Colm & the Lazarus Key (14 page)

Soon it would be free and Hugh DeLancey-O’Brien would live again.

·•·

Cedric slammed on the brakes and sent gravel flying. It pinged against the windows of the Red House Hotel. He got out of the car and ran to the front door, Kate just behind him. The door was open. Funny that, Cedric thought. Although he knew it wasn’t funny. In fact, it sent a chill right through him. There was only one explanation. The rat-faced man was already here. He knew he wasn’t that far away when he rang him, but he never thought he’d be here so quickly.

‘Stay near me, Kate,’ he said. He wished he had a gun. In America all the private detectives had guns. Well, they did in the movies anyway.

‘Maybe we should split up. I’ll take upstairs and you
…
’

‘I said to stick with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not if he’s around here
,
’ Cedric said.

Kate felt her heart warm. He was a good man after all. She was right.

‘Have you got a plan?’ she asked.

‘There’s only one plan that makes any sense and that’s to run away. Right now,’ he replied.

‘But we’re not going to do that, are we?’

‘No
,
’ he said gloomily.

‘Ced
…
’

‘Sssh. Do you hear that?’

‘Yes. It sounds like someone crying. This way
.
’

They ran through the restaurant and into the kitchen. Marie was sitting on the floor. She looked groggy. She held a glass of water up to Drake’s lips, but he wasn’t drinking. He was still out cold.

‘Well, he’s got his man. We may as well go,’ Cedric said.

Marie looked up when she heard his voice.

‘Who are you?’ she asked. A single tear ran down her cheek.

‘Us? We’re nobody. Just looking for a room for the night, but you’re obviously busy, so we’ll be on our way
,
’ he replied.

‘Shut up, Cedric,’ Kate said. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Does it look like everything’s all right?’ Marie asked.

Kate had to admit that it didn’t. It looked far from OK.

‘The children,’ Marie said. ‘I think they’re gone into the woods after him. Please help us. He has to be stopped.’

Cedric Murphy didn’t need to ask who had to be stopped. He already knew.

·•·

Colm heard the rustle of the leaves. The creature was getting closer. It got colder all of a sudden. It might have been the lateness of the hour or just a coincidence, but he didn’t think so.

‘Keep your eyes peeled children. You’re about to see something amazing,’ smirked the rat-faced little man.

The Key felt warmer in Colm’s hand. It was almost burning now as he grew weaker by the second. His breath came in ragged bursts. Maybe Lauryn was right after all, he thought. If you touch
The Book of Dread
you don’t survive to see another day. Why wasn’t The Brute doing something, he wondered. He was a man of action. At least that’s what he’d always told Colm. He looked over at his cousin, whose face couldn’t hide what he was feeling. He was petrified. Lauryn wasn’t any better. Her hands trembled. Her face was ghostly pale in the beam of the flashlight.

‘Hey. Kids. Are you in there somewhere?’

A man’s voice. Off to the right. Colm hadn’t the strength to respond.

But The Brute and Lauryn had.

‘Over here.’

‘Help. Please help.’

‘If either of you speak another word then I will end this right now,’ said the rat-faced little man quietly.

They shut up immediately.

·•·

‘Where did the voices come from?’ Cedric asked.

‘Just over there,’ Kate replied.

‘If we just … euurrggh.’

‘Ced. Are you OK? Speak to me.’

‘I’m fine. I just stepped into something slimy and … ah, man, my shoes are ruined. And some of it’s on my pants leg. This is my best suit
,
’ he said forlornly.

‘Ced. Focus
.
’

‘Right. This way.’

He ran as fast as he could, but it was difficult to run through a forest at night with only a torch to guide the way. And Cedric was quite useless when it came to any form of exercise. Mainly because the last time he’d had a proper workout was in a PE class in primary school over thirty years previously.

‘I think I see something
,
’ Kate said.

·•·

The creature couldn’t see it, but it knew it was near. It could taste it. Only minutes separated it from a new life. The world would be different now. But it would adapt. It didn’t matter what century it was. Humans never changed. Victory always came to the strong and the intelligent. Never the weak. Never the stupid. And it was going to be strong again. As strong as when it too had been human. People feared it. He could sense it. But they had feared it then too. When it had owned the house and land and everything around. It was coming home. Soon now.

·•·

‘What is it?’ Lauryn screamed.

She grabbed The Brute by the arm. A few hours ago this would have made him the happiest teenager in the country, but now he didn’t even notice. He didn’t answer. He just stood, staring at the creature that slowly crossed the clearing.

Colm could barely keep his eyes open, but they were open just enough to see the miserable, foul thing that was coming for him.

·•·

‘Quickly, Kate,’ Cedric said when he heard Lauryn’s scream.

‘I can’t,’ Kate said, gasping in great lungfuls of air. ‘You go on, Ced. Help them. I’ll catch up with you
.
’

Even though Cedric wasn’t speedy, he was faster than Kate. He burst through the briers, the thorns ripping at his clothes. This time he didn’t give his suit a second thought. He had to help the children. The light from his torch bounced around picking out parts of trees and the ground until it landed on a shape. Someone lying on the ground. He bent down. She was breathing. An old woman. It was Mrs McMahon.

·•·

‘Stop screaming
,
’ commanded the rat-faced little man, but for the first time in a long time one of his commands was ignored.

Lauryn couldn’t stop. She had heard about the creature, but seeing it was far worse than she imagined it ever could be. It made her recoil in horror. In panic.

‘Get it away from me,’ she shouted. She shut her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at it.

