Infanticide (Fallen Gods Saga Book 2)

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Infanticide (Fallen Gods Saga Book 2) Page 12

by T. W. Malpass


  ‘Don’t you touch her,’ Jerrico said. He knew Clover would obey, although it was clear the creature was tempted not to. She smelled so sweet. It would have finished her too, right down to her bones. Instead, Clover settled for a lick of her hair.

  ‘Clover!’ Jerrico shouted.

  Clover did as it was told, screwing up its face in frustration. ‘Told Clover to stay put, but Clover knew it would be needed. Little one can’t run on his own, not yet.’

  ‘Go get the keys to the cuffs.’ Jerrico held out his hands.

  Kate looked through her fingers in horror, more concerned about Jerrico’s familiarity with the creature than its hideous nature.

  There’s No Place like Home

  1

  Briaridge Orchard, Bedfordshire

  Night had fallen, their path darkened further by the cover of woodland. It was hard for them to determine exactly how long they had struggled to keep up with Clover, as their manic guide bounded through the undergrowth. The creature blazed a clear trail through the brier and bracken, moving like a bloodhound that had caught the scent.

  Martha and Vladimir found it easier to keep Clover in sight, but Kate was clearly exhausted. Being honest with himself, Jerrico was too. The stress of seeing his village destroyed by Cradleworth’s evil had taken its toll. Many people he’d grown up with were not on this earth anymore. They inhabited the matterless, with him. Every time Jerrico managed to conjure Cradleworth’s face in his mind, he should have been more scared, but when his thoughts turned to Frankie, soaking in his own blood on the sofa, the rage burned inside of him. He felt it rumble, as if a thunderstorm brewed within his chest. Now was not the time to self-destruct; not after he’d managed to free Kate from his clutches. He would need to fight with every ounce of strength he could muster to keep her safe, from within and without. He had already witnessed the way Vladimir and Martha looked at her – with bitterness and envy. They would not take her away from him. He would kill them first, Celeste too, if it came to that. It finally began to dawn on him. He’d started to realise the great power Celeste had alluded to, which ran through his veins. Beneath his flesh lay a fearsome weapon – a God.

  Kate snagged the toe of her shoe on a tree root, and Jerrico reached out to gather her before she hit the ground. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She sounded like herself again, to a degree anyway.

  ‘Can you stand? We have to keep moving,’ he said.

  ‘I think so.’ They resumed their pursuit of the ailing shadows of Vladimir and Martha. They ran until they could not catch their breath, until the surroundings became familiar. They spotted the turrets of the white manor through the tree line. The creature had led them back to the place where everything made sense, a place they had started to regard as their home, the only place in the world that felt safe right now.

  The woodland thinned out. Kate stopped in her tracks, confronted by a full view of the manor – so white, it shone through the darkness, the only light fighting against the brilliance of the burning sky.

  Jerrico returned to her side. ‘It’s okay. You’ll be safe here, I promise.’

  Kate took his hand, following him onto the shorter grass of the manor’s grounds. She saw him in a different way now that she thought he might be capable of keeping any promise, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

  Clover was grinning at them from the edge of the woodland, satisfied at having rescued its master.

  2

  Stuart sat in the empty dining hall at the front of house. He stared through the window into the red cloak. It seemed to go on forever – layer upon layer of mist, reflecting the complexities of their lives. He’d not told a soul about Barnes’ departure, and no one had noticed he was gone – all too wrapped up in their own problems. Celeste probably knew, but Stuart didn’t care. If he possessed the ability to jump back and forth the way Barnes did, he would have visited his parents, just to let them know he was alive. Then again, if he did, he would also have to tell them the truth – that they were about to become the next victims in Cradleworth’s awful plan. How would he be able to leave them again after that? Cradleworth’s poem crept around in his head Beneath the droves of apple groves, Where happiness can never be and he realised how alone he felt. Evelyn had been supportive enough, and Heven seemed a little friendlier than before, but he missed his friends.

