together.
A mother, a father and a son had gone into the shop. A mother, a father and a son walked out of it. As they left, Scarlett glanced up and noticed a TV camera in the passageway trained down on them and wondered if there was anybody watching and, if so, whether they could possibly have seen anything that might have aroused their suspicions. But for the first time, she was feeling confident. She was no longer on her own. She was part of a family now. She would be joining hundreds or even thousands of tourists returning to the Jade Emperor. Even the Old Ones with all their agents would be unable to spot her.
The family left Harbour City through a set of huge glass doors that brought them straight out onto Ocean Terminal. And there was the ship, tied to the quay by ropes as thick as trees. The Jade Emperor was massive, with at least a dozen decks, each one laid out on top of the other with two smoking funnels at the very top. The lower part of the ship was punctuated by a long line of tiny-looking portholes, but further up there were full-sized sliding windows that probably opened onto state rooms for the multi-millionaires on board. The Jade Emperor was entirely white, apart from the funnels which were bright green. Crew members, also in spotless white, were hurrying along the corridors, mopping the decks and polishing the brass railings as if it were vital for the ship to look its best before it was allowed to leave.
Scarlett examined her surroundings. The ship was on her left, blocking out the view over to Hong Kong, with a single gangplank, slanting down at its centre. On the right, running the full length of the quay, was a two-storey building lined with flags. This was the back of Harbour City, the shopping centre she had just visited. Between them was a strip of concrete about ten metres across, which they would all have to walk along if they wanted to go on board.
The way was blocked by a series of metal fences that forced passengers to snake round to a control point where half a dozen men in uniforms were checking passports and embarkation slips. The sun was beginning to set now, and although it still sparkled on the water and glinted off the ship’s railings, the actual walkway was in shadow. So this was it. Five minutes and maybe fifty paces separated Scarlett from freedom. Once she was on board the Jade Emperor, it would be over. Matt was waiting for her. Help had finally arrived. She would set sail and she would never see Hong Kong again.
The woman acting as Scarlett’s mother, Mrs Soong, said something and reached out for her hand. Scarlett took it and they began to walk towards the barrier. Nobody stopped them. Nobody even seemed to glance their way. They passed a restaurant with floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows and tables and gas umbrellas outside. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner so there was hardly anyone there, but as they continued forward Scarlett noticed a man with grey hair and glasses, sipping a glass of beer. He was partly obscured by the window but there was something familiar about him, the way he sat, even the way he held his glass. She stopped dead.
It was Paul Adams.
Maybe if she hadn’t stopped so abruptly, he wouldn’t have noticed her. But now he looked up and stared at her. Even then he might not have recognized her. But they had made eye contact. That was what did it. Even with the spectacles and the contact lenses, the strange clothes and the short hair, the two of them had made the link.
And Scarlett was glad to see him. For the past week she had been worrying about him, wondering if he was dead or alive. She had hated the thought of skulking out of Hong Kong without letting him know and if there had been any way to warn him what was happening, she would have done so. This was her opportunity. She couldn’t just leave him behind.
A second later, he burst out of the restaurant and onto the quay. He still couldn’t decide if it was really her. The disguise was that good. But then she smiled at him and he came over to her, his face a mixture of bafflement and relief.
“Scarly… Is that you?”
Scarlett felt Mrs Soong stiffen beside her. Mr Soong stopped, his face filled with alarm. None of the guards at the passport control had noticed them. Tourists were streaming past on both sides, taking out their documents as they approached the fence. Scarlett knew she would have to be quick. She was risking everything even by talking to him but she didn’t care. She felt a huge sense of relief. Her father was alive.
“Scarly…?” Paul Adams spoke her name again, peering at her, trying to see through the disguise.
“Dad…” Scarlett whispered. “We can’t talk. You have to leave Hong Kong. We’re in terrible…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
To her horror, Paul Adams grabbed hold of her, dragging her hand up as if to show her off. His face was flushed with excitement – and something else. He looked demented. There was a sort of terror in his eyes. He was like a man who had just committed murder.
“It’s her!” he shouted. “I’ve got her! She’s here!”
“No, Dad…”
But it was already too late. The uniformed policemen had heard. They were already heading towards them. The tourists had stopped moving and in an instant Scarlett saw that half of them weren’t tourists at all. They began to close in, their faces blank, their eyes shining with triumph. More people appeared, pouring out of the shopping centre. Matted hair. Dead, white skin. Their mouths hanging open. Dozens of them. And the flies. They burst into the air like a dark geyser and spread out, swarming overhead.
“Dad… what have you done?”
He clung onto her, one hand on her wrist, the other around her neck, strangling her. Mr and Mrs Soong stood there, paralysed, then tried to run. The woman was the first to be brought down. One of the tourists grabbed her. A few seconds earlier he had looked like a grandfather, an Englishman enjoying his retirement. But the mask had slipped. He was grinning and his eyes were ablaze. He was holding her with terrible strength, his hooked fingers gouging into her face, forcing her down to her knees. Then they were all onto her. Mrs Soong disappeared in a crowd that was moving now like a single creature. Mr Soong had taken out a gun. He pointed it at one of the approaching policemen and fired. The bullet hit the policeman in the face, tearing a huge hole in his cheek, but he didn’t even flinch. He kept on coming. Mr Soong fired a second time, this time straight into the man’s chest. Blood spouted but still the policeman came. Mr Soong was trapped. He had nowhere to run. Scarlett saw him push the barrel of the gun into his own mouth. She closed her eyes a moment before he fired.
It was easy to tell who were the real tourists now. They were screaming, in hysterics, dropping their new purchases and scattering across the quay, unsure what was going on, not wanting to be part of it. A woman in a fur coat slipped and fell. She was immediately trampled underfoot by the rest of the crowd, trying to get past. Two men were knocked over the side into the narrow space between the ship and the quay. Scarlett heard them hit the water and doubted that either of them would ever climb out again.
Her father was still holding her. She couldn’t believe what he had done. He had deliberately told them she was there. He had been waiting for her all along. And she had helped him. There had been one final trap and she had fallen into it.
“I’m sorry, Scarly,” he was saying. “I had to do it. It was the only way. They’ve promised that they won’t hurt you, and my reward, the reward for both of us – we’re going to be rich! You have no idea how much power they have. And we’re going to be part of it… their new world.”
Of course he had been in it all along. He worked for Nightrise. He had invited her here, made her leave school early with no explanation. He had been skulking somewhere nearby, leaving her in their clutches. And finally he had been positioned here, just in case she tried to get onto the ship…
Scarlett thought of all the people who had tried to help her, all the people who had died because of her. Mr and Mrs Soong had spent just a few minutes with her but it had been enough. She had killed them.
She listened to this pathetic man – he was still jabbering at her – and she spat in his face.
Then someone grabbed her from behind. It was Karl. She didn’t know where he had come from, but the chauffeur was unbelievably strong. He lifted her into the air, then dashed her down. Her head hit the concrete so hard that she thought her skull must have cracked. A bolt of sheer pain ripped across her vision.
In the final moments of consciousness, she saw a whole series of images, flickering across her vision like an out-of-control slide show. There was Matt, the boy she had never met in the real world, on his way to Macau. There were the other three – Scott, Jamie and Pedro – gazing at her helplessly. There was the beach where she had found herself night after night. And there, once again, was the neon sign with a symbol that was shaped like a triangle and two words:
