Crouching down, he patted the boy’s fat arm. Ripples rolled away from the point of impact. “Sweet dreams, son. Take care.”
Standing up again, he turned his back on Rory, dipped his head against the oncoming wind, and strode off with more purpose than he’d felt in a long time. Nature would win out. Things would change.
Leaning back, she let the tension of the last few weeks run out of her shoulders. This was it, the start of Jake’s new life without Tom. It wouldn’t be long and he’d be out of Birmingham. The city was the last thing Jake needed to be free of before he could move on, and she could stop watching him.
As Jake walked, she could see the determination in his stride. Sure, he’d lost his best friend, but his purpose had been revitalized. Everything was going to work out.
Throwing glances over each shoulder at those surrounding her, she saw no one was watching. She was going to get away with not killing him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Seeing Rory had given Jake hope. What he was searching for was out there. All he could do about Tom now was learn from him. While gritting his teeth, he let his new mantra spin through his mind. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up.
The mental pep talk helped Jake move with greater ease. The infection that had a hold of his right arm was receding. His joints moved with fluidity. A little too confident in his miraculous healing, he clenched his right fist. The burn made his stomach lurch and his head spin. Maybe that was a step too far.
Pulling his shoulders back, Jake lifted his face into the stormy winds. The sandblasting hit the lenses on his glasses. Never give up. Never give up.
Stopping just before he slipped on it, Jake looked down at the bottle of water on the floor. It looked exactly the same as the one Tom had found, almost as if it had come from the same place. Looking around, Jake couldn’t see anything. For all he knew, he was surrounded by Bots on all sides that were just on the edge of his field of vision. Cameras could be feeding back to the tower right now, showing his every action.
Bending down, he lifted the bottle and flipped the lid off with his left hand. The fiddly movement ran an arthritic burn through his joints, and his fingers were too stiff to prevent the cap from being picked up by the wind and tossed away behind him. Watching it fly away, he shook his head. “Fuck it.”
Lifting the plastic bottle to his lips, he filled his dry mouth with the cool liquid.
Upending the bottle, draining it of its last bit of water, Jake let the container go. The liquid swilled in his stomach, but without a lid, he couldn’t save any for later. The water would be contaminated with grit by the time he tried to drink it.
A wet belch lifted into his throat. When he swallowed it back down, the muscles in his neck tightened at the sharp and acidic kick.
Clearing his throat of the burn nestling at the back of it, Jake lifted the scarf covering his mouth, spat, and set off again.
That was when he saw it.
At first, hidden by the dust storm, it looked like another mound of debris. But as he got closer, he saw its form had more order than that.
Halving the distance between him and the mound, he stopped. It was a church spire. The building was clearly buried far below it. The slightest smile lifted the sides of his mouth. Looking up at the sky, he laughed. “Not even Rixon can topple the big man.”
Walking closer, Jake looked up at the top of it. What was protruding from the rubble stood about ten feet tall. They were a long way from what used to be ground level.
The old tiles that clung to the structure looked like they should have been replaced years previously, but despite the harsh elements, they still clung on.
Walking around the other side, Jake found a hole big enough to poke his head into. Maybe there was a way down? Maybe there was food and water in the unintentional catacombs? This world below must be ripe for mining. If only he could get to it.
Staring at the craggy mouth, its dark throat a deep well, Jake looked at the snapped wooden batons stretching across the space. The roof looked like a ribcage with a hole blown through it.
As the strong wind raced down the hole like water finding the path of least resistance, Jake listened to the church push it back out again. The strong gales were returned with a gentle sigh.
A chill ran through Jake and his toes curled. The building sounded like it was alive. Shaking his head, he forced a laugh and spoke for, what he quickly realized, was the benefit of the building. “It’s just the wind, stop being such a pussy.”
Stepping closer, Jake listened. Inhale, sigh, inhale, sigh. Standing on tiptoes, he peered in. The absence of light was complete.
Despite every part of Jake’s being telling him to walk away, he edged farther forwards. Inhale, sigh, inhale, sigh.
When Jake was just a step away, he smelled the church’s dusty breath. The stale air reeked of rot. It was like moldy wood. Like old bones.
Taking a deep inhalation, Jake poked his head through the gap. The stench was worse inside, forcing him to screw his nose up. Blinking, Jake felt the darkness push against his eyeballs in its thirst for light.
Although Jake couldn’t see, he could feel infinite emptiness stretching out below him. This place was vast. How would he get down there?
Then he heard a scratching sound and his throat dried.
The thing!
It was still following him.
Speaking in a whisper, Jake shook his head. “No. Not again.” Grinding his teeth, he pushed his face farther into the hole and screamed into the empty space. “Fuck off, you piece of shit!” The call flew through the building. It found every corner of the cavernous space and returned an ever-diminishing, “SHIT, SHit, shit,” back to him.
The scratching stopped.
Holding his breath, Jake listened.
Silence.
Just as he was about to turn and walk away, he heard something. It was a guttural and mewling growl that was somewhere between a cry and a cough. “Shit.”
It was mimicking him.
A shadow moved through the darkness far below. It was as if the object was a deeper shade of black than the pitch of the church. Like it was on a different light spectrum.
The sound of Jake’s panicked breath bounced back at him as he scanned the emptiness. “Just fucking show yourself.”
The shadow moved again. It moved fast and made the clickety-click scuttling noise he’d heard when they were being chased by an army of them. It stopped where Jake could see it. Or at least see a darker blob of black. Its voice was clearer but still deep and rattling like a phlegmy cough. It repeated the word like it had no understanding of its meaning. “Shit.”
Jake bent down and lifted a rock from the floor. When he looked back in, the blob was still there. Putting all of his effort into it, Jake grunted as he launched the rock.
It crashed against what sounded like a stone floor below, and the creature responded with a scorpion’s hiss.
Pulling his head from the hole, Jake backed away. Picking up another rock, he lobbed it after the first one from where he was standing. The hissing grew louder.
Backing away some more, he threw another. This one missed but dislodged three tiles that all fell into the void. Three distant smashes were followed by a growl that made the thing sound closer than ever.
Forgetting his aches and injuries, Jake quickened his retreat. Then he heard something and froze.