The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (22 page)

He fell to his knees on the small patch of grass opposite the large court yard. With his head in his hands he started to sob uncontrollably.

‘Pick him up.’ The Doyen ordered one of his henchmen to assist the doctor. ‘And give him some of this.’ He handed the burly man a bottle of unopened water.

The Doyen turned back to one his trusty lieutenants. ‘I think our doctor has just done his morning rounds.’

‘What the hell have you done?’ Doctor Roberts shrugged off the unwanted attention of the henchman and staggered over to the Doyen.

Another shaved headed Pureblood walked forward, to stop his path to his leader.

‘It’s okay.’ The Doyen motioned him to let the doctor pass.

‘It’s not okay.’ The doctor spat. ‘You have killed children, murdered them.’

The Doyen took a step towards the doctor. ‘Calm yourself man.’

‘How can I!’ Doctor Robert screamed, waving his arms about. ‘Innocent men, women and children. All dead!’

‘They were of no use to us.’ The Doyen answered calmly.

‘What!’ The doctor yelled, not quite believing what he had just heard.

‘Taunton is to be closed. Only the fit and healthy will leave; those ready to fight.’ His steely eyes looked the doctor up and down. ‘Are you fit to fight?’

‘Closed down?’ The doctor’s head was spinning. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s of no use to me anymore. We need to obliterate the infected from the south and push on. This base is now obsolete.’

The doctor looked around the courtyard. There was a mix of Pureblood and patients. He recognised some of them, Leila K being conspicuous by her absence.

‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘What?’ The doctor counted about fifty men and women all in white overalls. Most were carrying weapons.

‘Are you fit to fight? Think about your answer doctor, don’t disappoint me.’

The doctor stayed silent. The man stood in front of him was obviously mad. Was he about to upset him though?’
No. ‘
What are you going to do?’

‘We head south to Devon; there we wipe out the last of the infected. We also bring to trial the treacherous ones.’

‘Treacherous ones?’ The doctor asked.

‘The farmer and his accomplices. They have caused most of this disruption, and they will pay.’

Doctor Robert noticed the large Welshman stood near the front, holding a rifle. ‘He’s not fit to fight. For fucks sake, he’s only just come out of intensive care.’

‘I will decide who fights.’ The Doyen’s patience was wearing thin. ‘Are you with us, or not?’

The doctor had no choice. Kill or be killed.

‘I’m in.’

***

Emma Davis kept low as she crawled closer to where she last spoke to Waters. Most of the infected had gone back to the rocks, but a few stragglers were still sifting through the wreckage of the helicopter.

Waters was nowhere. Not even a carcass remained.

Davis’s hands twitched, she had to fight every nerve ending in her body. All she wanted to do was take the few remaining Infected out with her gun. She knew that would be futile though. The others would hear the shots and screams; the place would soon be crawling with naked filth.

She knew she had to bide her time and wait for the cavalry to arrive.

She spent the next ten minutes dragging the limp bodies of Gilman and Travers to as near to the infected as she dared.

She knew the smell of flesh would do the rest. Just to make sure, she took out her knife and opened up each of their throats. The earthy scent of pure blood would be too much for the naked animals.

Davis slid back, and retreated to her makeshift camp on the higher ground a mile to the east.

Only an hour earlier she had spoken to the Doyen. His good mood, when told of Willoughby’s demise, was soon soured with the news of the Infected and their rampage through the night.

She was marooned. Surprised at the way the Doyen had promised to amass a small army, to rescue her. That only cemented her belief in the Pureblood movement.

She also knew that he was going to strike at the naked filth hard. He wanted all of them dead.

Would he stop at that?

Davis wasn’t sure. They had found the renegades hideout, and in her mind now was the time to strike.

Kneeling down, she surveyed the skyline with her field glasses. The rocks at Haytor were now crawling with infected humans. They looked like ants crawling over one another, some fighting and some fornicating. It made her sick to the stomach. They all needed to be burnt, the whole country needed to be cleansed from this half human crud.

Moving away from the rocks, Davis scanned further west. She nearly missed the figures as they were so small, but it was a glint that gave them away.

Two figures moved quickly along the horizon. Below, three more were heading to what looked like the rocks. That was when the glint caught her eye.

