Six Days With the Dead (3 page)

When the b
rothers had joined the convoy they had been angry and trusted no one but Charlie saw something in the boys that could be moulded, a way to use their anger for the good of all. He gave them the discipline to use their rage to help clear areas of the Dead. The brothers soon became valuable members of the convoy and all could trust their swift arrows to protect them. Over time Imran had slowly opened up to Liz and soon their simple friendship had blossomed into something deeper. Something they both needed to mend that part of them that had been shattered by the Dead.

‘
No problem Lizzy,’ he smiled ‘Imran went out with Charlie at first light. They’ve gone to check out the village, see if Crazy Jackson needs anything and knowing those two, clear out some of the wandering dead on the way. He should be back in a few hours… sure you can wait that long for a smooch, eh Lizzy.’

He had grow
n close to Liz and loved her like the sister he had lost. That his brother could find a small amount of happiness after all that had happened gave him hope that maybe, just maybe life wasn’t all bad now.

‘
Yeh, sure, I think I’ll be able to cope,’ Liz replied, ‘Anyway, Alice and I have to get up on the walkway, we’re on shift and with Damien and Sally still up there, I’m surprised we weren’t half eaten in our beds this morning,’ She jokingly punched his arm, as she and Alice carried on walking, ‘Oh, you better get down to the kitchen, Sister Rebecca’s got some porridge on the go.’

‘
Thanks, keep us safe up there. Tell those two I’ll eat their share if they don’t hurry up.’ He called after her, reaching for the door.

Liz and Alice continued on their way throu
gh the vegetable garden. Every area in the garden had been turned over to food production to feed the Sisters and the refugees they had taken in a year ago. With the surrounding fields also providing for them, those staying in the Convent had the luxury of full stomachs every night. They had also cleared many of the local areas of the wandering Dead so they could work the fields in relative safety. Those on watch duty now had to deal with only a few of the walkers each day. Thankfully, the Dead didn’t really go looking for the living as such but would generally stay where they died. They would wait patiently, only moving if they saw the living. Then they would follow relentlessly, reaching for the flesh that had caught their attention. If their prey escaped them, the Dead would become Wanderers, walking with no purpose, aimlessly putting one put foot in front of the other forever. These were the Dead that could appear out of nowhere at any moment. They blighted the small communities dotted around the Cornish countryside, bringing the infection back again and again to haunt the living. Liz thought that if the Dead ever developed a pack mentality that acted with a purpose, then humanity would really be in trouble. She prayed continually that would never happen.

Liz and Alice made their way to the ladder that led up to the walkway that circled the high convent walls.

‘How much do you want to bet those two aren’t even looking out over the wall?’ Alice asked.

‘
I somehow think I’d lose that bet,’ Liz replied, ‘Charlie’s going to have a word with those two. Perhaps we could give them some sort of punishment. What do you think?’

‘
How about extra toilet duty? That should cool them off a bit.’ Alice suggested, as they reached the top of the ladder.

As they had both suspected, Sally and Damian were not taking their duty seriously. Arms folded and foot tapping with frustration
, Liz watched the two kissing each other before she spoke.

‘
Oh for God’s sake you two, can’t you be trusted for just a few hours to keep watch?’ Liz was angry and they could tell. More than once she had been forced to flee a community that had been overrun by the Dead because someone had screwed up.

‘
Sorry, Liz. Honestly it won’t happen again.’ Sally said, having the good grace to at least look embarrassed, as she re-buttoned her shirt, which was more than could be said for Damian.

‘
Calm down Liz, nothing happened. We’re still all alive.’ he said, with typical adolescent bravado.

Liz walked up to him and with a quick practiced move
ment, landed a clenched fist on his jaw. Damian, landing on his backside looked up at her, shocked.

‘
Hey! What gives?’

‘
What gives! I tell you what gives, you randy arsehole. When lives are in the hands of those on watch up here, we can’t afford you screwing around getting your jollies when you’re supposed to be watching out for the Dead.’ Liz was almost shaking with anger, thinking of the possible danger they had put Anne in, ‘Look, we’ve got a good thing here in the Convent and if you don’t want to help keep it all running then perhaps it’s time you moved on?’

She could see the panic in his eyes. The last six months had been the safest he had felt in years and he really didn
’t want to be forced to leave.

‘
No, I’m sorry Liz, please, I’ll do my bit. Don’t make me go back out there.’ He said, getting up.

‘
Well just stop pissing around then. We’ve all got to work together here to survive and if we can’t rely on each other then it’s all going to get shitty, real quick.’ she replied, as Damian finally hang his head in remorse.

Alice glancing over the wall, tutted.

‘Looks like we’ve got company after all, guys,’ she said, pointing at the base of the wall with her bat.

The other three le
ant over the rail, seeing what Alice had noticed.

There
, below them, were two of the Dead. Attracted by their argument, they reached their decaying hands to them in desperation. The larger of the two had once been a man, probably in his forties, Liz guessed. He must have been infected around six months ago from his mottled greying pallor and state of slow decomposition. The lower half of his face had been ripped away by his hungry attacker, leaving a dark clotted mass of broken teeth and torn flesh. Part of his scalp had also been torn, showing the yellowing skull beneath. Perhaps someone he himself had then gone onto attack had tried to put him down but the attempt had been unsuccessful. A strip of dry leathery skin now hung down over his left ear, a testament to the valiant but fruitless efforts of someone in their last moments. His tattered shirt was darkly stained with his own long dried blood and in areas, putrid puss had leaked from his decaying body leaving oily smears of filth. Darkly sunken eyes looked up at them, the usual milky film, barely hiding an imploring hunger that would burn unceasingly.

