Murder Path (Fallen Angels Book 3) (27 page)

Chapter 39

The incessant, high pitched thrum of the helicopters rotors filled the evening sky, it’s flashing lights highlighting the extent of the craft’s body in the evening dusk.  A spotlight shone down from the front of it, circling the grounds of Morpeth Castle below.  The spotlight created shadows trailing the black garbed ARO’s that were surrounding the building and the two detectives that were approaching the main entrance.

Strange strode up to the tall, grandiose oak doors that marked the entrance to the castle, holding his phone out in front of him, eagerly obeying the continual bleep on its screen.  Cruickshank was at his shoulder, her indomitable gaze not leaving the small screen either. Both of them wore protective vests and trousers.  A gaggle of ARO’s marched behind them.  Strange stopped, then turned to address the officers.

‘Right gents.  The signal is coming from the far right of the castle.  Plans tell us that is the chapel area.  The entrance to the chapel is via a corridor off the main hall.  There are no other entrances.  There are two stained glass windows in the chapel that face out to the rear of the castle.  We have a secure perimeter, so no one should be getting out.  When we enter, there is a main hallway with three doors either side, which leads up the entrance of the main hall.  Secure the rooms behind those six doors, then convene at the hall before we carry on.  Just remember, there are killers in there, so you have authority to shoot, if necessary to kill.  Everyone understand?’  Strange instructed, receiving affirmative nods from all of the officers.  ‘Good.  On my mark: Go!’ Strange finished, a stream of eight ARO’s slinking past him stealthily into the castle.

‘I’m surprised at myself for saying this, but is a kill order the right thing?  You’ve got Adam and Saul in there and they both look exactly the same.  We could be shooting an innocent man.’  Cruickshank whispered over to Strange as they waited for the first call backs from the ARO’s.

‘John’s a policeman.  He knows the risks, he knows what he has let himself in for, and he wants to save Jacob, no matter what.  I can’t pretend it’s not breaking my heart Gaynor, but I know it’s what he would do.’  Strange responded, his features painted in the heartbreak.

‘Come on then, let’s see if we can help him do just that.’  Cruickshank replied encouragingly, affectionately squeezing Strange’s arm, this time, without a hint of awkwardness.

‘Clear.’  Came the staccato shouts from the ARO’s.  Strange and Cruickshank trotted into the hallway, the ARO’s congregating around the entrance to the hall, two ready with their hands on the handles, the others crouched, lined up ready to raid the room. 

‘Go!’  Strange shouted.  The doors were opened and the ARO’s swarmed into the hall, rifles pointing in every conceivable direction quickly and skilfully, the officers dispersing in an elaborately choreographed ballet, covering every part of the hall, honing in on the table in the middle. 

‘Cold bodies!’ came the cry from the first officers to reach the table, an intensity entering all of them as their focus doubled.  Strange and Cruickshank strode over to the table, between a line of ARO’s, and looked at the desolation around the table.

‘Jesus.  Twelve bodies.  All look to have been dead for a while. No sign of blood, wounds or traumas of any kind.  It looks like poisoning, which the spilt wine goblets would corroborate.’  Cruickshank relayed factually, her face a mask of horror as she felt for a pulse on the neck of the nearest victim. ‘The question is, who the hell are they?’

‘Munro!’  Strange shouted into his walkie-talkie, his tone full of disquiet.  ‘Get the forensic team around here immediately and just to be safe, the ambulance and paramedics.’ He finished, dropping his hand carrying the walkie-talkie to his side disconsolately.

‘Straight away Sir.  Sir, we’ve just had word back from the lab as well.  The blood stain from the dungeon was from Jessica Seymour.’  Munro relayed.

‘Twelve people around a table, a banquet laid out, a huge tapestry of ‘The Last Supper’ above the fireplace over there.  If that’s not some kind of religious statement, I don’t know what is.’  Strange ruminated.  ‘This is one of two things.  Either Gabriel is making a statement of intent and showing his strength, or, if our suspicions about Eve are right, this may be the last meal before the final reveal of the Fallen Angels.’

Chapter 40

‘Before you answer that John, and I can see you are eager to, I think it’s time for some pain.  Rebecca, Eve, break every finger on our left hands, one at a time.  Don’t question it, just do it.’

Rebecca looks at me imploringly, not quite sure what to do.  While he has revealed a lot, I still don’t know what he is trying to do with Jacob.  Even if I had a choice, at the moment, we have to do what he wants us to.  I nod at Rebecca and whisper, ‘Break them.’  She reaches down tentatively and holds my little finger between her closed hand, squeezing it with a look of love and anguish ingrained on her face.  She twists and a tsunami of agony engulfs me. ‘Quickly!’ I mumble through a scream, shaking the other four fingers at her.  She sees what I mean, and stealthily breaks them, the augmented pain riding on the wave of the first torture.  I look over to Adam, his face a mask of euphoric misery as Eve does the same to his.

