The 13th Horseman - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,45

Mel said. She gave a low whistle. “He probably wouldn’t. What do you think it is?”

Drake studied the bits of metal. He didn’t recognise any of them, although he recognised their shiny chrome colour. “Not sure,” he said, only half lying.

Mr Franks took a few faltering steps into the cupboard and looked down over their shoulders. “It’s probably nothing,” he said. “Just... some sort of project, or something.”

“Yeah, Project Destroy the World,” Mel said dramatically. “Or Project Build a Home Computer in Sixty Collectable Parts. One or the other.”

“It’s not like any computer I’ve ever seen,” Mr Franks said. Despite his initial concerns about them being in the cupboard, he couldn’t help but be interested by the components on the table. He picked up a circuit board and studied it. “It looks so... advanced,” he said. “Where did he get his hands on something like this?”

“You could ask him,” suggested Mel.

“Ha,” said Mr Franks, without humour. “Yeah, there’s an idea.”

Mel swallowed and pointed to the cupboard door. “No, I mean, you could ask him.”

Mr Franks and Drake both set down the components they were holding, and turned round. The skeletal frame of Dr Black stood in the doorway, his face drawn in anger.

“What... do you think... you are doing?” he demanded in a voice like grinding teeth.

“Dr Black, there you are,” Mr Franks said. He walked towards the other teacher, trying to smile, but failing miserably. “I can explain; you see we were—”

The back of Dr Black’s hand caught Mr Franks across the side of the face. The younger teacher spun until he hit the closest wall. With a faint whimper, he slid down the wall and on to the lino floor.

“Whoa,” Mel said. For the first time since Drake had met her, she looked genuinely shocked. “That was harsh.”

Dr Black took a step into the cupboard. Behind him, the door swung closed. “Mr Finn. Miss Monday,” he said, over-pronouncing every syllable. “I told you not to come here again. I warned you to stay away, but yet here you are, trying to interfere with my plans.” He took another step towards them. “Do you think you can stop me? Is that it? Don’t you realise the irony? It isn’t your job to try to stop me. It’s your job to stand at the sidelines and cheer me on.”

“You are him,” Drake said. He’d had his suspicions, but having them confirmed still came as a shock. “You’re Death Nine.”

“At your service,” Dr Black said, bowing his head just slightly.

“Death Nine? What are you talking about?” Mel asked.

“The others told me why you left. What are you planning to do?” Drake asked. He couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice.

“First, I’m going to get my strength back. And then I’m going to do something –” he waved a hand around, as if searching for a fitting word – “spectacular.”

“Like what?”

Dr Black gave a low chuckle. “I’m not a Bond villain, Mr Finn. Do you really think I’m going to tell you every detail of my scheme?”

“Well, I kind of hoped...”

“I will tell you when I’m going to put it into action, though. When I’m going to start the ball rolling on Armageddon, so to speak.”

“When?”

Dr Black reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black smartphone. He swiped a finger across the screen a few times, then stabbed a thumb against one of the icons.

“Armageddon,” Dr Black said, with a callous smile. “There’s an app for that.”

“What did you do?” Drake demanded. “What have you done?”

“I’ve started the ball rolling on the end of the world, but you shouldn’t concern yourself with what I’ve done. You should worry about what I’m going to do next.” He leaned in closer. “I’m going to kill you, Mr Finn. Right now. And after I’ve killed you, I’m going to kill her.” He shifted his gaze to Mel for just a second, but in that moment, Drake saw his chance.

Roaring, he threw himself at the teacher, shoulder lowered, chin tucked into his chest. War had said that in human form the previous Death would be powerless. He looked frail too. One solid hit should be enough to take him down.

Drake ploughed into Dr Black, but it felt like he’d run head-first into a wall. The teacher didn’t so much as take a single backwards step. He caught the bent-over boy by the waist, hoisted him into the air, then smashed him back down on the floor beside Mr Franks. Drake was surprised – not