‘What was
‘That was Jack’s plan working,’ Owen said grimly.
‘It was as if someone was drilling out all my teeth at the same time.’
‘Let’s hope it bought Jack the time he wanted.’ Owen looked around at the winged creatures that had spilled out of the cold store. The pain felt by their brother had obviously hit them hard, but they were beginning to recover. ‘Quick, let’s get out of here.’
He half-dragged Toshiko through the door and into the room beyond, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t have much time to take in the sight of all the canning machinery, and the two men fastened to it. Jack was standing in the centre of the room, propping Gwen up. He smiled at Owen and Toshiko as they arrived.
‘Are we having fun yet?’ he asked.
‘There’s something you should know-’ Owen started.
‘There’s many things I should know, including how to mix the perfect hyper-vodka and how to recover from its effects. What’s this one?’
‘There’s about thirty of those winged things loose outside, and a hospital ward with about the same number of sedated patients,’ Owen said rapidly. ‘The winged things are going to head right for them, plunge themselves right in and lay their eggs. The eggs we can deal with — I recommend a flamethrower and then some acid on the ashes — but that leaves us with thirty-odd dead people, and I’m not comfortable with that.’
Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?’
‘I reckon we have about three minutes before it’s too late.’
Jack’s gaze flicked left and right as he considered his options. ‘Bullet’s will take out those flying things, won’t they?’
‘Yeah, but there’s a swarm of them. You’d never get them all before they get you. Remember, they’re attracted by body heat.’
‘Yeah, I remember.’ A grin burst across Jack’s face. ‘Did I see a fire extinguisher out in the corridor?’
Owen shrugged.
‘Yes, you did,’ Toshiko answered.
‘Carbon dioxide or foam?’
Toshiko thought for a moment. ‘Judging by the colour coding, carbon dioxide.’
‘Perfect. Can someone get it for me without getting hit by one of those things?’
Gwen, Owen and Toshiko exchanged dubious glances. Eventually, Toshiko opened the door, Gwen grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall and Owen held his automatic at the ready in case any of the creatures flew at them.
He needn’t have worried. They were all crawling or flying unsteadily along the corridor, gaining strength by the moment, towards the medical unit. Towards their new hosts.
Jack had taken his coat and shirt off, and was standing bare-chested, arms extended. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Do it.’
‘But-’
‘Do it.’
Owen raised the fire extinguisher. He looked uncertainly at Gwen and then at Toshiko. They just stared back.
He pulled the safety pin out and pressed the handle firmly down.
Carbon dioxide gushed from the fire extinguisher’s nozzle, enveloping Jack in a pall of white fog. The gas, expanding as it emerged from its pressurised state, sucked heat from the air. Jack’s hands were just visible, emerging from the cloud, white with frost, the fingertips glistening. He was turning slowly, letting the vapour hit him from all sides.
Owen released the handle and let the fire extinguisher drop.
Jack stood there like a marble statue, every muscle on his stomach and his arms standing proud and firm.
He opened his eyes and winked at Owen. Then he scooped up the guns — his and Gwen’s — from the table. Gwen held out a spare magazine she had taken from her pocket. Jack took it, then walked stiffly out of the room and down the corridor.
There was silence for a few moments, then Owen heard the sound of gunfire — six rapid shots from Jack’s Webley, then a series of deeper roars from Gwen’s Glock. Owen imagined the creatures whirring around the cavernous room with the hospital beds in the centre, and Jack, standing there, picking them off like a man firing at clay pigeons. The firing started up again, higher and flatter than the Glock. He must have reloaded his Webley. Another pause, and then the firing started again, deeper this time: the Glock again.
Owen had lost count of the number of shots he’d heard, when suddenly everything went silent. Had Jack killed all the creatures, or had one of them plunged itself into his chest, filling him full of eggs? Still, no sound. No footsteps. Nothing.
Fingers appeared around the edge of the doorway. White, cold fingers.
Jack walked slowly back into the room.
‘That was fun,’ he said. ‘Forget about diet pills: I think we’ve just discovered the logical successor to paintballing.’
TWENTY
The sky was bright and clear, a wash of purest azure from horizon to horizon. Penarth Head stood out crisply against the sky, almost as if the whole scene were a collage and the headland had been cut out of a picture in a magazine and stuck onto blue card. Even the water of the bay seemed purer than usual, sparkling in the sunshine.
Standing at the quay that led down to the ferry, Jack and Gwen were comfortably silent. They had shared life and death together, and although they had plenty they wanted to say to one another, for the moment they were content.
‘What happened to the patients in Scotus’s medical facility?’ Gwen asked eventually.
‘Owen brought them out of sedation, one by one, and spun them some story that they’d been drugged in a bar. He’s very fond of that story. I think it has some kind of resonance for him.’
‘How did he explain the dressings and the scars?’
‘Told them they were missing a kidney, which was probably on its way to the Middle East to be transplanted into a billionaire oil tycoon. Hey, if it means they’re more careful about what they eat and drink in future then it’s a plus as far as I’m concerned.’
‘And they bought it?’
Jack smiled. ‘Owen can be very convincing, when he wants to be. I think he’s taken four of them out for dinner so far, and he’s working on the rest.’
Far out across the bay a small boat was bobbing around. Normally, Gwen wouldn’t have been able to see even half that distance, but the air was so clear she felt she could see all the way across to Weston-super-Mare if she tried.
‘What about Doctor Scotus?’ she asked.
‘Owen and I talked about that. In the end, it wasn’t our job to punish him. We suggested he try one of the “Stop” pills, under medical supervision, to see whether it would get rid of the thing that was inside him, infiltrating its way through his flesh. He couldn’t take it himself, of course — the thing wouldn’t let itself be harmed — so Owen dissolved it in solution and injected it.’
‘OK. And..?’
‘And Scotus was right. The creature had wound itself too tightly around him. He didn’t survive the process.’
‘Oh.’ A moment’s pause. ‘And Lucy?’
‘Returned to full physical health.’
Gwen thought for a moment. ‘She killed her boyfriend, you know. She