Was it a watch? It could have been anything, but whatever it was gave their position away.

Davis sat there tracking their every move.

‘I spy with my little eye.’ She mumbled to herself. ‘Something beginning with R.’

‘Did you see that?’ Angel held Jake’s arm to stop him from walking.

‘What?’ Jake looked around fearing the worst.

‘A flash of light.’

‘Which direction?’

Angel jumped, and excitedly tugged her boyfriend’s arm. ‘There.’ She pointed. ‘It happened again, a flash of light.’

Jake strained his eyes, but could see nothing. He shook his head. ‘Come on, we need to press on.’

‘You don’t believe me do you?’ Angel was a bit put out.

‘Yes, absolutely, but we need to get to the rendezvous point.’ Jake picked up the pace.

‘It was pretty pointless, splitting up.’ Angel caught up with Jake. ‘Safety in numbers I say.’

‘I agree, but.’ Before he could continue, Angel cut him dead.

‘But, here we go. Just because your boyfriend thought it was a good idea, doesn’t mean you have to run along with it.’ Angel smirked.

‘That’s a crazy thing to say.’ Jake laughed. ‘All I was saying was I agree with you, it is safety in numbers. But.’ He paused as they both looked at each other smiling. ‘We didn’t know what was out here did we? So two parties are better than one. If one passage to the rocks is dangerous, then the other party can provide safe passage.’

‘Hmmmm.’ Angel wasn’t convinced. ‘I still think you two are like little boys sat at the back of class. Stick up for each other, whatever the consequences.’

‘Get down.’ Jake’s whole demeanour changed as he went deathly serious. He pulled Angel to the floor with him.

‘What?’ She whispered.

‘Someone is following us.’ Jake slowly turned himself around in the long grass. He pointed in the direction he had heard the noise.

Angel slowly popped her head above the tall blades of grass. Jake was right, someone had been following them.

***

‘Cover that up.’ Naomi snapped at Harry James. ‘That’s the third time I have told you about your wristwatch glinting in the sunlight.’

‘Sorry.’ Harry James pulled the sleeve of his jacket over the cuff of his sweatshirt.

‘Why the fuck are you wearing it anyway? Time has no meaning anymore. We just go by sunlight.’ Naomi pointed upwards, as if Harry James was too stupid to understand.

Roger listened to the two youngsters intently. Naomi was right. Time didn’t have much of a meaning anymore, not hours and minutes. They were basically governed by sunlight. Its light, you wake up and tend to the land and animals. It’s midday, it’s time to take a break and eat. It’s dark, time to sleep, it really was that simple. Roger even quite liked the simplicity of it.

In front of the three, the rocks of Haytor loomed. The rendezvous point was only a twenty minute walk away. Then they had to decide what to do.

Their armoury wasn’t great. Roger had a shotgun with plenty of ammo, Naomi had an air pistol and Harry James an air rifle. The air guns were okay against infected humans, but pretty ineffective if fighting fit adults were wearing combat clothes.

Jake had an automatic pistol, plus an air rifle and Angel had the second shot gun. This had been sawn off for close combat. Roger had found the sawn off in a van parked up in Trago Mills shopping centre, near Newton Abbot.

They had left Jeremiah with the third shot gun, but that was basically it. Whoever had said Britain was awash with guns had been very much mistaken. The gang had searched a thirty mile radius, and that’s all they had found.

Roger was under no illusion though, that if it had been London or Manchester the results would have been a lot different.

‘For fuck’s sake Harry, your watch!’ Naomi’s shout made Roger turn around.

‘What’s up?’ He asked.

‘It’s that bloody huge chunk of chavvy bling he has on his wrist, the sunlight keeps catching it.’ Naomi huffed. ‘It’s going to give our position away.’

‘Alright, alright. Harry complained. He tugged at the metal strap and took it off. With a mighty throw he chucked the watch into the long grass, thirty or so meters away.

‘A bit of an overreaction, but I’m happy now.’ Naomi turned and smiled at Roger.

Roger started to walk once more. ‘Come on, not long now.’

Not long till what?
Harry James thought to himself.
More talking?
He hated Lonny Gold and what he had turned him into, but at least he was a man of action. All this lot wanted to do was talk, plan and talk, talk and plan. In his mind, the infected needed to be taken out. Now was the ideal opportunity. He didn’t care if his thoughts were going to upset Angel or Jake; he was going to air them.

