The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (18 page)

‘If.’ The Doyen stopped himself. ‘When you find these renegades, the same people undermining our authority, you will take them alive and bring them back to me.’

‘What happens if they fight? If they have guns?’ Waters asked.

‘I want them alive.’ The Doyen started to lose his temper, but composed himself. ‘I’m sure you will find a way.

‘I thought you wanted them dead?’ Willoughby asked. ‘Why the change of heart?’

‘I want to make an example of them.’ He frowned at Willoughby. ‘Put them on trial. Followed by a public execution.’

Davis smiled to herself. That was her kind of plan.

‘Surely it would be easier to just kill them on sight.’ Willoughby continued. ‘Why go to all this fuss?’

‘Because!’ The Doyen yelled. He then composed himself a little. He had been losing his temper too easily lately. Hopefully this would stop soon. He had other plans to deal with. ‘Because I want to be seen to do the right thing. A trial will be legal. We are now the rulers of this land, so we shall act like government.’

‘I agree.’ Travers nodded. ‘It looks like the action of a well organised ruling power.’

‘Exactly.’ The Doyen smiled.

‘Am I flying alone?’ Waters asked.

Willoughby looked over at Waters.
He should learn to shut up, speak when spoken to.

‘Willoughby will go with you.’ The Doyen turned to Travers. ‘Is there anyone else you can trust? We need a few more hands.’

Travers’s heart swelled. The Doyen was asking for his advice. ‘Gilman is a good man. Not the sharpest tool, but a loyal one.’

‘We can’t all be go-getters, Travers.’ The Doyen patted him on the arm. ‘Gilman will ride shotgun in the Sea Sprite. Alongside Waters and Willoughby.’

Willoughby, whose heart had not swelled but shrunk a little, wasn’t really up for a
fight.
‘I’m thinking my qualities would be best served in the Cotswolds sir.’

The Doyen’s eyes narrowed. He liked Willoughby; he did as he was told. He could trust him, his allegiance wasn’t in question, but his intelligence was. Mistakes had been made in the Cotswolds. Mistakes had been made running the Infected into Wales, and not finishing them off. It was time for a cabinet re-shuffle. ‘You will lead the search team. You are the only man I can truly rely on.’ He held Willoughby’s left hand. ‘My friend, you are my eyes and ears.’

Willoughby swallowed hard; he could feel the cold blanket of sweat rise on his back. When The Doyen became personable it licked like a double edged sword. He just hoped he was being grazed by the friendlier side.

The Doyen walked to the exit. He turned and smiled. ‘Good luck. I know you won’t let me down.’ As he turned and entered the corridor he called out. ‘Davis, could you escort me to my vehicle?’

Emma Davis blinked as if she hadn’t heard correctly. She smiled at Waters.
She was back in the game.
‘Of course sir, right behind you.’ With that Davis also left the room.

The Doyen sent his personal bodyguard ahead, to open up the blacked out transit van. He slowed his pace; Davis walked out into the open air beside him.

‘Davis, I have a little job for you.’

Her heart rate rose, she felt honoured. ‘Anything sir, just ask.’

The Doyen stopped and turned to her. ‘If Willoughby had a little
accident
, something subtle, well let’s just say he wouldn’t be that missed.’ He looked Davis straight in the eyes.

Emma Davis’s eyes widened, but she tried not to show too much emotion. She knew he was reading her body language. ‘You want him taken out?’

The Doyen smiled, he liked Davis. He also liked her nickname ‘Leila K’, she had been given by some of the Purebloods. She was cold, she was ruthless.
A sociopath?
Maybe he wouldn’t go that far, but cut-throat none the less. ‘I’m sure you will know what to do, and when to do it.’

‘Okay sir, leave it with me.’

‘Do you trust Waters?’

‘I trust no one.’ Her answer was quick and precise.

Again the Doyen smiled. ‘Good, if you want to use him, it’s your call.’

‘I work alone.’ Davis paused. ‘I will get you the results you need.’

‘Good, good.’ The Doyen started to walk again. ‘We need to be more merciless, we need to move faster, striking harder. I like your style Davis. Keep it that way.’

‘Yes sir.’

The Doyen waved her back to the building. ‘I expect good news on your return.’

‘Of course sir.’ Her heart pounding, Davis jogged back to the reception block. She licked her lips in anticipation. She was aroused, stirred to almost breaking point. Waters, she needed to find Waters, he was the cure to her awakening.

***

‘I still can’t believe it.’ Jake sat back in his chair. ‘Both of you holed up in the same camp.’

