The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,64

Stay here with me.”

Another shout came, even more panicked than the last.

“Angelo?”

Zac tried to stand, but his grandfather’s hand clamped his like a vice. “Stay here with me,” he said, and his wheeze became a menacing growl. “Don’t leave me again.”

Angelo was screaming, calling out for help.

“I have to check on him,” Zac said. “I’ll be back in one minute, OK?”

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Phillip warned, and now the growl had become a roar. Zac looked down at the chair, and panic made him yank his hand away. The person sitting there was no longer his grandfather. It had his grandfather’s skin, but things wriggled inside it as if trying to force their way free. The withered hand grabbed for his again, but Zac was backing away, making for the door.

Phillip’s mouth opened, and Zac saw poisonous shapes twisting there at the back of the throat. “Stay... with... me,” a chorus of voices insisted. “I’m... your... grandfather.”

“No,” said Zac. “You’re not.”

The kitchen door was blocked from the other side. That didn’t stop him. He powered a kick at it, driving his foot against the wood. There was a splintering crack and the door flew wide open.

He saw Angelo standing in what looked like his bedroom. A demon lurked right behind him. In one fluid movement Zac reached into his jacket. There was a thwip as he used up the last tranquilliser dart and the demon slumped down on to the floor. Angelo turned as he fell, and stood staring at him until Zac spoke.

“You all right?”

Angelo shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “That was my dad.”

“Oh. Right. Well, um, sorry I shot your dad.”

“My dad’s a demon,” said Angelo, his voice trembling.

Zac looked down at the slumbering Murmur. “God, yeah. So he is. Who knew?”

“He got parenting tips from Darth Vader,” Angelo continued. He turned to Zac, and Zac realised the boy was smiling. “How great is that? My dad likes Star Wars. He’s just like me.”

Angelo spotted the writhing shape in the doorway. It was squirming on the ground, black goo dripping from its nose and mouth.

“Ugh, what’s that?” he asked, recoiling in horror.

“No one important,” Zac said, pushing the door closed. There was a loud hammering on it almost at once. Angelo yelped in panic.

“Zaaaaaaac,” wheezed a voice on the other side of the wood. “Heeeelp meeee, Zaaaaaaac.”

Another low drone made the room shake. “What was that?” Zac asked.

“My dad said more demons are coming,” Angelo said. “What do we do?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Zac admitted.

“Pleeeease, Zaaaaaac. Heeeelp meeee.”

“Oh, cut it out,” Zac said, thudding a fist against the door.

“Pray!” Angelo suggested. “We should pray!”

“I told you, I’m not praying.” He grabbed the handle of the door and held it closed. He looked back over at Angelo, and that was when he saw the cat.

It appeared to step from thin air right beside Angelo. It looked lazily up at them both in turn. The animal’s fur was ragged and filthy and coming out in clumps. It was the size of a kitten, but looked to have lived through at least eight of its nine lives.

Zac and Angelo watched the cat in silence as it sat down on the floor, wagged its tail and said, “Woof.”

“E’S FOUND ’EM,” bellowed a voice from within the cupboard. “Toxie’s found ’em. They’re in here.”

The bedroom around them went fuzzy at the edges. Zac felt the door handle melt away in his grip as the room became wispy like smoke. Far overhead a series of powerful lights flickered on, revealing what looked like a vast empty warehouse.

Where the poster of Jesus had been there now stood demons of assorted sizes. They ranged from around twenty centimetres in height to well over two metres, and they all carried ropes or nets or baseball bats with nails through them. The smallest demon seemed to be the brains of the outfit.

“There they is,” he sneered, hopping up and down on spindly, frog-like legs. “There they is!” He scratched the cat behind the ears. It involved standing on tiptoes. “Who’s a good Hellhound? Who’s a good Hellhound? Toxie is. Toxie is!”

“Hellhound?” said Zac. “That thing’s supposed to be a dog?”

The little frog-demon ignored the question. “Thought you could give us the slip, eh?” he asked, glaring tiny daggers at Zac and Angelo. “You’re lucky we found you when we did or things could’ve gotten right messy.”

The monstrous group parted as another figure stepped from thin air directly behind them. This demon was the largest