The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (8 page)

As he bounded towards the old bakery Emma Davis shadowed him, shooting anything with bare flesh that dared to move.

Waters, crouching like a Puma, slowed down as he reached the door. Davis stopped about thirty meters behind him, all her senses honed in on the one building.

He kicked down the door with one mighty boot, and let out a blast from his gun. He disappeared inside, and Davis, her automatic rifle held up so she could see straight down the barrel, followed.

Screams came from the kitchen as Davis entered; one of the Purebloods, who had gone in earlier, was down.

Waters squeezed the trigger and took two infected bodies out. Gliding across the slate floor he clubbed the third aggressor with his gun, the head exploding on impact.

‘Get a medic!’ He shouted at Davis. ‘Man down, abdominal wound.’ He looked back down to his fellow Pureblood. ‘He’s losing too much blood.’

Davis was just about to leave when another two naked females rushed the kitchen from the back door. ‘Get down!’ She screamed.

Waters hit the deck.

A short, sharp blast from the gun and the two advancing bodies flew backwards, congealed blood spraying everything in its path.

Davis, her gun still smoking, moved quickly to the back door. She needed to clear the area.

Kicking one of the heads of the dead as she ran past, she spun out of the doorway, letting off another volley of gunfire. She looked skywards. There was movement on the flat roof.

Feet tapping as she ran up the metal fire escape, she leapt from the top and rolled across the tar and gravel roof. A naked male tried to grab her, but she was too fast. Swinging her leg around to catch his, he was brought crashing down to the sticky surface.

Using her boot, she pressed hard on his throat. This kept him down on the ground. She used just one bullet in the forehead to finish him off.

The fire escape started to tap once more, and Davis took aim, but lowered when she could see it was Waters who had followed her to the sheltered roof top.

‘You okay?’ He asked, wiping blood from his cheek.

‘Of course, it was a good job I was covering you.’ She smiled.

‘You had my back, I’ll give you that.’ He removed his gloves. ‘The all clear has been given. The area is safe.’

‘Damn.’ Davis put her gun down. ‘I was enjoying that.’ She unzipped her overall to let some air in.

Waters laughed. ‘You are something else. I can see you love the thrill of the fight.’

Davis’s heart was still pounding, he was right. She had never felt anything quite like it. Being so close to death but refusing to lie down. It was if you could peer over to the other side, knowing it could be the last minute of your life.

She took a deep breath, she felt exhilarated. It was like every minute on this fucked up planet your senses were magnified.
Live life to it’s fullest. Tomorrow you could be dead.

Waters walked over to her with a swagger; he liked Davis, and she turned him on. He started to smile and gave her a wink.

‘You think you can just take me, do you?’ Emma Davis could see what he wanted and pushed him back aggressively.

‘Anytime I want.’ He unzipped his white overall and walked back towards her.

‘Oh yeah.’ Davis went to slap him. She was loving this feisty foreplay.

Waters stopped her hand and pushed her over to the brick wall. ‘You want it?’ He asked with a steely glare.

‘You haven’t got the tools to do it.’ Davis growled back. Her heart now thumping out of her heaving chest.

Waters pinned her up against the wall and lowered both her hands behind her back. He roughly kissed her neck, licking every inch.

Davis tried to push him away but she was enjoying it too much, it took her breath away.

Waters moved upwards, licking and kissing her chin and then her mouth.

Davis bit hard. Deep into his bottom lip.

Waters moved away and with his index finger touched his lip; blood was on the end of it.

‘Don’t be a pussy.’ Davis grabbed Waters by the back of the head and pulled him back in. ‘Give Mamma what she wants.’

In seconds both pairs of white overalls were lying discarded on the flat tar roof.

The next seven hours were spent sat in the damp cellar, watching the rain water trickle down the stone walls. Rats had started to scurry back indoors, out of the storm. Pip, armed with a small rusty spade, had soon sent them back the other way, only this time three or four down in numbers.

‘Daddy, I don’t like it here. I want to leave.’ This wasn’t the first time Amber had urged her father to move out of the cellar and back up onto the streets.

‘It’s raining sweetheart, we have to wait.’ Jake watched as Meredith nursed her baby, who was wrapped up in dirty rags.

