The Parliament of the Dead (12 page)

Iona stood up.  Her black hair was matted to her head, and her black eye make-up was running down her cheeks, in the rain from the sprinklers.  She held up her hands and yelled with a voice so powerful that every being in the room turned towards her,“
O
VER HERE, THE DOOR’S CLEAR OVER HERE!
”

The nearest monk turned his shotgun towards her.  His face was twisted with disgust and hatred, as he squinted against the stinging water.

Their eyes met as the monk squeezed the trigger.

Iona was flung backwards over the bench behind her.

The most mournful and angry cry the chamber had ever heard echoed off its wooden walls.  Tiggy Ward dropped her camera bag and leapt at the monk: the monk who had just shot her daughter.  Before he could fire again the gun was knocked from his hands and Tiggy’s nails were tearing at his face.  They both fell to the floor while the monk tried to protect himself from the frenzied attack.

*   *   *

Gibbs floated above Morag, his transparent body sheltering the elderly ghost from the holy water. “Quickly, urgah ngnngngg d-d-d-d-d-dear lady, get out of here…”

It was clear from the holes appearing all over him that he would not last long.

Morag could not speak, but she made towards the exit looking at Gibbs with gratitude.

When she reached the door Gibbs called out a final,“Avenge us!”and was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Aftermath

Iona could not remember where she was, or how she came to be there.  She felt cold and numb.

Then she remembered the House of Lords, the ghosts, the shotgun blast, that seemed to be still ringing in her ears.

“Is this death?”she said aloud; although she couldn’t hear her own voice over the white noise resounding in her ears.

“Am I dead?” She wondered if this was what Arthur had felt like; was this what it was like to be a ghost?  Slowly she became aware of a pain in her shoulder.  Did ghosts always feel the pain of their death?

If she was a ghost she resolved to avenge herself, and all those the exorcists had attacked.

Suddenly she started to panic.  Her senses were slowly returning, she could feel the water of the sprinkler system falling on her.  If she was a ghost this water would destroy her!

She snapped open her eyes.

*   *   *

Iona saw a young priest with bandages over half his face.  He was looking down at her.

“Thank the Lord you are alive!”the stranger said.

Iona looked into his eyes, then down to the dog collar around his neck.  Without warning she punched the priest squarely on the nose, and was satisfied to see it bleed instantly.

“I’m so sorry!”he sobbed.

Iona was confused.  One of these clerics had just shot her, and now another was crying (and bleeding) all over her.

“I’m so sorry,”he said again. “We are only to trying to exorcise the evil.  You, child, have nothing to do with it.”

Iona punched him again.

“These people you are trying to exorcise are my friends!”Iona hissed at him. “The only people I see around here doing evil are
you
.”

“You don’t understand,”the priest tried to continue, but he was pushed aside by one of the monks.

The monk took in the scene and aimed his gun at Iona. “No witnesses allowed,”he said to Father Thomas.  He was about to shoot when Father Thomas knocked him off his feet with an inexpert but effective rugby tackle.

“Run, child!” Thomas called to Iona.

*   *   *

During Iona’s exchange with Father Thomas, Arthur had reappeared next to Tiggy.  His form looked blurred, like a smudged painting. “Your daughter is alright!  I pushed her away from the worst of the shot.  She is going to be fine.  We need to go!”

The sprinkler system was dribbling to a halt.  A succession of alarms were sounding, with distant sirens adding to the chorus.

Tiggy looked to Arthur and then to where he was pointing.  She could see Father Thomas grappling with the monk.  Iona appeared over the bench; she was clutching her shoulder.

Tiggy was by her side in seconds, hugging her tightly.

Iona winced with pain, but she did not tell her weeping mother to stop.

“We need to go now!” Arthur’s voice was at their ears.

“Arthur?”cried Iona,“I thought you were gone!”

“And I thought you were gone too,”replied the ghost. “I just abandoned this form to give the enemy a smaller target.  But we really do need to go now.”