The long term safety of Old Mill meant
NO
infected; they had to be eliminated from the equation.

As simple as that.

***

Emma Davis shook the Doyen’s hand. ‘Thank you sir, you have saved my life.’

The Doyen looked over Davis’s shoulder at the carnage left by the infected. ‘Not much left of the helicopter?’

‘No sir, or Waters I’m afraid.’

‘The others?’

Davis hadn’t told the Doyen she had killed Gilman and Travers. He didn’t need to know. ‘They copped it too I’m afraid. I tried to save them, but it was too late.’

She fiddled with the zip on her jacket, but quickly remembered what she had learnt about body language. She took her hands away and shoved them in her pockets. ‘It all happened so fast. By the time I had seen to Willoughby, well the infected had struck.’

The Doyen turned his head to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation. The last thing he wanted was to anyone to hear Willoughby’s demise had been planned.

‘Okay, understood.’ He turned to look at the small army assembled on the moor below. ‘It’s time to wipe this fucking scum from our planet.’ He told Davis. ‘Good people have died. My plans have been put on hold, but it’s now time to get this movement back on track.’

‘There is something else, sir.’ Davis handed the Doyen her field lenses.

‘What?’ He really didn’t have time to mess about looking at the landscape.

‘Over there, sir.’ She pointed to where she had seen the glinting light. ‘Unidentified people, walking towards the rocks.’

‘Infected?’

‘No sir, they were clothed and they knew exactly what they were doing.’

The Doyen scanned the horizon, but nothing was there. ‘Can’t see anyone.’

‘They are there sir. There is no doubting that.’

‘Do you think it’s the renegades?’ He handed Davis back the binoculars.

‘I’m certain of it.’ She placed the lenses back into her pocket. ‘The direction they were coming from coincides with the direction we spotted the children at the house.’ She pointed to the West.

The Doyen grinned. ‘Bingo.’

‘My thoughts exactly sir.’

‘All the rotten eggs in one basket.’ His thoughts turned to the breakout at Taunton. ‘Bastards, messing with my plans. They are spoiling all our good work. We are ridding this land of this cancerous tumour. We are the real heroes, the warriors of this country.’

‘I concur, sir.’ Davis was ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with her leader, and fight to the death.

‘Let’s do this.’ His icy glare seemed to suit his pale skin. ‘The time has come.’

Davis followed the Doyen down the hill towards the gathered band of Purebloods.

The driver of the four wheel truck asked, as he held the door open for his leader. ‘Are we heading for those rocks, sir?’ He pointed at Haytor.

‘Well I can’t see any other rocks.’ The Doyen snapped. ‘Of course those fucking rocks you idiot.’ He got into the back of the double cab truck, slamming the door before Davis could get in. The truck then roared into life and pulled off.

Davis looked around.
How the hell was she supposed to get there?
Apart from the Doyen’s truck, there were about five large transit vans and a seven and half tonne truck. All seemed to be packed to the rafters.

After the dawn rescue, she now felt slightly crestfallen. The Doyen kept giving off mixed signals.
Was she in. Or was she out?
Her thoughts turned to Willoughby. She had just murdered him in cold blood by the orders of the Doyen. He had been his number two, his confidante.

Was she in line to be the number two?

Could she be slotted by the next up and coming go-getter?

Davis knew she wasn’t just skating on thin ice. She was bloody jumping up and down on it.

Then out of the dust, which was now swirling around Dartmoor due to the convoy, a motorbike appeared.

‘Jump on, Ma’am.’ A young man of about twenty two rode up to Davis and stopped.

She recognised the youngster, but didn’t know his name. ‘Thank you.’

‘I was asked by the Doyen to pick you up.’ He revved the bike as she slid onto the back of the leather seat.

Davis smiled to herself.
Perhaps she hadn’t fallen out of favour with the Doyen after all.

‘Get over to those rocks.’ She shouted in the rider’s ear. ‘And make it sharpish.’

***

‘Are you mad?’ Angel felt like sending Jeremiah straight back to Old Mill. ‘You could have collapsed trying to reach us. We wouldn’t have known where you were. We could have fucking killed you!’