Death is a Welcome Guest: Plague Times Trilogy 2

by Louise Welsh

  Magnus said, ‘What about Cherry’s medical records? Didn’t they show she might be suicidal?’

  Jeb’s eyes met his. ‘I already told you. She wouldn’t go to the doctor. Even I didn’t realise how far gone she was. If I had I would never have told her the truth.’ Jeb stared at the ceiling. ‘Andy Cruikshank was a star witness. All that fire and hatred made him seem righteous. I was a proven liar and he was a man of principle. Other witnesses for the Crown were a ramshackle lot. Junkies, hippies, the usual losers who end up in these squats, but Andy was good. He wore a suit and tie to court and he repeated his version of what had happened over and bloody over, until even I almost believed it.’

  Magnus said, ‘But he was lying?’

  ‘Yes, he was fucking lying.’ The warmth was back in Jeb’s voice. ‘I’ve just told you God’s honest truth and if you don’t believe me you can go to hell.’

  Magnus said, ‘I believe you.’ He heard his father’s voice, Never trust a liar, son, never trust a liar. ‘Of course I believe you,’ he repeated.

  Twenty-Seven

  They set out in an open-topped truck, Jacob at the wheel, Magnus and Will squeezed into the cab beside him. Belle sat in the back, her face shaded from the sun by a wide-brimmed straw hat Father Wingate said the abbot would have wanted her to have. Raisha had not appeared and they had left without her.

  ‘She goes off on her own,’ Belle said as they walked across the yard of a farm Magnus knew was too industrial in scale for them to manage, but which might have some useful equipment smaller farms could not have afforded to invest in. ‘She misses her children.’

  Will and Jacob were a little ahead, both of them with rifles slung across their backs. Magnus had been musing on the weapons Jacob had confiscated at the scene of the crash and had not yet returned. He wished Belle would leave him alone, but he said, ‘Of course she does.’

  He and Raisha had not used any protection. The sweats had made HIV look like a joke, but there were other reasons why people did not use contraception.

  Jacob glanced back at them. ‘What do you think?’ Even when he was asking a question the priest’s voice held an edge of command.

  ‘It’s big enough to have its own combine. We should check these sheds.’ Magnus pointed to a series of flat-roofed buildings that looked more suited to a factory than a farm.

  Jacob nodded. The day was warm, but he was still wearing his combat jacket. ‘Stay close. You don’t know who might be around.’

  Now was the moment to ask for his gun back. Magnus tried to frame the words. The sun seared his eyes, blinding him for a moment.

  Belle said, ‘She goes into empty houses looking for children.’

  Magnus glanced at her. The girl had tucked her hair inside the hat, which lent her a Huck Finn prepubescent look. Her nose was freckled and she might have been a boy.

  Magnus said, ‘Raisha?’

  Belle nodded. Her features were lost and revealed again, as the shadows thrown by the hat brim advanced and then receded.

  ‘At first she thought she would find one alive. There must have been children who survived.’ Belle looked up at him again, her eyes wide with the horror of it. ‘But they might have been too little to manage on their own.’

  Magnus had not been able to forget the body of the toddler that had somehow fallen to its death. It had looked unmarked, like a large doll abandoned on the pavement, except for the bloom of blood around its head.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It must have happened.’

  ‘Raisha was obsessed by the idea. She started off by looking for her sons’ friends. She knew where they lived and so she drove to their houses.’

  Raisha had not told him any of this, only of her thwarted search for her relatives and her husband’s family.

  ‘They were all either dead or had left town.’ Belle’s voice was matter-of-fact. ‘And so she started to check likely-looking houses, places with a trampoline, or a swing in the garden. Raisha says it’s easy to spot homes with children.’

  Magnus said, ‘It’s been too long now. If a child was locked in somewhere, or was too young to look after itself, it would be dead.’

  ‘She buries them.’ Belle’s eyes met his, the hat brim a halo around her face. ‘She wraps them in a sheet, digs a hole in the garden, puts them in it and says a prayer over the grave. I’ve told her she should stop. Things have got beyond burying.’

