Death's Dominion

by Simon Clark

  ‘Listen.’ Beech’s green eyes were almost luminous in the gloom. ‘What did you make of the word Luna wrote on the lid?’

  ‘Beech, it can’t have been a word. It’s impossible.’

  ‘But hasn’t the impossible happened over and over again in the last seventy-two hours? A government that’s in power for thirty years is toppled overnight. The army destroys the transit stations. Transients are slaughtered. Dominion breaks the unbreakable rule by killing human beings. And now Luna …’

  ‘Luna’s brain-dead.’

  ‘But she still wrote the name of the person who murdered her.’

  ‘Beech,’ Paul spoke gently. ‘We’re in shock. Everything looks weird right now. Even the daylight looks as if it’s leaking out from underground rather than coming out of the sky. Did you see how poisonous the light looked today?’

  ‘Paul, I repeat: in her own blood Luna wrote the name of the person who murdered her.’

  ‘Granted, it looked like letters. Like. That’s all. They’re just random smears caused by involuntary muscle spasms.’

  ‘That just happen to resemble letters that form a name.’ Beech folded her arms. ‘Open your eyes, Paul. Yes, we’re changing. The God Scarers are evolving. Dominion kills human beings. We’re fighting for survival rather than passively accepting our fate. And even though Luna is clinically dead she still wrote the name of her attacker.’

  Images seared Paul’s mind. Luna writhing in a pool of her own blood in the coffin. Dominion crushing the soldier’s skull on the bridge. Him and Caitlin naked. How he slid into her in that fusion of disgust and ecstasy. Everything is changing.

  Beech challenged him to deny what she said with a, ‘Well?’

  ‘OK. The blood smears resemble letters. What did it spell out?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell exactly. But I believe I know which name Luna tried to write.’

  ‘So who murdered her?’

  Beech bit her lip. ‘I won’t say yet. Not until I’m sure.’

  Paul watched her face, wondering if she was bluffing. He thought: maybe she’s doesn’t know and is trying to provoke a reaction from me? Perhaps she hopes I’ll guess the same name that’s in her own mind?

  A seagull cried out across the castle. While all the time from the crypt came the groans of poor, dead Luna. The flesh had begun to decay, turning the groans into a broken, guttural sound.

  Paul waited for Beech’s nerve to break; then she’d utter the name she believed she saw painted there in blood on the white tomb.

  Instead, Xaiyad called from where he stood at the portcullis, ‘Paul, you’d best take a look at this. Something’s happening down in the town.’

  21

  Down Town

  In the hallway downstairs a clock chimed seven. They’d been standing in silence in Caitlin’s bedroom where Dominion lay on the bed. The clock voicing the hour broke the spell.

  ‘He’s still alive,’ Elsa told them. ‘There’s no doubting that.’

  Caitlin placed her palm on his forehead. ‘Do you know what’s wrong with him?’

  ‘Without diagnostic equipment we’re only guessing. I’ve not seen anything like it.’ West turned to Elsa. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Dominion’s transition was only completed a few days ago. He shouldn’t have been racing across the countryside. It could be a simple case of over-exertion before he was physically fit … I don’t know.’

  West crouched beside the bed to examine Dominion’s face. ‘But these scars? They’re all over the body. Have you seen anything like it before?’

  Elsa should her head. ‘Then Dominion’s a mystery. He’s the first to wake up in the regenerator. And you know as well as I do what he did to the soldiers.’

  ‘It must be exhaustion.’ Caitlin stroked his face. ‘He’s only sleeping.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ Elsa knew Caitlin’s verdict was borne out of faith rather than any medical diagnosis. She remembered West’s observation: ‘… Dominion is coming apart at the seams.’ The white scars that traced lines across his body were more pronounced than just moments ago. Instead of mere colouration in the skin, as they had been, they now formed distinct grooves. Once more she checked his chest. The bullet wounds had almost healed. Then it wasn’t those that interested her professional curiosity now it was his torso. The taut skin over the muscled body was dark enough to be described as black. The skin of his face was a golden brown, while blond stubble covered his scalp. The arms were the same brown, yet they terminated in white hands. Her eyes met those of West. An understanding passed between them. Both were beginning to make the same assumption about Dominion.

