Dead Days: The Complete Season Two Collection (29 page)

“If he’s alone, deliver the message and take shelter by the old children’s home opposite Heathwaite’s. When it’s clear, head back here, and I’ll meet with you. If he’s not alone then…‌‌improvise.”

“And how will you know it’s Dave?”

Claudia pictured what Mike had told her in her mind. “The spider tattoo on the outside of his hand. The piercing in his tragus.”

Mike looked right back at Claudia. Then, he turned to Chloë. “You okay with this, love?”

Chloë smiled and nodded. She lifted her gun and waved it in the air.

“Good,” Mike said, his voice shaky again. “Good.”

Claudia opened the back door and stepped out. It was cold out there. The sea air had been replaced with a sewerage, bog-like smell. She wasn’t sure which she hated the most of the two.

“Mike,” Claudia said after he said his goodbyes and began to lift his window.

He looked at her. She’d never seen his eyes look so vacant, so empty, before.

“I’m sorry. About Stevie. I really am‌—‌”

He nodded, closed the window, then drove back down the road they’d come from.

His car disappeared into the distance. Silence, but for the wind rustling the grass and the branches of the trees. It surrounded her. Surrounded Claudia and Chloë like death itself.

Chloë grabbed her mum’s hand.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

Claudia smiled at her daughter and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

One of the few positives of that fateful day was that the man driving in their direction was alone.

If only that small glimmer of good luck was an accurate reflection of the way things were going to play out for the rest of the day.

At first, as this Land Rover made its way down the long open road towards the train tracks, this dark-haired man didn’t even seem to be looking. Not until Claudia held her arm out. That’s when he slowed down, his tires squealing against the road as he hit the brakes. He looked at her with wide eyes, then at Chloë with even wider eyes.

Claudia took a deep breath. Kept hold of her girl’s hand.
Look for the tattoo. Look for the earring.

The man pulled up right beside them. Stared at them through the closed window of the Land Rover for a few seconds, eyeing them up, weighing them up.

Then, he lowered the window slightly.

“You…‌‌You alreet out ‘ere? Where you come from?”

That’s when Claudia saw it. The earring in his right ear. And the little tattoo on his hand. A bubble burst inside her. It was Dave. It had to be Dave.

“Dave, we have a message,” Claudia said. She held up the note that Mike had handed her. Rested it against the glass. “From Mike.”

Dave regarded and observed Claudia, Chloë, and the note for a few moments. “‘Owd you know my name?”

“The pierced tragus. The tattoo on the hand‌—‌”

“What’s his son’s name, this Mike?”

Claudia gulped. “Stevie. He’s‌—‌he’s dead. He’s‌—‌”

“Give us that note.” Dave snatched the note through the window of the Land Rover and read it. More moments of silence. More moments of waiting. Claudia watched Dave’s face as he read. Watched him scratch at his stubble, grumbling and sighing. Finally, he turned back to Claudia and Chloë, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket. “You two alreet with this?”

Claudia looked at Chloë. Chloë nodded. “We just have to wait for the creatures to make their way down the road. Once they’re occupied with the fences, we head back over here. You okay with your part?”

Dave nodded. “Improvising. I’m alreet at it. I’ll find a way to scare um even more.” He paused. Pointed ahead. “Take a left when you get to Silverdale. Just head down that way and it’s all clear. Always is. You’ll be reet if you got that way.”

He hit the “close” button of his car window, still looking at Claudia and Chloë, then he turned around and drove down the road towards Heathwaite’s Caravan Park.

Once again, Chloë and Claudia were alone.

“Last stop, the children’s home,” Claudia said, looking at her daughter and half-smiling.

As the pair of them walked down the open road, Claudia thought she heard the distant footsteps of creatures way down the road behind them.

Chapter Seven

More luck seemed to come Claudia and Chloë’s way when they arrived at the abandoned children’s home without so much as a straggling creature to stop them.

They sneaked around the back of the building, being careful to lay low. Heathwaite’s Caravan Park was so close now, they were practically a stone’s throw away. Claudia could see the makeshift gates that had been built at the site’s entrance‌—‌strong looking steel, tyres, all sorts of things, stacked up as high as possible, barbed wire lining the top of the blockade.