‘So what do you think John, why did they feel it necessary to use the frozen sperm of a dead madman?  Why did they feel the need to introduce his DNA back into the bloodline?’ Adam teases through teeth grimacing in pleasure painted agony

‘The same reason that we started to be genetically modified and cloned.  Because what the Angels thought would happen when the bloodline was pure, that the body would open up to the rapture and receive the spirits of past lives, never happened.’  I relay, my mind starting to piece together the snippets Adam had already said earlier, with all the other evidence and weaving a theory about him.

‘Exactly.  Imagine how it must have felt for Henry and his siblings, to be the guardians of a four hundred year old belief, to have taken every single step that Cotton Mather prescribed to purify the bloodline, and to discover that it didn’t work, that their belief was just another cargo cult, like every other religion.  They concluded something must have gone wrong along the way, and looked to back engineer the bloodline, but also looked to science to see if there was something they has missed.  They reintroduced evil.  In the shape of DNA from a madman for you and me, and the DNA from snakes for our beautiful ladies.’

‘And that’s where your path started.  Being brought up as Adam the Angel, being brought up with the beliefs of The Fallen Angels.  Creating the personality of Gabriel, with the traits of Freddy The Mangler, who you made into a mad scientist, who could see the flaws in what they were trying to do, who somehow found a different way, a scientific way to achieve immortality.  Being a psychopath though, it was never going to be something you did quietly.  You want the world to know what you have achieved.  You wanted to discredit every other religion in the world, to expose them for the bunk you believe they are.  You wanted to do the same with the Angels and make them appear to be murderers.  You made murderers for fun, just because you could, just because you wanted to play God.  And you played, teased and tortured Rebecca and me just for the hell of it, just to engineer this big reveal, just to watch us all die to satisfy your psychopathic needs.  That’s what this is all about.  That’s why the two of us are linked into Jacob.  You believe you have found a scientific way of moving the spirit between bodies?’  I respond, looking at the tubes between us, flowing up into Jacob’s legs.

‘I am impressed John.  Nearly, but not quite.  Oh, the stuff about being a psychopath and wanting to show every religion in the world for the horrific, murderous control mechanisms that they are is spot on.  As is wanting to create murderers for fun, and toying with you.  You’ve missed the bigger inference completely though.  I do those things not just because I am a psychopath.  I do them because I am a God, and that is what God’s do.  Create and destroy, at will, without question or remorse.  We are all Gods John, each and every one of us.  The only difference is that I realise that, and you don’t.  It is mankind that strives for immortality.  It is mankind that constructs religions.  It is mankind that makes murderers.  It is mankind who are the gods.  When we look to the heavens and try to find the God Particle, the thing that will allow us to transcend death and become immortal, we are looking in the wrong place entirely, we should have been looking at the zeros and ones.  Time for more pain.  The arm restraints in these inversion racks bend all the way back on a hinge about halfway up the forearms.  Bend them and break our arms.’ Adam instructs, his eyes alive with a crazed fire.

Rebecca shakes her head, blubbering ‘No, no, no.’ down at me through snot dribbling down from her running nose, joining tears from her cheeks, all slavering onto her quivering lips.

‘Look at Jacob.  Think about Jacob.’  I plead through gritted teeth, still riding the agony of broken fingers.  Still wondering, why the pain? ‘Don’t procrastinate, just fucking do it!’  I scream, shocking Rebecca out of her grief.  She twists the restraints, sending me into a maelstrom of oblivion, riding on the piercing of a scream.  Consciousness swims around me, threatening to leave under the pains intensity, but then the instant shock starts to subside and lucidity returns. I hear Adam laughing in agony.  

‘Zeroes and ones John.  We are made from DNA.  DNA that holds the physical characteristics of our ancestors.  DNA that holds the animal instincts of our ancestors.  DNA that holds the mental state of our ancestors.  That’s what the scientist in me knows.  This is what the scientist in me believes: DNA also holds their memories.  My research has found a way to unlock those memories in DNA.  Just think.  A person that has the ability to recall every single memory from every single one of the ancestors in their family tree.  Now tell me, does that sound like immortality.  We don’t have to go searching the stars, we don’t have to create nebulous deities.  We just have to open up the blockers in our own DNA.  Jacob is the first human with those blockers removed.’

