“See?” Diane’s eyes lit up in triumph. “The murderer’s accomplice shows his true colours! He defends not only the murderer, but the demon itself! They are as guilty as each other.”
“Are you going to take her word for all of this? Why put the group’s faith in just one? What’s wrong with you all?” McConnell wailed as he was dragged to the Mariner’s side. His words might have struck a chord, if not for an immense sound echoing across the zoo, one of wood cracking against stone. It lasted only a few seconds and all eyes searched the surrounding structures, looking for the building that must have crumbled, for it sounded like wooden planks tumbling and splitting.
Finally the strange noise died away and was replaced by even greater monkey chatter.
Diane, eager to regain the focus of the crowd, clapped her hands. “Collect wood for a fire, justice must be done.”
“Justice? What justice is this? At least hold us until his story can be checked? Send a ship to Sighisoara, find the truth in his words! It happens, people turn Mindless, you don’t need to judge now!”
Diane shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it must be done right away. I have sensed a chance to challenge Déjà vu whilst the demon-servants burn. It’s what’s happened before. It’s what’ll happen again.”
The two men were forced to the ground, whilst a bonfire was hastily constructed. Somewhere behind, amongst the crowd they could hear Grace crying.
“For God’s sake, don’t let her see this!” McConnell begged. “She’s just a child!” But his pleas were ignored; all were duty-bound to bear witness to Diane’s justice.
It didn’t take long for the pyre to be laid out, large enough for two men spread across. Gasoline was splashed across, the monks careful to keep their torches a safe distance.
“Bind their hands!”
Whilst their arms were pulled behind their backs and ropes wrapped around their wrists, McConnell gave a last ditch attempt to convince the crowd.
“Don’t you understand? We’re not agents of a demon! Pryce turned Mindless!”
But Diane had grown impatient to their protests. “Burn the murderers!” she snarled, a faint laugh gracing her lips. “There’s no such thing as Mindless!”
And it was then that the Mindless attacked.
30. EXODUS
SCREAMS FROM THE OUTER FRINGES of the crowd brought a halt to the burning. Confused, the congregation remained still, hoping the chilling sound was the normal day-to-day business of challenging déjà vu. Only when strange figures launched themselves into the light, clawing and biting those closest, did panic truly spread.
An elderly monk stood aside whilst he allowed those younger than he to construct the pyre, suddenly found himself seized from behind. The creature sank teeth into his neck and plunged fingers deep into his eye sockets, swivelling them around as a child would probe their nose. He battered weakly at his attacker whilst a wet sticky goo ran down his cheeks.
Another, not far from the old man, saw a Mindless coming, but was so confused by the situation all she could do was ask, “Who are you?” before the creature smashed her head with a rock. Her body collapsed to the floor while it stood above her, repeatedly bringing its primitive weapon down upon her skull.
The man who’d been keeping a close hold of the Mariner bolted, following the lead of his associates. They fled in all directions, only to find that the Mindless were all about them. Rather than an organised attack, it was an infestation.
Diane, until moments before so full of fire and fury, now seemed lost and timid. “What’s happening? Who are they?” Her eyes widened as she backed away from the Mariner and McConnell. “Did you summon them?”
“Of course we didn’t, you stupid bitch!” McConnell snapped as his head weaved in panic between her and the oncoming fiends. “Untie us!”
But Diane was already gone, retreating back along the bridge to the small platform in the middle of the pool as if the ring of water would form a protective barrier.
“Come back! Those fucking dolphins won’t help you!” McConnell gave a yell as he felt hands at his back. They turned out to be Grace pulling at the ropes. “Oh thank you God! Be quick girl, be quick!”
After pulling his binds loose, Grace moved to the Mariner, though the rope around him proved tighter. McConnell grabbed the thickest stick he could find from the pyre and stood protectively behind the girl.
“Faster! Faster!”
The Mariner watched helplessly as a Mindless looked up from a corpse, roving eyes suddenly fixing upon him with mad intensity. The fiend had once been a young man, probably no more than seventeen; now he were a beast, acting on a fury that consumed its all.
“Arthur,” whispered McConnell. “Are you armed?”
“No, I dropped my gun at the beach.”
“Fuck.”
And the creature began to charge.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” Grace was muttering under her breath as she moved to free the Mariner’s hands.
The Mindless was close now and McConnell strode out as if to bat a baseball. He tensed, a peaceful man trying to prepare for violence, nervous, toying. But as it came close he swung true, the stick connecting with the side of the Mindless’ head, twirling it around and dropping. There it howled, gripping its temple, trying to lift itself, yet failing to maintain any balance. It reminded the reverend of a dying fly, wings useless, yet still desperate to take flight.
“Got it!” Grace cried in triumph, the thick ropes falling to their captor’s knees. The Mariner, free from bondage, returned to his feet.
“Reverend, grab me one of those sticks, we need to get moving!” McConnell didn’t respond. “Reverend?”
“He’s just a boy,” he muttered, looking at the thrashing Mindless on the floor. “No more than a child.”
“McConnell, for fuck sake!” The Mariner ran past the stunned reverend and grabbed a weapon for himself. “We need to get out of here, now!”
“Where did they come from?” Grace asked though tears as she clutched McConnell’s waist. Her touch snapped him from his trance even though he had no answer to give.
All about them were scenes of chaos. Figures dashed to and fro in the flickering hell. Torches dropped, some extinguished whilst others creating isolated fires, eager to cooperate and grow strong.
“Grab one of those,” the Mariner commanded, pointing Grace towards a discarded torch, still burning brightly. “Lead the way, and if one gets close, aim for the face.”
Nervously, the three began to inch away from the pool, back the way the Mariner had been dragged. McConnell and the Mariner stood on either side of Grace, trying to look in every direction at once.
“Don’t leave me!”
The voice sounded shrill and young. It was Diane. She stood on her throne, surrounded by the circle of water and then an even greater circle of carnage, cutting a lonely silhouette. A Mindless heard her cry, its eyes immediately searching for she who made it. It focused upon her and, without a flinch, dropped into the pool, haphazardly swimming to reach her tiny island.
The Mariner felt he should say something, some final word of comfort or condemnation, but thought better. Best to use her as a distraction for their own escape. He put his hand to Grace’s back, and shepherded her away.
As they passed between trees and lost sight of the clearing, Diane began to scream.
Their journey through the zoo was slow, yet that careful inching seemed to cloak them with near invisibility. Mindless pursued monks, each running as erratically as the other, injuring themselves in the pitch black night. Sometimes they would pass by, just yards from where they cowed behind their improvised weapons, only to run on without giving them a sideward glance. In so much confusion, the trio slipped quietly away.