Free Vengeance by Colin Harvey Page A

away, just empty shells to be discarded, if no one stepped forward to claim them.
    Gabriel stood, rooted. In the whole world there was nowhere else to go. The shock wasn't too bad to start with. It was more numbness than anything else. He stood there quietly, swaying as if he were a ship being buffeted by winds no one else could feel. The crowd all around him kept him upright, at least until they began to disperse, and then he began to sway more and more, as if the invisible winds had gained strength. Beneath the numbness, the pain started to gnaw away at him.
    Barely twenty feet away, unseen by Gabriel, Uncle Dez staggered homewards, his face a blank mask, muttering, “Hardly worth living. Still, there's Jasper. Better to get her body healed as best we can, then we'll inter it. At least Gabriel can take some comfort, maybe until he meets a new girl.” People looked askance at his muttering. “Life goes on, and there's still Jasper to think of."
    In a passing moment of lucidity, he wondered where Gabriel was. It was unlike him not to turn up. Maybe he'd been told and was grieving at home. He put it from his mind, pushed through the dispersing crowd, and went home.
    The bell tolled from the steeple of the nearby watchtower. The bell tolled either to warn of danger or to notify of disaster. Someone had said over a hundred were dead. Hardly a family was untouched. Apart from Gabriel, the square had emptied long before, the crowd's curiosity assuaged. There was nothing left now. Just a few pieces of glass and other assorted wreckage.
    As it grew dark, Gabriel barely noticed the cleaners rush from the shadows. Their insect voices chittered to one another, their little bodies rushed here and there, scurrying away on hind legs, with the smaller pieces of rubbish held tightly to their chests with four small arms. The bigger pieces were the subject of animated debates, in some cases even fights, topped and tailed with dances to intimidate their opponents. When the discussions were settled, gangs of the little creatures hauled their prizes off to nests beneath the buildings around the square.
    One of the creatures pulled at his foot, fooled by his immobility into thinking he was part of the rubbish, but he shook his foot, and it retreated, squeaking disgustedly.
    The bloodstains were left to be absorbed into the pavement. By the time it was light, there was nothing left to show anything had happened in the square.
    She was a little late tonight, but she'd come. They always allowed a few minutes leeway on any date. Any minute now, she'd run from the side of the square she always came from and wave to him. The lights weren't working tonight, maybe something was wrong with the power. It was pretty dark for seven o'clock. But when she arrived, the world would brighten.
    "It's eleven o'clock, Gabriel,” his familiar said, in Rosina's lovely voice. It had been playing up all night. He'd never known a familiar to get the time so completely wrong, but no one ever said they were infallible. He'd get it fixed.
    "Familiar off,” he said.
    She was safe now, still coming to meet him, somewhere around the corner, just out of sight. No harm could come to her now, unlike that other poor girl. He'd take care of her. As long as it wasn't yet seven, she was still on her way.
    Then it was daylight, the early-morning sun peering into the square. “Must've fallen asleep,” he muttered. “Better get to work. I'll call Rosie tonight."
    But when he got to work, breathless and flustered, he found it deserted. Peering through the locked gate, he heard a shout.
    "Hey you! Clear off! Can't you—” The janitor broke off and smiled warily. “You're keen, aren't you? We've closed today. Even Sullivan wouldn't expect people to work today.” He added, “I'm sorry about what happened.” He stopped. Gabriel had walked away.
* * * *
    "It's a miracle he's alive at all,” the woman serving in the shop said to her customer, nodding at Meph, who shambled up and