Dark Winter (39 page)

There was no way she could fight them all.

She watched in horror as the thud-thud-thuds resulted in the doors being broken open, and the Zeryths poured in.

“Jacinta!!!!” screamed Toril.

She could not run towards them, that would be suicide. There had to be another way into the chapel. Toril decided to make a run for it to the rear of the old building on the other side, and sure enough, found a huge wrought iron door there.

She pulled at it with her remaining strength, but it would not budge. Suddenly, she felt dizzy. She had taken a shot from Dana at full power, after all. She could deal such feelings later. Right now, they were an irritation.

The moans became a crescendo. Zeryths were crowding behind her. She had been found, and had nowhere else to go.

             
              *                            *                            *

I tried to stop Beth, but she was in a frenzied state. Poor girl. I had just tried to kill her, and Curie might still end up achieving that if he managed to tip her fragile state into full-blown insanity.

Beth shoulder barged her way into the next room, and crashed onto the floor.

I wanted to kick Curie, hard, for teasing her. But soon, he would get all that was coming to him. It was not for me to deal out judgement and death.

Instead, I chased after Beth into the next room, which, on the surface, looked empty. There was no-one here. I turned to run back to Curie, but I felt something sharp in my back.

“Don’t move, Romilly,” said Beth.

“It’s not your fingers this time, is it?”

“You know it.”

“Beth, Curie’s messing with you, don’t you see?
He’s trying to turn me against you, the old devil.”

“You’re pleading for your life, after what you just tried to do to me?”

“I don’t know what came over me,” I said. The arrow head probed angrily, but I didn’t feel like it had broken my skin. Beth might be angry, and rightly so, but I didn’t feel she had the will to hurt me.

She withdrew the bow.

“Turn around.”

Thank God she had seen sense.

“
Slowly
,” she said icily.

Oh. Not so good.

“You will help me find her, Romilly.”

I wanted to say that there probably wasn’t a sister, and that Curie was using this lie to distract us, as a means of escape. Again. Beth clearly wanted to know for sure, so I couldn’t refuse her.

“The room is empty,” said Beth, “so she must be behind one of the panels. Help me break them, Romilly. My legs are useless. I’ve healed my knee enough to walk though.”

The panels were just that, and easy to break. I kicked them hard, and they splintered easily. With my hands, I tore a huge panel back, and inside, we saw two coffins.

One was white, with gold handles on the side of the casket. A child no more than ten or twelve could fit in there.

The stench of death hung in the air. I wanted to vomit, I really did, but held back.

Beth strained her neck, and slowly followed me, using the bow as a rudimentary walking stick to steady herself.

We both looked at each other.

“It’s the other one,” we said at the same time.

The room was impossibly dusty. I wretched violently, and Beth started too.

“We haven’t much time,” she said. “We’ve got to open it,” she spluttered.

“Curie will get away,” I spat out.

“He won’t get far. Come on Romilly.
Heave
.”

We both dug our nails in under the lid. I wasn’t sure was Beth was thinking, but I for one was terrified. Whatever lay in that coffin, I didn’t want to see it.

*
                            *                            *

“Get away from me, you demons!” screamed Toril at the top of her voice.

She swished violently with her wand, but hands grabbed at her hair, and fingers groped her abdomen. Toril knew of the typical behaviour of zombies. They burrowed into your stomach and pulled your insides out.

She cursed repeatedly as the clammy fingers probed at her stomach. To think it had come to this.

*
                            *                            *

Once the dust had settled, we could make out the remains of a human body. A girl, maybe no more than eighteen or twenty, judging by the size of the corpse.

Save for a few strands of hair, there was no way to know if this woman had been Beth’s sister.

There was one thing that caught Beth’s eye, and her scowl at me softened.

“Oh Milly,” she cried. “It’s a cross, just like the one I had. Milly. I really had a sister!”

I didn’t buy it. This could be anyone, anyone at all. But this had been Curie’s game all along. He had a death wish, and could not escape Dana, or Diabhal, by a conventional death.

No. Someone else would have to do it. Someone unconnected. Someone pure.

Beth
.

As these thoughts raced through my mind, it was too late. She had pushed through the pain, and let the adrenaline carry her.

She was going to kill Curie, and the damnedest thing of all? He had planned it all along.

*
                            *                            *

“Toril! Jesus! Get in here!” shouted Troy.

