Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men (35 page)

On the level below, she could hear voices. A couple, in bed, wondering what all the noise was about. She picked her way through the darkness towards the staircase. The balcony doors swung open behind her and she turned as the vampire stepped in, still in human form. He looked straight at her.

China ran for the railing, vaulted over it, dropping to the floor below. She landed on the bed. The woman shrieked beneath her. She accidentally whacked the man in the face with her elbow as she rolled off. She glanced back, saw Samuel jumping over the railing after her. Instead of landing on the terrified couple, he kicked off from the wall, hit the ground and came up to his feet in a run. China grabbed a lamp, smashed it into his head. He staggered and she folded the fingers of her left hand, each fingertip tapping the sigil on her palm one after another. The sigil glowed red and her hand closed round Samuel’s throat. He jerked upright and then pitched backwards.

She opened the door, took a peek, saw Foe and Mercy turning her way. She took the gun from her handbag, flicked off the safety and stepped out, firing. The gunshots sounded incredibly loud on this quiet Dublin night. Foe and Mercy ducked into the open doorway beside them, shoving Obloquy out of the way. China ran for the stairs. Went up.

She threw open the door at the top, ran out across the rooftop. She got to the other side and looked down. Only one balcony here. She hopped up on to the ledge. Voices behind her. She barely had time to look round before a stream of red energy burst from Mercy’s big mouth, went sizzling by her arm. China spun, lost her balance and her weapon, fell, tried to land on the balcony, but her trajectory was off. She flung out a hand, grabbed an iron rail and her body snapped, almost jerking her shoulder from its socket. Grimacing against the pain, she hung, swaying, six floors above the street.

There was a man standing in the window beneath the balcony, staring straight at her. She motioned to his window with her free hand, miming opening it. He appeared unable to move.

She forced a smile on to her face even as her free hand went up to grab on to another rail. The pain from her right arm was starting to streak through her.

“Open the window,” she mouthed to him.

With barely a blink, the man fumbled for the latch. When it wouldn’t open, he frowned, took his eyes off China for the first time since he’d seen her, and tried again. He looked up, shaking his head in abject dismay. It wouldn’t open.

“Break it,” she mouthed.

He nodded, went away, and a moment later a chair smashed through the glass. Working quickly, he cleared the jagged pieces from the sill.

“Get ready to catch me,” China called out.

“I love you,” he called back.

“Prove it by catching me,” she said, and started to swing. Back and forth she went, picking up momentum, kicking her legs up high in front and then kicking them back behind her, and when her wrists couldn’t take any more she swung forward and let herself go – and the nice man caught her.

He pulled her inside and fell back, and she fell on top of him.

“I love you,” he said again.

“You’re sweet,” she replied.

She got up, cradling her right arm, and hurried out of the room. She took the stairs down, arriving in the lobby just as the squad cars pulled up outside. She slipped into the kitchens, smiling at the chef who was preparing someone’s midnight feast. He whimpered at her as she passed.

The rear door led into a narrow alley. She stepped on something disgusting, felt it squish between her toes, and kept going. She hailed a cab, could only stand four minutes of the driver’s adulation before she threw him some money and got out.

Breaking into the department store was child’s play. She cleaned her feet as best she could, and dressed in dark jeans and a loose T-shirt. She pulled on a pair of boots with sensible heels and a black jacket, then tied her hair back into a ponytail. Walked by the make-up section without even glancing at it, and slipped out, into the street.

Had it not been for Eliza Scorn, she would still have Skulduggery’s friendship to rely on. As it was, the Sanctuary was the last place she wanted to go. She’d deal with these thugs the same way she dealt with every problem that reared its head – alone, and with an abundance of style.

hen Trebuchet had told them about the secret way into the research facility, it had sounded so much more impressive than it actually was.

He told them about the shaft, a tunnel that opened on the surface and took natural light and fresh water and clean air downwards into the earth. He described it as small but wide, almost as wide as the stream it was embedded in. He told them its trajectory was diagonal, and that it recycled air and water, and how it was a revolutionary idea when it was first built. Over the centuries, however, the facility grew and changed, and new ideas, technologies and magic arose to take the place of the shaft and make it redundant. These days, he said, barely anyone even knew it had even existed. They certainly didn’t know it could be used as an entry point.

Valkyrie crouched down and peered into the shaft. “It’s a hole,” she said.

The Dead Men were dumping their backpacks on the bank of the stream. The water lapped at Valkyrie’s ankles. She measured the opening. It ran from the tip of her elbow to the third knuckle of her outstretched hand.

She stood. “Are you sure we’ll be able to fit?”

Skulduggery was first to come over. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he said. He had collapsed the frame under his clothes, reducing his size drastically.

Valkyrie glared. “I’m actually not worried about you. I’m worried about the rest of us. What if the shaft gets narrower in the middle or something?”

“It doesn’t.”

“But what if it does?”

“It doesn’t.”

“I’m just saying, it’s … it’s going to be very tight.”

His head swivelled to her. “You won’t get stuck.”

“But—”

“You just have to close your eyes and take deep breaths. Once we climb through, the angle of the shaft will take us down fairly quickly. We’re not going to be in there for longer than fifteen or twenty seconds, and the dimensions remain constant for the entire journey. To be honest, I think we’ll be going too fast for you to have time to be nervous about the space. You’ll be fine, Valkyrie.”

The rest of the Dead Men joined them.

