Rapture Falls

by Matt Drabble

  CHAPTER VI

  CROSSROADS

  “When the Lord your God brings you into the land you are entering to possess and drives out before you many nations . . . then you must destroy them totally. Make no treaty with them, and show them no mercy”.

  Deuteronomy 7:1-2

  This was a bad idea McCullum told himself for the hundredth time, it was nine thirty at night, the area was a poor one and inhabited by desperate people who did not welcome the police at any hour for any reason, they took care of their own problems via sawn off pool cues and the sharp ends of broken bottles thrust into faces. McCullum had left his car in the city centre and was paying a worried taxi driver way over the odds to drive him in, they passed under the railway bridge that offered an imaginary barrier that kept the wolves away. He had a lead on Justin Marsh and it was one that he did not intend to share with anyone else, Marsh was connected intimately with St Paul’s and more importantly with Father Andrew Jacobs and right now he wanted all of the information laid at his feet regardless of how he had to extract it. Broken down terraced house with boarded up windows flashed past on either side as the taxi drove too quickly through the war zone, collections of angry and resentful youths stood on most corners, no ASBO badges here, these were dangerous hardcore thugs, their faces cold and callous. McCullum had finally broken his bad luck spell when one of the feelers he had sent out came up golden, a two time loser with an unaffordable drug habit looking to put some police good will in the bank had furnished him with an address. So here he sat on a lumpy backseat of a taxi that had frankly seen better days, being driven into the worst area of the city, alone and unarmed with nobody knowing where he was.

  The car slowed as the building in question drew closer, McCullum thought that the taxi driver would have rather he jumped from a moving car than come to a complete stop. He had barely exited the car before the driver screeched away from the curb without checking to count the money grabbed quickly from his outstretched hand. McCullum stood back into the shadows whilst the taxi drove nosily away, when he was sure that the car hadn’t attracted any attention he crossed the road and headed towards the large disused building. The deserted building in question was an expansive white elephant that had been renovated during an unsuccessful regeneration project long since abandoned by the Welsh Assembly. With a quick look around McCullum headed around to the rear, the whole area was abandoned and seemed darkly forsaken, he had to kick his way quietly through a myriad of filth and debris scattered about the waste ground. He spotted a rear window whose boards seemed a little more rotten and decayed than the others, it crumbled in his hands and came away easily, McCullum needed to exert only minimal pressure as the window latch fell away and the window slid up without much resistance. He boosted himself up and into the back room, the stench of moldy wood and soiled carpeting was almost overpowering and he had to hold his hand over his face until he could bear the smell, he listened intently to his surroundings seeking the noise of his prey. After a brief but thorough pause he ascertained that the only noise he could presently hear were the faint scratching claws of the building’s new rodent tenants, McCullum switched on the powerful torch that he had brought and moved out of the room silently toward the corridor, this lower floor had four doors including the one he had just walked through leading off from a central hallway. His feet squelched on the stained and decomposing carpet, the torchlight shone through cascading swirls of dust illuminating his path, he could see that vandals had long since destroyed practically anything that they could which included the radiators spewed water onto the carpets that would never be cleaned again. McCullum could clearly see that the other three doors were open and their rooms empty, at least of any two legged inhabitants. He began to edge his way up the staircase, the banister had long since been pulled down, there were holes punched into the plaster that lined the stairs as he climbed, his torch lit the way as he aimed the beam at his footsteps to be sure of avoiding any alerting mishaps. There, a noise, McCullum came to a full and silent stop, there had definitely been a movement too heavy to be considered a rat or any other members of the animal kingdom, he remained rock still and extinguished the torch. Plunged into darkness McCullum waited, light footsteps began to echo toward the landing, an approaching low glow struggled for life against the dark as batteries were in the last throws of their days. A figure appeared shuffling towards the top of the stairs, the figure was a medium built man with his head bent and body stooped as if weighed down by the troubles of the world. McCullum suddenly turned on his powerful flashlight and shined it full bore into the mans face, the force of the beam blinded the man who raised his hands to cover his eyes against the assault, McCullum ran full paced up the stairs taking them two at a time, the man did not have time to regain his vision before he was smashed by six foot three and sixteen stone of a heavily muscled Detective Inspector, it was no contest. McCullum drove the much smaller man flying backwards and into the plasterboard wall with a shoulder charge leaving a massive crater in it, the man slumped to the floor, his gasping wheezing breaths told McCullum that at least several ribs had been broken. He stood back and over the man and illuminated him with the torch, he could now see that the man was nothing more than a skinny youth, but at least it was Justin Marsh, owing to the fact that he was wanted for the assaults of an elderly woman and a beloved priest, it would probably be enough to negate any excessive force complaints.

