Lambert collapsed on the wet grass, finally aware of pain in his hands and head. Every muscle in his body ached and, even with Debbie supporting him, he could hardly make it to the car. She helped him in and then went and hauled back one of the heavy gates at the cemetery entrance.
The engine spluttered as she started the car, and for a second, she wondered if it would move. Its wheels spun only for a second before catching and she guided it out of the cemetery.
Beside her, Lambert was barely conscious. He was covered in blood, his own and that of Mathias. The stench in the car was unbearable and Debbie wound the window down, ignoring the rain which spattered her. She looked across at him every few seconds, the tears filling her eyes.
He smiled weakly and reached for her knee with a blood-stained hand.
'Now it is over,' he croaked, the smile still on his lips.
When she looked back again, he'd passed out.
Time passed slowly in Medworth and it was nearly two years before the town finally returned to something like normality. It grew in size, its small industries expanding and attracting new inhabitants, becoming a part of the progress which it had always resisted.
Those who moved there never knew anything about what had happened. Nothing had been printed in any papers about it. The deaths were never explained. Indeed, how could they be?
Lambert was promoted. He and Debbie moved further North where he took over command of a force three times the size of the one in Medworth. Once a month they returned to the town to visit the cemetery, to plant fresh flowers on Mike's grave. Lambert had finally found the peace within himself which he had always sought.
The church was never rebuilt. It remained a roofless shell, home only to those animals who would enter it. Moss and lichens invaded it, and, some said that there were rats as big as cats in there. Visitors to the cemetery gave it cursory glances as they passed by.
As time passed, it was forgotten.
EPILOGUE
The boy was frightened. Not only of the church but of what his mother would say when he got home. He looked at his watch and saw that it was approaching eleven p.m. God, she'd skin him alive when he got in. She'd warned him before about hanging around with those Kelly boys. They were always in trouble with the law, she'd told him. The boy knew she was right but he also knew that if he ducked out of this prank, he'd be a laughing stock at school next day. That fear overshadowed anything his mother would say. So now, he stood in the ruined church staring around him, his body coated in a light film of perspiration. But this was part of the initiation ceremony. The Kelly brothers had told him so. Enter the church and bring something out to prove that you've been in there. All the other gang members had done it at one time or another.
The boy was sixteen, his imagination vivid. He had heard the stories of the giant rats nesting in the ruins and that thought was strong in his mind as he rooted amongst the' rubble, shining his torch before him as he tried to find a likely prize.
The beam alighted on something golden lying at his feet. He bent to pick it up.
It looked like a medallion of some sort and there were funny signs on it. This would do perfectly. The boy snatched it up, anxious to be out of the church. It was only as he lifted it that he felt the heat.
It intensified until he dropped the gold circlet. He rubbed his palm against the seat of his dirty jeans and picked it up again, more cautiously this time. No trouble. No heat. He dropped it into his pocket and ran out.
The Kelly brothers accepted him as a member of the gang and that pleased the boy. He kept the medallion in his pocket, careful to hide it from his mother when he finally did get home. She shouted at him just as he'd expected and so did his father. The boy ignored them and went to bed.
He sat up for a long time looking at the medallion, but finally he switched off his bedside lamp, surprised at how much the light hurt his eyes.
Besides, he had a terrible headache.