But those orders were not always possible. The humans in the forest had fought back, killing his infernal brothers and wounding David—the female with the loud shouty stick had shot fire into his chest. He clawed at the wound now and pulled out a piece of shiny, nasty metal. He threw it into the dirt with a hiss. The humans fought back too hard. The one they'd followed from the road had tricked them, led them into an ambush they were too weak to repel.
Some ancient part of David, some fragment of fear remaining, had caused him to dash into the safety of the trees. Weak, oily memories flowed through his broken mind and made him feel somehow at home amongst these many trees. Had there been a time when running through the woods had made him feel free and… happy? The thick scabs on his mind fell away. He pictured a small boy that might once have been him.
No, must think not on things. Must only obey. Obey masters. David must kill.
Killing was good but dying was bad. David did not want to go back to the burning place. This place was better. This place had trees. But he would not go back and face the human with the big hammer or the female with the loud shouty stick.
No, David would find more of his brothers and come back. Yes, that would be to serve. His masters needed to know there were secret humans in the forest. Secret humans in the trees.
David knows. David knows their secret. Must tell. Will tell.
Humans in the forest.
22
DR KAMIYO
Dr Kamiyo was happy with his infirmary, given it had only been a day since he’d arrived at the camp. Jackie had agreed to disperse people throughout the log cabin, and have them sleep in tents where possible, but she also allocated three rooms on the third floor to be used for treatment. One was a conference room with enough space for five or six people. The other two rooms were small, and ideal for anyone infectious. Each room had windows that could be opened to allow ventilation. At the moment, he had a group of six in the conference room—one adult and five children. They each had fevers, possibly more Typhoid. Carol and Michael were amongst the patients, resting out their recovery. Of the other two smaller rooms, one was empty and one was occupied by a single occupant. It was with that occupant that Kamiyo remained now.
Vamps had been unconscious since Ted struck him with that savage hammer of his. The young man’s collarbone had been obliterated, and his shoulder badly dislocated. Kamiyo had managed to reset it that morning. Despite severe injuries, it was odd the patient had not yet awoken. Vamps had fallen unconscious from trauma, yes, but not from a head wound. That he was still asleep was a troubling sign.
Kamiyo had carried Vamps upstairs last night with the help of Eric—and Philip who had glared at Kamiyo the entire time. The grieving father was a concern, for he truly blamed Bray’s death on Kamiyo. Grief could be a dangerous thing, and the world was already dangerous enough.
It had been Eric’s idea to tie Vamps to the radiator with rope, and Kamiyo had agreed. The room already had a bed, so they slid it beneath the window to secure Vamps to the radiator. It made it awkward to check on the young man, but Kamiyo wasn’t ignorant to the danger Vamps posed.
Vamps had said he’d come from Hell and taken part in a triumphant battle against the demons in Portsmouth. Could that be true? It was only the slim possibility that Vamps was a good person in need of help that had allowed Kamiyo to convince the camp to give the young man a stay of execution.
Despite his failure to awake, Vamps’ vital signs were healthy, and he had lost much of his sickly pallor. In an ideal world, Kamiyo would have placed him on a hydrating drip, but as it was, he was forced to dribble small amounts of water into the young man’s mouth every half hour, along with packets of salt and sugar from the cabin’s small café. A crude way to give sustenance, but better than nothing. If Vamps didn’t awake soon, he might not ever.
Come on, just wake up and talk. Give me those answers I’m praying you have. Like, what is the meaning to all this?
As if his thoughts were magic, Vamps opened his eyes and sat bolt upright in the bed gasping. Kamiyo yelped at the unexpectedness. “Boris Johnson!”
“The Red Lord,” the young man said. “He’s here.”
Kamiyo placed a hand on Vamps’ chest to calm him, but when he realised he was bound, he panicked and started yanking at his ropes. The radiator rattled.
“Hey!” Kamiyo shouted in his face. “Hey, Vamps, calm down. You’re safe, okay? It’s me, Doctor Kamiyo.”
Vamps stared blankly like he didn’t recognise Kamiyo, but gradually he settled. “D-Doc? Doc, I’m in trouble, bruv.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Red Lord. He’s here.”
Here we go again, thought Kamiyo, but then reminded himself that he somehow believed the craziness this young man spouted. “Who is the Red Lord, Vamps?”
Vamps puckered his mouth, like he was trying to bring forth saliva. Kamiyo got him a glass of water, and after taking a sip, he spoke. “The Red Lord is Darth Vader, bruv. He’s the one behind the end of the universe, you get me?”
“You mean the world?”
“Nah, I mean the universe, bruv. God made bare amounts of worlds and filled ‘em with people, innit? The Red Lord has been attacking all the Earths and wiping out humanity on each one as he goes. Now he’s here to finish off this
