Stones Of Power - The Complete Chronicles Of The Jerusalem Man Part 108

'Did you hit it?' he asked. Beth sighted again and the rifle boomed.

'Son of a b.i.t.c.h,' whispered Beth. 'Got it twice, but it's still coming!'

Jumping from the fence the Deacon stumbled towards the fleeing couple, straining to see the creature beyond them. His chest was tight and pain flared in his left arm as, heart pounding, he ran on. He saw the young man release his hold on the woman's arm and swing round to face whatever was chasing them. Shannow saw it at the same time as Wallace Nash. It was huge, over seven feet tall, with blood flowing from two wounds in its chest. Nash fired his shotgun. The creature fell back. A second lunged out of the darkness and Shannow fired three times, smashing it from its feet.

'Get back!' yelled Beth. There are more of'them!'

Shannow's legs felt like lead, and all energy seemed to vanish. Wallace grabbed his arm.

'Come on, old man! You can make it!'

With the young man's help he backed away to the fence as Beth's rifle thundered. 'Into the house,' he wheezed. The house!'

Something hard struck him in the side. His body hit the fence rail, snapping the wood.

Hitting the ground hard, he lost hold of his rifle but instinctively drew a pistol and rolled.

A huge form bore down on him and he could feel hot, fetid breath on his face. Thrusting up with all his strength, he pushed the gun-barrel into the creature's mouth and pulled the trigger. The head snapped back as the bullet pa.s.sed through the skull. Beth took hold of his arm, dragging him clear of the dead beast.

All was quiet now.

The Deacon gathered up his fallen rifle and, together, they backed to the house.

The woman with the baby was sitting slumped in an armchair. Shannow pushed shut the door, dropping a thick bar into place to lock it. 'Check the windows upstairs,' he told the red-headed youngster. 'Make sure the shutters are in place.'

'Yes, sir,' said the boy. Shannow glanced around.

'Where are the people from the wagon?'

'Oh, my G.o.d, I forgot them,' said Beth.

Jeremiah's wagon was some two hundred yards from the farm buildings when the shots broke. The old man ducked, thinking at first that the shots were aimed at them. Meredith stood up on the driver's seat. 'I think they must be shooting rabbits,' he said. 'I can see a blonde woman with a rifle and an old man. . .d.a.m.n, I think it's that reprobate Jake.' 'I like the old boy,' said Jeremiah. 'Lively company.'

Meredith said nothing. The four oxen were tired now, and moving slowly, heads low. The ground beneath the wheels was soft from heavy overnight rain, and they were making little headway. Isis was still clinging to life, but she couldn't last much longer now, he knew, and he dreaded the moment when she was gone forever.

He saw Jake jump from the fence and run off, but his view was masked by the stone-built farm building. More shots followed. The wagon entered the yard, then one wheel sank into a deep mud hole. Jeremiah swore. 'I guess we're close enough,' he said.

A young woman came into sight, carrying a baby. She ducked behind the fence rails and ran on towards the house. A redheaded youngster came next, supporting Jake. Meredith would never forget the next sight. A huge beast reared up alongside Jake, an enormous arm clubbing the old man against the fence which shattered under his weight. As he fell Jake drew a pistol, but the creature leapt on him. In the fading light Meredith heard the m.u.f.fled shot, and saw blood spray up like a crimson mushroom from the creature's head.

The woman pulled Jake clear of the corpse and they made it to the house. The door slammed shut.

Several more of the creatures came into sight.

Only in that moment did Meredith realise the seriousness of their plight. It had been like watching a tableau, a piece of theatre. ' Get back inside,' hissed Jeremiah, twisting inhisseatand opening the front hatch to the inner cabin. The old man scrambled back, Meredith followed him. The hatch lock was a small bra.s.s hook.

'It won't hold them,' Meredith whispered.

'Stay silent,' urged Jeremiah.

A terrible scream rose from the oxen and the wagon rocked from side to side, the air filled with the sounds of howling and snarling. Meredith risked a glance through the narrow slit in the hatch - and wished that he hadn't. The still-struggling oxen were engulfed in a writhing ma.s.s of blood-spattered, silver-grey fur.

The rocking of the wagon continued for several minutes, then the two men sat quietly listening to the beasts feed. Meredith began to tremble, jerking with every snap of bone.

Jeremiah put his hand on the doctor's shoulder. 'Be calm now,' he whispered.

Moonlight shone through the cabin's wide windows.

Meredith and Jeremiah crouched on the floor beneath the left window, listening to the sounds of their own breaths. Meredith glanced up. Moonlight was shining directly on to the still, paleface of Isis as she lay upon the bed, one arm outside the coverlet.

A grotesque face appeared at the window above her. Steam clouded the gla.s.s, but Meredith could see the long fangs and the oval eyes, and what appeared to be a red stone on the creature's brow. The snout pressed against the window; and both men heard the snuffling as it sought out the smell of flesh.

The wagon rocked again as a second beast came up on the right, pushing at the wood.

