‘As you know by now, Lissa and her daughter were not what they seemed,’ he began, looking from one face to the next. ‘Thanks to Sister Rebecca, we now know her real name is Mary Donaldson.’
With this, Patrick heard Sister Rebecca choke back a sob.
‘You couldn’t have known what they would do,’ Helen said softly, reaching across to hold the old woman’s hand.
‘But if only I’d remembered sooner,’ she replied, ‘it’s my fault…’
‘No!’ said Patrick, his strong voice booming around the Refectory. ‘None of this is any of our faults, and I don’t want anyone thinking like that. We need to hold it together; we need to keep strong as a community. If we let this break us, then we’ll fall apart bit by bit, and if that happens, then they really have won, and I won’t have that.’
‘He’s right,’ added Liz, pushing herself away from the bench to stand, ‘the only people to blame here are Mary and her daughter. We offered them the chance to live a life safe from the Dead, and look how they repaid us.’
‘For those of you who may not have heard,’ Patrick interrupted, knowing what he was about to say would be unknown to some of the people in the room, and it should really come from him, ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news. Not only did they attack Avery and Alice, and blow a hole in the wall when they left but, well, I’m afraid they also killed Nadine.’
A hushed silence met his words as each of the members of Lanherne took in his words.
‘Those fucking bastards,’ spat Rich, taking his wife’s hand in his own.
‘My God! They had no idea she wouldn’t come back as one of the Dead,’ whispered Niki, looking back at her husband with tears in her eyes, ‘so as far as they were concerned, they were killing us all, weren’t they?’
‘I think we have to assume that, yes,’ continued Patrick, hearing Niki’s words. ‘They came here for a precise reason and didn’t care who got killed in the process.’
‘But why,’ asked William, ‘it’s been over a year since their brother, father, or whoever he was, was killed when he was attacking Liz. Why wait until now?’
‘Charlie.’ Patrick replied, looking about the room. ‘They came to get Charlie.’
‘What?’ said Duncan, not seeing the connection.
‘Obviously, when Steve’s friend, Matt, returned to the Military base, they didn’t believe that the convoy being overrun by the Dead was purely coincidental,’ Patrick continued. ‘Where else would the Donaldson’s get explosives and motorbikes? It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. Captain Cardin and his scientists have somehow got the Donaldson clan to do their dirty work for them.’
‘And… and did they?’ asked Sister Claire in a soft voice.
‘Yes, I’m afraid they did.’ replied Patrick, looking over at the old nun clutching her rosary beads tightly in her hand.
‘But we’re going to get him back,’ said Phil matter-of-factly, standing to look about the room, his very stature giving his words strength.
‘Yes,’ agreed Patrick, tapping a point on the map behind him, ‘and at least we have an idea where they’re headed.’
‘With the motorbikes, they’ve got a head start on us,’ said Phil, moving over to look at the large map, ‘but if we leave at first light, we should be able to get there by this afternoon if we take this direct route.’
‘No, Phil, it’s too risky,’ interrupted Helen, seeing the route his finger had traced, ‘that’ll take you through a red zone. We stay clear of the red zones, that’s the rule. There are just too many of the Dead there.’
‘We don’t have much choice,’ Phil replied turning to look at Helen, ‘if we’re to have any chance of catching up with them before they hand over Charlie to the soldiers, we’ve got to go this way.’
‘He’s right, Helen,’ added Patrick, seeing the concern in his wife’s eyes. ‘It’s the only chance we have.’
‘And I suppose you’re one of the ones taking that chance?’ she replied softly, already knowing his answer.
With a simple nod, he confirmed what she knew. Despite having his own wife and daughter to care for, Patrick would never be able to turn his back on those who needed his help, even if it meant putting his own life at risk. Deep down, she wanted to demand he stay, demand he let someone else go in his stead, but she knew she could not. For the very reason that made her love him so much, she knew he would go.
‘I’m coming with you,’ said Imran, rising to stand next to Liz.
‘Me too,’ added Liz.
