P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4) (30 page)

The bells were ringing sweetly. It seemed that all the residents of Deadwood and the surrounding area were streaming across the fields through floral arches to the white clapboard church. Most came with love in their hearts for their Pastor; many came to look at the notorious devil-woman from England who had won his heart. A few, who had entertained secret hopes of becoming Mrs Moon, came with their heads held high and their dreams in tatters.

‘She’s bound to be late,’ Obadiah said to Jeremiah Leroy Brown, his best man and a world renowned choir master, as they stood in the doorway of the church, welcoming the congregation, shaking hands with old and new friends.

‘Brides always are,’ said Jeremiah. ‘I just hope she’s worth waiting for.’ Despite his best efforts, Jeremiah’s normally open, sunny face was clouded. He was afraid his friend was making a terrible mistake.

If Obadiah had any last minute doubts he was keeping them to himself. ‘You’ve got the wedding ring?’ he asked.

‘Of course. And you? Is the signet ring safe?’

Obadiah patted his breast pocket. ‘I keep it on me at all times.’

Just then half a dozen well-wishers came hurrying up the path. ‘Are we in time?’ one asked.

Hawk, one of the ushers, stepped forward, smiling. ‘You’re fine. The English accents tell me you must be friends of the bride.’

‘That’s right! I’m Harry Towers. And this must be the lucky man!’

Obadiah found himself surrounded as the jolly bunch slapped him warmly on the back and shook his hand. Hawk came to his rescue. ‘Gentlemen, if you would like to take your seats? The church is crowded, so you’ll be at the back, I’m afraid.’

‘Perfectly OK,’ smiled Harry as he led his friends inside.

At that point the priest came out and summoned Obadiah and Jeremiah to the altar to await Lethe’s arrival. The organist embarked on the second airing of her repertoire.

By the third rendition the congregation was beginning to get restless. Several people slipped outside to stretch their legs, or smoke a furtive cigarette, until at last a flower-decked phaeton, drawn by a beautiful golden horse, came slowly into view. Word spread like wildfire through the church. Everyone hurried back inside.

With evident relief, the organist struck up Mendelssohn’s
Wedding March
. Everyone stood up, craning their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of the bride.

Lethe was serene in a modest gown of ivory satin and lace. Her bouquet of cream roses and honeysuckle was dotted with deep blue forget-me-nots. Her hand rested lightly on the arm of the short, thick-set man who had agreed to give her away; Lethe had made her peace with Titus. A guest with a familiar bouffant blonde wig, peacock eye shadow and silver false eyelashes looked as pleased as Punch. A sibilant whisper of, ‘He’ll have his work cut out making an honest woman out of her,’ indicated that Mirabel was on form and determined to enjoy the ceremony. Several heads nodded in agreement with her sentiment.

Jo walked slowly behind, dressed in palest green sprigged with tiny white flowers. It was the prettiest dress she had ever worn.

As they approached the altar Jo saw her father, smiling and waving at her. She smiled back, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind. Jo’s smile faltered slightly as he turned to attend to his companion. Staring straight ahead, her face expressionless, Ali was sitting in a wheelchair. Jo wondered if her mother had any awareness of where she was and what was happening.

Behind her the church doors closed, the music stopped and the congregation grew still. The lovely old church felt very peaceful.

The minister’s voice rang out.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the presence of these witnesses, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…’

The church bells were ringing joyfully as Obadiah and Lethe slowly made their way, smiling and laughing, down the aisle through a hail of rose petals. Then the old wooden door burst open, and half a dozen men brandishing machine guns fired into the air. People were screaming, trying to scramble outside, but the men fired again and everyone fell silent.

The man who called himself Harry Towers started speaking directly to Obadiah Moon. He threw something small and golden directly at the Pastor. ‘If you cannot be trusted to look after this, you are not fit to marry the woman I love above all others. She is rightfully mine.’

Lethe was deathly pale. ‘Jonathon?’ She looked in horror at the signet ring lying at her feet. ‘What have you done?’

‘I have done what you should have done and set the codes. You may have spurned me, but the Gatherers welcomed me with open arms.’

Apart from a handful of people, no-one understood what the gunman was talking about. Those who did were terrified.

‘Come with me willingly, Lethe, and you will buy Deadwood an hour. If I have to force you, and I will force you, none of these people will leave this church alive.’

Tendrils of panic were spreading like smoke as the guests, still not fully comprehending, sensed that something terrible was happening.

Lethe turned to Obadiah, her face pale, her beautiful eyes terrified. ‘I must go with him,’ she said. ‘But we will be together, I promise. And I always keep my promises.’ She held his face in her hands, whispered urgently and softly, and kissed him passionately.

Outside a helicopter could be heard, its rotor propellers whirring
,
ready for take-off.

‘I will come for you, my beloved,’ cried Obadiah as Jonathon Mallory led Lethe away. ‘I will bring you home.’ His face was thunderous as he turned to the gunman. ‘I swear I will hunt you down, Mallory, and pray that God will close His eyes.’

Titus Stigmurus had never been so authoritative as he took charge of the evacuation. Police cars cruised the streets; their loudspeakers ordering people to leave their homes immediately.

After a brief exchange with Titus, Obadiah had jumped onto Gleam, riding like the wind to the command centre.

Every conceivable form of transport was employed to evacuate Deadwood and the tribal settlements. Cars, lorries, buses, cycles, ambulances, tanks, fire engines, motorbikes, police cars, horses and carts all snaked in an apparently unending line along the old Deadwood trail. Beloved pets were stuffed into baskets; precious possessions were bundled up as the whole town emptied. The able-bodied were expected to walk. Silver Lightning and Grey Wolf’s warriors came to help, leading strings of horses for those who could ride.