Meredith's mouth was dry, and his hands continued to tremble so badly that he felt the movement must be obvious.

Suddenly the window was smashed to shards, gla.s.s peppering the cabin. A taloned hand gripped the frame, hauling on it as slowly the creature pulled itself half into the cabin, directly over Isis. Its snout lowered, its nose snuffled over the face of the unconscious woman. A low growl sounded, then it dropped back to the yard.

A shot sounded, making both men jerk. The creatures outside howled, and Meredith heard the padding of their paws as they moved away from the wagon.

'What are we going to do?' whispered Meredith.

'Stay still, boy. Wait.'

They'll come back. They'll tear us apart.'

Jeremiah eased himself to his knees and looked through the hatch. With great care he moved back alongside the panic-stricken doctor. 'They've gorged on the oxen, Doctor. I think that's why it left Isis.' Stepping over his companion, Jeremiah risked a glance from the right window. Meredith rose alongside him. The yard was empty.

'We've got to try for the house,' said Jeremiah.

'No!' The thought of going out into the open was more than Meredith could consider.

'Listen to me, son. I know you are frightened. So am I. But you said it yourself, to stay here is to die. The house looks solid, and there are people with guns inside. We have to risk it.'

Meredith looked down at the comatose woman. 'We can't leave her!'

'We surely can't carry her, Meredith. And she is beyond this world now. Come on, my boy.

Just follow me, eh?'

Jeremiah moved silently to the rear of the cabin and unfastened the door latch. As usual it gave out with a creak as it opened. Gingerly he lowered himself to the ground and Meredith scrambled after him.

'Don't make any noise,' warned Jeremiah. 'We'll walk across, and hope to G.o.d the people inside are watching for us. You understand?' Meredith nodded.

The night was silent, and there was no sign of the creatures as Jeremiah drew in a deep breath and began to make his way across the thirty yards of open s.p.a.ce that separated the wagon from the house. Meredith was behind him. Then the young doctor started to run and Jeremiah set off after him.

'Open the door!' screamed Meredith.

A creature emerged from behind the barn, howled and set off after them, covering the ground with immense speed. Meredith managed to reach the raised walkway around the house, then stumbled and fell on the steps. Jeremiah came up behind him and grabbed for his arm, trying to haul him upright.

The creature was close, but Jeremiah did not look back.

The door opened.

Jake stepped into sight with two pistols in his hands. Meredith lunged upright, colliding with Jake and knocking the old man aside. Jeremiah was just behind him. Something struck him in the back and a terrible pain tore through him.

Recovering his balance, Jake fired twice. The creature was smashed back from the walkway. Jake hauled Jeremiah inside, and a woman slammed the door behind him.

Meredith swung to see Jeremiah lying face down on the dirt floor with blood streaming from a terrible wound in his back. 'Why the h.e.l.l did you shout, boy?' stormed Jake, grabbing Meredith by his shirt.

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' Meredith pulled himself clear and knelt by Jeremiah, his hands trying to cover the gaping wound.

Jeremiah sighed and rolled to his side. Reaching up, he took hold of the doctor's blood- drenched hand. 'Don't . . . blame . . . yourself. You're a good . . . man.'

And then he was gone. 'You pitiful son of a b.i.t.c.h!' said Jake.

CHAPTER TWELVE Nothing that lives is without fear. It is a gift against recklessness, a servant against complacency in the face of danger. But like all servants it makes a bad master. Fear is a small fire in the belly to warm a man in the coldness of conflict. Let loose, it becomes an inferno within the walls which no fortress can withstand.

The Wisdom of the Deacon Chapter xxi * * *

Esther had fallen asleep and Oz was manfully trying to hold her steady in the saddle. Zerah Wheeler glanced back, and smiled at the boy. 'We'll rest soon,' she promised, leading the horse higher into the hills and cutting towards the west. There were many caves close by, hidden in the trees, and only a very good tracker could follow the trail she had left. The rifle was heavy in her hands, and the holstered pistol was beginning to chafe her leg. It's been too long since I strolled these hills, thought Zerah: I'm getting old and useless.

A cave-mouth beckoned, but it was narrow and south-facing, the wind whistling into the opening, stirring up dust. Zerah moved on, leading the old buckskin along a narrow ledge that widened into a deep, pear-shaped cave. At first the buckskin was reluctant to enter the dark, but Zerah coaxed her in with soft words and a firm pull of the rein. Inside it was as large as the biggest room back at the house, with a long, natural chimney opening out on to the stars. Zerah looped the reins over the buckskin's head, leaned the rifle against the rock wall and moved back to lift Esther. The little girl moaned in her sleep, then looped her arms around Zerah's neck.

'You get down by yourself, boy. Untie the blanket roll before you do.'

Oz untied the rawhide strips that held the roll, then lifted his leg over the saddle and jumped to the ground. 'You think they'll find us?' he asked.

'They'll wish they hadn't if they do,' said Zerah. 'You still got that pistol safe?'

