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As they walked out of the church door, O’Donnell glared at Paradox. Although Sharpe and Sara had reassured him that the changed man was not hostile, he remained unconvinced.
He pulled Jenny to one side and said,
“Dammit Jenny I told you he should be killed on sight. Why the hell have you done this?”
She followed his lip movements, nodded and signed,
‘Look, Pete, he’s not like the other grey men I’ve met. He should’ve tried to play on my phobias straight away and didn’t..’
“Well maybe he’s just boxing clever. He might turn on us at a point where it could mean our deaths.”
Jenny replied,
‘Yeah but what d’you know about cybermites?’
“Cyber...what?”
‘Exactly, they’re the grey gunk that the Brotherhood uses to create their zombies.’
“Well, why isn’t he attacking us?”
‘Christ O’Donnell – I don’t fucking know all the answers. Given time, we’ll find out more and maybe use the knowledge against the others.’
“Others like him – you mean?”
‘O’Donnell, if he shows the slightest indication of giving us away, I’ll personally take him out – okay?’
“Well, alright then.” grumbled O’Donnell.
They left the churchyard and began their journey to the green zone and the crashed AV.
*****************************
Brother Smith felt the effects of Zeal wearing off and began his exercise routines. Two hours later, he finished and stood, chest heaving as sweat poured down his body. He went over to the corner where a wash basin held cold water and hard carbolic soap. He splashed the water over himself and rejoiced in the shock. Quickly scrubbed down with soap and rinsed off. He dried himself with a piece of sacking then reached into a cavity next to the wash-stand. He pulled out a bottle of amphetamines, took five and pushed the container into a pocket of his robe. Finally he produced a bulky package from under the washstand and opened it on the floor. It contained a Glock automatic pistol, two spare clips and a hunter’s knife. Smith had no interest in killing for its own sake but he had no patience with anyone who tried to prevent him from completing his mission. He strapped the knife to his leg and a belt and holster around his waist to carry the pistol.
The amps hit and he smiled, the devil-bitch might be good but he was better and God was on his side. Smith left the monastery and began the two mile walk to Bilford Hill.
****************************
Jenny and Sharpe approached the armoured vehicle cautiously. It was nose down in a ditch and appeared to be unoccupied. Their main worry was booby traps, it seemed unlikely that anybody would lie in wait on the off-chance that someone would turn up to loot it. Sharpe scanned the AV and signed,
‘Evidence of small arms fire. Gouges in the door, there and there.’ He pointed,
‘Wonder what took ‘em out?’
‘Fearies?’
‘Could be, materialising inside the crew wouldn’t have much chance.’
‘Fire a round to check for grenades on ‘trembler’?’
Jenny nodded,
‘No prob.’
She aimed at the door with the pistol, fired once and ducked her head down. Nothing happened, they stood and ran for the AV in a crouching run. Stood on each side of the doorway, Sharpe counted from three to one on his fingers and they ran inside, Jenny aiming low, Sharpe high. The vehicle was devoid of life but there were supplies aplenty. Sharpe jumped down from the AV and whistled once. Sara and Pete emerged from hiding and joined them.
Brother Smith watched the group and frowned. He needed to separate them somehow, then he smiled, God had showed him the way. Soon the devil-bitch would be in his hands and he would be able to take his rightful place.
------
In five hundred years time, most of us will be forgotten dust. But Hitler will still be remembered, God loves irony.
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Fear Book 3 Part 10
