The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,80

to size, but now it had come they weren’t quite sure how they felt about it.

Zac didn’t hesitate. He cut through them, all fists and feet and elbows and knees. Herya mopped up what was left, and in moments the three of them were surrounded by little mounds of unconscious monsters.

Angelo gave a low whistle, then smiled. “Crumbs. That was exciting, wasn’t it?”

Zac looked the skinny boy up and down. “What I want to know,” he said, “is how have you still managed to keep those trousers on?”

Herya was staring down at the senseless demons. She drew in a deep breath. “A fight. My gods. I was in a real fight.”

Zac laid a hand on her shoulder. “You OK?”

“Are you kidding? That was brilliant!” she giggled. “Let’s find more of them and do it again.”

“Let’s not,” suggested Zac.

“Cretins,” crackled the voice of the Dark Lord. “Stop them! Stop them now! Do not let them get to the main door. Do not let them escape!”

“Main door’s this way,” said Zac, leading them towards the exit he knew led to the reception area. He yanked it open and they tumbled inside. “Now, out here and we’re home and dry.”

A small figure in a large suit sat on the other side of the reception desk, his hands behind his head, his feet resting on the table. He gave a vague wave of his hand and the double doors that led out of Hell melted away and were replaced with solid rock.

“Surprise,” said Satan. There was a sound like inrushing air, and Haures appeared in the doorway behind them. The Dark Lord leaned in towards the intercom again. “Oh, don’t let them get to the main doors,” he said in a falsetto voice. “Whatever will we do if they reach the main doors?”

Zac heard Angelo gasp. “This was a trap,” the half-angel whispered.

“You think?”

“Who are you?” demanded Herya, eyeballing the Dark Lord.

Zac did the introductions. “Herya, Satan. Satan, Herya.”

Herya dialled the eyeballing back a few notches. “Oh,” she said, then said nothing more.

“And the gentleman behind you is Haures,” Satan said. “He’s one of the Dukes of—”

“Hazzard,” said Zac and Angelo together, then they exchanged a quick high five.

The Dark Lord swung his feet down and emerged from behind the desk. “Very amusing,” he said. He regarded Zac. “So you came back for your colleague.”

“No,” said Zac. “I came back for my friend.”

“Ker-ching!” cheered Angelo. “Back of the net!” He tried to hug Zac, but was nudged away.

“Not now,” Zac told him.

Grinning broadly, Angelo began body-popping. “He likes me. He likes me. He really, really likes me,” he sang in a robotic voice.

The demons watched him in bemused silence. After several seconds, Angelo stopped dancing. He coughed quietly. “Carry on.”

Satan hesitated. “Right...” he said a little uncertainly. “Angelo will be taken back down and restored to his true form, while you two are given to some of my more... creative staff to have fun with.” He smiled thinly. “Fun for them, you understand? Not for you.”

The Dark Lord returned to the Tannoy and began calling for reinforcements. Zac, Angelo and Herya stood back to back, allowing them to keep an eye on both demons at once.

“What do we do?” whispered the Valkyrie.

Zac’s mind raced. “I... I don’t know.”

“Why did I come back for you?” Herya groaned. “I could’ve been in Vegas by now.”

“Shut up and let me think.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Angelo said, “but you won’t like it.”

“Right now, I’m prepared to try almost anything,” Zac replied. Satan looked up from the Tannoy microphone, a vague expression of amusement on his face. From out in the corridor, Zac could hear the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. “What’s the idea?”

Angelo took a deep breath. “We pray.”

“Pray? That’s your idea? We pray?”

“Have you got a better one?”

“I told you, I’m not praying,” Zac said.

Satan took a step closer. “What are you whispering about, little ones?” he asked them, and his forked tongue flicked across his lips.

“Come on, what harm can it do?” Angelo asked.

“Whatever you’re planning, just do it,” Herya urged. She had her fists raised, but it was clear from the way her shoulders sagged that she didn’t fancy their chances.

“You said you’d try anything,” Angelo reminded him.

“I said almost anything.”

“Just do something!” Herya yelped.

“Oh, all right,” Zac snapped. He pressed his hands together. “Dear God, please save us,” he said. He turned to Angelo. “Happy now?”

“You didn’t say Amen.”

Zac sighed. “Oh, well I’m sorry,” he said. “Amen.”

And as the word left his lips, the