Читать книгу Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12 - Derek Landy - Страница 174

he tower blocks rose from the cement like dreary canyon walls, oppressive in stature and depressing in structure. Built in the 1960s, most of the towers had been demolished decades later in an attempt to get rid of the drugs and crime that had seeped through, permeating everything. Six of the seven Ballymun Flats had been flattened, the Sheriff Street Flats had been torn down, the Flats at Fatima Mansions redeveloped and replaced. By the time Dublin City Council got round to the Faircourt Flats, however, they had run out of money.

Towers, thirteen stories high, of tiny apartments stacked side by side. No grass. No trees. One little shop, defaced by graffiti. Rusted shopping trolleys and old mattresses.

The gleaming Bentley parked beside a burnt-out husk of a car and Skulduggery, Valkyrie and Caelan got out. Skulduggery clicked on the car alarm and they followed Caelan through a rubbish-strewn tunnel, as grey as the sky it was blocking. They emerged on the other side and walked across a concrete square to a stairwell that stank of human waste. They passed no one.

The elevator was broken and the climb to the top burned the muscles of Valkyrie’s legs. Skulduggery and Caelan didn’t even notice it.

Still they passed no one.

They reached the top, where every second door was paint-flecked steel, with the locks and the bolts on the outside. Heavy bars criss-crossed the windows.

Caelan hammered his fist against one of the steel doors and they waited. There was the click of a lock being undone on the other side and the door cracked open. A young woman looked out. She was pale and sweating, her eyes red-rimmed and jittery.

“We’re here to see Moloch,” Caelan said and the woman licked her lips, glanced behind her and slipped out. Valkyrie watched her hurry away, arms wrapped around herself.

Valkyrie followed the others into the apartment. It was unfurnished. There were grooves in the walls, long and deep, and more scratches on the back of the steel door. This was where a vampire lived – where a vampire raged and fought to leave. There was another steel door in the living room, leading into the next apartment. In much the same way as China had knocked down the walls in her building to accommodate her library, the vampire Moloch had expanded his living space to accommodate both sides of his nature.

In this furnished apartment they found Moloch. He may have been handsome once, but the years had turned his sharp features cruel. His hair was thinning and his eyes burned with intelligence. He wore tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt, despite the cold, and he sat on the couch, hands laced behind his head, master of his domain.

“You scared away my breakfast,” he said in a thick Dublin accent. His eyes drank in Valkyrie. “But it looks like you’ve come with a healthier option. There’s a syringe on the table beside you, love. One pint of your blood is all I’ll be needing.”

“It’s an interesting set-up you’ve got here,” Skulduggery said, ignoring his comment. “Let me guess. The other tenants provide you and your brethren with nourishment, while you protect them from the drug dealers and petty criminals. Am I about right?”

“You sound like you disapprove,” Moloch said. “But isn’t it better than vampires going around killing mortals? This way we don’t have to be the hunters and they don’t have to be afraid.”

“Someone should have probably told that to the girl who ran out of here.”

“The first time is daunting,” Moloch shrugged. “But enough about our situation. I’d heard you were gone. The story I heard, you were pulled into hell and you were gone for good.”

“I was,” Skulduggery said. “I’m not any more.”

Moloch cracked a smile. “The skeleton detective, standing here in my own home. Imagine that. All this time we’ve managed to keep a non-existent profile. You didn’t even know we were here, did you? So what’s next I wonder? You send the Cleavers in?”

“They’re looking for Dusk,” Caelan said.

Moloch blurred from the couch and then Caelan was gone from Valkyrie’s side. There was a crash and she whirled. Moloch had Caelan by the throat, pressing him up against the far wall.

“You led them here,” Moloch snarled. “You led them to my home, you ignorant pup. I should rip your head off right now.”

Skulduggery had his hands in his pockets, seemingly unperturbed by the possibility.

“We forced him to bring us here,” Valkyrie tried.

Moloch tightened his grip and Caelan kicked uselessly, but then he released him. Moloch turned.

“Valkyrie Cain,” he said, wiping the spittle from his lips. “Two years ago you killed my Infected brothers. You led them into the sea, so I hear.”

“I jumped into the sea,” Valkyrie responded. “It’s not my fault they jumped in after me.”

“You misunderstand, young one. I’m thanking you. If they’d been allowed to turn, one of them would probably have gone on a rampage through the city, or been caught on camera, or been seen doing something. It would have been disastrous for us.