*   *   *

On the other side of the room another voice shouted,“Everybody out!” Father Pious was calling to those under his command,              “
Now
!”

The exorcists and monks made for the doors.  Their movements had the precision of a rehearsed military operation.  Two of them picked up the body of the victim of Sweeney Todd’s razor, and carried it between them, leaving a dappled red pattern in the puddles of water that covered the floor.

*   *   *

Iona, Tiggy and the few remaining ghosts made a more shambolic exit.  Iona stumbled as her mother bent to look for her discarded camera bag when they walked past the place where she had dropped it.  It was gone.

“Where are we going?” Iona asked, the pain in her shoulder starting to make her head swim.

Arthur reached out a hand and the window at the end of the corridor in front of them exploded outwards.  When they reached the window frame Arthur called out,“I need help with the breathers!”

Iona and Tiggy looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

“I need help to carry the breathers!” Arthur called out again into the night.

Just as Iona and Tiggy were about to ask Arthur what on earth he was shouting about, they felt invisible hands lift them into the air, and carry them out into the dark sky.

“Iona, are you OK?”her mother asked.

Iona’s reply was a whoop of joy,“I’m flying, mum, look at me!  I’m flying!”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Last Rites

The ear-splitting noise of the security alarms eased a little as Father Pious closed the door of the office which was to be the exorcists’hiding place until the coast was clear.  As soon as they were all gathered they began to change into the overalls that were to disguise them for their escape.  They had paused to wrap the dead body of their fallen brother in a plastic sheet in order to prevent a trail of blood leading the security forces straight to them.  One of the clergy performed the Last Rites.

Once they were all dressed and the prayers finished they sat on the chairs, the table and the floor to wait for the right moment to leave.

As they waited Father Pious looked round his group of clerics with an expression of fury.  Finally he shouted over the howling alarms,“You let half of them escape!  We have the largest gathering ever within reach of the Church, and you let half of them go!”

One of the monks interrupted,“But we exorcised
half
of them!  It’s still the biggest mass exorcism for centuries!”

“But it could, it
should
have been so much more.  Anyway, what’s done is done.  We need to focus on our next move now.   We disabled the cameras inside the building, but some security cameras will have picked us up as we entered.  I can only permit us twenty-four hours before it is too risky to stay in this country; the Police could find us if we stay longer.” Father Pious looked in the eyes of his followers, daring dissent. “Cardinal Merrin is coming to our base at dawn.  He will want to know why we did not make the most of this opportunity.”

“But they were scattered!” Objected another of the monks. “They will have fled far and wide, we could never round them up now!”

“Yes, well, we will see what our informant has to say,” countered Father Pious,“See if we can’t take out a few more of them before our time is up.”

“What if our informant was one of those who perished?” Asked one of the monks.

“I think I saw him flee for his filthy existence,”said Father Pious in an unconcerned tone, “but if he’s gone, we could at least start looking in the girl’s house.”

Father Thomas stood up. “This is all wrong.  That girl was shot tonight. 
We
shot her.  Whatever we are doing cannot be worth risking human lives!”

His leader smiled indulgently at his assistant. “My dear young Father, what is right and what is wrong does not depend on our fallible feelings.  What is right and what is wrong depends on what the Holy Church tells us is right and wrong.  The Church was
right
to set up the Inquisition.  When politics made it impossible to openly search out lost souls who were alive, it was
right
that that the Inquisition continued to seek the souls of the dead and the fallen.”

“But the girl was alive.” Father Thomas slumped back down. “Surely life is sacred,”he added weakly.

“We are just bringing their souls closer to God their Maker.  By force if necessary.”

Father Thomas shook his head, but said nothing.  He covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that were beginning to flow once more.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Lady
with the Lamp

The ghosts carried Iona and Tiggy along the North Bank of the Thames, up over the Strand, to their flat on Fleet Street.

As soon as they arrived Tiggy wanted to look at Iona’s wound.  Iona slumped into the sofa while her mother crouched beside her.  Tiggy took one of Iona’s arms out of her T-shirt so she could see it clearly.  There was quite a lot of blood, but the bleeding had slowed.  Some of the pellets from the shotgun had penetrated her shoulder.

