How to Stop the End of the World by Tom Mitchell

Author:Tom Mitchell [Mitchell, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2024-01-31T17:00:00+00:00

It was a nightmare.

Admittedly not the most original thought, but it was definitely the first Col had on stepping into the crypt. The shadows, the stone, the hooded figures. He willed himself awake, but it didn’t work. Why? He was already awake, and this was his new reality. Also, it was proper spooky.

The display cases had been pushed back behind the darkest of dark cloth that hung like tapestries down the brick walls. Well, all the cases but one. Conyers’ sword remained on display, the protective glass removed, the weapon lying on its crimson velvet. All Col needed to do was take a few steps and touch it. Its presence, its obviousness, though, didn’t stop it from looking weirdly holographic. Was it the shimmer of the silver blade? The winking red, blue and yellow of the gemstones set in its handle? Or was it just that Col hadn’t eaten a decent breakfast?

It could have been the light. The electrics were off. Instead eight thick candles sat in large metallic bowls, positioned on top of what looked to be broken stone pillars, which hadn’t been there yesterday, in lines of four that ran parallel to the long sides of the sword’s case at coffee-table height. The bowls amplified both the light and the candles’ flickering, sending nervous shadows racing across the dark walls.

It felt like a vampire’s living room. And I don’t mean that in a positive way.

At the other end of the sword, facing its tip, stood Draco and Karen. Karen, like her boss, wore a hooded robe. Gone was the eccentric, mud-stained woman of earlier. Now she appeared wraithlike, threatening.

‘I want to go home,’ said Lucy, which was exactly what Col was thinking. ‘I’ve reached my limit. This is too weird.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Draco. ‘We’ll soon be done. And then you can have all the ice cream you want.’

You’d have hardly noticed the flicker in the corner of her eye, the spasm of her muscles, an algorithm inside going wrong.

‘I didn’t like the ice cream,’ said Lucy. ‘It tasted … strange.’

Col nodded, gulping down his fear. ‘It did a bit,’ he said. ‘To be honest, no offence.’

Even with her hood up, Draco’s hair could still be seen, those fiery strands that poked out glowing in the gloom. If Col’s mum had been here, she’d definitely have asked what conditioner she used.

The sound of the door closing echoed down the stairs. With it came the failure of Stones’s plan. There was no way now he’d be able to toss down a smoke grenade. And, standing in the crypt, Col wasn’t entirely sure that it would have worked anyway. Presumably someone could have just picked it up and thrown it back. They don’t instantly fill the space with smoke. The SAS don’t buy their grenades from Amazon.

Ross emerged from the spiral staircase into the crypt. He waited behind Lucy and Col, standing guard at the exit, arms tightly folded across his thick chest. As they turned to look, he shrugged.

‘What?’ he said.

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