Authors: Kevin Ashman
Mortuus Virgo (48 page)
India’s eyes widened as realisation dawned.
‘Oh my God, Brandon,’ she said, ‘It’s not a date, it’s a label. The numbers represent Roman numerals.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The number 100 was represented by the letter ‘M’ and the number 5 was a ‘V’
She looked at Brandon with hope in her eyes.
‘Don’t you see, Brandon, MV are the first letters of Mortuus Virgo. They must have been carved by Jacob as a sick taunt to anyone passing. This is the one, Brandon, We’ve found her.’
----
Brandon rapidly swept the rest of the snow off the tomb with his arm. Underneath the snow, the lid of the tomb was six inches of solid granite, but in the centre, another, smaller and more modern slab sat its own, the mottled concrete finish looking completely out of place against the natural stone. Brandon pushed it to one side, revealing a circular hole underneath, the ragged edges showing where someone had drilled a ring of holes in the slab before knocking it through to make an access hole.
‘She must be down there,’ gasped India, ‘The poor thing.’ She leant over and shouted into the darkness, ‘Camille, are you there?’ She fell silent and waited for an answer. ’Camille, sweetheart,’ she shouted again, ‘If your there, just make a noise. We are here to help.’
When there was still no answer, she started to take off her coat.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Brandon
‘I’m going down there,’ said India.
‘No, said Brandon, ‘Mike sent for help. We can get this thing apart within the hour.’
‘She may not have an hour,’ said India, ‘I have to go down there
now
.’
‘Then let me go down,’ said Brandon.
‘Oh yes,’ said India, ‘Have you seen your midriff recently?’
‘Point taken,’ said Brandon, looking at the diameter of the hole, ‘Okay but hang on.’ He turned to Mike. ‘Have you got a torch?’ he asked.
Mike opened one of his pouches on his utility vest and handed over a pencil torch.
‘Take this,’ said Brandon, giving the torch to India, ‘If she is alive, let me know what you need and we will send it down. If she’s not, we’ll pull you out straight away. Okay?
‘Yes,’ she said nervously and hoisted herself up to sit on the tomb. She lifted her legs up and dangled them into the hole. Brandon took hold of her wrists and braced himself.
‘Good luck,’ he said, and India slid herself over the edge. Brandon grimaced as she descended into the darkness and he leant forward until his shoulders were almost completely into the tomb.
‘Can you feel the floor?’ he shouted.
‘No.’
‘Hang on, I’ll pull you back up.’
‘No,’ shouted India, ‘Let me go.’
‘I’m not letting you go,’ shouted Brandon, ‘You don’t know how far it is.’
‘Brandon,’ shouted India, ‘I know what I am doing, just let go.’
‘You sure?’
‘
Brandon,’
she shouted.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said, ‘I’ll let you go. Bend your knees and roll when you hit the floor. Here goes.’ He let go of her wrists and India fell into the darkness.
----
India expected to hit a hard floor, but to her surprise she landed on a soft surface, twisting her ankle in the process. She sat up, coughing as she inhaled a mouthful of dust.
‘You okay?’ shouted Brandon from above.
‘Think so,’ she said and retrieved the torch from her pocket. The narrow beam of light was quite effective in the dark and she shone it around the tiny space.
The room was about ten foot square and was totally empty except for a small alcove cut into the wall. Within the alcove, a glazed pottery urn reflected the light from the torch back at her. The soft surface she landed on was revealed to be an old mattress that must have been rolled up and forced through the hole above. Empty crisp wrappers and water bottles littered the floor, evidence of recent life but there was no sign of the girl. India double checked the room for hidden doors, finding none. She stood in the centre of the room, turning slowly, totally confused. It didn’t make sense, she had to be here somewhere.
Her gaze returned to the urn. It was quite small for the alcove and sat slightly to one side of centre. She walked slowly over and stopped facing the alcove. The urn was beautifully decorated with multicoloured glazes and the lid was sealed with a thick layer of Red wax.
India caught her breath as a slight movement caught her eye in the tiny space behind the urn. She shone her torch into the alcove and slowly released her breath in relief.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she said gently, ‘You must be Camille.’
----
A tear stained face peered back at her in terror. A little girl was squashed into the tiny space, her knees drawn up to her chin in order to fit. She nodded slowly.
‘I thought so,’ she said, ‘My name is India’
‘Like the country?’
‘Yes said India,’’ Like the country.’
‘That’s a pretty name.’
‘Thank you,’ said India, ‘I like yours too.’
‘Have you come to take me home?’
‘I have,’ said India, ‘But first we have to get you out of this little hole, Is that okay.’
The little girl nodded, and wiped her runny nose.
‘Good, then let’s move this out of the way, shall we?’ She picked up the urn by the handles, but before she could place it on the floor, her foot slipped on an empty water bottle and she fell headlong into the darkness, emptying the urn’s contents across the tomb floor as it smashed into dozens of pieces.
India coughed violently as she inhaled micro particles of ash, the remains of somebody long dead. She got to her feet and spat out some more ash.
‘Are you okay?’ asked the tiny voice.
‘I’m fine, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘Just a silly slip.’ She turned back and helped Camille from the alcove.
‘Wow, it’s a bit tight in there,’ she said, ‘It must have been awfully uncomfortable.’
‘It was my hiding place,’ said Camille, ‘I thought you was the horrible man, coming back to get me.’
‘What man?’
‘The one who did all the nasty things to me.’