Paul organised the evacuation of the hospital as the paramedics filled the ambulances with patients. Jo watched as Ali’s wheelchair was pushed up a ramp. Ali appeared oblivious to the situation.

Jo was just about to get into the ambulance with her mother when Summer Moon called her. ‘I could do with a hand here, Jo.’

Summer Moon was standing in the entrance to an old people’s home. ‘They won’t leave,’ she said helplessly, gesturing at a group of defiant pensioners. ‘Say they’ve had false alarms before.’

‘If there is a nuclear bomb,’ one toothless old man said, ‘won’t be nothing worth coming back to in my lifetime. I’d rather end my days cuddled up to Adelaide here.’

Adelaide, ninety if she was a day, nodded in agreement. Summer Moon tried to argue with them, but they and the other residents just dug their heels in deeper.

Jo was longing to join her parents, but she could see Summer Moon was distressed. She racked her brains. An idea took shape. ‘Adelaide,’ she said sweetly, 'isn't today the outing to the Phoenix Fair?’

‘Oh my!’ said Adelaide, completely flustered. ‘I’d completely forgotten! And I promised Bobby here a ride in the Tunnel of Love!’

‘Better hurry,’ said Jo. ‘The minibus is waiting.’

After they’d gone, Summer Moon said to Jo admiringly, ‘How long have you been able to plant ideas like that?’

‘Not long,’ replied Jo. She felt a little uncomfortable with the deception. ‘We should pack some of their things – photos and letters especially.’

As they left the home there was the sound of glass shattering nearby. ‘Looters already,’ said Summer Moon. ‘You’d think they wouldn’t hang about a minute longer than they had to.’

Four figures in hooded jackets appeared, brandishing baseball bats. ‘Oi, lads,’ shouted Jo. ‘Remember it’s free admission at the fair today!’

The looters melted away. Jo could see a frantic dog warden, trying to round up the town’s stray dogs. A man in a truck full of crying children drew up. ‘Get in, mate,’ he said to the warden. ‘Running out of time.’

An old man stood at his front door, waving a shotgun at anyone who tried to persuade him to leave. Shopkeepers emptied their display windows and pulled down the shutters before running to catch the last ride out. Just then Grey Wolf rode up, leading a docile Appaloosa mare. ‘Time to leave,’ he said to Summer Moon. ‘We need to hurry.’

‘What about Jo?’ Summer Moon looked worried.

Another rider joined them. ‘She’s coming with me.’

Obadiah’s face was so grim Jo felt fear clutch at her heart. He reached down and swung her up in front of him.

‘She betrayed me,’ was all he said to Jo. He turned Gleam towards the trail and they galloped in silence to the bunker.

Titus and Paul were holding the doors open for them. ‘Get inside!’ yelled Titus. As they clattered past Paul activated the thick steel doors which slowly slid shut behind them. ‘I didn’t mean the bloody horse as well,’ Titus added.

‘I’m not leaving her out there,’ snapped the Pastor. Quickly he settled Gleam in a crowded livestock compound, then they all hurried through the corridors to the command centre. As they ran Jo saw that the evacuees were setting about arranging accommodation; preparing food; organising work rotas.

They ran through the laboratories, moving further away from the residential sector of the complex. At last they came to a door that had been hacked open with an axe.

Inside a bewildering array of flashing lights, consoles, screens and dials made Jo feel giddy. Then her head cleared. With a sinking heart she recognised the images on the screens. Summer Moon’s healing tipi. A white, clapboard church in the middle of green fields. The Main Street in Deadwood. Some residents had remained behind. Shadowy figures could be seen going from building to building, their arms full of stolen property.  And then all she could see was the array of red illuminated numbers, inexorably counting down.

Epilogue – The Countdown

TEN

Obadiah looked haunted. ‘She betrayed me,’ was all he said again. He slumped into a chair and put his head in his hands. Catching sight of his new wedding ring, he hurled it across the room.

NINE

‘She betrayed us all,’ replied Titus.

EIGHT

‘I wanted to believe her.’ Jo was trying not to cry.

SEVEN

Paul put his arm round Jo’s shoulders. He looked at Obadiah. ‘What did she do exactly?’

SIX

‘She said the Abort code was engraved inside my wedding ring.’

FIVE

‘What was the code?’ asked Jo, scrabbling to find the ring, hoping against hope. Maybe Obadiah had mis-keyed the numbers.

FOUR

‘89I6’ said Obadiah. ‘Titus told her.’ Paul punched in the numbers, just in case, but the countdown continued.

THREE

Jo picked up the discarded wedding ring and studied it carefully.

TWO

‘You read it upside down!’ she gasped. ‘It’s 9I68!’

ONE

Praying to any deity that cared to listen, Jo frantically keyed in the correct numbers.

ZERO

Too late. All eyes turned as the images on the screens began to change.

There was a blinding flash of light, then a huge fireball, burning everything in its path, slowly started to rise, shattering the very ground into minute particles. As the air shimmered with heat, it blasted outwards, creating a shockwave that felled nearby buildings and hurled vehicles into the air. Slowly, steadily, the fireball continued to rise, carrying radioactive dust high into the air, the ominous mushroom cloud forming in front of their horrified eyes.

After the explosion a long, thundering growl rumbled on. As the heat diminished in intensity the fallout cloud of radioactive dust began to slowly settle, floating softly down, carried by the wind for miles and miles away from the centre of the blast, leaving behind a flattened wasteland.

Then silence.