Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) (14 page)

She knew she had
to tread carefully with the man if she wanted all of them to come out of this alive. He had assured her that they had come to Lanherne purely as part of an on-going civilian rescue program, but something about this man told her he was not to be trusted.

‘Ah, I see your little flock has been gathered,’ he continued, nodding to the assembled
group. ‘Is this everyone who lives here?’

Sister Josephine looked at the group that she had come to think of as her family. Apart from Imran, Phil and Duncan, everyone was there. It was then that she noticed
that Liz was missing from their number.

‘St
ay hidden, Liz
,’ she thought to herself. ‘
There’s a fox in the hen house
.’

‘Yes, we all seem to be here,’ she said, moving over to sit next to Richard who stood protectively in front of Nicky and Jason
. ‘Now, I believe you were going to tell us, Sergeant Blackmore, where you have been and what’s happening in the big outside world?’

Staff Sergeant Blackmore looked blankly at the old woman who had just lied to his face. Of
course, she wasn’t to know he had watched the cart leave yesterday and knew some of their group were absent.

‘Right, for those of you who haven’t heard, my name is Staff Sergeant Blackmore and I am here with my squadron and a group of medical personnel, seeking out the small communities who have managed to thrive in these difficult times.’

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Damien interrupted, ‘In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been dying out here.’

Everyone turned their attention briefly to Damien, murmuring their agreement with his sentiment. Alice was the only one who had kept her eyes on the Sergeant and what she saw flash across his eyes when Damien spoke, froze the blood in her veins.
Clearly, this man led his men through fear and intimidation and was not used to being spoken to like that. In that briefest of moments, Alice could see he wanted to teach Damien a very painful, if not fatal lesson.

‘Damien, let the Sergeant speak
,’ Alice quickly added, hoping to diffuse the situation before Damien ended up in a pool of his own blood.

Sergeant Blackmore’s eyes flicked in her direction as she spoke and the rage was replaced by something else. Something, Alice found somehow equally disturbing but could not identify.     

‘My men and I have been stationed on an island military facility since the initial days of the outbreak,’ he began. ‘There, with a collection of some of the most eminent scientists and doctors available to the Centre for Disease Control, our prime objective was to find a cure to what has been classified as the Death-walker plague.’

‘And have you?’ Sister Josephine asked, calmly.

‘A cure?’ the Sergeant said, looking at the expectant faces in the room. ‘Although Dr Farrell and his team have had a lot of breakthroughs in determining the properties of the Death-walker virus, its chemical and molecular make up and even how it works, they have been unable, as of yet, to develop any vaccine or anti-virus to counter-act the Death-walker effects.’

The fleeting sense of hope some of the group had been feeling, evaporated with the Sergeant
’s words. Many had given up on someone ever finding a way of eradicating the Dead completely from their lives, but to be told that, even after all this time the top brains were still fumbling blindly for answers, was still deflating to hear.

‘So, we
might not have come to you with a cure,’ Sergeant Blackmore continued, ‘but we have come to offer you sanctuary. We have eradicated all the active Dead on the island and have even devised a way to ensure that we never have to deal with corpses reanimated by the Death-walker virus.’

Once again, hope bloomed for the group.

‘But I thought you said your scientist hadn’t found a way of stopping it?’ Sally asked, little Alex sitting quietly in her lap.

‘Private Fisher,’ Sergeant Blackmore said, clicking his fingers
, ‘show them.’

Without saying a word, one of the soldiers who had been standing at the front of the room, stepped forward and began to unbutton his collar. Pulling the collar down to expose his muscular neck, the soldier turned so his back was facing them. Secured about his neck by a black band
, was a small silver oblong box.

‘This,’ Sergeant Blackmore began, pointing to the box, ‘is how we ensure no one comes back. Attached to the back of the neck, the device monitors the wearer’s heartbeat via the electrical impulses conducted through the skin. Should, for any reason, the device cease to register any impulses for a period longer than two minutes, a micro charge housed within it will fire a single metal bolt upwards, through the base of the skull and into the brain, incapacitating the subject before the Dearth-walker virus can take full effect.’

‘So you walk around with basically a loaded gun at your head all the time?’ Richard asked.

‘The alternative is not acceptable,’ the Sergeant said matter-of-factly
, ‘and I must tell you, there is no negotiation in this matter. Once you are on the island, you will wear one like everybody else, twenty-four-seven. Everyone is subject to this rule. There are no exceptions. Anyone caught breaking this rule will be dealt with appropriately.’

Alice didn’t like the sound of that ‘appropriately’ and wondered what sort of place this island sanctuary had turned into.

‘What about the children?’ Lars asked. ‘Many of them are too young to understand such a rule, surely?’

Sergeant Blackmore looked from the man who had spoken to the young children dotted among the group of Lanherne survivors.

‘Any child unable to comprehend the rule is given a similar device that fits about the wrist. This is linked to a partnered device given to a designated adult. Should the child’s device be removed or it fails to measure the heartbeat from the child, an alarm will sound on the adult’s wrist. The adult with then have the two minutes to reset the child’s wrist alarm or deal with the situation.’

‘What happens if the adult fails to do that?’ Lars continued, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Sergeant Blackmore looked directly at Lars, his eyes devoid of emotion.

‘As these wrist bands are only used by the very young, they have been installed with a larger explosive to eradicate the problem, totally, should it arise
,’ he replied.

‘Jesus!’ Richard said under his breath.

Sally instinctively pulled Alex a little closer, subconsciously needing to protect the child.

‘But what if…’ Nicky began to say but was cut short by the Sergeant.