  When he first caught sight of Clover bounding towards the house, he mistook it for a large fox out scavenging for a late snack. The darkness deceived him, so he leant forward from his chair to get closer to the window. Behind Clover, he saw two people following the creature, and two others further behind them. ‘Jerrico! It’s Jerrico.’ Stuart sped from the dining hall, heading for the front door. ‘They’re back,’ he shouted.

  It wasn’t long before Heven and Evelyn responded to Stuart’s calls, joining him at the front of the house. Ashley watched from her bedroom window as the exhausted group of runners got closer.

  Evelyn’s Unkindness flew in formation, tracking their approach from the skies. Soon enough, they could make out Martha and Vladimir, accompanied by a young woman. They watched Clover break away from the others to head for the woodland at the side of the Manor. The creature’s work done, it was time to return to the darkness until needed again.

  Jerrico slowed down for a moment as he watched Clover disappear. He felt gratitude – even pity. Clover had saved them all, provided him with what he desired – safe passage for him and Kate.

  ‘I knew it.’ Stuart passed by the others, seeing only Jerrico. Jerrico stumbled forward, almost colliding with the speeding Jollybird. Stuart slammed on the breaks. ‘I knew you’d make it.’

  ‘You were more confident than me then. Are you alright?’ Jerrico said, embracing him.

  ‘I’m fine. Evelyn has been taking care of me – hasn’t let me out of her sight.’

  ‘Good for her.’ Jerrico ruffled Stuart’s crazy hair.

  Stuart leant out of his chair to look beyond Jerrico, to the person standing behind him. ‘You must be Kate,’ he said.

  Kate nodded, intrigued by the boy, but more concerned about the strange building tucked away in its forest corral.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. My name is Stuart, or wheelie bin, depending on who you ask,’ he smiled again, realising that the girl was far too perturbed to listen to his feeble jokes.

  ‘It’s okay, mate – she’s had a lot to take in.’ Jerrico stepped away from their embrace and placed his arm around Kate, nudging her towards the manor. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Jerri?’ Stuart said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Did you see him?’

  Jerrico nodded. ‘We’ll talk about it inside.’

  3

  Martha needed to speak with Celeste, and it couldn’t wait. She ran up the winding staircase and burst into her room.

  Ashley already sat at Celeste’s bedside. The stale air filled Martha’s lungs, the familiar beeps and hisses from the medical equipment calmed her frustration. Ashley’s pale skin sagged like putty as she channelled her patient, becoming her mouthpiece again.

  ‘I’m going home,’ Martha said.

  ‘You know I can’t allow that – it’s almost time.’

  ‘I could travel through the mirror and get back before Cradleworth even knew I was there.’

  ‘If the police were to see you back in Cavity, they would throw you in jail. They have all the evidence they need.’

  ‘You’ve been watching me, Celeste. You know I take my chances.’

  ‘We nearly lost Jerrico because of his foolishness.’

  ‘Well we haven’t, and if he’s so powerful, then you don’t need me anymore.’ Martha’s frustration started to build again.

  ‘Davy and Taylor are safe.’

  ‘For now.’

  ‘Kate will not stay long. She will come to realise that she does not belong here with us. I know that you love Davy with all your heart, but you are capable of loving him with much more than human emotion. You will love him across forms and across t
he ages. Embrace what you are, let go of what you thought you were.’

  Tears threatened Martha’s eyes, and her need for confrontation eased. ‘It’s hard to open my eyes and see the things you’re describing. Too much darkness gets in the way,’ she said.

  ‘Then push it aside.’

  4

  Vladimir was surprised how pleased he felt to be back at the Manor. It was more like home than the one he had back in Russia. Even though he’d complained about it, part of him was glad they managed to rescue Jerrico. He watched Evelyn fuss over Jerrico and Kate, forcing cups of tea upon them, and he realised he could be in much worse places right now. If the end was coming, then why not here? His phone began to buzz inside his jacket. He cursed himself for not ditching the damn thing when they were on the road. The phone’s display flashed with Dmitri’s name. Vladimir stepped out into the corridor to answer it.