Jeremiah was sitting in a big leather armchair; a thick blanket over his legs, sipping his tea. ‘Well I didn’t know the man, he was just a patient.’

‘Was he there when you arrived?’ Angel asked.

‘Yes, and had been for a month. He was in a bad way.’

‘You said he has no recollection of who he was?’ Roger looked out of the patio windows onto the back garden.

‘No, his head injuries were too bad. To be honest, he shouldn’t have survived.’

‘He
was
in a bad way.’ Angel sat down. ‘I can’t believe he survived. I said my goodbyes, it was that horrific.’

The door opened and in walked Klaudia. In both hands she was holding a steaming bowl of soup. ‘I have made you some fish soup.’ She placed it on Jeremiah’s lap.

‘Thank you my dear.’ Jeremiah picked up the big steel spoon.

‘That smells amazing.’ Jake tilted his head forward to take a look.

‘I used the bodies of the, I’m not sure of the word.’ Klaudia snapped her thumb and finger together. ‘Like a crab.’

‘The crayfish?' Roger turned around.

‘Yes, them.’ She smiled back at him. ‘I made a stock with the waste, and some of the vegetables.’

‘What about the meat?’ Jake was worried Klaudia had discarded the best bit of his first catch.

‘I have made a big salad, with some placuszki.’

‘Some what?’ Angel asked.

‘Rice pancakes, a polish speciality.’

Jake stood up. ‘That sounds fantastic, I could eat a scabby horse.’ He lifted up Klaudia’s hand and kissed it. ‘You are welcome to stay forever.’

Klaudia blushed and laughed. Using the blue tea towel she had used to bring the soup in, she flicked Jake’s leg. ‘Stop it.’

Angel looked up at the two of them. She felt uncomfortable with the over familiarity.

Using the last piece of rice pancake left on his plate, Roger mopped up the remaining droplets of sauce. ‘Klaudia, that was a triumph.’

‘Here, here.’ Jake agreed.

Angel held up a glass of red wine. ‘Compliments to the chef.

‘You are starting early?’ Roger asked, noticing Angel had poured herself a drink.

Angel dabbed her mouth with her napkin. ‘I thought such a nice dish needed a glass of wine. It compliments it well.’

‘I concur.’ Jake agreed, and grabbed a glass from the oak dresser. ‘Fill me up.’

‘We have work to do.’ Roger complained. ‘We need to sort the raised beds out, and reset the crayfish traps.’

‘Stop whinging and have a drink.’ Angel offered him the bottle.

All heads turned when the door to the hallway opened and Jeremiah tottered in.

Jake shot out his chair, closely followed by Roger. ‘You should be taking it easy.’

‘I can’t sit in there, I’m missing the wine.’ He smiled at Angel.

‘Sit down here.’ She quickly pulled out a chair next to herself. ‘Here we are.’ She poured him a sizable glass of red.

Jeremiah took a long, slow slurp. He savoured every drop as it danced on his taste buds. ‘Nectar.’ He placed the glass down. ‘Do you want to get your friend back?’

‘Yes.’ Both Jake and Angel answered in unison.

‘We need to move fast.’ Jeremiah put his elbows onto the table and became more serious. ‘If he doesn’t show any signs of improvement then he will be culled.’

‘Culled?’ Roger edged his seat closer to Jeremiah.

‘They will use his blood.’

‘What?’ Angel’s eyes widened.

‘They will drain him of his blood. The Purebloods, they are stock piling it.’

‘Jesus.’ Jake drained his glass.

‘Anyone that is of no use to them or won’t join forces with them,’ He paused. ‘Well, they are taken away and you never see them again.’ He looked at Angel. ‘I fear that is what happened to Ken Morris and the others. They just disappear.’

‘Why keep the blood?’ Klaudia asked.

‘It’s a precious commodity.’ Jake answered. ‘It’s rare.’

‘It is.’ Jeremiah nodded. ‘They are also trying out some experiments.’

‘Oh God, what?’ Angel poured another glass of wine in anticipation.

‘They are trying to transfuse the blood into the infected.’ Jeremiah looked at all the faces around the table. ‘They are trying to create a sort of drone, a slave.’

‘That’s crazy, it can’t work.’ Roger reached for a glass off the dresser. ‘The body would reject it.’

‘Well, they had enough guinea pigs to work on. Until Sharon released them all.’

‘Why the hell did she do that?’ Roger poured himself a small wine.

‘Misguided loyalties. An idea in her head, it’s all very sad.’

Angel held the old farmers hand. ‘You obviously tried to stop her?’

