Necropolis

creature.
    Mr. Soong had taken out a gun. He pointed it at one of the approaching policemen and fired. The bullet hit the policeman in the face, tearing a huge hole in his cheek, but he didn't even flinch. He kept on coming. Mr. Soong fired a second time, this time straight into the man's chest. Blood spouted, but still the policeman came. Mr. Soong was trapped. He had nowhere to run. Scarlett saw him push the barrel of the gun into his own mouth. She closed her eyes a moment before he fired.
    It was easy to tell the real tourists now. They were screaming, in hysterics, dropping their new purchases and scattering across the quay, unsure what was going on, not wanting to be part of it. A woman in a fur coat slipped and fell. She was immediately trampled underfoot by the rest of the crowd trying to get past. Two men were knocked over the side into the narrow space between the ship and the dock. Scarlett heard them hit the water and doubted that either of them would ever climb out again.
    Her father was still holding her. She couldn't believe what he had done. He had deliberately told them she was there. He had been waiting for her all along. And she had helped him. There had been one final trap, and she had fallen into it.
    "I'm sorry, Scarly," he was saying. "I had to do it. It was the only way. They've promised that they won't hurt you, and my reward, the reward for both of us — we're going to be rich! You have no idea how much power they have. And we're going to be part of it…their new world."
    Of course he had been in it all along. He worked for Nightrise. He had invited her here, made her leave school early with no explanation. He had been skulking somewhere nearby, leaving her in their clutches.
    And finally he had been positioned here, just in case she tried to get onto the ship…
    Scarlett thought of all the people who had tried to help her, all the people who had died because of her.
    Mr. and Mrs. Soong had spent just a few minutes with her, but it had been enough. She had killed them.
    She listened to this pathetic man — he was still jabbering at her — and she spat in his face.
    Then someone grabbed her from behind. It was Karl. She didn't know where he had come from, but the chauffeur was unbelievably strong. He lifted her into the air, then dashed her down. Her head hit the concrete so hard that she thought her skull must have cracked. A bolt of sheer pain ripped across her vision.
    In the final moments of consciousness, she saw a whole series of images, flickering across her vision like an out-of-control slide show. There was Matt, the boy she had never met in the real world, on his way to Macao. There were the other three — Scott, Jamie, and Pedro — gazing at her helplessly. There was the beach where she had found herself night after night. And there, once again, was the neon sign with a symbol that was shaped like a triangle, and two words: signal eight The letters flared in the darkness. Looking through them, she saw the chairman, Audrey Cheng, Father Gregory, and, for one last brief moment, her father.
    "It's coming," she managed to whisper to them.
    Then the darkness rushed in, slamming into her like an express train, and at that moment she felt something unlock inside her. It was like a window being shattered, and she knew that she would never be the same again.

    ***
    Five hundred miles away, in a place called the Strait of Luzon, between Thailand and the Philippines, the dragon heard her. It was there because she had summoned it. The dragon had been sleeping in the very depths of the ocean, but it slowly opened one eye.
    signal nine
    The letters burned in brilliant neon light. There was a symbol beside it, an hourglass, and Scarlett almost wanted to laugh because she knew what it was saying. Time's up. The countdown has begun.

    The dragon began to move. Nothing could get in its way.
    It was heading for Hong Kong.
    TWENTY-THREE
    Matt's Diary [3]
    I don't think I'm going to be able to write much more of this diary. I don't find it easy, putting all these words together, and anyway, what's the point? Who will ever read it? Richard thought it was a good idea, but really it just fills in time.
    I can't believe we've finally made it to Macao. Jamie is asleep, worn out with jet lag after another flight across the world, and Richard is in a room next door. In an hour's time, we're going to meet a man named Han Shan-tung, who can help us get into Hong Kong. We've waited almost a week for him