‘Michael’s awake.’ Pip came bounding into the store area. ‘Don’t tell Michael I have given you oranges.’ He got down on his knees and clasped his hands together, as if he was begging. ‘Michael says we must leave the food for the others. Not to waste it.’

Jake looked at the wiry haired old man kneeling in front of him.
Who were the others?

‘Get up Pip.’ Amber didn’t like to see him sat on the damp floor.

‘Yes, don’t be silly.’ Jake grabbed the bony arm and helped the old boy up.

‘Peregrine!’ A big deep booming voice echoed through the cellar.

Pip, agitated by the call, started to stumble about and stutter. ‘He’s awake, he’s a a a awake.’ He was visibly very scared.

‘Calm down Pip.’ Jake went over to him, but the old man backed away.

‘Peregrine!’ This time the voice was louder and the large heavy footsteps drew closer. A long shadow appeared on the wet wall in the candlelight. The figure was tall and round.

Pip started to whimper and looked across at Jake and Amber. Tears welled in his eyes.

Jake could see the old man shaking and he noticed the water trickling down his legs. Pip had wet himself.

‘Get over here you useless bag of shit.’ An apple shot out of the shadows and narrowly missed Pip’s head, smashing against the stone behind.

Pip clamped his hands over his face and started to shake his head. ‘I didn’t give them anything to eat Michael, I promise. I didn’t give them anything.’

The large butcher slowly entered the storeroom. He must have stood at six foot four and weighed around twenty five stone. His bloodied apron was tied tight around his waist and his big hairy hands were closed tight, forming two massive fists. ‘Who the fuck are you talking about?’ His deep West Country drawl stopped as he looked over at the two figures stood to his left.

His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t quite believe Pip had been so stupid as to bring strangers into his cellar.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ Peregrine threw himself at the butcher’s feet, and he clung with all his might to his old black boots.

‘Who are you?’ Michael pointed a large, chubby finger at Jake.

‘Jake Meadows, Sir. And my daughter, Amber.’

The butcher’s eyes looked the little girl up and down, and for a split second a smile adorned his rotund, stubbly face. He kicked out at the pathetic Pip, who was wrapped around his ankles.

‘Get off me, you parasite.’ One boot sent the old man tumbling across the floor.

Jake went to help him. Picking up Pip he looked over to the butcher. ‘There is no need for that.’

The butcher’s face changed.
Who was this intruder telling him what he could and couldn’t do in his cellar?
He withdrew a large carving knife from its leather sheath.

Jake swallowed hard; he had nothing to defend himself with. Everything was in the next room, where he had left it.

‘You have said your last words, boy.’ The butcher edged towards Jake, the huge blade thrust out in front of him.

Amber screamed. ‘Daaaaaddyyyyyyy!’

The high pitched screech made Michael the butcher turn his head, and that’s when Jake struck. Rolling across the floor he slammed into his attackers legs, and that toppled him over. His large knife skidded across the cellar floor into the darkness.

The thud made the whole storeroom shake, and two candles fell from the wall onto the wet floor.

Pip jumped up and down clapping with glee.

Jake picked himself up off the damp floor and pounced onto the back of the butcher as he was slowly getting to his knees.

He hit him with a short, hard jab to the side of the neck, and jammed the thumb on his other hand into the big man’s left eye.

Michael the butcher let out a thunderous yell as the pain from the gouge hit his nervous system. He stood up, thrashing his arms about, but Jake clung on like a cowboy at a rodeo.

Pip started shouting, and ran at the butcher, kicking him hard in the shins. It had little or no effect.

Jake slammed another punch into the butcher’s ribs, and then clamped an arm around his fat neck. He started to squeeze.

The big man tried with all his might to dislodge Jake, but to no avail. The more he fought, the more Jake squeezed and the more tired the butcher got.

Again Jake jabbed his finger into the same eye socket, and this time Michael the butcher fell to one knee. Looking across to find his daughter, Jake couldn’t see her. Amber was now hiding in the shadows, petrified at what was taking place; she prayed for her daddy. Jake knew he needed to end it fast and find his little girl.

