by Louise Voss
Vernon put his face very close to hers. ‘Well, in that case, if anything happens to those kids, I am holding you personally responsible,’ he hissed through clenched teeth, before turning and barging his way out of the house.
A feeble voice called down the stairs to him the moment he set foot inside his own place:
‘Vern, angelpops, please could you bring me some camomile tea? With half a teaspoon of honey, not too hot … ? And I could do with a foot rub too, if you have a minute …’
Vernon marched into the kitchen, flicked on the kettle, and slowly and repeatedly banged his head against a cupboard door.
Riley listened to the message that Vernon had left on his cellphone.
‘Who does that asshole think he is?’ he said scornfully. ‘Right, kids, that’s decided. We’re going to California. Nobody tells me what to do.’
He switched off his cellphone, threw it into the footwell of the car with the Twinkies wrappers, and headed west on the open road.
45
When Kate was a child, her Aunt Lil had kept a canary in a cage. Bertie, that was its name. The poor thing used to sit there all day, on its perch, tweeting absent-mindedly. It was bad enough, the young Kate had thought, keeping a winged creature locked in a cage, unable to fly. But Aunt Lil also had two cats, a pair of neutered toms, and they would prowl around the bird’s cage, occasionally licking their lips, waiting for the day Aunt Lil accidentally left the cage door open. Kate felt very much like that canary now. Caged, frightened. Waiting for the cats to get her.
Earlier, after the women had carried Junko’s body from the room, with Angelica issuing orders to take her into the woods and bury her ‘with the others’, Kate had lain on her bed and wept. It had all come out: the grief and shock and fear, the days of intense anxiety, all the death she’d seen. She wanted Paul, she wanted Jack. She wanted to go home. But it seemed likely that she was going to die in this place. She would never see her son again, she wouldn’t find a cure for Watoto. Instead the insane women who were keeping her prisoner would triumph.
Evil would win.
But when it seemed she had cried all she could, when it felt like she had no more tears, she found something flexing inside her: the strength at her core, the kernel of hope and determination that had seen her through so much in her life. All of her experiences – from watching her parents die in Africa, through surviving the fire at the Cold Research Unit, to thwarting Gaunt’s attempt to unleash his deadly virus – had combined to create something tough at her centre, something tougher than she realised.
And the anger was there too, a fire that kept on burning low, only requiring her to think about Isaac, or Officer Buckley, or the photo of the seven-year-old boy from the newspaper – or Jack’s fate, if these women weren’t stopped – for it to roar up and fill her with the need to keep going, keep trying. To never give up.
Because even when all hope is gone, you can still win the game.
She thought of Isaac and Junko and the people at the research lab, the virologists who’d attended the conference in San Diego – none of their deaths should be in vain. They had devoted their lives to trying to eradicate disease. And now that she was the only one left, it was up to her.
To get out of here. To find the vaccine.
She thought back to what Junko had said in the lab, just before Angelica and the others had burst in. She had been talking about something Kate and Isaac had written in their research paper. What was it she’d said?
‘Remember, in your paper, you said that sometimes when studying the virus you thought you could see a trace of something that didn’t belong, like a ghost flickering
in and out of sight. You thought perhaps it was a contamination.’
The ghost. It was something she and Isaac had debated for ages. He thought it was trivial, a mistake, and that it shouldn’t be included in the paper. But Kate had always felt it was important somehow, that she just needed to find out what it was. And Junko had obviously thought so too.
But what had Junko discovered?
Kate got off the bed and paced around the room, the kinetic energy helping her to think. What was it that made Watoto-X2 different from the original strain? They appeared to be identical. But this new strain was deadlier. It was the way in which it killed – suddenly, rather than dragging its victims towards a slow, gradual death – the kind of death her parents had suffered. Officer Buckley had died from a seizure at the end, sudden and unexpected. What could have caused that?
She stopped pacing. She could feel the knowledge there, so close to the surface of her brain yet tantalisingly out of reach. She wished she was in the lab right now, able to examine the virus, to hunt for the ghost.
