Six Days With the Dead (13 page)

As Delilah pulled the Cart up alongside the door cove
red school railings, Charlie brought her to a stop.

‘
We’ve got another one,’ Charlie said, tutting in annoyance.

The Dead man
’s black skin had turned to a mottled ash grey and a sickening greenish mould bloomed across one side of his face. From the tattered remains of his filthy suit, Liz assumed he had been some sort of business man before he had died and she could just about tell that his shirt had once been white but was now dark and stained with long dried blood. His lower jaw was missing, having been torn away either before or after he joined the ranks of the Dead. With no jaw to keep it in his mouth, his dark black tongue lolled from the gaping hole like a monstrous slug. The Dead creature must have seen Jackson at some point because it pawed at the barricade with a painful desperation, its tongue moving back and forth each time his decaying hands clawed against the doors.

‘
I’ll get this one,’ Imran said, flipping the top hatch open.

Liz watched through the front slit as an arrow flew from Imra
n’s bow direct to the Dead man’s head. With a sickening thump, the arrow punctured the rotten skull and the now lifeless corpse collapsed to the pathement.

‘
Clear,’ Imran said, as he made a check for any other dangers.

Jumping down through the back hatch L
iz ran over to the corpse. Placing a booted foot on its ruined head, she pulled the arrow free and handed it back to Imran who had joined her.

‘
Thanks,’ he said, wiping the tip clean on his trouser leg and replacing it back in the quiver on his back.

‘
Well let’s see if Jackson’s home,’ Liz said, reaching down to a bucket of brightly coloured plastic balls.

Unlike at the Convent, Jackson didn
’t have the luxury of being far from main roads. Here in the village, the Dead could appear stumbling down the small twisting lanes at any moment. So rather than a bell that could so easily be heard as a dinner gong by the Dead, any visitors would throw a ball over the railings to get his attention. Grabbing a yellow ball from the bucket Liz tossed it high over the wall. As she heard the ball land on the other side of the barricade, she heard an unexpected yapping sound, followed by Jackson saying something she couldn’t make out.

‘
Who’s there?’ Jackson called over the railings.

‘
It’s Liz from the Convent Mr Jackson, Charlie needs to talk with you,’ she replied.

With a clanking of chains, Liz could hear Jackson opening the school gates.

‘Imran, you watch Delilah and I’ll have a chat with Jackson,’ Charlie said, as he climbed down from the cart.

‘
Will do.’

Leaving him wat
ching out for more of the Dead, Liz and Charlie went inside. As soon as they were through Jackson quickly closed the gate behind them. Jackson was looking thinner than the last time she had seen him and Liz wondered if the Convent could spare him some food to keep him going. He may not be part of the actual Convent community but they classed him as a friend and wouldn’t let him simply starve in front of them. Surprisingly, in his arms he held a small black puppy, that was wriggling to get down.

‘
Hello Mr Jackson, and who do we have here?’ Liz asked, referring to the puppy.

‘
Oh, I found him in the woods and I figured as he was so young, I could train him to be a guard dog. He can come get me if someone throws a ball over the gate and I don’t see it, good idea, yeah? I’ve called him Toby,’ he said, putting the puppy down.

Immediately the small dog ran off and began playfully chasing a chicken round the converted playground among the growing vegetables
.

‘
Well I didn’t say he was trained yet. Toby stop that!’ He said, calling the dog to him.

Jackson was late middle age but the years of only just having enough food, had aged him badly. His wild grey beard
, barely hid his sunken cheeks and his thin greying hair hung limply to his shoulders. Liz thought the puppy would be good for Jackson. If he refused to join them at the Convent, at least Toby would give him some living companionship and who knew he may finally be able to let his wife go.

‘
Morning Jackson, how’s things?’ Charlie asked.

‘
Good, good Sergeant. No problems, but I think you’re about to ruin my day aren’t you,’ Jackson replied, crossing his arms.

‘
Now why would you say that,’ Charlie said, with a smile.

‘
Well why else would you be here, hmm?’

‘
Fair point… because there is a reason we’re here. We found a survivor who had a run in with some Raiders, they killed his brother and now a child’s missing, probably dead by now. So I thought we should warn you. Just in case.’

‘
Oh crap!’ Jackson said, as Toby played with one of his shoe laces, jumping back and forth with the lace in his mouth, ‘Why can’t those bastards give it a rest. Life’s a struggle enough as it is without them making it even worse for everyone else.’

Bending down he picked up Toby and began stroking him, trying to calm the boi
sterous puppy down.

‘
Well, thanks for the heads up. I’ll keep an eye out.’

‘
Oh, and we had a run in with an old retriever earlier,’ Charlie continued, ‘so there may be a pack running wild in the woods. I’d avoid any foraging trips just for the moment, unless you fancy becoming walking dog food.’

‘
You’ll keep them off, won’t you boy,’ Jackson said, smiling as he turned Toby so he could look the puppy in the face.

‘
Well, we just thought we’d let you know, so you could be prepared,’ Liz said, scratching Toby behind the ear.

Sometimes Jackson
’s attitude to his own safety could be a little reckless. Liz thought keeping Sarah decaying in the cupboard was holding him to a life that no longer existed, and if you had nothing tying you to the present, you had nothing left to lose.

‘
Anyway, we’d better be off,’ Charlie said reaching for the gate, ‘we’re making the rounds of the nearest Outposters, letting them all know… and don’t forget, if anything happens you’ll always be welcome at Lanherne.’

‘
Thanks, but think we’ll be ok here, won’t we Toby,’ Jackson said, opening the gate ‘Have a safe journey.’

