Page 101 of Something Rotten (Thursday Next 4)

'Right. Chesney swaps the soul of someone deceased for someone healthy and living.'

'I'd say you're shitting me but I've got a feeling you're not.' 'I wish I was. Nice little earner, I'm sure. It looks like that's where Formby's driver Mallory went. Okay, here's the plan: we'll do a hostage swap for the President and once you're in their custody I'll get Formby to safety and return for you.'

'I've got a better idea,' I replied, 'how about we swap you for Formby and I go to get help?'

'I thought you knew all about the underworld from your bosom pal Orpheus?' countered Spike with a trace of annoyance.

'It was highlights over coffee – and anyway, you've done it before. What was that about an inflatable boat from Argos to paddle yourself to the underworld?'

'Well,' said Spike slowly, 'that was more of a hypothetical journey, really.'

'You haven't a clue what you're doing, have you?'

'No. But for ten grand, I'm willing to take a few risks.'

We didn't have time to argue further as several shots came our way. There was a frightened scream from a customer as one of the bullets reduced a magazine shelf to confetti. Before I knew it Spike had fired his shotgun into the ceiling, where it destroyed a light fixture in a shower of bright sparks.

'Who

shot at us?' asked Spike. 'Did you see?'

'I think it's fair to say that it wasn't the light fixture.'

'I had to shoot at something. Cover me.'

He jumped up and fired. I joined him, fool that I was. I had thought that being out of my depth was okay because Spike vaguely knew what he was doing. Now that I was certain this was not the case, escape seemed a very good option indeed. After firing several shots ineffectively down the corridor, we stopped and dropped back round the corner.

'Chesney!' shouted Spike. 'I want to talk to you!'

'What do you want here?' came a voice. 'This is my patch!'

'Let's have a head-to-head,' replied Spike, stifling a giggle. 'I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement!'

There was a pause, then Chesney's voice rang out again:

'Hold your fire. We're coming out.'

Chesney stepped out into the open, just next to the children's helicopter ride and a Coriolanus Will-Speak machine. His remaining henchman joined him, holding the President.

'Hello, Spike,' said Chesney. He was a tall man who looked as though he didn't have a drop of liquid blood in his entire body. 'I haven't forgiven you for killing me.'

'I kill vampires for a living, Dave. You became one – I had to.'

'Had to?'

'Sure. You were about to sink your teeth into an eighteen-year-old virgin's neck and turn her into a lifeless husk willing to do your every bidding.'

'Everyone should have a hobby.'

'Train sets I tolerate,' Spike replied, 'spreading the seed of vampirism I do not.'

He nodded towards Chesney's neck.

'Nasty scratch you have there.'

'Very funny. What's the deal?'

'Simple. I want President Formby back.'

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