Matt was amazed by the extent of her power. He could feel it flowing out of her. She was a girl and she was fifteen years old. But she could destroy the entire world.
Another building fell behind them, crumbling in on itself as if it had simply lost the will to live. Bricks showered down, slamming into the pavement, but not near them. The road continued straight ahead. They could see the park. Most of the trees had been uprooted and turned into flying battering rams. The few that remained were bending over, kissing the ground. The Tai Shan Temple was on the other side. Matt was surprised that it was still standing, but perhaps the wall that surrounded it had protected it from the worst of the weather.
Lohan pointed. Scarlett nodded. There was no need for any of them to speak. They had made it. They had crossed Hong Kong in the middle of a Signal Ten typhoon and they had survived.
Moving faster now, they crossed what was left of the park and went in.
The chairman of the Nightrise Corporation was watching the final destruction of his necropolis. He was back in his office on the sixty-sixth floor of The Nail and he could feel the whole building trembling as it was buffeted again and again by the storm. Every now and then there was a grinding sound followed by an explosion of breaking glass as another window burst out of its frame. The lights had long ago flickered and gone out. There was no power in the office. Nor were there any people. The staff had all evacuated, fighting and clawing their way down sixty-six flights of stairs. Some of them might have made it to the basement and would be huddled there now, but he suspected that many more of them would have been killed on the way down – pushed down the stairs or trampled in the general panic. The chairman certainly had no intention of joining them. He was safe here. The Nail could stand up to anything. And it was a spectacular view.
It did trouble him that his plans had somehow gone wrong. The city had been meant to die. That had been the whole idea. But not like this. Indeed, the typhoon might well end up saving many more people than it actually killed because there had been a side-effect. The poisonous gases put in place by the Old Ones had been dispersed. The pollution had been swept away. When the storm finally eased off, the people would be able to breathe again.
He didn’t know what had happened at Victoria Prison. All the telephone lines were down and even his mobile didn’t work. The whole network must have collapsed. But this devastation couldn’t be a coincidence. The girl must have brought it. She was able to predict the weather so at the very least she must have known it was coming. He had put the boy in with her to taunt her, to show her how completely defeated she had been. Perhaps, all in all, it had been a mistake.
He was holding a bottle of Cognac. It had a price tag that made it one of the most expensive in the world and it had always amused him that there were people dying in some countries because they had no water while he could afford to spend five thousand dollars on a drink he didn’t even enjoy. Over the years, most of the chairman’s taste buds had died. Nothing he ate or drank had any flavour. If he was killed now, it would hardly matter. Most of him was dead anyway.
But he wasn’t going to die. Even if Matt and Scarlett had escaped, there was nowhere for them to go. The Tai Shan Temple was protected. They wouldn’t be able to reach the door. And soon the typhoon would have passed. He would begin the search through the wreckage immediately, turning it over brick by brick, and next time he would deal with them at once.
He noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was a speck in the window. At first he thought it was a bird. No. It was extraordinary. As the chairman watched, it grew larger and larger. It was heading towards him.
It was a ship.
Not a huge ship. A wooden sampan, one of the Chinese sailing boats that were kept moored up in the harbour, to be photographed by tourists. The wind had grabbed it and torn it free. Even as the chairman watched, it was getting closer, rapidly filling up the window frame. He stood there, transfixed by the sight. He thought about running. Perhaps he could still make it to safety. But what was the point? How could he escape something that had been predicted so many years ago?
He would die in an accident that involved a ship.
He died now.
The sampan was thrown at The Nail as if it were a paper dart that had been deliberately aimed. It smashed through the window on the sixty-sixth floor and into the man who stood behind it. At the same time, the wind howled in, scooping up the contents of the room and throwing them out, the files and papers rattling with a sound that was very like applause. The broken body of the chairman went with them, spun once in the air, then plunged down to the pavement below.
Bloodstains on the carpet. A bottle of Cognac with its contents gurgling out. A scattering of broken glass. In the end, that was all that was left.
There had been a bloody battle inside the Tai Shan Temple. All the bodies had been taken into one of the other chambers, but the evidence was still there in the bullet holes across the walls, rubble and scorch marks from a grenade, a puddle of blood in front of the main altar. One of the porcelain gods was standing with his arms outstretched, but his body now ended at his neck, which was jagged and hollow. His head was in pieces all around him. Another had lost a hand. It was as if they had tried to take part in the fight and had been crippled as a result.
Jet and Sing had been on their own, waiting for Scarlett and the others to arrive. They had no idea how she had managed to cross Hong Kong – it would have been impossible now to leave the building – but they were glad to see her when she walked in. Jet had been wounded. He was holding a dressing against his neck, and his shirt was soaked in blood. Sing was still holding the sword stick that he had used to kill Audrey Cheng. He seemed to be unhurt.
Neither of them had noticed that there was another man in the chamber, hiding underneath the altar. He was one of the chairman’s men and he had been shot twice. It was his blood that was pooling out. He knew he didn’t have very long. There was a gun inches from his outstretched hand.
Speaking in Chinese, Lohan demanded a report from his two lieutenants. Quickly, they told him what he wanted to know and he translated for Matthew and Richard.
“There were many people waiting here,” he said. “They would have killed you if you had tried to reach the door. But they have all been dealt with…”
“Then let’s get out of here,” Richard said. He turned to Matt. “It’s time to go.”
Lohan walked forward and shook Scarlett’s hand. “Good luck,” he said. “The journey that we made together just now is something that I will never forget.”
“I’m glad I met you, Lohan,” Scarlett said. “Thank you for helping me.” She had relaxed a little, but Matt could see that she was still concentrating, keeping the typhoon at bay. She had to stay in control. While she was inside the temple the wind and the rain were barely touching its walls.
The door with the five-pointed star was in front of them. It seemed so small and ordinary that it was hard to believe that it would lead them, not outside and into the storm but to anywhere in the world.
“So where are we going, Matt?” Jamie asked.
The dying man had fumbled for the gun. From where he was lying he could only see the two boys and the Chinese man who had arrived with them. The girl was standing right behind and the other man was somewhere out of sight. He could probably take out at least two of them before he was killed himself. He had decided that was what he would do. After all, it was the reason he was here.
Which one first?
The boy who had just asked the question – the one with the long hair and the American accent – was directly in his sight. Slowly, the man took aim. The boy was only a few steps away. The man’s hand was sticky with his own blood. The gun was covered in it. But he knew exactly what he was doing. There was no way he was going to miss.
Then the door with the five-pointed star opened.
Scott, with Pedro right behind him, burst into the temple. Jamie opened his mouth to speak. Matt was gazing in surprise. What had seemed impossible for so long had finally happened. The Gatekeepers had come together. They were all here, in the same space.
Scott. Jamie. Matt. Pedro. And Scarlett.
The Five.
But Scott hadn’t stopped. He ran forward and threw himself at his brother, knocking him aside.
