As the smoke cleared, Jack and Meghan rose, and Dale picked Sian up. She was starting to stir a little, thankfully, even tried to smile when she opened her eyes and saw him. He smiled back, brushing hair out of her eyes.
"Come on," Jack said, "that's enough of all that." But then he realised he was still holding onto Meghan, and let go. He coughed. "We'd better check what's happening in the rest of this place. It ain't over yet, kid."
But, compared with what they'd just gone through - what he, Sian and Meghan had been
going
through for a while - how could the battles raging upstairs be any worse?
Things were about to get much worse.
Robert thought that as Mary freed him from the ropes at his wrists. Oh, his legs were scorched in places, but it could have been so much worse. And they'd had some good fortune: take the guy who'd confronted the Widow, who was now standing like a statue, quite clearly dead from the knife wound she'd inflicted on him. Robert felt sure he recognised him, had seen the man somewhere, but couldn't place him Why had he done it? They'd probably never know, but they
had
been lucky. That luck, though, was about to run out. Apart from the veritable army about to knock down the door, Robert still had his wife - his
real
wife - to face. And apologise to. "Mary, listen-"
"Later," she told him.
"But..."
She placed a finger to his lips, helping to hold him up at the same time. "I know what you were doing," Mary told him. "Buying us time. Trying to fool her. You weren't the only one acting back there, you know. Oh, I didn't want to listen at first, but then someone close forced me to."
He was about to ask what she meant when she kissed him, long and hard on the lips. It was as she was doing so that the first of the explosions went off. "Did the earth move for you?" she asked.
"Always."
They kissed again, the explosions and gunfire outside a million miles away. But when they broke off, Robert frowned. "Can you smell-"
"Burning!" Mary screamed, pushing Robert away. Coming at them was a flaming figure, risen from the bonfire like some kind of phoenix. The Widow rushed at them, flailing her hands, still wielding the sacrificial dagger that meant so much to her. For a moment Robert thought that the words she'd been uttering as he dragged her back onto the flames might have worked; that instead of burning her alive, they'd somehow made her more powerful. But if it was black magic keeping her alive, it didn't last for long. She dropped to the ground after failing in her attempt to either share the fire with the couple, or stab them.
As she fell she let go of the dagger and Mary promptly kicked it away, out of reach. The flames went out unusually quickly, leaving her body blackened and crisp. Still the Widow struggled to rise, getting up on her hands and knees. Robert thought then how much she resembled the thing he'd seen in his dream: the spider that was her namesake.
She toppled over onto her back, her breathing shallow. Only her eyes and her teeth now shone white. Though it was clearly agony for her to do so, the Widow gestured for Robert to come closer. He remained where he was, and she whispered something inaudible.
Robert took a step nearer.
"Robert,
no!"
"She's trying to speak," he told Mary.
"All right, just be careful. She's dangerous."
There was a laugh from the Widow at this, which hurt her even more judging from the moan she let out afterwards. Robert leaned in, close enough to hear but not near enough to be grabbed if she decided to pull a stunt.
"W-Won't hurt yer..." breathed the Widow. "Just wanted to tell yer, we will meet agin...Robert, ma Hooded Man. I'll see yer agin..."
Robert shook his head. It was highly doubtful, but then hadn't he seen De Falaise and The Tsar again after their deaths? After he'd taken their lives?
"It's... it's fitting..." she told him. "What I deserved... but it is not the end...You'll get yer magic back, Robert... This I promise... And we... we
will
see each other again." She reached up now, too quickly for him to pull back. She grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. Mary made a move, but he held up his other hand.
The Widow smiled, eyes closing. "Tae bad." she whispered, It could have been... somethin' quite special." Then she collapsed back to the ground.
Robert looked at the thing in his hand: a blackened card, but he could still make out the picture of
The Emperor
on its surface. He shook his head.
Mary said nothing. She just crouched down on the other side of the Widow, wrapped her fingers in the edge of her top and pulled off the golden ring on the third finger of the woman's left hand. "Mine, I believe."
They'd been so caught up in the Widow's final moments that they hadn't noticed the escalating gunfire and explosions outside. But the banging on the door continued nonetheless, those loyal to the Widow still trying to get in.
Robert barely had time to stand when the door finally caved and in rushed several raiders. Mary helped him to his feet, not knowing what either of them could do. But then they saw the guards were lowering their weapons. "Robert? Mary?"
He squinted, trying to see beyond the goggles and masks. One pulled off his headgear to reveal a face he recognised. "Saxton!" It was one of their Rangers.
The others came inside and Robert saw there were more dressed like the Widow's men, but bringing up the rear and shouting for them to let him past was a voice he recognised all too well. "Come on, move aside. Let the dog see the..." Bill paused when he saw Robert. "Well, I didn't really want to see
that
much!" he exclaimed, nodding at his friend's nakedness. Mary stood in front of her husband, at least until she could find something to cover him with.
"Bill, you came for us," said Robert, giving him a weary smile.
"Aye lad, in the Black Shark. Didn't ye hear me?" Bill laughed but then caught the chastising glare Robert was giving him. "Ahem, but look who I found in the Widow's dungeons," the ex-farmer said, changing the subject. He stepped back to reveal Azhar, Annie Reid and some of the other Rangers from Robert's original strike force.
Robert's smile widened. "What's happening outside now?"
"The battle's still going on, but we're holding our own, with the help of the traders I brought with us. Won't take long to settle now we're all back together again. It's the Widow we're really after, mind. Fix her and you fix the probl-" Bill suddenly stopped, as if only now seeing the blackened thing between them on the ground. "What's that?"
"Consider the problem fixed," Mary told him, putting her wedding ring back on now that it had cooled.
