The Power of Five Oblivion (67 page)

The Zodiac hit the beach, the rubber grinding against the shingle. Greyson cut the engine and lifted the propeller clear. They sat there for a few seconds in complete silence. This was a bad idea. Richard was quite certain of it. There was a sick feeling in his stomach. But it was already too late. They had arrived.

The two of them climbed out and stood once again on land. Richard hadn’t told Matt but in the end he had brought a gun with him. It was concealed in his jacket pocket. He reached down and felt the weight of it through the material. He knew that it was ridiculous, small and insignificant compared with the danger that was immense and all around them. But it still gave him a certain comfort.

And it wasn’t the only weapon he had brought.

Greyson was crouching at the back of the Zodiac, watching them. “Are you OK?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sure,” Richard muttered.

“There’s no one around. The beach is empty. Your friend doesn’t seem to be here either.”

“He’ll come,” Matt said.

“OK. Well, good luck to you.” He threw the engine into reverse and the Zodiac backed out into the ocean, then spun round and drove away.

They were alone.

“I know it’s a bit late, but are you sure you want to go through with this?” Richard asked.

“Much too late,” Matt said. He took a step forward and his foot came down on a piece of loose shingle. He lost his balance and put a hand out to steady himself, holding onto Richard’s arm. It was a moment Richard would never forget. “It’s all going to work out in the end, Richard. Remember that. But I’m glad you’re with me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be here with anyone else. I know I can trust you. When the time comes, you’ll do what’s right.”

What did he mean by that? But there was no time.

Scott had appeared.

He had been standing well back in the shadows, a solitary figure wearing a black padded jacket with a fur collar. It was impossible to say how he had got here but he was already walking towards them, his feet crunching on the shingle. Richard felt a mixture of emotions seeing him. How long had it been since they had all been together? He remembered the garden at Nazca after the death of Professor Chambers. Scott had stormed off angrily, believing they were all against him. He had always been the outsider, identical to his brother in appearance but different in every other way. Matt had had his doubts about him even then. But none of them could have guessed that he would change sides and join the Old Ones.

So what had changed his mind and brought him here tonight? Richard glanced over his shoulder and saw that the Zodiac was already far away, heading back towards the boats. As Scott drew nearer, Richard became increasingly uneasy. This was a grim, lonely place. Everything about it – the beach, the cliff face, the sea – seemed harsh and inhospitable. If Scott really had been able to escape from the fortress, why hadn’t he simply walked into the camp?

Scott had come about halfway across the beach but now he stopped, waiting for them to climb up to him. Matt and Richard moved away from the water’s edge, every step taking them further away from safety. At last they were face-to-face.

“Hello, Scott,” Matt said.

“Hi, Matt.” Scott nodded in the direction of Richard. “I thought I told you to come alone.”

“You know Richard. I didn’t think you’d mind if he came along.”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m glad he came.” Scott tried to smile. “It’s good to see you again, Richard.”

“It’s good to see you, Scott.” Richard tried to sound as if he meant it.

“So here we are again.” Scott made a gesture. He was wearing gloves. All his clothes looked brand new and expensive.

“You said you could help us,” Matt said.

“That’s right, Matt. That’s what I said.”

At that moment, Richard knew with absolute certainty that they shouldn’t have come. The boy who was talking wasn’t the Scott they had known. He seemed to have aged ten years – not in appearance but in the way he stood there, the way he talked. Skua Bay was a cold, arid place but it suited him well. Scott had been touched by evil and it had contaminated him. The boy he had once been was already dead.

“How many people were there camped out on the ice?” Scott went on. “Two thousand? Three? I guess quite a lot of them died this morning. What a waste of time that was! Who persuaded them that they had the slightest chance of winning the battle? I hope it wasn’t you, Matt. Because if it was, you have an awful lot of blood on your hands.”

Matt didn’t reply.