“Aw, hell,” said Saracen when he saw what they had to fit through.

Valkyrie gave him a half-smile. “You claustrophobic, too?” she asked.

“No,” Shudder answered for him, “just fat.”

Vex and Ghastly laughed while Saracen glared.

“I am a healthy weight,” he said. “I just … I might be a little
too
healthy to make it to the bottom.”

“If he’s staying, I’m staying,” Valkyrie said immediately.

“Neither of you are staying,” said Skulduggery. “Saracen, suck in your gut and you won’t have a problem. It’s Ghastly and Anton who should be worried. They’re the biggest of us.”

Saracen grinned. “Hear that, Anton? Maybe instead of lifting all those weights you should have joined me in eating a few pies.”

“I’ve never lifted weights in my life,” Shudder responded. “My muscle mass is a natural part of my being genetically superior to you.”

Saracen looked at him, then looked away. “I have no comeback to that.”

Ravel was the first to sit in the stream and slide his legs into the shaft. “Oh my God,” he said, immediately tensing. “The freezing water has just gone down the back of my trousers. Perhaps we should rethink this.”

“Too late for thinking,” said Skulduggery. “Everyone get ready.”

Valkyrie pulled her trousers up as high as they’d go, then sat in the water with her legs in the shaft. So far so good. When everyone was in position, Skulduggery got to his hands and knees.

“Of course,” said Vex. “You just have to go head first, don’t you?”

“I like to be different,” Skulduggery said.

The cold water lapped at Valkyrie’s back and slipped down her trousers. She winced.

“Not nice, is it?” said Ravel.

“I really don’t want to do this,” Saracen whined.

Skulduggery gave a shrug. “I’m not going to force you. I’m not going to order you. Instead, I’m just going to say one little thing, and this applies to all of you.”

They looked at him. He tilted his head.

“Race you.”

Vex was the first to move, then Ghastly, and then Valkyrie pushed herself through and she was suddenly sliding down the wet slope, picking up speed with every metre. She hit a bump and banged her knee and scraped her chest off the concrete above, almost started turning, but then she felt the air nudge her back in place. She opened her eyes, saw Skulduggery hurtling down beside her, head first, his arms open and his hands splayed, keeping everyone in check.

She hit her knee again and straightened her legs. She grabbed her chest and pressed down and turned her head to the side, making herself as streamlined and flat as possible. She could feel her thundering heartbeat under her hand, and resisted the urge to scream. Skulduggery was right. The sheer speed she was travelling at, combined with the unmatchable exhilaration of how that felt, meant that any notion of claustrophobia had been left back up on the surface.

This was amazing.

Water splashed in her face and she blinked it away. She saw Saracen, sucking in his gut and grinning like a lunatic. On the other side of him was Ghastly. She saw him scrape against the top a few times. It looked painful. Beyond him was Vex, his T-shirt curled up around his midsection.

Valkyrie checked her own T-shirt. Yep, it was up over her midsection, too. Her fingers brushed against the hand-shaped scar that was burned into her belly, and then the shaft suddenly brightened and her eyes flickered down just as she was spat out into open space. She tumbled, then caught herself in the air and landed gently in knee-deep water.

They were in a large chamber with many angled vents and openings. Moss climbed the crackled walls. There was a single door and lots of rusted levers all in a row.

“Well, that wasn’t bad at all,” Saracen said, patting his stomach. “Ghastly, you enjoy that?”

Ghastly winced, and rubbed his chest. “I think I may have lost a nipple up there.”

Skulduggery climbed the steps out of the water and tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. “Dexter.”

Vex joined him, his hand already crackling with power. They looked back at Saracen.

“It’s all clear,” he said. “No one around.”

Dexter blasted the lock, and Skulduggery pulled the door open.

Valkyrie hurried up with the rest of them. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she was starting to feel things normally again, and she scowled. Nothing worse than soggy underwear.

The corridor was old and cold and barely lit. She watched the Dead Men check weapons.

“We’re in the old facility right now,” Skulduggery said, keeping his voice low. “They should be waiting to spring the ambush at the entry point Lamour gave us. Instead, we’re going to set up our own ambush, and bring them to us. Valkyrie, at the end of this corridor, we’ll be going up. According to Trebuchet, Lamour and the Engineer should be beneath us, so that’s where you’re going. Down.”

“You still think she should go alone?” Ravel asked.

“The plan doesn’t change,” Skulduggery said. “Valkyrie can handle it. Besides, it’s going to take all six of us to keep Mandat’s forces at bay long enough for our reinforcements to swoop in and save us. Providing they’re even around.”

Ravel looked at Saracen. “Well? Will they be here?”

“I can’t tell the future, Dexter.”

“Then what use
are
you?”

“When you have the Engineer,” Skulduggery said as he passed Valkyrie a small wooden ball, “bring it back to this room, then come find us.”

“How will I know where you are?” she asked.

“Just follow the explosions.”

Valkyrie twisted both halves of the cloaking sphere, and a bubble of invisibility blossomed out to cover her. She put the sphere in her jacket pocket and started down the stairs, her quick footsteps masked before they could start to echo round the stairwell.

From lower down, she heard voices. She slowed to a stop, and peered over the railing. Four people – three women and a man – walking up, talking French. They took up the entire width of the staircase. There was no way she could squeeze by, but the alternative was to go back up. Well, either go back up or jump over them.