Eventually, her brain aching with frustration, she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. Junko’s face swam into her vision and she managed a brief smile, remembering how sweet she had been. And how intelligent.
What secret did you take with you, Junko? she thought. And how can I unlock it?
Worn out, she fell into a shallow sleep.
The sound of women shouting woke her up. It was pitch black in the room, but she knew this room almost as well as her own bedroom by now and she found the door easily, pressing her ear against it.
The voices of the Sisters, raised in anger, some distance away but coming closer, and audible in fragments: ‘… hasn’t jeopardised us …’ ‘… I won’t have you making her angry …’ Something inaudible, then ‘… the Goddess is demanding blood …’
The last one sounded like Angelica. The fact that they were fighting gave Kate hope. Maybe they would all shoot each other – although that wouldn’t do her much good, locked in this room.
The shouting stopped and she could hear footsteps coming towards her room. She stepped back from the door, but the urge to hear what was happening was too strong and she pressed her ear against it again. She could hear two voices: Angelica’s and, she was sure, Preeti’s. It sounded as if they had stopped a metre or two from her room.
And when she heard what they said, she had to clasp her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out.
46
Angelica drained the last drops of her breakfast protein shake. It usually energised and invigorated her, but today it sat heavily at the bottom of her stomach like cement. She replaced the jug on the refrigerator shelf for the others to take their share – it was one of the ranch rules that it must be consumed daily, so potent were the health and spiritual benefits of this particular drink. Angelica had first come across its secret ingredient in an Alexandrian street market, and had subsequently imported several years’ supply of the grey powder.
Still unsure as to why she felt so out of sorts, she decided to go for a run. She changed into a tight singlet and brief Lycra shorts, laced up her running shoes, and set off down the drive of the ranch. The sun blazed down onto her bare head and, as always, she thought of Sekhmet, the Eye of Ra, the destructive Sun Goddess. The Egyptians had been so fortunate, she thought, picking up her pace as she struck out down the deserted road at the end of the drive. They too must have been visited by Sekhmet, communed with Her. There were so many images of Her. Angelica felt privileged that, to her knowledge, she and her sisters were the only ones since Egyptian times that the Goddess had spoken directly with – what an incredible gift!
And yet … why had it been so long since she had felt Sekhmet’s presence? It had been days now, and the closest she had come to it was the burning of the sun rays on her head. Had She deserted them? Had Angelica misunderstood Her command? After all, if they sacrificed Kate Maddox, they would only be five, and the prophecy of Sekhmet’s Seven Angels wouldn’t be fulfilled. Perhaps Sekhmet was angry at her, perhaps she had screwed the whole thing up and the Golden Age would never happen …
It was getting hotter and hotter. Angelica wiped away the sweat that dripped down her face, and changed her high ponytail into a makeshift bun, to keep the hair off her neck. She was panting hard as she turned a corner and
then—
‘Oh!’
She was there! Sekhmet herself!
Angelica immediately prostrated herself, face down in the dirt of the road, dazzled by the Goddess’s radiance.
‘Om Shanti, Sekhmet, sweet Sekhmet, I am your faithful servant, speak to me,’ she gabbled, fear and awe swirling and eddying through her in waves of heat and dust and delight.
She risked a glance. The Goddess herself, majestic and splendid, huge on her throne, her lion’s head and grave eyes, the Ankh of Life in her hand. The rising morning sun was directly behind her head, forming the crown she always wore, dazzling Angelica, but she could just make out the silhouette of the serpent in front of the sun, and the vulture-headed sceptre in her left hand.
Joy sprang in Angelica’s breast – this was a sign! Everything was on track, she’d done the right thing by sending Heather; the Goddess had chosen to come down and manifest herself, and the fact that Sekhmet was on the throne meant that she had come to receive supplicants who would seek her counsel. She had come to talk to Angelica! It was incredible. Angelica usually only saw her in dreams or visions.
‘Yes, Lady Sekhmet, I am here, your loyal supplicant, your servant, tell me your will … I am sorry I ever doubted you were with us, I’m so sorry, it’s just the End Times I know …’
Angelica’s nose was pressed into the gravel and she could taste dust in her mouth, but her whole body thrilled with joy and gratitude.