  West began, ‘It doesn’t help us staying here.’

  ‘We can’t easily move him,’ Elsa pointed out.

  ‘We mustn’t carry him,’ Caitlin’s voice was firm. ‘If the people in this place see he’s lost his strength then they’ll tear you apart. We’ve got to make everyone believe that Dominion’s ready to break their heads if they attack us.’

  ‘Won’t they be suspicious if we sit here all night?’

  Caitlin was thinking fast. ‘We’ve got to act as if Dominion’s busy with some plan. So we need to go out into the town as if nothing’s wrong.’

  West became uneasy. ‘Something is wrong. We’re pretty vulnerable right now.’

  ‘Word will get around about Mel being hurt by Dominion. What with Dominion smashing the place up last night it’ll make them wary.’ She shrugged. ‘For now anyway.’

  Elsa nodded. ‘At least it’ll give time Dominion chance to sleep. If all he needs is rest we’ve nothing to lose.’

  ‘Only our heads.’ West gave a grim smile.

  Caitlin went to the closet that had played its part in crushing Mel. ‘I’ll change out of this nightdress. And Elsa needs new clothes as well.’

  Elsa looked down at her own medic uniform that had been cut open by the drunk’s knife.

  Caitlin said, ‘Dad gave up ordering new clothes to stock the store but there’s still some left over in the attic. There’s got to be something to fit you.’

  Elsa turned to the unconscious giant of a man on the bed. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. His eyelids remained closed without so much as a single flicker. ‘I’m not happy about leaving him here. What happens if those men come back?’

  ‘I’ll lock the door downstairs that leads from the store into the house. Then I’ll push the key under the gap. If Dominion wakes up and wants to leave he’ll find the key on the floor. Come on, what are you waiting for?’

  Twenty minutes later all three stepped out through the doorway of the grocery store that Dominion had wrecked on their arrival in Scaur Ness. Dusk had infiltrated deep shadow into the alleyways. Even the open streets had become gloomy due to the approach of both sunset and heavy cloud. Nobody had moved the wreck of the car that Dominion had set alight. The wrought-iron cross he’d driven into the body of the vehicle still jutted from it to create a surreal automotive grave. A couple of little kids played under the fishing nets that had long ago been draped across the harbour railings. They stood up beneath them so they formed shrouds, then they made ghostly moaning sounds.

  West murmured, ‘Do you think we’ve inspired some new games?’

  Elsa watched the children as they peered through the reticulated rope-work at the God Scarers as they walked by.

  Caitlin told them, ‘We’ll go to The Angel Tavern.’

  ‘Is that wise,’ Elsa asked, as the children renewed their whoo-whoo calls.

  ‘That’s where my father will be along with the chief of police, plus what passes for the town’s top people.’ A laugh escaped Caitlin’s lips. ‘I was going to say, “Act natural.” But, you know …’ She shrugged.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ West murmured, ‘we’re the most natural down-to-earth monsters you’ll ever find.’

  Elsa caught sight of her reflection in a window. The only garment to fit her amongst the cartons of clothes was a summer dress. In shades of electric green it wasn’
t ideal. Short of walking with a blanket round her, however, it was that or nothing. Thin straps supported it across her shoulders. The design meant it hugged her figure. After all those years either in uniform or sweats this was something close to a miraculous transition in its own right. The dress was downright sexy.

  ‘Elsa looks beautiful,’ Caitlin made a point of addressing West. ‘Doesn’t she?’

  West nodded. ‘Definitely. It suits you.’

  ‘Bloody liar.’ Despite her joky tone the new-look-Elsa pleased her.

  ‘I was going to add: dazzling.’

  ‘In these greens I’m dazzling all right. I’d have been more at ease in what Caitlin’s wearing.’ She appraised the jeans and sweatshirt. After the billowing nightgown the close-fitting clothes made the woman appear taller.

  ‘Scaur Ness are breast men,’ Caitlin told her. ‘With that cleavage you’ll get them fired up even though they’ll pretend you disgust them.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll disgust them all right.’ Elsa spoke with feeling. ‘We’re monsters, remember?’

