The Dust: Book Three - Sanctum (9 page)

Her face was twisted and tired, her eyes as dark as the night. Opening her mouth wide as she laughed, Jake could see she had no teeth, her gums were red raw and bleeding.

‘Take my hand.’ He couldn’t take his eyes off the bundle of dirty rags, where the baby was now being rocked vigorously as the woman laughed manically.

‘The baby!’ Jake shouted. ‘Think of your child. Please try and calm yourself, you can’t stay down here.’

Meredith stopped laughing. She stood up. Thrusting the child into Jake’s arms, she then spat into his face and ran out of the room.

He went to go after her, but decided to check on the baby first. Holding the rags in his arms he opened up the stained swaddling.

‘Jesus!’ He shouted, dropping the bundle onto the floor. ‘On my God.’ He stumbled back against the wall. The baby was dead, it had been dead for some time and the eyes were missing.

Clasping his hands over his face, Jake started to feel dizzy; he really couldn’t take anymore. He needed to be in the open air. He took a few seconds to catch his breath. He needed to be at the cottage. He needed to be with Angel.

‘At last.’ Angel said, looking out of the farm house window. ‘The rain has stopped.’

Roger shook his head. ‘I didn’t like that. The rain was high in acid, very dangerous.’

‘Are you a scientist?’ Angel chuckled. ‘Did you measure the acid levels?’

Roger chose not to answer. Sometimes Angel liked to dig him out, but this time he wasn’t going to bite.

Angel started to pile the kit bags up in the porch of the front door. ‘Could it be sulphur?’ She turned to look at Roger’s reaction. ‘From the volcanic ash cloud?’

Roger slowly nodded. ‘I’m no scientist, but it sounds plausible.’

‘Well it was irritating the skin, I’ve never heard of acid rain that actually burns.’

‘Now you
are
sounding like a scientist.’ Roger smiled. ‘You could be on to something though. Still, the weather looks to have returned to blue skies.’

‘For now.’ Angel popped her head around the kitchen door and into the hallway. ‘Lou, Naomi, get a wriggle on!’

‘We have lost two days, so it will be good to get back onto the road.’ Roger placed the kettle onto the stove. ‘And with our new found horsey skills.’

‘Equine skills.’ Angel laughed.

‘Indeed.’

‘I just want to get to Old Mill. To see Jake.’ Angel touched her top lip. The more she thought about all they had been through to get to Devon, the more she realised how slim their chances actually were.

‘We will get there, I keep promising you that.’ Roger could see how fragile Angel was becoming.

She exhaled heavily and sat down at the table. ‘What exactly are we doing all this for?’

Roger was quite surprised at the question. ‘To survive, isn’t that our duty?’’

‘For what?’

‘You mean what does the future hold?’ Roger sat down beside her.

Angel nodded.

‘No one can say, I suppose we owe it to ourselves. To our families.’ He paused. ‘To men like Jake, Yanto and old Jeremiah Rosser to keep pressing on. To keep existing.’

Angel looked up. The memories of Jeremiah and Yanto brought a fleeting smile. Roger was right though. However bad things got they must never give up. ‘Sometimes.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Sometimes I think I will never see him again, that this whole journey is pointless. Sometimes I think Iris took the best way out.’ Her hands were now shaking.

‘Iris was ill.’ Roger took a hold of her hand and held it firmly. ‘You are stronger.’ He then played his ace card. ‘Lou Pepper needs you.’

Angel knew this and treated it like a double edged sword. Sometimes she loved the responsibility, and doted on Lou as if she was her own. The time they had spent apart had been a painful one, and she knew that she and Lou were now family with an unbreakable bond.

The other side of the blade was her guilty conscience. She had always been a lone ranger. Only herself to look after, and that’s how she liked it. If she fancied a change of direction, or just pleasing herself, then she could. Lou stifled this, held her back. The weight of responsibility lay heavy on her shoulders and it was something she wasn’t used to.

‘It’s like some horrendous nightmare that you can’t wake up from. It’s been going on for months, but now and again I tell myself that any second now I’m going to wake up.’ She banged her fist onto the wooden table. ‘For fuck’s sake, the whole world has fallen apart.’

‘Angel! Language.’ Lou Pepper reprimanded her surrogate mother as she entered the kitchen.

