Fear Book 3 Part 12
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Paradox grinned mirthlessly as he squeezed the trigger and emptied his clip into the space where Jenny was hiding. He heard the chatter of a Mach 15 over to his side and turned. Death lay face-down in the grass, his head almost destroyed. O'Donnell stepped into the clearing and smiled as a furious Jenny stomped over to Paradox,
'Couldn't be bothered to fucking warn me could you? Oh dear me no.'
'No time and I aimed high enough to miss you anyway.'
"Talking of time." interrupted Sarah, "He won't take long to recover so we'd better get moving."
'We could end it here and now.' signed Jenny, Paradox scowled,
"Sorry you've lost me."
'Burning the body will kill him.'
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, the cybermites aren't resistant to fire."
They stared down at Death, his head was already mending itself as the cybermites worked frantically to rebuild their host. Jenny told them,
'I'll stay with him, you go back to the AV and siphon off some petrol.'
"Not this time." argued Paradox, "I don't think it's a good idea to separate again. "
He hefted Death across his shoulders with little effort,
"We can burn him back at the AV. If he so much as stirs, I'll just kill him again."
Jenny shook her head as she followed Paradox and remarked to Sara,
'He's getting more like Morris every day, bloody obstinate, always deciding for everybody else.'
'Jenny,' grinned Sara, 'seems to me that you want him that way.'
Jenny made no other attempts at conversation for a long time afterwards. Sara had an unnerving knack of seeing through people, she mused. She slashed at a branch that dared to impede her progress and knew that Sara was right. She missed Morris more than she cared to admit, this reincarnation of her lover was no help in letting him go either.
Paradox had his own worries to consider. He was becoming used to virtual invincibility with death only being a temporary inconvenience. Now the possibility of mortality had been resurrected and he realised that he didn't want to die a second time.
At the AV, they quickly doused Death/Smith with petrol and O'Donnell handed a lighter to Paradox. The grey man looked at him,
"The bastard has haunted you as much as me I suspect. So perhaps we should do this together?"
O'Donnell took a rag soaked in petrol, tore it in half, and gave Paradox one half,
"Together then." he nodded.
They both lit the rags and threw them. Blue and yellow flame erupted from the body and for a dreadful moment, Death stirred and opened his mouth in a soundless scream. The sickening stench of roasted meat hit them and Sara turned away. Paradox and O'Donnell stayed facing the burning body and Paradox whispered,
"I hope you burn in hell, Smith."
When the flames died down, the group re-equipped themselves with ordinance and began the trek back to Bilford Hill.
Father Wilson was a worried man. Their new chosen one had been unable to reproduce the success of his predecessor. He had produced cybermites of a kind but their hosts soon died, faces twisted in agony. Now Wilson only had a limited number of grey men to supplement the brothers. Scouts had reported that all of the unbelievers were returning to presumably seek him out. He was at a loss to understand how the assassin Smith had failed to carry out his mission. The man had been psychotic but efficient. Father Wilson had no intention of staying to see if his defences would hold out. Logically the group were outnumbered, outgunned and stood no chance of success. However, he reasoned, logic was a faulty tool when applied to the unpredictable variable of humans. He made preparations to leave.
'So far and all that.' remarked Jenny, 'but I don't like the lack of activity.'
They had taken a break in the shelter of a ruined building, Sarah was watching carefully for any movement in the rubble outside. Paradox nodded,
"If I were them, I'd pull everyone back to a defensible position and wait for us."
"What we need is to call in an air-strike to soften them up."
'Funny, O'Donnell, really funny.' Jenny stopped, staring into middle space, 'What's the opposite of that?'
"What - an air strike? Well, ground artillery I s'pose." said O'Donnell, "I didn't bring a cannon, sorry."
"You're forgiven." Sarah turned and patted his knee.
"Jenny, you're welcome to mention what you have in mind. Don't be shy hmm?" Paradox was growing impatient.
'Well since you asked.'
In five hundred years time, most of us will be forgotten dust. But Hitler will still be remembered, God loves irony.