The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (3 page)

Amber was becoming immune to corpses being opened up on the pavement before her. In fact Jake himself seemed to be more effected by the whole breakdown of society and the constant vision and smell of death. Amber’s innocence was now lost, she had already adjusted.

The two of them continued to walk wearily down what must have been the main high street. Jake noticed a road sign, it read Saint Mellons. He had heard of it but had never been through it.

Saint Mellons was the main town that joined the two cities of Newport and Cardiff. He stopped and looked around; he was fed up with walking. He looked down at his daughter; she was in a worse state. Enough was enough. He needed to find a mode of transport.

Jake had so far avoided doing this as it meant going into garages and near houses. That disturbed the Infected, and with Amber at his side he didn’t want to take any chances. The time had come though. If they were to get to Swansea, and ultimately Old Mill Cottage, they needed a ride.

Holding Amber’s hand as they hopped from house to house, all he came across were cars empty of fuel. Either they had run dry or someone had syphoned the last dregs from each tank. It was no use, he was going to have to look a little deeper.

Walking down a small Cul-De-Sac he picked on the biggest house, which lay at the end. Opening the wrought iron gate he walked precariously up the block paved drive.

‘Are we going to have some lunch, Daddy?’ Amber pulled at his hand as she was dragging her feet.

‘No sweety, we are looking for a nice comfortable car.’

‘Oh yes, I like cars.’ She suddenly picked up her pace.

Stood in front of them both were two large wooden doors which led into a big double garage. There was bound to be something in there for them, Jake felt lucky.

‘Daddy, I can hear noises.’

Jake dreaded a statement like that. He stopped walking so he could listen out.

‘Over there, Daddy.’ Amber whispered, and pointed to the house next door.

She was right. The curtains were twitching, and Jake could make out hands being pressed against the window. The movements were sporadic and clumsy; it could be only one thing.

‘Shall we help them, Daddy?’

‘No. Stay with me.’ Jake yanked her close to him, forgetting how his little girl had survived a week outside on her own.

Pulling at the doors they wouldn’t open. He kept tugging and he could see the bolt starting to buckle. With every heave Jake kept looking over at the window where the knocking was coming from. It then stopped.

With an almighty creak the large wooden doors broke open, and both Jake and Amber were left staring into a big empty garage.

‘For fuck’s sake.’ The disappointment got a hold of Jake and he forgot his daughter was stood next to him.

‘Daddy!’ Amber wasn’t impressed with her father’s language.

‘Sorry Barnacle. I will wash my mouth out, if I can actually find any soap.’

As the dust settled both of them took a few paces forward, and walked into the damp dark garage.

‘Over there, Daddy.’

Jake instantly thought the neighbour had broken free from the house and was heading their way, so he spun around to confront him.

‘No Daddy, over there.’ Amber tried to man handle her dad back to face the garage.

‘What?’ Jakes heart was pounding.

‘There.’ Amber was becoming increasingly frustrated with her dad.

Over in the corner, under a dust sheet, was something big. Big enough to be a vehicle.

Jake ran over and ripped the white cloth from whatever lay underneath.

‘A motorbike!’ Amber shouted, and started to jump up and down.

‘A motorbike.’ Jake wasn’t so enthused. The last time he had ridden one must have been fifteen years ago. This machine certainly didn’t look like the 125cc he had owned back in the day.

‘Can I drive it?’ Amber ran over to the gleaming machine and stroked the leather seat.

‘No.’ Jake laughed. ‘You may certainly not.’ The keys were in the ignition, it was too good to be true. Jake felt as though someone was looking out for them.
He liked to think it was his mother.

A noise came from outside and Jake knew they needed to leave fast. He quickly took the Suzuki Bandit off its stand and moved it back and forth; the tank was quite full.

‘Jump on the back and hold on to me as tight as you can.’ He grabbed Amber by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. ‘Are you listening to me? You hold on and you never ever let go.’

‘Yes sir.’ Amber saluted her daddy.

Both jumped onto the bike and Jake turned the key. The noise was unbelievable and that was the first thing that concerned him. This beast may get them to Swansea in an hour but it was certainly going to give their position away to anyone that cared.

Releasing the clutch the bike lurched forward, and Jake ever so carefully twisted the throttle.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Jake gasped as the bike shot forward, and before he knew it he was going up the gears and out of the Cul-De-Sac. The speed was breath taking.