‘No, Liz, I think you should stay,’ said Patrick, hoping he wasn’t going to have an argument on his hands. ‘Alice is going to need you here and I think and if he’s willing, Steve should come. If the soldiers are back in the mix, we’ll need his expertise.’
‘Sure, I’m in,’ said Steve from across the room, where he sat with his arm around Penny. ‘Anything to put a spoke in that bastard Cardin’s wheels.’
Patrick could see the conflicting desires in Liz’s eyes. On one hand, was her desire to help get Charlie back, and Patrick didn’t deny her skills with her blade, she would certainly make things easier for them, especially now that they would be going through a red zone. While on the other hand, she knew when she came round, Alice would need her support. Eventually, Liz simply nodded. They had chosen Patrick as their leader and she realised now was not the time to undermine his decisions.
‘So that settles it then,’ Patrick said to the gathered community. ‘Steve, Imran, Phil, and myself, will be leaving at first light. Penny, Lars, Gabe, can you prepare the cart, and Rich, can you load us up with the weaponry we’ll need. We’ve got about four or five hours until sun up.’
‘Get Delilah warmed up,’ Liz added, turning to Gabe before he left the room, ‘she’s less likely to be spooked by a high concentration of the Dead.’
With the meeting over and some jobs allocated, conversations began around the room. Helen walked up to Patrick and took his hands in hers.
‘Why couldn’t you be a little less perfect for once in your life,’ she whispered, pulling him closer to kiss him.
‘It’s a terrible flaw I have,’ he said smiling, as his lips met hers.
As he pulled away from her embrace, he looked into her eyes and spoke again.
‘I love you, you do know that,’ he said softly, ‘but I have to do this. You know I do.’
‘I know,’ she answered, reaching up gently to touch the scar on his face, a permanent reminder how he had fought for her, ‘you always do.’
‘Duncan,’ Patrick finally said, after stealing a second kiss from Helen, ‘I need you to come up with a permanent solution to that gap in the wall as soon as possible. That cart is too precious to waste just blocking a hole, and there’s a new pig sty to build too.’
Liz walked over to one of the tall windows in the Refectory, lost in her own thoughts, and watched the flicker of torches in the courtyard below. She knew as soon as the first rays of sunlight broke through the dark sky, Imran would be gone, and already she could feel the tense knot of loss and worry tightening inside her. It was always this way. They all knew it was always dangerous to venture beyond of the safe walls of the convent, knowing at any point, someone you loved could be taken from you by the thousand and one horrors that stalked the countryside. Now one more horror had returned to them, waiting for them, unseen in the shadows; just one more monster with no regard for life. Those from the base did not care who died or what sorrow they left behind them, as long as they got what they desired, but not this time. This time they had taken on more than they had counted for. These soldiers and scientists had underestimated those at Lanherne, and Liz knew they would pay dearly for this mistake.
***
‘Crap,’ mumbled Matt to himself, tapping at the fuel gauge.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Karen, pulling aside her ear protectors.
Matt gave the dial a second tap and when nothing happened, he turned to his sister, his eyebrows drawn together in concern as he ch
ewed idly at his lip.
‘We’re getting through fuel a lot quicker than I thought we would,’ he shouted over the noise of the spinning blades above him.
‘But we’ve got enough to get there?’ she shouted back, suddenly conscious of the thousands of walking corpses that must be in the streets below them.
Matt just looked at her.
They had been flying for the best part of an hour and a half now, and they had just passed over a small town. Even in the dim moonlight, she had seen the mass of ghostly torn faces turn towards them. Thankfully, they were high enough not to see the horrific condition of those below them in detail, but Karen didn’t actually need to see the Dead to feel her breath quickening and her heart beat racing in her chest. She was petrified, and any details she couldn’t see, her imagination happily filled in for her.
‘Well?’ she repeated, the alarm evident in her voice, as she reached for her brother’s arm. ‘Have we got enough to get to the Convent or not?’
‘I don’t know, Karen,’ he finally said, ‘I don’t know what’s happening, we shouldn’t be using it this quickly, unless…’
‘Unless what?’ Karen asked, terrified at what he may say.