And on top of the fence, staring down at the road below, there were two men, both of them holding guns.

Claudia and Chloë were as quiet as possible as they opened the creaky door of the children’s home. The building was small and unspectacular. Apparently, it was a place where kids who were in orphanages and foster care came on holiday trips. Inside, it looked like it hadn’t been used for years. The windows were smashed. Graffiti covered the walls with all sorts of profanities and vulgarities sprayed around. The floor was so dusty that it actually felt spongy to the foot.

Claudia kept tight hold of Chloë’s hand as they walked up the creaky wooden stairs and towards a corridor on the landing area. Up here, they had a good view of the caravan park from a sheltered position, as well as a good elevated spot to deal with any creatures that might want to ruin their plans.

“What now?” Chloë asked, as the pair of them crouched down by the broken window at the top end of this landing area. Claudia leaned forward, being careful not to cut herself on any broken glass, and kept as low as she could.

“Now we wait for the creatures to come. Come on, love. Get down.”

Chloë followed her mum in crouching down. She pointed the gun at the two men, who were manning the gate.

“Don’t point that at them,” Claudia said, moving Chloë’s gun to one side.

Chloë frowned. “But they’re bad people. They killed Stevie and all those other people. Didn’t they?”

Claudia knew her daughter was right. But just seeing her like this again, holding a gun, aiming it at live people. After all the humanity Chloë seemed to have recaptured‌—‌all the innocence she’d rolled back‌—‌it didn’t seem right.

But what was right anymore?

“Let’s just keep our eyes on the road for now,” Claudia said. “Let things happen.”

Chloë sighed and lowered her gun. She stared at the guards around the Caravan Park. Then down at the road. Then back at the guards again. “Do you think they know they’re bad?”

This question threw Claudia. “What…‌‌what do you mean, Chlo?”

Chloë took a bit of time to formulate her reply. “Well…‌‌like on the TV shows. The baddies never know they’re the baddies. They just think they’re doing the right thing. Do you think they’re like that?”

Claudia gulped. The baddies never know they’re the baddies.

How much did she know about the caravan park, after all?

“I think that‌—‌”

Her voice was cut out by a skin-crawling scream from behind the gates of the caravan park.

The guards descended from their posts. Shock covered their faces.

More wailing. More crying. Panic starting to spur up behind the gates.

“What was that, Mum?” Chloë asked. She was alert again now. Her gun was pointed right at the entrance to Heathwaite’s Caravan Park, a little squirrel for its logo chomping on an acorn.

Claudia knew what she wanted to say.
It’s started
, or something like that.

But instead, as the panic began to build inside the boundaries of Heathwaite’s, she couldn’t get the implications of her daughter’s words out of her head.

The baddies never know they’re the baddies.

Claudia wasn’t sure what possessed her to stand up, but she did.

“Mum, where are you‌—‌”

“We have to warn them,” Claudia said. She walked down the creaking stairs and back over the dusty reception area floor towards the back door. “This…‌‌There has to be another way. We can work this out. Co-exist.” She reached the back door of the children’s home and went to push it open.

“Wait!” Chloë said, in a heightened whisper.

Claudia turned. Her daughter was deathly still. Her hand was pointing to the right, back down the road from which they’d come.

“What is it?” Claudia asked. Her fingers were on the cold metal handle of the back door. She was ready to walk. Ready to walk on out there and risk her life to try and build bridges between the two sides.

“The creatures, Mum,” Chloë said. She lowered back down as slowly as she could and kept her focus down the road. “They’re coming.”

That’s when Claudia heard them. The footsteps. The footsteps and the groans getting closer and closer and closer.

She took her hand away from the door. Crept back up the steps. Lay down on her belly next to her daughter, wrapping her arm over Chloë’s shoulder.

The creatures were coming. Hundreds of them, maybe more.

Whether Claudia liked it or not, there was no going back from this.

“Close your eyes, Chloë,” Claudia said as the creatures got closer‌—‌as the guards on the top gate re-appeared and started to panic and fret.