  ‘You clearly didn’t notice that you were giving Mel the thrill of his year.’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘You take it from someone who knows these people. He was so hot for you he was ready to burn.’

  From high on the cliff top Paul, Beech and Xaiyad watched the three walk along the street on the far side of the harbour. There wasn’t much light but there was enough to identify them.

  So could Saiban who appeared beside him like a wretched spirit. ‘So where’s Dominion?’ he breathed.

  ‘He might have been caught.’ Xaiyad leaned forward to peer through the grille of the portcullis. ‘There must be a town jail.’

  ‘I’d say not from their body language,’ Beech murmured. ‘They’re confident.’

  ‘Are my eyes deceiving me?’ Saiban stared at the three far below. ‘Or is Elsa wearing a dress?’

  The three entered The Angel, a whitewashed building just twenty paces from the harbour edge. Its bar was a large one, although there was something oppressively low about its ceiling. A sign painted on the mirror behind the bar proclaimed, THE ANGEL. LARGEST HOSTELRY IN THE BOROUGH. FIRST ALE DRAWN 1833.

  West murmured so only Elsa could hear, ‘This accounts for the streets being so empty. The whole damn town’s in here.’

  Elsa couldn’t disagree. There must have been dozens of men and women in the bar. They either stood at the bar itself or sat at tables. All had chosen the same drink: a dark, cloudy ale topped with a thin scum. Elsa had a mental image of it being brewed in big old rusty vats in the cellar beneath their feet. West nodded toward a corner of the bar. On a timber platform raised above the floor was a long table. Behind it sat eight men in a row. One wore a policeman’s uniform. She recognized the thin man in the centre as Caitlin’s father, Mayor Jackson. So those were the seats of power. This tavern must be where they held court. Even their lordly seating arrangements meant they looked down on the rest of the patrons.

  ‘Seems medieval to me,’ West murmured. ‘Masters and commoners, isn’t it?’ His eyes roved the bar. ‘See the man in black sat by himself? That’s the priest Dominion spoke with earlier.’

  ‘He’s the only one who isn’t thirsty.’

  ‘Notice how gaunt he is? He admitted he won’t be long for this world.’

  Elsa made a point of not staring, but she noticed the man’s skull-like face. The wrists that protruded from the sleeves of his black coat were painfully thin. Everyone in the bar stopped talking. They stared at the newcomers. The silence was so intense Elsa could have believed she’d hear the hiss of bubbles rising in the beer. None of the people there even seemed to be breathing.

  Caitlin caught her eye, a signal for the pair of them to follow her. She walked along the aisle between two rows of tables toward where her father sat with his companions on the dais. Wraiths of blue tobacco smoke drifted over the dozens of watchful faces. Elsa sensed the rising tide of disgust – even sheer hatred for the two creatures that had invaded this haven.

  As if it couldn’t be suppressed any longer a woman’s voice slashed through the air. ‘What are you doing here? You weren’t invited. Get out!’

  This opened the floodgates.

  ‘Bloody animals.’

  ‘Caitlin, your mother’ll be turning in her grave.’

  ‘What do you think you’re doing with those beasts? Stay away from them.’

  A drunkard’s voice rose, ‘Get their stinking corpse meat out of this bar.’

  One hurled the dregs of their glass against West’s face.

  How did the army let these bastards escape?’

  ‘Last night they marched down that street like they owned the place.’

  ‘Burn the damn lot of them, then dump what’s left in the sea.’

  A man with a red face stood up to block Caitlin’s way. Elsa heard him shouting, but his voice was so slurred by drink she couldn’t understand what he said.

  ‘Joseph … Joseph. Let them through.’

  Caitlin turned to see that the priest had struggled out of his chair. He was clearly so ill that he had to steady himself by pressing one hand down on the table top.

  ‘Joseph, don’t lay a hand on them,’ the priest commanded. ‘The authorities will deal with the creatures.’

  ‘But you know what they are, Father?’ The man swayed from the effects of the beer. ‘These two are nothing but monsters. They aren’t even alive.’

  ‘I agree. But we will not hurt them.’

  ‘Father, you can’t be serious. And look at this woman. Caitlin Jackson. She’s been whoring round with them up there.’

  Caitlin’s father rapped his knuckles on the table. ‘Sit down, Joseph, or go home.’