He kicked out at the zombies, and they backed off. He brandished a large candleholder at them, and the flames licked at the group, and they seemed to recoil.

It gave Troy the time and space he needed to free Toril from the grabbing hands.

“Get back you scum,” he shouted.

Troy managed to shut the door, and bolt it securely.

He desperately wanted to kiss Toril, and tell her everything would be alright.

She was hurt, he could see that, but she was breathing. Just.

“Withers, damnit, don’t die on me here.”

Toril’s eyes flickered into life.

“You look terrible, Jackson.”

“You’re not looking so hot yourself, my lady,” said Troy. “You’re not going to die on me, are you?”

“Not a chance. But when I am better, you have got some questions to answer. Boy, have you.”

“At least you’re still talking to me,” said Troy.

“For the moment,” said Toril. “We do have a problem.”

“Just the one?”

“I prefer to see all challenges as a collective problem,” said Toril. “You should know that about me by now.”

Toril slowly sat up, and hugged her knees. Then, looking around, she wore a panicked look in her face.

“What I also know,” said Troy, “is when you try and look all cool but inside, you are tripping. Now what is it? Our pale-faced friends outside aren’t going to wait. I have to get you to safety.”

“My wand, and my pentacle,” said Toril. “I’ve lost them both. It’s over, Troy.”

Looking at him now, the anger she had felt evaporated. He had made a good job of it, but there was no mistaking the wound. A zeryth had wounded him, and whatever time Troy had left on this earth, would not be much.

There would be no final kiss, no way to be close again. The demons had even taken that from her.

“Then if it’s over, let it be, Toril. I’m going to stay with you.”

He went to hug her, but she put her hands up towards his chest, but took care not to touch him.

“You have to go outside, Troy, and be with them. You know this.”

“Then why did you come here?” said Troy, desperation in his voice. “I came here to save you, and now, you want me out? Is that it?”

“You’re hurt. You can’t save me.”

“I know, but I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t, Troy. You just can’t.”

“Toril, please.”

“If you stay, you will hurt me for sure.”

“I promise you, I won’t. I just saved you, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” said Toril. “But when you become one of them, you will hurt me. I don’t have the power to stop you.”

“You think you are only strong because of your pentacle and that wand? We’re all much stronger than we realise.”

“Is that why you delivered Romilly into the hands of Curie? Why you threw that axe at Dana? She can’t be killed, Troy! He sent you on a suicide mission, only it’s Jacinta, and not you, who are dead!”

Okay, cheap shot, thought Toril. But her head hurt, her back was wracked in pain, and her boyfriend was about to join the legions of Zerythra that were banging down on the door.

Instead of getting angry at her, Troy wanted to hold her, and wipe the tears from Toril’s face.

“I suppose this is my punishment for hurting Jacinta,” said Troy, “but I really was aiming for Dana. I…I had no control over what I was doing, you have to believe me.”

Toril’s face, which had been contorted in equal amounts of pain and rage, softened.

“I know. I’d like to think we always have control over what we’re doing. Maybe it’s much less than we realise.”

Troy had come around to accepting his fate. “I’m glad it will be you that will do it though, Toril, you know, when the time comes. Don’t feed me to the wolves, will you?”

Toril was trying to consider all possibilities. If she left things as they are, Troy would turn into a full zeryth, and would kill her. If she went outside, the group of Zerythra would kill her, go find Romilly and Beth, assuming they were still alive, and kill them too.

Troy’s situation was unsalvageable. He would turn into one of them, soon enough, maybe hours, maybe a few minutes. It was impossible to tell.

She would have to kill him, but how?

Troy seemed to read her mind. He got up, started to walk around, and just as Toril was about to say
“Where are you going?”
Troy returned.

“It’s rather heavy,” he said, holding up a gold-plated candlestick in his hand. “You might need both arms to swing it, but yeah, with enough momentum, it should be okay. Make sure it’s in one, Toril, okay?”

Oh my.
thought Toril
.  He’s thinking of doing, what I was having to think of doing. I just didn’t have the sense of rage with Troy, that I had against Dana, and we all saw how that ended. Curie was right. I was pathetic.

Troy continued, unabated, and handed Troy the candlestick. He was right, it was really heavy.

“Come on now Withers, no self-pity. This is not the time.”

Troy dropped to his knees and placed his hands on the floor.