Rapture Falls (16 page)

             
Baine carted away his prize, the heavy ledger secreted under
his
dark coat slowed his escape over the churches
spiked rusty
rear railings
and beyond into the night. He had left his non descript Micra parked unobtrusively about a quarter mile from St Paul’s unwilling to draw any unwanted attention to his nocturnal activities. The book he carried radiated immense power, it throbbed against his body making his arms ache from hefting it even over such a short distance, he
could feel the churches pained
wrench as he increased the gap between the book and its home. He had no idea just what exactly it was that he had acquired but he knew that it was important, it would need
some deciphering and translating
and de Payens would
no doubt
rain down a raging fury to get it back, he would be coming soon.

As he walked the book began to tickle around the edges of his mind, flashes of fire and crosses, pain and vengeance, images of torture and suffering walked heavily across his vision, soundless videos of
crucifixions
needed no audio as he heard the s
creams within his own thoughts and
he could taste their blood and feel their agony
. The bombardment continued as he approached the waiting Micra, he was
eager to be on his way and put some miles b
etween him and the good priest and put down the book, so eager was he that he almost missed the silver VW Golf parked a few cars down. At this distance he could not see into the Golf but he could feel it, there sat danger and it
waited impatiently
for him, he paused closed his eyes and digested for a moment, he just knew that the book had sharpened his already heightened senses, all at once he knew that this car had been following him for a while, he could picture it behind him as he had driven to the church this morning and had tailed him back here again, he could see it parked outside of his apartment. The occupants were desperately hungry, they were ravenous for the book and
if they saw him
it
would be
all they could do to stop themselves from pouring out of the car and screaming down the road towards him, tearing the book from his hands and rutting over their victory. The street was empty of pedestrians at this cold hour save for a small elderly man walking slowly between them, Ba
ine was struggling to manage the
intruding alien thoughts and clarify his mind in order to maintain control of his actions.

             
The Golf inhabitants were waiting desperately for the old man to pass through
and
out of sight, they were unaware that
t
he
y
had
been sensed
and
they believed that their motives and existence were still secure in
going undetected. The street was full of sturdy bricked terraced houses lining the road on both sides, there were many evening lights obscured by heavy warm curtains hiding a population safe in their homes and warming by fires. The houses all held small front gardens maintained with pride and kept with a community spirit that seemed indicative of this area radiating from the church, most of the houses had paths by their sides leading to the rear of the house.

             
Baine suddenly streaked to his left through a suburban dwellers front garden, he booted a side gate open and ran full pelt into the back garden, he could sense rather than hear the startled explosion from the Golf, they were out in an instant and they were chasing hard.
Baine flew across the immaculate lawn avoiding an assortment of children’s plastic toys, he checked right and charged fully into the wooden fence panel calculating that the shortest distance between two objects was to go straight through everything that stood in your path. He began a straight line path crossing back gardens and smashing down fences, he was running fast and parallel with the street. He was
intentionally
making more than enough noise to attract the full and undivided attention of the whole street
whilst
moving too quickly to be caught, lights and people were emerging behind him, the Golf occupants were closing but had begun to be caught in his trail by
security lights and
angry residents.
Baine spotted the last garden in the row and increased his speed, he side stepped off of his right foot and onto the top of a brick barbeque pit with his left boosting himself up and over the fence, he landed and rolled at the bottom of a railway embankment, he sprang back to his feet in one fluid motion. He began the ascent to the top of the steep grassy hill
ploughing
through a revolting assortment of disguarded rotting litter, he hit the top and turned, behind him he could hear the commotion left in his wake, thanks to the influence of St Paul’s and its priest this was now a community of
carers
, the people had flooded out to the aid of their
neighbours
and the Golf folks were now caught firmly in their midst unable to follow due to the sheer numbers standing in their way. Baine allowed himself a small smile
he had no idea who or what had been lying in wait but he had no intention of finding out, it was all part of his new “Being Careful” life plan. He turned and darted
over the railway lines and down the other side, the lights of the city lay before him guiding his way across the dark and deserted fields in between, it looked to be a few miles as the crow flies so he began to
slow to a
jog
,
cutting the distance
steadily
and
heading into the anonymity of the urban sprawl.

