“But he will open it if we force his hand by directly attacking him or Zachary,” Zhang says. “That is why we cannot target Battersea Power Station.”
“Zachary and Mr. Dowling are thick as thieves,” Dr. Oystein says, “so we have had to deal with my ex-assistant very carefully since he betrayed us. If we struck at his base, Mr. Dowling might retaliate by opening his vial of Schlesinger-10.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” I mutter. “Even if you didn’t release your virus, zombies can’t reproduce. They’d all die off within a couple of thousand years. He’d be the king of a doomed kingdom.”
“You are forgetting about the babies,” Dr. Oystein murmurs, and I feel a chill race up and down my spine. “The babies in your dreams, and the one you saw in real life. We think they have been developed to provide Mr. Dowling with fresh subjects in the centuries to come. They are mutant clones and, if we are right, Mr. Dowling is setting them up to become the populace of the future.
“The only thing stopping Mr. Dowling from wiping out mankind is that he knows I would retaliate with Clements-13, which I perfected a few years after Zachary betrayed me. As things stand, we are deadlocked. If one of us releases his virus, the other will retaliate by releasing theirs, and that will mean the end for us all. Neither of us wishes to see that happen, but if we stood poised to kill Zachary or Mr. Dowling, he would almost certainly unleash the hellish harpies of Schlesinger-10 that are his to command, so that our victory would be a short-lived affair.
“We cannot risk it, B,” he finishes softly. “That is why, if their captors refuse to release the prisoners, we can do no more than swap Dan-Dan for your friend. The others–not just those from New Kirkham, but the hundreds or thousands who have been taken from other towns–are beyond our help. Our hands are tied. I wish with all my heart that it was not so, but…”
The doc shrugs miserably, a simple gesture of defeat and dismay, and I know in that moment that unless I can convince Owl Man to set the others free–and the more I think about it, the less chance there seems to be that he will–then all of those poor souls are damned.
FIFTEEN
We’re a glum lot when the doc finishes. Nobody says anything for ages. Rage is the only one who doesn’t look desolate. He’s smiling away to himself, as if this is all one big joke.
“Does this mean our hands will always be tied?” Carl finally asks. “I thought we were going to tackle Mr. Dowling one day. Are you saying we can never do that?”
Dr. Oystein sighs. “Never is a very long time. I do not know where Mr. Dowling stores his vial of Schlesinger-10. Perhaps he carries it around with him, or maybe he keeps it somewhere safe. If we find out, we can devise a plan of action and either launch a raid or set out to incapacitate Mr. Dowling. Or maybe one of his mutants or Zachary will turn on him and kill him for us.”
“In that case, wouldn’t his killer take the vial if Mr. Dowling keeps it with him?” I ask.
“Or, if it is held elsewhere, would Mr. Dowling not have instructed some of his people to retrieve the virus if he is killed?” Ashtat chips in.
Dr. Oystein grimaces. “All those outcomes and many more are possible. That is why we must bide our time and hope for the best.” He rises and groans, rubbing his most recent wound, where he was shot by my ex-teacher Billy Burke. “I know this is unsettling news. That is why I hold certain information back, so as not to disturb the rest of you. But, when times call for it, I must reluctantly share the burden. My apologies for troubling you with this.”
“It’s not your fault, doc,” Carl says. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
The doc smiles gratefully at Carl, then strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Now we must deal with the more pressing matter of what to do with Lord Wood. Are you sure you want to return him, B? You know how cruel he is. Do you really wish to set him free to torment and kill again?”
“No,” I mutter. “But Vinyl’s my mate, and there’s still a chance that Owl Man might arrange the release of the others too. I can’t just abandon them. Of course, if you insist on keeping Dan-Dan…”
“I am sorry,” he says. “I will not force you to obey me. I was not the one who risked all in pursuit of the trucks or who took Daniel captive. He is your prisoner, not mine. You have earned the right to do with him as you see fit.”
“Actually, I was the one who captured him,” Rage sniffs. “But I’m happy to leave this to Becky. I don’t care what happens to the sadistic sod.”
