Infanticide (Fallen Gods Saga Book 2)

by T. W. Malpass

  The power station was locked up tight but one of the windows was not secured properly. Mark Hampton forced it open with a chunk of wood. Eight hours had passed since then, all of them crouched and shivering in the cold of the night. They were desperate for something to eat and drink, but it was too risky. From their vantage point, they could make out the lights from the army barricades down below.

  ‘Someone needs to go out there, find the nearest house and steal some food,’ Mark said.

  ‘We get back in that car and drive to the village, if we aren’t killed by one of those maniacs, we’ll probably lead them right back here,’ Cylon replied. He knelt down next to his grandmother, placing a hand on Sarah’s straggly hair.

  ‘So we don’t take the car – we walk.’

  ‘And if they see us? That’s suicide, Mark,’ Todd said, a tremor in his voice.

  ‘The army will end this very soon anyway – one way or the other,’ Cylon said.

  ‘How do you know that? How do you know what’s going on isn’t some kind of military experiment, and they are studying what is happening to us?’ Mark said.

  Silvia, Cylon’s grandmother, felt the need to speak. ‘You’ve been watching too many films, young man.’

  Mark scowled and folded his arms tight to his chest. ‘Fine then, we’ll just stay in here and rot until the soldiers decide to come up here and torch the place,’ he said.

  ‘Shut up,’ Sarah said. She stopped crying, her faced poised and attentive. ‘Shut up and listen.’

  Above the pelting rain, there was a scratching, and the sound of something being manipulated or forced. They traced it to the shadows behind them. It came from the windows at the back of the building. Whatever was making the noise had already gotten inside.

  ‘I don’t want to die like this, Nana, not like this.’ Sarah said, terrified.

  ‘Everybody up! Come on, get up – as high as you can go,’ Cylon said. Although the power station had been stripped, there were still intersections of piping secured to the walls, reaching three quarters of the way to its ceiling. He began pushing everyone towards them.

  ‘I’ll never make it up there, Simon. Leave me behind and save yourselves.’ Silvia looked resigned to her fate, maybe relieved to face it.

  ‘No way, Nana.’ Cylon found the easiest section of pipe to climb and started to lift Silvia onto it. Struggling to take the strain of Silvia’s weight, he looked round and saw Sarah standing on the spot, nervously rubbing her face. ‘Sarah, for God’s sake, start climbing.’ He could hear at least two pairs of feet scuttling across the concrete floor from the rear of the building. Sarah did as she was told; clambering up until she was level with Silvia, but the two of them took up all the available space on the narrow pipe.

  ‘We have to go.’ Todd sprinted to the opposite side and began climbing for his life.

  ‘Just keep going, Nana,’ Cylon shouted.

  ‘Don’t worry about me. Run, Simon, run.’ Silvia pointed to the figures emerging from the shadows. It was Father Devon and his teenage daughter, Polly. Their hands and faces worn and blood-soaked, their eyes empty. They lunged towards Cylon, who broke into such a desperate sprint that on reaching the opposite wall, he almost smashed right into it. He clung to the nearest pipe, frantically trying to get the foothold that would take him off the ground. He could hear Father Devon and Polly pounding up behind him. His basketball boots finally made full contact with the metal, and he was able to haul himself up. He found another foothold quickly, and then another. Cylon glanced back to see that the two black-eyed devils had turned their attention to Sarah. She’d not climbed any higher than when he’d left her. She was too busy trying to help her grandmother. Mark had refused to backtrack and assist either one of them, now, almost at the top of his section of piping.

  ‘Sarah!’ Cylon shouted, pointing to where Polly was starting to scale the wall below her, while Father Devon went after Silvia.

  Sarah grabbed a handful of Silvia’s blouse in an attempt to lift her a little higher. With one sharp tug, the fabric of Silvia’s clothing ripped and Sarah lost her balance, falling from the pipe. She struck the one below, clutching to keep hold of it.

  ‘Sarah!’ Silvia reached down to take her hand.

  ‘Just go!’ Sarah cried. She knew it was over. She could see the blood dripping from Polly’s lips as she closed in on her.

