Ruins (35 page)

Sam stiffened. He remembered that time. He’d spent the last twenty years trying to forget it.

“Why?” Liberty asked. “Why’d he do it?”

“Lots of reasons,” Solomon murmured. “Pride. Jealousy. But I suspect the real reason was that it made him immune from a blood attack.”

“Blood attack?”

Solomon looked like he wanted to spit. “If anybody ever wanted to, shall we say, take Laurent down, they’d have a fighting chance if they got a sample of blood – from him or a relative. Blood ties us all. Laurent’s family made him vulnerable. He couldn’t take that risk. Of course, obliterating his bloodline had other benefits.”

“Such as?” Sam asked.

“He mixed demon blood with his own. Injected himself. Corrupted himself.”

Sam’s stomach turned in on itself. Was that even possible? He’d encountered awful things over the years, but could a man really survive such a thing?

“I don’t see how killing his family made it easier to do that,” Liberty said.

“As the last in his lineage, Laurent became an
ensamblod
. Separate from everything, stronger. An island. Ever wonder why the human race is so obsessed with reproducing? An
ensamblod
is a dangerous, volatile thing. There are theories... Being the final member of a bloodline can cause a person to... change. Open him up to possibilities. I never understood it, but it’s what Laurent believed. And I suppose he was right...” Solomon looked sad again. “Nathan turned up dead. Drowned in the bathtub. The police did nothing; what could they do? There were no prints, no sign of a struggle. They assumed it was suicide.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly. He’d lost enough friends to know how Solomon must feel.

The psychic sighed and appeared to dislocate himself from the past. “Before he died, Nathan asked me to do a reading to find out what was in store for him and Laurent. He thought he could save him, make Laurent see sense. I couldn’t turn him down. Nathan had never asked for anything; I knew how important it was to him. I wish I could take that reading back.”

“What did you see?”

Sweat beaded Solomon’s top lip. He twitched, starting to resemble the rabbit he was cradling.

“What did you see?” Sam pressed.

“The end of all things.”

Solomon’s hiss sent shivers down Sam’s spine.

“The end?”

Solomon held his gaze and Sam dreaded to think what the psychic had glimpsed. He had to know.

“What is Laurent planning?”

“Aside from the destruction of everything and everyone you love?” Solomon puffed. “He’s going to tear reality apart, rent the very fabrics of existence and let Hell in.”

“How?” Sam urged, leaning in to the table. “How is he going to do it?”

“He’s already begun,” Solomon said mournfully. “He’s allied himself with Malika. They have a Harvester army at their feet. The gauntlets are just the beginning. Next, Laurent is going to unearth the oblituss and with it the Tortor.”

“The–” Sam struggled to keep up. “What are they? Why are they important to Laurent?”

“The Tortor... It’s an agent of chaos. It’s going to reduce that town to nothing.”

“How can we stop it?”

Solomon tapped his lips thoughtfully. “The totems. Destroy the totems and you’ll derail Laurent’s plan.”

“Will it stop him?” Liberty asked.

Solomon said nothing. Perhaps the answer was too depressing to say out loud.

Sam released a breath. “You knew all this and you did nothing. You knew Laurent was out there killing, scheming, and you told nobody.”

“I’m no hero.”

“You fled. Saved your own hide.”

“There was one thing I could never understand,” Solomon mused. He squinted at Liberty, then Sam. “During the reading with Nathan, I saw my own demise. I tried to avoid it. I got as far away from Cambridge as I could, but now I see it’s unavoidable.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The final thing I saw was you, sitting across from me and–”

The entire boat rocked. The wet crunch of splintering wood filled Sam’s ears, mixed with the inexplicable sound of rushing water.

Sam looked down, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. A hole had been punched through the floor of the boat, right beside the table. Water gushed stealthily inside.

“What is this?” he demanded, the water already around his ankles.

Liberty steadied herself against the wall.

Solomon looked horrified. “No, no, no,” he wailed. “Not now. Not yet!” He seized the stuffed rabbit from the tabletop and clutched it to his chest. Sam jumped to his feet, just as Liberty went for the door handle.

It was no good. They were locked in.

Sam whirled round to survey the interior of the boat. The dirty river water pumped into the little living room, spilling across the floor. Already it was creeping up to his shins. Filthy, smelly, everywhere. He saw something moving in the water and Solomon started screaming.

Dark shapes squirmed and Sam had to concentrate to keep up with them. They whisked by like lithe, sinewy lightning.

“Stay still,” he hissed at Solomon, but that was the worst advice he could have given. They were trapped on a sinking boat with no hope of escape.

“The windows!” Liberty yelled.

Solomon tossed the stuffed rabbit aside and lunged at the window by the table.

His fingers barely scraped the steamed-up glass before he emitted a strangled shriek and crashed to the floor. Something was attached to his leg. A trunk-like, fleshy organism. It expanded and contracted as if it were feeding on him. Solomon reached down to scratch at it, but Sam yelled: “Don’t touch it!”

He’d barely uttered the words when more snake-like creatures whipped from the water. Faceless heads that were nothing more than circles of gnashing teeth lunged for the psychic, who spluttered and splashed in horror on the boat’s floor. The water was above his waist now, and the boat groaned alarmingly, as if it knew its fate.

Liberty waded over and attempted to drag the creatures free, but it was no good.

Sam reached down to his boot and extracted a hunting knife.

“Oh God!” Solomon choked. “Oh God!” He floundered about in the water and Sam realised the psychic’s hands were moving with purpose. They were searching for something.

“Stay still,” Sam warned him.

