The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (4 page)

Iris was tearing at the grass. Pulling out clumps and then tossing them into the breeze. She stared blankly out to sea, the waves hypnotising her.

Angel sat down beside her. ‘You okay, honey?’

Iris didn’t answer, just kept ripping at the blades of grass.

‘We are thinking of leaving soon.’ Angel placed her hand on Iris’s knee. ‘We need to find the cottage in Devon. You can remember talking about Old Mill can’t you?’

Iris slowly turned to face Angel. ‘Leave? We can’t leave.’

Angel smiled softly. ‘We must; it’s the sensible thing to do. To find a permanent place to live.’

‘We can’t leave.’ Iris’s voice grew a little louder. ‘We can’t go yet, they’re not here.’ She started to visibly shake.

Angel assumed Iris was talking about Jake. ‘It’s okay, they will find us.’

Iris shot up. ‘No, we can’t leave. We must stay, I can’t leave them.’

Angel tried to take a hold of Iris’s arm, but she pulled away.

‘No!’ She screamed. ‘I won’t leave Hannah, I promised I would look after her.’ Iris started to stumble, as if she was about to faint.

Angel panicked and looked for Roger, but he wasn’t there. She went to steady Iris, but again she moved away from her.

‘And Alice, what about Alice?’ Tears now dampened her grief stricken face. ‘I can’t find little Alice.’ She started to look around, as if she had just mislaid her.

Angel held out her hands to steady her. ‘Iris, look at me.’ She tried to calm the Irishwoman. ‘We need to find the cottage, somewhere to live.’

‘Hannah, beautiful Hannah. We must wait for her, I can’t leave her.’ Her tears now ran into the mucus streaming from her nose and mouth. ‘We must wait, we can’t leave.’ She began to turn around in small circles like a rabid dog.

‘Iris!’ Angel shouted. ‘Calm down, please.’ Not knowing what to do, Angel tried to snap Iris out of her madness. ‘Hannah and Alice are gone. The beach, do you remember the beach?’

Iris’s eyes widened. ‘Gone, They’re not gone. I have to look after them, I promised.’ She started to laugh manically. ‘They’re not gone, they are here, and I can see them. Look over there.’ She started pointing.

Angel, confused by what was happening, looked to where Iris was pointing, which was directly behind her. She realised there was nobody there, and twisted around back towards Iris, who was still laughing and screaming. The Irishwoman now had her back to Angel, and she was running away from her.

‘Noooo!’ Angel yelled, and ran after Iris.

It was too late. Iris O Neil had leapt from the cliffs of East Quantoxhead, onto the jagged rocks below. Her blood splashed across the stones, and mixed with the frothing surf as it lapped the shore. She was very much dead.

Angel stood on the edge looking down. Dumbfounded at what she had just witnessed, she turned to where the truck was parked.

Facing her was little Lou Pepper, clutching her teddy bear. Angel had nothing to say, she was in a state of shock.

Jake patted the Suzuki Bandit on the leather seat. It had delivered just at the right time.

Looking across the road to the small harbour, he knew now was the time for yet another mode of transport.

‘I’m hungry, Daddy.’ Amber stretched her arms into the air.

This sentence was now becoming familiar to Jake. He had forgotten how much food his growing Barnacle needed to keep her strength up.
Kids and their growth spurts.

They had both spent the night camped next to the bike. Waiting for first light to check out the harbour, Jake also felt some morning hunger pangs.

‘We’ll take a look over there.’ Jake could see a small newsagents on the corner of the road.

Ten minutes of foraging had produced three tins of spaghetti in sauce and some dried noodles. No liquids could be found and this was becoming a worry, they both needed a drink.

‘That’s yummy.’ Amber tucked into the cold pasta with gusto, plunging her plastic fork deep into the tin.

Jake wasn’t so enthusiastic. How he would kill for some egg and chips, or maybe a nice thick pork sausage. He looked at the orange sludge that seemed to be glowing on the end of his plastic utensil.
Beggars can’t be choosers.

‘Are we going on a boat?’ Amber asked.

‘Yes sweetheart.’ Jake looked across at the twenty or so boats moored up in the small harbour. It seemed to be a subsidiary of the much larger Prince of Wales dock.

