The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,67

you?”

Angelo puffed out his pigeon chest. “My dad told me.”

“Ah,” said Satan. “Well, that’s disappointing. I was looking forward to revealing that.” He paced round the metal frames that held both boys, examining Angelo from all angles.

“You’ve spent such a long time up there,” he said. “Now it’s time you joined us down here for a while and indulged your dark side.”

Angelo frowned. “What?”

The Dark Lord was interrupted before he could reply by the sound of a ringing phone. Eliza, the hunchbacked demon with the liquid bottle, flipped open a handset and pressed it to her ear.

“Yes?”

She listened intently, watched by the other four people in the room. After a moment, she moved the phone away from her ear.

“It’s the fourth circle, sir. About the hot pokers. They’re asking should they go through the eyes or up the bottom?”

Satan tapped a finger against his chin as he considered this. “Why not both?”

The hunchback nodded, spoke the instruction into the phone, then snapped it closed.

“Where was I?” Satan asked. He rocked back on his heels. “Ah, yes. Put him in the chair.”

At that, everything seemed to grind into slow motion. Zac saw Haures lunge for Angelo, heard Angelo cry out in panic and fear. Shapes moved in the corners of Zac’s eyes. He turned and saw a dozen or more demons in surgical clothing swarming towards the reclining chair. Had they been there the entire time, or was there a door behind him? A way out? An escape route? He twisted his neck, trying to see, but all he saw was white wall and silver worktop, and all he heard were Angelo’s squeals as Haures unhooked him and carried him over towards the chair.

“What are you doing with him?” Zac cried. He pulled at his chains, but they held fast. “Let him go. Leave him alone.”

Angelo was bucking and thrashing in Haures’s arms, kicking out with his bare feet and biting at anything that came within reach. He shouted angrily. He pleaded and sobbed. He tried everything he could to stop them putting him in that chair, but then he was on it, and then he was strapped in, and then he was trapped.

The demons in the surgeon outfits chittered excitedly behind their masks. Their dark eyes swept over Angelo, appraising him even as their gnarled hands rubbed together with glee.

“The book.”

Zac tore his eyes from Angelo. The Dark Lord stood beside him, a heavy leather-bound book balanced on the palm of one hand. A small padlock and strap fastened the pages closed. On the cover, the words: THY BOOK OF EVERYTHING glowed faintly in shades of gold.

“What, you’re just giving it to me?” he asked.

Satan shrugged. “I don’t want it. It has served its purpose. Keeping it would start a war, and that’s the last thing anyone needs.”

“You’ve already started a war,” Zac told him. “If you don’t let Angelo go, they’ll send an army.”

“Will they indeed?” said Satan. “We’ll see.”

He walked behind Zac and unzipped the backpack. The book was shoved roughly inside before the zip was fastened once more. Zac looked back at Angelo. Something like an oxygen mask had been slipped over his face, but the gas flowing in through his mouth and nostrils was a dark, brooding red. Angelo’s eyes were bulging, staring up at the ceiling, but he was no longer fighting against the straps.

Satan appeared in front of Zac again. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of your friend.” He tapped himself on the forehead. “Wait, I forgot – he isn’t your friend, he’s your colleague. Isn’t that right?”

Zac didn’t reply, just kept watching the boy in the chair.

“You have what you came for, Zac Corgan. You can return a hero and have all your sins washed away. Play your cards right and you’ll never have to see me again.” He smiled thinly. “And won’t your grandfather be pleased to have you home?”

The mention of his grandfather made Zac look Satan’s way. The Dark Lord’s face became solemn. “Anyway, he was miserable up there. No friends. All alone. And that tattoo? Horrible. Who’s to say he won’t be happier down here with us? With his daddy and all his aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters.”

Zac could feel the demon inside his head, twisting his thoughts and fogging his brain. “I’m... I’m not leaving without him,” he hissed. “I’m not leaving him here.”

The Dark Lord Satan, Father of All Lies, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, nodded. “Oh, but the thing is,” he said, “you