Charlie and Liz joined Imran back in the cart as Jackson waved them off
, wishing them luck. As Delilah pulled the cart away from the converted school, Liz watched through one of the spy holes as Jackson returned to his haven, talking and stroking Toby all the while.

****

As morning turned into afternoon, Delilah pulled then through the maze of small twisting lanes, passing one scene of devastation after another. Small stone built cottages, that had once been part of the picture perfect countryside, now dilapidated and forgotten ruins. Gardens overgrown and wild, were now mere distorted reflections of their former selves. They passed through another small village. Like St Mawgan, scenes of a desperate locals fighting for their lives could be seen everywhere. The village green with its small painted cricket pavilion, once a tranquil haven from a busy world, was now a graveyard of forgotten bones. Here at least, some of the living had managed to kill many of the Dead before being overrun by their sheer numbers. Liz could see a small school bus had ploughed across the field, running down the Dead in its path, before smashing into a large Oak tree. The driver now nothing more than a shattered collection of weathered bones, hung through the smashed windscreen. Suffering severe head injuries, at least he hadn’t come back to add to the ranks of the Dead. They passed a building that had once been a small village shop, its large plate glass windows broken and covered in dark smears. The body of what had once been a woman, wrapped in the tattered remains of a shop uniform, lay impaled on the large shards of glass. Liz could tell from her caved in skull, that at some point someone had ended her Dead existence. Everywhere she looked she imagined the story behind each collection of bones. Their stories would never truly be known, only their ending was evident.

With each of Delilah
’s slow but sure footfalls they soon left the village with its tableaux of death far behind them. By the late afternoon they were nearing the next stop on the route Charlie had devised for them. Looking through the spy hole, Liz looked up at the large Georgian country house coming into view. As they made their way up the winding gravel road to the house, Liz wondered how anyone managed to feel safe here. With no high wall for protection, these Outposters had had to brick up all the windows and doors to the outside on the ground floor. She assumed each day they would check from the first floor windows for any of the Dead below and dispatch them from there. Liz didn’t like it, this place could so easily become a death trap if it became surrounded by too many of the Dead.  Their home could become little more than a house shaped island in a sea of death. Just like at Lanherne, the sweeping grounds had been turned over to growing food.

‘
Not much good having all your food down here if you’re trapped on the first floor,’ Liz mused.

‘
Preaching to the converted here Liz,’ Charlie said, ‘I’ve told them this isn’t ideal but I can’t force the Penhaligans to leave, now can I?’

As with
Jackson, Charlie had asked James and Louise Penhaligan to come to the safety of the Convent, if not for their own sake, then for the sake of their six year old son Alex and their eight year old daughter Naomi, but they had refused. Charlie pulled Delilah to a stop alongside the house. Opening the top hatch, Imran did a scan of the surrounding area, his bow taut and ready to fire. When he was sure there was no danger he gave the ‘all clear’ and Liz and Charlie quickly jumped down from the cart, grateful for a brief reprieve from the stifling heat within.

Leading to one of the open first floor windows
, a rope ladder swung slightly in the soft breeze. Liz went over to a small rope that went up the side of the house, disappearing inside through another open window. Pulling on it gently, she could hear the soft tinkle of windchimes coming from within. Like Jackson, they had had to improvise some way of those outside contacting them without the loud noise of a bell ringing. Pulling the cord again, Liz and Charlie waited for a face to appear above them. When neither of the Penhaligans appeared after five minutes Liz pulled the cord again.

‘
Perhaps we should see if they’re round the back of the house, in the garden?’ Liz suggested.

‘
Yeah…’ Charlie said, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. ‘I don’t like this, something’s a bit off here.’

Trusting Charlie
’s instincts, Liz drew her sword and prepared herself. Slowly the two of them made their way round to the back of the house, the crunching of gravel underfoot and bird song the only sounds breaking the silence of the warm afternoon. When they reached the corner Charlie held up his hand for Liz to stop. Crouching down with his back to the wall, Charlie checked around the corner, his training in Afghanistan flooding back to him.

‘
Damn!’ he said, standing up.

As Liz followed him into th
e garden she could see a body lying face down among the growing vegetables. She could tell, even from where she was standing, that Louise Penhaligan was dead, her blond hair matted with dried blood. Someone had taken a spade to the back of her head with such force that her skull was now crushed and misshapen. Charlie quietly walked over to the corpse of Mrs Penhaligan, his muscles ready to spring into action should danger appear. With Liz watching the area for an attack, Charlie knelt down and turned Louise’s body over. Checking her neck and arms for bit marks, Charlie pulled up her sleeves and lifted her T-shirt.

‘
Well, she hasn’t been bitten,’ Charlie said ‘so whoever did this, did it to stop her being alive rather than stop her from being Dead.’

‘
Shit, you think James went psycho?’ Liz said.

It had happened before. Peo
ple who had survived the horrors of the Dead for years suddenly cracked, killing those they loved.

‘
No, James doesn’t seem the sort. He may be stubborn but I can’t see him doing this…  and not leaving her here like this to become carrion for the dogs and foxes either.’ Charlie stood up, looking round the garden ‘Let’s have a scout round out here first, and, if we see no sign of them we’ll have to check the house.’

Liz turned to look up at the dark windows of the large hous
e. She didn’t relish having to search the unknown house room by room.

Finding nothing else in the ga
rden apart from some broken plants, the evidence of the struggle Louise had put up against her attacker, Liz and Charlie returned to the front of the house to fill Imran in on what they had found.

Two
of the Dead had stumbled along the driveway while Charlie and Liz had been at the back of the house. Silently and with his usual accuracy, Imran had dealt with them both, his arrows flying true and ending their unnatural existence.