See Part One for Disclaimers
***5***
"How is he?"
Beka gasped, shocked at the sudden voice. For a split-second she'd thought Harper had spoken. But in the next moment she recognised the tone as Rev Bem's.
The Magog always moved silently, like the rest of his race. But unlike them, he never used his natural stealth to threaten.
It still didn't stop her heart from jumping at his sudden appearance.
"Not good." She sighed. Beka rarely felt as helpless as she did right now. "I don't know what's going on in that head of his but whatever it is, it's not helping."
Rev looked down at the young man. Harper's face was pale and coated in sweat, his eyes sunken into their sockets. "The Divine has a plan for all of us. We must pray Harper's part in all things is not completed just yet."
Beka yawned, "yeah." She took one last look at Harper; "he's all yours."
Rev watched her leave then began to pray.
******
His chest hurt. The cold air burnt his lungs as he gulped down breaths but it wasn't enough to satisfy the exhaustion in his muscles.
"Keep going," his aunt wept. "Don't look back."
Harper didn't want to look back, didn't want to see Liam and Podraig's flesh devoured, but the urge to do so was almost overwhelming. He needed to see if they were still alive. He heard a howl in pain. Knew it was his uncle. Jennifer heard it too and choked back a sob, tightening her grip on the little girl in her arms.
"Daddy!" Siobhan stopped and turned back. "DADDY!"
Dec broke into a run, following his sister.
"NO!" Their mother cried, "Siobhan! Declan!"
Jennifer grabbed Harper to stop him from going too. "Take her." His aunt said, thrusting little Jessie into his arms. She struggled to return to her mother. "Get her away from here!" Jennifer began running after her children.
"Mummy!" Jessie screamed, "don't go, mummy."
"Please Seamus!" Jennifer called back.
Harper felt tears on his cheeks. He looked around at the crowds of people, some heading as fast as they could away from the camps in an effort to escape, some like him, standing there, not knowing what to do and further back, those who had chosen to stand their ground and fight.
And beyond them, those who had been. . ..Don't think of that!
The Magog were winning. He could just see their masses, coming ever closer as they killed and eat those who stood in their way, laying their eggs in others. He knew he shouldn't head towards them, knew he ought to get Jessie to safety, but he couldn't just abandon his family.
Harper gripped Jessie tightly and began running after Jennifer. He heard a few of the people he knew call to him not to go. In some distant part of his mind, he realised one of them was Ashling. And knew that was probably the last time he'd ever see her.
And as the thought that he should have given Jessie to her occurred to him, he stopped in horror.
Dec was on the ground, his body unnaturally stiff and rigid. He watched as Siobhan was thrown next to him. He cried out as he saw four Magog fall on top of the twins, smothering them.
Their mother screamed. She threw herself at the horde of Magog, hitting their backs, kicking. Her instinct to save her children giving her strength.
One Magog stood up and turned to her. Acid spewed from the Magog's mouth hitting Jennifer in the face. A scream of utter anguish filled the air as her skin bubbled and peeled. She fell back onto the blood soaked mud her fingers clawing at her face to get the acid off. Her nails drew blood, which flowed down her neck and oozed over her hands.
And yet in her agony she managed to open her eyes and see Harper.
"Run, Seamus, save my baby!"
The Magog turned to Seamus and started towards the boy.
Harper took one last look at his aunt and ran.
******
Rev stood by Harper's bedside, head bowed, listening to his quiet moans and mumbled words as he tossed and turned. Rev Bem's lips moved slightly as he murmured a prey to the Divine.
Beads of sweat trickled down Harper's brow and Rev watched as he twisted in the throws of some nightmare. His dreams gave him no rest.
Rev closed his eyes and lay his hand above Harper's heart. His touch meant to offer comfort. To let the young man know he wasn't alone.
Harper's eyes snapped open at the feel of the clawed Magog hand on him, bright and vivid with fever.
He stared up at Rev, his face full of fear.
And then hate. . .
Harper struggled from his bed; his limbs weak but he managed to get to his feet. He lunged forward, his hands slipping around Rev's throat and squeezing with surprising strength. The Magog gasped in surprise. He took Harper's wrists and tried to pull him off without hurting the young man.
At that moment Dylan walked into the room to check on Harper's condition.
"Rev!" Dylan's voice rang out, "Harper!"
Hunt rushed forward and grabbed Harper, pulling him off Rev with ease.
Rev stumbled backwards, gasping for breath and rubbing his neck. "It's the fever," he managed to say, "he doesn't know what he's doing."
Harper sank into Dylan's arms and the captain lifted him and returned him to his bed. He pulled the quilt over him and watched as Harper slipped back into his fevered dreams.