I wrestle with the dilemma for a minute, then my shoulders slump. “Even if I can’t get the rest of them released, I’ve got to do it for Vinyl. If we hand Dan-Dan back to them, we can target him another time, hopefully before he can do any more harm. But if we execute him now, Owl Man will definitely kill Vinyl. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”
“I understand,” Dr. Oystein says, offering me a comforting smile. “Then we will return Daniel this afternoon. I know we have until tomorrow, but I would rather not leave it until the last moment. Now, who will I send to escort him?” He looks around.
“I’ll go,” I volunteer. “I kind of have to, don’t I?”
To my surprise, Dr. Oystein responds with a firm “No. You are the one person we cannot send.”
“What are you talking about?” I snap.
“Owl Man, you idiot,” Rage growls. “He can control you, so he could turn you against the rest of us.”
“He didn’t before,” I pout.
“Because I had Dan-Dan in my grip,” Rage reminds me. “He couldn’t turn you on me because Dan-Dan might have been nicked by one of us.”
“I dunno,” I mumble. “He never worked that trick on me any of the other times we’ve met. It was only when I pointed the gun at his dog.”
“Even so,” Dr. Oystein says, “we cannot risk it. You must stay with us. We will all be safer that way.”
He studies his Angels again. “Rage?”
Rage looks uncertain for a second. A worried look crosses his face. He starts to say something. Then he changes his mind and grins. “Count me in, doc. I was the one who hooked the slimy fish, so I guess it’s only fitting that I take him the rest of the way.”
“And…” Dr. Oystein’s gaze settles on Pearse and Conall, but then he notices Pearse’s missing fingers. “You are injured.”
“It’s nothing major,” Pearse says, although I can tell by his wince that the pain is greater than he’s admitting.
“You need to spend some time in a Groove Tube,” the doc says.
“Maybe later. Not now. I’m good to go if you want me.”
“Are you sure?” Dr. Oystein presses.
Pearse nods. “I won’t let you down.”
Dr. Oystein hesitates. He stares again at the other Angels. Then he nods. “Very well. I had another assignment in mind for the pair of you, but I suppose you can deal with it once you have delivered your package. Go see Ciara. Eat heartily. Then have Zhang examine your wound, to be sure it is not more serious than you think. After that, come to me in my laboratory.
“Rage, will you accompany me now? We can discuss the best way to handle the swap, to ensure you cannot be double-crossed. Zachary is usually trustworthy in situations like this, but it pays to be cautious.”
“No probs, doc,” Rage says. “I believe in covering all angles.”
“The rest of you can return to your room and rest,” Dr. Oystein says. “You have done well and I am proud of you.”
As the others are filing out, Dr. Oystein calls me back. He clasps my arms and stares into my eyes. “I know this has not been an easy decision. But you have made it and you must live with it. Do not be harsh on yourself. As you noted, we will hopefully get another chance to bring Lord Wood to justice later.”
I nod glumly, then look questioningly at the ancient scientist. “Am I doing the right thing? Should I have sacrificed Vinyl for the greater good?”
The doc cocks his head. “There is no sure answer to that. In your position I would not have let Daniel leave, eve
n if the other prisoners were a confirmed part of the equation. More lives will be lost once we return him. But, as I said earlier, sacrifices are inevitable in this ghastly, grisly war. We cannot save everyone, so we are forced to choose who to spare and who to let perish.
“I deliberately vaccinated hundreds of thousands of children, aware that the vast majority would die horribly, in order to produce a team of Angels. I cannot provide you with a moral compass,” he says hollowly, “because I lost my own many decades ago. We do what we think is right. After that, we can only pray that we choose the correct path, and hope our maker will forgive us if we err.
“If it is any consolation,” he adds in a whisper, “I have done far worse than you ever will.” Then he squeezes my shoulders–the only comfort he can offer–and leaves me to brood over whether or not a damned wretch like me has the right to bother the Almighty with her prayers.
SIXTEEN
In the end I don’t pray, but I do a hell of a lot of brooding. At first I wander the corridors of County Hall, trying to get my head straight, to reassure myself that I’m making the right choice. But I keep bumping into Angels who want to know how our mission went. The distractions annoy me.
