In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 28

The doors are worn but still strong and solid. There is no handle and I try to grip the crack between them with my sore fingers. They're clamped hard together. I continue to scratch and claw, desperate to prize them open.

Markus pulls out his dagger, slides the blade into the crack and pushes hard. Still the doors won't budge. I squat in the dust and slide mine in below his. We both push on the dagger handles and the door creaks but still doesn't budge. We move around the side of the church and look up, searching for another way in. The wall is solid stone and windowless. At the back I spot a single opening, high off the ground.

"There," I point up, kicking the dust as I slide to a halt.

The window is circular, the glass bashed in. Tiny colourful specks gleam on the sill, scattering flecks of blue, red and green onto the sand at our feet. I begin to climb the wall, using the gaps between the large grey stones as footholds and hand-grasps. I move up with ease, a few stones at a time. Grabbing the window ledge, I push up with my feet, scraping my knees against the stone until I can see through the window. The ledge is littered with pieces of stained glass; the cause of the scattered colourful rays. I squint to block out the spray of light and settle my knees on the stone. Some of the glass crunches beneath my jeans, slicing through. I groan as I slowly move my hands forward, careful to avoid the shards. I pull my hoody from around my head and place it down, covering the ledge in a protective layer to crawl across. My face is sore, blistering from the sun and sand. My eyes stream and my vision blurs as I steady myself.

Kneeling on my hoody, I peer down into the darkness. A circular spotlight, obscured by my shadow within it, is the only light to fall inside. Dust floats amidst the rays and I struggle to see what's down below.

The church looks bare, the floor littered with splintered wood and rubble, not much else. A stone altar is below me and I can see objects shining faintly on top of it.

I swivel my neck and look back outside, down at Markus who's looking up at me, squinting.

"It looks empty. We should search it—rest here at least. It's been a while since we slept."

Markus stares blankly and removes his hoody from around his head. He steps closer and begins to climb, struggling to grip the stone. Sweat pouring from his forehead has made the black across his face run, revealing the sickly skin in streaks beneath it. We need to find supplies. He won't last much longer, that's a sure thing.

As he nears me I reach down, grabbing his arm and holding onto the window frame with my other hand. Markus reaches the ledge and pulls himself up so that he's looking in, right beside me. I shuffle my knees backwards, let my legs hang and lower myself with my arms. I turn my head as I dangle, flat against the stone. The altar is right below me, a wide slab littered with gleaming objects; gold.

I drop, fall onto the metal that clatters around me. I lie for a second with my eyes closed.

"Bandi," Markus whispers from the darkness above. "Are you Ok?"

His form is silhouetted, high above me, surrounded by a circle of white hot light. I sit up and squint till my vision adjusts. Standing, I move forwards to look over the objects; candlesticks and small statues of a man on a cross. Sadly the candlesticks are empty and I shake my head, annoyed I expected anything more. There's a smell of burn inside, a hot dryness that feels heavy and harsh. I catch Markus as he drops down and we both turn to investigate.

"There would have been rows of benches here once, probably all taken for firewood, or to build more useful things," Markus whispers.

The church is around thirty metres long and twenty wide, the whole building one large chamber. The main doors are in front of us, almost totally obscured by a large barricade of various tables and benches, heavy things.