  A hollow sound suddenly echoed through the empty building. Cylon looked across to the piping that Todd James clung to, as it separated from the wall, throwing the young man to the ground. He struck the concrete with a sickening thud, and before he could come to his senses, Father Devon and Polly jumped down from the opposite wall to set upon him.

  None of the others dared to look. Todd’s screams soon turned to gargles. The only sounds they heard after his death rattle was the tearing of flesh and the spilling of blood. The killers soon turned their black eyes to Sarah. They would easily drag her from the wall, and her fate would be that of poor Todd’s.

  Cylon knew he had no choice. ‘I’m going to drop down and make a run for the side door. Once I’m outside I’ll try to lead them away from here, and hopefully give them the slip,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot. You can’t outrun them,’ Mark shouted back.

  ‘They’ll kill us all if we stay here – I’m going.’ Cylon let go of the pipes, falling nearly ten feet, twisting his left ankle as he landed. Father Devon and Polly were onto him at once.

  Before Cylon could limp halfway to the side door, Father Devon blocked his route to it. Looking into the man’s black eyes, Cylon longed to clamber up the wall once more, but Polly had taken up a position just behind him, making retreat impossible.

  ‘Simon!’ Sarah cried out, pressing her head against the pipe she clung to, blotting out the sight.

  Father Devon opened his bloodied mouth to blast out the most inhuman of screams. It sounded like nothing on earth, assaulting their eardrums. Cylon covered his ears as Devon prepared to pounce. There was no way out now.

  A loud metallic blow cut the scream dead. Father Devon’s head shifted violently to one side. Cylon heard the man’s neck snap under the strain and his body went limp, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

  Jerrico stood behind the fallen priest, wielding a sturdy looking bar above his head. Polly made a beeline for him. As she leapt through the air, Jerrico sidestepped and swung the pipe into her chest. No sooner had she hit the ground, he was over her, striking her with the blunt piece of metal, obliterating her face and caving in her skull. Her arms and legs finally stopped flailing, and Jerrico dropped his crude weapon to embrace his friend.

  ‘Jerrico,’ Cylon cried.

  ‘It’s alright, mate.’ The two men released each other. ‘Get your family down from there. It’s safe now.’

  Cylon helped Silvia and Sarah from the pipes. Mark Hampton was ashamed when he returned to the ground, unable to make eye contact with anyone. As they made their way to the power station’s exit, Cylon peered at Father Devon’s tangled body. His eyes were no longer black. They were back to how they used to be. ‘Look.’ Cylon nudged his friend.

  ‘I know,’ Jerrico replied. ‘Come on, I need to talk to you outside.’

  When they stepped out into the darkness, they could hear gunfire echoing around the village below them. ‘The soldiers are moving in,’ Jerrico said.

  ‘How did you know we were up here?’ Cylon asked.

  ‘I followed those two things – saw your car at the gates.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I looked inside. I’m sorry about your Gramps, dude,’ Jerrico said.

  Cylon sighed back. ‘What’s happening to our village?’

  ‘Even if we had the time, it wouldn’t be fair to give you an explanation.’ Jerrico paused, glancing to the village, then back to the power station. ‘You need to stay up here until the army have finished. If you don’t, you’ll just get caught in the crossfire.’

  ‘What about you?’ Cylon asked.

  ‘I nee
d to find Kate. Have you seen her?’

  ‘I saw her mother.’ Cylon shook his head. ‘She was like Father Devon and Polly. I’m sorry, everything happened so fast.’

  ‘It’s okay. By the time you knew something was wrong, he probably had her already.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘…Can I borrow your car? I had to ditch mine to get past the perimeter.’

  ‘Sure,’ Cylon replied. ‘Just let me go get my Grandpa.’

  Jerrico turned to Mark Hampton, who was still staring at the ground. ‘You want to come and help him get his Gramps, Mark?’ Mark nodded and followed them down the hill to the security gate, leaving Silvia and Sarah huddled together, trying to recover from their ordeal.

  Jerrico helped Cylon to lift his Grandpa’s body from the back seat, laying him on the ground.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Cylon asked.