  ‘Dmitri?’

  ‘I’m disappointed if you still expected to hear his voice.’ His mother’s husky tones were unmistakable. ‘It took a lot to find you,’ Sasakia said.

  ‘What – money? I hear you have a lot less these days.’

  ‘Such a smart boy, but always too curious for his own good – always going places he has been told not to go.’

  ‘Fucking bitch! You have such a surprise coming to you – you and everyone else in this fucking joke of a life.’

  ‘I knew you’d lost your head, but I didn’t realise quite how much. Almost makes me not want to kill you – almost.’

  ‘I hope you’re quick, mother. We might be able to resolve our differences before–’ he broke off.

  ‘We’ll finish this alright, and when I’m done with you, I’m coming for your friends.’

  ‘Still upset that I killed your boyfriend? I know you were fucking him, everybody did.’

  ‘I brought you into this world, and I’m going to take you out of it.’

  ‘If you fail, I’ll make sure that you’re buried next to your husband.’ Vladimir hit the end call button and slouched against the wall, rubbing his brow.

  ‘Would you like a cuppa, dear?’

  Evelyn’s call brought him back to himself. ‘No, thank you,’ he called back.

  Triage

  1

  Tylers Green, Buckinghamshire

  Kaleb sat watching another child breathe her last. Not an ordinary paediatric death, there was no such thing in Tylers Green. This child, like all the others that filled the medical centre, had withered. Her bones had become unbearably brittle and her eyes had faded to grey until she could no longer see the weeping faces of her parents. Her blood ceased flowing through her veins, as her heart finally stopped. It was obvious from the filthy mattresses and the shear look of exhaustion on the faces of those who knelt at each bedside that the process had taken weeks of torture and pain to reach its wretched conclusion.

  Brenda, the woman who let them in, had been appointed by the town’s folk to take charge after the plague hit. Deputy Head of the school across the street, and childless herself, she explained how Tylers Green found itself in this desperate situation.

  It all began six weeks ago. The children started to flock to the assembly hall after school. They would stand together on the stage singing Frere Jacques day after day. No one could snap them out of it. Each time, the children would eventually stop and make their way back to their homes with no memory of where they had been or what they had been doing. The next day, they would be back again.

  When Josie asked why the children were not medically examined, Brenda explained that the town’s people had heard rumours of the same phenomenon occurring in other surrounding towns and villages. They heard stories of parents forcibly separated from their children by the authorities. Nevertheless, Alvin Ferris, the local doctor, did contact a central medical body. His instructions were to keep the children as comfortable as possible until the deployment of crisis teams; none arrived. In the following weeks, the sickness escalated. The children developed visible signs of ageing on their skin and in their posture. They started to leave their homes in the middle of the night, so they could break into the school and commence yet another chilling rendition of their favourite nursery melody. In the end, the town’s council made the decision to close the school indefinitely, and board the place up to stop the children from getting in again. Before long they were so overcome with the dreadful illness, they could barely walk to and from their beds. Faced with an unmanageable situation, the medical centre was converted into a crisis ward, under the supervision of Doctor Ferris.

  Kaleb and Josie lent a hand to the staff and the parents, tending to the patients the best they could, bathing their shrivelled hands and feet with hot water to relieve some of the arthritic pain affecting them. No modern medicine could reach them now.

  Although Josie touched many of the children, not one revealed their death to her, but she could smell it. It entered her, then oozed back through in her sweat, as her body succumbed to the heat of congested space in the makeshift ward.