“Creating new vampires is an art form. The Infected have to be contained, trained, taught how to behave. They’re not zombies, for God’s sake. But Dusk views them as an army, not family.”

“He sent fourteen fresh vampires into the Sanctuary last night,” Skulduggery said.

“Is that so?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“I sleep late. What makes you think I’ll help you anyway? We’re not all tortured souls like Caelan here pretends to be. I don’t work with sorcerers. And I sure don’t work with Sanctuary agents.”

“You’ve been wondering how to solve a problem like Dusk for a long time. Every morning you’ve been waiting for an opportunity to come knocking on your door. Well, we knocked.”

Moloch considered. Behind him, Caelan stayed flat against the wall, staring at the back of Moloch’s head like he was boring a hole through it.

Moloch pulled back the rug, revealing a steel trapdoor. It was big and round, and looked heavy, but Moloch opened it without difficulty. Valkyrie and Skulduggery stepped to the edge and peered into the gloom.

“It’s where we keep them,” Moloch said. “You’d be surprised how many people living in these buildings want to be like us. Strength, speed, long life and no magic required. Just a bite. Or maybe you wouldn’t be surprised. Poverty, unemployment, no prospects, no self-respect – what else is there to aim for? The point is, being a vampire is just like any other attractive employment opportunity – there are a lot of people applying for a small number of places.

“So whenever we need more, we gather the applicants together, take a little bite and dump them down this hole. For two days they fight among themselves. Whoever is left at the end, once the infection is complete, joins the family.”

“And the rest are slaughtered along the way,” Skulduggery said.

“Darwinian in its simplicity, don’t you think?”

“How does this help us find Dusk?” Valkyrie asked.

“One of my potential brothers down there was not infected by us – he was infected by one of Dusk’s vampires. He saw their lair before he managed to escape and come here.”

She frowned. “How do we ask him?”

“You’re going to have to do that in person,” Moloch said, and moved. He crashed into Skulduggery, sending him hurtling off his feet. Caelan came forward and Moloch threw him across the room, then he grabbed Valkyrie.

“By killing those Infected,” he snarled, “you did us a favour. Thanks for that. But I can’t let that crime go unpunished.”

She raised her arm, but he was already pushing her and she cried out as she fell into the hole. She twisted as she fell, hands out against the darkness, dropping through another hole in the next apartment. She felt pressure on her palms as the floor rushed to meet her and she pushed against the air. Her descent slowed and she got her feet under her, landing in a crouch.

Dim light drifted from low-wattage bulbs, illuminating faded wallpaper, ratty carpet and not much else. She’d fallen from the thirteenth floor, through the twelfth, and now she was in the eleventh. Moloch had already closed the trapdoor above her, sealing her in. Valkyrie focused and tested the air, feeling movement around her. She was not alone.

She stepped back against the wall, saw a gap that had been knocked out of it and slipped through. There was another gap ahead, and through the murk she saw yet another beyond that. Every apartment on this floor was clumsily linked together, and by the looks of it, every door and window was bricked over.

No, she told herself, not every door. There would be one door, undoubtedly steel and locked from the other side, that allowed the last vampire standing to get out of here.

She just had to find it.

There was a snarl, somewhere to her left. A flurry of movement and a man darted into the light, and she pushed at the air and caught him just as he jumped at her. She spun, gripping the shadows and punching them into the chest of the woman coming up behind her. Then she ran.

She jumped through a hole in the next wall, straight into the arms of another Infected. His mouth was open, sharpened teeth diving for her throat. She slammed her forehead into his face and he howled in pain and dropped her. She staggered, dazed, knocking against a small table. Her hand found a lamp and she swung it into his head. The light exploded and darkness swarmed around them, but she was already pushing by him.

There were three Infected waiting for her. She clicked her fingers and set fire to a sofa, then sent it hurtling towards them. The Infected dodged out of the way and she ran by, through a door into a dark kitchen, out through the wall, tripping over herself and stumbling into the next apartment’s bedroom.

Something rushed her and for a moment she flew through empty space. The wall smacked into her and as she fell, she saw the man lunging at her again. She tried to push at the air, but he grabbed her wrist. He squeezed and the pain brought her to her knees. His other hand lifted her and he whirled, sending her through into the living room. She landed on a table, scattering whatever junk had been piled on top of it, and rolled off.

