BooksBarbecue
Back Resurrection
Chapters (81)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. Glossary
  78. Dramatis Personae
  79. Keep Reading …
  80. The Skulduggery Pleasant series
  81. About the Publisher

The car was quiet. It was a tomb. She was a slab of meat and this was her tomb. She was dead. They were going to find her and bury her, close her up in a coffin and put the coffin into the cold, cold ground. The last thing she’d hear would be the shovels throwing dirt and she’d lie there in the cold and the dark forever.

She heard somebody call her name.

Her eyes were still open. She was still looking at her lap. She wasn’t in a coffin. Wasn’t in a grave. She was sitting in her car with her head down. Shadows moved over her jeans. Someone was at the window. Someone was knocking on the glass.

Her right hand. She could move the fingers of her right hand. She curled them, dug the nails into her palm. It hurt. She dug in deeper. It hurt more. When the pain was close enough, she took hold of it and let it drag her out, drag her up. The closer to the surface she got, the more she could feel. Her toes. She wriggled them, felt the socks she was wearing, the trainers. She moved her leg slightly, felt the jeans rub against her skin. She took a breath and her hand felt lighter. She lifted it, looked up, saw Omen looking in at her, a worried expression on his face.

Valkyrie fumbled for the button that unlocked the car doors, and motioned for him to get in.

“Everything OK?” Omen asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Valkyrie lied. “Did Never drop you off?”

“I took a taxi. Never’s mad at me for letting myself get hurt.”

“Sorry about that.” She reached for her wallet. “How much was the taxi? I’ll reimburse you.”

“It’s OK, Miss Gnosis pre-paid.”

“Ah,” Valkyrie said, taking her hand out of her pocket. “I’ll reimburse her, then.”

Omen shrugged. A moment passed. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Don’t I look OK?”

“You look fine now,” he said. “I’m not being rude or anything, but a minute ago you looked … I don’t know. You looked sad.”

“I was just … I was thinking. I was a million miles away. But I’m fine. Really. You ready to do this?”

“Yep.”

“You should probably knock,” she said.

His face slackened. “Aw.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that too much for you?”

“No,” he said grudgingly. “I just hate knocking on doors. I’m the same with making phone calls when I don’t know who’s going to answer. I’m just not very good socially.”

“Few people are. Most of us just pretend.”

“Is that what you do?”