When they came, the words shimmered like an aural heat haze, not emanating directly from the being on the throne, but made up of the very particles and ions of the atmosphere, soft at first, then louder and clearer.
Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.
‘We will only be five then,’ Angelica said timidly. ‘Is that acceptable?’
And it came again: Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.
The next time Angelica looked up, the sun streamed right into her eyes, nothing blocking it. The vision had vanished.
She got up, brushed the dust and dirt from her legs and breasts, and ran straight home feeling as though she was flying. As usual, Sekhmet had provided her with all the answers. It was incredible how, whenever she faced a problem, the Goddess told her exactly what she wanted to hear.
That evening after meditation Angelica stood up and held out her hands to her Sisters, palms upwards, a beatific smile on her face. When she spoke, her voice rang loud and clear around the marble atrium.
‘I have amazing news,’ she said. ‘We have all been shaken by recent events, the loss of our dear Sister Cindy, and the worry that the prophecy might not be fully fulfilled, when Kate Maddox declined to join us, and Junko departed. And Sister Heather being away from home at this crucial time … it isn’t easy for any of us. But Sekhmet wants us to be flexible, and above all, loyal. We are so close now! I can smell the meadows of the Golden Age, the freshness of a new world, can’t you, Sisters? I can see our palace, feel our eternal joy! Pain is a necessary part of the birth of the new order. I think we just didn’t realise how much pain …’
‘What’s up, Dadi?’ asked Simone.
Angelica paused for dramatic effect, then fell to her knees, her white robe spreading out behind her as she turned to the statue of Sekhmet.
‘She appeared to me in person this morning! On the road, about two miles south of here!’
Brandi and Preeti both gasped and gazed wide-eyed at the statue as if expecting it to nod in agreement. Angelica noted that Simone’s eyes remained downcast, and she did not react at all, which annoyed and displeased her.
‘Don’t you understand the significance of this?’ Angelica addressed her comment to Simone, who somehow managed to nod and shrug simultaneously.
‘What did she say?’ Brandi asked reverentially.
Angelica beamed, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘It is all as decreed. Our faithfulness will be rewarded – I confess, Sisters, I had suffered a brief crisis of confidence when we lost Sister Cindy – but it was a test. And we have passed! The Goddess told me that it is all right, the Transformation can still take place with the five of us, provided that Sister Heather completes her mission and returns to us.’
‘What about Maddox?’ Simone said, unsmiling.
‘In Kate Maddox,’ Angelica announced, ‘we have our ultimate gift to the Goddess. Sekhmet wants her dead, as a final test of our loyalty and, in Her generosity, to put our minds at rest that Maddox can’t somehow find a way to stop the cleansing plague. Maddox can never be one of us – the Goddess has examined her while she is here and found her wanting. The trial is cancelled. A blood sacrifice is all we need. Nothing can stop the progress of the Golden Age now. Nothing!’
Simone got up, her sandals slapping on the polished marble floor as she walked straight across the ankh symbol and strode out of the room. The three other women stared after her, aghast.
Preeti jumped up and made to follow, but Angelica gripped her arm. ‘What is going on? What’s the matter with her?’
Preeti hesitated, fixing her brown eyes on Angelica’s furious face. ‘Forgive her, Dadi, it’s last-minute nerves, that’s all. She … uh …’
‘What?’
Preeti darted a glance at Brandi, who nodded encouragingly.
‘Promise you won’t punish her for it?’
‘It depends. What has she done?’ Angelica’s grip tightened and Preeti pulled her arm away, rubbing her biceps. Angelica’s voice was ice-cold.
‘Nothing, well, not nothing, it’s just that … she called her folks in LA, wanted to speak to them one last time. To say goodbye.’
Angelica’s hands flew to her mouth, but she immediately regained her composure. She pulled herself up to her full height before marching out of the room. Brandi and Preeti scurried after her, almost running to keep up.
