The Tower A Novel (Sanctus)

34





Gabriel woke to haunted moans echoing off stone walls. He opened his eyes and saw a vaulted ceiling high above him, a host of

frozen angels bound to the stone, faces fixed in sorrow, as if in lament for what they saw below.

He twisted his head to the side and saw rows of beds stretching away to the nave of a church. They were filled with the writhing

figures of men and women, straining against thick canvas bands that bound them, their skin a riot of boils that burst under the

stress of their contortions. Doctors in contamination suits moved between the beds, tending to the worst cases by giving them

shots that instantly calmed them. On the far wall he saw images of demons pulling tongues from the damned and devils boiling

others in vats of oil and realized where he was. It was the Public Church in the Old Town of Ruin, close to the base of the

Citadel. He had made it, but too late. The church was now a howling sick bay full of the infected.

The disease was spreading.

Gabriel gritted his teeth as a wave of fever rolled over him followed by an excruciating urge to scratch violently at his skin,

but he was bound to his bed like the others so he could not. He heard footsteps approaching across the stone floor and closed his

eyes, quelling the urge to writhe against his bindings and feel the ecstasy of relief from the growing itch. He felt hot, was

getting hotter, and sweat tickled down his burning skin making it worse.

The footsteps stopped by his bed and he battled hard just to remain still. He didn’t want to be knocked out with a dose of strong

sedative. He needed to think and for that he needed to be conscious, no matter how agonizing it might be.

‘You’ve looked better.’ The voice took him by surprise. He recognized it. ‘Don’t worry,’ the voice came again. ‘I haven’t

told anyone who you are. You still have a number of serious outstanding warrants on your head and to be perfectly frank I just can

’t face the paperwork.’

‘Arkadian!’ Gabriel opened his eyes to a figure in a complete HazMat suit, one arm in a sling and a familiar face smiling behind

a plastic visor.

‘I heard some lunatic had ridden in here on a horse,’ Arkadian’s voice was muffled behind layers of material that kept him

isolated from the infected air. ‘How you feeling, better than you look, I hope?’

‘I feel like I’m dying. I probably am dying.’

‘Nonsense. You’re the picture of health compared to some of these people.’ He glanced up and across the huge empty space of the

church. ‘Most of them have been driven insane by this thing. They have to be heavily sedated just to stop them howling and

weeping and tearing at their own flesh.’

Gabriel shuddered and clenched every muscle as a new prickling blossomed and spread inside him. He could see how easy it would be

to give in and be driven mad by this unbearable sensation. ‘How many cases?’ he managed, between gritted teeth.

‘Twenty-eight confirmed so far, eighty-four more being held in quarantine. They’re all here in the Old Town too. So far it’s

only adults, children seem to have some kind of immunity and everyone’s hoping to God it stays that way.’

‘How many dead?’

Arkadian hesitated. He watched Gabriel snatching shallow breaths and guessed he was mindful of attracting the attention of the

doctors. ‘How many?’ Gabriel repeated once the spasms had eased.

‘Nine.’

‘When was the first?’

‘Two days ago, a waiter working at his aunt’s café on the embankment. She was the next to die.’

Gabriel closed his eyes. He thought back to the two figures with breathing masks he had seen as he approached the Old Town wall;

the paper suits and HazMat signs. If they had reacted fast enough to put a quarantine in place and isolate the infected then

perhaps it had been contained. Maybe he wasn’t too late.

‘Have all the people infected worked close to the Citadel?’

‘Yes – all except you. You have been the cause of much excitement, and also concern. Concern because you’re the only one with

the Lamentation who hasn’t originated inside these walls, excitement because it seems to have affected you differently. Most

people are driven incoherent by it and die within forty-eight hours of the main symptoms appearing. But you can still talk. How

long have you had it now?’

‘I don’t know. Days.’

‘More than two?’

‘Five, I think.’

Arkadian’s eyes misted a little behind the visor as he imagined five days of this kind of suffering. ‘Why did you come back?’

Gabriel shivered, freezing again despite his burning skin. ‘To protect Liv. I wanted to bring it back where it came from. I

wanted to return it to the Citadel.’

‘Well – you have done.’

Gabriel shook his head. ‘Not quite.’

Arkadian looked on until Gabriel had ridden out another spasm. ‘Listen,’ he said, leaning closer. ‘I’m going to have to let

the doctors know you’re awake. They need to ask you some questions and run more tests. Right now you’re the best chance they

have of finding an antidote to this thing.’

‘OK. Just don’t tell them who I am.’

Arkadian managed a smile. ‘You take me for a fool? You’ll be no good to anyone if I have to throw you in jail.’

‘But I want you to do something for me first. Send a message to the Citadel. Try and persuade them to open their doors and allow

the sick inside.’

Arkadian stared down at him as though he had genuinely lost his mind. ‘They’re not going to do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s the Citadel, they don’t let anyone inside.’

‘Things change. This infection started in there, it must be decimating the population of the mountain. They probably need medical

help more than anyone. Tell them doctors will come too, along with all the medical equipment they need to study this thing and try

and find a cure. It’s airborne. That’s how I got it. I breathed it in when I was there. And all these people here worked on the

embankment closest to the mountain, that’s why they got it. So we need to return it to where it started and keep it contained.

Just imagine if this thing spread.’

A sudden noise made Arkadian look up. A woman was fitting and bucking so hard against her bed it started to shift and move across

the floor. Three suited medics converged, obscuring her from view. One of them struggled to push the bed back into place while the

others fought with the woman who was now howling like a banshee. They were trying to sedate her but she was thrashing so hard they

couldn’t get the needle in her arm. The disturbance started to spread and others, tied and bound in the surrounding beds, began

to rouse from their chemical slumbers. Then, as quickly as it had started, the thrashing stopped. The woman gave one last howl

that sounded like the life was being physically torn from her, then was still.

The three medics stood for a moment, staring down at the body. Then one drifted away to calm another patient, and so did another,

leaving only one remaining at her bedside, loosening and unwrapping the tight canvas bindings that were no longer needed.

‘Ten,’ Gabriel said.

Arkadian looked down at him and nodded. ‘Who shall I contact in the Citadel?’

Gabriel closed his eyes, exhausted from the sheer effort of keeping it all together. ‘A monk called Brother Athanasius. He helped

me get inside the last time. He is the one who will help us again.’ He opened his bloodshot eyes and stared up at Arkadian.

‘Always assuming he’s still alive.’