The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,73

there’s a good chance I won’t be.”

Phillip nodded, as if not entirely surprised. “It’s something to do with this Angelo,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

Zac nodded again. He knew if he spoke now his voice would betray him and tears would surely follow.

“You’re going to help him,” Phillip said. “Aren’t you?”

“I’m the only one who can,” said Zac croakily.

Phillip reached over and rested a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “You know, Zac, wherever they are, your parents would be very proud,” he said. He smiled away tears of his own. “But not as proud as I am.”

Zac put his arms round the old man and buried his face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t be leaving you.”

Phillip stepped back. “We all have to do what we have to do, Zac,” he said, smiling again for his grandson’s sake. “I’ll be just fine. Right now Angelo needs you more. He’s scared, Zac. He’s so very, very scared.”

Zac looked into his granddad’s eyes. “How do you know?”

Phillip frowned. “I... I don’t know. I hear him sometimes. Crying out. So very afraid. Help him, Zac. You have to help him.”

“I’m going to. I will.”

“But... but he seems so far away. How will you get to him?”

Zac’s jaw clenched. “That bit I’ve got covered. I just have to make a couple of stops before I go.”

Zac sat on a wall, his feet dangling over the edge. He tried not to think of his granddad. If he thought of his granddad there was a chance he’d turn back, and how could he turn back knowing everything he knew? How could he live with himself if he did?

The backpack was heavier now. He could feel it pulling him, holding him back. It had been a struggle to fit everything inside, and even more difficult getting the zip closed afterwards. But the man from the toyshop had been very helpful, and between them they’d got the job done.

The people in the church hadn’t been quite so eager to assist. They’d been annoyed. Furious, even. But then religious people seemed to get furious at most things he did, and he’d long since decided not to care.

It was windy up there on the wall. He’d expected that. It was often windy up on the rooftops. The higher you went, the less cover there was from other buildings, and so the more the wind blew. Right now the wind was blowing very hard indeed.

He wished he could just jump. It would be easy if he could just jump. But he knew he never could. His instinct for survival would never allow him. That was why he’d had to make other arrangements.

“Hey, kid,” said a voice behind him. Right on time.

Zac swung himself back up on to the roof and saw his reflection in the Monk’s mirrored sunglasses. “You came.”

“You called. I gotta be honest, kid, I’ve offed a lot of folks in my time. Not one of them ever phoned me up afterwards. That really takes the cake.”

The Monk reached into his robe. A moment later, the gun came out. “You sure you wanna do this? You know what you’re giving up, right?”

Zac clipped the straps of the backpack together across his chest. “I have to,” he said. “I can’t leave him alone down there. And he’d do it for me. He’s... he’s a good kid.”

The Monk nodded. “That he is. Better than you an’ me, anyhow.”

“Better than you and me,” agreed Zac. He straightened his back and held his head high. “Do it.”

The Monk raised the pistol. “You got balls, kid, I’ll give you that.” He hesitated, his finger on the trigger. “Might not be any use to you, but you ever meet Gabriel again, you ask him about the Right of Enosh.”

“The Right of Enosh?”

“The Right of Enosh,” confirmed the Monk, and then his finger tightened and the pistol roared.

The force of the shot sent Zac staggering backwards over the roof edge. Clutching his bleeding stomach, he tried to scream. There was a faintly jarring bump as his body hit the concrete. His physical form stayed behind as a messy splat on the ground, but the rest of him just carried on falling.

The grey mists of the Nether Lands smothered him for a few seconds, then cleared to reveal a dark and barren landscape, spread out like a blanket at the world’s gloomiest picnic. From way up high he was able to pick out some detail of the land below him. There was the River Styx.