Read Online Gallows at Twilight by William Hussey - Free Book Online
Authors: William Hussey
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eight-armed lady driving merrily around town.
‘Did you mean to speak to me in that tone, kiddo?’ she asked. ‘Or are you always as prickly as a porcupine’s butt in the mornin’s? This was your daddy’s idea. Said that if, by some miracle, we managed to save your half-beast buddy, then there was no way you could ever go back home. The Demon Father would be on you faster’n flies on fudge.’
‘Then where are we heading?’
‘A favourite ol’ haunt of mine.’
The bright brow of dawn peeped over London rooftops. Startled by the sudden light, the pigeons in Trafalgar Square scattered, regrouped in midair, and swooped back down into the plaza. Commuters emerged blinking from the underground station like a pack of well-dressed moles. Eager tourists consulted maps and guides, posed for photos and generally got in everybody’s way. Perched on his column high above the commotion, Admiral Nelson seemed to follow the path of Dr Harker’s Volkswagen as it reached the south side of the square.
Pandora turned left onto a broad avenue lined with important-looking buildings and statues of men on horseback. Jake immediately recognized the road from news reports: this was Whitehall, the heart of the British government. Some of the most important people in the country worked behind these grand, imposing walls.
Tucked into a corner of Whitehall was a humble little side street with a row of dull, dark-brick houses halfway along. This apparently unremarkable place was Downing Street, and at Number 10 the British Prime Minister was still settling into her new job. Cynthia Croft had been in office only a month. As they passed the gated entrance to Downing Street, Jake wondered how much the government and Miss Croft knew about the evil that lurked in this land. Did the authorities of the world have any idea about demons and witches?
At the end of Whitehall, Pandora turned onto Westminster Bridge. They crossed the River Thames and Jake saw the reflection of the Houses of Parliament rippling in the murky water. He thought back to that time when he had flown over this river on the back of an enchanted snake.
‘You’re taking us there , aren’t you?’ he said.
Pandora didn’t answer. The car reached the east side of the bridge and, between a clutter of half-finished buildings, Jake glimpsed the glass and steel bulk of Waterloo Station. From there a dozen winding routes led them into the back alleys of the South Bank.
‘We’re here.’
Pandora pulled over and slipped out of the driver’s seat. Jake joined her on the pavement. It was a London street like any other—the bustle of traffic, the sting of fumes, snatches of overheard conversation. The commuters hurrying towards Waterloo gave Jake and Pandora only cursory glances. Certainly no one looked beyond the Volkswagen and down the alley that joined up with the street.
Jake ran fingers through his long hair, breathed deeply, and stepped into the alley. All at once the busy atmosphere of the outside world fell away and a chilling silence wrapped itself around him. He looked up at the sign bolted to the wall:
This was the last place on earth he wanted to be: the little London street that appeared on no maps and that reality seemed to shun. Jake had not been back since the night he had faced Marcus Crowden. The night his father had sustained that dreadful wound. Sensing Pandora at his side, he said, ‘Why have you brought us here?’
‘It’s the safest place for you right now. There are many dark creatures in these parts that are loyal to your father.’
Jake eyed the dripping walls, the filthy windows. The prospect of hiding out in one of these houses wasn’t very appealing.
They went back to the car and woke Rachel. Yaga Passage was too narrow for the Volkswagen, and so Jake fed coins into a parking meter and slapped a ticket on the inside of the windscreen. He and Rachel then started to lift the still unconscious Adam out of the back seat.
‘We’ll leave
‘Did you mean to speak to me in that tone, kiddo?’ she asked. ‘Or are you always as prickly as a porcupine’s butt in the mornin’s? This was your daddy’s idea. Said that if, by some miracle, we managed to save your half-beast buddy, then there was no way you could ever go back home. The Demon Father would be on you faster’n flies on fudge.’
‘Then where are we heading?’
‘A favourite ol’ haunt of mine.’
The bright brow of dawn peeped over London rooftops. Startled by the sudden light, the pigeons in Trafalgar Square scattered, regrouped in midair, and swooped back down into the plaza. Commuters emerged blinking from the underground station like a pack of well-dressed moles. Eager tourists consulted maps and guides, posed for photos and generally got in everybody’s way. Perched on his column high above the commotion, Admiral Nelson seemed to follow the path of Dr Harker’s Volkswagen as it reached the south side of the square.
Pandora turned left onto a broad avenue lined with important-looking buildings and statues of men on horseback. Jake immediately recognized the road from news reports: this was Whitehall, the heart of the British government. Some of the most important people in the country worked behind these grand, imposing walls.
Tucked into a corner of Whitehall was a humble little side street with a row of dull, dark-brick houses halfway along. This apparently unremarkable place was Downing Street, and at Number 10 the British Prime Minister was still settling into her new job. Cynthia Croft had been in office only a month. As they passed the gated entrance to Downing Street, Jake wondered how much the government and Miss Croft knew about the evil that lurked in this land. Did the authorities of the world have any idea about demons and witches?
At the end of Whitehall, Pandora turned onto Westminster Bridge. They crossed the River Thames and Jake saw the reflection of the Houses of Parliament rippling in the murky water. He thought back to that time when he had flown over this river on the back of an enchanted snake.
‘You’re taking us there , aren’t you?’ he said.
Pandora didn’t answer. The car reached the east side of the bridge and, between a clutter of half-finished buildings, Jake glimpsed the glass and steel bulk of Waterloo Station. From there a dozen winding routes led them into the back alleys of the South Bank.
‘We’re here.’
Pandora pulled over and slipped out of the driver’s seat. Jake joined her on the pavement. It was a London street like any other—the bustle of traffic, the sting of fumes, snatches of overheard conversation. The commuters hurrying towards Waterloo gave Jake and Pandora only cursory glances. Certainly no one looked beyond the Volkswagen and down the alley that joined up with the street.
Jake ran fingers through his long hair, breathed deeply, and stepped into the alley. All at once the busy atmosphere of the outside world fell away and a chilling silence wrapped itself around him. He looked up at the sign bolted to the wall:
This was the last place on earth he wanted to be: the little London street that appeared on no maps and that reality seemed to shun. Jake had not been back since the night he had faced Marcus Crowden. The night his father had sustained that dreadful wound. Sensing Pandora at his side, he said, ‘Why have you brought us here?’
‘It’s the safest place for you right now. There are many dark creatures in these parts that are loyal to your father.’
Jake eyed the dripping walls, the filthy windows. The prospect of hiding out in one of these houses wasn’t very appealing.
They went back to the car and woke Rachel. Yaga Passage was too narrow for the Volkswagen, and so Jake fed coins into a parking meter and slapped a ticket on the inside of the windscreen. He and Rachel then started to lift the still unconscious Adam out of the back seat.
‘We’ll leave
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