Linking both hands to get more leverage, he squeezed even harder and twisted at the same time. The butcher keeled over with a groan. Jake wasn’t sure if he was dead or not, but he wasn’t going to hang around to find out.

Finding Amber in the dark he grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. They both ran into the next room. He wasn’t sure if it was darkness or a trick of the light, but he had entered a place he hadn’t seen earlier. The whole cellar was like a maze.

He doubled back but he got lost again, and was now faced with a big, brown, oak door. All Jake could think about was getting out before the big butcher regained conciseness and came after them.

Laughing came from further down the tunnel, and they could hear Pip singing and clapping as if in celebration.

Jake didn’t like this one bit. He looked down at Amber, who was now terrified. He pulled her closer to him, they both touched the oak.

Should he open the big wooden door?

He felt the cold steel of the large door latch, it was damp. He turned it to the right but nothing happened, so he turned it in the opposite direction. The door was released and it creaked as he slowly pushed it open.

The smell was unbearable and Amber started to cough.

Jake turned his daughters head into his body. Whatever was in this room, he didn’t want her to see it.

He walked very slowly. Using his one free hand to feel his way, he waved it about in the darkness. He wanted to get through this room and out the other side as soon as possible. Jake’s hand touched something clammy; he withdrew it instantly, making Amber jump.

‘What’s wrong?’ She tried to look.

‘Don’t look sweetheart.’ He held his daughters head firm.

He went in a different direction, and could see a small bead of light across the room. Jake headed for it.

His hands hit the wet door hard. He twisted the door handle back and forth, but the door wouldn’t open.

‘God damn it.’ Jake kicked the wood, but it still wouldn’t budge.

Amber started to cry. ‘Daddy, I want to go home.’

Home, where was home?
Jake had no answer to that. ‘It won’t be long.’

He booted the door once again. ‘Come on!’ He shouted, his voice echoed around the pitch black cellar. Jake slammed his fists against the door pounding at the boards. He felt beaten.

Suddenly the door clicked and started to open inwards. Jake stepped back.

The light crept in, dancing its way across the walls, breathing new life into the stench ridden cellar.

Jake held his hand up to his eyes, as the brightness hurt his now dilating pupils.

The voice that came from the doorway he knew all too well.

‘You have set Pip free, Michael is dead. Pip would like to thank you, Mr Jake.’ The crazy old fool had released them both from the room.

Jake opened his eyes, he didn’t know whether to hit or kiss the old man. Before he could speak Pip stopped him.

‘Don’t turn around.’ Pip licked his cracked lips. ‘You won’t like it.’

The words burnt their way into Jake’s brain. Almost like an unhealthy desire to be drawn to doom, Jake could feel himself turn around to face the cellar. He opened his eyes.

He shot back, pushing Amber behind him. He could hear himself scream, he had no control over it.

‘Pip told you not to look.’ Now wearing an old, heavily stained loin cloth, he pushed past Jake and slammed the door shut with a thunderous thud.

Jake slid down the wall, clutching his daughter as he slumped onto the damp cobbles.

There must have been twenty, twenty five of them. All hanging upside down from rusty butchers hooks. Their arms, stiff with rigor mortis, were only inches from the floor. The tops of their heads had been cut off and their brains removed. Jake got all this from the few seconds he had dared to look into the forbidden cellar.

He looked down at his boots; they were stained with blood. The cellar floor was awash with the blood of humans. Men and women, all scalped.

Jake jumped up. ‘Let us out.’ He looked straight at Pip, who was grinning and stroking his beard. ‘Let us out!’ He now screamed at the deranged old fool, about to grab him.

Pip jumped back. ‘Follow me.’ He scampered past them both and back up the corridor.

He led them through the narrow alley way, passing the fallen body of the butcher.

‘Wait.’ Jake ordered Pip.

‘Stay here, don’t move.’ He placed Amber by the entrance and kissed her on the forehead.

He went back into the storeroom to collect the rest of his belongings. He was just about to leave when he could see the woman sat in the corner, nursing her baby.

He walked slowly over to her. ‘Meredith?’ He thought that’s what Pip had called her earlier. ‘Meredith, you don’t have to stay here.’

The woman lifted her head up to face Jake. She started to laugh, quietly at first but it soon became louder and more moronic.