  Beyond burying, a voice in Magnus’s head whispered.

  ‘What does she say?’

  ‘She says—’

  A deep-throated growl interrupted Belle’s answer. They turned and saw a Jack Russell crouching on the other side of the yard. Belle said, ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ in a soft baby voice and sank to her haunches, holding out a hand for the dog to sniff. The terrier bared its teeth in a white slavering snarl.

  Magnus put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I don’t—’

  Jacob shouted, ‘Get away from it.’

  ‘The poor thing’s scared,’ Belle said, in the same silly voice.

  ‘It’s rabid.’ The priest took his gun from its holster just as the dog began to edge towards them.

  ‘Leave it alone.’ Belle made kissy noises towards the dog.

  Magnus grabbed Belle by the arm and yanked her to her feet. The girl resisted, but he pulled her to him. He looked the dog in the eye and said, ‘Sit,’ in the commanding voice he had saved for the farm dogs. He saw a look of comprehension in the dog’s eyes. Its steps faltered and though it gave a low, exploratory growl, Magnus knew that it wanted to obey him. ‘Sit!’

  He felt Belle stiffen. ‘Don’t!’ Her yell was lost beneath the crack of Jacob’s bullet. The shot hit the dog in its flank and it fell whimpering to the ground.

  The girl shuddered in Magnus’s arms. ‘You fuckers! You fucking fuckers!’ She punched Magnus in the chest and he let her go. The abbot’s hat tumbled from her head, releasing a coil of blonde hair, and she ran to where Jacob was already standing over the small white body. The dog’s ribs were moving up and down; quick and sharp and not quite final.

  ‘At least finish the poor beast off,’ Magnus shouted and Jacob squatted and put a bullet into the dog’s head.

  A splash of blood spattered all three of them and Belle screamed again. She put a hand to her face and shouted at Jacob, ‘Why do you have to kill every fucking thing?’

  The priest’s face was pale. ‘I don’t …’

  But the girl had turned her back on him and was running across the yard. Magnus made to follow her, but Jacob caught his arm. ‘Let Will go after her.’ And Magnus saw that the tall man had already left the corner of the yard, where he had stood silent while the drama played itself out, and was jogging to catch up with her.

  Magnus bunched his fists. His biceps were tight with the urge to punch the priest in the face. ‘Why did you shoot it?’

  Jacob touched the creature with his foot. It was the same gesture he had made after he shot the Audi driver. ‘It was about to attack.’

  ‘It was entitled to. We were on its territory. The dog wasn’t rabid, Belle was right, it was frightened.’ Magnus felt an urge to bury the thing, the way Raisha buried the children she found.

  Jacob looked at him. ‘How do you think it’s been living since its owners died?’

  A horrible realisation dawned on Magnus but he said, ‘There are plenty of rabbits in the fields, sheep even.’

  The priest touched the dead dog’s belly again with the toe of his boot. ‘I had a family too: a wife, two girls and a boy. The children wanted a dog and so eventually we bought them one. Spot, the not very originally named Dalmatian. Annie and the children didn’t make it. Spot did.’ The priest looked at Magnus, his features tight and bone-white. ‘I would be a Herod to dogs. I would kill a whole generation of them if I could.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  The words were nothing, but the priest acknowledged them with a small nod. He turned and walked towards the barns, his gun still in his hand, and after a moment Magnus followed
him.

  They were cowsheds, as large as a car plant and full of death. Magnus and Jacob smelled them from yards away. Magnus would have turned back, but the priest was resolute and so he followed him inside, pulling the neck of his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose in the vain hope that it would help protect him from the stench. To his relief they did not venture deep into the buzz of flies, just stood in the doorway of each outhouse taking in the swollen bellies, the exploded innards and dead, infected eyes.

  Jacob said, ‘I only had six months to go. I was a career soldier, I’d expected to retire in uniform, but I’d seen too much of this kind of thing. Replace those cows with people and you’ll get the idea.’ He nodded towards the yard where he had shot the dog. ‘I saw some petrol up there. We should burn these sheds.’