He quickly discounted anything with a mast. That looked way too complicated. The only vessels Jake had ever been in were a rowing boat and a rubber dinghy. Remembering his last journey under the second Severn Crossing, sailing had gone way down on his list of pastimes.

Any boat too big was also crossed off his wish list. That left about six vessels. All of them looked like the plastic Noddy cruisers that were the weekend play things of the wealthy accountant or banker.

‘Right sweetheart, stick close to me and if you see anything moving you tell me straight away.’ Jake looked into Amber’s eyes.

‘Yes Daddy.’ She saluted

Jake smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Just stick to me like glue.’

Both of them crouched as they ran across the street to the harbour gate. Jake opened it ,and they were soon both walking down the floating planks that lay between the boats.

‘This one.’ Amber tugged her dad’s arm.

‘No sweetheart, it’s too big.’ He slowly walked past another two boats. ‘This one.’

‘That’s small.’ Amber complained.

‘That’s how I like them.’ Jake clambered aboard but it was locked. The shutters were up on the windows and nobody was at home, dead or alive.

Another similar boat was boarded but again it was locked up.

‘Daddy, over there.’ Amber could see a door open on a smaller boat at the end of the boardwalk.

‘Bingo.’ He smiled at his little girl, who was standing next to him as proud as punch.

Jake pulled Amber up onto the deck. He quickly scanned the area, it was eerily silent. Since they had left Newport they hadn’t seen a living thing.

He quickly popped his head into the open hatch, which led to below decks, and the stench that hit his nostrils told him only one thing.

‘Stay here by the door. If you see or hear anything you run down the steps to find me. Okay?’

‘Okay Daddy.’ This time there was no salute. Amber could see how worried her dad was.

Jake slowly descended the steps and found himself down below, where the air was humid and stinking with death.

Walking through the small galley kitchen, he noticed a bottle of wine on the table at the end. More importantly he could see a six pack of unopened bottled water.

As he neared the door at the end of the small corridor, Jake had to put his hand over his nose and mouth as the smell became unbearable.

Pushing the door open he caught a glimpse of a leg. The colour drained from the flesh, it looked like a slab of grey meat. Jake opened the door fully and the full horror lay before him.

His images of wealthy bankers and solicitors quickly vanished as the two lifeless corpses rotting on the bed were, as far as he could make out, a retired couple.

The man of around seventy was bloated, and his stomach had already ruptured; the putrid remains were now seeping out onto the blue silk sheets.

The woman, he assumed the man’s wife, was face down and going green. Jake knew he would have to remove them both before he would let Amber down below to eat, drink and rest. He couldn’t calculate how long the trip would take, and if he could even find his way to another harbour in Devon.

‘Barnacle, get to the back of the boat!’ Jake called out ahead of him, as he dragged the dead fat man through the kitchen.

He could hear her call back, but he was too busy trying to keep the handkerchief tied around his face to reply. Dropping the body onto the floor, he walked up the first two steps. Bending down he grabbed the corpse and started to pull him up the steps. The congealed blood was now running down the side of his mottled skin and onto the floor.

Jake heaved again, and suddenly he flew backwards, banging his head on the final step.

‘Fucking shit.’ He looked up at the evening sky and blinked. The pain in his head was sharp, but short lived. He could still feel the arm he was holding in his hand, but the weight had seemed to disappear.

Looking back down the steps Jake gasped as he realised one of the arms had completely detached itself from the main body.

‘Arghhhh.’ He yelled out, and threw down the dismembered arm. ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit.’ He jumped up, rubbing his hands on his combat trousers.

‘Daddy, are you okay?’

Jake then panicked. ‘Yes, yes Barnacle. Stay where you are. Don’t move.’

Amber started to cry. ‘Daddy I’m scared. What’s happening?’

Jake composed himself, walked around the side of the boat and calmed his daughter down. ‘Just be a good girl and sit here. Please don’t turn around. Daddy’s just cleaning up the boat.’

Amber nodded and kissed her father on the cheek.

Jake took a deep breath. He slowly walked down the stairs and past the body of the old man. He picked up the arm lying on the bottom step. It felt squidgy, he couldn’t look at it.

Sprinting back up the stairs, he got to the deck and hurled the arm over board, watching the splash in the water.

‘Daddy, what was that?’

Jake took a deep breath; the tinned spaghetti was rising in his throat. ‘Still cleaning sweetheart, still cleaning.’