I look at Jacob, at his still, quiet body.  How can that be?  He can’t even move, apart from dilating a pupil: on or off. 

‘I know what you are thinking John.  Jacob is ostensibly lifeless.  He’s not.  He’s just processing centuries worth of memories.  That doesn’t happen in an instant.  That takes time.  It could take decades.  But I believe that time will get shorter, in his children, then in their children.  The other thing to understand is that he won’t have your current memories, only those that were in your DNA up to the point of conception, carried in the sperm that created him.  But I have also found a way to get recent memories into him.  A variation on the way that we are already able to put data into DNA.  That’s why we are hooked up to him John, so that he will receive either yours, or my recent memories, whichever one of us happens to die first.  So this is your final choice.  Kill me, and your son will have my memories.  Kill yourself, and he will have yours.  How do you like the sound of becoming immortal John?’

Chapter 41

Skilful feet stride stealthily along the stone floored corridor, the line of ARO’s progressing in near silent synchronisation.  The first officer holds up a hand, the trail slowing as he does, as he sees the entrance to the Chapel just to his right, the door slightly ajar.  Cruickshank and Strange sidestep the line of ARO’s up to the front and step in at the side of the open door. 

‘Voices.’  Cruickshank whispers, listening intently, holding a finger up to her lips in a shush.

‘How is that a choice?  The second you die, the bomb will explode and we will all die.’  Saul’s voice booms in a contained echo.

‘John, Jacob and a bomb!’ Strange mouths over to Cruickshank as he raised two fingers, counting on his left hand.

‘Not if we reach the rapture before we die.  And we will reach the rapture.  You may be in agony John, but you are also sexually aroused.  The chemicals in your body are mixing, your senses will start to heighten and your cells will start to ignite.  The more pain we suffer, the more sexual pleasure we indulge in, the more our DNA will melt, breaking down the blockers that hold our memories.  That happens first in the bone marrow, where the needles are secreted in our legs.  When we hit the rapture, just at the point of orgasm and death, then the marrow will flow from us into Jacob.  When it hits the needles in Jacob, the bomb will diffuse, and one of us, whichever is the first, will be immortal.  How quickly do you want to die John?’  Adam revealed, a manic tone to his pained voice.

‘Adam?  Why is he making threats?’  Cruickshank queried in confusion.  Strange raised a third finger. 

‘If it saves my son from your deity delusion, then right now.  Just kill me Rebecca, kill me now!’  Saul screamed.

‘Four!’  Strange mouthed, raising a fourth finger, panic in his eyes, as he stepped towards the open door.

‘Stop Rebecca, don’t do it!’  Eve interjected forcefully.

‘Five!’  Cruickshank whispered, throwing out a hand to stop Strange progressing further.  ‘I’m not having you get killed on me.  We don’t know where the hell Gabriel is!’ Strange raised a fifth finger.

‘That’s all I needed to know Gabriel.’ Eve said calmly.

Strange and Cruickshank looked deep into each other’s eyes, realisation dawning on them both simultaneously.  ‘Adam is Gabriel!’ they both whispered synchronously, Strange’s features becoming focused and alert.  He turned to the ARO’s and addressed them quickly, with ruthless efficiency.

‘Five people in there.  By the sounds of the echo in the voices, behind some kind of screen.  There’s a bomb as well.  It sounds like Adam/Gabriel is in control of that.  Nobody sounds in a position to shoot at us.  I want an arc of officers just inside the door, guns pointing into the room, but no firing, this is purely intimidation.  He needs to know we are here.’  Strange relayed quickly.  ‘On my mark:  Go!’

Two by two the ARO’s lined up, then stormed into the Chapel, scything off left and right, rifles pointed straight ahead, focusing on the four visible people in the two glass cases.  They formed an arc just inside the chapel door, leaving a space, through which Cruickshank and Strange entered, side by side, taking in the macabre vista in front of them.

‘Whatever the hell you are doing, stop, all of you!’  Strange ordered firmly, raising a hand in placation, eyes darting between the four people in the glass cases.

Adam’s features were half filled with confusion and euphoria in equal measures.  His lips started to move, ready to address Strange, but he was distracted as Eve started to pull the tubes from his legs.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Adam spat at her, shaking in his restraints.  ‘Do I have to remind you that there’s a bomb under Jacob.  Pull one more of those tubes out and it blows!’ he threatened insidiously.

‘Go ahead, detonate.’  Eve replied calmly, panic entering the eyes of everyone looking over to her.  Rebecca ran to the glass and started banging on it, pleading for Eve to stop.  Saul started screaming likewise, trembling in his restraints.  Strange started to stride toward the glass case, demanding the same.  The ARO’s backed up, right into the wall of the room.    Cruickshank stood stoically observing Eve.

