The 13th Horseman Part 15

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 cla.s.sroom.

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 h.e.l.lhound.

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

"Getting there," said Drake encouragingly.

Toxie wagged his forked tail and woofed happily. "What the h.e.l.l 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 h.e.l.lhound 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 h.e.l.lhound's throat.

Toxie's momentum carried him forward, regardless. Dr Black turned and bent low as the full weight of the snarling h.e.l.lhound landed on his back. Incredibly, he didn't fall. Even more incredibly, he straightened back up in one jerky movement.

"Bad kitty," he said, then he ran backwards out of the cupboard. Drake and Mel watched him charge across the cla.s.sroom, dodging desks and chairs, the h.e.l.lhound howling with fury on his back.

And then there was a loud KRIK as Dr Black drove the beast against the wall. A spider's web pattern spread up the plaster and Toxie let out a squeal of pain. Dr Black glared into the cupboard and fixed his eyes on Drake. He began to cackle, quietly at first, but quickly becoming louder until the sound of his laughter drowned out Toxie's yelps.

"We should get out of here," Drake muttered.

"You think?" Mel said. She took hold of Drake's hand and he led her out into the cla.s.sroom. "What do we do about him?" she asked, glancing back at the unconscious Mr Franks.

Drake thought for a moment, then firmly pulled the cupboard door closed. "He'll be fine," he said. "Probably."

"Where do you think you are going, Mr Finn?" Dr Black demanded. He made a lunge for them, but Toxie dug his claws into the teacher's shoulders and dropped to the floor. Dr Black was pulled backwards.

"Go, go, go," Drake cried, pus.h.i.+ng Mel towards the cla.s.sroom door. They clattered out into the corridor and slammed the door closed, m.u.f.fling the sounds of the battle raging inside.

"That was... What was...?" Mel stammered. She shook her head and pulled herself together. "What's happening?"

"I'll explain soon, I promise," he said. "But now we have to run."

He caught her hand again and pulled her along the corridor towards the exit. Pupils usually didn't bother going upstairs during breaktimes, so the history corridor was completely deserted. Their footsteps echoed noisily as they made for the corner that led to the stairs.

Drake skidded round the bend, dragging Mel with him. Three figures blocked the top of the stairs. They turned their spotty faces Drake's way as he appeared round the corner.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the k.n.o.b 'ead," Bingo muttered. "Been eating any Frosties lately?"

"Not now, guys, OK?" Drake said. He moved to pa.s.s them, but Dim and Spud blocked his way.

"We've been looking for you," Bingo continued.

"No, you haven't," Drake said. "You walked right past me yesterday."

"Yeah, well now we are looking for you, all right? Did you think we forgot what you done?"

There was a crash from along the corridor behind them. None of the three bullies so much as blinked.

"I'm warning you, get out of my way," Drake said. "We need to get out of here. All of us."

"You ain't going nowhere, k.n.o.b 'ead." Bingo looked Mel up and down. He fixed his eyes on her checked skirt and leered. "And neither's your girlfriend."

Bingo made a grab for Mel, both hands raised, fingers spread wide. Drake let go of her hand long enough to shove the bully in the chest. "Leave her alone," he yelled, in a voice that didn't sound quite like his own.

In his panicked rage, Drake pushed the boy harder than he had intended. He watched helplessly as Bingo stumbled back towards the stairs. The bully's face barely had time to register his surprise before he started to fall.

All four of them looked on, dumbstruck, as Bingo clattered down the hard stone steps. He bounced and rolled down the last few stairs and hit the floor below with a sickening crunch.

In the silence that followed, Drake was deafened by the thunder of his own cras.h.i.+ng heart.

Mel looked down at the motionless boy, lying on his back, his limbs bent at awkward angles. Both shaking hands went to her mouth. "Oh G.o.d," she whispered. "Oh G.o.d."

"What have I done?" Drake whimpered. "He's not moving. What have I done?"

Dim and Spud kept quiet. They followed Drake and Mel as they hurried down the stairs.

"I've... I've killed him," Drake said. "I've actually killed him."

"Maybe not," Mel said. "I mean, maybe not. There's no blood or anything."

"No, but..." Drake remembered the crunching sound Bingo had made on the floor, and the way his head had battered off almost every step.

He stopped, three stairs from the bottom. "Why isn't there blood?"

Mel carried on past him. "He might be OK. Maybe he just needsa""

"Mel, wait!" Drake cried, pulling her back just in time. With a mechanical whirr, Bingo's legs and arms twisted backwards, raising his chest up towards the ceiling. His head spun all the way round until his face was pointed towards the floor. He looked like a dog wearing a human-suit, but the truth was, Drake knew, that he was neither of those things.

"OK," Mel gasped, stepping back. She glanced sideways at Drake. "Explain this one. Now."

"He's a robot," Drake told her.

"A robot?"

"In the cupboard. Dr Black must've done something to the real one and let the robot take his place."

Mel frowned. "But wouldn't that mean...?"

They both turned to look at the other two bullies. Circles of red light flickered on in the dark centres of Dim and Spud's eyes.

Down on the floor, Bingo's mouth pulled into an electric snarl. "Kill them," he commanded. "Kill them both!"

"Move!" Drake yelped. Catching Mel by the arm he jumped the final few steps. Using Bingo's chest as a springboard, they raced along the corridor towards the fire exit.

