Free Something of the Night by Paul Cave Page B

hurry with the test,
and get her to the infirmary,” Patterson said.
    “Okay,” Father acknowledged.
    He reached into his robe and
retrieved a small vial of clear liquid. Pulling the stopper from the glass
vial, he quickly poured a couple of drops onto his fingers. Then, he placed his
fingertips on the woman’s forehead and traced the shape of a crucifix across
the smooth skin of her brow. As his fingers moved in two straight lines, first
horizontally, then vertically, he muttered a barely audible incantation. Once
he had finished his bizarre ritual, he stood and said, “Okay, she’s clean.” He
moved over to the first person in line. He repeated the test a further five
times, then returned to Daniel’s side, replacing the now empty vial of holy
water in his pocket.
    “They’re clear, all of them,”
he said.
    Daniel dropped the machinegun
to his side. He took a step away from the Major and moved over to the guy who
had tried to help. “Sorry, brother,” he apologised. “But we need to be sure
you’re all clean.”
    The aging newcomer nodded to
Daniel. “I understand,” he responded. With a shift of his chin, he pointed
towards the woman. “May I?”
    “Yeah – fine,” Daniel said.
    The man moved away from the
rest of the group, bent over the woman and placed his fingers against her
throat. “Her pulse is steady, but weak. We need to get her warm, and quick. If
we don’t hurry she could go into complete shutdown.” Seeing the surprise on
their faces, the newcomer said, “I’m a doctor.” He paused for a second,
thoughtful. “Well, I used to be a doctor before all … this.” His eyes roamed
from one desperate face to the next. He shook his head as if trying to conjure
up a picture of better times.
    “Have you got a surgery in here?”
he asked, his eyes remaining on the woman’s pale face.
    “Yeah, but few supplies,”
Patterson said.
    “As long as we can get her
warm, and quickly, then I think she’ll be just fine,” the doctor said.
    Slinging the machinegun over
his shoulder, Daniel stepped forward. He knelt beside the woman. Then forced
his hands underneath her limp body and pulled her up from the hard surface. She
was as light as an infant. He held her tightly against his chest. A cold energy
radiated outwards, which sent a shiver of cold spiders skittering along the
length of Daniel’s spine.
    “Let’s go,” he said, and took
a step away from the group.
    “I should go with you,” the
doctor suggested.
    Major Patterson gave a simple
nod and the doctor quickly joined Daniel at his side.
    “Anyone else in need of
treatment?” Father asked.
    One or two refugees stepped
forwards to reveal blackened and bruised injuries, but most were unharmed and
in relatively good health, considering their ordeal.
    “I hope she’s gonna be okay,”
a young teenager said, through a threadbare cowl.
    “She seemed fine when we
picked her up,” another figure commented.
    “Picked her up?” Patterson
asked.
    The second speaker turned. A
hollow face with ancient skin spoke. “Found her ‘bout twenty miles back, alone.
Said she’d escaped from some kinda camp.”
    “Camp?” Patterson questioned.
    “Yeah,” the teenager
interjected, “said she’d been held in some sort of … breeding camp? But she
must have escape-”
    The young man’s sentence was
cut abruptly short when the military figure before him turned quickly on his
heels and headed away.
     
    ***
     
    She lay in his arms, the strong drum of his heart
beating against her. Although her own organ effortlessly pumped blood through
her veins and arteries, the liquid ran cold, and instead of each cell
containing a living nucleus, it housed nothing but dead matter. The only heat
that came from her body was the fire that burnt inside her closed fist.
    She carefully laid her arm
across her chest and nestled the hand underneath the folds of her opposite arm.
At first, she felt just a mere tingle of heat. The sensation was a welcome one
to