Darren Shan - Procession of the dead

"Still…" I couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right. I had a nasty suspicion that a regiment of Troops would burst in and spray us with lead. Well, it was too late to worry. I should have done that earlier. I was here now, far beyond the boundaries of caution.

"Where's the file?" I asked, not wanting to waste any more time. We'd tempted fate enough already.

"Over here." She led the way to a smaller stack. "I targeted it because of its size. The taller ones are a pain in the ass. You have to drag out a ladder to get to the top, then pick the upper boxes off and climb down, up again, down again and so on. It takes ages. I stick to the small towers as much as I can."

She pulled the paper down, one stack after another. I assisted her and within a minute we were two-thirds of the way to the ground. "Stop," she said. "It's around here." She began removing single sheets, then found the pot of gold and handed it across.

It was a slim cardboard file. Four letter-sized sheets nestled inside. Just as she'd said, no indication of importance. The name was on a white sticker, stuck in the middle of the front.ayuamarca.

I examined the first sheet. A long list of names, single-spaced, a neat ruled line through the majority. Leonora Shankar was the first name, unlined. Paucar Wami was a bit further down. Then a mass of crossed-out names. I recognized none of them, with one exception-Inti Maimi. There was one further unlined name near the bottom-Conchita's.

The second page. Two survivors. I knew one of them, a general in the Troops. Inti Maimi was here again, near the bottom, once more neatly crossed out.

Two more untouched names on the third sheet. One meant nothing to me. The other was the mayor. "You see this? The goddamn mayor's part of-"

"Shh!" She put a hand over my mouth, flicked off the flashlight and crouched. I squatted beside her, though I didn't know what the emergency was. A few seconds later I heard footsteps. One of the Troops. He was carrying a flashlight and shone it around the stacks of paper, going through the motions. He didn't come near us and I soon heard a door flapping open and shut. We stood and stretched.

"Sharp ears," I complimented her.

"You get used to it," she said. "I've been here so often, and it's so quiet, I really think I could hear a pin drop."

I turned to the fourth and final page. This wasn't full. The names stretched a third of the way down. Three unlined names. One near the top that I didn't know. Ama's, a few lines above my own. And the third-some guy called Stephen Herf.

Ama gasped and clutched my wrist. She couldn't say anything. She didn't have to. The strength of her grip conveyed her shock quite adequately.

I looked at my name, just below Herf's, and traced the neat line through it with my left index finger. The ink was still fresh.

"Well," I said softly, smiling grimly in the gloom, "isn't that a bitch."

coya raimi

I was striding down the stairs, one hand clutching the file, the other clenched into a fist. My face was a pale, furious mask. Ama was rushing to keep up, tugging at my shirt, trying to slow me down.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Go home, Ama," I replied brusquely.

"What are you going to do?" she repeated, quickening her pace.

"Go home!" I snapped.

"No!" She swung in front of me, blocking my path. "Not until you tell me where you're going."

I clutched her arms and gazed into her eyes. They were fiery, uncertain, full of fear, love and pity. I wished we'd met another time, when I could have loved her. But we hadn't. We were here, now, and dead men can't afford love.

"It's over," I said. "You were a test-I failed. You were a trap-I'm caught. Go home."

"You're blaming me for this?" she said incredulously.

"I don't blame you for anything. You were just one of his pawns. He set things up so you'd draw me to the point where I had to make a choice, and I made the wrong one. My mistake. All mine. Now go."

She shook her head angrily. "Ever think that maybe you're the bait?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You think everything The Cardinal does revolves around you. Maybe you're not so important. Maybe I'm the one he's after, the one he wants to trap. Maybe you're the pawn."

I thought about it. "Perhaps. Your name appeared before mine on the file. But I've heard The Cardinal wax lyrical on the subject of women. I think it's safe to assume you're not that important to him. No woman is."

"What are you going to do?" she asked again.

I ran my fingers along the spine of the file. Her eyes grew round as she realized I meant to confront him. "Run!" she gasped. "Run away with me. It's the only way. We can call that driver friend of yours and-"

"No," I said. "Where would we go? Where couldn't he find us? And what sort of a life would it be, living in fear and doubt? Remember telling me you couldn't bear the present, not knowing about your past?"

"But we have each other now," she said. "We can build a future together."

"But we'd still obsess about the past."

"He'll kill you." She switched tack. "If you go down there, you're dead."

"Probably. But if that line through my name means what we know it does, I'm dead anyway. This way I go down fighting. I don't have to wait for Paucar Wami to sneak up behind me in the dark."

"But you can run," she hissed. "You don't have to fight. There's a chance."

"There was never a chance," I said sadly. "Not when we came here and openly defied The Cardinal. We came to find the truth. We made our choice. Now we've got to die with it. At least I do. Your name's untarnished. He doesn't want your head yet. Go home. Forget about me, The Cardinal, all this. Try and live a normal life. You might still be able to."

"I'm coming with you," she said. "I've come this far, I might as well-"

"No." My voice was as firm as my resolve. "This is my last stand. I'm going there tonight to face the end. I'll kill him or he'll kill me, and that'll be that. This is my battle, Ama. You might face your own later, but not tonight. Not here, now, with me."

"What will you say to him?" she asked.

"I don't know. I might not get a chance to say anything. If I do, I'll probably ask what this is about, what the list is, who we are, who we were. Maybe he'll tell me before I die."

"I'll ask one final time," she said, pulling away and glaring at me. She was shaking and there were tears in her eyes. "Come with me. Leave The Cardinal, your job, this city. Make a life with me somewhere else."

"There is nowhere else," I said slowly. I touched her one last time, her face, her nose, her lips. "He's everywhere, Ama." I tapped my head. "He's in here. I can't run from him any more than I could run from myself."

"Then fuck you, Capac," she sobbed, and fled, never looking back. I almost ran after her. My heart almost won the day and I opened my mouth to shout, "Stop, wait, I'm coming!"

Almost.

But I couldn't abandon the mystery. I was destined to face him, provoked by nature and instinct. Having come this far, there could be no going back. I let my mouth close and watched her flee, listening to the fading sounds of her feet.

After a time I resumed my descent, concentrating, not thinking of Ama or the fragility of life. Thinking about the woman and the other faces I could dredge up from my obscure past. There were lots of kids in school uniforms or gym clothes, running around, climbing ropes, playing ball. I had a whistle in my mouth and then I was kissing the woman and then I was at a funeral and then I was laughing and then Iwas…

Then I was there.

His secretary tried to stop me. She said he was asleep and could never be disturbed when sleeping. I pushed past her. She tried to sidetrack me but I shoved her to the floor. She scrabbled to the intercom to warn The Cardinal or summon the Troops. I didn't care. It was too late in the day to worry about secrecy.