Dim and Spud bent over and wrapped their hands round their own ankles. The lines of their backs curved to form two almost perfect circles and they rolled, like hula hoops, down the stairs.

Drake pushed down the bar of the fire exit and the door swung wide. A piercing alarm began to scream, drawing the attention of the hundred or so kids dotted around the concrete rectangle before them.

"Get out of the way!" Drake bellowed, as he and Mel spilled out of the school. "Move, it's not safe, it's nota""

A cras.h.i.+ng sound drowned him out. The spinning circles that were Spud and Dim punched through the walls on either side of the door, spraying chunks of stone and slivers of gla.s.s. The school grounds were filled with the sound of screaming as Spud and Dim pursued Drake and Mel across the concrete.

Drake sprinted on, pus.h.i.+ng his way through the panicked ma.s.ses, pulling Mel behind him. The robots were too fast. There was no way he could outrun them. He had to dodge round the crowds, but Dim and Spud ploughed through them, scattering schoolkids like skittles.

Frantically, Drake shoved two fingers in his mouth and blew. Air hissed out like a slow puncture. The spinning hoops were almost upon them now. "Come on," Drake pleaded. "Just whistle!"

He blew again. There was no sound, but suddenly a horse was there, rearing up in front of them, sending the school yard into even greater chaos.

Fluid dripped from the white horse's mouth, and from its eyes, and from the weeping sores that covered its flanks. Pestilence slid down from the saddle, and pulled Drake and Mel in behind him. Then he faced the rapidly approaching bullies, and did the last thing Drake would have expected.

He took off his rubber gloves.

The two bullies spun to a stop and straightened up in front of him. Pest held his hands up, palms facing them.

"Tell me, gents, do you know what *Guinea Worm Disease' is?" he asked.

Dim and Spud didn't reply.

"It's a rather unfortunate medical condition that results in a metre-long worm growing inside your stomach, then chewing its way out through the nearest available exit. It's not contagious." Pestilence looked at both of his hands in turn. "Usually."

Drake tapped him on the shoulder. "Uh, Pest..."

"One second, Drake," Pestilence said. "I was just about to share something with your friends here."

"But, Pest, you don'ta""

"Leave this to me, Drake. I do know what I'm doing."

He pressed his hands against the bullies' foreheads. A sickly green glow spread out from his palm and fingertips. Dim and Spud stared at him, their faces impa.s.sive. Pestilence's delicate features creased into a frown.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Drake said. "Techno-magic mumbo jumbo. They're robots."

Pestilence's face went several shades paler. "Robots? Ah, so is that how they did the spinny thing? I did wonder." He withdrew his hands. "Wasting my time with that, then," he said. He smiled nervously. "We should probably go."

"One step ahead of you, Uncle Bob," Mel said. She was sitting on the horse, towards the back of the saddle. Pest leaped up in front of her, and they both pulled Drake up between them.

"Hold on," Pest warned. Drake felt Mel's hands on his waist. They gripped him tightly as she pulled herself close against his back.

Pestilence flicked the reins, and the world around them became a streak of speed.

"Hey, Chief," Mel said into Drake's ear.

"Yeah?"

She tightened her grip round his waist. "Your family is frickin' nuts."

THE HORSE RACED through a row of back gardens, leaping the hedges and fences between them with practised ease. Despite the animal's performance, though, Mel was concerned.

"I think your horse needs a vet," she said, as they all ducked under a was.h.i.+ng line. "He's bleeding out of, well, everywhere."

"Yeah, he does that," Drake told her. "He's fine, though."

"Fit as a fiddle," Pestilence chimed.

"My, uh, predecessor," Drake said, keeping his voice low. "I found out who he is. His name's Dr Black, he's a teacher at my school."

"Really? Interesting. But not our biggest worry at the minute."

"What? Why? What's happening?" Drake asked.

They'd left the robo-bullies back near the school. Dim and Spud had spun after them for a few hundred metres, but the horse had easily outpaced them. Even so, Drake shuddered to think what they and Dr Black might be up to now.

"We're taking Mel home," Pest said. He leaned round in the saddle. "I like what you've done with your hair, by the way."

"Thanks," Mel said. "But I don't want to go home. I want someone to tell me what's going on."

"The end of the world," said Pest. He turned and met Drake's eye. "We've had the call."

"What call?" asked Mel.

"The call?" Drake gasped.

"What call? Will someone please tell me what's happening?"

The horse stopped, suddenly and without warning. Drake looked along a gravel driveway at a large house with two cars parked out front.

He swung down, just a little awkwardly. Mel dismounted beside him. She stared at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Look, the thing is," Drake said. "I'm not really entirely sure what's going on myself, so I don't know how to explain any of it."

"Try."

Drake's mouth moved, as if testing out the words before he said them. "The Hors.e.m.e.n of the Apocalypse live in my garden," he said. "No, wait, that makes me sound mental."

"It does a bit," Mel agreed.

Drake tried to think of another way of phrasing it. "No," he realised, "that's pretty much it. The Hors.e.m.e.n of the Apocalypse live in my garden. Or three of them do, anyway. Dr Black used to be the fourth. He was Death, but he got bored of waiting for the Apocalypse, so he left to destroy the world on his own. And so I'm the new one."

"You're the new Death?" Mel said.

Drake smiled faintly. "Pretty hard to believe, right?"

"So, who's he?" she asked, jabbing a thumb at the man on horseback beside them.