The Book of Doom - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,82
“What are you doing?” he whispered. “You’re going to get into trouble!”
Zac pointed at Gabriel. “You tried to make him an angel.” He pointed at Satan. “You tried to make him a demon. But he doesn’t belong in Heaven, and he doesn’t belong in Hell. He belongs here.”
Gabriel laughed falsely. “Here? Among humans? Don’t be ludicrous.”
“He’s halfway between angel and demon. Halfway between good and evil. That sounds pretty much human to me.”
Satan gave a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Gabe,” he smirked.
“Oh, I think not,” Gabriel sighed. He gestured to Michael. “Seize the boy.”
Zac stood his ground. “You’ll have to get through me.”
“And me,” added Herya. “Although I don’t actually have any idea what’s going on here,” she admitted. “But I really enjoyed punching people in the face earlier, and I’d like to do it again.”
“Twice the fun,” said Michael, drawing his sword. His eyes shone as he lunged with the blade straight towards Zac’s chest.
“Don’t you dare hurt my grandson!” Phillip cried in that voice that boomed from everywhere. Michael’s attack faltered.
The angel stared down at the object he was holding in his hand. It had been a sword. He was absolutely certain that it had been a sword.
“Michael,” began Gabriel quietly, “why are you brandishing an ice-cream cone?”
“It’s... it’s a sword,” Michael insisted, refusing to believe what the mounting evidence was telling him. “It’s a big sword with fire on it.”
“It’s a mint-choc-chip ice cream,” said Zac. “And I’d really advise against letting it drip on my granddad’s carpet.”
Michael stepped back. He looked around for somewhere to put the cone. Finding nowhere, he licked it instead, and discovered that he really quite enjoyed mint choc chip.
Gabriel shot Zac a questioning look. “How did you do that?” he asked.
“Trade secret,” Zac lied. “Just a little trick I picked up on my travels.”
The archangel looked at the ice-cream cone, then he looked down at Phillip, still sitting in his armchair. It was a long time before he met Zac’s gaze again. “I see,” he said almost inaudibly. “Very interesting.”
“Angelo stays here,” said Zac. “He stays here and you leave him alone.” He looked over at Satan. “Everyone leaves him alone.”
Gabriel and the Dark Lord exchanged a glance. “Very well,” said Gabriel. “You win. The boy will stay here.”
Angelo leaped out from behind Zac and began body-popping once again. “Oooh yeah, I’m staying, I’m staying, I’m staying here. I’m staying, I’m—”
“You, of course,” continued Gabriel, directing his smile firmly in Zac’s direction, “shall return with Satan to Hell, whereupon your punishment shall commence immediately, and continue for all eternity. I trust the Dark Lord will take a special interest in your case.”
Satan shot Phillip a quick glance, but the old man didn’t appear to be paying much attention. The Father of All Lies’ forked tongue flicked hungrily across his teeth. “Oh, you betcha,” he said, but he kept his voice low so Phillip wouldn’t hear.
Angelo stopped dancing. “Wait... what?”
“You can’t do that,” gasped Herya.
Zac turned and looked at his granddad, but that shadowy confusion was back behind Phillip’s eyes. Whatever had awoken within him had now gone back to sleep.
“They can,” Zac said. “I died. That’s how I got back into Hell in the first place.”
Tears sprang into Angelo’s eyes. “No, but... but...”
“It’s OK, Angelo,” Zac told him. “I knew this would happen.”
“Wait... what’s happening now?” asked Phillip.
Zac knelt beside him. “I’m going away again, Granddad.”
“What, again?” said the old man. “Make up your mind, will you?”
Zac smiled and patted Phillip’s hand. “Angelo’s going to stay here. He’ll look after you. Look after him too, will you?”
He stood up and turned to face the rest of the room. “Right, then,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“It’s not fair,” sobbed Angelo, throwing his arms round Zac and holding on tight. “There has to be something we can do. There has to be.”
“Well, there isn’t,” said Gabriel quickly. “Satan will take you to the underworld. Off you pop.”
“No!” Angelo wailed.
“It’s tragic, I know,” Gabriel agreed, “but there’s nothing that can be done. Our hands are tied.”
“Fair enough,” said Zac. He held out his wrists, ready to be led away. Just as Satan reached for them, though, he pulled back. “Unless...” Zac said, watching Gabriel closely, “What’s the Right of Enosh”
Gabriel’s left eye twitched. Michael paused, mid lick, then lowered the ice-cream cone from his mouth.
“Never heard of it,” said Gabriel. “Now if there are no further delays...”
“Wait!” Angelo cried. “The Right of Enosh! I’ve read about that. The Right of