"What made him attack you?"
"I do not know."
******
It was dark when the Magog pulled back, disappearing almost as fast as they came. They set fire to the huts in celebration. It spread rapidly destroying the crops as it engulfed everything in sight. The animals burned too. There would be hardly any food, certainly not enough to last the winter. The survivors who were able formed human chains to the river and passed buckets of water in a desperate effort to save what was left of their community. Harper had helped where he could, becoming covered in soot and soaked to the skin.
When he could do no more, he found a sheltered spot and huddled with his little cousin to keep her warm.
What had happened to her parents? To the twin's?
Where was his Da?
Jessie was whimpering in his arms. The child's tiny body felt limp, her blue eyes disinterested in the world. He clutched at her like a drowning man clutches at a life preserver; his entire world had narrowed until nothing else existed but her. She was his reason for being.
Shocked and injured people wandered around the camps. Some were searching for their loved ones; others had found them, what was left of them.
They all wore the same expression.
They all knew they stood in Hell.
"Seamus?"
He looked up with red-rimmed eyes, his cheeks streaked with tears. The man who stood over him wept with relief at finding him alive.
"Daddy?" Whispered Harper.
His father pulled him into his arms, his grip so tight it felt like he would never let him go.
***6***
His father carried Jessie as he led Harper through the camps and the dazed and injured people. All around them were the dead and the dying, Magog as well as human. Some of the Magog bodies had been set alight filling the air with the acrid scent of burning flesh and fur. A small act of vengeance by the torn and ravaged souls left behind.
Almost all of the huts that had survived the blaze had been looted, the structures weakened near to collapse. But most of the homesteads were just ashes now, smouldering in the darkness.
His father kept asking him what had happened to Liam and Jennifer and the twins. He couldn't answer, couldn't even think of it. He didn't want to be made to remember what he'd seen. The sight of the half-eaten corpses they picked their way through was reminder enough. He was glad that Jessie had fallen into an exhausted sleep. No one should have to see this, but definitely not a 3-year-old child.
Harper tried his best to ignore the dead, not look at them. The darkness masked most of the grizzly remains from him but not all.
He knew where they going. His father was taking him home. He could see smoke rising from the place where their hut was and realised there was probably very little left."Callum!"
Harper felt his heart leap at the sound of that voice. Podraig dodged his way around the people, hurrying towards them. His face was scarred with Magog venom and his clothes damp with blood, both his own and other people's. Harper's stomach lurched when he realised Podraig's arm was badly mauled. Someone had cauterised the vicious tears to stop the bleeding. He wondered how the man was managing to stay upright.
"Seamus! Jessie!" The twin's uncle enveloped him in a hug, "We thought-" He stopped, unable to complete the sentence. We thought you'd been eaten."We?" Callum asked, "are Liam and Jen alright?"
"Liam is hurt badly. He. . ." Podraig looked away. "He's dying. Jen is with him. . .and the twins. They're. . ." He bowed his head, "they're alive."
******
Podraig took them to the main medical centre in the refugee camp. A place Harper had been to a number of times in his life. Temporary shelters had been erected around the centre. Small tents for the homeless families and the larger ones made extra 'wards' for the injured. Behind these, Harper saw a sea of dirty sheets laid out but there were so many bodies being brought there by the survivors that some of the mostly untouched corpses hadn't been covered. The sheets were being saved for those to hideously injured to be seen.
The medical staff hurried around, working as fast as possible, trying to save as many as they could. But supplies were limited; time was short.
Hard choices were being made.
A triage team had already treated Podraig. And he told them that Jennifer had received care too, but Liam and the twins had not.
Nothing could be done for them.
They were as good as dead already.
Podraig stopped at the entrance to one of the little shelters and held open the door flap. They went in.
Jennifer sat on the floor, her face, arms and hands wrapped in bandages. Her eyes stared out from the mask holding no emotion. It was almost as if she couldn't see.
Then she saw the child sleeping in Callum's arms and she cried out. She pulled herself painfully to her feet and snatched the little girl back.
Harper looked beyond his aunt to the rough rag beds where his uncle and cousin's lay. He knelt between them, afraid of what he would see. Liam was unconscious, his life slipping away moment by moment. He was so badly burned by the Magog venom Harper only recognised his uncle by the ornate Celtic cross that hung around his neck. His left shoulder was bound tightly to stem the flow of blood from the stump where his arm used to be.
Seamus looked away and his eyes fell on Siobhan's skinny frame. He gasped when he realised she was awake. Both the twins were.