  “Evening Justin, how goes it?” McCullum asked amiably.

  Marsh continued to lie crumpled on the floor, after a short while he began to laugh, it was an eerie sound that permeated through the perished hallways and one that McCullum did not much care for, he heaved the teenager up off the floor one handed, Jacobs may have been a man to be worried about but he was damned if he was going to feel nervous around some spotty arsed kid.

  “What’s so godamned funny you little shit?” McCullum growled.

  “You, heathen” Marsh’s voice trembled with laughter, spittle mixed with blood spewed from his cracked lips, “You have no idea of the furious vengeance that you have brought down upon your head, he will tear at your soul and feast on your bones, he will tear your world apart and rain fire down…”

  McCullum smashed the kid full in the face hard, partly through anger and partly through fear, but whatever was going on in this increasingly weird world he was not going to take crap from punks like this. He waited a few minutes to gather his composure again then dragged Marsh by the ankle into the back room where he had obviously been living, the room was surprisingly clean and kept for a squatting tenant, candles were lit around the floor, a sleeping bag lay neatly rolled in the corner and a prayer mat faced the boarded up window.

  McCullum flung the groggy Marsh into the centre of the room, he grabbed a bottle of water from out of the supplies in the corner, he poured the water over the semiconscious teenager, Marsh spluttered back into an almost fully coherent state.

  “How about we try that again sunshine” McCullum knelt next to the flat on his back suspect, Marsh’s eyes had cleared enough to receive questions once more.

  “Now then, how about we run through what you did to the priest and perhaps just what the hell is going on up there”

  Marsh was emitting a strange odour of sweat and insanity, McCullum had once spent four months working in a hospital for the criminally insane during studying for his psychology degree, he recognised the aroma from his work experience as it still invaded his dreams. Marsh’s reddened face burned with a manic intensity he appeared to be dangerously unbalanced, it did not seem to be a very large leap to imagine him attacking the priest, but somehow it did not feel right, it felt as though it was supposed to be right to the outsider, but after his hospital encounter with Jacobs he was no longer an outsider, he was however an insider without knowledge. Marsh’s gaze kept drifting back to a large looking bible that was placed on the prayer mat, Marsh seemed to gain peace and confidence with every look, McCullum stood and walked across the room, he swept up the bi
ble which instantly elicited a panicked response from Marsh who attempted to gather his feet and intercept the bigger man. “Noooooo” he screamed, “Give it to me, give it to me” he staggered across the room and tried to pry it from McCullum”s hands.

  McCullum pushed away the weaker man, “Ah Houston, we have leverage” he shoved Marsh hard back to the floor, “I will burn this fucking thing if you do not tell me everything right now, and I do mean now, don’t you get it kid, you’re alone here, nobody’s coming for you, take a look around you are abandoned here” Marsh had the appearance of an addict, one gripped in the middle of bad withdrawal, his face was sweating profusely, his eyes beady and he looked petrified. “Why don’t we start with the name Baine, does that ring any bells in your batshit belfry?”

  Marsh looked on helplessly, his eyes darted around the room nervously, he looked trapped, his voice was cracked and broken, “Baine is a weapon of God, he is a sword to be used by the Knights Templar, by our saviour, our leader, Hugues de Payens, I am but a servant and I follow where my master leads me, but now I have failed my God and I am not worthy and I have brought shame upon our family”.

  “Who the hell is this de Payens, is he something to do with the church, with Jacobs?” McCullum demanded of the obviously disturbed youth, he was now thinking that the sooner he got the kid into a pysch ward the better, the book did seem to hold some sort of power over him, he looked down to study it closer. The large bible was heavy and coarse, the leather was rough and dark brown, he flipped it open, a smaller book was hidden within the pages, it appeared to be journal of some kind belonging to Marsh. He turned back to question Marsh further with about a million questions that were rattling around his head, blood was already flowing heavily from the kid’s left wrist, in the brief time that he been lost within his own thoughts the teenager had somehow managed to silently bite through the flesh of his own wrist, he dropped the book and torch and rushed to the spouting Marsh.

  “Jesus Christ, what did you do, what did you do” he tried desperately to stem the pumping blood that was darkening the floor and pooling around his knees as he knelt over the fading youth, he pulled off his own jumper and attempted to tie it around the torn opened wrist of the fading youth. Marsh now looked every inch the lost child that he clearly was, crimson blood trickled from his rapidly paling face, his skin had now become porcelain and almost translucent as his life ebbed from him, his expression became almost serene as he drifted away. McCullum frantically tried to resuscitate him but it seemed as though Marsh had made his decision and wanted to leave more than McCullum was unable to make him stay.

  “FUCK!!!” McCullum screamed into the deserted building, never before in his life had he felt quite so isolated, this was now the second kid to die in front of him this week and he had failed to prevent either. He pushed himself away from the cooling Marsh and sat back heavily, his elbows on his knees and his head in hands. He had spent his entire life maintaining a distance from everyone around him, subconsciously burning bridges whenever they had been rashly constructed, he had always been alone but never lonely and he now had the responsibility of two corpses to carry on his shoulders, he was burning with rage with now direction for his anger. His stomach churned viciously and he feared that if he started vomiting he would be unable to stop until his body cleansed itself of every dark and guilty thought he had ever had leaving nothing but an empty hollow bitter husk behind. The dropped flashlight was still rolling from side to side, its strong beam passed slowly across the room intermittently lighting Marsh’s body as it rolled on the uneven floorboards, it came to rest aimed at the dropped journal now residing next to McCullum, he looked down at the illuminated book that had been so important, in the coming days he would never quite know why but he picked it up and started to read.

  Hughes de Payens sat upon his throne; St Paul’s now housed its master once more. The hospital had been extremely draining on his abilities, especially in his already weakened state. Maintaining a sense of serenity during such a fractious time had been particularly difficult, the hovering masses had swarmed around his bedside whilst inside he was incandescent with rage at his scandalous predicament. He had burned and seethed with the audacity of a mindless peon such as Baine having gained such an outrageous upper hand. It had been centuries since he had tasted his own blood and it was not an occurrence that he wished to repeat, his healing powers were strong and fast but he was not completely invulnerable nor was he immortal, he could die if the wounds inflected were sustained and severe enough. He sat and pondered upon his chair in his office, despite the morning sun the building was cold, the stone was porous and the heat seeped outward despite the roaring fire constantly roasting the room. He had returned to the church first thing, only to find the housekeeper had passed him going the other way to take his hospital bed, he was forced again to play his part and wear the face of the concerned father of his parish and his people. Upon finding the missing Book of Enoch he had screamed and raged to the heavens, he had thrown and smashed furniture, flinging heavy oak as though it were paper, caring not who heard him and wishing that someone would indeed enter the room so that he could take out his frustration on flesh and bone, to feel them ground beneath his pounding fists. Eventually he had calmed enough to sit amidst the wreckage, to slow his thoughts and steady his raging mind. Now he sat and pondered, his senses were dulled by the missing book, it had been so very long since he had to rely solely on his own unaided abilities, the book had acted as a booster greatly enhancing his already increased strength and speed as well as his healing capacity, he was still far in excess of the humans that he walked amongst, but without the book he was already becoming ever more venerable. The door creaked open slowly, de Payens looked up angry at being disturbed despite his strict instructions to the contrary, the woman was tall, dark haired and beautiful, she walked with an animals grace and exuded confidence with every stride, she wore a tailored blue suit and despite her sleekly heeled shoes she emitted no clacks on the stone floor to herald her approach.