  Kaleb couldn’t take it anymore. He moved as far away from the beds as possible. The suffering proved too much for him. Inadvertently reading the entire room, he felt both the children’s pain and the anguish of each parent. It was crushing him. He lifted his head from his hands and watched the dead girl’s father kiss her cold forehead for the last time. She looked like an ancient being, recovered from the ice and thawed out after thousands of years. Kaleb felt relief when her father finally laid her to rest. He surveyed the others in the room again. He saw at least twenty other families weeping away what must be the last hours of their children’s lives. He noticed a defibrillator and other life saving equipment propped up in a forgotten corner of the room – all abandoned some time ago. Everyone had decided that it would only be cruel and self-serving to prolong the children’s lives. The quicker death found them now the better.

  As Kaleb rose to his feet, the strange sphere flashed through his mind, sending his head into a spin. He stumbled backwards but familiar hands held him steady.

  ‘You should get some more rest. I can’t imagine how difficult this must feel for you,’ Josie said.

  ‘It’s only difficult because I know I can do something about it.’

  ‘What? What can you do?’

  ‘I can help them,’ Kaleb said.

  Josie frowned when she realised what he was suggesting. ‘That would be suicide, and you know it.’

  ‘I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t try to stop me, please. I’ve got work to do.’

  Josie refused, standing her ground. ‘How many could you save? Two, maybe three?’

  ‘It’s still three less that Cradleworth can get his hands on.’

  ‘It won’t change a thing, and it’s exactly what he wants you to do. Remember what Celeste told us? He will use life and death to destroy us. This would not be helping. It would just be giving in,’ Josie replied.

  ‘Maybe I want to give in.’

  ‘Please don’t say that, not after everything we’ve been through.’

  Kaleb gazed deep into her soulful eyes. She held him firm. There was no way she would let him sacrifice himself out of duty. ‘They’re so scared, Josie. It’s so cold and dark where they are. All alone – so alone.’

  Josie wrapped her arms around him. ‘They aren’t alone. You are there with them.’

  ‘Erm…really sorry to disturb.’ They both looked up to see Brenda, rocking awkwardly on her heels. ‘There’s a boy, Sean Drayson, he doesn’t have long. Anyway, the strangest thing – he is asking for you, Kaleb. He’s asking for you by name, surname too.’ She knew they had not given their full names to anyone, and anyway, the children were too delirious to take anything in.

  Brenda led them over to where the boy lay. He looked dead already. His skin had withered. His face had turned skeletal. Kaleb peered over the boy, trying to see his eyes, now sunken deep in their sockets. Something caught his attention – a twitch of the boy’s liver-spotted hand. He still clung to life. Kal
eb felt it as he read him – a very weak flame, about to go out. The boy’s mother could barely lift her head to greet them.

  ‘Sean has a message, just for you,’ she whispered.

  The dying boy turned his eyes in Kaleb’s direction, a smile on his washed out lips. ‘She told me you would come.’

  ‘Who? Who told you I would come?’ Kaleb said.

  ‘That doesn’t matter.’ Sean swallowed hard, trying to summon enough strength for his next sentence. ‘The only thing that matters is the message.’ He took a heart-wrenching breath, and his mother turned away to conceal her tears. The boy was struggling to lift his head from his pillow. Kaleb leaned in, placing his ear an inch from the lad’s mouth. ‘Crowside – that’s where this all started. That’s where you will find what you are looking for.’

  Kaleb twisted his neck to look up at Brenda. ‘Crowside? Is it the name of a town or something?’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it that. It’s about twenty-five miles southwest of here,’ Brenda replied.

  Kaleb remained still, held by the mother’s love for her fading child, longing to reach out and place his healing hands on the boy’s forehead, to will him back from the brink. He knew that pouring everything he had into him would leave him incapacitated for far too long. Time was not working in their favour. If they were going to stand any chance, they would need to leave soon.

  ‘If we go to Crowside we might stop this from happening in every town,’ Kaleb said, wanting to believe it.

  ‘But not my town – not my son.’ Sean’s mother continued to stroke what little hair the boy had left.

 

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