Afterworlds: The 13th Horseman. Barry Hutchison
Читать онлайн книгу.
floating. Nor was it a ball. A tangled mound of wreckage lay on the floor, smouldering gently. War gave it a cautious poke with the tip of his sword.
“What... what was that thing?” Drake asked, using the wall to pull himself to his feet.
War’s eyes narrowed. “Techno-magic mumbo jumbo,” he muttered.
“What, like—?”
“Exactly like that,” War nodded. He looked along the corridor in both directions. “And exactly like them.”
Drake made a noise that was embarrassingly like a whimper. Two more floating balls blocked each end of the corridor. Their blades spun to a high-pitched hum as they began to hover closer.
“Hold on,” War commanded, scooping Drake up and depositing him on his back. Drake caught hold of the giant’s armoured shoulders and clung on for dear life. “We’re leaving.”
“How?” Drake asked, his gaze flitting between the two spinning spheres. “There’s no way out.”
War’s muscles tensed. He sprang towards the corridor wall, raising a leg. Plaster and brick exploded outwards as he kicked. “Aye, there is,” he replied. The whine from the floating balls increased in pitch as they raced towards the hole in the wall. “Right then, sunshine,” War warned, “whatever you do, don’t let go.”
DRAKE DUCKED, KEEPING his head behind War’s as they crashed through the hole in the wall and out into the car park. War took two big paces, then jumped, clearing a waist-high wall with ease. The ground quaked when he touched down on the other side, and Drake had to kick frantically until he found a foothold on the giant’s back.
War scanned the car park, his eyes flitting from vehicle to vehicle. Behind them, the floating spheres came in single file through the gap. Drake craned his neck to see them. They were back to moving slowly, creeping cautiously across the tarmac, weaving between the parked cars. Their blades spun, but they were hanging back, as if aware of the danger War posed.
“They’re getting closer,” Drake warned. “Shouldn’t we be running? What are you doing?”
“Trying to remember where I parked,” War muttered. His gaze swept across the rows of vehicles.
“What? You mean... you’ve got a car?”
War shrugged. The sharp movement almost made Drake lose his grip. “Not exactly,” he said. He ran up the bonnet of the closest car and thudded on to the roof. The metal dented where his feet slammed down, and an alarm began to wail in complaint.
The school minibus was parked right next to the car. War raised his arms and placed his palms flat against the minibus roof. With a grunt of effort, he pulled them both up on to it.
“Aha!” he said, looking down. “There you are.”
Drake heaved himself high enough to look over War’s shoulder. A horse stood on the other side of the minibus. But a horse like none Drake had ever seen.
It was bigger than a normal horse, but that was only to be expected. War, after all, was bigger than a normal man. Much, much bigger.
The horse’s skin was a bright, brilliant red, that shone like a ruby in the mid-morning sun. Its mane and tail were shades of orange and yellow. They danced like fire when the horse turned towards the minibus roof.
A worn leather saddle was slung across the horse’s wide expanse of back. War leaped from the roof and landed expertly astride the saddle. The horse gave a loud snort, but otherwise didn’t react to the sudden weight on its back. The spheres did react, though. They swooshed forward, suddenly appearing at either end of the minibus, their blades spinning into overdrive.
“Yah!” War roared, giving the horse’s reins a flick. It sprang into action, clearing the next parked car from a standing start. The car behind it wasn’t so lucky. Its roof caved in, shattering the windows and spraying glass in all directions.
The impact was too much for Drake. His grip slipped, and he found himself sliding down War’s back. War shifted his weight forward, making room for Drake to land on the saddle.
“I told you not to let go,” War said.
“Well... sorry.”
“Don’t do it again.”
War’s shoulder armour was held on by two thick leather straps. Drake caught hold of them just as the horse bounded forward again. It cleared the whole row of cars this time, landing on the road. The road surface cracked beneath its hooves, but there was no stopping it now. With another leap it cleared the low wall that surrounded the car park, and they were out on the open road, leaving the school behind.
Another alarm squealed. Drake looked back to see the spheres slicing through the air after them, their blades tearing through everything in their path. Four cars, five, fell apart like broken toys. The wall became bricks, the bricks became dust, and the balls of death were after them once again.
The horse galloped along the road, Drake’s teeth rattling in his head with each thunderous footstep. The ground whizzed by, a speeding blur of grey. Up ahead, a car’s rear lights flashed red as its brakes began to squeal. Drake caught a glimpse of the driver’s wide eyes in the rear-view mirror, before the horse was leaping again, soaring over the car then resuming its run on the other side.
“That... that was incredible,” Drake said.
“That? That was nothing,” War told him. His beard was being blown backwards over his shoulder. Drake had to lean to the left to avoid swallowing the thing. As he shifted in the saddle, he saw the traffic lights looming ahead. They were on red. A steady stream of traffic flowed across the street just beyond them. War flicked the reins. “Watch this!”
Drake could see the faces of every passenger on the bus. They wore matching expressions of amazement as they watched the horse hurl itself into the sky. Its hooves skitted across the flat metal roof, showering the street with sparks. And then it was plunging back towards the ground, and Drake could feel his stomach being tossed up somewhere around his ears. The landing bounced him out of the saddle. He opened his mouth to scream, before War’s hand wrapped round his ankle and pulled him back down.
“Thanks,” he croaked.
“No bother.”
The spheres sliced through the moving traffic, their blades puncturing the tyres and chewing the metal of every vehicle they passed. Horns blared, people screamed, more alarms joined in the chorus, but it was all just background noise to the clattering of the horse’s hooves.
Drake turned in the saddle. “They’re still coming!” he cried, though his voice was almost lost to the wind.
War nodded. “Aye.”
“What do we do?”
A hesitation. “Can you ride?”
“What... you mean ride a horse?”
“Naw, a bike,” War spat. “Aye, a horse.”
Drake shook his head. “No.”
“Well, that’s just bloody marvellous,” War muttered. “A horseman that cannae ride a horse.”
“What? I can’t hear you, it’s too noisy!”
“Doesn’t matter,” War said more loudly. “Can you hold a rope?”
Brakes screeched behind them, followed by the crunch of metal colliding with other metal.
“What kind of question’s that? Of course I can hold a rope.”
War’s hand reached back over his shoulder and plucked the boy from the saddle. Drake barely had time to realise