He managed to pull the old guy up to the safety ropes, and using a fireman’s lift he levered the body up and then into the water. Swallowing hard he could feel his stomach swelling. Jake needed a drink of water, but he wasn’t opening anything up until he cleared the boat of anything that was dead.

The bloated woman was slightly easier to move, but her belly opened up and smeared the deck as he dragged her across the well varnished wood. Pushing her overboard, Jake said a silent prayer; he wasn’t a religious man, but he felt leaving them to be fish food wasn’t the most dignified way to be buried.

After a quick clean-up he ushered Amber down below, where they filled their dry throats with fresh water.

‘You tired, Barnacle?’ He asked his daughter, who was looking increasingly weary.

‘A little bit.’ Amber felt so tired that she could sleep for a hundred years, but she didn’t want to let daddy down.

Jake stroked her hair. ‘I know when my little girl is tired. Go and sleep on the couch by the table. We won’t leave the boat till tomorrow; it’s quite safe on here.’

Amber smiled, and kissed her daddy on the cheek. ‘I love you.’

Jake's heart melted, he had travelled hundreds of miles to hear that. ‘I love you too, Barnacle.’

Back up on the deck Jake turned the key, and pressed the big green ‘start’ button. Sure enough the engines roared into life.

Looking at the control panel, he quickly worked out what the two levers were for, and the wheel was self-explanatory. Walking to the back, he hopped onto the wooden board walk and untied the rope. Throwing it back on board, he jumped back on the deck and jogged to the wheel. Pushing up on the chrome lever the boat lurched forward and then slowly moved out of the harbour.

Jake actually smiled, he watched as Swansea slipped past him and he steered the boat into the open estuary, and then the Bristol Channel.
He could get quite used to being a salty sea captain.

Amber was just slipping into a sleep when the boat rocked; she opened her eyes. She realised they must be moving, and that made her feel safe. Now it was just her and daddy. Settling down again she closed her eyes and thought of a massive bar of chocolate. Grandma then came into her thoughts, she missed Grandma. Closing her eyes tight, to get the chocolate back, she placed her hands under her head as a make shift pillow.

Again, she was just slipping off when she thought she could hear a scratching noise. Amber tried to ignore it; she was too tired to care.

The scratching got louder; it was followed by a banging. Amber shot up; she could see a panel in the wall moving.

An almighty scream followed. ‘Daaaaaddyyyyyyy!!!!!!’

Three seconds later Jake shot down the stairs in one stride, and ran to where Amber was sat hysterically crying. He could see her pointing at the wall.

Jake at first missed it, but on closer inspection he could see a small brass handle. The oak style wall was in fact a row of doors and drawers.

Spinning around he grabbed a large kitchen knife, and without fear of his own safety, and the built in instinct to protect his offspring, he opened the narrow door and pounced forward ready to attack.

There was nothing there. Just a mirror with his face staring back at himself.

‘Daddy!’ Amber’s voice was cracking, but softer in tone. ‘Daddy, look?’ She now laughed.

Turning around, his daughter was holding a small dog. He was confused.

‘It must have been trapped in the toilet.’ Amber, now with a beaming smile, cuddled up to the long haired Patterdale terrier.

‘How?’ He looked back into the small bathroom and could see the porthole was open. The dog must have got in and then found itself stuck.

‘Can we keep him?’ The dog was now licking Amber’s face, much to her delight. ‘Please Daddy?’

Jake smiled, more with relief. ‘For now.’ He closed the bathroom door. ‘Has it a name?’

Amber grabbed his collar and felt for a nametag. ‘Yes, I can’t read it though.’ The small dog was moving too fast for Amber to hold the tag still.

‘Let me.’ Jake grabbed the dog by the collar and placed him on the floor. There he held the dog down and twisted the tag so he could read it. ‘Young Red.’ Jake thought that was a silly name, but he could see something inscribed underneath. It was the Liverpool football club emblem. He laughed. ‘This dog is a football supporter.’

‘Give Young Red back, please daddy.’ Amber held out her arms.

Jake placed the mutt back with his daughter. ‘Just try and get some sleep, please.’ He then jogged back up the stairs and onto the deck.

‘Bloody Liverpool.’ He muttered. He was more of a rugby man.

***

Doctor James Robert looked at the lab floor. They had said it had been cleaned up, but he could still see the red smear where the attack took place.