Chapter Eighteen
She'd been on the move for hours. Her legs ached, her feet had blisters, but she marched on. She didn't need the torch anymore, because the sun had started to rise.
Nearly there
, she kept telling herself.
Reach the outskirts and you'll be spotted. They'll take you to the castle and you can explain everything. You can do your bit.
Walking through the woodland at night had been the hardest part - all those strange sounds and movements in the undergrowth. After finding the dirt track leading to the main road, it was just a matter of following the map to the city. It reminded her a little of the walks her parents would insist on taking when she was younger, out every weekend into the country, boots and backpacks on, striding out over hill and dale. If nothing else, that had prepared her for a hike like this. And she'd kept herself relatively fit during her adult years, going to the gym three nights a week, keeping her alcohol consumption down. Yeah, only because you never used to go out anywhere at the weekend; even the walks with your folks were better than the marathon weepie sessions with a chick flick and a box of Kleenex.
Approaching thirty and still a virgin, stuck in a dead-end job as a receptionist with a boss she hated, fancying male employees but never having the courage to ask any of them out. Karen Shipley, hopeless romantic with no-one to lavish her affections on. It had taken most of the population of the planet being wiped out before she stood even the remotest chance with a guy.
Karen hadn't really wept for anyone during those early stages of the virus, because she didn't have anyone she loved as such - her parents having died in a car accident long before that. Perhaps they'd been the lucky ones? Neville from Human Resources didn't count because he was creepy, and she'd only snogged him under the mistletoe that Christmas because she had given in to the booze at the office party. It had taken her so long to stop him from trailing her around the place that she was almost grateful for the virus... No, that was terrible. Poor Neville. Poor
everyone
. She didn't like to think the only reason it had happened was so she could actually get herself a man.
Yet it was looking like that might be a happy by-product. The one ray of sunshine in this whole, stinking mess. It wasn't her fault the virus killed all those people who didn't have O-Neg blood like hers. The more she thought about it, the more it made a kind of sense; it was the duty of those left behind to hook up and try and repopulate the planet, wasn't it? Karen knew exactly who she wanted to start her own particular repopulation with, as well.
She'd known from the minute she set foot in the village, after being picked up by a scout party from New Hope. Karen had convinced them she had skills they'd find useful - typing counted, right? By the time they discovered she didn't have any specialisms to offer, she'd already made herself indispensable fetching and carrying, working hard on whatever needed to be done. Like the wall and the tunnel, for example; both his ideas. The man she planned to marry someday: Darryl.
Karen had spotted him as the jeep drew up, younger than her definitely, but extremely hot - especially with his shirt round his waist like that, sweat covering his muscles. He'd noticed the jeep arriving, breaking off from his labours working on the first few sections of the wall, and trotted across to greet the new arrivals. As usual, she'd made a complete arse of herself and tripped over her words. But she'd smiled at him and he'd thrown her one of his casual smiles back. The kind of smile she'd walk a million miles - not just this piddling distance - for.
That's why you're doing this
, she reminded herself every time she felt her feet hurting, or her legs aching.
For Darryl.
Because he'd volunteered again to do this, but you wouldn't let him. And to keep him safe. To fetch help, making sure those German people didn't get to him and kill him.
It had been Gwen who'd come up with the notion, who'd wanted to go herself - trusting only Darryl to look after her son, Clive Jr. Karen didn't care much for the bond between Gwen and Darryl, but they had known each other a long time. Plus which, Karen didn't see her as too much of a threat because she was always banging on about that dead father of her child, the guy who'd founded Hope and got himself killed for his trouble. Gwen wanted to slip out again using the tunnel, this time to fetch help from Nottingham Castle even though there was some kind of stupid feud going on between her and the new Robin Hood. "They'll help once I've explained," Gwen had assured everyone. "It's what they do. It's all they do." But Darryl had played the hero again, putting himself forward.
"You can't, Gwen. We need you here," Darryl had said. "
I
need you."
Karen winced inwardly at that one, but chose to read it as he needed her leadership skills. Dammit, even after the hug when he climbed back up through that hole, he still didn't seem to get it. Which was why when Darryl said that he was going instead, Karen had piped up, volunteering herself.
He'd looked at her oddly, then, like he was seeing her for the first time. "You?"
"Yes," she said. "Why not? I'm a lot more resourceful than I look, matey. I'm quick and used to walking long distances, have been since I was a kid." The fact she hadn't walked more than a couple of miles in one go during the past ten years was irrelevant.
Darryl smiled, but wasn't there a tinge of concern there too? Did he realise, just a little bit, that she was doing it for
him
? Yes, Karen thought that he did. "If you're sure, then?"
Karen nodded emphatically. "But when I get back, I'll expect another hug," she told him. Probably the boldest thing she'd said or done in her life; even bolder than Neville, and she'd been drunk then.
Darryl had smiled again, a little awkwardly, but she'd take it. He'd also exchanged glances with Gwen, probably to see whether she was okay with Karen taking this on. Gwen had looked concerned as well, but shrugged. "If you're sure that's what you want. Thanks, Karen."
So she'd set off, armed with a pistol, carrying a map and torch. Gwen had issued orders and instructions, especially about not being seen as she emerged from the tunnel on the other side of the wall. Karen had nodded, not really taking any of it in; she was too busy watching Darryl in the crowd of people who'd come to see her off. "But most of all, hurry," Gwen said. "We don't know how much longer we can hold them off now Tanek's here. Not to mention the fact that Graham and Andy aren't getting any better." Andy had been badly injured by Tanek's crossbows on the last attack, and now resided with Graham in the surgery. Both were growing weaker by the hour. Karen had nodded, taking at least that much in.