Coldbrook (Hammer)(130)

And then the man’s sad expression as he’d shot him in the chest.

My heart! Jonah thought, and though he still felt the familiar thuds of heartbeats and heard the whisper of blood through his ears, they seemed different. Strained – like a car that had burned off all its oil and was grinding its engine parts.

‘What have you done?’ he said.

‘I’ve made a trade,’ Drake said. He sighed and leaned back from where Jonah lay on the floor. He was looking him in the eye at last.

‘A trade?’ Jonah asked.

‘I’m sorry, Jonah. I’ve taken hope from you and given it to everyone else.’

‘And how have you done that?’

‘Don’t you know yet? Haven’t you worked out the only way?’ Drake was sweating, tense.

‘You’ve turned me into a weapon,’ Jonah said, beginning to understand.

‘I’ve been waiting for someone like you for years, Jonah! A final hope. I believe the Inquisitor will take you back to its own Earth to initiate you into its ways.’

Jonah touched his chest. ‘And when I’m there, I release the plague that you’ve implanted in me.’

‘You’ve seen it flitting in and out, ghostlike. I think what they do is part casting, part breach, but they travel with impunity and without fear of infection. To beat them, we have to get past that. Take the fight to their world.’

‘It won’t know what you’re doing?’

‘It’s not all-seeing, Jonah. Not everywhere all the time,’

‘You don’t know any of this for sure.’

Drake shrugged. ‘Isn’t all science a matter of best guess?’

‘No,’ Jonah said. ‘But . . . that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.’ He tried to sit up, but Drake laid a strong hand on his chest.

‘Not yet,’ Drake said, hesitant. ‘So . . . you’ll go? You’ll help?’

‘Have you left me with any choice?’ Jonah asked. He felt a sickening weight in his stomach, and was surprised to discover it was the fear of death. He’d never thought he would be afraid, not after seeing Wendy die, witnessing her grace and dignity. But now there was so much still undone.

‘No choice.’

‘You’ve made me a prophet of blood and fear.’

‘It’s what our Coldbrook has been about for years. All our tests on Mannan and we’ve never moved one step closer to a cure. But we have tested this controlled plague-delivery system on him, and over the years we’ve perfected it. We’ve watched, and waited, and planned for the arrival of someone like you. Someone courted by an Inquisitor. And, Jonah, you’re doomed anyway. Why not save the multiverse before you die?’

Jonah laughed. It hurt, but feeling pain was to be alive. ‘You make it sound so noble!’ he said.

‘Isn’t it? You’ve seen only a fraction of the castings. Most places we look, we see death and pain, and those furies waiting for any hint of life to return. We need a cure, yes, but part of that must be taking the fight to them.’

‘Help me up,’ Jonah said at last. ‘You know what, Drake? I’m an old man. I’ve got a dodgy ticker, which I’m surprised is still ticking after whatever the hell you’ve done to it. If you’d only asked, I’d probably have gone anyway.’

‘I had to make sure,’ Drake said softly. Jonah could see the obsession there. Perhaps part of it was revenge, but mostly it was a desire to make things right. Drake had been born after his world’s worst suffering, but he had witnessed that of so many others.

‘But I want to travel,’ Jonah said. ‘Through the breach where the disease entered your world.’

‘Why?’ Drake asked, surprised.

‘Because I want to see. Take it as . . . a dying man’s wish. And the Inquisitor will follow me.’

Frowning, Drake nodded.

‘So how does all this work?’ Jonah said, touching his bare chest. As Drake began to explain, Jonah watched the shadows.

The Gaians of Coldbrook looked at Jonah as if he was some kind of Messiah, an irony that did not escape him. I’ve come to save everything, he could have said, and the crazy bastards might even have bowed down before him.

As he and Drake walked, Jonah thought about those he was leaving behind, Holly most of all. A precious friend, almost a daughter. She deserved an explanation and a goodbye, but he could give her neither. That made him sad. Soon he would exist only in Holly’s memories, as Wendy did in his own.