Evil Star (14 page)

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Authors: Anthony Horowitz

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Supernatural, #Incas, #Indians of South America, #Nazca Lines Site (Peru), #Peru, #Indians of South America - Peru

BOOK: Evil Star
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The first policeman that Pedro had hit was already recovering. Matt took one look at him and then, finding some last hidden reserve of strength, lashed out with his foot. His toe cap came into contact with soft flesh. He had kicked the man right between the legs and the man crum-pled without a sound.

Another rock sailed past. One of the other policemen was hit a Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star second time and knocked off his feet, stumbling into the side of his car and setting off another alarm. The third policeman had crawled away to hide.

"Matt!" Pedro called again.

Matt didn't need any more encouragement. With his hands gripping his stomach, doubled up in pain, he lurched forward. The Peruvian boy waited for him, a fourth stone ready in his slingshot in case anyone tried to follow. But nobody did.

Pedro reached out and grabbed hold of Matt, and together they ran off as fast as they could. The alarm bells were still jangling, and now they were joined by the scream of sirens as more police cars approached. Seconds later, they pulled up in front of the hotel.

Captain Rodriguez had reappeared, his face full of fury. But they were too late. The street was empty.

The two boys had disappeared.

Chapter 9 Poison Town

An hour later, they were still running.

Matt was astonished by how much energy Pedro seemed to have.

After all, he looked as if he hadn't eaten for a week. But he had kept up the same pace ever since they had left the hotel, pausing only when a dirty blue van with barred windows and the words
policia
nacional
painted on the side came speeding past. Then Pedro ducked behind what looked like a broken-down and abandoned Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star truck, dragging Matt with him. He took one look at Matt and signaled to him to rest. The two of them sat on the pavement.

As he regained his breath, Matt remembered what Rodriguez had told him. He had no papers. He had entered Peru illegally. At the time, when the Nexus had suggested it, forged passports had seemed like a good idea. But in fact he and Richard had been delivered, gift wrapped, into enemy hands. Matt couldn't prove who he was. There was no record of his arrival, and even when the Nexus realized he was missing and came looking for him, there would be nothing they could do. He would simply have disap-peared.

"Debemos apresurarnos,
" Pedro said, and stood up again.

They were in a wide, busy road, somewhere on the edge of Lima, standing in front of a row of shops and a restau-rant, all of them missing their front windows and front doors ... in fact, they had no fronts at all. They were like open boxes with their insides spilling out onto the street, the smell of food mixing with the petrol fumes.

Opposite them, a row of men in jeans and baseball caps sat slumped against a low, concrete wall, seemingly with nothing to do. There were also a couple of shoeshine boys with crude, wooden boxes strapped to their backs. The sight gave Matt a jolt. They were both about six years old.

"Where are we going?" Matt asked.

Either Pedro didn't understand or he couldn't be both-ered to answer.

He was already moving down the pavement. Matt was exhausted, but he forced himself to follow. What else could he do?

They came to a set of traffic lights, and Pedro's face broke into a grin. It was the first time Matt had seen him smile. There was a truck waiting, open-backed and piled with building materials. Pedro had Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star recognized the driver. He ran forward and began to talk, gesturing a couple of times in Matt's direction. The lights changed to green and at once all the cars behind began to blast their horns. But the driver wasn't in any hurry. He waited until Pedro had finished, glanced briefly at Matt, then jerked his thumb. Pedro signaled to him and, with a huge feeling of relief, Matt climbed with him into the back.

They set off again.

Matt was desperately tired. He'd only managed a few hours of troubled sleep the night before. He was also in a bad way following his encounter with Rodriguez. There was a sick pounding in his head and in his stomach and he was sure he'd broken a rib. The police had beaten him up. How could such a thing have happened — and in a public place, in the middle of a hotel? What sort of country was this?

The driver shouted something out the window, and Matt saw his hand appear, holding a small bunch of bananas. Pedro took them and broke some off, offering them to Matt. Matt shook his head. He was starving, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. He was in too much trouble, too much pain. Pedro shrugged, peeled a banana, and took a bite.