‘Yes, and failed. That’s why the Purebloods think I was a part of the whole escape plan. We came in together and we were very close.’

‘Do you think?’ Angel stopped herself.

Jeremiah gritted his teeth. He shook his head. ‘I can’t see it; the whole plan was a suicide mission.’

The old farmer picked some dried blood from under his thumb nails. His mind went back to the beating he took to protect Sharon Gough.

‘They were also working on a virus.’

‘A virus?’ Roger asked.

‘The norovirus; they are going to spray it over the country.’

Roger’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

‘Apparently some of the infected have caught it naturally, and died.’

‘Really?’

‘It was early stages. The doctor we were assigned to, he was working on it.’

‘Then why try and save them with blood transfusions?’ Angel looked at Jake.

‘Again, that had come to nothing.’ Jeremiah said. ‘For the time being that is.’

‘It’s like the bloody Nazi’s experimenting on the Jews.’ Roger shook his head in disbelief. ‘It’s immoral, sick and immoral.’

Jake blew out a mouthful of air. The tightness in his stomach loosened slightly.
The whole situation in Taunton sounded hideous.
‘We need to get Yanto out as soon as.’

Angel nodded, and winked back at Jake. They were the two that were closest to Yanto. They both knew what a special guy he was.

Sudden the kitchen door burst open, and in ran Naomi and Harry James. Young Red, who had been lying on the mat, scampered under the table with fright, paws skidding on the flagstones.

‘Infected! Lots of them.’ Naomi panted, trying to catch her breath.

‘Where?’ Roger jumped out of his chair.

‘Rocks.’ Harry James too, struggled to speak.

‘Rocks?’ Roger asked with urgency. ‘What rocks?’

‘Big rocks, to the east.’ Naomi stood up straight. ‘Must be fifty, sixty infected. Seem to be congregating there.’

‘What do the rocks look like?’ Roger asked.

‘Big.’ Harry James cut in.

‘How big?’ Roger was losing his patience.

‘Like they don’t belong there.’

‘Haytor.’ Roger spun around to Jake.

‘Yes, Haytor rocks.’ Jake clicked his fingers.

‘Well I wouldn’t go there, whatever it’s called.’ Harry James regained some composure. ‘It’s a no go area. Dead men walking.’

Jeremiah finished his wine. ‘Sharon.’

Angel squeezed his hand. ‘Do you think?’

‘It has to be her work. She was talking about releasing them onto the moor.’

‘We need to see this.’ Roger pulled on his coat.

‘No!’ Angel shouted. ‘We have only just come together.’

‘We need to see what we are up against.’ Roger zipped up his jacket. ‘They could be heading this way.’ He was adamant.

‘He’s right.’ Jake grabbed his coat. ‘The problem won’t go away just by ignoring it.’

Angel sighed. ‘Well if you two are going, then I’m coming too.’

Jake smiled at her. ‘Go and grab the guns.’

Emma Davis looked up through the sunroof of the truck. The helicopter was just about visible through the thin wispy clouds.

For two days the team had been zigzagging across Somerset and Devon. So far the search had been fruitless.

‘Go right at the next junction.’ Willoughby’s voice came through the handset Davis was holding.

‘Did you get that?’ She asked Travers, who was driving the Toyota Hilux.

He nodded to confirm.

The truck took the right hand turn and entered the massive expanse of Dartmoor.

‘Can you see anything?’ Davis asked the crew in the helicopter.

‘Nothing yet.’ It was Gilman who answered.

‘Just sheep.’ Waters shouted.

Davis smiled. She had asked to go up in the Sea Sprite, but Willoughby had wanted her on the ground. The second part of her mission was also on her mind. Willoughby had been good to her, he was a nice man. Now she had to dispose of him. How, and when, she quite hadn’t worked out yet but she knew the opportunity would come. For now she had to concentrate on finding the renegades.

‘Can you see the rocks?’ Willoughby crackled through the radio after twenty minutes of radio silence.

Davis, who had been gazing out of the passenger window, blinked and turned her head. ‘Where?’

She could then hear the noise of the helicopter above the truck.

‘From where you are, about two o clock.’

Davis looked up at the Sea Sprite, and then out of the windscreen and across the moor. In the distance she could just make out a few lumps. ‘There?’ She pointed.

‘Yep, I can see them.’ Travers pulled his visor down as the sun broke through the cloud.

‘We’re going over to take a look.’ Willoughby signed off.

Travers pressed hard on the accelerator to try and race the helicopter.

‘What’s the point?’ Davis sat back in her seat.