‘Unless one of the squad got a lucky shot and punctured our fuel tank,’ he replied.
‘Wouldn’t we have just exploded if that was the case?’ said Karen, fighting to keep her eyes from drifting to the passing countryside below her and the Dead that inhabited it.
‘Not necessarily,’ Matt called back. ‘If they just nicked the tank, it wouldn’t have made a spark to ignite the fuel and it would explain the extra drain on our fuel.’
‘So what do we do?’ she asked, resorting to her childhood habit of biting her fingernails when she was nervous.
‘Here, open this.’ Matt replied, handing her a folded map.
Glancing down at one of the dials and using that as their average rate of knots, Matt worked out how far they had come.
‘We’re about here,’ he said, pointing as he quickly glanced over to the map Karen had spread out over her lap, ‘and if we’re lucky, we’ll get to about here somewhere.’
‘But that’s at least four or five miles away from the Convent, what the fuck are we going to do?’ she exclaimed.
‘I don’t know,’ Matt replied, his own fear mirroring hers, ‘we can always jog if we have to, we’re armed, we should be alright.’
‘Fuck, we’re going to get our arses eaten off by a horde of the corpses and you suggest a jog,’ said Karen, replacing her ear protectors and turning away from Matt as fearful tears came to her eyes.
‘Karen, it’s not my fault,’ Matt said, reaching for her when he noticed the map was shaking in her hands, ‘Karen, it’ll be okay, Kaz…’
‘What have we done?’ Karen said turning back to her brother, ‘My God, Matt. What the fuck have we done?’
‘The only thing we could.’ He simply said, turning back to look out at the star spotted dark sky about them. ‘We’ll make it, I promise.’
An hour later, a loud knocking sound came from the engine behind them and they suddenly dipped to one side. Karen looked over at Matt as he tried to gain control of the helicopter, but from the abrupt dropping sensation she could feel in the pit of her stomach, she knew they were losing height far too fast.
‘Shit,’ said Matt, tapping the fuel dial again, ‘hold on!’
With another jarring bang, something vital within the engine seized up, sending the helicopter into a spinning descent. Karen screamed as she was thrown against the cabin door.
‘Matt!’ she screamed, digging her fingers painfully deep into the side of her seat.
‘Hold on,’ he shouted, reaching his arm across in front of her, ‘we’re going to…’
But Matt didn’t need to say the last word, as with horror, Karen saw the shapes of the dark trees rushing up to meet them. With a terrified scream, Karen threw her arms in front of her face and then in an explosion of glass, branches and leaves, the small helicopter was torn to pieces. The last thing she saw as she felt the trickle of blood coming from her forehead, was the tail boom of the helicopter flying past her cabin door window and smashing against another large oak tree.
‘Matt…’ she managed to mumble, fighting to stay conscious as the blackness threatened to envelope her.
But Matt did not answer her. Only the sound of sparking electrics and the screeching of the shattered rotary blades, as they wound down, met her call. Finally, the beating of her own heart was the only other sound she could hear, that and the distant moaning of the Dead. And when she could fight no longer to keep her eyes open, she prayed she would not be torn back from her dark oblivion by the snapping teeth and bloody hands she knew awaited her.
***
The sky above them had started to take on the soft dusky pink of dawn, when, as a group, the Lanherne community gathered in the courtyard to bid farewell to Patrick, Steve, Phil, and Imran. A chilly spring mist had greeted them that morning, covering everything in small droplets of dew, giving the air a clean freshness. All traces of the previous night’s acrid fumes from the fire had dissipated, to leave just a slight smoky undertone to the natural smell of growing plants in damp earth.
‘I love you,’ Imran said softly, pulling Liz into his arms, ‘and tell Alice not to worry, we’ll get Charlie back, I promise.’
‘You can’t make that promise,’ Liz replied, looking up into his deep beautiful eyes. ‘Just come back alive, okay, I need you.’
Imran bent his head down and with his hand resting on her cheek, kissed Liz lovingly on the lips.
‘I’ll do my best,’ he replied, when his lips finally left hers.
