Dancing Jax by Robin Jarvis

Author:Robin Jarvis [Robin Jarvis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

The song continued to blare, distorting as the volume swelled.

“I can’t bear it,” Estelle wept as the unnatural gale whipped Eun-mi’s raven hair about her head. “You have no idea of the torment. Years and years and years of it – and him always there.”

Spencer wasn’t sure if she meant Austerly Fellows or Al Bowlly’s singing. The X-rays flared again and Gerald’s skeleton pulled away from her. There was nothing more to discover here and what they had learned made him feel sick.

Then, above the grille, where the electric sparks crackled more fiercely than ever, they saw a shape forming in the thick, twisting funnel of smoke. At first it was just a vague swirl of curdling vapour and shadow, shot with flames from below, but every passing instant refined and defined it. Something was coming through.

Aghast, they watched as the floating figure took on solid form and a pair of bowed legs and long, muscular arms stretched and flexed from the fumes. The deformed ridge of a humped back reared above a large, hideous head and the yellow smoke blew round a curved chin and hooked nose.

“A Punchinello!” Spencer cried.

“Time to go!” Gerald yelled.

Running on to the landing, Spencer made to slam the door shut behind them, but Gerald stopped him.

“Not yet,” he instructed. “You two, head back downstairs and get out of here.”

“What are you going to do? That thing in there will kill you on sight. You don’t know what they’re like!”

A loud, gargling squawk told them the Punchinello was almost fully corporeal and was now breathing the atmosphere of this world.

“Shoot it!” Spencer urged.

“I’ll do better than that,” Gerald answered, stooping to pick up the satchel of grenades. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m not leaving you, even for a minute!” Spencer swore. “We get out of here together or not at all.”

Gerald wouldn’t listen this time. He pushed the loaded rifle into the boy’s hands and ordered him to go.

“Come on!” Estelle pleaded, pulling on Spencer’s arm. “Hurry!”

“Don’t you do anything stupid and be a hero,” Spencer warned him. “You come right after us, OK?”

“I’ll head you off at the pass!” Gerald promised. “Now hightail it out of here, Sundance!”

Spencer managed a feeble smile. Then he and Estelle raced along the landing.

Gerald Benning looked back into the octagonal room, where the consoles were flashing and the hum had ramped up to a piercing electronic squeal. The thermionic valves in each unit were glowing fiercely and the song was thundering too loudly to be recognisable as music any more. It was a screeching, deafening din and the Lalique sconces rattled in their fittings.

Snarling, and baring its mottled teeth, the grotesque and naked Punchinello stepped out from the smoke. The red-rimmed eyes swivelled in their sockets and glared over at the doorway where the old man stood. Licking its scabrous lips, it came swaggering between the consoles.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Gerald’s trembling fingers closed round one of the grenades. Like most North Korean weapons, they were out-of-date leftovers from a lost or abandoned war.

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