked up again, Helen was sitting next to him. She was studying her hands. Someone should hold her down, Nick thought. But she's not running away.

Footsteps on the stairs. One of the lifts was humming, too. Help was on the way; for some of them at least. For others . . .

‘Helen?' he asked, and took her skull mask off, revealing her broad, sweat-soaked yet contented face.

‘Don't call me Helen,' she said. ‘I am BloodWork.'

Police, doctors, paramedics. The office was full of people who were all talking at once. First they carried the injured Ortolan out and attended to Colin, who had suspected broken ribs and possibly a ruptured spleen. Ortolan had snatched the baseball bat from him and dealt him several blows to the stomach, one of the employees told them. Nick was amazed that Helen hadn't shot Ortolan straightaway because of it – perhaps it was because she had always hated Colin.

Before they carried him away, Colin called out to Nick, who leaned down to him. Colin grabbed his hand.

‘Will you testify for me, Nick? They're going to prosecute me and lump me in with Helen. But I would never have fired; I'd chosen the bat specially. Please.'

Nick found it hard not to pull his hand away from Colin. ‘It's . . . too soon now. Maybe. Yes. Please let go.'

‘It wasn't me with Jamie either. I swear.'

‘I know,' Nick said.

They carried Colin to the ambulance and Nick accompanied the police officers to the station for questioning.

It's easy to let go, once you have made the decision to. I look around and I feel like laughing. All this will soon be in the past, and I myself will only be a memory – painful for some, awkward for others.

My work is finished. I won't ever find out what happens. How fortunate. I will not be tempted to intervene, to change the course of events.

Countless possibilities exist in the future, waiting to happen. I feel no curiosity. If curiosity were present, would I stay? I don't know. I'm tired. That, too, makes it easy to let go.

CHAPTER 33

Through the sheeting rain, the Whittington Hospital was a massive grey-brown hulk. Nick had pulled his hood down over his forehead, but he was still getting wet. He'd stowed the small package of Jamie's favourite chocolate safely in the inside pocket of his rain jacket.

The room was on the third floor. As he stood outside the door, Nick felt the overwhelming desire to turn tail and run. ‘He's awake,' Mr Watson had said. ‘But he's not very well yet.' No-one had asked for details.

Nick knocked. Knocked again. No answer. He opened the door, full of foreboding.

Two beds: one was empty, Jamie lay in the other one. He looked small. Fragile. Nick took a deep breath.

‘Hi, Jamie. It's me, Nick. I heard you're getting better, so I thought I'd drop in.'

Jamie didn't move. His head was turned towards the wall. One half was shaved, similar to Kate's, except that in Jamie's case there was a scar across the bare patch.

‘I brought you something.' Nick pulled the package out of his jacket and slowly approached. He saw Jamie's face. He was lying with his mouth half open, staring at the wall.

So it was true. Something was choking Nick right above his vocal chords. He looked away quickly.

‘Emily says hello. She's going to visit you soon. A lot's happened in the last few weeks.'

Jamie's rigid stare was still fixed on the wall. Nick thought he saw a muscle twitch in his face. Perhaps it had been his imagination. ‘Jamie. I'm incredibly sorry that I was such a shit to you that day. I've wished thousands of times that I'd behaved differently. But the game is over; perhaps that will please you. Not just for me – it's completely over.'

Was Jamie smiling? No.

‘If you can hear me, if you can understand even one word of what I'm saying, then do something. Please! Blink, or wiggle your toes – anything.'

Was he responding? Was he actually responding? Nick bit his lip as Jamie pushed his right hand infinitely slowly over the bedclothes, raised it and stretched his fingers up.

‘Well done, Jamie, that's great,' Nick stammered. ‘You'll get better, I know you will.'

Jamie's hand hung in the air. His fingers twitched. Then he bent them over, one by one, except the middle finger. Turned his head, looked at Nick, and grinned.

‘Cox, you silly bugger, you scared me half to death!' Nick yelled, and had to restrain himself not to punch Jamie in the ribs, or at least fling his arms round his neck. ‘You're better, huh? Boy, am I glad. I thought you were . . . gone.'

‘Me, better? Are you daft? I've got a headache like nothing on earth, and you have no idea how brilliant a broken hip feels.' Jamie laughed, but at the same time screwed his eyes up in pain. ‘But I'm getting amazing drugs for it. It was almost worth it just for that.'

‘Idiot. I saw you lying on the road and thought you were dead. I'll never get the picture out of my head.'

Jamie was grinning shamelessly again. ‘Send me a print of it.'

Jamie still remembered everything, apart from the two days before the accident. His anger over the game was unabated.

‘It's not running any more,' Nick said. ‘None of the gamers can log in. After the battle was lost, it immediately turned dark on everyone. It's over. Full stop. End of story. A few people are still totally messed up because of it.'

‘How can that be? Did someone turn off the server?'

‘No.' Nick had to remind himself that Jamie had no idea what Erebos had been and all the things it had been capable of. ‘It was a remarkable game. It could read, and it could understand what it read. My theory is that it was searching the internet the whole time the battle was on and waiting for the announcement that – how can I put it – its enemy was dead. The announcement didn't come. There was a different one instead. At which point it turned itself off.'

Jamie looked impressed. ‘Far out!'

‘Yes.'

Jamie's pale face looked thoughtful. Was it too early to tell him the whole truth? No, Nick thought. The sooner it's behind us the better.

‘Listen,' he said. ‘Your accident. Someone disconnected your brakes, that's why you tore through the intersection like a bat out of hell.' He took a breath. ‘I know who did it. If you want, I'll tell you.'