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Williams of yours passes from this world in peace, then I am wrong. However, if his passing is taken from him by the disease, then I must conclude my hypothesis is correct. Now come, we must not miss his passing.” He turned to Rogers. “No one enters this ward, no one.”
    Rogers tugged at his cap and took the seat which Jenkins had just vacated.
     
    The two doctors watched Williams intently. For more than three hours the man continued to live, but finally his body yielded to its injuries. However, another hour passed before The Lingering took hold.
    Jenkins jumped to his feet. “Dr Bartholomew, look — you were right!”
    Bartholomew struggled wearily to his feet and looked at the yellow-eyed creature lying motionless in the bed.
    “Dr Jenkins, pass me a needle.”
    The young doctor did as he asked. He retrieved a needle from a syringe, and passed it to the elderly doctor standing beside the bed. Bartholomew pricked his finger and allowed a drop of his blood to fall onto the thing’s lips. The change was instantaneous. In less time than it took Bartholomew’s heart to beat, the placid yellow-eyed creature, turned into a black-eyed monster.
    Bartholomew stepped away from the bed and shook his head. “We are all doomed to this fate. I must inform the authorities, and The Queen.”
    Jenkins looked at the paralysed creature slavering in the bed. “But, sir, what of Mr Williams?”
    Bartholomew looked at the poor soul, and replied coldly. “Dispatch him.”
    Jenkins looked at him for a moment and then headed for a fire axe, which hung on the wall beside a bucket of sand. A few moments later he returned to Bartholomew’s side and mumbled, “We must find a better way than this. We are treating our sick like animals.”
    The world weary doctor patted his young colleague on the shoulder. “I agree, my boy, but what else can we do?”
    Jenkins approached the bed, and swung the axe high over his head. With a bellow of grief, he brought the blade down and split the Lingerer’s skull in two. For several moments the young doctor just stared at the carnage his act of savagery had caused. Finally, with trembling hands, he ripped the axe free and threw it across the room.
    He turned his gaze to his colleague and tried to speak, but his barbaric act had robbed him of the ability of speech. Instead, he simply slumped to his knees and sobbed.
    Bartholomew looked at him and felt nothing but pity. There had to be a better option than dispatching The Lingering one at a time. The creature in the bed had once been human, and it deserved better than having its head turned to pulp. There had to be a more humane way of dealing with them.
     
    Bartholomew stumbled from the room and grabbed for the wall to steady himself. On seeing his distressed superior, Rogers heaved himself from his chair and dashed to his side. He took the doctor gently by the arm and guided him back to the chair, which he’d so recently vacated.
    “Were you right, sir?”
    “Yes, Rogers, regrettably my hypothesis holds true.”
    Rogers crossed himself, and looked at the doors through which Bartholomew had just appeared. “I take it I have another body to deal with?”
    Bartholomew just nodded and collapsed into the battered leather of the chair.
     

Chapter 4
     
    Location: 10 Downing Street, London
    Date: March 29 th 1843
    Time: 4:15 p.m.
    Sir Robert Peel sat at his desk and stared out at Downing Street below. In his two years as Prime Minister he’d seen nothing that threatened the empire more than The Lingering. The disease had to be England’s greatest catastrophe. Two-thirds of the country’s population had fallen victim to the disease, and the remaining third still struggled with the disease’s aftermath.
    He stood and slowly approached the fireplace. His eyes fixed on the portrait of his wife and seven children. The Lingering had robbed him of three of his five sons, and both of his daughters. His remaining two heirs now stood watch over his ailing