Heathen/Nemesis

Seventy-Nine

The stench was appalling.

Donna noticed it as soon as Dashwood and Parsons entered the chamber. The unmistakable rank odour of death.

‘You have something which belongs to us,’ Dashwood said, jabbing a finger towards the book she held.

‘Your husband stole it from us,’ Parsons added.

‘Return it.’

Donna swallowed hard, her stomach somersaulting as she inhaled the rancid stench that emanated from the two men.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, seeing the pallid skin that hung in festering coils from their faces. Dashwood’s forehead was dotted with boils, one of which had recently burst. Thick pus seeped down towards his eyebrow.

‘Friends of your husbands,’ Dashwood told her, smiling, lips sliding back to reveal blackened teeth. ‘Now give me the book.’ The smile faded to be replaced by a look of anger. He held out a hand.

Donna kept a tight grip on the Grimoire.

‘I’ll blow her fucking head all over the wall,’ hissed Farrell, pushing the barrel of the .45 forcefully against Julie’s temple. ‘Now give him the book.’

‘Fair exchange, Mrs Ward,’ Dashwood said. ‘You have something we want. We have something you want. Give me the Grimoire.’

‘If I do you’ll kill us both,’ Donna said, trying to swallow.

‘And if you don’t, Farrell will shoot you. Then we’ll take it,’ Dashwood told her.

‘Fair exchange. Her life for the Grimoire,’ Parsons added, nodding towards Julie.

‘Why does it mean so much to you?’ Donna asked, taking a step backwards, the book in her arms.

Dashwood advanced a pace, his eyes fixed on the Grimoire.

‘Give it to me,’ he rasped. She heard the anger in his voice but there was something else there, too.

Fear?

‘Give him the book or I swear I’ll kill her,’ Farrell said, looking first at Donna, then at Dashwood.

Donna moved back another step.

‘Tell me why it’s so important,’ she demanded, opening it at the first page, smelling the musty odour that rose from the parchment-like paper. She closed her hand on the top sheet.

‘Don’t damage it,’ shouted Dashwood. Now Donna was sure it was fear she heard in his voice. He moved closer to her but she merely held her ground, one hand poised to rip the page free. ‘Don’t damage the book,’ Dashwood repeated.

‘You can both go, just don’t damage the book.’

‘Let her go, or I’ll rip this page out and all the others,’ Donna said defiantly, looking at Farrell.

He kept his grip on Julie, the gun still pressed to her temple.

‘Shoot her,’ Parsons snapped.

Dashwood shot up a hand.

‘No,’ he hissed.

‘I’ll destroy the book,’ Donna threatened. ‘Let her go.’

‘You couldn’t rip up a dozen pages before I killed you both,’ Farrell said, not impressed by her show of bravado.

‘Let her go,’ snarled Dashwood, glaring at Farrell.

He hesitated a moment then released his grip on Julie, pushing her away from him. She stumbled and fell to her knees, one hand massaging her bruised throat.

‘Drop the gun,’ Donna said.

Farrell did as he was told.

‘Now back off, all of you,’ she continued, moving across to her sister, the Grimoire still held in her hands.

Dashwood didn’t move but his rheumy eyes followed the book.

Farrell, Ryker and Kellerman, still clutching his knee and the wound just below it, moved out of the chamber, leaving the two women to face Parsons and Dashwood. The stench seemed to grow in intensity.

‘We made a bargain,’ said Dashwood. ‘Give me the book.’

Donna glanced quickly to one side and saw the .45 that Farrell had dropped. It was a couple of feet to her right.

‘Give me the book and I’ll tell you why it’s so important to us. You said you wanted to know.’

She edged closer to the automatic.

Julie was leaning back against the wall, her head spinning, her eyes filled with tears of pain and fear.

‘A bargain, Mrs Ward,’ Dashwood continued.

Donna dropped to one knee, snatched up the .45 and then straightened up with the barrel pointed at Dashwood.

He chuckled.

The sound echoed around the chamber. Donna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

‘Take the fucking thing,’ she hissed and hurled it at Dashwood.

He grabbed it and pulled it close to his chest, his eyes blazing.

Donna raised the .45 until it was level with his head and steadied herself to fire.

‘Stay back,’ she said, teeth gritted, her finger resting on the trigger.

‘I have what I want now,’ Dashwood told her, moving towards the exit.

‘They’ll kill us,’ Julie croaked.

‘No, not us,’ Dashwood smiled. ‘We will not touch you.’

Donna frowned.

What the hell did he mean?

She had the sights directly over Dashwood’s forehead; all she had to do was tighten her finger and she’d spread his brains all around the chamber.

Perhaps she should.

He was still hugging the book to him as if it were a nursing child.

‘Your husband was inquisitive, too,’ he said, smiling, showing his array of blackened teeth. ‘Perhaps you’re like him. You want to know about the Grimoire?’

She nodded slowly.

‘Then I’ll tell you.’