The Power of Five Oblivion

Will only took a few more steps before he was shot down. I couldn’t tell if he’d been wounded or killed. A second later I saw the Traveller turn round and fire off three shots: at least one of them found its target – a perfect target – because I saw the policewoman throw her head back, and when she lowered it again there was a round, red hole where her left eye had been. She fell onto her knees, but then the Traveller cried out and went sprawling, and suddenly there was just Jamie and me with the door right in front of us and there was no chance of the Traveller following so Jamie just grabbed me instead and the two of us burst through.
    The church was behind us. The policemen were still firing. There was smoke everywhere. And I remember thinking that, this time, I really, really hoped the door would work.

ANTARCTICA
    It was exactly like being electrocuted.
    Scott felt the terrible shock running through him, and even if he had wanted to let go of the lock it would have been impossible because his own hands were fused to it. He was burning up. It seemed to him that the world was on fire … the sky, the ice. He could barely see, his vision torn away from him. He knew that he was dying on his feet.
    But this was for Jamie and he refused to black out. He refused to die. He fought back, ignoring the pain even as it shuddered through his arms, and instead he focused all his remaining strength on separating the white ivory hands, pulling them apart. He had forgotten the injuries that Jonas Mortlake had inflicted on him. He had forgotten everything that had happened since he had walked out of the door from Hong Kong and into the Abbey of San Galgano. All that mattered was that he should succeed and, sure enough, in the half-second before he collapsed, unconscious, he felt his hands come apart and knew that the chain had been unfastened, that the door was open and that Jamie could come through.
    Scarlett felt herself being released from Scott’s power and ran over to Scott, who was lying dead still, his hands and wrists blackened, smoke seeping out of the corner of his mouth. He looked hideous, like the victim of some terrible accident. Lohan was right behind her.
    “What’s happening?” Lohan shouted. “The sky!”
    It was true. Scott hadn’t imagined it. Flames were rippling across the Antarctic sky. It was a shocking, horrific image. The end of the world.
    “I don’t know!” Scarlett was next to Scott, certain he was dead, cradling him in her arms.
    Lohan looked past her, at the two chains with the ivory hands, now lying apart. “He did it!” he exclaimed. “The door is open. You and I can leave! You can take us anywhere in the world!”
    “We’re not going anywhere,” Scarlett cried.
    “Wait…!”
    Lohan was pointing. Scarlett looked into the cave.
    There were three figures in the darkness, moving out of the shadows. They were coming towards her.

FIFTY-FIVE
    In their own way, they were beautiful.
    They might have been designed only to bring death and devastation but the Trident missiles, fired from the submarine twelve minutes before, had an undoubted magnificence as they grouped together and began their descent.
    Not all the boats carrying the survivors of the World Army were far enough away from Oblivion and many of them would be caught up in the blast and the inevitable tsunami that would follow. But innocent people must die in every war and they would be serving a greater good. Surely even the power of the Old Ones could not stand up to the blast wave generated by twelve nuclear warheads. The fortress would be vaporized. In fact the entire ice shelf for miles around would disappear.
    And there they were, silver needles in the sky. They were like a flock of birds, each one with a separate intelligence and yet coming together in a single, unified whole. The target was ahead of them. The fortress was still tiny but with every second it seemed to grow as the missiles closed in.
    Nobody saw them. They were still covered by the clouds, and anyway, they were moving too fast. By the time anyone looked up, it would be too late.

    Pedro was the first one to emerge from the cave, still dressed in the thin clothes he had been wearing in Rome, and he was hit at once by the full force of the Antarctic cold. Maybe the shock of it did him good because it was as if he had finally left the poison behind him, and as he continued forward his steps became stronger and more confident until he was almost running,