Ken McClure - Pestilence

Saracen lay on his back for a moment and looked up at the drifting clouds taking pleasure from the feel of the watery sun on his face. He gripped handfuls of coarse grass and rejoiced in its feel before throwing it to the breeze as pale rays of sunshine broke through the clouds like a poster on a Sunday school wall. He wanted to sleep; he desperately wanted to sleep but there was no time. He had to tell Beasdale how to get at the rat colony.

In the distance Saracen heard an engine. He got up and saw that a military vehicle was coming down the road towards the dump. He yelled out but the truck showed no signs of stopping until he pulled out his pistol and emptied it into the air. The truck stopped and a soldier jumped down. Saracen waved his arms and saw the soldier put his weapon to his shoulder and point it at him. “No!” he cried. “For God’s sake no!”

It was Saracen’s protective suit that saved him for the soldier saw it at the last moment and realised that any person wearing it must have an official role to play. The man lowered the weapon and Saracen stumbled down the hill to say who he was.

“Christ, you were lucky sir. I nearly…”

“I know what you nearly did,” said Saracen wearily. “Call Col. Beasdale, will you.”

“Dr Saracen? You’re alive!” said Beasdale’s voice.”

“All the others died and the blood samples were destroyed when the tunnel caved in but I do know where the rat colony is and where the old exit is. You must destroy it.”

“No they weren’t,” said Beasdale.”

“Pardon?”

“The blood samples, they weren’t destroyed. Sergeant Morris got out. The rock fall just missed him. Your samples were flown to Porton and analysed.”

“And?”

“They’ve identified the relevant factor as an adjuvant? Is that how you say it?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently this adjuvant stimulates antibody production against the Skelmore strain. In short they say they can make and antiserum and a vaccine…Are you still there Doctor?”

Saracen had gone weak at the knees. He rubbed his forehead and said, “I’m still here. You won’t be destroying the town then?”

“I don’t know what you mean Doctor.”

“Thank God,” whispered Saracen.

“You say you can show us how to gain access to the rats?”

“Yes but gassing them is probably a non-starter. The cellars are too big.”

“The sergeant was of the same opinion,” said Beasdale. “We are going to use Parapalm.”

“What?”

“Parapalm, liquid fire. It will generate enough heat to incinerate anything in the cellars.”

“And you just happened to have it handy,” said Saracen.

“Is there anything I can do for you Doctor?” asked Beasdale, choosing to ignore the comment. “Anyone I can get in touch with? We all thought you were dead.”

“Yes there is,” said Saracen weakly. “I’d like you to contact Staff nurse Rawlings at the General.”

“What shall I say?”

“Tell her…tell her I love her very much will you.”

Consciousness was slipping away from Saracen. So the plague for the abbey was going to be treated with fire just as it had been six hundred years before. The chalice was safe again. Those who had dared to touch it had been destroyed. Just a coincidence, just a legend. Saracen smiled and passed out.

“Poor bugger,” said a soldier. “He looks all in.