‘Did she tell them where we are?’ spat Angelica over her shoulder.
‘No, Dadi, I swear – that’s why she’s so upset. They were dead. No one answered at her folks’ house but she got hold of a cousin who told her. The cousin was sick too. Can we go meditate with her? She’s grieving.’
‘She should know better than to allow such base, earthly emotions. And you – why didn’t you tell me about this?’
Brandi and Preeti exchanged glances again. ‘It only happened this morning while you were out on your run. Simone was going to tell you herself. She’s really sorry, Dadi, she knows it was wrong. But she hasn’t jeopardised us in any way.’
‘Hasn’t jeopardised us?’ shrieked Angelica, stopping suddenly in the hallway, and turning to face them, all her joy and bliss from earlier having evaporated. ‘What do you suppose Sekhmet will think of this? You are my chosen ones! I won’t have you making her angry!’
‘What are you going to do, Dadi?’ Preeti asked, in a small voice, anxiously fingering the ankh around her neck.
‘My whole life has been leading to this and I will not allow any of you, or Maddox, to fuck it up for me. The Goddess is demanding blood, and I am going to make sure she gets it; Maddox’s blood, first thing tomorrow. Now …’ She sucked in air. ‘Get out of my sight.’
47
Kate sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the grey shapes in the darkness, too tired and scared to think straight. She had spent the last couple of hours standing on a chair beneath the window, trying to loosen the bars. But it was hopeless, as were her attempts to find a weapon in the room. The chairs were solid and heavy to lift, the bed wouldn’t come apart; there was nothing. The nearest thing to a weapon she possessed were her shoes, and they wouldn’t be much use against the Sisters’ guns.
She considered screaming to attract attention, then trying to overpower whoever came to the door. But, aside from being armed, these women – with the possible exception of Preeti – were all strong, much stronger than her. In the end, she decided that her only hope would be to somehow convince them that she had seen the light and decided to join the sisterhood, that Sekhmet herself had spoken to her. If they fell for it, that would bu
y her some time. But from what she’d heard Angelica say in the corridor outside her room, it seemed they had made up their minds.
She had a matter of hours left, then dawn would come and, with it, her death.
The prospect left Kate feeling oddly numb. As she sat, chin dipped to her chest, she felt herself drifting to sleep, as if she was shutting down, her exhausted brain unable to cope. It felt like a dream when, in the near darkness of her room, she saw a figure moving swiftly towards her.
When she opened her mouth to scream a hand clasped over it. Kate tried to shake her head, to bite, to push the hand away, but a voice whispered in her ear, ‘Be quiet. If you scream, they’ll kill us both.’
Kate stopped struggling. It was Simone. Her breath still smelled of chewing gum.
‘If I take my hand away, are you going to scream?’
Kate shook her head. Her heart was going crazy, beating so hard it seemed to be trying to smash its way out of her chest.
Simone pulled her hand away and, in the same moment, flicked on a torch. Dazzled, Kate screwed her eyes tight.
‘Sorry,’ Simone whispered.
‘What … what’s going on?’ Kate asked in a whisper of her own.
Simone sat on the bed beside her. ‘Was it true? What you said about the rats?’
‘What?’
‘The rats. You said that they’ll, y’know, take over the world.’
Kate swallowed. Her mouth was desert-dry. ‘Yes. When there are no people left, the rat population will explode.’
‘A plague of rats.’ Simone shuddered. ‘I hate them. Nasty little fuckers.’
Kate didn’t know what to say.
Simone went on: ‘They’re fixing to kill you in the morning. Going to sacrifice you to the Goddess. I’m not sure exactly how Dadi Angelica is planning to do it, but I’m guessing it’s going to involve knives and incantations and shit.’ She sighed. ‘I’m sick of it. All the killing. I really thought it was the truth, y’know? The prophecy, it all seemed to make sense, though I’ve figured now it seems to change all the time depending on what Angelica wants to happen. She talks a good game. Guess she had me under a spell. I didn’t realise she was crazy as a motherfucker.’ Her laugh was low and mirthless.
