The 13th Horseman - Part 18
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Part 18

Famine's face became deathly serious. "I'm in. What's the plan?"

"Dr Black's probably still at the school," Drake said. "If we can find out what he did maybe we can figure out how to reverse it."

"Right then, gents," War intoned. "Time to summon our rides. Stick to the ground, though. No going airborne."

"We'd get there quicker if we did," Famine said.

"Aye, but we don't want to kick Armageddon into top gear accidentally by riding across the sky, do we?" War said. "We stick to the ground."

"Good call," said Pest, stepping forward. He thrust a gloved hand into the inside pocket of his suit. "But before we go anywhere..." He pulled out four matching badges. "If we're going to do this, let's do it properly."

Drake took the one with *I AM 4' printed on it and balanced it in his palm. It was heavier than it looked, about the weight of a pound coin. He opened the fastener and tried to attach the badge to his robe, but the pin would not go through the thick material.

He tried to force the pin through, but the material refused to give. "What's this made of?" he asked, pushing the pin so hard it bent double.

"Solidified darkness," War said.

"Oh, right," Drake said, who by this point had stopped being surprised by anything the hors.e.m.e.n told him. He looked up and saw that they were wearing their badges. Even War had found somewhere on his armour to attach the thing. Pest stared at him expectantly.

"Um, the robe bent it," he explained. "I'll stick it in the pocket."

Pestilence gave a sigh. "I don't know. You try to do something nice..."

"Right," said War, interrupting him, "let's do this."

Pheeeeeep!

Pest's whistle was short and shrill. Even before the sound had faded, a sonic boom raced around the garden.

"*And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder'," quoted War, as the white horse tore through a hole in s.p.a.ce and landed with a thudding of hooves on the gra.s.s.

War himself whistled next, and there came his red horse, leaping from nowhere, its mane spluttering like fire as it clip-clopped to a stop beside them.

Famine stuck two fingers in his mouth. The sound came out accompanied by a spray of saliva, but it was still unmistakeably a whistle.

No horse appeared. Drake stood, watching on expectantly, waiting for the thunder of hooves. He was just about to suggest that Famine try again, when he did hear something. It was a low whine, not unlike the sound of the air conditioning in Dr Black's cupboard, and back in the cave.

A ripple appeared in the air half a dozen or so metres ahead of them. A black shape lurched through, trundling along on its four hard-rubber wheels. The electric engine rose in pitch as the vehicle pa.s.sed them, before returning to a low hum when it stopped by the horses.

"Mobility scooter," Famine explained. He smiled shyly. "Like I said, haven't ridden in a while."

"Your turn," War said, turning to Drake.

Drake shook his head. "I... I don't think I can."

"You can do it," Pest said encouragingly. "We believe in you!"

Drake glanced between them all, then gave a single determined nod. "I can do this," he said. He curled his thumb and index finger, stuck them in his mouth and blew.

Pffffff.

He blew again, harder this time.

Pffffffllllffff.

"Oh, forget it," said War. He was already on his horse. In one moved he hoisted Drake off his feet and deposited him on the saddle behind him. "Seriously," he told him. "Worst Death ever."

"Don't you listen to him," said Pest, settling himself into his saddle. "Oh, so you can't whistle. So what?" He smiled and winked. "It's hardly the end of the world."

The horses clattered towards the school gates, scattering the crowds that had gathered there. Hundreds of children in matching school uniform lined the fence, held back by men and women in an altogether different type of uniform.

Yellow *Do Not Cross' tape had been draped across the gate. Beyond it, more uniformed officers stood, their eyes trained on a window mid-way along the first floor.

"Police," Drake said. "How are we going to get past them?"

War flicked the reins and his horse sped up. A clattering at their back told them that Pest too had picked up the pace. Several hundred metres behind them, Famine twisted the throttle of his mobility scooter, but it was already going at top speed and had nothing more to give.

