Darren Shan - Procession of the dead

"Never," she hissed. "I'll follow you. I know where you'll be and who you'll be with. I'll send the police after you, drag you back and make you pay." She was telling me too much. The Cardinal could have warned her of the need to play her cards close to her chest. But I had her husband's face. She hated me but she didn't think I posed a threat.

I nodded resignedly and looked down into the grave at the grinning skull. "Dee," I said dully in answer to an earlier question, "Ihave."

Her face crinkled. "Have what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Killed," I said.

Then I swung the blade of the shovel against the side of her head.

She reeled away from me, stunned, blood coursing from the cut to her scalp. I followed quickly and struck her again, full in the face, feeling bones crush. This time she collapsed. She tried to crawl away but I pinned her down and rolled her over onto her back.

She stared at me through disjointed eyes as I straddled her body and raised the shovel high. "Martin…," she croaked, shaking her head, begging me not to strike. "Martin… please…"

"No," I said. "Not Martin. Capac."

And I drove the point of the shovel through her eyes and deep into her brain.

When she stopped spasming, I bundled her body into the grave, on top of her dead partner. They wouldn't both fit inside the coffin so I left it open. Working as fast as I could, I shoveled the earth back in, pausing only once to scoop up a sliver of brain and chuck it down for the maggots.

When all was done and I'd patted the earth flat, I stood back and studied the freshly dug grave. It would be obvious in daylight that it had been interfered with. But it wasn't conspicuous and it should be a few days before the police discovered evidence of the dark deed. By that stage I'd be long gone.

I hopped the wall easily this time and strode away briskly, tossing the shovels into a dark ditch. I felt no remorse, no sense of panic, anxiety or doubt. I'd done what I had to. That was all.

A few weeks earlier-even a few days-I would have been plagued by guilt. I'd have been thinking of my code of honor, my assertion that I'd never murder an innocent. I used to think I was a clean man in a dirty business. Now I knew better.

A man who might once have been Martin Robinson entered that dank home of the dead, but the one who left was definitely Capac Raimi. I no longer had any doubts about my identity. I was a killer, a monster, a man who could do anything and would. I was an Ayuamarcan, a cursed soul in league with The Cardinal. I'd thought that, beneath it all, in spite of what I did, I was good. But in truth I was as evil as they came, as coldhearted as The Cardinal, Paucar Wami or any other you might care to name. All that was left was to find out how I came to be such a damned, twisted mockery of a man.

There was only one place that question could be answered. So, after I'd visited the cottage one last time and cleaned up, I returned to the train station, never once pausing to worry about the men who might be waiting for me. The way I saw it, it would be their bad luck if our paths crossed. I was going home to the city, to The Cardinal. It would be the death of me, I was sure, but before he killed me, he'd talk. I'd make him. And pity anyone who got in my way or tried to stop me. No ordinary mortal could stand against a soulless monster like Capac Raimi.

ayuamarca

I had to wait almost forty minutes for a train. I passed some of that by calling Ama. "Capac!" she squealed. "It's really you? God, when I didn't hear from you… Where are you? What happened with-"

"Ama," I interrupted, "listen carefully. Get out of the city and never return. Understand?"

"OK," she agreed instantly. "Where will we meet?"

"We won't," I told her. "We're through. We can never see each other again."

She laughed uneasily. "Quit fooling, Capac."

"You remember what I told you? That I'd never harm an innocent?"

"I remember," she said quietly.

"I lied. I lied to you and to myself. I'm a killer, Ama, as ruthless and bloody-minded as the worst of them."

"That's not true," she said. "I know you, Capac. You have principles. You-"

"I killed a woman this morning." I stopped her mid-flow. "She was a widow, harmless, innocent. She got in my way and I murdered her, brutally and clinically. Caved her head in with a spade and dumped her in an open grave. Get out, Ama. It's not just The Cardinal you have to worry about anymore. Now there's me."

"Capac," she sobbed, "you don't know what you're-"

I hung up. Leaned my head against the wall of the booth and sighed. That had been hard. All the time we were talking, I wanted to tell her I loved her and arrange a final rendezvous, one last passionate coupling. But I couldn't allow myself that luxury. Because when the lovemaking was over, maybe Ama wouldn't want to let me go. Maybe she'd cling to me and beg me to stay. Perhaps she'd try forcing me. If she did…

Could I raise a hand in anger against Ama? I doubted it. But I wasn't sure. That's why I had to sever all connections with her. I didn't know myself anymore, or what I was capable of.

The train was almost empty when I boarded but it filled as we chugged closer to the city, commuters from nearby towns dragging themselves in for another day's hard toil. It was a long ride. Plenty of time for silent deliberation.

What was I? A replica, a zombie, a ghost, the real Martin Robinson? Did I come from a pod, a lab or beyond the grave? Was I on my way back to reality or was this all a dream? Had killing Dee merely been my warped mind's way of separating me from reality forever?

I shut my eyes and let the crazy thoughts slip from my mind. It didn't matter. I'd be in the city soon, where all answers-or death-would come. Thinking was redundant. I let myself relax and nabbed a few hours' sleep.

Nobody was waiting for me at the station. I stood on the platform and breathed the fumes of this orifice of the city, much as I had a year ago. But when I'd come before, it had been to start a new life. Now I was here to finish one.

A hand fell on my shoulder. With a sense of destiny I turned to face my captor, only to find-surprising me once again-the ever-grinning Paucar Wami. "I wasn't expecting you for some time yet," he said.

"What are you doing here?" I frowned. "You told me you were getting out."

He shrugged. "I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"We will discuss it on the way," he said, sliding in front of me and heading for the nearest exit. "The Cardinal has revoked the call for your head, but that might only be a way of snaring you. I don't think anyone is watching but who can say for sure. There could be a dozen guns trained on us right now."

It was a convincing argument. I followed him quickly, reserving my questions. His scooter was parked outside. He didn't ask where I wanted to go, just hopped on and kicked it into life as I climbed on behind.

"I take it The Cardinal didn't send you to fetch me," I said as we cut through the traffic around the station.

"Hardly," Wami snorted. "I killed one of his men. He doesn't take lightly to his pawns turning on one another without permission."

"Then how did you know I was coming?"

"Our blind friends of course. They told me you'd return. They didn't know the exact day but they knew the place. They said it would be worth my while staying to ensure your safe passage through the city." He turned down an alley. "Damned if I know how they found me."

"Why didn't you ask them?"

"I didn't speak with them directly. They sent a couple of messengers who knew nothing. I tortured both of them, to be positive, but neither could tell me anything."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as we turned down another narrow alley.

"Don't ask stupid questions," he grunted.

Wami dropped me at the front door of Party Central. Reaching inside his jacket, he handed me a tiny transmitter. "Wear this. I want to hear what he says. I haven't gone to all this trouble only to be excluded from the final revelations."