  Joseph obeyed. The mayor was still a powerful figure in these parts.

  ‘Dad …’ she began then opted for the formal, ‘Mayor Jackson. We’ve come to ask when the food and lamps will be delivered to my friends.’

  Friends? Elsa realized Caitlin’s allegiance caused an angry stir in the bar.

  The mayor’s face flushed red; a mixture of shame and anger. ‘Caitlin, I want you to come home.’

  ‘Not yet. We’ve come about the supplies.’

  Mayor Jackson lowered his voice as if embarrassed to speak. ‘The supplies are on a truck. They’ll be delivered to the Pharos soon.’ He grimaced. ‘Satisfied?’

  ‘That’s all we wanted to know.’

  As the three left the tavern Caitlin murmured under her breath to Elsa, ‘Now, can we go back to the others?’

  Outside the gloom had deepened. Even so, the cloud had started to break, revealing slashing rents of blue overhead. The children still played under the fishermen’s nets, although when they saw Elsa and West they started name calling.

  ‘Ugly buggers.’

  ‘Freaks!’

  ‘Get back to Castle Frankenstein!’

  West murmured, ‘It won’t be wise to hang around here. We’ll see if we can wake Dominion then get out of here.’

  ‘I’m with you on that one. They weren’t overjoyed to see us in the bar, were they?’

  ‘They’re cowards!’ Caitlin insisted. ‘There’s no work here but they still haven’t got the guts to leave Scaur Ness to find jobs.’

  ‘That makes them angry,’ Elsa said, as they walked back to the grocery shop. ‘They’ll be wanting a scapegoat.’ Above them on its cliff the castle promised at least a temporary safe-haven. The question now: if Dominion is still unconscious how do we get him back up there?

  When they arrived they quickly passed through the shattered entrance to the rear of the store. The door Caitlin had locked now lay wide open. West ran up the stairs to the bedroom.

  He called down, ‘Dominion isn’t here.’

  Caitlin nodded at the door. ‘The key’s in the lock, so he let himself out.’

  ‘But where’d he go?’

  West came down the stairs. ‘If he’s back at the castle that solves one problem.’

  El
sa clicked her tongue. ‘But that leaves us in a vulnerable position.’

  When Elsa emerged into the gloom of the dusk she realized her words were more prophetic than she thought. The occupants of The Angel Tavern had emptied out onto the pavement. Some must have been drinking hard all afternoon because at least a dozen men were swaying from the effects of the alcohol. A few had pulled half-pint bottles of a coal-black liquid out of their jacket pockets. Whatever had brought them out of the bar wasn’t going to interrupt their liquor intake if they could help it.

  ‘Coffin paint,’ Caitlin told them. ‘The beer’s bad enough: that stuff sends them crazy.’

  ‘Just what we need,’ West grunted. ‘A mob pumped up on Dutch courage.’

  ‘Only they aren’t interested in us.’ Elsa looked over the heads of the crowd.

  ‘It must be Dominion,’ West ventured.

  Elsa stood on tiptoe to see more. ‘What’s he doing?’

  West became uneasy. ‘God help us if he’s decided to fight everyone who was in the bar.’

  ‘He’s not fighting …’ Elsa moved toward the crowd. ‘He’s pulling the fishermen’s nets off the railing.’

  What on earth does he want with them?’

  Elsa didn’t like this one bit. ‘Maybe he’s suffering a psychological reaction to the transition.’

  ‘You mean he’s gone crazy?’

  Elsa gave an unhappy shrug. ‘There are physical problems; his body changing colour and the scarring. It could affect his mind as well.’

  Caitlin still had faith. ‘No. He’s not mad. Dominion’s got a plan. Come on!’

  22

  A Monstrous Hunger

  Elsa asked herself in astonishment: What the hell is Dominion doing?

  The crowds were watching the giant of a man as he worked. He was alert again, and appeared none the worse for collapsing unconscious in Caitlin’s bedroom. On the horizon the sun had broken through the cloud. It cast its red light down the street to lend the short blond stubble on Dominion’s head a copper glow. She saw his hands were the colour of white marble, while the skin of his arms was the same gold as freshly toasted bread.