Free The Gates (2009) by John Connolly Page A

you for a nice holiday, or on a trip to the zoo, it wouldn’t be much of a threat, would it?”
    “But why do you have to drag me off to Hell?”
    “Orders.”
    “Whose orders?”
    “Can’t say.”
    “Can’t say, or won’t say?”
    “Both.”
    “Why not?”
    “She wouldn’t want me to.”
    “Mrs. Abernathy?”
    The demon didn’t reply.
    “Oh come on, I know it’s her,” said Samuel. “You’ve already given most of it away.”
    “Right then,” said the demon. “It’s her. Happy now?”
    “Not really. I still don’t want to be dragged off to Hell.”
    “Then we have what’s known as an impasse,” said the demon.
    “How long can you stay down there?”
    “First sign of daylight, then I have to depart. Them’s the rules, just like I can’t get you unless you step on the floor.”
    “So if I just stay up here, then you can’t touch me?”
    “I just said that, didn’t I? I don’t make the rules. I wish I did. This whole business would run a lot more smoothly, I can tell you.”
    “Then I’ll simply stay here.”
    “Great. You do that.”
    Samuel folded his arms and stared at the far wall. From under the bed, he heard what sounded like tentacles being folded. Lots of tentacles.
    “Not much point in you hanging around, though, is there, if I’m not going to set foot on the floor until you’re gone,” said Samuel.
    The demon thought about this. “Suppose not,” it said.
    “So why don’t you just leave? It can’t be very comfortable under there.”
    “It’s not. Smells funny, too. And there’s something poking into me.”
    Samuel heard scuffling from beneath the bed, and moments later a stray toy soldier was tossed against the wardrobe. “You don’t even want to know where that was,” said the demon.
    “Whatever,” said Samuel. “Are you going to leave?”
    “Not much else I can do, really,” said the demon, “not if you’re going to be difficult about it.”
    “Off you go, then,” said Samuel.
    “Right. Bye.”
    There was a great deal of squelching, then silence.
    “You’re still under there, aren’t you?” said Samuel.
    “No,” said a small voice, slightly ashamedly.
    “Fibber.”
    “Fine, I’ll go. Don’t know what I’m supposed to tell her, though.”
    “Don’t tell her anything. Just keep a low profile until dawn, then say that I didn’t get up during the night.”
    “Might work,” said the demon. “Might work. You promise not to get up to use the bathroom or anything?”
    “Cross my heart,” said Samuel.
    “Can’t ask for more than that,” said the demon. “Well, pleasure doing business with you. Nothing personal about all this, you know. Just following orders.”
    “You’re not going to come back, are you?”
    “Oh no, I shouldn’t think so. Took a lot of power for her to summon me up. Can’t imagine she’ll try that one again. She has a lot on her mind, what with keeping the portal open and all. Very unstable, that portal. Someone could do themselves aninjury in there if they’re not careful. She might look for another way to get at you, though. Then again she might not. Soon, it won’t matter much either way.”
    “Why not?” said Samuel.
    “End of the world,” said the demon. “Won’t be any beds left to hide under.”
    And with a squish and a pop, it was gone.

XI
In Which We Encounter the Scientists Again
    N O GOOD EVER COMES of someone sticking his head round his boss’s door, a worried expression on his face and a piece of paper in one hand that, if it could talk, would shout, very loudly, “Bad! This is bad! Run away now!”
    But thus it was that when Professor Stefan, CERN’s head of particle physics, saw Professor Hilbert hovering on his doorstep, with both a) a worried expression; and b) a piece of paper that, despite being white and bearing only a series of numbers and a small diagram, also managed to look worried, he began to feel worried too.
    “What is it, Hilbert?” said Professor Stefan in the tone of one