The 13th Horseman - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,46

by the unexpected wrestling move, although that was surprising enough in itself. He was more surprised by the fact that it didn’t really hurt.

It also didn’t hurt when the tip of Dr Black’s shoe was driven into his ribs, although he definitely felt it. Drake rolled clumsily in the narrow cupboard and scrambled to get back to his feet.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Mel yelled. She moved to lash out at the teacher, but Drake’s arm came up to block her way.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Stay away from him. He’ll kill you. He’s crazy.”

Two pinpricks of red lit up in the teacher’s eyes. “You say the sweetest things.”

“What’s going on?” Mel asked, backing away.

“Tell her, Mr Finn,” Dr Black oozed. “Tell her everything. Tell her what you really are.”

“What’s he talking about?” The usual light-hearted tone was gone from Mel’s voice now. She was serious. And she was scared. “What have you got me mixed up in?”

“I’ll explain later,” said Drake. “I promise.”

“You know, Mr Finn,” Dr Black began. He raised his bony hands in a choking motion. “You really shouldn’t make promises that you cannot keep.”

THUDOOM!

The door at Dr Black’s back flew open with such force that it cracked the solid stone wall where it hit. The teacher spun one-eighty on his toes, his hands now clenched into fists.

At first, he saw no one, but a movement down by the floor soon caught his attention. He looked down to see a flea-ridden creature glaring back up at him. The hair on the cat’s back stood up as it bared its rotten teeth, extended its filthy claws and said, “Woof”.

ASHORT DISTANCE away, in a dark wooden shed in an overgrown back garden, a telephone rang. It was the first time, since time itself had begun, that this particular telephone had made a sound.

The three men sitting at the table tensed. War straightened his shoulders, adjusted his sword, then smoothed down his beard. Only then did he reach for the receiver and listen to the clipped tones of the person on the other end of the line.

“Yes, sir,” he said eventually. “I understand, sir.”

With a click, War hung up the phone. He undid the laces of his boots, then tied them again, tighter this time. Only then did he look at the other men.

“Right, then,” he said, with an uncharacteristic tremor in his voice. “That’s us.”

Drake looked down at the barking cat and couldn’t contain his delight. “Toxie!”

“Hey! It’s that ca—” said Mel, before Drake’s hand clamped over her mouth.

“Don’t say it,” he warned.

Dr Black’s lips drew up into a mirthless grin. “Nice kitty,” he said, then he toe-punted the mangy animal across the room. It clattered hard against the bottom of a bookcase. The shelves wobbled back and forth, back and forth, and then they toppled forward, showering Toxie in hardback history books, before crunching down on top of him.

The teacher returned his attention to his captive audience. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

There was a sudden boom and the bookcase exploded. A shape, like a small cat becoming a big something else, glowed white hot in the corner of the classroom.

The three still-conscious occupants of the cupboard watched as Toxie’s back tore open, and a row of spiky plates grew from his spine. His stubby bones snapped and splintered, then joined together again in new shapes and new sizes. A hide of molten granite burned through the tattered remains of his fur, as the slender muscles across his shoulders bulged. In just a few seconds, Toxie’s body had become that of a terrifying Hellhound.

His head, though, was still very much a cat.

“Getting there,” said Drake encouragingly.

Toxie wagged his forked tail and woofed happily. “What the Hell is going on?” Mel asked, catching Drake by the sleeve and not letting go.

“I’ll explain that later too. But for now, you might want to step back.”

He put himself in front of Mel just as Toxie’s powerful back legs twitched. The Hellhound bounded on to Dr Black’s desk, his paws leaving scorch-marks on the wood. Dr Black’s twisted grin didn’t falter.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he growled, beckoning the monster over. Toxie’s tiny jaws opened wide as he hurled himself at the history teacher. Dr Black twisted to the side, raised his arm in front of his chest, then drove his elbow into the Hellhound’s throat.

Toxie’s momentum carried him forward, regardless. Dr Black turned and bent low as the full weight of the snarling Hellhound landed on his back. Incredibly, he didn’t fall. Even more incredibly,