Part 20 (1/2)
”Oh, aye, brilliant,” War said. ”Now what?”
Drake leaned back and looked up at the school building, teetering eighty metres above him on the colossal robot's shoulders.
”I need to get up to... Wait,” he said. ”What's it doing?” As he was speaking, one of the chrome giant's arms had begun to move. It rose straight out in front of it, then stopped at a forty-five degree angle to the body. Fingers the size of telephone boxes unfolded, and the metal palm of the robot's hand glowed with a swirling white light.
”I don't like the look of that,” Pestilence fretted. He stood behind War, although even this move didn't do much to rea.s.sure him.
”What is it?” asked Famine.
As if in answer to the question, the slumbering bodies of the children and police around them began to glow a vibrant shade of blue. Drake watched, hypnotised by the electric glow that now surrounded every one of the sleeping people.
”What's that light?” he asked, getting as close to the barrier as he could without risking stepping back through.
”It's like a big swirling vortex thingy,” Pest declared, with the air of authority normally reserved for someone who has at least a vague idea of what they're on about.
”Not that light a” that light,” said Drake. He pointed down to the people on the ground, who were now lit up like a particularly blue Christmas tree.
War, Pestilence and Famine regarded the figures at their feet. They leaned in closer for a better look.
”What light?” Pest said eventually.
”You can't see that?” Drake asked. The lights had become so bright they had merged into one near-blinding glow. ”They're all lit up blue.”
”Souls,” War said gravely. ”My guess is you're seeing their souls. It's something only Death can do.”
Drake felt sick. ”So, that means, what? He's killing them?”
War's eyes went from sleeping body to sleeping body, as if trying to picture them as Drake saw them. ”I don't know,” he admitted. ”He must be. Unless... What else did that robot-teacher fella say to you? What did he tell you about his plans?”
”Nothing,” Drake said. ”Just said he was going to get his strength back, and then he was going to do something spectacular.”
The part of War's face that Drake could see went pale. ”Aw, no,” he said. ”Aw, no.”
”What is it?” Drake asked. ”What's wrong?”
”There's only one way he can get his strength back.”
”How?”
Drake instinctively ducked, as one of the blue lights became a sphere the size of a bowling-ball, and rocketed upwards past his head. He turned and followed it with its gaze as it was sucked towards the swirling vortex in the palm of the giant robot's hand, like fluff towards a vacuum cleaner, or rugby players to an Indian restaurant.
The ball vanished into the twirling white light, just as two others launched up from the ground at Drake's back.
”Their life force. Their souls,” War said. ”He's going to eat their souls.”
”Ugh, that's disgusting,” Famine spat. The others turned to look at him. ”What?” he said, returning their glares. ”Even I have to draw the line somewhere.”
”Get your backside up there,” War said, oblivious to the b.a.l.l.s of light streaking past him with increasing regularity. ”You have to take him out before he can power himself back up.”
”What'll happen if he does?”
War clenched his jaw. ”Anything he wants. Stop him, or Armageddon's happening right here, right now, signs or no b.l.o.o.d.y signs.”
Drake nodded his understanding. ”Right,” he said, looking up. ”Um... how do I get up there?”
”You managed the walking-through-walls thing, so you can manage the horse,” War told him. ”Whistle. Summon it. Call forth the steed of Death.”
He was right, Drake knew. It was now or never. This was his moment.
Curling his index finger and thumb once again, he placed them just inside his mouth, and he blew.
Pffffffffff.
”b.u.g.g.e.r all,” War said, with a not-entirely-surprised sigh.
Drake tried again, but War was quick to stop him. ”You're wasting time, and, frankly, you're embarra.s.sing yourself,” he told him. ”Practise later. Now, get your fingers out of your mouth and start climbing.”
”Climbing?” Drake said, but even as he spoke the word, he realised he had no other choice. Mel was up there, in danger. And then there was the whole end-of-the-world thing too. ”I'll try to find a way to shut off the s.h.i.+eld. When I do, take the robot down. Stop it hurting anyone, or worse.”
With the flickering glow of stolen souls dancing eerily around him, Drake raced over to the robot's foot, found a handhold, and slowly, steadily began to climb.
DRAKE FELT LIKE Jack in Jack and the Beanstalk, only he wasn't climbing the beanstalk, he was climbing the giant himself.
The metal used in the robot's construction was smooth, but the surface itself wasn't. It was crisscrossed with cables and pitted with rivets. The hexagonal heads of bolts stuck out regularly along the machine's entire length. The effect was like a ladder, reaching all the way up from the ground to the head, far, far above.
He reached for the next handhold, a length of steel cable running almost horizontally across the mechanical thigh. His fingertips found it, brushed against the rough surface, then missed completely as the cable began to move.
No, not the cable, Drake realised. The entire leg.
He felt himself sliding, slipping, swinging left as the leg slowly raised to the right. Frantically, he jammed his foot against a protruding rivet and his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the bolt he was clinging to.
He craned his neck, and looked down. The other hors.e.m.e.n were retreating, pulling back as the leg Drake was hanging from came stomping down towards them.
”The kids!” Drake shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the creaking of the metal leg. The other schoolchildren and the police were all still flat on the ground. The souls were still streaking from within them before disappearing into the hand just fifteen or twenty metres away from Drake, but the foot was coming down, down, down and there was nothing Drake could do about it.
He closed his eyes and pressed his face in against the metal, unable to watch what was about to happen next. He was supposed to be the personification of death itself, but he could not a” would not a” watch everyone die.
There was a boom as the foot crunched down on to the ground, and a sudden jolt that almost sent Drake tumbling in the same direction. One of his hands slipped from the bolt and his legs were suddenly kicking against thin air.
Despite all that, he had to look down. He had to know if all those people were dead ora”
”Alive,” he said, and the word came out as a breathless laugh. The foot had stepped cleanly over them, crus.h.i.+ng the police cars instead. A few more souls were sucked from the sleeping teenagers, and Drake suddenly found himself wondering if he were wrong. If the life force was being torn from within them, then maybe they weren't still alive after all.
There was another groaning of metal and the other leg began to lift. The robot had started to walk. Drake looked up. The waist was just half a dozen metres away. He had to get past there before the right leg moved again.
Gritting his teeth, Drake reached for the horizontal cable again, wrapped his fingers round it and pulled.
”Mount up,” War commanded, swinging himself into the saddle of the red horse. ”Keep close to that big b.u.g.g.e.r, but don't get too near the barrier.”
Pestilence climbed up on to his horse's back and took hold of the reins, ignoring the animal's stress-induced nosebleed. With a grunt, Famine slid on to the faux leather seat of his scooter and turned the key in the ignition.