             
It took almost everything that she had to stop Sam from tearing these flesh bags to shreds and absolutely everything she had to stop herself from leading the carnage. They had been sat waiting for Baines return, quietly parked in a side street biding their time, they felt his approach a
nd he had it, he had the book, they had all felt the pull and wanted nothing more than to tear it from Baine’s hands and bathe in his entrails for
daring to make
them wait so very long. She had only just managed to keep them in the car as the
shaved
ape approache
d, then suddenly, inexplicably,
something went wrong, the man bolted like a wild animal sensing
danger, how had
she not seen this coming and
how had the man moved so
damn
fast
. In the blink of an eye he was gone, the three of them were out of the car in an instant
,
Sam took the lead as
he was
the best tracker of the three, he led them down a narrow garden path and into the rear of the house. Already there was a trail of battered down fences stretching across many houses, they followed in his footsteps, unbelievably they were not gaining, suddenly their paths were filled and blocked by sc
reaming, yelling hoards of
putrid flesh bags, security lights had been activated all the way along illuminating them and the residents were quick to surround demanding explanations, already they could hear the faint wail of police sirens growing louder as they grew closer.
They pushed back through the agitated crowd warding off demands from flaying arms, Lucy pulled Sam hard as he turned back to strike out at the residents, eventually they reached the hire car. Sam’s face was contorted with rage and incomprehensive at their cowardly retreat, it would do no good to even attempt to explain their clandestine approach to him at this or any point. Lucy peeled away noisily from the curb showering the angry mob in gravel, she put as much distance as quickly as possible fully aware of the unwanted attention of the approaching police, this night had supposed to have been their long awaited crowning glory but it had turned to
an unmitigated disaster in record speed. This
man Baine was
far more than
he had first appeared, the
ir assignment knowledge was woefully
incomplete, Lucy’s temper was running short
,
after all of this time their chance had slipped through their grasp, all of their planning and waiting spurned by one man, there was only one source to turn
she floored the accelerator and headed for a conversation.

             
McCullum was tired, cold, hungry and royally fucked off, here he stood yet again for Christ’s sake in the middle of the St Paul’s parish, he had another assault at the church, an elderly woman in a hospital bed with a broken nose and a swelled up face that caused her daughter to weep hysterically, not to mention the
nearby
clusterfuck of a street full of destroyed fences and churned over lawns. Superintendent Irving was on the warpath as his promises of calm and control returning after the priests attack
had been savagely
swept aside within hours
,
and as usual when the pissing starts the water runs downwards. Irving had laid into DCI Jones who had subsequently fallen upon McCullum, who had now been placed in the responsibility
post
for the cleanup operation to restore
both
fences and PR brownie points.
He had his own itinerary lined up for the evening but now had to waste it babysitting the Superintendents ego, they were wasting valuable police resources in having several PC’s cleaning up gardens like bob a
fucking
job fucking scouts. The old biddy at the church hadn’t been able to identify her attacker but it had already been decided
,
apparently by DCI Jones
,
that it was the work of the returning Justin Marsh, who after putting the good father in a hospital bed had returned to an expected empty church to ransack the place only to find an old woman cleaning and promptly figured that after you’ve assaulted a vicar one old lady really made no difference.
McCullum had been placed in charge of the investigations and clean ups which amounted to little more than standing about in the cold smiling at residents overseeing the taking of useless statements about Olympic sprinters and beautiful women.
The golden glow of the approaching dawn was illuminating road before McCullum was homeward bound devoid of all enthusiasm, he had
also now
been charged with finding this Justin Marsh as his top priority, he had unconsciously assumed the responsibility for the suicide of the young DC Thomas, he had a strange priest with stranger abilities but undeniable results and a mystery man, Baine, that seemed to fit somewhere within the whole murky picture,
at this point
his cup truly
runeth
over.