  Magnus said, ‘There must be millions of places like this. How can you still believe in God?’

  Jacob stopped walking and turned to face him. ‘The reason I had decided to leave the army was that I could feel my faith deserting me. Annie said that she could see it in my face. She said my eyes had changed, grown harder, like bits of broken glass.’ He smiled. ‘Annie wrote poetry. I don’t know if it was any good or not, but it spoke to me.’

  ‘And now?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘And now?’ The priest raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Has your faith deserted you?’

  ‘The sweats renewed my faith. This disaster wasn’t God’s doing, it was man-made. God has given some of us the chance to live. He saved us and however sad we feel we owe it to Him to make a go of things.’ Jacob smiled at Magnus. ‘I know you don’t agree with me. But you may come to in time.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Magnus said, but he knew that the priest was wrong. If God existed then the devil did too and it seemed that he had the upper hand.

  They watched the sheds burn from a distance, but they could still hear the crackle and spit of the flames and smell the spoiled barbecue rot of burning cattle. The cows had been swollen with gas and once the fire took hold there were small explosions. Magnus began to worry that they had made a miscalculation and that the surrounding fields would go up too, but the cattle sheds had been set far back from them on tarmacadam paths.

  The byres on his parents’ croft had been close to grazing fields, the livestock turned out on to grass as soon as the weather allowed.

  ‘They never saw the sun,’ Magnus said. ‘The cattle were kept inside until it was time for them to be sent to slaughter.’

  ‘We grew too big.’ Jacob spoke as if he were reaching the conclusion of a long sermon. ‘But we have a chance to learn from our mistakes.’

  ‘No.’ Magnus’s own certainty surprised him. ‘Isn’t that one of the things your Bible tells us? We’re greedy, overreaching idiots who are destined to destroy ourselves over and over again.’

  Belle and Will were waiting by the truck, Belle cradling something in her arms. Will said, ‘I was going to come and look for you, but Belle was feeling sick and I didn’t want to leave her.’

  ‘It’s that smell.’ Belle had wrapped a shawl around her, though the afternoon was still hot. Whatever she was holding shifted beneath the fabric.

  Jacob said, ‘There were barns full of dead cattle. We thought burning them might help stop infection spreading.’

  Will gave a snort. ‘Then you should burn the world.’

  Belle’s shawl slipped, revealing two squirming bundles of fur. She threw Jacob a disgusted look. ‘She was protecting her puppies.’

  Magnus said, ‘Jacob killed the dog for a reason …’

  The priest put a hand on his arm. ‘It’s okay.’ He looked at the girl. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me.’

  Belle climbed on to the trailer without answering and Will jumped up after her. Magnus reached in to stroke one of the wriggling balls of fluff. The puppy bit him on the hand, not quite hard enough to draw blood. He pulled it away quickly. They were old enough to be weaned, he realised, old enough to eat flesh. He was about to get into the cab, but the priest touched his arm.

  ‘We didn’t check the outhouses on the other side.’

  The smoke was making Magnus feel uneasy. It was okay for the priest to say that he wanted people to see his community working and join it, but so far all he had done was light a fire that could be seen from miles around.

  ‘There will be other places with combine harvesters. I think we should get going.’

  But the priest was already walking across the yard.

  Belle said, ‘Let’s go without him.’

  ‘Jacob has the van keys.’ Will’s ugly face was blank, his voice flat, but Magnus sensed the anger coiled inside him.

  ‘So let’s take another one,’ Belle whispered. Her voice was edged with panic, as if she too were worried about the fire’s crowd-drawing potential. ‘This place is full of abandoned vehicles.’

  It was as if Will had not heard her. He picked up his shotgun, jumped out of the trailer and followed Jacob across the yard, his footsteps scrunching quick and resolute against the gravel. Magnus saw Will’s free hand clench into a fist and ran after him.

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Belle shouted.