‘Sorry honey.’ Angel quickly wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to burden Lou with all her anxieties.

‘Are we ready to leave?’ Lou ran over to the window, looking for the horses.

‘Wagons roll I say.’ Roger leapt up with a big smile on his face. He glanced over at Angel, who was now fussing over Lou. He wanted to put her mood down to a bit of cabin fever. They had all been copped up in the farmhouse for two days solid with nothing to do.

However, he knew it was far more than that. He had felt it too.

Dissolution, being lost, loneliness; but the worst of all was a sense of not belonging.

He was part of a small fractured group of survivors, who had been pushed together through circumstance. But none of them really truly knew each other. Not like family or close friends. That came with time, and deep rooted relationships.

What was the alternative? Suicide.

He had thought about that back in Bath, after burying his family; he couldn’t go through with it. At first he thought it was because he was weak. He realised soon afterwards that he owed it to his children to try and make a better life for future generations. He had to keep telling himself that.

‘Where is Naomi?’ Angel asked.

‘Looking for Harry.’ Lou answered.

Angel scowled. Even the sound of his name annoyed her. Now Lou was saying his name as if he was part of the gang, a friend. In her eyes he would never be a part of this family.

The front door slammed, followed by pounding footsteps.

The door flew open, it was Naomi. She was struggling to breathe and she was sweating from her forehead.

‘What’s the matter?’ Roger ran over to her. He tried to put his arm around her but she pushed him off.

‘I’m okay.’ She bent down to take in some air. ‘It’s that little bastard, Harry fucking James.’ Before Lou could complain Naomi apologised.

‘What?’ Angel asked assertively

‘He’s gone, taken two horses.

Angel threw her hands up in the air. ‘I knew it.’

‘Are you sure?’ Roger asked. He was now feeling responsible, as he was the one who wanted Harry James freed. He had felt he was getting somewhere with him, breaking down some emotional barriers. Now he had let him down badly.

‘He just ran out into the field and grabbed them. I was watching him, but it was too late.’ Naomi wiped her brow with her hand. ‘I tried my best, but it was as if he couldn’t hear me.’

‘More like didn’t want to.’ Angel added.

Roger stayed silent.

‘Well that’s it now, we are two horses down.’ Angel slammed the kitchen worktop with the palm of her hand. ‘One horse will have to carry two; shorter days and a longer journey.’

‘Out there.’ Naomi stared out of the window. ‘With all those blood thirsty maniacs running about. That’s all we need.’

Angel looked at Roger.

Roger still stayed silent.

***

Sharon Gough dabbed the cheeks of patient 88. The large Welshman had improved dramatically over the past thirty six hours, and he had opened his eyes and taken on fluids twice. He really did have the heart of a lion and was showing incredible strength.

That couldn’t be said, however, for most of the injured. Five patients had died over last twenty four hours, and three were not going to make it till the end of the day.

Sharon was exhausted, she had been thrown in at the deep end and she was barely treading water.

Jeremiah, of course, had been a great help assisting wherever he could, but his knowledge and skills were limited.

Doctor Robert was also unavailable, as he had been tasked to perform autopsies on infected bodies. These had been found in the Cotswolds and seemed to have died of natural causes.

She wiped the blood from her hands and raised the bed sheet over the face of patient 78. Three on the critical list had now become two.

Jeremiah walked wearily over. ‘We lost another one?’

Sharon nodded. ‘The injuries were too bad. She never stood a chance, and at such a young age.’

‘It’s tragic.’ The old farmer handed Sharon a plastic cup of water. ‘What has become of this world?’

Just as she was going to answer when the doors of the ward flew open, and in ran Doctor Robert. He was beaming from ear to ear and holding a piece of paper.

‘Take a look.’ He thrust it at Sharon Gough.

She unwrapped the crumpled scrap of paper, and written upon it in pencil were three letters. NoV. Sharon looked at Doctor Robert quizzically.

‘Do you know what that stands for?’ He asked.

‘Yes.’ Sharon passed Jeremiah the scrap of notepaper. ‘It’s the Norovirus.’

‘Yes, the Norovirus.’ Doctor Robert’s grin got bigger.

‘I don’t understand.’ Jeremiah looked at both of them.

‘Is this to do with the infected bodies?’ Sharon suddenly twigged what might be going on.

