The final thrilling installment of Darren Shan’s Zom-B series is sure to knock you dead!
B Smith has escaped from the murderous clown Mr. Dowling, only to find herself trapped by someone she had once thought of as an ally. As B learns more about the twisted history of the zombie virus, she prepares to make a final stand against her enemies—even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice.
A Blackstone Audio production.
Release date:
March 22, 2016
Publisher:
Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Print pages:
208
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Dr. Oystein stares at me solemnly as I glare at him and try to break the spell that I’m under. But, as much as I strain and twitch, my limbs won’t do what I want. Owl Man is in command of my body and I can’t move until he frees me.
“There is such ferocity in her expression,” Owl Man murmurs, running his fingers over his bulging stomach and pursing his lips. “I think she would rip your head off if I released her.”
“No,” Dr. Oystein says softly. “She could have killed me in the brewery if she wished to end my life. I was at her mercy but she spared me.”
“That was a mistake,” I snarl, hating myself for what I’ve done to Barnes, hating Dr. Oystein and Owl Man for making me do it. “If the chance comes my way again…”
Dr. Oystein sighs. He studies me sadly for a few seconds, then stands and fetches another seat. He positions it behind me and nods at Owl Man.
“You may sit, Becky,” Owl Man says, and I slide backwards onto the chair.
Dr. Oystein sits opposite me, hands resting on his knees. He looks tired, bloody and bruised from our fight earlier. Owl Man stands just behind him. Sakarias pads across, lies by its master’s feet and closes its eyes. It looks like an ordinary sheepdog now, no sign of mutant claws or fangs.
There’s movement behind me. Rage enters by the back door, grinning wickedly. He must have rowed ashore and tied Barnes’s boat back up at the pier. He spots the corpse and laughs harshly.
“I bet Owl Man made you kill him,” Rage chuckles.
“You’ll be next,” I promise.
“Not as long as I’m a loyal servant,” he says, taking his place by Owl Man’s side, every bit as faithful as the snoozing dog on the floor.
“Let me at him,” I plead.
“No,” Owl Man says. “Besides, in your current condition, it would not be a fair contest.”
“That is why she asked you to let her fight,” Dr. Oystein says. “She wants him to destroy her brain, so that she can escape. I do not blame her. After all that she has suffered, she deserves the relief of true death.”
“Fine words,” I sneer. “Back them up with action if you mean them.”
“I will,” he says to my surprise. “When we are done here, if you wish for me to execute you, I’ll do that great and terrible thing. You have served my cause in ways no one else ever has, and I know you have paid a dreadful price. If oblivion is the reward you crave, I’ll grant it.
“Release her, Zachary,” Dr. Oystein says, calling Owl Man by his preferred title, even though the creep’s real name is Tom White.
Owl Man looks uncertain. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I think that she is ready to listen to us now,” Dr. Oystein says. “If not, you can always reassert your authority over her.”
“Very well.” Owl Man waves a hand at me. “You’re free,” he says, and I feel myself relaxing back to normal. As soon as my limbs are my own, I hurl myself at Dr. Oystein, fingers clawing for his eyes.
“Stop!” Owl Man barks, and I freeze. “Sit,” he says, and I return to my chair.
“It seems that you were right and I was wrong, Zachary,” the doc notes glumly.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It was a knee-jerk reaction. Let me go. I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Owl Man cocks an eyebrow at Dr. Oystein. The doc doesn’t hesitate, nodding immediately. “Very well,” Owl Man says. “You’re free again, Becky.”
I’m out of my chair even before he’s finished saying my name, and this time I almost get my hands on an unflinching Dr. Oystein before Owl Man exerts his control over me and once more sends me back to the chair.
“It’s hopeless, Oystein,” he says. “The girl is beyond reason.”
“So it seems,” the doc murmurs. “Yet I would try with her, Zachary, again and again. She is worth so much more than you or I, and I hate what we have done to her.” He grimaces. “But we don’t have all night. I will leave her a prisoner of your wishes for the time being.”