There are loads of places in County Hall where I could go to get away from everyone, but for some reason I’m drawn to one in particular. I have to ask a couple of Angels to find out where he is, and then it takes me a while to locate it, but eventually I’m sitting in a small room with no windows, a bed, a tray of dried-out scraps of brain and my old teacher, Billy Burke.
Mr. Dowling got his hands on Burke and messed with his mind. The clown sent him to kill Dr. Oystein. To protect the doc, I had to disarm my ex-teacher. I wounded him during the process and he was infected. Chalk up another one for team zombie.
Burke asked to be vaccinated when he was human. Very few adults respond to the vaccination, but he liked to think there would be some sliver of hope that he could be restored if he was turned. I wanted to kill him when he became a zombie–I hate the thought of him shuffling around in this drooling state–but felt I owed him the chance that he’d requested. So we kept him alive and imprisoned him, so that he wouldn’t run after Ciara or Reilly or any of the other humans who occasionally stay with us.
Burke doesn’t recognize me when I unlock the door and slip into his cell. He must have fed recently, because he’s smiling softly, standing by the bed, rubbing his stomach. He barely even zones in long enough to check that I’m not a member of the living. Then his gaze goes distant again.
The bed sheets are ruffled, but I doubt he lies down too often. Zombies have to shelter from the sun every day, but usually they squat or lean against a wall when they’re at rest. Some lie down out of dimly remembered habit, but most have forgotten that beds are for relaxing. I wouldn’t have bothered putting one in the cell, but Dr. Oystein likes to treat everyone with dignity.
“I bet neither of us thought it would end like this back when we were teacher and student,” I murmur, staring sadly at the blank-faced empty vessel of a man. “What a mess.”
I think again about what Dr. Oystein told us. As if Mr. Dowling, mutants and zombies weren’t enough, now we’ve got to add Schlesinger-10 to our list of obstacles to overcome. And maybe there are even grimmer secrets that the doc hasn’t told us about yet. I can appreciate that he wants to break the bad news to us gradually, but I’d rather have it all out in the open. I don’t think anything is scarier than the threats you aren’t aware of.
“I wish I could discuss this with you,” I tell the disinterested zombie. “You were always straight up with me. You helped me see things clearly when I wasn’t sure of them myself.”
I frown and think back to some of our conversations. Burke warned me not to follow my racist, bullying dad’s example, not to let my angry father do as he liked without challenging him. In class he would encourage us to listen to ourselves before anyone else, not to automatically trust politicians, teachers or our parents. If we saw an injustice, we should act on it, regardless of what anyone else told us.
“You wouldn’t have let Dan-Dan go,” I mutter. “But I can’t believe you’d have given up on Vinyl and the rest of the prisoners either. Is there something else I can offer Owl Man? Maybe trade myself for them?”
Owl Man is interested in me for some dark, twisted reason, but he was prepared to let Dan-Dan kill me in order to keep the powerful Child Catcher on his side. I can’t see why he would have changed his mind about that overnight. Dan-Dan seems to be more valuable to him than I am.
Offer him Dr. Oystein’s head on a plate? I dismiss the idea before it fully forms. I’m sure Owl Man would jump at that, but I wouldn’t give up the doc for anything.
No matter what way I look at it, I can’t see an alternative. So I come at the problem from a different angle. Is there a way to make the swap and then kill Dan-Dan?
My eyes narrow. I’m not sure how they’ll arrange the trade. That’s what Dr. Oystein is discussing with Rage. But I’m guessing they’ll have to do it in a way that guarantees the safety of both Vinyl–and the others if they can persuade Owl Man to add them to the deal–and Dan-Dan. In movies, where spies are swapped, they’re sometimes released to walk past one another, with snipers on both sides keeping the pair in sight the whole way—if one of them is harmed, the others can retaliate instantly.
That won’t work in this case, since only Dan-Dan’s mob will have guns. Maybe one of the Angels will advance with Dan-Dan, finger to his throat, acting as a virtual rifle. It would be risky. I can’t see why they’d let the revitalized walk away once he releases Dan-Dan—they could simply shoot him. Maybe have someone else return with the Angel, someone valuable to them, just not as valuable as Dan-Dan, for that person to be released once the Angel’s in the clear?