‘Woooohooooo!’ Amber hollered as she held on to her daddy for all her life.

‘Don’t let go, Barnacle.’ Jake turned his head and shouted back to his daughter.

Then he twisted the throttle once again and they were off, Swansea bound.

***

Jeremiah Rosser looked out of the window into the dark evening sky. Both he and Sharon Gough had been waiting in the cold, damp, uninspiring corridor for over an hour.

‘What the hell do you think this is all about?’ The young woman asked.

Jeremiah paused before answering, pondering the question. ‘Fascists?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The way they dress, the shaven heads. Like a fascist party. They even have a leader with a given name. The Doyen.’ Jeremiah moved away from the window. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘I can understand them all dressing the same.’ Sharon stood a little closer to the old farmer so no one could over hear their conversation. ‘It’s the same in any army. Under attack they are easily spotted.’

Jeremiah frowned, she had a point. ‘Guns, there are so many guns.’

‘I wish we had more guns back in York. Don’t you?’

Jeremiah nodded.

‘The world has changed; guns are now part of everyday life.’ Sharon looked at the floor. ‘I don’t agree with that, but you can’t get away from the fact that they’re out there.’ She pointed towards the window. ‘It’s hell on earth.’

A metal door opened at the end of the corridor. A man stood in the doorway and looked at the two survivors stood next to each other.

‘The Doyen will see you now.’

Jeremiah looked at Sharon. He hated being ordered around, especially by someone he knew nothing about.

They both walked up to the doorway where the portly shaven headed man made way for them to enter. Sharon Gough walked into the office first, where the man called The Doyen was sat behind a desk. He opened his hand and motioned to a seat in front of him, Jeremiah followed.

‘Welcome to our Bristol camp.’ He smiled at them both. ‘Miss Gough, they tell me you are a medical worker. Is this true?’

Sharon Gough nodded. ‘Yes. That’s correct.’

‘You have also been working on the blood theory. My advisors say you have come to the same conclusion as my own medical team.’

Again she nodded. ‘Certain blood types have survived, certain types have been poisoned.’

‘I’m aware of the problem, Miss Gough.’ The Doyen tapped his pencil on the desk. ‘I have a proposal for you.’ He looked directly at her; she fidgeted, slightly uncomfortable at the formal tone.

‘I want you to join our medical unit in Taunton.’

‘Taunton.’ She said with surprise, looking at Jeremiah.

‘Yes, Taunton. We need all the help we can get.’

‘What are you doing in Taunton?’ Jeremiah asked,

The Doyen sized up the old farmer. Was it any of his business? ‘And you sir, you are?’

Before he could answer Sharon cut in. ‘Mr Rosser is my assistant.’

The Doyen laughed. ‘Your assistant?’

‘Yes. He assists in all of my work, and knows of everything that I have uncovered.’ She glanced over to Jeremiah and smiled. ‘He has been invaluable.’

The Doyen could see the woman’s devotion to the old man. ‘You would need him with you?’

‘If I decided to go, then yes, he would have to come with me.’ Sharon was insistent.

The Doyen nodded slowly. ‘And what of the others in your party?’

‘Kenny Morris, he was our.’ Jeremiah stopped. Everyone was equal at York, but Kenny was
really
in charge. He held the group together. ‘He was our leader, I suppose.’

The Doyen looked at the other man stood by the door, dressed in his white boiler suit. ‘And the other two.’

‘A man we picked up at Ruddington. There was an army base there, but it got overrun.’

‘By the Infected?’

‘Yes.’ Jeremiah looked downwards. ‘It was pretty grim.’

‘It’s always grim up North.’ The Doyen laughed. ‘That is why we are here. To sort things out, to mop up the streets.’

‘That’s where Mr Morris got injured. He was leading the fight alongside the military. If you can save him he will be a fantastic asset to you. Someone you can work with, he is a natural leader.’ Jeremiah smiled.

‘Yes, I’m sure he is.’ Again he looked at the man standing by the door. ‘We need men like him.’

‘The woman is Mrs Renton.’ Added Sharon. ‘I’m afraid she isn’t in a good way. She was in charge of looking after the children.’ Sharon stopped. She remembered York castle falling, and the horrific scenes she witnessed. She wished she could erase them from her hard drive, wipe it clean. ‘As you can see, there are no children with us now. I’m sad to say it’s taken its toll on poor Mrs Renton.’