'Yes, Frey,' he answered, patting the pocket of his black broadcloth jacket.

Zerah ruffled his fair hair. 'You're a good boy, Oz. Your father would be proud of you. Now you wait here with Esther while I gather some wood for a fire.' Oz spread the blanket roll and Zerah knelt and laid Esther upon it. The six-year-old turned to her side, her thumb in her mouth. She did not wake.

'Want for me to come with you, Frey?'

'No, son. You stay here. Look after your sister.'

Gathering up the rifle, she pa.s.sed it to the boy. 'It's a mite long for you, Oz, but it'll do no harm to get used to the feel.'

Zerah left the cave and walked back along the ledge. From this height, more than a thousand feet, she could see vast area of the plains below. There was no sign of pursuit.

But then, she reasoned, they could be in the trees, beneath the vast dense carpet of green below and stretching far away to the east.

Leaning back, she stretched the muscles around her lower spine. They ached like the devil, but she took a good deep breath and walked back into the shadows of the trees. Night was falling fast, and the temperature would soon drop. Zerah gathered an armful of dead wood and walked back to the cave, returning for five more loads before weariness called a halt.

From the pocket of her old sheepskin coat she took a pouch of tinder and carefully built a small fire.

Oz moved in close to her. 'They won't find us, will they, Frey?' he asked again.

'I don't know,' she told him, putting her thin arm around his shoulders and drawing him to her.

One of the men who had killed Oz's father had ridden up to the house and stopped at the well for water. He had seen Oz and Esther playing by the back fence. Zerah, not knowing the man, had walked from the house to greet the newcomer.

'Nice kids,' he said. 'Your grandchildren?'

'They surely are,' she told him. 'You pa.s.sing through?'

'Yep. Well, thank you for the water, Frey,' he said, reaching for the pommel of his saddle.

Esther, looking up and seeing him, screamed and jumped to her feet. 'He shot my daddy!'

The man dropped to the ground, but in that moment Zerah had dragged her pistol clear and pulled the trigger, the sh.e.l.l hammering into his thigh. His horse had reared and run, he grabbed for the pommel and was dragged for thirty yards. Zerah fired twice more, but missed. She had watched him haul himself into the saddle and ride off.

Knowing he would return, Zerah had packed some food and supplies and taken the children back into the mountains, heading for Purity. But the pursuers had cut her off and were camped across the trail as she reached the last rise. Luckily Zerah had not ridden over the rise, but had left the buckskin with Oz and had crawled to the lip to check the road.

Now they were deep in the mountains and, Zerah was pretty sure, they had lost their pursuers.

With the fire blazing Zerah rose and moved outside the cave-mouth, checking to see if any reflected light was flickering there. A carelessly laid camp-fire could be seen for miles.

However, once outside the cave no light could be seen, and high above what little smoke there was had been dissipated by the undergrowth and trees on the cliff-top.

Satisfied, Zerah walked back inside. Oz was curled up alongside Esther, and both were fast asleep.

'Makes you feel young again, woman,' said Zerah, covering the two children. And she felt a sense of pride. She had saved them from killers. 'You're not so useless,' she whispered.

Tomorrow they would be safe in town, and the Crusaders would be hunting the villains.

It had been a long time since she had visited Pilgrim's Valley, and she wondered what changes she would see.

In the distance a wolf howled. Zerah settled down to sleep alongside the children.

Sarento strolled through the wooded hills above the Atlantean ruin, enjoying the cloudless blue sky and the sounds of early morning birdsong. The wind was cool upon his red-gold skin, and for the first time in years he had no sense of hunger. With a thrill of intense pleasure, he recalled the gathering in the colosseum, the antic.i.p.ation and, at the last, the inflow of life. Rich and fulfilling and infinitely warming . . .

Below him was the camp of his elite, the five hundred h.e.l.lborn warriors he had sent through ahead of him. With them, and men like Jacob Moon, he would feed in this new world, and dream.

The Gateway was a desperately needed boon. His hunger in the old world had been painful, agonising, its clawing demands dominating his days. But here he could appreciate once more the beauty of a blue sky. His golden eyes focused on the ruined city. This was no fit place for a G.o.d, he thought as he gazed upon the derelict palace. Before it was two fallen pillars and a smashed lintel.

'Up!' he said. The distant stones groaned and raised themselves, powdered sections re- forming into shaped stone, the shards of the lintel flowing back into one whole and rising through the air to settle into place. Tiny remnants of paint grew, spreading out over the motifs on the lintel - fierce reds, vibrant blues, golden yellows. Golden tiles reappeared on the roof of the palace, catching the sunlight.

Trees flowered in the palace gardens, rose-bushes sprouted. Cracked and broken walkways repaired themselves, fallen statues climbing back to their plinths, their stone limbs as supple as the warriors who in ages past inspired them.

Gold leaf decorated the windows of the palace, and long-dry fountains sent sprays of water high into the air in the gardens.

Sarento gazed down on the city and smiled . . . Then the smile faded.