Will Hill - The Rising

For Charlie and Nick, the best partners in crime I could have asked for

EPIGRAPH

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

How much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow.

Victor Frankenstein

COVER

TITLE PAGE

DEDICATION

EPIGRAPH

MEMORANDUM

12 WEEKS AFTER LINDISFARNE

91 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

1

ON PATROL

2

TRIANGLES HAVE SHARP EDGES

3

THE ART OF COMING CLEAN

4

GROWING PAINS

5

REBIRTH

6

CARPENTER AND SON

7

VALENTIN RECEIVES A VISITOR

90 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

8

THE BIG LEAGUES

9

NO STONE UNTURNED

10

SLEEPLESS NIGHT

11

THE BARE BONES

12

INSIDE THE VOID

13

HUDDLED MASSES YEARNING TO BREATHE FREE

14

SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT

15

ALL FALL DOWN

16

ALWAYS AND FOREVER

89 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

17

FAMILY TIES

18

KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE

19

AT THE CROSSROADS AT MIDNIGHT

20

MASTER AND COMMANDER

21

HEROES’ RETURN

22

TINFOIL HATS

88 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

23

THE INTERROGATION OF VALENTIN RUSMANOV

24

THE FOURTH MUSKETEER

25

THE ILLUMINATED CITY, PART I

26

FULL DISCLOSURE

27

THE ILLUMINATED CITY, PART II

28

THINK BUT THIS AND ALL IS MENDED

87 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

29

IN CONVERSATION WITH A MONSTER

30

THERE IS NO STATUTE OF LIMITATIONS FOR REVENGE

31

ECHOES OF THE PAST

32

THE DEPTHS OF KNOWLEDGE

33

IN THE COURT OF THE VAMPIRE KING

34

HOW TO STEAL FIRE FROM THE GODS

35

HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING

36

VISION QUEST, PART I

37

FROM PILLAR TO POST

38

VISION QUEST, PART II

39

BACK FROM THE DEAD

40

VISION QUEST, PART III

41

AND A TORCH TO LIGHT THE WAY

42

VISION QUEST, PART IV

43

THE TIES THAT BIND

44

BEHIND EVERY GOOD MAN

45

CURTAIN CALL

46

THE TWIST OF THE KNIFE

47

NOWHERE TO RUN, NOWHERE TO HIDE

48

SOME WOUNDS NEVER HEAL

49

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

50

REDUCED TO ASH

86 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

51

A COUNCIL OF WAR

52

ONLY FORWARD

FIRST EPILOGUE: IN THE FLESH

SECOND EPILOGUE: THREE FATHERS

85 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

COPYRIGHT

ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

THE PILGRIM HOSPITAL BOSTON, LINCOLNSHIRE

Sergeant Ted Pearson of the Lincolnshire Police stamped his cold feet on the pavement, and checked his watch again. His partner, Constable Dave Fleming, watched him, a nervous look on his face.

Half ten, thought the Sergeant, with a grimace. I should be at home with my feet up. Sharon’s making lasagne tonight, and it’s never as good warmed through.

The 999 call had been made from the hospital’s reception desk at 9.50pm. Sergeant Pearson and his partner had been finishing up the paperwork on an illegal immigration case they were working on one of the farms near Louth, both men looking forward to getting the forms filed and heading home, when they had been told the call was theirs. Grumbling, they had climbed into their car and driven the short distance from the police station to the hospital, blue lights spinning above them, their siren blaring through the freezing January night.

They had reached the hospital in a little over three minutes, and were questioning the nurse who had made the call, a young Nigerian woman with wide, frightened eyes, when Sergeant Pearson’s radio buzzed into life. The message it conveyed was short and to the point.

“Secure access to potential crime scene. Do not investigate, or talk to potential witnesses. Stand guard until relieved.”

Pearson had sworn loudly down his receiver, but the voice on the other end, a voice he didn’t recognise but which was definitely not the usual dispatcher, was already gone. So he had done as he was told: instructed Constable Fleming to cease his questioning of the nurse, and informed all staff that access to the hospital’s blood bank was forbidden without direct permission from him. Then he and his partner had taken up positions outside the side entrance to the hospital, shivering in the cold, waiting to be relieved. By who, or what, they didn’t know.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” asked Constable Fleming, after fifteen minutes had passed. “Why are we standing out here like security guards?”

“We’re doing what we were told to do,” replied Sergeant Pearson.

Fleming nodded, unconvinced. He looked round at the dimly lit road; it was a narrow alley between the hospital and a red-brick factory that was falling rapidly into disrepair. On the wall opposite, in black paint that had dripped all the way to the ground, someone had sprayed two words.

HE RISES

“What’s that mean, Sarge?” asked Constable Fleming, pointing at the graffiti.

“Shut up, Dave,” replied his partner, giving the words a cursory glance. “No more questions, all right?”

The young man was going to make a fine copper, Pearson had no doubt about that, but his enthusiasm, and his relentless inquisitiveness, had a tendency to give the Sergeant a headache. The uncomfortable truth was that Pearson didn’t know what was going on, or why they were guarding the hospital door, or what the graffiti meant. But he was not going to admit that to Fleming, who had been on the force for less than six months. He stamped his feet again, and as he did so, he heard the rumble of an engine approaching in the distance.