Them or Us by David Moody

Author:David Moody [Moody, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 031253583X
Publisher: Griffin
Published: 2011-10-31T23:00:00+00:00

24

“DANNY?” HE SAYS, HIS voice trembling with uncertainty and surprise. “Danny McCoyne, is that really you?”

“Joseph?”

Is it him, or have I finally lost my mind? Am I so sick I’ve started hallucinating now? His voice is unmistakable, but he looks literally half the man he used to be. His face, broad and beaming when he held me captive in the convent, is now distressingly gaunt. His cheeks are sunken and hollow, the whites of his eyes as yellow as his teeth. He wears a grubby woolen sweater that hangs off him like it’s several sizes too big.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were dead,” I answer, slumping back against the wall in disbelief. This can’t be happening. I feel like I’m about to pass out, my hands and feet suddenly numb and heavy, fingertips tingling, eyes not focusing properly … I must be hallucinating.

“You two know each other?” Sutton asks, chasing after me, sounding as shocked as I am. Mallon nods his head vigorously and stares at me, his rasping breathing sounding uncomfortably erratic. He’s in worse shape than me. He grabs my hand and shakes it furiously, grinning like a madman.

“Did you know about this?” I ask Sutton. I look straight at him, demanding an explanation, but he doesn’t answer. I can’t tell whether he’s genuinely shocked or if he orchestrated this whole situation just to try to keep me down here.

“I had no idea…”

“What happened to you, Danny?” Mallon says as he looks me up and down. “You look like shit, man.” I don’t have a chance to respond before he speaks again, turning to talk to Sutton this time. “Danny was one of the ones I told you about, back in the city with Sahota.”

“But how did you…?”

I’m unable to finish my question, not even sure what it is I’m trying to ask. He might look like a shadow of the man he was, but Mallon still manages to seem infinitely more composed than I feel. He’s acting like he’s found a long-lost friend, not someone he kept locked in a cell for days on end, chained to a piss-soaked bed—someone who wanted to kill him. I focus on that thought for a second. There’s a part of me that still thinks I should do it.

“Back at the convent,” he begins, in that instantly familiar, rich accent, “there was a lot of bullshit flying about.” He looks at Sutton. “I told you about Sahota … the guy pulling the strings there? I figured out what he was, what he was all about, and how he was training up people like Danny here for some crazy last crusade. I knew he was bad news, but I didn’t let on. I acted dumb and played along with it ’cause I didn’t have any choice—I knew he’d kill me if I stepped out of line. He gave me food and he kept me safe from all the chaos outside, so I put up with it, but I knew it wouldn’t last, and I was ready.

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