Battle the Dark: Chapter 38

"Looks like someone's already broken in here."  John  said.


"Looks that way, yes."  Timothy agreed.


"Let's go.  If someone's broken in, it's probably the place."  Shaun added.  They proceeded through the side lower door that had been shot open.


"Someone wanted in here bad enough to risk attracting attention."  John said.


Timothy laughed, "This is Dublin, not New York City, Lieutenant."


"I seem to keep forgetting."  John responded.  They used their lights and followed Timothy's lead.


Timothy said, "I can't believe I forgot about the catacombs here, we used to play in them as children."


"Lead the way."  The two men followed the older man's lead, and ended up at the small opening that Blair and Sister Rebecca Katherine had stood by, not hours before.  "It's opened. Someone's been here."  John said.


"Most likely, the men from RA21.  They also have this knowledge, now that they have given it to me.  They have a score to settle as well.  I will warn you, they have a penchant for firebombs."  Timothy explained.


Shaun and John looked at each other, "I'll take New York," Shaun said.  McBain nodded.


***


Patrick, still holding Todd upright, looked at him and said, "Manning.  You don't look so well."


Todd could not help but let a small laugh escape him, "I'm not so well.  I'm dreaming that a hairy poet is saving me."


"Same Todd.  Can't believe you're alive.  You're one tough bastard."


"And you, the same."  Todd collapsed, causing Patrick to drag him, still standing, to the rock ledge and sit him there.  Supporting him still with one large hand, Patrick checked his wounds.  


"Todd, can you hear me?  You'll want to wake up."  Patrick put a bottle of water to Todd's lips.  Slowly, he helped Todd finish the whole bottle.  "You're bleeding badly, out of your side.  You got the better of him, eh?"


"Yeah, we go way back."


Patrick, examining him closer, noticed the countless scars and wounds all over him, mostly on his back, with several on his arms, wrists and chest.  "Not to get too personal, but I'm trying to help ya, here, and noticing..."


"Scars, I know.  His specialty.  I have a stab wound though, I'm bleeding out.  I don't have long.  I can feel it."


Patrick found the wound, and looked at it.  Pulling something from his bag, he first washed the area with something that burned through Todd's side and made him cry out.  


"Sorry, but we have to clean it, we don't need more infection."  Then he took glue from his pouch, and applied it over the wound.  This again stung and burned.  "It's to seal it, for now.  It doesn't work perfectly, but it helps."  He covered it with the gauze and tape that The Slice and Dice had in his bag.  "You've lost a lot of blood.  It's all over this place.  You must have tried to get up countless times."


"I did.  Are you for real, I mean, I'm not imagining..."


"I'm real.  A hallucination cannot dress your wound."


"I want more water."


"All right, sit there, and I'll get some."  Taking the empty bottle from Todd's hand, he went around the side to the alcove, and turned on the water, filling the bottle again.  Returning, he handed it to Todd.  


Todd said, "You know your way around."


"I do.  I was held here.  By the Men of 21.  For the better part of six years."


Todd nodded, "I was held by them in the states.  For eight."


"They wanted information from me, I never talked.  When they got tired of me, they beat me and left me for dead along the side of the road in your favorite place."


"Not old Innishcreg?"


"Exactly, yes.  That was where I met some other men, from a group called the RA21.  They found me, near death, and nursed me back to health.  That wasn't long ago.  I became a member.  They're bound and determined to bring down The Men of 21, and so am I.  However, I'm not keen on their plans."


"Who was your keeper?"


"I had many.  None who did what happened to you."


"Yeah, they saved the sickest for me.  I guess it goes without saying."


"You don't change, much, Manning.  Not even after all this."


Todd closed his eyes, resting his head back.  "I'm dying.  I don't know if I can make it.  I'm going to slow you down."


"Not to worry, I won't be going anywhere without ya.  I'm familiar with how Ms. Blair carries on about you.  I won't want to be at the mercy of her wrath.  She is still in the picture, eh?"


"She's my wife," he held up his left hand, showing his ring, and realized it was the good one.


"I thought so.  You can tell me the rest another time, right now, we have to concentrate on getting you out of here."


***


"It's no use, Sister.  We're at the end."  They had found some interesting things along the way: a well, that seemed to be very deep; an alcove, perfect for resting; a meeting area, in which the rocks had been specially arranged as furniture.  But it was clear to them that none of these things were currently in use.


"We surely are, dear.  We must go back, and try the other side now. Perhaps there are areas such as the ones we found on that side as well.  I just remembered that we never called John McBain."


"That's an hour and a half walk back to the start and who cares?"


The sister gave Blair a disgusted look for both of the comments.  "A long walk it shall be."


"Isn't there a shortcut, or a path that connects somewhere?"


"I'm not sure.  Look on both sides carefully as we go back.  If you see something suspicious, we'll stop and investigate."


Blair stopped, she had never been so dirty in her life.  The nun looked comical, with her white headpiece's edging blackened by dirt and grime, and a dirt smear on her cheek.  Blair said, "Sister, he's running out of time."


"I know it, dear.  This is not the time for us to give up.  We must push on."


They moved forward through the rock halls, and suddenly, Blair stopped.  "Did you hear that?"


"No, dear, what is it?"


"I could swear I heard talking."


They stopped and froze, waiting.  Both of them heard soft mumbles from somewhere inside the catacombs.  The nun whispered, "I heard it.  Let's try and follow."


They worked toward the sound, and found it was coming from a small alcove, in which they had rested, about halfway along the route.  They stood, in the dark, shutting the lights, and listened. 


"The whole thing will blow," said the first voice.


"It certainly will, mind ya, it will remove the cinemas from the face of the earth."


"No other choice.  They're here, and they meet later tonight."


"Then we have ta.  We have no otha choice."


"Not until I give the word.  Let's go, their base is on the other side."


To their horror, they had accidentally discovered a small faction of a the RA21 group, plotting to use a firebomb to take care of The Men of 21, and these very catacombs, once and for all.


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