Whatever way they go about it, I definitely think an Angel will have to stick by Dan-Dan’s side until the swap has been completed. If it was me, I could wait until Vinyl was safe, then slit Dan-Dan’s throat. It would mean my execution, but at least I’d have rescued my friend and put an end to Dan-Dan’s butchering ways.
How would Owl Man react? He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d surely know it was a personal decision, nothing to do with Dr. Oystein. He wouldn’t strike back if I’d been killed in return. An eye for an eye, a zombie for a child-killer. Hell, if Owl Man was close, overseeing the swap, maybe I could throw myself at him, twist that long neck of his before his aides could stop me, kill two birds with one undead stone. That would be a good day’s work!
I chuckle at the thought of taking both of the monsters down. Then I consider the plan seriously. It’s unlikely that I’d be able to get to Owl Man. And it’s possible he’d use his hold over me to stop me from killing Dan-Dan. But if he didn’t think there was a threat… if he wasn’t expecting me to sacrifice myself…
I’m sure Dr. Oystein wouldn’t approve. The world’s full of vicious killers. We’ll never be able to get rid of them all. The subtraction of a single piece of scum won’t make much of a difference one way or the other. Revitalizeds on the other hand are a very limited commodity. In his eyes I’m far more important than a creep like Daniel Wood. He wouldn’t see the child-killer as being worth the price of one of his Angels.
But I haven’t had a high opinion of myself since I came back to life. Dr. Oystein sees more in me than I ever will. And I’m the one who would have to live with the guilt every time Dan-Dan killed. Every life he claimed would be traceable back to my decision to set him free. Dr. Oystein can cope with that sort of burden. I can’t.
“He’s going to be mad at me,” I tell Mr. Burke. “He might not understand why I did it. But you would have. You might have tried to talk me out of it. Maybe you’d have found a way of making things even out. But, with no better plan on the table, and the choice a simple one between letting Dan-Dan carry on killing or putting a stop to his wicked ways…
“You always told us to listen to our hearts, and mine is telling me to ignore the doc, take matters into my
own hands and end this today. Well, I don’t have an actual heart, but you know what I mean, don’t you?”
The zombie doesn’t respond, but I pretend that Billy Burke has given me the thumbs-up. “Thanks, boss,” I grin as I let myself out. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
And that marks the end of B Smith toeing the party line. I’m back to going it alone, trusting my instincts, dealing with the world in my own crude fashion. It’s probably not the wisest move I’ve ever made. And it will almost certainly be my last. But you know what? I don’t care. Because at least I’m taking my destiny in my hands and deciding my future. Besides, if this is such a wrong move, why do I feel so damned good about it?
Watch out, Dan-Dan, here I come!
SEVENTEEN
I’d like to go to my room, change out of my filthy clothes, bid farewell to Ashtat and the others—they’ve been good friends and I hate the thought of just cutting out on them. But they’d ask questions. They’d want to know where I was going. If they guessed what I was planning, they might rat me out to Dr. Oystein, not to spite me, but because they wouldn’t want to see me throw away my future like this. They’re a solid crew. I’ll miss them.
I have my wide-brimmed hat and a replacement pair of prescription sunglasses for those I lost in New Kirkham and, although my clothes are on the tattered side, they’ll protect me from the sun. A quick visit to the kitchen where Ciara stores the brains, a munch to ensure I’m at my physical peak, then I’m good to go.
I slip out of County Hall and head west along the Albert Embankment. It’s quiet, not a single zombie on the prowl. The Thames is calm, no bodies floating past today. A lone pigeon flaps by overhead. A rare survivor. It must be one of the more cunning of its kind. Most have had their heads ripped off by zombies.
I consider where to plant myself. I have to hook up with Rage and his team before they get to the power station. I don’t dare do it too close to Battersea, as I’m sure the others will argue with me and it’s best not to have a shouting match in front of a load of gun-toting Klanners. But equally I don’t want to give Rage too much time to think about it. His first reaction will be to turn back and report me to the doc. He’ll be less likely to do that if he has to make a trek.