But it was the other figure that made Liz
’s heart sink. Looking to be no older than Anne, the Dead child was as equally grotesque as her taller counterpart. Naked, apart from her underwear and a single sock, her small sunken torso was covered in bite marks. A clear indication that this poor creature had been taken in a most horrific manner. One arm, its hand missing entirely, had been stripped down to the bone at the wrist. Her once blond hair hung lank and thin, partially covering her face. On one side of her head sat a small clip with a ladybird motif. Liz could not take her eyes away from the clip. Like a window into the Dead child’s life, it was a reminder that this horror had once been loved and cared for, as Liz had been. What had this creature’s parents done to keep their child safe in a world full of monsters. Was the Dead man actually her father, somehow tied to the child even in death. Of course, Liz would never know who they had been and what story they had to tell but one thing was certain, they would find release today. 

‘
Right, lets do this.’ Liz said, reaching for one of the leather neck protectors hanging on the pegs with the gauntlets.

The Dead were fond of diving for exposed necks and hands, so they had made
leather neck coverings that buckled all the way from the shoulder to the jaw line. They were a little un-comfortable if you had to wear them for a long time but Liz herself had been saved by this layer of leather between herself and the Dead more than once.

‘
Do you want me to get Mohammad? With his bow he can sort this out without going out there.’ Sally asked, making her way to the ladder. 

‘
No, Alice and I can handle this. Just stay up here until we’re done, just in case.’ Liz replied, as Alice handed her a pair of gloves.  

‘
You ready?’ Alice said, as she finished doing up her final buckle.

Nodding, Liz walked
down the walkway. On the count of three the two women each threw over the wall a rope ladder. Liz hooking her leg over the top of the wall, removed her sword in one smooth motion. At this sign Alice started shouting and waving her arms to gain the attention of the Dead below. Once Liz had reached the bottom, she too then began to shout to draw their attention allowing Alice to descend her ladder.

The creature that had once been a man turned towards Alice. He raised his claw like hands to her as he let out a low dry moan. Pai
nfully dragging one foot after another, he moved toward her, his stiff dead limbs, fighting against their unnatural movement. At such close range the smell was appalling. Rancid and cloying it had become a foul taste in her mouth. Alice spat as she tested the weight and balance of her bat in her hands. Once he was within an arm’s reach she prepared herself to strike. Her bat held back and high, she swung forward with as much power as she could. At that precise moment the man lost his footing, slipping slightly on the gravelly earth. The bat still in motion, missed the desired skull shot and instead impacted with force on what was left of his jaw. Bone and dried skin splintered and broke. Hanging there at a grotesque angle his jaw, attached now by only a few strips of ligament on one side, moved as the Dead man rocked back and forth re-gaining his balance. Seemingly unaware that the lower half of his face was all but gone, he still reached for Alice desperate to bite into her living flesh. Alice, pushing against his chest with the end of her bat, gave herself the room she needed to swing again. This time using an overhand motion, she brought the bat smashing down on the front of his head. With a dull ‘thunk’ his skull shattered, as the bat destroyed the front section of the brain. To be sure Alice pulled back preparing to hit him again but she had been fortunate this time, with his arms falling to his sides finally motionless, the Dead man slumped first to his knees and then fell face forward on the ground. Satisfied he was no more, Alice glanced over at Liz.

Kicking her legs from under her, Liz had also knocked the small girl to the floor. Flipping her onto her stomach so she wouldn
’t have to look into its dead eyes, she sat on its back pinning it beneath her. The child moaned pitifully and struggled to turn its head to get to Liz. With its jaw snapping hopefully for a mouthful of blood and flesh, Liz held her sword with the point above the child skull. She looked up at Alice.

‘
God, this is a shitty way to live.’ She said.

‘
I know.’ Alice replied, with sadness in her voice.

Liz looked back down at what
had once been an innocent child, now just a Dead thing, forever tormented by hunger.

‘
I’m sorry,’ she said, as her sword plunged into the back of the girl’s skull and brain.

Instantl
y the struggles stopped and the Dead child was still. Letting out a shuddering breath Liz slowly stood up.

‘
Everything OK?’ Damian called from the walkway.

‘
No, not really.’ Liz said, quietly to herself. Her eyes going back to the small tarnished ladybird clip now caked in dark dead blood.

‘
I’ll find out who’s on clean-up to take them over to the fire pit.’ Damian said, disappearing from view.

They would store the corpses in a pit they had dug some distance away from the convent. Once a month
, one of the nuns would come out with a few of the refugees for protection and pray for the passing of the Dead. They would then set the pit alight, the fire consuming all of the decayed flesh within a few hours. This way they only had to deal with the smell of burning bodies monthly rather than whenever the need actually arose.

Liz cleaned off her blade on some grass and slid it back into its sheath until it clicke
d home.

‘
Great way to start a day.’ she said, while she and Alice climbed back up the rope ladder, over the high wall and back onto the walkway. Sally had followed Damian into the main area of the convent leaving Alice and Liz to continue with their shift.

‘
You got something for me young ladies?’ A voice called up to them from below.

Looking down Liz saw that Phil had come to take away the bodies. Phil had been
a butcher before the dead rose so he was used to handling lifeless flesh. At forty-seven he had kept himself in good shape. His thick arms and blocky torso were ideal for lifting the corpses into the wheelbarrow he pushed in front of him. He was a bit gruff and with his shaved head and close cropped beard, he could appear a little intimidating to those who didn’t know him but Liz knew there was a kind soul hidden beneath.

His partner, David
, had died two years ago when the refugees had been looking for supplies in an isolated farm house. A staircase had collapsed, dropping him through to a basement below. Falling badly, he’d ruptured something inside and died of internal bleeding. Phil had held David in his arms right to the end and then in a final act of love, had forced his knife through the ear canal into the brain.