The Gates (Samuel Johnson vs. the Devil #1)(38)

“Find them,” she said. “Find them all and tear them apart.”

? ? ?

Samuel, Maria, and Tom were in Samuel’s bedroom, sitting in front of Samuel’s computer and staring at the e-mail message that Samuel had accessed through his Google account. Samuel’s mother stood over them. The message from Dr. Planck read:

? ? ?

VERY INTERESTED IN YOUR E-MAIL. I WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE THIS EVENING AT FIVE THIRTY TO DISCUSS IT. HOPE THIS IS CONVENIENT. IF THERE IS A PROBLEM, I CAN BE CONTACTED AT THE NUMBER BELOW.

? ? ?

“He waited here for a while, then said he wanted to take a look at the Abernathys’ house,” said Mrs. Johnson. “What have you been telling people, Samuel?”

“What I’ve been trying to explain to you all along,” said Samuel. “The Abernathys are about to do something terrible, and they have to be stopped.”

This time, his mother didn’t contradict him. Listening to Dr. Planck, she had begun to remember her encounter with Mrs. Abernathy at the supermarket, and how frightened she had been to see Samuel talking to her by the churchyard, even if she hadn’t understood why at the time. Now she knew that Samuel was telling the truth. Mrs. Abernathy was bad. Mrs. Abernathy was, in fact, quite horrid.

There was a cell phone number with the message. Using his home phone, Samuel dialed the number. The phone was answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” said a man’s voice. He sounded out of breath.

“Is that Dr. Planck?” asked Samuel.

“Indeed it is. Is that Samuel?”

“Yes. I got your e-mail.”

“Samuel, I’m rather busy right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. It appears that I’m being chased by a flying skull.”

Before Samuel could say anything more, they were cut off.

Mrs. Johnson looked worried.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

Samuel tried redialing the number, but there was no tone. He handed the phone to Tom.

“It’s gone dead.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was being chased by a flying skull.”

“Oh,” said Tom. “That’s not good.”

But before he could say anything else, they heard the sound of glass breaking from somewhere downstairs.

“What was that?” said Mrs. Johnson.

“It sounded like one of your windows breaking,” said Tom. He grabbed Samuel’s cricket bat from beside the bedroom door. They listened, but could hear no further noise. Slowly they advanced down the hallway, toward the stairs, Tom in the lead.

“Careful,” said Mrs. Johnson. “Oh, Samuel, I wish your dad was here.”

They were halfway to the stairs when a white object flew round the corner and then stopped in midair, its wings flapping just hard enough to keep it from falling to the floor. Its jaws never stopped snapping, opening wide enough for a moment to take a man’s fist before the twin rows of sharp teeth closed on each other again. Two unblinking black eyes were set like dark jewels in its bony sockets.

“What. Is. That?” said Mrs. Johnson.

“It looks like a skull. With wings,” said Samuel.

“What’s it doing in our house?” said Mrs. Johnson.

It was Maria who spoke. “I think it’s looking for us.”

As if in response, the wings of the chattering skull began to beat faster. It changed its position slightly, then shot forward so fast that it was almost a blur. Samuel, Maria, and Mrs. Johnson dived to the floor, but Tom remained standing. Instinctively he drew back his bat and struck the flying skull when it was about two feet from his face. There was a loud crack! and the skull fell to the floor, its jaws still moving but with most of its teeth now knocked out. One wing had broken off, while the other was beating feebly against the carpet. Tom stood over it and hit it once again with the bat. The skull broke into fragments, the jaws ceased snapping, and its eyes went from black to a milky gray.

“Tom!” shouted Maria. “Look out!”

A second skull appeared at the end of the hallway, followed by a third. The three children and Mrs. Johnson backed away until they came to the wall. Tom took a few steps forward, tapped his bat on the carpet, and then took up a stance that would have been frowned upon on a cricket field, the bat raised to shoulder level, ready to strike.

“Tom,” said Mrs. Johnson, pulling Samuel and Maria into the nearest bedroom. “Please be careful!”

“I know what I’m doing,” said Tom. “Right, then,” he shouted at the skulls. “Come and have a go, if you think you’re hard enough.”

The two skulls flew toward him at the same moment, one traveling slightly faster and lower than the other. Tom crouched and caught the lead skull with a perfect swing, the bat striking so hard that the skull immediately shattered into three pieces, but Tom wasn’t quick enough to destroy the second skull as well. He was forced to drop to the floor as it zoomed over his head and hit the wall, leaving a mark on the paintwork and dislodging a chunk of plaster. It seemed a little dazed by the collision, but recovered quickly and was preparing to attack again when Samuel flung a blue towel over it, blinding it.

“Now, Tom!” shouted Samuel.

Tom brought the bat down as hard as he could on the top of the skull. It dropped to the floor, still covered by the towel, and he struck at it until he had virtually flattened it. Samuel, Maria, and Mrs. Johnson joined him, and all four of them stared at the remains of the skulls that now littered the hallway.