Another one grabbed her. Valkyrie jammed her forearm into his mouth as he tried to bite her, forcing his head back, and with her free hand she sent a half-fist into his throat. He gagged and fell away, and a weight landed on her. She went down and a fist cracked against her cheek and the world spun. She covered up as the Infected sent punches raining down on top of her, her coat sleeves absorbing much of the punishment. The others would be coming. If she stayed down for any length of time, they’d be all over her.

She clicked her fingers and thrust a handful of flame into the Infected’s face. He screeched and recoiled. She pushed at the air and he was flung back, crashing his head into the wall. She got up. Through the gloom she saw more of them running in. This wasn’t going to work. Skulduggery could have battled his way to the door, but she wasn’t Skulduggery. She needed a new plan.

“Stop!” she shouted.

Amazingly, the Infected stopped.

“I’m not here to fight you,” Valkyrie said loudly and clearly. “I’m not here to hurt you or compete with you. Moloch sent me down here to talk. He wants one of you to help me. Do you understand?”

They looked at her like she was food, but they stayed where they were. Somewhere in the darkness an Infected growled.

“I need to find Dusk. One of his vampires infected one of you. You were brought to his lair. I need to know where that is.”

Somewhere to her right, there was another growl.

“If you don’t help me,” she continued, glaring at them, “you’re all going to burn. Do you hear me? Moloch has no time for vampires who disobey him.”

She figured about half of them were growling now and she was seriously regretting this plan. Her back was to the wall and they were gathered in front of her, ready to rip her apart the moment she said the wrong thing.

“My name is Valkyrie Cain,” she shouted over the noise. “You may have heard of me. I killed twenty of you two years ago and I’ll kill twenty more today and I won’t think it too many.”

The growling stopped.

“I’m not down here for the good of my health, so I’m going to ask just one more time – which one of you knows where Dusk is?”

She saw them glance at each other, and then one of them, a girl with a shaved head, stepped forward. She pointed at the unconscious Infected on the floor, the one Valkyrie had burned.

“He does,” she said.

Valkyrie’s shoulders sagged. “You’re kidding me.”

“He was talking about it earlier, before we were thrown down here.”

“Did he happen to mention where he was brought?”

“Not that I heard.”

“Anyone? Did he mention it to anyone?”

No one answered. One of them started to growl again.

“Where’s the door?” she asked quickly, before she lost them completely. “The steel door out of here, Moloch told me to find it. Where is it?”

The skinhead’s eyes were once again locked on to her, but she managed to nod her head to the next apartment over.

“OK,” Valkyrie said, preparing herself. “OK.”

The first Infected came at her like a bullet, and she sidestepped and slapped her fist into his back, sending him into the wall behind her. The skinhead girl charged and Valkyrie kicked her knee then kneed her face. She whipped the shadows at the next Infected who came close and sent a wave of darkness into another. She clicked her fingers and threw fireballs and manoeuvred over to the unconscious man.

The moment there was a break in the attacks, she squatted down and lifted him by his collar. She snapped her palms, sending his ragdoll body across the room, knocking down the Infected like bowling pins.

Hands reached for her as she ran after him. The air shimmered and she cleared a path, reaching him and dragging him through the hole in the wall. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the outline of a door in the darkness. Now all she had to do was hold them off until Skulduggery did what he tended to do – arrive in the nick of time.

The unconscious Infected murmured.

“Hey,” she said into his ear. “Moloch wants to know where Dusk is.”

He groaned. She slapped him across the face, hard.

“Where is Dusk? Where were you taken?”

“A castle,” he muttered, as a dark shape came through the hole and collided with her.

They went sprawling in the mess on the floor. She grabbed a chunk of debris and smacked it into the face of her attacker. She rolled, now she was on top, and punched him with her left, and it felt like her hand had broken. She got up and he kicked her legs from under her.

Light flooded the room as the door opened behind her and hands grabbed her. Suddenly she was being hauled out.

“No!” she cried. “That one knows where they are!”

She was outside now, pressed against the concrete railing, looking out at the other tower blocks and the grey sky and the eleven-storey drop beneath her. She spun round to tell Skulduggery to get the Infected man she’d burned. But it wasn’t Skulduggery.

Dusk lifted her and threw her over the railing.