dEaDINBURGH: Origins (Din Eidyn Corpus Book 3) by Mark Wilson

Kirk had wandered over, joining the seated audience who were staring at Harry, their faces beginning to relax, losing the stained lines of confusion and fear.
    “We... you are needed, right now. This is your time to be the hero your sons and daughters think you to be.” He pointed at a few of the adults with children in their arms. “For you to be the strong man or woman your own parents expected of you or failed to be for you. This is your duty.”
    He banged a fist on the pew in front of him, causing a few of the now hundred-strong crowd to start.
    “We’re secure… for now, but these doors will not stand indefinitely. Weight of numbers will have its way.”
    He paused for a second, once again drilling his eyes and purpose into each of his congregation.
    “We, all of us who are able, have to go outside and close the outer gates. Accomplish this, and we can think of ourselves as more secure.”
    The crowd were nodding, but still looked fearful.
    One man spoke up.
    “Can’t you guys deal with it alone? You’re soldiers, we’re just a group of frightened people.”
    He looked at his shoes, clearly embarrassed at his admission and the nakedness of his fear. A few others began to lose the spark Harry had ignited and retook their seats.
    Harry smiled. James did too. They’d both been here before. Many times.
     
    Harry relaxed his posture and filled his eyes with warm sincerity. Dressed in civilian clothes, denims, Berghaus winter boots and a heavy overcoat, he slipped out of the coat, deliberately revealing a ridiculous sweater given to him by a kid outside Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day.
    Despite themselves, a few people chuckled as they took in the dark blue, snow-flake-speckled wool jumper, complete with jolly snowman with a carrot nose protruding from the fabric like an object in a pop-up book.
    He wanted them to see him as normal, one of them, despite his military training and his royal blood. Deliberately lowering his voice to a whisper, he allowed his eyes to soften further, making eye-contact once again with all gathered.
    “We’re scared too.” He threw a gesture indicating James and Cameron. “Nobody’s seen an outbreak like this one. Nobody. We’re trained men, yes, but we haven’t been trained for this, no-one has. Us,” he made a broad gesture around the room, “we’re the people who fought, or ran from what’s happening out there. Us, we survived it… so far. That makes us the experts.”
    People were being drawn in again. It was his voice, it was just him, the undiluted presence of him laying out the bare truth.
    “The soldiers will come, but they do not know what they’re facing. They’ll try to help the infected. Maybe they’ll succeed, but an awful lot of them will die or be infected themselves. We’ve seen people die and turn into one of them in under a minute. We’ve witnessed bites take an hour to kill and reanimate. Whatever this thing is, it works quickly and creates monsters where decent people once were. If we are to use this place as the haven it can be, it’ll take more than us three soldiers to clear the courtyard and lock those gates.”
    A few of the crowd had risen to stand and nodded along as he spoke.
    “They… those people outside. They will get in eventually if we don’t get that gate secured. Every moment we leave it open, more infected arrive and more of them kill or turn the poor souls who weren’t fortunate enough to find a place like this. Someone has to do this, right now. If not you, then who? If not now, then when?”
    A group of twenty-somethings stood forward first, the brunette girl in the group taking Harry’s hand.
    “We’ll help.” She jerked her head back at her six friends who nodded along.
    Next a man in his sixties, determined-looking, stood out from the crowd and threw Harry a scowl.
    “Never liked your lot much, son. Might’ve misjudged you, though.”
    He gave Harry a belt on the shoulder with one of his big hands.
    “Thank you,