them off,” Skulduggery said.
Sanguine spat blood and grinned up at him. “Shan’t.”
“Call them off or I’ll hurt you.”
“How much hurt can you deliver in thirty seconds? Because that’s how long you have. They’re goin’ to come in here and you’re goin’ to fight ’em off, and can you guess which one of you’s goin’ to fall first? My money’s on the girl. They’re goin’ to tear her apart. They’re goin’ to eat her alive and I’m goin’ to watch and it’ll be a show I ain’t never goin’ to forget.”
A tune filled the air – a terrible, shrill version of Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’.
“That’ll be them now,” Sanguine said, taking out his phone. He moved slowly, like he expected Skulduggery to start kicking him. Instead, Skulduggery gestured and the phone flew from Sanguine’s hand towards Valkyrie. She caught it, pressed the answer button and held it to her ear.
“Uh, hi,” said a man. She knew the voice from somewhere. “Uh, we may have a slight problem.” It was Vaurien Scapegrace. Of course. It stood to reason he’d be involved in this. “The others kind of, they ate someone. And I know you said not to, but they did it without me knowing so … Basically, they’re acting kind of weird and I’m wondering what I should do.”
Valkyrie covered the mouthpiece and looked at Skulduggery. “It’s Scapegrace,” she said. “He’s outside with the zombies and he says they’re acting strangely. He says they ate someone.”
Sanguine sat up, all colour gone from his face. “They what?”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “Eating people is what zombies tend to do.”
“Not these guys,” Sanguine said. “Let me talk to him.”
“Not a chance,” Valkyrie said.
Sanguine got to his knees. “You have to let me talk to him. I swear to God, you have to. If I tell ’em to attack, you can shoot me, OK? But I need to talk to him.”
There was panic in his voice, a real fear, and Skulduggery hesitated then gave a nod. Valkyrie tossed Sanguine his phone.
“What do you mean they ate someone?” he said into it. “Who’d they eat? No, I don’t want to know his damn name. I just want to know if it was someone livin’. Oh, you idiot. Oh, you moron. My father told you. He said one thing above all else – do not let them taste human flesh and what did you do? What did you do? Exactly. You’re a moron. You’re lucky you’re already dead.”
Sanguine hung up, put his phone away and looked at them.
“Slight change of plans,” he said. “I ain’t goin’ outside.”
“And why is that?” Skulduggery asked.
Sanguine got to his feet, both hands held open in front of him. “You keep those zombies from eatin’ people an’ they’re fine. They rot, an’ they smell, an’ they get dumber an’ dumber as they go on, but they do what they’re told. But you let ’em get one mouthful of human flesh, from a livin’ human, and they go native. The only thing on their minds right now is killin’ an’ eatin’ a whole lot of people. Now obviously, that was the threat I was plannin’ on usin’ against you, but I kind of figured I’d be well out of the way before any of this flesh-eatin’ actually took place.”
“So you’re stuck in here,” Shudder said, “with us.”
Sanguine tried a smile. “Ain’t it ironic?”
Skulduggery took his gun from its holster and looked at Shudder. “How many guests do you have here right now?”
“Five,” he said, “all upstairs in their rooms.”
“You should go tell them to prepare. Any of them who want to help us, they’re welcome. Anyone else should barricade their door.”
Shudder nodded and disappeared up the stairs.
There were hands on the window, pressing and knocking against the glass. Valkyrie saw a face, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. The zombie saw her and snarled. Skulduggery swept his hand slowly and the bookcase slid in front of the window.
They turned the table on its side and laid it against the door in the reception area, then jammed the couch against it to hold it in place. The hotel didn’t have a back door, and there wasn’t much they could do to barricade every window on the ground floor except pull the curtains shut. At least now the zombies couldn’t see their movements. Shudder came down the stairs with a small, thin woman and a balding man.
“We have two volunteers,” he said. “Mr Jib is an Elemental and Miss Nuncio is an Adept.”
“Glad to have another Elemental in the mix,” Skulduggery said to them. “Miss Nuncio, what Adept discipline have you studied?”
“Linguistics and etymology,” she said.
Skulduggery paused. “Languages?”
Miss Nuncio nodded. “I can speak every mortal language ever spoken.”
“Well, pardon me,” Sanguine said, “but how in tarnation is that goin’ to help us fight off a pack of bloodthirsty zombies? You goin’ to throw dictionaries at ’em or just talk ’em to death?”
“Mr Shudder said you could use all the help you could get,” Miss Nuncio said rather primly. “Just because I decided not to devote my life to the study of hurting people does not mean I can’t be useful.”
“You’re a pacifist,” Sanguine groaned.
“I’m a realist, sir. And if a pack of bloodthirsty zombies, as you put it, want to eat me, I will defend myself, you can be certain of that.”
“Goin’ to get stuck in a zombie’s throat – that your big plan?”
“Sanguine,” said Valkyrie, “shut up. You’re the only one down here who can’t use any magic, so you really can’t afford to dismiss those who can.”
He looked at her. “I hate you.”
A window broke. Then another. They moved into the common room. There were two windows in here. One was blocked by the bookcase, the other by nothing more than a curtain. A zombie was trying to crawl through the second one. They watched the curtain writhe like it was alive, and then it parted. The zombie was halfway through and it looked up. It growled and reached for them, so Skulduggery shot it.
“Go for the head if you can,” he