Matt wasn't sure what to make of this boy. There was no doubt that Pedro had saved him by waiting with his sling-shot, but it was hard to know exactly why. Right now he was ignoring him completely. It was as if Matt were nothing more than an annoyance, like a stray animal following him down the street. Certainly there was nothing very friendly about him. Quite the opposite. Matt had to remind himself that only a few hours before, Pedro had been trying to rob him — and he was still wearing his watch! Maybe he was still interested in Matt's ten-pound note. No. That wasn't fair. Matt had already offered him the money, and Pedro had refused to take it. So Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star where were they going now? Pedro must live somewhere in this great, unwelcoming city. Perhaps he had parents. Hopefully he would know some-body who could help.

About twenty minutes later, the truck stopped and the two of them climbed out, Pedro waving and shouting at the driver. Matt found himself standing at the foot of a mountain with an ugly township, a tangle of bricks and wires, sprawling its way up the slope. He had never seen anything like it. His first impression was that this was a com-munity that had tumbled down the hillside, getting broken and jumbled up along the way. Then he realized that it had been built like this. It was a barrio, a shantytown, home to only the poorest of the poor.

As ever, Pedro was already moving. Matt followed him as he plunged into a maze of narrow streets and passage-ways, none of them paved, all of them covered in rubbish and other debris. Only now that he was in the middle of it all did Matt see that less than half the houses were made of brick. Most of them had been built out of cardboard, cor-rugated iron, straw mats, plastic sheeting, or a mixture of all four. They came to a sort of square where a group of old women in bright shawls and bowler hats sat squatting beside a rusty oil drum that had been turned into a makeshift oven. They were cooking some sort of stew, cooking it in cans that they had beaten flat and made into pans. A few scrawny chickens pecked hopelessly at the rubble, and a dog — it was hard to be sure if it was alive or dead — lay stretched out in the sun. There was a terrible smell of sew-age. Matt covered his nose and mouth with his hand.

He was amazed that anyone could live here — although at the same time, Pedro barely seemed to notice it.

Matt was aware of the women looking at him curiously. He Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star wondered what he must look like. He was grubby and disheveled, but even so, he was white. His clothes were new and expensive . ..

certainly compared with what Pedro was wearing. In their eyes, he would be a rich European kid and he doubted that many of those showed up around here. He nodded at them and hurried on after Pedro.

They were climbing farther up the mountain. The effort was hurting Matt's chest — he could feel his ribs aching — and he was beginning to wonder how long he could keep going when Pedro arrived at a small, brick building with two windows covered, from the inside, with some sort of sack-ing. Pedro cupped a hand, gesturing at him to come in.

Was this where he lived? Suddenly apprehensive, Matt followed him through the doorway. There was no door. He found himself in a square boxlike space, and as his eyes got used to the lack of light, he made out a wooden table, two chairs, a Primus stove — the sort of thing he'd used to go camping — a few tins, and a low, narrow bed.

Then he saw that there was a man lying on the bed. Pedro was squatting beside him, talking excitedly. Slowly the man sat up.

He was about sixty years old, wearing a suit that looked about the same age. He had slept in it, and the material was terribly crumpled.

Nearly all the buttons were missing and his shirt hung outside his pants. He was unshaven, with gray stubble spreading around a mouth that was thin and rather cruel. The man's eyes were bloodshot and sly. For a long minute he said nothing at all, looking at Matt as if he were weighing him up, trying to work out what he might be worth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed. Then, at last, he spoke.

"Welcome," he said.

Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star It was the first friendly word of English Matt had heard since he had been separated from Richard, and he felt a flood of relief. But at the same time, examining the man, he began to wonder if his troubles were yet over. Certainly, this wasn't the savior he had been hoping for.

"Pedro tells me that you are American," the man said. His accent was unattractive. Or maybe it was the suspicious tone of his voice, the way he drawled the words.