‘Imran, we should be going,’ said Phil, his large hand resting lightly on the younger man’s shoulder.
‘What, yeah, coming,’ Imran replied, glancing over his shoulder.
‘And you’ll take care of your sister and Saleana for me while I’m gone, won’t you, Squirt?’ Imran said, kneeling down to pull Anne into a tight hug.
Anne simply nodded, doing her best to hold back the heavy tears that threatened to fall.
Standing, he took Liz’s hand in his and kissed her fingers.
‘Watch for me in your dreams,’ he whispered.
As if wishing to prolong their contact until the very last moment, Liz’s fingers lingered in Imran’s, as he turned to climb up into the cart. Finally, when his fingers slipped from hers, her hand was left hovering mid-air, already missing his warm touch.
‘They will come back to us, Liz,’ said Helen, stating it as fact rather than a hopeful statement, as she repositioned Jasmine onto her hip so she could slip her arm over Liz’s shoulder.
Liz gave Helen a sideways glance. Helen had no right to say such words. Too much could go wrong beyond the safety of the convent’s walls, and Liz knew the best they could do was hope. Liz’s hand moved to rest on the top of Anne’s head and she gently stroked her soft, blonde, curly hair. From Anne’s ragged breathing, Liz could tell her sister was holding back her tears no longer.
‘Is it clear?’ called Patrick, up to Damien on the walkway.
Damien gave the thumbs up and began to turn the winch that opened the inner main gate.
‘If everything goes well we should be back in a few days,’ called Patrick to the assembled crowd, ‘and Rich, make sure you keep the key to the armoury on you at all times, just in case.’
Rich nodded and pulled out the chain from around his neck on which the key to the gun cupboard dangled. They had decided to leave at Lanherne, most of the weaponry they had salvaged from their previous run in with the soldiers, but on Steve’s insistence, he had given Rich, Cam, Helen, William, Penny, and Jen, a quick refresher course on how to use the various guns and rifles without killing themselves in the process, just in case. He had also insisted that they take in the cart, four of the purloined assault rifles, one for each of them, with enough ammunition to even up the fight, should there be one.
‘I hope you’re not
going get trigger happy with that thing,’ said Phil, ten minutes later as he sat watching Steve opposite him double checking the workings and sight barrel on his assault rifle. ‘They may be good for dealing with the Dead at a distance, but it’ll only attract more of the bastards.’
‘It may not be the Dead we have to worry about,’ replied Steve, knowing, if they wanted to get Charlie back, it was more than likely that they may have to play hard, if they wanted to take on Cardin’s men and win.
‘You need to develop your skills with something a little more, organic,’ Imran added, tapping his quiver of arrows, ‘that ammunition’s not going to last for ever.’
‘Hey, I haven’t been out here as long as you lot,’ Steve protested, putting the rifle aside, ‘you’ve had eight years to hone your skills, I…’
Suddenly, the cart jolted to one side, as one of the wheels dipped into a particularly deep pothole.
‘Whoa!’ said Phil bracing himself against the side of the cart.
‘Sorry,’ said Patrick, glancing back to his companions from his seat behind Delilah’s reins, ‘it must have had some subsidence hidden under a thin crust and our weight broke through.’
‘Right, that’s it,’ Phil whispered, ‘soon as we get back, we need to go on a hunt for some gravel to fill these holes up.’
‘Do you think any cement we find would be usable after all these years,’ Imran quietly asked. ‘I don’t mean for the road, but I assume Duncan is going to need something to fix that bloody great hole in the wall.’
They continued like this for the next half an hour, using these whispered, mostly needless, conversations to fill the silence that threatened to descend upon them, a silence that only gave them to time to think about what they had left behind and more importantly, what they would find ahead of them.
***
Karen’s eyes slowly flickered open and as her mind struggled to process what had happened, she realised she was slumped over with her head resting on the edge of the helicopter’s control panel, looking down into the foot-well. There was a heavy pounding in her head and even as she tried to shake her disorientation, she watched a single droplet of blood pooling at the tip of her nose and fall to a growing bloodstain by her right foot.
Last Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 3) Page 10