Darren Shan - Procession of the dead

Wait. I was missing something. I got off the train and left the station, but there was a pause in there, somewhere, which I was overlooking. I hadn't come straight out. I'd stopped to… hand over my ticket. But there was no guard at the gate, so I put it aside to show my children one day. I'd kept the fucking ticket! The stations of destination and departure would be on it. If I still had it, it would tell me where I came from.

But what had I done with it? I thought back. I'd pocketed the stub and forgotten about it. Found it later, when I went to do my first load of laundry. I rescued it in the nick of time and stuck it… where? My wallet? No. I used my wallet daily and knew I'd pull out the ticket and lose it sooner or later. I wanted to keep it safe, so I put it… in the money belt I bought a week after I arrived! And I kept the money belt at Uncle Theo's. I hadn't brought it with me the night of his murder and had never gone back to retrieve it. Hadn't even thought of it in the months since. It contained nothing of import, just some notes, a couple of photos, loose change. And the ticket.

I didn't know what had happened to the house in the wake of the shooting. If new tenants had moved in-and they probably had-I was done for. It was a long shot, but I didn't have much choice. It was Theo's or bust.

How was I going to get there? I checked my watch. Eleven minutes left. Theo's house was miles away. Walking was out of the question. A cab? Sure, but how was I to know the radio wouldn't blurt out a description of me halfway there? I needed Nathanael Mead again.

I hurried to the nearest pay phone (not daring to use my cell) and called. He was at home. He listened carefully while I gave him the barest description of my predicament. He was reluctant this time. This was too hot for him. He'd be glad to help but a risk was one thing, suicide another. In the end, I resorted to bribery and the lure of cash swung him my way. "Where will I pick you up?" he asked.

I was about to tell him when I stopped. The Cardinal might have seen me with Mead before. Maybe he'd guess that I'd go to him again. Hell, the cabbie's phone might even be tapped. Unlikely, but I didn't want to take the chance. "Nathanael, will you go to a pay phone and call the following number?"

I fidgeted and rubbed my hands while I waited. I was sore from the night's fight and it hurt when I moved, but I didn't want to stay still-I might stiffen and never move again.

By the time Nathanael called, I'd thought the situation through and had a clearer plan in mind. It was too risky for him to come. I asked if he knew anyone he could trust, someone he could send in his place. "I do," he said, "but I wouldn't like them getting involved in this shit."

"I'll pay them the same as I'm paying you."

"Damn." He considered it a moment longer. I wanted to rush him but kept quiet and let him reach a decision in his own time. "OK, I'll do it. If the person agrees, where do you want to meet?" I gave him the address of a nearby street. "You'll have the money with you?" I assured him I would, then hung up and went to get the cash.

There were no banks open at that time, but I was close to an all-night casino. The Cardinal ran most of the casinos in the city and it wasn't unusual for his higher-level personnel to draw funds from them if a lot of cash was required in the middle of the night.

Three minutes of grace were left, according to my watch, when I hurried through the lobby to the cashiers' desk. I slid up to the counter, handed over my card and prayed The Cardinal hadn't canceled it yet or put out word that I was persona non grata. He hadn't. I withdrew enough to pay off Nathanael and his friend, buy some new clothes and get me to wherever it was I needed to go.

The car was a few minutes late. When it pulled up to the curb, I opened the rear door and leaped in. The driver took off before I could close the door. "Hi, I'm-," I began, then stopped. A woman was sitting behind the wheel. She saw my confusion and smiled.

"We can drive," she said softly. "Despite what many men think."

"I'm sorry. Of course you can. I just wasn't expecting…"

"No problem. You got the money?" I counted off notes and passed them over. She pocketed the stash and grunted. "Margaret Stravinki's the name."

"Capac Raimi."

"I kind of guessed that," she laughed. "Where to?"

I gave her directions, sat back and tried to lay low. My face was aching, as were my ribs, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable bending I had to straighten up. I leaned forward and examined my face in the front mirror. I was a mess. My nose was destroyed, my eyes red, my cheeks purple with bruises. Long scratches raked the flesh in several places. One side of my neck was bloody from my savaged ear. My lips were torn and puffy. I hadn't lost any teeth, but that was about the only positive aspect. I rolled my jaw gently from side to side, flexed my arms and legs. I'd be tender for weeks but I'd live. Unless one of the ribs had punctured something and I was bleeding internally.

I checked my watch. The pursuit should be hitting full flight about now. The posses would gather, heed their instructions and the hunt would be on. I had to hope they'd overlook Theo's house in all the excitement.

We got there without complication. The lights were off but virtually all the houses were dark this time of night. There could be a circus troupe in residence for all I could tell. "You'll wait for me?" I asked Margaret. She'd parked several houses away and killed the engine.

"Well, I was gonna do a bit of fishing, but since you asked so nice…"

"Thanks. If there's any sign of trouble, split."

"Don't worry," she said. "I will."

The backyard was deserted and the door was locked. There was a loose stone nearby which Theo had always left a key under. I couldn't see in the dark, so I had to get down on my knees and scrabble around. When I found the stone I nudged it aside and explored with my fingers. I hit metal after a couple of seconds and retrieved it quickly. The key was caked in mud. I wiped it on my shirt, picked off the worst dirt with my nails and tried the lock. It opened without a problem and I was soon standing in the familiar kitchen, remembering happier, simpler days.

I crept through the house. I knew my way around, even after all these months, and could navigate with my eyes shut. But if people were living here, they would have made changes-new tables, stands, statues. I had to be careful.

I went up the stairs slowly, wincing at every creak. The door to Theo's old room was half open. I tiptoed over and peeped in. There was somebody on the bed, under the covers! I tensed and tried melting back into the shadows. Then, as my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I smiled. It was only the sheets, crumpled on the bed. Nobody was here.

I crossed the landing to my old room. I moved quickly, feeling safe for the first time. I'd kept the money belt under the mattress. Lifting it a few inches, I groped for the pouch. Nothing. My hand crept in further, reaching deeper, describing a widening circle. It wasn't there. Someone had found it and… There! My fingers closed over the belt and withdrew. I had it. Everything would be fine now.

I worked on the zipper. It was stiff and I had to struggle. I didn't want to jerk too hard and break it. As I was trying to tease it open, a noise outside attracted my attention. A car had pulled up.

I returned to Theo's room, which had a better view of the front. The car was parked across the street. Two men emerged while the driver stayed seated. It was dark and I couldn't see very well but I was almost certain one of them was Vincent Carell, Tasso's pet goon.

They crossed the road, unbuttoning their jackets, reaching for guns. I searched the room for a weapon. I'd left my knife with Ama because I couldn't have snuck it through the doors of Party Central. I had meant to get it back later but it had slipped my mind.