The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (17 page)

‘There.’ Roger pointed to a man who had been pushed to the edge of the exercise yard. He had been left on his own to take in the fresh air.

‘That’s him.’ Jake recognised Jeremiah instantly.

Angel was first away. Running as fast as she could, crouching as she went. She reached Jeremiah first.

Jake and Roger were right behind her.

‘Jeremiah?’ Angel placed a hand on his shoulder.

The old man, slumped in the wheelchair, turned to see who had asked. His mouth dropped open.

‘It’s us.’ Jake pointed to Roger. ‘We have come to rescue you.’

‘Can you walk?’ Roger looked at the old farmers legs.

Jeremiah was too shocked to answer.
Was he dreaming?

‘You boys will have to carry him back.’ Angel looked around for any guards. ‘We need to go now.’

Roger and Jake got either side of Jeremiah and placed their arms around him. Looking at each other, the two were just about to take the strain when Jake noticed Angel was wandering off.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ He called after her, but his hushed tone wasn’t loud enough. He looked at Roger and shook his head. ‘Hang on, I’ll get her.’

Angel dragged her feet as she slowly walked across the loose gravel. She had seen a ghost; her legs had turned to lead.
This wasn’t possible.

‘For fucks sake, we need to go.’ Jake grabbed her arm.

‘Look.’ Was all she could mumble.

‘What?’

She pointed to a man leaning against a brick wall. A tall man with a shaven head.

Jake narrowed his eyes. He looked familiar. ‘Is that….’

‘It’s Yanto.’ Angel speeded up her walk.

‘It can’t be, he’s dead.’ Jake followed her.

‘It’s fucking Yanto.’ Angel continued.

Jake looked back to Roger, who was now very concerned. Angel was going to blow their cover. He angrily beckoned them back over.

Jake ran after Angel to pull her back, but as he got closer he looked at the inmate again. He shivered. Angel was right, it was Yanto. His hair had gone and he was heavily scarred, but it
was
the larger than life Welshman.

‘Yanto!’ Angel shouted. ‘Yanto, you’re alive.’

Jake could see some of the other inmates were now looking over.

Angel now went to hug Yanto, ‘I can’t believe it.’ She cried. ‘I thought I had left you for dead on the beach.’ She held his huge hand.

‘We have to go now.’ Jake looked at them both.

‘Oh Yanto.’ Angel kissed his cheek.

Yanto was blank. As if he was looking straight through them both.

‘Yanto, its Jake and Angel. We need to get you out of here.’ Jake went to pull on his arm, but he noticed how heavily bandaged he was.

Yanto’s eye’s widened. ‘No.’

‘No!?’ Angel asked.

‘No means no.’ Yanto replied in his deep south Walian accent.

‘We need to go now.’ Jake was starting to panic. A few of the inmates had started to walk over. ‘It’s us, Jake and Angel.’

‘No!’ Yanto shouted, and with his hammer like fist smashed the fire alarm that was sat on the wall to his right.

The bells clattered loudly all around.

Angel jumped with fright.

‘Shit!’ Jake yelled. ‘We have to go, this instant.’ He grabbed Angel and pushed her away.

‘No, I’m not leaving him.’ She tried to get back, but Jake was too forceful.

‘He’s ill, he doesn’t remember us.’ Jake kept pushing. ‘We need to get Jeremiah out.’

Angel looked over at Yanto who was still stood against the wall, staring at his bloodied hand.

‘Now!’ Jake screamed, and virtually dragged Angel away.

‘I can’t leave him. We need to get him out.’ She tried to push Jake back, grappling with his arms.

‘For fucks sake.’ Jake held Angel’s face. ‘We need to go; we have to leave him.’ He then shook her physically. ‘Angel, we need to go, now.’

He then dragged her back to Roger and Jeremiah.

The trio picked Jeremiah out of his wheelchair and vacated the huge base. When they reached the top of the hill and looked back all the figures had gone. Two of the Purebloods were inspecting the hole in the fence, pointing their guns to the woods on the opposite side of the small valley.

‘We gotta get out of here. This place will soon be crawling with white overalls.’ Jake saddled up. He looked over at Angel; she was visibly shaking.

What was Yanto doing in there? Why hadn’t he recognised them?

Maybe, when they get Jeremiah back to Old Mill, he might have some of the answers. For now, they just needed to get out of Dodge.

***

Waters jumped out of the helicopter. ‘It’s a Super Sea Sprite. Ex Royal navy, New Zealand markings though. How it got here? Who knows? ’

‘Can we use her?’ Willoughby asked.