“You do realize that the whole lot of them could have been killed,” Scott went on. “By the way, that was a neat trick you pulled, breaking the ice. That was you, I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“It still wouldn’t have stopped them. The Old Ones could have jumped right over if they’d wanted, and kept coming. In fact, right now they could be out there, destroying the boats one by one. But that’s not going to happen. That’s the good news, Matt. Nobody else has to die.”

“And why is that, Scott?” Matt asked.

“Because that’s not what they want. What’s the point of ruling the world if there’s nobody left in it? They didn’t set up Oblivion and all the rest of it because they wanted to fight the World Army. They set it up because they wanted you.”

“And how are they going to get me?”

“They already have.”

The words could have been a signal. At that moment the beach came alive, suddenly exploding out and taking shape around them. They had been there all along, in front of their eyes. They had seen them without seeing them. Flies, in their millions. The entire cliff face peeled away. It wasn’t black at all. It was white. The whole surface, every last inch, had been made up of more flies, clinging to the snow. Richard hardly dared to breathe. The air darkened as the insects poured down on them, cutting off the sea and the sky, blocking out the light.

Scott had betrayed them after all. Richard saw the flies beginning to take the shape of fifty men, an entire platoon. Already he was pulling out his gun. He knew it would be useless against the soldiers. Even when they were solid, a bullet would pass right through them … he had seen as much in the battle, earlier that day. But they weren’t his target. He would kill Scott for what he had done. It didn’t matter that he was a Gatekeeper. He deserved to die.

You can’t shoot me, Richard. You can’t move
.

Scott hadn’t spoken the words. He had thought them. Richard felt him inside his head and instantly his arm came to a halt with the gun only half-raised, still pointing at the ground. He tried to step forward but his legs wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t even shout. He was locked into place, forced to watch the trap close in.

Fifty metres out at sea, Lieutenant Greyson saw the ambush and swung the Zodiac round, hitting the throttle. At the same time, he shouted into his radio transmitter. “Mayday! Mayday!”

Five rapid-response skimmers were already being launched, just as Cain had promised. But the Old Ones had been prepared for this too. In an instant, a creature appeared, plummeting out of the sky. It was a bird – but not one that belonged in this part of the world and it was a hundred sizes too big. Black feathers, a white collar around its neck, a curving beak … the bird was a South American condor. It swooped down over the Zodiac. One moment Greyson was there, leaning forward with his hand on the outboard motor, the next he had gone and the Zodiac was spinning in circles with nobody to guide it. It was impossible to say if he had been knocked into the sea or devoured. The condor let out an ear-splitting screech and soared back into the clouds. The other marines held back, knowing that if they tried to cross the water they would only die.

Matt was still standing opposite Scott, not moving as the soldiers formed. There was very little time left. Once they had solidified, they would take him.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” Scott said. “They told me what to do. I didn’t have any choice.”

“You don’t have to blame yourself,” Matt said. “I knew you were going to betray me.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Scott stared at Matt, suddenly angry. The soldiers were forming a circle around the two boys, arms and legs, swords and shields all defining themselves, being drawn out of the black haze. “If you knew, why did you come?”

“I told you in the dreamworld. We all have a part to play. This is yours.”

“To betray you?”

“Yes.”

The soldiers were ready. Matt wasn’t even trying to use his power. He simply stood there as they closed in.

“It was never my role to save the world,” Matt said.

“Then whose was it?”

“Yours.”

The nearest soldiers fell on Matt and on Richard, clubbing them down with shields that were as hard as steel. A kilometre away at sea, the commanders and marines watched helplessly through binoculars as the drama was played out, knowing there was nothing they could do.

Matt was stretched out on the shingle, unconscious. Richard was next to him. The fly-soldiers picked them up by their feet and dragged them away, disappearing in the haze. Scott stood utterly still, watching them go. He felt sick. He had known what he was doing but he had never thought it would be as bad as this.

“I knew you were going to betray me…”

Matt had known but he had still come.

The waves rolled in, breaking against the shoreline. Scott stood there for a long time, deep in thought. Then, finally, he sighed and, with heavy steps, set off back towards the fortress.