  ‘He’s down there.’ Jerrico gestured toward the lights emanating from Sweet Dreams. Even above the gunfire, they could still hear the faint melodies of The Ink Spots.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘Charles Cradleworth.’

  ‘That guy who came to the Seraph? He’s behind all of this, isn’t he? Who the fuck is he, J?’

  Jerrico clambered into the driver’s seat and closed the door, rolling down the window so he could reply. ‘He’s the bogeyman.’

  Not the answer Cylon wanted. He watched Jerrico pull away and head down the hill towards the lights and the music.

  To My Friend and Teacher

  1

  Edworth, Bedfordshire

  Kaleb and Josie crept from the Manor’s grounds around 9:45pm. Everyone else had retired to their rooms, and Ashley had fallen asleep in front of the television. They walked through the night until they reached the village of Shortown, where they managed to catch the last bus to Sandy, and from there boarded a coach bound for Stevenage.

  Even at such a late hour, the roads were still loaded with traffic. Josie could hear Kaleb’s heavy breathing in the seat next to hers. The monotonous rhythm of the coach had rocked him to sleep. She wanted to reach out and touch his face but held back for fear of waking him. She ran her fingers over her seat cover. The patch she touched was kind of sticky and rough at the same time, as if something had been spilt or had singed it. The air in the coach smelt of damp, and she detected a hint of tobacco smoke coming from the seats at the back, probably someone sneaking a cigarette on a journey earlier that day.

  They hit the motorway section of the M1 and the volume of traffic increased dramatically. Josie closed her eyes, considering whether she could actually drift off to sleep, when she felt the presence of someone watching her. ‘Hello,’ Josie enquired.

  ‘Is he your boyfriend?’ the little girl in the seat in front asked bluntly.

  Her question caught Josie off-guard and she smiled. ‘Erm, yes – yes, I suppose he is.’

  ‘You don’t sound very sure.’

  ‘Oh, well, we haven’t known each other for that long. At least, we thought we hadn’t,’ Josie said.

  The little girl paused, obviously confused by Josie’s last admission. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s kind of difficult to explain.’

  ‘Elisha? I hope you’re not pestering whoever is sitting behind us.’ Another voice cut into the conversation. Josie heard the man twisting in his seat to look back at her.

  ‘No, daddy.’

  ‘She’s okay, really. She was just being sociable,’ Josie said.

  ‘You don’t know my Elisha. Even at seven, she can disguise a formal interrogation as a casual chat,’ the man replied.

  ‘Ha, she sounds like a very clever girl.’

  ‘You have no idea. My name is Alan, by the way, Alan Roper.’ The man held out his hand in front of her, and when she didn’t reach to shake it, he realised she could not see him.

  ‘Josie De Morgan.’ She recognised the awkwardness of the brief silence that followed.

  ‘Oh, and this is my ever precocious daughter, Elisha,’ Alan said.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Josie,’ Elisha said.

  Kaleb stirred, lifting his forehead from the glass of the coach window. He rubbed his tired eyes.

  ‘Your boyfriend’s awake.’ Elisha chuckled as Kaleb drew a lazy hand through his curly mop of hair and stretched in his seat.

  He looked curiously at the girl and her father peeping over the backs of their seats, then turned to Josie. ‘Where are we?’ he mumbled.

  ‘We’re about fifteen miles from Stevenage, and by the looks of the gridlock, it’s going to take us another couple of hours to get there,’ Alan said.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Josie said, tracing her fingers along the side of Kaleb’s neck.

  ‘How long have I been out?’

  ‘About twenty minutes, I think.’

  ‘Everybody’s panicking.’ Alan gazed through the window as he spoke. ‘Although apparently there are other countries that have it worse than us. Someone told me there was a riot in Czechoslovakia, which caused a fire that spread to a chemical plant. The explosion killed almost a hundred people. The chemicals released may kill hundreds more over time. The whole world’s gone to hell.’ He fell silent, watching the various cars and trucks cram themselves even closer together. People were abandoning their vehicles and walking on the hard shoulder.