“I prefer to watch them,” Chloë said. “Just like I prefer to watch the injection at the doctor’s.”

Claudia squeezed Chloë’s shoulder.

She wished she had the same courage as her daughter.

The pair of them did watch the creatures as they approached the Heathwaite’s gates. They watched very closely. What other option did they have? Wait in the abandoned children’s holiday home‌—‌wait for the right moment when the creatures were fully engaged in bringing down the Heathwaite’s fences‌—‌then sneak away when they got the chance.

But looking at this mass of creatures now, just yards away from Claudia and her daughter, groaning, growling, scratching up against the fences, Claudia wondered whether that chance would ever arrive.

Chloë was completely still. She had been for a while now. But still, she pointed her gun right at the middle of the mass of creatures. It might not have been much use, but if it made her feel a little safer, then so be it.

The guards who had stood at the top of the Heathwaite’s gates hadn’t shown their faces for some time. In fact, it’d gone completely quiet in there. Claudia wondered whether they’d run away already. Or whether they were just backing down, preparing for the fences to fall, or something else.

Loads of thoughts spun around her head as she lay there on her stomach. Thoughts that she might’ve had earlier, way before agreeing to do all this, but for the cloud of shock that was still floating over her after witnessing all that death this morning. What if Rodrigo and his group didn’t back down? What if the fences did fall? Wouldn’t that mean everybody lost? What if Claudia and her daughter weren’t able to get back to Draca Hotel? What if they went to the train tracks and nobody was there to meet them?

She’d made a tough decision. A tough call. As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours, Claudia wondered whether she’d done the right thing after all.

After what felt like years of lying there, completely still, as rigid as a statue, she noticed something. Off to the left. There was a small group of people moving over the grass and back towards Heathwaite’s. At first, she was convinced they must’ve been creatures‌—‌but no. They were running away from something.

Chloë must’ve seen it just as her mum did because her gun tilted to the left.

There was another huge group of creatures approaching Heathwaite’s from over towards the hills.

That must’ve been Dave. Dave must’ve been drawing more creatures towards the caravan site. But if so, what was left for this place? Shit. Was now the time to move? Was now the time to make a break for it and get going? When was the job to be considered done? Did Mike, stricken by grief, even know himself?

After what felt like another hour, a large sound rattled from a loudspeaker somewhere nearby. The creatures pressed and pressed against the makeshift fences. The fences looked like they were falling. They looked like they were on the verge of giving way. Mike had to know about this. He had to know. If he knew, he’d do something to stop this. They couldn’t all lose this caravan park. Could they?

And then another sound emitted, this one from over to the left where that other group of creatures had wandered.

Claudia searched the area for the source of the sound. It was like an alarm, much louder than any sound coming from the caravan park itself. And there were words too. A man’s voice. Talking. Then more sirens.

Then, one by one, slowly but surely, the creatures started to drift away from the front entrance of the caravan park, and away from the side of the caravan park.

Claudia watched with a slack jaw. They were moving away from the fences. Either this was a part of the plan that Mike hadn’t let her in on, or the people of Heathwaite’s had found a way to counter the assault of the creatures. She had to get back. Warn Mike. Inform him of what she’d seen. She and her daughter had to get out of here as soon as possible.

That’s when the guards appeared at the gates. The same guards as before. Only this time, the one on the left with dark hair had a big smile on his face. Shit. They’d won. Their defence had worked.

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Had it even worked? What even was the plan? Claudia wasn’t so sure anymore. The only thing she was sure of was that she had to get her and Chloë out of this house and back through Silverdale towards the rendezvous point as quickly as possible.

“Can we go now, Mum?” Chloë’s voice was croaky. Probably the longest amount of time in her life she’d been quiet for. Her arms were covered with dimples from the indentations in the floor.

“Just another few minutes,” Claudia said. The creatures were all drifting away from the caravan park gates now. Maybe that was the real plan. Shake them up inside so they figure they have to leave. But this alarm system that was attracting the creatures, drawing them away‌—‌it was fantastic security. Why leave a place like this?