‘Very sad.’ The Doyen placed his hands on the desk. ‘Then it’s settled, you will both go to Taunton? Yes?’

Sharon sighed. ‘I suppose we don’t really have an alternative.’

‘Have you come across any other survivors?’ Jeremiah asked. ‘A couple of men and a woman, with a little girl?’

‘The Doyen shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say. We pick people up all of the time. Some stay with us, some go their own way.’

‘Okay, it was just a thought.’ Jeremiah stood up.

‘Do we go now?’ Sharon followed suit. ‘Can we say goodbye to our friends?’

‘I’m afraid they have been taken to our hospital at Frenchay.’

‘You have a hospital up and running?’ Sharon was excited by that news.

‘It’s very early days, but I can assure you your friends are in safe hands.’ He then ushered them both out of the office.

‘Well thank you for taking care of them.’ Sharon Gough shook The Doyen’s hand.

‘My pleasure.’

Another shaven headed man then met Jeremiah and Sharon in the corridor to take them away.

The Doyen closed the door.

‘Where are the other survivors?’ He asked the man who had been standing by the door.

‘They are in the complex. The soldier isn’t going to make it; his wounds are too bad, too infected. The woman is dead. The other two should be okay though, sir.’

The Doyen made sure the door was closed. ‘Take the other two to the dockside and eliminate them. Dispose of the bodies out to sea. Do you understand?’

‘Yes sir, I will do it immediately.’

The Doyen opened the door. ‘Get rid of them. No trace, just like the others.’

‘Of course sir, I understand.’ He was then gone.

***

Angel could see Iris sat on the grass, overlooking the sea. With a heavy heart the group had decided this morning was the time to make tracks. She felt as though she was abandoning Jake, but she also knew they had no other option.

Roger had lightened the truck and calculated they had about eight miles left in the tank. It was time to move out and head south.

‘A penny for them?’ Roger touched her shoulder. He could see she was feeling a bit down.

‘Jake.’ Was all she could reply. She wanted to cry, but that wasn’t her style.

‘He will find us, I know that for certain.’ He squeezed Angel’s shoulder and then let go.

Angel exhaled as if she was releasing all the bad demons. She paused, she wanted to steer the subject away from Jake. ‘You found us.’

Roger smiled. ‘I did. It wasn’t easy though.’

‘You still haven’t told me what exactly happened.’

‘It was pretty shitty.’ He gazed down at the floor. ‘Burying your wife and daughters wasn’t what I had in mind when I set off a month or so ago.’

‘I’m sorry Roger, let’s talk about something else.’ Angel felt bad enough without bringing Roger down too.

‘It’s okay.’ He looked back up and smiled. ‘Really, it’s okay. They are in a better place now.’

‘Do you believe in that?’

‘Not really, maybe. Anywhere is better that here though, isn’t it? Even the bleakness of nothing.’ He shook himself as he shivered. ‘It was only luck that I bumped into Stephen.’

‘The army guy?’

‘Yep. I wouldn’t have made it back otherwise. Apart from the Infected killing everything that moved, the Purebloods were sweeping through too.’

‘Who exactly are they?’ Angel asked.

‘What usually happens when a country is in disarray. A maniac, with ideas above his station, thinks he is God.’

‘Why do people fall for it though?’

Roger folded his arms. ‘Because they want to believe. Desperate people will cling on to anything if someone promises them great things, however absurd.’

‘Iris needs something, or someone, to guide her.’ Angel again looked over at the Irishwoman sat on the grass.

‘We will help her.’

‘I’ve tried.’ Angel whispered. ‘It’s gone beyond that; she blames herself for everything.’

‘We will look after her. We have to stick together now.’

‘What about him?’ She looked over to Harry James, who was now shackled to the truck.

‘He comes with us. Let’s see how it pans out. He’s young and impressionable, perhaps he needs a break.’

‘I’m not too sure about that.’ Angel turned away. ‘I’m going to have a little chat to Iris. Tell her it’s time we all moved south.’

‘Good girl.’ Roger smiled at Angel. There was a time where they could barely stand the sight of each other but their fractured little group had brought out the best in both of them.