‘You think I won’t!  After everything you have seen me do, you are trying to call my bluff!’ Adam sneered in obvious apoplexy, pressing his thumb agonisingly into the button of the trigger in his hand.

‘I’m not trying to call your bluff.  I’m just waiting for you to understand that yours wasn’t the last play in this endgame.  I’m just waiting for your crazy, insular mind to realise who is standing in front of you.’  Eve relayed with serene composure as she pulled out the last tube and dropped it to the floor, the screams of everyone echoing around the room.

Adam looked furiously up at her, a crazed realisation overwhelming his face.  He pressed the trigger, everyone’s screams stopping, replaced by silent dread.

Replaced by silence.  No explosion, just silence.

All eyes turned to Eve.

‘Perhaps it’s time to introduce myself Adam.  You know me well.  I am Jessica Seymour.  I am the Eve who has been part of this from the start and I will be the Eve to stop it all.  All of your warped, barbaric ideology will be destroyed in the next ten minutes.  All of our failings in letting you loose on the world will be redeemed too.  I diffused the bomb Adam, and I am going to kill you.’  Eve said as she reached over Adam and started to dig her fingers into his chest, breaking the skin with her sharp nails, worming a thumb under the muscle, forcing it through to the bone of his ribs.

Adam looked down at her fingers inveigling their way under the skin, his features twitching, a shimmering of pleasure gleaming from his emerald eyes as Eve started to rip it open.

‘So you knew what I was up to?  Killing me won’t make a difference.  You do realise that.  While Jacob may not get my recent memories, he still has all of our ancestral memories.  He will still be the first of our line to achieve immortality.’

‘We suspected.  We put plans in place to find out years ago, the very first time Gabriel appeared on the scene.  Henry had a suspicion who it was and for a while, let you run free.  We all regret that now.  We recognise the Fallen Angels have become worse than every single one of the religious atrocities we have revealed, by allowing you to be created and by allowing you to wreak havoc on the world.  That ends today.  We end today.’  Eve replied with a quiet dignity.  She reached a hand inside his ripped chest and circled bloody fingers around the bone of a rib and yanked hard, breaking it from its cage.  Adam baulked in his restraints, stifling a scream, riding the wave of excruciating pain.

Strange knocked on the glass case frantically.  ‘Eve, you don’t have to do this.  Killing him won’t achieve anything, don’t sully your hands with his blood.’ he pleaded.

‘They already are Jeremiah, and the deaths of every single innocent Angel he has killed, or by proxy, made people kill.’ Eve responded sanguinely, then turned back to Adam.

‘This world should never have known your faith.  It should never have needed to fear it.  It won’t need to fear it anymore.’ Eve said, then thrust the broken rib deep into Adam’s chest, straight through his heart.  His body wracked in its restraints, blood spurting from his chest uncontrollably as his body breathed in the throes of death.  He started to gag, the viscose liquid entering his lungs, seeping up his windpipe, filling his throat, spittling from his mouth as with one last gargling breath, life left him, dulling his emerald eyes.

Eve pulled the rib from his heart, holding it tightly in her hand, and turned to face Saul and Rebecca, her body covered in Adam’s blood.  ‘We should have been welcoming you home, into the wings of the Fallen Angels, for bringing the first new child of an Angel into this world.  Instead, we nearly killed you all.  A belief that can do that to the very family it loves, is not a belief we wanted to be part of this world any longer.  All of us, collectively, decided it was time to go: time for our last supper.  The faith of the Fallen Angels ends here.  Learn from our mistakes, tell Jacob all about those mistakes and bring him up to love the family he has, not the one that may come in our eternal tomorrow.’

Eve turned towards Strange, and walked up to the glass, placing a hand opposite his flat palm.  ‘We drew them in because we needed them.  We needed them to get to Adam.  None of this was their doing.  It was all us, The Fallen Angels.  We will no longer stand in the shadows of our own God and let these atrocities prevail.  We will no longer allow innocent Angels to bleed in the ignominy of our seed.  This is where the Fallen Angels end.’

Eve took a step back and raised the bloody rib high into the air, grasping it in both hands.  Her face was filled with an anguished sadness, as she looked around beseeching eyes, their agonising cries reaching her ears, flowing with the sorrow of her mourning tears.  ‘Forgive us.’ she whispered, through teeth trembling with grief.  Eve brought her arms down fast, the hands heading for her chest, the rib aimed true, ripping through her blouse, piercing her porcelain skin, breaking the ribcage, puncturing her already broken, bleeding heart.