             
Ba
ine checked into the M4 Travel
odge quietly
with cash, he hoped that the bored looking receptionist had not
realised
that he was not actually driving a car, at this point and away from his sanctuary he needed no adverse attention and a little anonymity would go a long way. He had hoofed his way across the muddy fields towards the outskirts of the city centre, he had been heading home carrying the book, lost in its influencing power when it occurred to him that perhaps his home address was perhaps not the best place to lay low with the bo
ok. The warm lights from the Travel
odge drew his attention and offered a refuge, he had danced across the dual carriageway
and into a shelter for the reminder of the night. The room was clean and sparse, exactly the right environment from which to centre himself and gather a forward plan, he locked the door and wedged a sturdy metal chair under the handle, he drew the blackout curtains and turned on a small bedside light. The glow dimly lit the room, Baine sat on the pastel bedspread cross-legged and placed the book in front of him, as soon as he released the book onto the bed his arms and legs began to ache from the night’s festivities, the book seemed to withdraw its energy
back
from him in an instant leaving him weary.
He yawned and cracked his neck from side to side, he opened the book, the moment his fingertips touched the pages he felt the invigorating influence shoot up his right arm, he looked again at the bloody
scratches
, they suddenly seemed a little
clearer
and the language strangely seemed to make a little more sense. The more pages that he turned the more he seemed to obtain an understanding of what he was looking at, there were incantations and he supposed spells for want of a better word
. As he looked he saw the images rather than read the words, the Archangels had cut a bloody swathe across Europe in their determination to find the Cube,
t
he Grigori and the 11
^th
Order had waged a savage battle whittling their own numbers before
deciding to use
their converts as chess pieces to be moved and slain at a moments notice and for little gain. There were tales of great battles between the Archangels as the world lay virgin across new plains, the war was
both
savage and merciless as the sides grew further apart from their origins as servants of God, the rivers ran red and the stench of death hung heavily in the acrid air. Eventually God had revisited this world and
through
his thunderous anger had ripped the skies apart as his fury rained down upon the earth at the corruption of his vision
, man had been created in his image and now been
bastardised
into the whims of the Archangels. God had sent a terrible flood with which to cleanse the earth and start again, only six of the fallen angels had survived the mass genocide, three of the Grigori and three of the 11
^th
Order. God had created the Templar Knights to police the line and protect the Cube, it seemed to Baine that God had possessed a terrible case of arrogance by leaving the Cube somewhere on earth as he watched the battle for it unfold only with no greatly reduced and thus more manageable numbers. The Templar Knights
had become the dominant force, they
were merciless in their pursuit to wield God’s sword and will, they tortured and maimed their way across the world seeking out the women that had lain with the Grigori and their soulless spawn as well as the more fanatical converts to the 11
^th
Order who seemed to have invoked more of God’s wrath by creating their own religion based upon the resurrection of an Eden upon earth
, hunting them all to the point of extinction
. Baine closed the book and lay back on the bed shutting his eyes against the migraine that pound
ed its painful
rhythm against
the insides of his skull, there was still so much for him to learn
, so much that he had to discover, but based on the book, God was obviously one mean motherfucker and Baine knew that with his actions
in the last few days
he had just made the shit list.
Whatever the book was it seemed to react to him, it had increased his abilities to point that he wouldn’t have minded another crack at de Payens, the book seemed to want to unveil itself of its secrets to him, he now knew that the book would lead him to the Cube, the book was a secret keeper, a vessel designed to hold the knowledge of all things hidden and scared. Who ever had written this had
..
, had
..
, he sat bolt upright ignoring the dizziness that accompanied his rapid movement, he knew the author, it was crystal clear now, he closed his eyes, he could see the book being
written
, it was a secret in itself, it was not supposed to exist, it was book 367 in a collection that should have only held 366 volumes. He could see a small man skeletal
with starvation and
wracked with pain, suffering
for his art wrapped in filthy rags in a deep cave
secluded from the outside world
lit by the dancing flames of a large fire, sat upon a small boulder at a granite carved bench, the scribe turned towards him in his vision, he knew the old man as sure as he knew his own face, the scribe had been called many things by many different religions and scholars, Enoch, Adhar, Atmon, Chanoch, Idris, but Baine knew only one, he called him father.