“Ever the gent,” I sneer, then glare at Owl Man. I hate this tall man in the striped suit, with his potbelly and abnormally large eyes, but I’m impressed at the same time. “How the hell do you do this anyway? The doc said you hypnotized me when I was a kid. Is that true?”
“I certainly hypnotized you,” Owl Man purrs, “but more recently than that. I did it when you returned from your first encounter with one of Albrecht’s babies, after it had killed your artist friend.”
I think back. “You mean when I was in the Groove Tube?” That was a long time ago. I was in bad shape then–though nowhere near as bad as I am now–and had to spend a few weeks immersed in the restorative liquid, in a blissed-out, unconscious state.
“I couldn’t hypnotize you while you were in a state of suspension,” Owl Man says, “but I did it not long afterwards. When you were fished out and told Dr. Oystein what had happened with the baby, he could see that you were a crucial player in his war with Mr. Dowling. He asked me if I would establish a control mechanism, so that we could steady you if we thought that you were going astray. He led you out of County Hall and brought you to me, so that I could work my charms on you. At the end of our many sessions together, I told you to wipe the memory of our encounter from your thoughts. That is why you have no recollection of it.”
“So you were in league with Owl Man even then,” I spit at the doc.
“Of course,” he says glumly. “As I told you, Zachary is my nephew. We have had our differences over the years, and it was important that certain individuals believed we were still on confrontational terms, but we have been cooperating closely for a long time now, as you will have seen in the records that you found in the brewery.”
“They made for cheery reading, didn’t they?” Rage snorts.
“You read them too?” I frown.
“Sure,” he says. “I went there the night that we got back from New Kirkham, while the rest of you were guarding Dan-Dan in the suburbs. I had a feeling there was more to what happened with your old teacher, Billy Burke, than met the eye.”
I remember that night, Rage sneaking out, looking ashen when he returned, sitting apart from the rest of us, brooding. A conversation we had in Battersea comes back to me. He told me to make for Brick Lane to look for answers. I’d forgotten all about that, at least on a conscious level.
“That’s when I decided to switch sides,” Rage goes on. “The doc had tricked me, made me think there might be truly decent people out there, that they had a chance of changing the world for the better. I started to think that I could be a hero. But then I saw he was a liar. To be honest, I was relieved when I found out that the doc was as twisted as the rest of us. It freed me to go back to the way I was.”
Dr. Oystein says nothing to defend himself while Rage is criticizing him. I find myself getting hot under the collar. I want to tell Rage to shut up, that he’s got no right to criticize a man of Dr. Oystein’s caliber. Then I think about what I learned earlier tonight. I remind myself that, even though I don’t want to believe it, and as much as it pains me to admit it, my beloved mentor is a villain beyond compare. And I keep my mouth closed.
“We have so much to discuss,” the doc says. “This is a night for revelations. I have told you many lies in the past, or subtly distorted things that were true. No more. I will be honest with you in this final stretch. All that I can share, I will. But first I must know about the vial. Zachary?” He glances back at Owl Man. “It is vital that she answers honestly.”
“Becky,” Owl Man says. “Tell us the truth.”
I feel my jaw tighten, my tongue no longer quite my own.
Dr. Oystein leans forward tensely. “Did you discover where Mr. Dowling was storing his vial of Schlesinger-10?”
I want to lie, to prevent him from finding out what has happened to the virus that could wipe out the whole of humanity if released, but I can’t. “Yes,” I groan.
“Did you go in pursuit of it?” Dr. Oystein presses.
Again I’m forced to answer truthfully. “Yes.”
“And did you take it?” he hisses.
“Yes,” I grunt. “I wedged it into my stomach and fled with it inside me.”
The doc’s eyes sparkle as brightly as the undead’s ever can. He lurches forward as if to rip through the bandages that Barnes wrapped round me. Then he stops himself and sits back, smiling warmly.
“No. That can wait. We are relatively safe here. We have some time to play with. Let us talk first. Then we will attend to other matters.”
The doc licks his lips, looks at the bandages again, then strokes his chin and casts his thoughts b. . .
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