  ‘We’re trying to put as much distance between them and the capital as we possibly can,’ Alan said, turning back to Josie and Kaleb.

  ‘Why is that?’ Kaleb asked.

  ‘Have you not been watching the news?’

  ‘We’ve been a bit preoccupied.’

  ‘Some leading scientists think that whatever is causing this meteorological change, ground zero is somewhere in the London area. It’s rumoured that the government are building emergency shelters in the far north. Elisha and I are going to collect my ex wife and head in that direction. Problem is, just about everyone else on the move has the same idea,’ Alan said.

  Kaleb took another look out of the window. Many drivers had decided to switch off their engines and headlights to save power. He watched as a group of five people plodded past the coach, two of them struggling to carry a large piece of luggage, another cradling a child. They continued to stumble through the darkness, aided by the weak beam of a torch. ‘Maybe we should get out and walk,’ Kaleb said under his breath.

  ‘Not one of your better ideas.’ Josie stroked his arm and smiled.

  ‘You wouldn’t catch me doing that,’ Alan said. ‘There are widespread muggings reported already. I guess some people are taking whatever they can before the shit hits the fan.’ He patted Elisha on the head. ‘Sorry, honey.’ She nestled closer. ‘So what is it that has you two going in the wrong direction?’ Alan asked.

  Josie was about to open her mouth when Kaleb interrupted her. ‘Josie’s aunt is unwell. We agreed we would go and collect her from her home in Tylers Green. Maybe we’ll all head north when we get back.’

  ‘It will be the best decision you ever make. Soon as we get to Beaconsfield, we’re out of here. I’ve got the whole route planned out,’ Alan said.

  Growing restless, Elisha tugged on his arm to pull him away from the conversation.

  ‘Might be a good idea to get some sleep, cause we aren’t going anywhere for a while. Good to meet you.’ Alan smiled at them, disappearing behind the back of his seat.

  Josie remembered telling Elisha that she and Kaleb hadn’t really known each other long. Kaleb’s story about going to pick up her aunt on behalf of her parents must have sounded odd. Elisha was sharp enough to know one of them was lying.

  Kaleb leaned in towards Josie, smelling her scent, mixed with the faded perfume on her neck. ‘Why so nervous?’ he whispered.

  ‘Something I said that I shouldn’t,’ Josie replied.

  He brushed his lips against her cheek as a truck crawled by the window, cloaking them in the privacy of shadow. ‘Just be careful. We don’t know who maybe listening,’ he said.

  2

&nb
sp; Walton, England

  Jerrico abandoned Cylon’s car at the end of Hamilton Road and made his way into the village square. The music of The Ink Spots filled his ears and the lights from the post office building guided him through the darkness. As his feet hit the cobbled pedestrian zone, he came upon Cradleworth’s flock of converted, about a quarter of Walton’s residence; people he grew up with. They stood shoulder to shoulder, filling every yard of space from the rows of shops to the fountain, all focused on him with their gaping blackness. Their bodies were perfectly still. Aside from the music, the only sound Jerrico could hear was the rain drops as they pelted down against the standing mass.

  Even when he got right up close, they did not move. He noticed Pippa Harrison on the front line. She had been his first girlfriend at primary school; the kind that you just hold hands with in the playground, knowing all the other kids will be watching. She was gaunt and pale, as if her skin had thinned down to her skull. Her expression tortured him, and the vacuous pits in place of her eyes forced him to look away, further down the line. In an instant, Jerrico felt the swift descent in the pit of his stomach. It was Adam Meadows, Kate’s father. There would be no more looks of disapproval from him, not even the look of mild pity that he had given to Jerrico the last time their paths crossed. All he offered now echoed back from the blackness of his eyes.

  Jerrico wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction, and would have, had he not sensed beyond doubt that Kate was inside the new store – Sweet Dreams, a place created by his nemesis in order that he might taste a few more of this world’s culinary delights. Jerrico had known it would be a trap all along, and had walked into it willingly. If something happened to Kate, the world would not matter. As far as he was concerned, it could go straight to hell.