With a "Yah!" from War, the horse leaped over the metal fence. Drake heard the gasp from the people below as the animal sailed over their heads. Sparks sprayed into the air as its hooves skidded down on to the school grounds.

Another gasp; another spark shower, and Pestilence's horse touched down beside them. The police were racing over as the three hors.e.m.e.n dismounted.

"Oi, who the h.e.l.l are you? What do you think you're doing?"

War didn't bother to look at them. "Pest," he said, waving a hand vaguely.

Pestilence gave a gentle cough, then opened his mouth wide. There was a sound like rushing air and a faint green haze wafted from within his throat. The first row of police officers toppled backwards as the cloud hit them. The next row froze in confusion, and then they too were falling.

The rest of the police pushed back, even as the crowd began to panic. Their reaction had come too late, though. The green mist rolled across them, filling their airways even as they started to scream.

Like dominoes they fell, those closest to the school first, then the row behind, then the row behind that one. It took just seconds until the only movement beyond the school gates was the steady flashing of the police car lights.

"Did... did you kill them?" Drake asked.

"What do you take me for?" said Pest, slapping him on the upper arm. "Temporary narcolepsy. They're all just having a bit of a nap. Be right as rain in twenty minutes."

"Then we'd better move fast," War said. He pointed up to the window the police had been so fixated on. "Is that the cla.s.sroom?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so," Drake said. "Looks about right. Should we wait for Famine?"

"He'll only slow us down," said War. He was already unsheathing his immense sword as he strode towards the door. "It's up to the three of us. Let's go and get this over with."

THE WOODEN DOUBLE-DOORS at the front entrance to the school were closed over when they approached. Drake turned the metal ring handles and the doors swung outwards, revealing a solid metal barrier behind them.

Drake rapped his knuckles against the metal. They made a sound like the chiming of some ancient bell. "He's sealed himself in," Drake realised. He set off running. "There's a hole round the side," he said, racing towards the spot where Dim and Spud had torn through the wall.

He stopped, mid-way across the school yard. A wall of shiny chrome covered the hole like a sticking-plaster. "We can't get in," Drake cried. "He's blocked us out."

"You know your problem? Well, one of them, anyway?" War growled. "You give up far too easily."

The giant hurled his sword. It flipped, end over end, before the blade buried itself in the rectangle of metal. Gripping the hilt with both hands, War dragged the blade across, then down. He pulled the sword free, then fired a kick against the damaged metal. It squealed, then swung inwards.

"Nae bother," he said, ducking his head as he led the other two hors.e.m.e.n into the school.

"Up here," Drake told them. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the top. In moments, he was outside Dr Black's cla.s.sroom. He didn't even wait for the others to catch up before pushing into the room.

The first thing he saw was Toxie. The cat-faced h.e.l.lhound was on his side, half buried by broken furniture. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and a puddle of dark, almost purple blood pooled on the floor around him.

"I figured, if I killed him, he'd only come back."

Drake spun to find Dr Black sitting behind his desk. His clothes were torn and scorched in places, but otherwise he seemed none the worse for his battle with Toxie.

"So I let him live. But only just."

"You monster!"

Drake hadn't even heard the other hors.e.m.e.n enter the room, but Pestilence's voice was suddenly there in his ear.

"Yes," Dr Black chuckled. "I know. So good to see you again, Pest."

"Yeah?" Pest sniffed. "Well... well... not likewise."

"Still as devastatingly witty as ever, I see," Dr Black noted.

"We've come to stop you," Drake told him. "To stop... whatever it is you're doing."

The teacher blinked, then threw back his head and laughed. "Stop me?" he said. "Didn't they explain to you how this whole thing is supposed to work? This is the end, boy. This is the Apocalypse. That word mean anything to you? You can't stop me. No one can stop me."

War took a step closer, his hand tightening round his sword. "Remember me?"

"Ah, War. I advise you to stay where you are," Dr Black warned. He was on his feet, suddenly serious. "You know why all those police are out there? You know why the crowd has gathered?"