FIFTY-TWO

The cell was like an animal’s lair, deep underground and with no window, no electric light. It would have been pitch-dark but for the strange blue glow that hung in the air. The floor was covered with straw. Three of the walls were natural rock. The fourth contained a solid metal plate, which must have been the door but which seemed to have been welded into place.

Richard Cole had woken up here and had found himself alone. That was his first and his greatest fear. Scott had betrayed them after all and they had taken Matt. What were they doing with him? For the first time since this whole adventure had begun, Richard felt a sense of grief and hopelessness that threatened to tear him apart. He had flown all the way from Dubai, halfway round the world, to come to this evil place … and to what end? He had simply delivered Matt into the hands of the Old Ones. The two of them should never have gone to the meeting at Skua Bay. They should never have come to Antarctica at all.

Slowly, his thoughts turned to his own situation. He hadn’t been killed yet. The fly-soldiers had taken him alive. Could it be that they needed him for something? Or was this to be his end? As far as he could tell, he had been here for about twelve hours and nobody had brought him food or water. Maybe he had been sealed in here. This was his tomb and he had simply been left here to die. When he had first opened his eyes, he had slammed the heels of his hands against the door, shouting for attention. He had soon given up. Even if anyone could hear him, they weren’t going to come. And he could hear nothing. He had to fight against the sudden panic; the knowledge that he had been buried alive.

Why had Matt insisted on meeting Scott? It was obvious that this was going to happen. Lying on the straw, Richard felt a wave of fury that made him want to scream. How could Matt have been so stupid? How could
he
have been so stupid to let him have his way? Why hadn’t anyone – Cain, Lohan or Scarlett – done more to stop them? The questions were futile but they still tormented him. Once again he went over to the door and kicked out at it, shouting, making as much noise as he could.

Nobody came.

Richard forced himself to calm down. There was a danger he could lose his mind in here and then he would be no use to anybody. Perhaps that was what the Old Ones intended. But even now, even when everything had gone so wrong, he still had one tiny spark of hope. He had been aware of it the moment he had opened his eyes.

They had searched him when they had brought him here. They had taken the gun that he had been carrying. But, as impossible as it seemed, they had overlooked the other weapon he had brought, the knife that the Incas had given him – the gold
tumi
. It was still tucked into his belt, underneath his jacket, where he had been carrying it. He drew it out now and turned it over in his hands, examining his own reflection in the blade. It was a beautiful thing, carved with an Inca deity and a scattering of semi-precious stones inlaid in the hilt. And of course it was no accident that neither the fly-soldiers nor the prison guards had managed to find it. That was the knife’s power. It could never be found. It seemed so long ago since the Incas had given it to him. And yet he had it still. He remembered glimpsing Atoc as they launched the attack on the ice. The two of them hadn’t spoken but perhaps Atoc had been there for a reason, to remind Richard of what he had been given. One thing was certain. Richard needed the knife more than ever.

The knife was all he had left. Even as he slid it back into place, he knew that his sanity depended on it. The Old Ones might have written him off but in fact they had made their first mistake – and that told him they weren’t quite as powerful as they thought. Sooner or later, someone would come into the cell and when they did, they would be in for a surprise. Richard would go down fighting. He would feel better if he took one or two of them with him.

And if they didn’t come, if they left him to rot, the knife would give him a swifter end than the one they had planned. There was some comfort in that thought too.

Richard sat with his legs stretched out, watching the door. He wasn’t beaten yet. He was certain his moment would come.

Sitting behind his desk on the US
Pole Star
, Commander David Cain thought about his family, his career, his country and his religion … anything to stop him thinking about the events of the last twenty-four hours. He was on his own, seated in a room which looked more like a suite in a smart hotel than a cabin on a United States aircraft carrier. The walls were covered in green paper, the lights and furniture were antique. The portholes were concealed behind plush red velvet curtains that hung from the ceiling to the floor. A door led to a comfortably sized bedroom. The commander even had a private bathroom. But for the constant rocking movement beneath his feet, it would have been easy for him to forget that he was at sea.