Hellfighters: (Book 2) (Devil's Engine Trilogy, 2) - Hardcover

Smith, Alexander Gordon

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0374301727 ISBN 13: 9780374301729

Verlag: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr), 2016

Inhaltsangabe

In Hellraisers, he made a demonic deal. Now, in this sequel, The Devil's Engine: Hellfighters, it’s time to pay the price.

Thrown into a relentless war against the forces of darkness, fifteen-year-old Marlow Green and his squad of secret soldiers must fight for control of the Devil’s Engines—ancient, infernal machines that can make any wish come true, as long as you are willing to put your life on the line. But after a monstrous betrayal, Marlow, Pan and the other Hellraisers find themselves on the run from an enemy with horrific powers and limitless resources—an enemy that wants them dead at all costs. Failure doesn’t just mean a fate worse than death for Marlow, it means the total annihilation of the world. And when all looks lost and the stakes couldn’t be higher, just how far is he willing to go?

In the second book of The Devil's Engine trilogy, Alexander Gordon Smith has written another of his signature thrilling, fast-paced Faustian horror story that turns the tables on the battle between good and evil.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Alexander Gordon Smith lives in Norwich, England. He is the author of The Fury and the Escape from Furnace series, which has sold nearly half-a-million copies.

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The Devil's Engine

Hellfighters

By Alexander Gordon Smith

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Copyright © 2016 Alexander Gordon Smith
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-374-30172-9

Contents

Title Page, 
Copyright Notice, 
Dedication, 
Part I: Instigation, 
Keep Going, 
Dead Man Walking, 
Understatement of the Century, 
One for Sorrow, 
Abomination, 
Why Is There a House Growing Out of This Train?, 
Hang On, 
Nightfall, 
Prague, 
What's New?, 
He Would Have Said Yes, 
Part II: Retaliation, 
Bienvenue, 
Herc's Big Girl, 
Nope, 
Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned, 
City of Death, 
It's Over, 
The Liminal, 
Home Sweet Home, 
The Truth, 
Reunited, 
War, 
Let's Get the Hell Out of Here, 
Part III: Annihilation, 
Contracts, 
Breathless, 
Mirror, Mirror, 
Last Stand, 
Meridiana, 
Knock Knock, 
In the Blood, 
To Hell, 
Open Your Eyes, 
Also by Alexander Gordon Smith, 
About the Author, 
Copyright, 

CHAPTER 1

PART I

INSTIGATION

KEEP GOING

Her foster mom had always said that hell was a place you walked to on your own two feet.

It wasn't a lake of fire; it wasn't some fairy-tale land where sinners broiled in their own remorse, poked at by devils. No, it was just where you ended up when you went too far in the wrong direction, when you were too stubborn or too stupid to turn back, to admit you were wrong.

Hell was right here, and she was about to walk in through the front door.

Amelia stepped into the road, into the flashing neon lights reflected in the rain-slicked asphalt. The reflections blazed orange and yellow, like flames, but she was shivering as she bolted to the far sidewalk, to the building that sat there. It was a run-down walk-up, hunched against the night like a sleeping beast. The door was red. Bright red. It didn't belong here, the way that nothing belonged here, the way that she didn't belong here. She reached out for it and paused, the rain a cold mist that played with her fingers. From somewhere above her came a noise, something that was half shout and half scream. It was cut off with a dull thud, then silence again, like the building was trying to lure her in.

She swallowed and glanced back over her shoulder at the street, at the lights of Astoria behind her. It was nearly eleven. Her mom wouldn't even know she was missing until the morning. She could sneak back home, curl up under her blankets. Sure, home wasn't heaven or anything, but at least her mom cared.

But he was here.

Sniffing against the cold, Amelia turned back to that big red door and pushed gently. It swung open like a crocodile's jaw, too easy, too eager. Inside was a lobby drenched in sulfurous yellow light, mailboxes to one side, a fire extinguisher to the other. A narrow hallway led into darkness, stairs visible at the end of it.

Something detonated with a soft thump, like a distant explosion, and the whole building swayed. Amelia rocked back and forth, and for a moment she understood that she wasn't really here, that she was somewhere else. The lights flickered, the building settled, and suddenly she wasn't alone.

"I knew you'd come."

He stood in the lobby, his eyes gleaming shards of obsidian.

Her stomach lurched like a startled animal, like it meant to bolt right out through her skin. He smoothed his hair back and smiled, holding out his hand. A gold ring glinted in the artificial light, winking at her.

Hell was a place you could get to only on your own two feet, and she used them now, walking toward him as confidently as she could. He opened his arms, slowly, and she thought of a bear trap being set up to spring. The building rocked again, swaying from side to side as if the world was trying to shake her from its back. Then the floor seemed to tilt downward and she slipped, sliding into him. His hands snapped shut around her neck, crushing, choking, and she screamed.

"You're mine now," he said, his lips against her ear. And the rush of panic that roared through her was like standing in the path of a subway train. She fought him, slapping her hands against his shoulders, but he was an engine of stone and steel, his arms ratcheting tight around her throat.

You're not here, she heard herself say, but the fear was as real as it had ever been. He was going to kill her. Why had she listened to him? Why had she agreed to meet him? Nobody even knew where she was. Nobody would know where to look for her.

She opened her mouth, sought the flesh of his chest, clamped her teeth down. This time he was the one who screamed, and he pushed her away, his face warped by fury. She staggered back, spitting out the wet taste of copper. She wasn't in the lobby anymore, she was inside his apartment. Candles burned, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and something sweeter. Then he was on her, charging like a bull, blood spilling from the open mouth she'd left in his chest.

Hell was a place you walked to on your own two feet. She ducked beneath his sweeping arms, pushed through the ugly smell of him. There was a lamp beside his bed, big and gray. It didn't have a shade, just a dead bulb. She reached for it without thinking, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop herself, knowing that this had already happened. She might as well try to stop the sun from rising.

"Get —"

It was all he had time to say before she turned, swinging the lamp like a bat. It was almost too heavy for her to lift, but once it was moving she didn't have to do anything, she let momentum work for her. He was running too fast to stop, so blinded by rage that he didn't even see it. They met like colliding trains —

thunk

— the base of the lamp a wrecking ball that stopped him in his tracks —

thunk

— and dropped him to the floor as if he had never truly been alive

* * *

thunkthud

— as if he were a puppet stuffed with sand and sawdust, strings snapped.

Thunkthud

— she watched the lamp hit and she watched him fall, again and again and again —

thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud

— she would be watching it forever —

thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud.

This was hell, after all. She'd walked here on her own two feet.

Thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud, thunkthud.

* * *

"Hey."

The room disintegrated, rocked into rubble and dust. Pan rose from it so fast that she couldn't even scream, burning into darkness like a rocket ship. She sat up, her heart rattling like a tired old motor, trying to open eyes that felt as if they'd been glued shut. Something impossibly hot but icy cold tingled at the ends of her fingers, the air full of the smell of electrical charge.

"Whoa! Pan!"

The world tumbled back into place and she blinked at it, her mouth gaping. Truck was right in front of her, the big guy's bald head gleaming in the light from the train car. He was holding her shoulders with the strength of a bear. She tried to speak, found that she couldn't, like that part of her brain had been left behind in the dream. Instead she lifted a hand, seeing brilliant blue sparks run back and forth between her blackened fingers like snakes of light, slithering into nothing.

"It's okay, kiddo," Truck said, holding on to her for a moment more before...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr)
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2016
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0374301727
• ISBN 13: 9780374301729
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 312
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland