David Gemmell - Bloodstone

Misha had whimpered then. Isis tore herself loose from her father's embrace, and threw herself down alongside the dying hound, stroking its head, trying to draw away its pain. Misha's tail had wagged weakly, even as he died.

Isis had wept, but her father drew her upright. 'He did his job, girl. And he did it well,' he said gently.

'I know,' answered Isis. 'Misha knew it too. He was happy as he died.'

The sadness was still with her as she opened her eyes in the wagon. She blinked and found herself staring at the stars. Half of the roof was missing, and she could see great tears in the wooden canopy. Her right side was warm and she reached out, her hand touching fur. 'Oh, Misha,' she said, 'you mustn't get on the bed. Daddy will scold me.'

A low rumbling growl sounded, but Isis drifted off to sleep again, the terrible strength-sapping power of her illness draining her of energy. A weight came down over her chest, her eyes opened and she saw a huge face above hers, a long lolling tongue and sharp fangs. Her hand was still touching the fur, and she could feel the warmth of flesh beneath it. ‘I can't stroke you,' she whispered. ‘I’m too tired.'

She sighed and tried to turn to her side. At least the pain is gone, she thought. Maybe death will not be so very bad after all. Isis wanted to sit up, but she didn't have the strength. Opening her eyes again she saw that the side of the wagon was also partially destroyed. Something had happened! Some calamity.

'I must get up,' she said and lifting her hand, she looped her arm over Misha's neck and pulled. He growled, but she succeeded in raising her body. Dizziness swamped her and she fell in towards Misha, resting her head on his shoulder.

A second growl came from below the bed and a monstrous creature loomed up from the floor of the cabin. Isis looked at it, and yawned. Her head was spinning, her thoughts fragmented. Misha felt so warm. Reaching out, she touched his mind. There was anger there, a poisonous fury held in check only by… by what? Memories of a hollow by a lake, young Wolvers running around his feet. A… wife?

'You're not my Misha,' said Isis, 'and you are in pain.' Softly she stroked the fur.

The second beast lunged at her. The first hit it with a backhand blow, sending it smashing against the cabin wall.

'Stop it! Stop it!' said Isis wearily. 'You mustn't fight.' She sagged against the beast. 'I'm thirsty,' she said.

'Help me up.' Pulling once more she rose on trembling legs, pushing past the Devourer and stumbling to the rear of the cabin where she almost fell down the steps and out into the yard.

The moon was high, and she was almost at the end of her strength. There was no sign of Jeremiah, Meredith or the others. No wagons camped in a circle. No fires burning. Her vision swam and she swayed, catching hold of the left rear wheel.

The yard was full of hounds, big hounds.

She saw the house, bars of golden light showing through the closed shutters. Everyone must be there, she thought. But I can't reach it.

I must! I don't want to die here, alone. Drawing in a deep breath, she let go of the wheel and took two faltering steps.

Then she fell.

The Deacon saw Meredith stumble away from the window.

Shannow stepped up to the shutters, peering out through the crack. He saw a young woman in a dress of faded blue, her blonde hair shining white in the moonlight, lying stretched out on the ground. Before he could speak he heard the door open. 'No!' he hissed.

But Meredith was already moving out into the yard.

With a muttered curse Shannow followed him, drawing his pistols. The beasts were everywhere, most lying quietly under the stars, their bellies full, but a few prowling now at the edge of the barn, or gnawing on the bloody bones of the butchered horses, milk cows and oxen. Shannow cocked the pistols and stood in the doorway, watching the young doctor make his way across to the fallen girl. Meredith was moving slowly, and for the moment the beasts seemed to be ignoring him.

A Devourer moved from the rear of the wagon and saw the walking man. A deep growl sounded and it ambled forward. Several others looked up. One stretched and howled, the sound chilling. Meredith faltered, but then walked on and knelt beside Isis. Reaching down, he took hold of her wrist. The pulse was weak and fluttering. Pushing his hands under her shoulders he hauled her into an upright position, then twisted down to lift her legs. Her head fell to his shoulder.

A Devourer reared above him, saliva dripping from its fangs. Isis moaned as Meredith backed away, the beast following.

In the doorway Shannow aimed his pistol, but now other beasts were closing in on the doctor. Meredith turned his back on them and started to walk back towards the house. Shannow's mouth was dry, his palms greasy with sweat. The doctor stumbled, but righted himself and walked on. Shannow stepped aside as he climbed the porch steps and entered the house. Swiftly Shannow followed him, slamming shut the door and dropping the bar into place.

Outside a great howl went up. The shutters on the window exploded inwards and a beast thrust its upper body through the frame. Shannow shot it through the head. Another clambered over the body of the first; Shannow fired twice into its huge chest and it slumped forward, leaking blood to the dirt floor.

The young mother lurched to her feet, screaming, 'Don't let them get me! Don't let them get me!'

Talons raked at the door, splintering the wood. Wallace Nash ran half-way down the stairs and levelled his shotgun. A section of timber on the door was torn away as a taloned arm lunged through. Wallace fired both barrels. The arm jerked as blood sprayed from it. Shannow shot through the door.

The sounds of gunfire echoed away. Shannow moved to the window, seeing that the beasts had pulled back.

'I've never seen anything like it,' said Wallace Nash. 'Son of a bitch! Man, that took some nerve.'

Meredith wasn't listening. He was kneeling over the unconscious Isis, his tears falling to her face.

Shannow pushed closed the shutters. The locking bar had been snapped in half, but he wedged them by ramming a knife down into the window-sill. It would not hold against a Devourer, but it gave the illusion of security.

He could scarcely believe what he had seen. Meredith, the man whose panic had killed Jeremiah, had just performed an act of complete heroism. Beth came downstairs. The baby was crying now, and she lifted it from the crib. When the young mother snatched it away and fled upstairs, Beth moved alongside Meredith. There were no signs of wounds on the body of the young blonde girl he was attending. 'What's the matter with her, Doctor?' Beth asked.

'She has an illness which has corrupted her immune system: It is very rare; even in the old world it affected only a handful in every million.' He glanced up and saw that Beth did not understand him.

Meredith sighed. 'Our bodies are equipped with a… defence mechanism. When illness strikes we make antibodies to fight it. Like measles, a child generally will succumb only once, because the body identifies the invading organism, then makes defences to stop it happening again. You understand? Well, in the case of Isis, her defence mechanism has targeted organs in her own body, and is slowly destroying them.

It was called Addison's Disease.'

'And there is nothing that can be done?' asked'Wallace.

'Nothing. The elders used medicines called steroids, but we don't know how they were made.'

'Where did she come from?' asked Wallace. 'How did she get here, through all them creatures?'

'We brought her with us,' said Meredith. 'She was in the wagon. We thought she was on the verge of death and. . to my eternal shame… I left her there.'

'Jesus!' said Wallace. 'But why didn't they kill her? They was all over the wagon.'