‘Absolutely. It has a GET58 engine. You can use jet fuel.’

‘Brilliant.’ Willoughby now knew the find of aviation fuel wasn't in vain. ‘Can you fly one of those?’ He asked Waters.

‘I have never flown one of these exact models. But yes, I can take her up.’

‘Fill her up Travers.’ Willoughby ordered his newly promoted right hand man. ‘Waters will take us for a little ride.’ He patted the newly appointed pilot on the back. ‘This could be the answer to all our prayers.’

Waters gently pushed the cyclic stick forward as the Sea Sprite whizzed above the fields. Tilting the control to the left, the helicopter manoeuvred towards the river Severn.

‘This is the way to travel.’ The Doyen, sat next to Willoughby, gazed out as they passed over the M4 motorway.

‘I bet you’re glad you made it now?’

‘It was touch and go. Clearing out the Cotswolds has been harder than first thought. We could really do with some more bodies on the ground.’

Willoughby rubbed his chin. ‘This problem down at Taunton hasn’t helped.’

‘Indeed. Why hasn’t it been sorted?’

Again Willoughby felt nervous. He didn’t have the answers that the Doyen wanted. ‘Nobody knows why it happened. Nobody knows how it happened.’

‘I thought that girl was on the case?’ The Doyen sat back in his seat. ‘Davis, is that her name? I hear she is quite the enforcer.’

‘Unfortunately she drew a blank.’ Willoughby fingered his collar as the cold sweat on his neck itched. ‘I was a bit disappointed to be honest. I’m sending another team down, maybe they can get some results.’ He looked across to Chris Travers, who sat silently opposite.

The Doyen nearly leapt out of his seat. ‘Jesus, look at that.’ He pointed to the now fallen Severn Bridge.

Underneath the helicopter, the vast site of destruction took on a whole new view.

‘Look at the rubble. Look how much has travelled down estuary.’ The Doyen had his face up against the window.

Chris Travers had heard about the bridge collapsing, but hadn’t seen it. He gazed down in wonder at the gap where the bridge once stood. He shook his head.

‘Over there!’ Willoughby yelled, making Travers jump.

About a mile in from the bridge, on the Welsh side of the border, hundreds of infected humans were moving on mass to the second crossing.

‘What are they doing?’ Willoughby asked.

‘It looks like a migration; they look like a herd of Wildebeest.’ The Doyen moved from one side of the helicopter to the other as they passed over them.

‘Can we use this to spray out the Norovirus?’ Willoughby tapped Waters on the shoulder.

‘Can’t see why not sir.’

‘It wouldn’t take much.’ Travers interjected. ‘Drone helicopters are used all the time.’

‘Why don’t we use those?’ The Doyen asked.

Travers looked at Willoughby for an answer, but he stayed silent.

‘I suppose we have this now.’ The Doyen patted the helicopter seat.

‘I’m sure we can find a few more to use.’ Willoughby suddenly found his voice.

‘And we have this man here to train some more pilots up.’ Travers placed his hand on Waters shoulder.

Waters had to fight every nerve ending in his body not to shrug the hand off. He had seen him take Emma Davis’s position as Willoughby’s right hand person over the past two days.

A crackle on the handset in the Doyen’s pocket stopped the conversation.

Pulling it from his jacket, he clicked down on the two way radio receiver. ‘Yes?’

Willoughby looked down to the ground, and back over to Bristol. The voice on the other end of the radio was back in the city.

‘Okay.’ The Doyen started quite calmly. ‘How did this happen?’

He then became slightly more animated. ‘This was last night?’ He then punched the side of the metal door. ‘And why didn’t anyone tell me last night?’

He then lost his temper. ‘For fucks sake, how did this happen?’ He went to stand up, but realised there wasn’t the head room. ‘I want these fucking people tracked down. I want them crushed.’ He then flung the hand receiver at the opposite set of seats, narrowly missing a ducking Travers. ‘The cunts!’ He screamed, spittle filling the air.

‘What is it?’ Willoughby hadn’t seen the Doyen lose his usual calm and composed demeanour.

‘The cunts!’ He shouted again through gritted teeth.

‘What?’ Willoughby was now concerned. ‘What is it sir?’

‘Some snatch squad have broken into the Taunton base and removed that farmer.’

‘Farmer?’ Travers asked.

‘He was involved with the removal of the infected prisoners, along with the female doctor.’ Willoughby answered the question quickly.

‘I want them dead.’ The Doyen slammed another fist into the seat. ‘Track the cunts down and kill them.’