He beckoned with his finger for them to follow, as he made his way to the cupboard. "Because I have hostages," he said, in a sing-song voice. With a kick, he opened the door to reveal Mel sitting on the floor beside Mr Franks. The young teacher was awake, but still flat on his back.

"Drake?" Mel cried, before the door was pulled closed again.

"She came back to check on him. Isn't that n.o.ble?" Dr Black asked. His face was lit up with a manic glee as he strolled over and leaned an elbow on the windowsill. "But now I have them both."

"In the cupboard," War said.

"Precisely!"

"But you're not in the cupboard. And neither are we." With two big paces, War positioned himself directly in front of the cupboard door. "And now you can't get in the cupboard, either."

Dr Black's grin remained fixed, but his eyes had begun darting left and right, as if War's meaning was very slowly becoming clear.

"So, what he's saying," Pest explained, "is that you have now effectively lost your hostages."

"And we're free to kick your a.s.s," Drake concluded. He pointed to the bearded giant on his left. "Well, mostly him."

Dr Black's smile had gone completely now. "There's only one little problem," he said.

"What's that?" asked Drake.

"You're going to have to catch me first!"

With a crash, the teacher hurled himself through the window behind him. The hors.e.m.e.n raced over in time to see him crunch face-first on to the concrete twenty metres below.

"Ooh, that's going to hurt," Pest winced. Even before the sentence was out of his mouth, though, Dr Black had begun to move. He got quickly to his feet, looked up at the window, and smiled.

"That's not right," War frowned. "He shouldn't be able to do that."

Dr Black was off and running, racing towards the two steeds standing together by the school gates.

"The horses," Pest gasped. "He's going for the horses."

"b.u.g.g.e.r that," War growled. "After him!"

With a twitch of his legs, War propelled himself through the window, taking a large chunk of wall out with him. Drake leaned over and watched as War landed on his feet, then began to sprint across the school grounds after Dr Black.

"Ready?" asked Pest, taking a series of quick, deep breaths.

"For what?" Drake asked. "We're not... We can't jump that!"

"Yes, we can. We're the Hors.e.m.e.n of the Apocalypse. We can do lots of things," Pest said. A rubber-gloved hand caught Drake by the sleeve and pulled him towards the hole.

Drake screamed as gravity took hold. The wind whipped around him and he felt Pest's grip slip from his arm. His limbs flailed wildly. The wind continued to whip around him. He screamed some more. Flailing. Wind. Screaming.

He had just begun to think it was taking a very long time for him to hit the ground, when he hit the ground. His knees crunched on to the concrete first, then his shoulder, then the top of his head as his momentum bounced him over on to his back. He lay there, quite still, looking up at the broken window and idly wondering if he were still alive.

"See?" said Pest, leaning over him. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Dr Black raced across the school yard, moving faster than any human being had any right to. Each bound covered well over a metre, like a triple jumper preparing for take-off, but never quite reaching that final spectacular leap.

Had any of the gathered crowds been awake to watch him, they'd have thought he was running impossibly fast. But they would also have thought that the bearded man behind him was running faster. And they would have been right.

Dr Black glanced over his shoulder, realised he wasn't going to have time to get on a horse, and so carried on past them. He tore through the yellow police tape and went rushing out on to the street beyond.

There, surrounded by the unconscious forms of his former pupils, he stopped, turned and waited for the coming of War.

"Given up, have you?" War boomed, slowing to a jog, then finally, to a stop. "Realised you can't escape?"

"I wasn't trying to escape, you idiot," Dr Black told him, as Drake and Pestilence ran up to join them. "I was drawing you away."

"What?" Drake asked. "What are you talking about?" He glanced nervously at War. "What's he talking about?"

"It's not him," War said. "He was never Death."

Dr Black's eyes lit up. Literally lit up. "Can you say decoy?" he grinned. He was still grinning as War brought his sword slicing down towards his head.