‘Oh sweetheart,’ said Rose, ‘Come here.’ She opened her arms and cuddled her tightly. ‘You’re safe now. That man will never hurt you again.’
India was surprised at the strength of the girl’s embrace and eventually had to prise her arms from around her neck.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘Time to get you out of here. I am going to lift you up in the air, and a nice policeman is going to pull you out of that hole up there, Is that okay?’
‘Will you come up as well?’
‘Of course, I will,’ said India, ‘But there is only room for one at a time.’
‘Is the policeman nice?’ asked Camille.
‘Really, really nice.’
‘Will he have chocolate?’
India laughed gently and brushed the girl’s dirty fringe from her eyes.
‘Well, if he doesn’t, I’m sure someone will get you some really quickly. How about that?’
‘Okay,’ said Camille.
Two minutes later, India watched the girl’s legs disappear out of the hole as she was pulled from the tomb. Brandon’s face reappeared, framed by the, now clear night sky.
‘Won’t be long,’ India he called, ‘Just going to get some rope to pull you up.’
‘No problem,’ said India, and took the opportunity to look around the tomb once more. The beam from her torch fell on the broken urn and she walked over to examine it more closely. She picked up a piece of the pottery and examined the exquisite decoration.
As her hands disturbed the ashes, something beneath caught her eye and she brushed the ashes away gently to see what it was. The item was dirty with age but before she could make any assumptions, Brandon called out from above.
‘Come on, India, we’re ready here.’
India placed the item in her pocket and rushed over to the rope dangling from the hole above. She put her foot in the loop at the end and gripped tightly with both hands.
‘Okay,’ she shouted, ‘Start pulling.’
----
‘Where is she?’ asked India, when she was finally pulled free.
‘In safe hands,’ said Brandon, ‘One of the Nuns is looking after her and there is an ambulance already on its way.’
‘I must go to her,’ said India and ran into the Convent. She found her in the hall, wrapped in a blanket and being spoon fed warm soup by Sister Agnes. India walked quickly over and knelt in front of her.
‘Hello, Camille,’ she said
‘Are you India?’ asked the girl.
‘That’s right, I told you I would follow.’
‘You are very pretty said the girl.’
‘So are you,’ laughed India, ‘Though very dirty.’
‘I haven’t washed for ages,’ said Camille.
‘Me neither,’ said India. ‘Did they give you any chocolate?’
‘No,’ said Camille sadly.
‘I tell you what,’ said India, ‘When this is all over, and you are well again, I will buy you the biggest bar of chocolate I can find for being so brave, how about that.’
‘I would like that,’ said Camille.
The door opened and a team of paramedics came into the hall.
‘Will you stay with me?’ asked Camille.
‘No, you have to go home, now. These people are like doctors and will look after you. Is that okay?’
Camille nodded.
‘Good, and I will see you again real soon.’
‘Don’t forget the chocolate,’ said Camille.
‘I won’t,’ laughed India, and blew her a kiss.
Camille returned the compliment and smiled before being led away by the female paramedic.
Brandon came in and sat next to India.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I think so, she said, wiping away a tear.
‘You’ve been great,’ he said, ‘But it’s all over now.’
‘Any longer and she may have died,’ said India.
‘If it wasn’t for Mike and his gang, we would all be dead,’ said Brandon.
‘Just as well you called them,’ said India.
‘I didn’t,’ said Brandon, ‘I made the arrangements with Mike, but didn’t operate the beacon. The last time I saw it was in Sister Bernice’s cell.’
‘You think she operated it?’
‘Pointless, it works using the satellite system, and there is no signal in the valley.’
‘Why don’t you ask her,’ said India.
‘I will,’ said Brandon looking around, ‘I wonder where she is?’
----
Two miles away, on top of the hill at the end of the valley, a squad of soldiers were searching the snow covered forest floor, their eyes seeking something very specific. One stopped in his tracks and put his hand up to signal those around him.
‘Stop,’ he shouted, ‘I’ve found it.’ A mound of snow lay at his feet, and just beneath the surface, the flashing lights of three LED bulbs were flashing green. He knelt down and scraped away the snow to expose the beacon.’
‘Shit,’ said the soldier and scraped more snow away revealing a grey frozen hand still clutching the beacon.
‘Poor sod,’ said one of the soldiers, ‘Who is it?’
The first soldier scraped away more snow and stood back in surprise.
‘Fucking hell,’ he said quietly,’ It’s a Nun!’
All four soldiers stared down at the frozen features of Sister Bernice.
‘Wow!’ said the soldier, ‘She must have come up here in the storm. Didn’t stand a chance, poor cow.’
----
Littlewick Green - England 2010
‘So,’ said Brandon, ‘I hear you went back to the Convent recently.’
‘I did,’ said India, ‘The new Mother Superior kindly allowed me back into the Tomb where we found Camille.’
‘Really? Why go back down there?’
‘Oh, just something I had to do. When I was down there the first time, I accidentally broke an urn of ashes. I couldn’t leave them like that, all over the floor, so I had a new one made and the convent arranged for a small internment ceremony to re dedicate the ashes.’
‘Oh,’ said Brandon, I see.’
The sun beat down on both of them. It had been several months since the Cult of Mortuus Virgo had been uncovered and they were back in the village of Littlewick green. They had lunched at the pub and taken a stroll around the church of St Lawrence. Now they both sat on a bench against the church wall, overlooking the massive Oak at the centre of the peaceful cemetery.