"Dec! Siobhan!" He said in relief, he had thought he wouldn't see them again. "You guys are OK?" And then he noticed their eyes, wide with terror.
"They can't move, Shay," Podraig murmured, "they're paralysed."
Then he understood their terror.
Terror at not being able to move.
Terror at the feel of the Magog eggs inside them.
Terror because they knew they were going to die.
"But that means they're-"
Harper choked back a sob and fled from the shelter. He barely got outside before the little food he had inside his stomach hit the ground.
***7***
Dawn broke over the camps, bringing a light drizzle. The survivors, their faces pale and drawn, began clearing up. Taking the dead to the make shift morgue outside the medical centre and digging graves. That was the most urgent deed, re-building of their homes could wait. The rapidly decaying bodies would spread disease; they had to buried quickly. The mood sombre but they were determined. Their community had been challenged before, by floods, disease and Nietzschean raiding parties. But they had survived. They would again.
Others moved the 'infested' to a separate hut. The ones who lay paralysed on the ground, incubating little Magog eggs. Their innards being eaten but they were unable to scream.
No one touched the Magog dead; too afraid you could be infected even from a corpse. They were simply burned where they lay.
As the day wore on, the stink of the decaying bodies filled the air, forcing them all to cover their mouths and noses with rags to guard against infection and keep out the smell.
The dead piled up, too many to count, some burned beyond recognition, beyond all semblance of humanity.
Some of the bodies were claimed by relatives and given a worthy burial. Most had no family left alive to find them and offer them a dignified funeral. They would be placed into mass graves and covered.
Despite his young years, Harper went with his father and Podraig to help. He was paired with a 16-year-old lad, David, to stretcher the dead to the mass grave. At first they both tried to lay the corpses carefully and with respect but as the numbers mounted and the hole filled, it became impossible to do that. In the end it felt just like moving logs or metal casings.
When night fell, he was told to return to his family. He got back to find his aunt sobbing quietly, watching Jessica sleep. He sat beside her, "Aunt Jen?"
She turned to him and then looked behind her at the beds. Harper followed her eyes and saw Liam's face was covered.
His uncle was dead.
******
They buried Liam later that night and covered his grave with a cairn of stones. The next morning, a Sunday, a small group of religious leaders held prayers at the mounds of earth where so many had been laid to rest in a mass grave. Harper attended the service with Podraig and his father but the memorial's given felt like little more than a pale shadow of what they should have been. There were no words in existence to express the enormity of what had happened. Hardly any tears were shed, there wasn't any left.
Harper saw Ashling on the other side of the mass grave, standing with her older brother, the only other member of her family to survive. They had found what little was left of their mother but nothing of their father. If he hadn't been eaten, he was one of those blackened lumps Harper had laid in this grave. She smiled ever so slightly when she saw him, a small joy in a world turned mad.
He tried to smile back but found he was too tired. He hadn't slept properly since the Magog came. Every time he closed his eyes at night he saw them, killing, spitting their acid venom. . .devouring human flesh. And even when he did manage to fall asleep, the images came to him in dreams. Jennifer would wake him but she was too tired to offer much comfort.
His aunt spent most of her time by the twin's bedside, feeding them through straws and taking care of the most basic natural functions that they had lost control over. Harper tried not to notice when one of them wet themselves, his heart aching when he saw the shame in their eyes over their lose of control. The medical staff was due to visit them later that day. Podraig knew what the doctors would say. Knew what they had to do.
So did Harper.
But Jennifer refused to believe they were dying. Didn't want to except that nothing could be done.
And Callum. . .his father would snort and walk away.
When the service ended, they walked back to the temporary shelter in silence. It was their home now. They had scavenged what little was left of their home, the pots and farming tools mostly, the metal things that hadn't burned. Podraig was already talking of rebuilding their shanties when his arms were healed.
The medic came at midday, looking tired and sombre. There had been so many injured and so few medical staff. He attended to Jennifer and Podraig, changing their bandages and cleaning their wounds before checking over Harper and Jessie.
Then he turned to leave.
"Wait!" Jennifer stopped him and pointed to the twins in the beds, "my children!"
The medic looked at Podriag. "Infested?"
Podraig bowed his head. "Yes."
"Then you know what you have to do," he said. "I'll send a nurse around with. . ." He trailed off, not wanting to say the words.
But Podraig understood. "Thank you."
"Wait!" Jennifer cried. "Aren't you even going to look at them?"
The medic laid a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do."
"No. . .no there must be. . .there has to be!"
"Jennifer. . ." Podraig pulled her into his arms. The woman pressed her bandaged face into his shoulder and wept.
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