“Oh darling, we really must get you to a hospital.” She continued to inspect Iona’s shoulder, “and then we must go to the Police.  This isn’t right, they can’t be allowed to get away with shooting children!”

“Mum,”Iona replied with irritation in her voice, the limited amount of patience she usually possessed was crushed by the pain in her shoulder,“one of the Houses of Parliament has been vandalized, and we were on the scene.  Who do you think is going to get into trouble here?”

As they talked the ghosts who had carried them started to take visible form and drift around Iona’s living room.

Arthur touched Tiggy on the shoulder. “Your daughter is correct.  The Police will believe the word of a delegation of priests and monks before they believe a reporter and her teenage daughter.” Arthur looked sadly at Tiggy’s stunned face. “However, you are right about one thing: your daughter does need medical attention.”

The small room was rapidly filling with the survivors of the Parliament.  Arthur looked into the swirling and chattering cloud of spirits and called to a lady in a black dress holding an old-fashioned hurricane lamp. 

Arthur called the ghost over and asked her to inspect Iona’s injury.  The ghost was clearly delighted to be needed and smiled broadly as she drifted over to have a look.

“With all this bleeding…”the ghost’s voice was that of an educated woman,“…there will be no need for leeches.”

Iona and her mother looked at each other.

“Cut the sideshow spook act.  Leeches were long out of fashion in your day,”said Arthur sternly. “Can you help her?”

“Of course I can,” replied the spirit, holding her lamp next to the wound to get a better view.

Iona felt a deep and painful chill as the nurse’s fingers moved through the flesh of her shoulder, and one by one picked out the pellets that had been embedded there.

“Be gentle!”cried Tiggy.

Iona reached over and took her mother’s hand. “I’m OK.”

“You’d be better sooner if you’d sit still!” Grumbled the ghostly nurse.

Chapter Forty

Dead and Despairing

Morag floated through the streets of London in a daze.

“The Parliament of the Dead was supposed to save us: organise our revenge,”she mumbled to herself.

“Harold’s gone, Gibbs has gone, the Parliament has gone...”she looked through her ghostly hand,“...and even I have gone.”

She started to weep.

She felt the presence beside her before she saw it.  It was the Grey Monk, still covering his head with a leather bag, and nervously looking up to the sky.

“Dear lady,”he said softly,“don’t despair.  It’s not over yet.  Those who survived are gathering in the home of that living child in Fleet Street.”

Morag said nothing, but she stopped sobbing.

“Revenge is not something I really approve of...”the Monk continued,“...but we must do something about these breathers with guns.”

Chapter Forty-One

A hope in Hell

Iona’s house was full to overflowing with the remnants of the Parliament, who had seemed to sense each other’s presence and had gravitated to the flat.

“We really must go to the Police,”Tiggy was insisting to Iona as a group of ghosts gathered to listen to the discussion.

Iona was not impressed. “But they won’t believe that we‘just happened’to be in the House of Lords at midnight when it was trashed by angry vicars!”

Tiggy bit her lip, “If only I hadn’t dropped my bag, we could use the film for evidence.” Then she sat up. “Of course the Police will find the bag and watch the tape; they’ll see what really happened.”

“Mum?” Iona looked puzzled,“What tape?  What bag?  What are you talking about?”

“I brought my hidden camera to the Parliament.  It was in the bag I was carrying.  If only I hadn’t dropped it!”

The ghost of a portly monk in grey who had just arrived, spoke up, “Excuse me, do you mean this?” He held up Tiggy’s soggy leather bag.

With a whoop Tiggy leapt up and snatched the bag.  She tried to kiss the Grey Monk, but fell through him awkwardly. 

“Em thanks!”she muttered uncomfortably as she got back to her feet.

Everyone watched as she took the disk from the camera, placed it in the drive of her computer, and switched it on.

The video was badly distorted.