Willoughby looked at Travers. ‘That’s your next move.’

Travers nodded back. ‘Can we use this?’ He tapped the side of the helicopter.

‘You can use whatever the fuck you like.’ The Doyen sat back down and wiped his chin. ‘Just find them and kill them. Use whoever, and whatever, you want.’

Willoughby leant over to Waters. ‘Take us back to Filton. We have a busy time ahead.’

Waters twisted the cyclic stick to the right, and the helicopter swung away from Wales and the smashed up bridge. He knew a hunt was on the cards. Perhaps this was Davis’s way back into Willoughby’s good books. He needed to get in contact with her.

‘This land is pretty bleak, isn’t it?’ Naomi Hardcastle surveyed the skyline.’ Hills, a few trees but not much else.’

‘Don’t you like the countryside?’ Harry James asked.

‘Nah. It’s overrated.’

The two had been out patrolling for nearly two hours. There was no sign of life. Not even a rabbit; they usually saw plenty of rabbits.

‘I love it, the fresh air.’ He took in a large lung full. ‘No smells, pollution, people bumping into you.’

‘No smells?’ Naomi looked down at the tightly knitted grass. Sheep droppings littered the ground like small black ball bearings. ‘Yes, very nice.’ She said sarcastically They both walked on for another twenty minutes, before deciding to turn back to Old Mill.

‘Is there any point in this patrolling malarkey?’ Naomi kicked the dust off the heather as they turned around.

‘Can’t be too careful, can we?’ Harry James spotted some rocks in the distance and stopped.

‘We should be sorting Old Mill out. Not wandering around the moors looking for trouble.’

Harry laughed. ‘You crack me up.’

‘Why?’ Naomi joined in with a giggle.

‘You can blow hot and cold; I never know where I am with you. You see things differently to the others.’

‘Elaborate?’

‘What?’ Harry looked confused.

‘Explain what you mean.’ Naomi huffed.

‘Well you always stick up for me. You can also put the boot in unexpectedly. Plus the others, Roger and Angel in particular, well they always ask for your opinion.’

‘And?’ Naomi felt a bit put out
. Why not include her input?

‘Well, they are both pretty strong willed; they buff up against each other.’ Harry James searched for the binoculars. ‘They both look to you to make the final decision.’

Naomi shrugged. ‘I didn’t really notice. I like to be involved though.’ She pulled the binoculars from her back pack. ‘Angel had enough on her plate before Old Mill. Lou Pepper to look after, and missing Jake.’ She went to hand the binoculars to Harry James, and then pulled them away last minute.

Harry smiled. ‘You’ve always been good to me.’ He moved a little closer. ‘I thought, you know.’ His words suddenly dried up.

Naomi pulled away. ‘You are not serious are you?’

‘What?’ Harry, slightly embarrassed at her reaction, half turned from her.

‘Nothing can ever happen between us.’ She was mortified he had even thought it. ‘Not after what you’ve done.’

Harry James looked at the ground. He was crestfallen. His thoughts went back to Lonny and Archie. Why had he ever joined forces with them? He never fitted in with them, and now he had the same problem with Naomi and the others.

Naomi continued to rant. ‘I saw everything you did. It was disgusting; my mother was raped and another hanged.’

‘I didn’t rape anyone!’ Harry shouted. ‘I was forced to do the other thing.’ He couldn’t bear to say the word
hang.

‘It was your choice!’ Naomi yelled back. ‘You ran with the pack; you’re even worse than the other two. You’re too gutless to fight for your own ideals. To stick up for yourself.’

Harry James just stood there; he had no answer. Naomi was right. He looked up into the sky. He wasn’t wanted by her, or by any of the others. He had to make a decision; whether to stick or twist?

‘Holy shit!’ Naomi shouted.

Harry spun around to see her with the binoculars held up to her eyes. They were pointed at the rocks in the distance.

‘We have to get back to Old Mill, now.’ Without handing Harry the lenses she pushed past him.

‘Come on!’ She shouted at him. ‘This is deadly serious.’

***

The Doyen patted Chris Travers on the shoulder. ‘Chris here will take the land vehicle, whilst Waters takes the helicopter.’

‘A blitzkrieg?’ Willoughby nodded enthusiastically.

‘Sort of.’ The Doyen walked over to Emma Davis. ‘You travel with Travers, report everything back to Willoughby.’

‘Understood sir.’ She looked over to Waters. It was only his quick thinking that had got her onto the search team. It had taken her twenty fours to get down to Bristol, but it was a trip worth making. Otherwise she knew she would have been left in the cold.