The psychic wasn’t listening, though. Finally, his front teeth protruded in a triumphant grin and he raised Kutu the stuffed rabbit from the water. In one swift movement, he snapped the creature’s head off and drew a blade from the body.

“There!” Solomon cried jubilantly. He slashed the knife at the creatures and black blood pooled around him. The monstrous leeches released him, slithering back into the water.

Sam reached down and heaved the man from the floor. Together, they clambered onto the table, which was only just above the water, and crouched in wait. Across from them, Liberty crammed herself onto one of the shelves, her boots tucked under her, away from the water.

Sam’s mind raced. Had they been followed? Was this Laurent again? Or one of his minions? Malika? Were they outside even now crowing together as they watched the river devour the boat? He had to get out of here, if only to make it to the shore and wipe the smug grins from their faces.

“Can’t... Can’t stand the water,” Solomon gibbered, shivering beside him.

“You could’ve fooled me, living in a place like this,” Liberty said.

“Don’t mind being on it.
In
it’s another matter.” The psychic eyed the turgid water fearfully. He clutched the table edge so tightly it seemed his knuckles would burst through his skin.

Not so smart after all
, Sam thought.

“Keep an eye out,” he told Liberty firmly. “If those things come back, well...”

He left the thought unfinished, swivelling round to examine the window. He’d have to smash it; that was the only way they’d ever fit through. He reached into his satchel and drew out a pistol. As he raised a hand to fire, he felt the air move and heard something splashing into the water.

“Solomon!” Liberty yelled.

There was no sign of the psychic. Sam was alone on the table. Before he could stop her, Liberty dove from the shelf, disappearing into the murky water.

Sam held his breath, despairing as the water rippled over the top of the table and threatened to loosen his grip. He felt something brush his leg and flinched, staying as still as he could.

“Liberty!” he called.

The water was too dirty; he couldn’t see anything below the surface. Seaweed and muck from the riverbed had flurried in with the water, creating a grim soup. And still the water level rose.

Something tugged at Sam’s leg and he had to fight the rising panic. Another tug. A nip. A yank. Sam took a great breath just in time as he was dragged under the surface.

His nose and ears flooded with grimy water and the shock of it almost prompted him to expel the precious air he’d gulped in.

Calm. Calm. Think.

Disorientated, he forced himself to open his eyes. They stung in the river water. Slithering black shapes skimmed by and he tried not to imagine those circles of razor-sharp teeth sinking into his flesh. Another tug. He shook his leg, attempting to loosen whatever it was that had a hold of him. The grip loosened and Sam shook the thing free. He tried to see what it was that had him.

Solomon’s puffy face rose through the scum. Dead. Drowned.

Free of Solomon’s dying grasp, Sam kicked his way to the surface. He broke into the air and his head bumped the ceiling. The boat was almost completely submerged.

Liberty gasped for breath beside him.

“I think... we’re done here,” she coughed.

“The window,” Sam panted. “We have to break the window.”

A snake-like form lashed from the water, lunging at Sam’s face. He threw an arm up and fangs sank into his hand. The pain was incredible. Liberty grabbed the creature’s tail, tearing it away. Without pausing, she beat it against the ceiling, where black liquid exploded violently from the monster’s gnashing maw.

In an instant, the water came alive with thrashing black monsters.

“NOW!” Sam yelled. He gasped in another breath and sank below the surface.

They were everywhere. Swarming like river snakes, teeth glinting in the gloom. They darted at him in waves and Sam was glad for the protection that his thick jacket and trousers afforded.

The gun.

It was still clenched in his fist. Would it work underwater? He’d heard that some guns reloaded faster when submerged, but he had no idea if his would even fire. He had to try.

Locating the window amid the flurry of nightmarish shapes, he aimed and fired.

A spark lit the water and Sam heard a muted
WHUMP
as the bullet struck something. As the leech monsters slithered together against him, he kicked his feet against something solid and propelled himself toward what he hoped was the shattered window frame.

Alien noises echoed in his ears and the world became a swirling confusion of muddy colours. His lungs screamed at him to draw breath, but he knew that if he did that, it would be over. He jerked his legs, thrashing through the scummy water.

Light cascaded above him and he urged his body toward it, hoping it was sunlight.

Something gripped his shoulders.

He was hauled up out of the water.

For a moment, Sam thought he saw red curls, and he grunted fearfully as he was dragged from the water. Spluttering, he found himself on the docks. A hand patted his shoulder.

“Sir, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

Sam looked up at the woman. A police officer.

“Liberty,” Sam gasped, struggling for air. “Where’s Liberty?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Oblituss

T
HE ABBEY RUINS RESEMBLED COLOSSAL ROCK
giants. Isabel clung to Nicholas’s shoulder and he peered nervously at the others, who were positioned around the manhole they’d escaped through the previous night. This time, they were heading back inside. It seemed like madness.

Nale. Zeus. Merlyn. Harry.

They were really doing this. And without Sam. Aileen was contacting every Sentinel she knew in the area, but time wasn’t on their side. Neither were the numbers. Nicholas shuddered at the thought of how many Harvesters would be waiting for them in the tunnels. And here they were; two men, two teenagers, two household pets.

He squeezed the Drujblade. Despite the midday sun, he felt cold. Oddly detached from it all. He noticed Merlyn watching him from the other side of the manhole. The youngster winked and struck a pose like a battle-ready ninja. Nicholas couldn’t help smiling.

“Everybody ready?” Harry asked. “Everybody know what they’re doing?”

Nicholas’s list was short. Find Rae. Stop Laurent. Try not to get killed. Should be easy enough.