The Golem let him come. Made his job easier.
The man drew near. When he reached arm’s length, his left hand appeared from behind his back. He was holding a huge kitchen knife. His eyes glittered and he brought it forward, straight towards the Golem’s chest. He screamed as he lunged.
Last reserves of adrenalin kicking in, the Golem pivoted, moving his torso away from the blade. It struck him in the arm — his right arm — slicing along his bicep, sticking in. More pain.
His assailant quickly pulled it out, jabbed and slashed again. The Golem felt his arm being cut, sliced. His head swirled as the pain increased. He was staggering, about to black out.
His attacker sensed victory. The Golem could see it in his eyes. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Wouldn’t allow it to happen.
The man took another swing with the blade. It connected with the Golem’s right side. He stuck the blade in hard. His eyes blazed. He couldn’t believe he was winning.
The Golem had to do something. He had to turn the situation into an opportunity. He moved in close to his assailant, trying to ignore the feel of razor-sharp metal being pushed further into his body as he did so.
He reached out his right hand. Took his attacker by the throat.
His opponent knew immediately what was happening. What the Golem was doing to him. He tried to wriggle out of the grip, push his body away from the attack. Couldn’t. Even though the Golem’s grip was weaker than usual, it was still stronger than most people’s.
Stronger than his assailant could break.
The knife dropped from the man’s fingers. The laptop from his other hand. He brought both hands up to his throat, clawed at the Golem’s fingers, tried desperately to prise them off.
The Golem felt pain running all over his body. Like he had been trussed up in electrified barbed wire. He tried to ignore it, concentrate on this one task, the job he had been paid for.
His assailant struggled. The Golem locked his fingers. Squeezed harder.
‘I want more life, fucker … ’
Attacker became victim. His face reddened, turned purple. His eyes bulged, looked ready to pop. His constricted throat made a rattling, gurgling sound. He stopped struggling.
The Golem felt the man’s body begin to weaken, start to go limp. He gripped even harder, summoning his remaining strength to do so.
Eventually his victim’s body lost the will to fight. The Golem’s will was stronger.
He released his grip, watched as the body slumped to the ground, looked down at it.
‘Time to die … ’
His head felt light, his legs, arms trembled. His own body was going to give up soon. He knew that.
He heard a noise. Turned.
Saw his Prius rocking, moving, coming to a halt. The front left side crumpled, the light hanging out through smashed glass like a distended eyeball.
He saw the car that had knocked his out of the way driving off. Guessed that the occupants of the caravan had been in there.
Bending down and almost keeling over, he picked up the laptop and turned. Made his way slowly down the drive, past the corpses of the dogs, back to his car. His self-preservation instinct overrode everything else.
He got behind the wheel, put the car in gear, drove off.
He made it about half a mile down the road before pulling in to the entrance of a forest and passing out.
46
The day was winding down. The sun giving up the fight, falling out of the sky. Marina felt the same. She was tired and hungry, running only on adrenalin and hope.
She followed her sat nav. It told her she had reached her destination. She saw a house before her. Old, dilapidated. A caravan next to it in a similar state. A parked car.
No one about.
She got out of the car, locked it behind her. Walked slowly up the drive towards the house.
She couldn’t help but notice that on her right were two black and brown lumps, the ground dark and glistening around them. Feeling a thud of trepidation in her heart, she crossed over to look at them. Her heart flipped at what she found there.
‘Oh God … oh God … ’
The two Rottweilers were dead. One was bloodied and torn; the other just looked broken.
Hurrying yet hesitant at the same time, she made her way up to the house.
Where she found the body of a man by the back door.
Marina turned, doubled over, retched.
Straightening up, she found her head spinning. She looked round, feeling like she was losing whatever tenuous control she had recently gained over her situation. She ran to the caravan, pulled open the door. No one there. But someone had been here, and quite recently.
Leaving the door swinging, she ran back to the house. Closing her eyes, she stepped over the corpse by the door, entered.
The house, despite the brightness outside, was in darkness. Someone had been living there and it looked like they had left in a hurry. On the kitchen table were the remains of a meal and some electronic equipment. It looked like someone had started to dismantle it then decided to leave. The food had been similarly abandoned.
Marina counted the dishes. Three. Two adult-size plates, one small one. Her heart lurched once more.
‘Oh God … Josephina … ’
Marina found her voice. She went through the rest of the house screaming at the top of her lungs.
‘Josephina! Josie!’
Her only reply was an echoing stillness.
The house looked like it had been squatted in. Clothes, belongings, scattered all over the place. Sleeping bags lay on mattresses. There had been two people in one room. She spotted that.
But in the front room she found something else. A rope tied to the door handle. It stretched down to another mattress on the floor. A thin sheet covered it. At the side of the mattress was a small stuffed animal.
Marina felt her legs about to give way, her heart break. She fell to her knees. Picked up the toy.
‘Lady … ’
Josephina’s toy dog. The one she thought was Lady from the Disney film. She never went anywhere without that. Slept with it clutched to her chest. Carried it round the house during the day. Talked to it at mealtimes.
Tears came then. But Marina didn’t know whether she was crying from loss, helplessness or rage. Or all three.
Head swirling, she stood up, the toy clutched in her hand.
She made her way out of the house, back to the car. Got in. Drove away.
No idea where she was going.
Just as fast and as far away as she could.
PART THREE
CRUCIFIXION SUNDAY