‘Yes!’ Doctor Robert snatched back the scrap of paper. ‘The bodies I have just been tested died of this.’ He jabbed the three letters with his index finger. ‘They died because they contracted the Norovirus.’

‘So we can give it to them?’ Jeremiah Rosser could see where the Doctor was going with this.

‘Yes!’ He shouted.

‘Do we know this for sure?’ Sharon asked.

‘Well I have just infected one of the inmates with it, so we shall find out shortly.’

‘A human guinea pig?’ Sharon was usually against such actions.

‘I’m sure for once my dear, that even you can see the benefits.’ Jeremiah smiled at her.

‘Well we should have the results in the next twelve hours.’ Doctor Robert grabbed himself a plastic cup. ‘And if you two would care to drop by my quarters later, we have something a little stronger than water to celebrate this news.’

Sharon looked around the ward. ‘But we have so much to do.’

‘You two deserve a break. I will arrange some cover for a shift. Please drop by later. We should at least rejoice in the fact that we might be able to wipe out the cancer that sweeps the land killing, so many innocent victims.’

‘Well I will certainly drink to that. ‘Jeremiah held up his cup.

Sharon smiled as the Doctor turned away and left the ward. Her feelings on the subject were a little different. She was all for cure and rehabilitation. If there was only some way of curing the Infected. Behind every pair of bloodshot eyes and snapping teeth was a father, a mother or a child. Wiping them out just meant sweeping it under the carpet. Extermination.

What if her brother or her niece were one of them?

She could see their point. In their infected form they were murderous savages who had committed appalling atrocities. That didn’t mean they were dead though; just sick, out of control.

Sharon would drink with the doctor later, but her work wasn’t done yet. She wanted to find a cure; and then an antidote, however long it took.

***

Roger looked at the farmhouse. He was glad to be leaving, to continue in their quest to find Old Mill Cottage, but it had been a good safe haven for the few nights they had stayed. The building itself would have been ideal for them to set up a permanent base. Land wouldn’t have been an issue as the fields were ready to use.

The main problem was the location. It was far too open; there was no natural shelter whatsoever. You could see the farm from miles around. Plus there had been some sort of unidentified activity. Roger had kept this to himself, so as not to pile even more concern onto a group on the brink of collapse.

Three pigs had been slaughtered and half eaten. He had cleaned that up without anyone knowing. One of the smaller barns had been broken into and trashed. Roger had left this as it was; there was nothing of any value inside. The others had been nowhere near that part of the farm, so it wasn’t an issue.

Was it the infected? Was it a pack of wild dogs? Was it both?

He didn’t know, but he was glad to be moving on. If Jake thought his uncle’s cottage was the ideal place to make home then who was he to argue. Jake had never let him down.

‘Lou Pepper can ride with me.’ Angel walked over and gave Roger another saddle bag for his horse. ‘You’ll be fine; I told you you’re a natural.’ She could see how wary he was about riding.

‘We’ll see.’ Roger replied. He loaded the bag onto the back of the horse. He had decided not to name it; as far as he was concerned it was just an animal.

‘Can I give Tulip some more food?’ Lou was clutching a bunch of freshly torn grass. ‘She looks hungry.’

‘No honey, she’s had enough for now.’ Angel had let Lou name their horse, and Tulip had been christened. The filly had been the firm favourite of the little girl’s affections.

‘What about your horse, Roger?’ Lou walked over to the bigger and darker stallion. ‘Would he like something to eat?’

‘Help yourself.’

‘What’s he called?’ Lou shoved the grass under the horse’s nose.

‘It hasn’t got a name.’ Before Lou could come up with one Roger quickly added. ‘And it doesn’t want one either.’

‘How do you know?’ Lou asked a little put out that he had been so abrupt.

‘It told me yesterday.’

‘Stop calling him it.’ Lou stroked the stallions face. ‘You wouldn’t like to be called
it
.’

Roger half smiled; Lou Pepper was good company, and reminded him of his own little girls. He thought he might struggle to talk with Lou after the untimely death of his own children, but he found her comforting. It was a nice reminder to him, not a haunting one.

‘That’s the last.’ Naomi brought out the final bag of supplies.

‘Not much is it?’ Angel looked at the small bundles of tinned fruit and dry pasta.

‘It’s only going to get worse.’ Roger added.