‘I assure you that after a while, you forget it’s even there. It becomes just part of your everyday life and it’s a very small price to pay for life of security, free from the Dead.’ Sergeant Blackmore continued brushing aside any further discussion on the subject. ‘Now, Sister Josephine has given us permission to stay here tonight before we leave tomorrow morning. While we are here, you will be put in the capable hands of Dr Morris and his team. He will be giving each of you a full health check and will want to find out a little more about you to help us determine how you are to fit into our little community. Please be frank and honest with him when he asks you for your details. We only have your interests and wellbeing in mind.’

With
that, Sergeant Blackmore turned and began to walk out of the Refectory, the civilians already dismissed from his mind. As he reached the door, he was met by his son who had a printed report in his hand.

‘Yes
, Private?’ He asked in the tone he used for all those he thought beneath him.

‘Message from HQ, Sir
,’ Private Stephen Blackmore replied, saluting. ‘They require an immediate response and we only have a few minutes of the satellite window left, Sir.’

‘Very well,’ Sergeant Blackmore said, snatching the report from the Private’s hand.

As Sergeant Blackmore disappeared down the corridor, scanning his print out, Steve looked into the room to the collection of men, woman and children who unknowingly, had just been co-opted into Major Carden’s army. As his gaze moved from one worried expression to the next, he realised that despite there being a lot more young children here, this group was much like any other they found. Granted, these seemed a little better fed and were certainly cleaner but something was always in the eyes of those who had been forced to find a way to survive among the Dead that set them apart from the likes of himself and the men of his squadron. As his glance moved about the room, it fell upon the face of an attractive young woman with short blonde hair and the most amazing eyes. She was sitting next to a man whose hands that even from the doorway, Steve could tell were crippled by arthritis. Something about the mismatched pair itched at the back of his mind. He found something vaguely familiar about them both. It was then that the man turned his head toward Steve, returning his gaze. The man’s eyes slowly scanned Steve’s face questioningly, as if he was searching for something un-definable hidden among Steve’s stubble and cold weather blushed skin. Suddenly, the man’s eyes widened in realisation.

‘Steven Blackmore!’ T
he man shouted, standing up to point at Steve.

Steve’s jaw fell open in shock. He instantly recognised that voice, that pointing finger and that childhood fear that crept slowly up his spine.

‘It is Steven Blackmore, isn’t it?’ the man asked, smiling as he made a move forward.

Beside
him, the pretty woman who had also risen to her feet, placed her hand on the man’s arm trying to pull him back down.

‘Lars?’ Sh
e asked, looking back and forth between the two men, unsure of what was happening.

‘Mr Sorenson
,’ Steve managed to say with a chuckle, ‘I’m afraid I never finished that Geography project you set… something came up.’

Stunned, Penny let go of Lars’ arm as he rushed forward to shake Steve’s hand. Penny watched the soldier greet Lars with wide smiles and the enthusiasm of a long lost friend
. All the while, his eyes kept flicking from Lars over to herself.

‘And do you remember Penny?’ Lars
asked, excitedly leading Steve over to her. ‘No, of course you don’t. Penny was in the year above you, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes, yes of course, I remember Penny
,’ Steve said, his eyes seeming to Penny to drink in every detail of her face.

‘You don’t have to humour him,’ Penny said, nodding to Lars
. ‘He’s not as dotty as he looks.’

‘I’m not…’ was all Steve could say, as he gazed intently at her.

Lars, looking from one ex-pupil to the next, was more than a little perplexed but then encountering someone you thought sure to be long dead would do that to you.

‘So, I take it Staff Sergeant Blackmore is your father then
,’ Penny said, needing to escape Steven’s gaze but not really wanting to.

There was something enthrall
ing but also a little unnerving about the way his eyes moved across her face, as if they savoured the experience; hungry for something only she could give. Penny was not used to men looking at her like that, especially not adult men. Sure, she had boyfriends all those years ago before the Dead came, but even then, they did not look upon her with the obvious fascination and want, that Steve did. This was not the teenage lust she had seen in the eyes of her boyfriends as they fumbled with her cardigan buttons in those brief teenage moments. She could tell Steve needed to touch her and even now, as she glanced down at his strong hands, he clenched his fists to stop them from reaching for her. It was only when she thought of his hands slowly moving forward, that she realised her own fists had clenched tightly, mirroring his restrained desire.

‘Sorry?’ Steve said, his voice sounding distant to himself.

‘Sergeant Blackmore, he’s your dad, right?’ Penny said softly, wondering to herself what it would be like to feel his strong arms about her, his lips on hers.

‘Oh, yes… yes he is,’ Steve replied, his smile dropping slightly
. ‘Lucky old Staff Sergeant Blackmore was on the list and so by proxy, Mum and I got dragged along, like so much luggage to the base, with him.’

For the briefest of moments, Penny was sure she saw something akin to regret or shame hidden beneath his beautiful facade. Perhaps he felt guilty that he had been spared the horrors of the Dead.

‘That was lucky for you too?’ remarked Lars, shaking his head. ‘People have done some terrible things to each other out here, just to survive… terrible things.’

‘What? Yes, I suppose it was luck
, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a brat. I know it must’ve been hell for you all out here,’ Steve replied.

Suddenly remembering there were other people in the room apart from Penny, Steve looked at the others nearby who had been watching their exchange and
he blushed slightly.

‘
Well, you’re here now, my boy,’ Lars chuckled, as he slapped Steve’s shoulder. ‘Better late than never.’

‘
Believe me, we thought it would be never,’ said the smiling pregnant woman sitting next to a small girl. ‘I’m Alice, by the way,’ she continued, awkwardly turning her large body so she could reach her hand out for him to shake.