  Magnus heard the truck’s tailgate slam and the girl’s swift footsteps behind him. Jacob had reached the sheds. He slid a door open and went inside. Will stepped into a trot. Magnus was running full pelt now, but the other man’s legs were longer and he had a head start. Jacob had seemed not to notice he was being pursued, but he was a soldier, with a soldier’s training and Magnus imagined him waiting on the other side of the door, his gun ready.

  ‘Wait,’ Magnus shouted. He felt sick with anticipation. Will followed Jacob into the shed and slammed the door behind him. Magnus faltered to a halt.

  ‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’ Belle was beside him.

  ‘We’re too late.’ Magnus’s words came between gasps of breath.

  ‘You’re a fucking coward.’ Belle still had the puppies shawled in her arms. She hugged them to her and ran awkwardly towards the outhouses before Magnus could stop her. No shot sounded and after a moment he followed her.

  The darkness of the barn was almost blinding after the bright sunshine. The two men appeared like black shadows, side by side, facing away from him in the dimness. Belle came towards Magnus, pale and ghostly. He asked, ‘What’s going on?’ but she ignored him and went outside, whispering softly to the dogs cradled in her arms as if they were in need of comforting. Magnus drew closer and saw that Will and Jacob were standing over the body of a man. He had been dead for some time, Magnus guessed, but it was not the sweats that had killed him. Blood from deep cuts on the man’s wrists coated his legs and belly. A gash yawned on his neck and a black bib crusted across his chest. Before the sweats Magnus had only seen two dead bodies, but now this was nothing to stare at.

  Will said, ‘It’s Henry, he was with us for a while.’

  Jacob passed the other man the keys to the van without looking at him. ‘You and Belle should go back to base.’ He was staring at the body as if something about it fascinated him. ‘Magnus and I will take care of Henry. We owe him that much.’

  It was in Magnus’s mind to say that he was not one of Jacob’s soldiers to be ordered around. He had never known Henry and owed him no more than the cattle they had burned, but then the priest’s eyes met his and he caught an expression in them that might have been fear or a warning.

  ‘She liked Henry. She’ll be upset.’ Whatever Will had been on the verge of doing was forgotten. He took the keys and left the barn.

  Jacob waited until the sound of Will’s footsteps had faded and the truck’s engine gunned into life, then he hunched down beside the body.

  ‘What do you make of this?’ He touched dead Henry’s wrists with the tip of his gun barrel.

  Magnus squatted next to him. ‘Things got too much for him and he cut his wrists.’

  ‘Look properly and tell me what you see.’ The priest lifted one wrist, then the other with his gun.

  ‘Two deep cu
ts on each wrist, one crossed over the other like an X. He meant to do it.’

  ‘And this?’ Jacob let Henry’s slaughtered arm drop and traced the gun along a dark bruise, striped above the wound like a bracelet. ‘There’s a matching one on the other wrist.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Magnus leaned forward to get a closer look. Each death had its own particular scent. Henry’s smelled of freshly spread fields and iron. ‘Perhaps it’s something that happens when you cut your wrists like that.’

  ‘It’s something that happens when someone sticks a pair of handcuffs on you.’ The priest’s voice was as dead as the corpse on the floor between them. ‘I’ll tell you something else. No one cuts their wrists in one clean slice. It takes a few goes before the natural instinct for self-preservation is completely overcome. Henry didn’t commit suicide. He was murdered.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ Magnus whispered.

  ‘You and Jeb were the only ones who weren’t here when it happened. That means you’re the only ones I can vaguely trust.’ Jacob got to his feet.

  Magnus followed him. ‘Raisha and Belle …’

  ‘Are as suspect as anyone.’ There was a sheet of plastic draped over some machinery in the corner of the barn. Jeb pulled it free and dragged it towards the body. ‘It’s comforting to think of women as a higher species, less inclined to violence than men, but they do occasionally kill.’ He put the plastic over Henry’s corpse, slipping its edges beneath the body, as if he were tucking him into bed. ‘We’ve been through an unprecedented trauma. Life is cheaper than it was before. Who knows what effect it will have on those of us who remain?’