"No. I'm English," Matt said.

"From England!" The man was amused. "From London?"

"I flew from London. But I live in a place called York."

"York." The man repeated the word but had obviously never heard of it. "Pedro says that you are alone. That you were beaten by the police. That they were going to arrest you."

“Yes. Can you thank him for helping me?"

"He does not need your gratitude. What makes you think he wants anything from you?"

The man reached down beside the bed and produced a bottle, half filled with some transparent liquid. He drank and as he lowered it, Matt caught the scent of alcohol. Next he took out half a cigar from his jacket pocket and lit it. All the time, his eyes never left the new arrival.

"Pedro says you have money," he said.

Matt hesitated — but once again he knew he had no choice. He took out the ten-pound note and gave it to the man.

The man turned the note in his hands, then slid it into his jacket pocket with a twitch of the lips that might have been a smile. A Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star moment later, he snapped something at Pedro. Pedro scowled. The man waited. Pedro slipped Matt's watch off his wrist and handed it over.

"What is your name?" the man asked.

Once again, Matt hesitated. What name should he use? But there was no point trying to pretend he was someone he wasn't. The fake passport had already proved itself to be useless. "I'm Matt," he said.

"And I am Sebastian." The man blew out smoke. It hung in the air, silvery gray. "It seems that you need help, my friend."

"I haven't got any more money to give you," Matt mut-tered angrily.

“Your money and your watch will buy me food. But right now, I think, they are of no use to you. If you want them, take them and go.

You will probably be dead, or in jail, before the sun goes down. But if you want my help, be polite to me. You are in my house.

Remember that."

Matt bit his lip. Sebastian was right. The money was irrelevant.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What is this place?"

"This community has a name," Sebastian replied. "The local people call it Ciudad del Veneno. In English, you would say . . . Poison Town. They call it that because of the amount of disease that there is here. Cholera. Bronchitis. Pleurisy. Diphtheria. None of us has any right to live in this place. We have stolen this land and built our homes. But the authorities — the police and the landlords — never come here. They are too scared."

Matt looked around him, almost afraid to breathe.

"Don't worry, Matt." Sebastian smiled, showing two gold-capped teeth. "There is no illness in this house or in this street. Nine of us Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star live here. And there are seven more next door. And nobody understands why. We have noth-ing . . . but we have our health."

"Does Pedro live here?"

Pedro glanced up, hearing his name. Until now, he had been examining Matt with a look of complete mistrust. But he had shown no interest in what was being said.

"He sleeps on the floor, right where you are standing now. He works for me. He and the other children. But why are we wasting time, talking about him? There are a million kids like him in Lima. They live. They die. They are of no use at all. But an English boy in Poison Town, that is another matter. How do you come to be here, Matt? Why are the police looking for you? You must tell me everything and then we will see how we can help.
If we
can help. If we want to . . ."

Everything?

Matt didn't know where to start. His story was so huge. It had swallowed up his life. And where did he begin? With the death of his parents six years ago or his involvement with Raven's Gate and the Nexus? It was hopeless. Matt knew that. He could talk all day and this man wouldn't believe a word of it.

"I can't explain it all to you," he said. "I came to Peru because something bad is about to happen and there are people who thought I could stop it. There were two of us. Me and a friend. His name is Richard Cole and he's older than me . .. twenty-six. Neither of us wanted to come here but we were sent. . ."

"To stop this thing from happening."

Matt nodded. “Yes. I have no passport. The passport I was given is a fake. It was meant to protect me. But the moment I arrived, I was Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star attacked. Richard was kid-napped, and the police tried to arrest me.

There was a police captain. He said he was working for someone called
Diego Salamanda."

Sebastian had been listening to all this with a look of puzzlement and disbelief. The mention of Salamanda was the first thing to provoke any real reaction. His eyes nar-rowed and he allowed a trickle of cigar smoke to escape from the corner of his mouth.

"Salamanda!" he exclaimed. "Do you know who he is?"

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