But she didn’t have to worry. It wasn’t going towards her. Colm was its prey.

The creature stretched out a long miserable arm and hissed one word.

‘Miiiiiiinnnnne.’

It chilled Colm to the bone. He had to get away from it. But he couldn’t get up. His mind willed him to but his body refused to obey its instructions. The creature that was once Hugh DeLancey-O’Brien shuffled towards him. It was less than ten yards away.

The rat-faced little man smiled. Then the smile changed to a frown, as The Brute roared and, with his head down, charged like a bull at the creature. He was right on course. Full speed ahead.

He missed.

He didn’t know how. The creature didn’t even appear to move, yet somehow it had evaded him. He’d get it the second time. He wouldn’t miss twice.

He wouldn’t get the chance.

The rat-faced little man grasped The Brute’s neck between his thumb and forefinger and The Brute slumped to the ground.

‘Lauryn,’ Colm said.

She didn’t hear him. She was too busy screaming.

He took a deep breath and felt the pain in his chest.

‘Lauryn,’ he shouted.

This time she heard him. She stopped in mid-scream, her face a mask of confusion and terror.

‘Run,’ he whispered.

She snapped out of it. Just like that. The old Lauryn was back.

The creature was five yards away.

‘No. I won’t run. I’m not leaving you.’

‘Very admirable
,
’ said the little man, with a mocking laugh.

Time seemed to stand still. Colm’s mind raced. There had to be something he was missing. What was it? The Key. No. Holding the Key. Whoever held the Key. And something else. Something he’d read. In
The Book of Dread
. The creature hated light. That was it.

He lifted the torch. His hand shook, but he managed to focus and shone it at the thing that was moving towards him. It hissed. It didn’t like the light. But it didn’t stop it. It shuffled closer and closer. Colm willed the sun to rise above the trees and kill the creature, but dawn was still twenty minutes away.

He couldn’t go out like this. Just sitting there doing nothing. Think, Colm, think, he said to himself. There had to be something. Some clue. Something he’d heard. Something he’d read.

The rat-faced little man sat down beside Colm.

‘Not long to go now,’ he said.

He was so close to Colm that their shoulders were touching. Well, at least if the creature gets me then he’ll get this man as well, Colm thought.

‘He won’t touch me,’ the man said, as if reading Colm’s mind. ‘The problem with Mr DeLancey-O’Brien over there,’ he nodded in the creature’s direction, ‘is that when he stole the Key in Boston he didn’t know how to use its power. I do. The knowledge was passed down by the Sign of Lazarus from generation to generation. We knew one day that the Key would return to us. I will rid the world of this vile creature. Unfortunately for you, you will have to lose your life in the process.’

The rat-faced little man had never spoken that much in his entire life. He rubbed the tattoo on the inner part of his arm. The diamond with the skull inside. The symbol of the Lazarus Key. The symbol his father, grandfather and beyond had tattooed on their arms, all hoping one day to be the one who would return the Key to what they regarded as its rightful home. And now the moment was here.

Colm tried to clear his mind of worry and fear. It didn’t work. But from somewhere, the idea popped into his head. Just like that. And he knew at once what he had to do. It was so simple. It was also difficult. He was only going to get one chance. If he failed then it was all over. And even if he succeeded he didn’t know if it would work.

He needed Lauryn. She was clever, wasn’t she? He was about to find out.

The rat-faced little man watched with glee as the creature loomed over Colm. He’d waited almost forty years for this moment. Ever since the day his father had shown him the tattoo of the skull and the diamond on his arm. He’d told him the story of the gang in Boston that every generation of his family had belonged to and how that Englishman – although he now knew he was Irish – had stolen their most powerful possession. The one that made them rulers. The thing that made them great. He had vowed then and there, even though he was only nine years old, that he would recover the Lazarus Key and that one day he would use it and that he would be as powerful as his ancestors had been. And now that moment had come.

‘Lauryn. The library. Do what you did in the library
,
’ Colm said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The rat-faced man had let his guard slip for the first time in years. He’d been too wrapped up in his thoughts. That wasn’t like him. Had the boy said something? It didn’t matter. What could he do now?

Colm didn’t know if that was enough for her. He hoped so. He couldn’t waste any more energy. He needed to save what little he had.

‘I told you not to speak
,
’ said the man.

The creature leaned over Colm as if it was going to envelop him in its robes. Colm felt its icy touch and his blood ran cold. His eyelids fluttered. There wasn’t long left now.

The rat-faced man spotted something out of the corner of his eye. A movement. It was the girl.

Lauryn dived through the air. Straight for him.

The man didn’t even try to stand up. He just swatted her away as if she was a fly that was buzzing around his head. Lauryn landed face down in the mud.

The rat-faced little man threw back his head and laughed. Long and loud.

With his last drop of strength Colm swung his arm around and slapped the man right in the mouth.

‘What do
…
’ the man began. There was something in his mouth. What had the boy done?

Lauryn was on her feet in a flash. She knew what Colm had done.

She jumped onto the rat-faced man’s back and clamped her hand tightly around his mouth. The man was stunned. Nobody had ever fought back. Ever. He’d show her why.

He threw himself backwards and slammed her into the ground. She cried out in pain, but clung on to him. There was no way she was letting go.

The object rattled around in the man’s mouth. He couldn’t spit it out. He tried to sit up, but Lauryn dragged him back down. The force sent the object flying to the back of his throat and it lodged there. The man coughed and spluttered. He was choking. His eyes began to water, but he didn’t panic. He never panicked. He did the only thing he could think of – he swallowed the object.