Else Broome had time for one piercing scream. .
It was heard by the Crusader Captain Leon Evans as he made his nightly rounds. The sound chilled him.
A figure moved from the shadows and Leon spun, his gun flashing into his hand.
'It's only me, sir,' said Samuel McAdam, stepping out to join him. 'Did you hear it?'
'Damn right. It came from West Street.'
'You want me to come with you?'
Leon smiled and clapped the boy on the shoulder. 'You're not a Crusader yet, Sam. Wait until you get paid for it.' Holstering his pistol, he moved along the street. A silver shape ran at him from the shadows, but Leon was moving past the alleyway and failed to see it. Samuel blinked. He couldn't believe his eyes.
No Wolver could possibly be that big!
'Captain!' he shouted, at the same time dragging out his pistol. His first shot missed the beast. But Leon Evans swung, drew and fired in one smooth motion. Samuel saw the beast stagger, its head snapping back as blood sprayed from a cut to the scalp. Samuel fired again. Dust kicked up from the beast's hide, just above the hip, and blood pumped from the wound. Leon Evans stepped in close and triggered two shots into the Devourer's chest. With a terrible howl it sank to its haunches.
Movement came from the far end of the street and screaming began in several of the houses to Samuel's right. High above a window smashed and a man's body hurtled down, smashing through the slanting wooden roof that protected the sidewalk. He landed head-first. Leon ran to the body, Samuel following.
It was Ezra Feard, his chest ripped open.
People came running from their homes, converging at the centre of the main street. A huge beast climbed from Ezra Feard's window and leapt down among them. Samuel saw a woman dragged screaming to the ground. A man ran to her aid but talons ripped into his chest. Panic swept through the crowd and they began to run. From the far end of the street came a score more of the creatures, their howls echoing above the screams of the crowd.
'Get to the Crusader building!' yelled Leon Evans, trying to make himself heard above the sounds of terror that rent the night. Pistol in hand, Samuel forced his way through the crowd, trying to reach the law officer. The Crusader Captain was standing his ground with arm extended, coolly firing at the charging beasts. The hammer clicked down on an empty chamber, Leon Evans broke open the pistol and began to reload, but a beast bore down on him and leapt. Samuel was some yards back. He fired — and missed.
Talons ripped into Leon Evans' cheek, tearing his face away. The Crusader Captain fell back, dropping his pistol. As the creature leapt again, the mortally wounded man drew a hunting-knife and lunged out, but the blade did not even pierce the hide. Talons tore into his body and he fell in a spray of blood.
Samuel backed away, trembling, then turned and ran for his life.
Many people were crowding into the stone-built Crusader building, while others continued to run along the main street. As a horse came bolting from a side street Sam jumped at it, grabbing the mane, trying to vault to the animal's bare back. He missed and was dragged for some thirty yards before falling to the dust. Scrambling up, he gazed around him. A huge Wolver was running at him. When Samuel's hand swept down to his holster… it was empty.
A shotgun blast came from the right and above. Hit full in the chest the creature staggered back, letting out a bellow of pain.
Samuel glanced up to see the youngster Wallace Nash leaning out of a window above him. 'Better get in here, Sam!' shouted Wallace. Samuel ran up the three short steps to the main door and swiftly moved inside. Out on the street the wounded beast bounded forward to hurl itself at the door, which broke into two pieces as it burst open. Samuel fled for the stairs, taking them two at a time, the beast just behind him. Wallace Nash appeared at the top. 'Drop, Sam!' shouted thp youngster.
Samuel threw himself down as the shotgun blasted, and he heard the body of the beast tumbling back behind him. Scrambling up, he joined the red-headed youngster at the top of the stairs. He did not know Wallace well, and remembered the boy was a sprinter who had once outrun Edric Scayse's racing horse, Rimfire.
'Thanks, Wallace,' he said, as the youngster thumbed two shells into the double-barrelled gun.
'We got to get out of here,' said Wallace. This old bird gun ain't going to hold them, that's for damn sure.
Where's your pistol?' he asked, glancing down at the empty scabbard.
Samuel was embarrassed. 'Dropped it out on the street. I panicked.' Wallace nodded, then reached into his belt to pull clear an old, single-action Hellborn pistol.
Fresh screaming erupted from the street and the two young men ran through to the upper front room and looked out of the window. A young woman carrying a baby was hammering on the door of the Crusader building, but the people inside were too frightened to let her in.
A beast loped towards her.
'Over here!' shouted Samuel. The woman spun, and Samuel could see her gauging the distance against the speed of the Wolver. She would never make it…
But she tried.
Wallace levelled the shotgun and let fly with both barrels, taking the beast high in the shoulder and spinning it. Regaining its balance, it lurched after the woman. Samuel pushed open the window and climbed out. To the eternal regret of his mother, Beth, he had never been blessed with great courage or stamina. Samuel believed he had failed her in almost everything. Taking a deep breath he jumped, landing heavily and twisting his ankle. The woman was almost at the steps — the beast just behind her — as Samuel moved left and fired, his first bullet smashing into the creature's open mouth. His second took it in the throat and blood sprayed from the exit wound. Still it came on.
In that instant Samuel McAdam knew he was going to die, and an icy calm settled on him.
The woman ran by him without a glance, her baby screaming. Other beasts were gathering now. The first creature loomed above Samuel and he fired twice more, straight into the heart. The Wolver slumped -
then its taloned hand slashed out.
'Get back, Sam!' he heard Wallace shout. The beast fell dead. Something hot and sticky was drenching Sam's shirt. He glanced down. It was blood, gushing from a gaping wound in his throat.
Samuel fell to his knees, all strength seeping from him. Toppling sideways, his face struck the hard-packed dirt of the street. There was no pain. 'I'm dying,' he thought dispassionately. 'This is it.' A great weariness settled over him, and an old nursery prayer drifted into his mind. Samuel tried to say it, but there was no time.
This was the day that Dr Julian Meredith had long dreaded. Isis lay in the wagon, unconscious, her pulse weak and fluttering erratically, her eyelids tinged with blue, her cheeks sunken. With hindsight he knew this day had been coming for several weeks. Her energy was low, and it was becoming an effort even to talk.
Meredith sat by the bedside as Jeremiah drove the wagon. How long, he wondered, before the end?
Leaning forward, he kissed her cold brow. His eyes misted and a warm tear splashed to the pale cheek below him. When the wagon creaked to a stop, Meredith rose and opened the rear door, climbing down to the ground. Jeremiah looped the reins around the brake handle and joined him.
'Is she any better?' asked the old man.
Meredith shook his head. 'I think it will be tonight.'
'Oh dear,' whispered Jeremiah. 'She's such a sweet lass. There's no justice, is there, Doctor?'
'Not in cases like hers,' Meredith agreed.
Jeremiah built a fire and carried two chairs down from the wagon. 'I still don't understand what's killing her,' he said. 'Cancer I can understand, or a weak heart. Not this.'
'It's very rare,' explained Meredith. 'In the old world it used to be called Addison's Disease. We all have a defence system inside our bodies, which can isolate germs and destroy them. In the case of Isis the system malfunctioned and.began to turn on itself, destroying the adrenal glands among others.'