Patricia was little more than a skeleton, with patches of flesh still clinging to bones. Francis chewed contently on her ankle, not caring that Tina was watching him. She didn’t feel as repulsed as she thought she should have been. It intrigued her. Tina sniffed the air, and it smelled good.
“Please help us, please, please!” the female voice from upstairs was desperate.
Tina snapped out of her trance and slowly edged out of the kitchen and made her way upstairs. The door was crudely bolted shut, a poor DIY job completed in a hurry. It succeeded in its task of keeping the girls inside by its size and strength rather than competence. She slid the bolt back, and the door flung open, Eve swung wildly with the tennis racket, missing Tina completely.
“Where is he?” Eve looked around desperately.
“He’s in the kitchen, you need to be quick,” Tina whispered, afraid they’d already made too much noise.
Eve took her sister by her arm and lead her down the stairs, Tina held back, not sure whether to join the escape or the kitchen feast. The front door was close, they were nearly free until Claire screamed, the sight of her butchered mother was too much to hold back. It looked up at them with its angry eyes, the grey skin stained with their mothers’ blood, it growled showing broken teeth jammed with flesh. This monster was no longer Francis, this creature not their father. It charged them, covering the ground too quickly for the girls to react. The creature knocked Claire to the floor, catching one of her flailing arms and biting down hard on her wrist, her fresh meat far more appetising than the stale body in the kitchen. Eve struck out with the tennis racket, landing a clean blow on the side of his head with the racket side on but failing to stop him. Repeated strikes knocked the creature to the floor, its own grey blood dripping from several small wounds on its head. Claire cried as she was helped to her feet, Eve looked back to Tina.
“Go, I’ll be all right.” Tina was hungry.
“Are your fucking crazy?” Eve screamed, desperate to get out but not being able to just leave their saviour.
“I think it’s too late. Go, now!” Tina could smell Claire’s wound and it was making her mouth water.
Eve didn’t need telling again. She threw Claire out of the door and dashed out, slamming it shut behind them. The pair didn’t dare stop to catch their breath or try to understand what was happening; they needed help.
Tina walked down the stairs and stood over Francis. What had he done to her? She walked past him to the kitchen. There wasn’t much meat left, but she had to have a taste. Tina sat herself on the floor and lifted the chewed leg, finding a piece of untouched meat. She gave it a gentle lick, still unsure of what she was doing. It tasted good; it tasted right. She followed up with a small nibble, then a big bite, and quickly she greedily tore meat off, swallowing it whole. The relief, finally she felt satisfied.
* * *
Most of the village were still asleep or just beginning to stir. There was a level of peace that only a village in the heart of the countryside could bring. Eve had her arm around Claire as they jogged down the small high street, desperate for any sign of someone who may help. The village store’s light was on and that was good enough, Eve picked up the pace helping her sister keep up.
Suzie had run the shop for over twenty years. When she first took over, you could get anything from a pint of milk to a pickaxe handle. Now it was little more than a glorified newsagent. A mixture of the internet, large out-of-town stores and a different modern villager made the more niche items unprofitable to stock. Newspapers, magazines and sweets were her mainstay now. A large chain branding opened up an avenue of discounted stock that lacked quality but was priced correctly. As she did every day, she had headed downstairs from her flat above the shop to sort out the day’s papers, but unusually they weren’t there. She had already sent the paper boy home, with the promise of a call as soon as the papers finally arrived. Suzie put the kettle on and gave the store a quick sweep, eager to keep busy.
The door swung open, Eve and Claire rushed in, closing the door behind them, with Eve bolting it closed.
“Girls, whatever is the matter?” Suzie hadn’t expected customers so early. Then she saw the blood dripping from Claire’s wrist. “My Lord, come over here and we’ll get you looked at,” Suzie produced a small first aid kit.
“Call the police, Mum, he’s killed Mum!” Eve became frantic. She had done what she needed to get them to safety, and now she allowed herself a minor freak out.
“Claire, are you okay? Does it hurt?” Suzie looked at the wound. A small chunk of flesh was missing, but it didn’t appear to be bleeding as much as she thought it would.
“It did, but it’s more of a tingling sensation.” Claire opened and closed her fist, no discomfort and no loss of movement.
Suzie placed a bandage over the wound. “Eve, snap out of it, you’re not done yet. Use the phone behind the counter and call 999, tell them we need an ambulance and the police.” She tied off the bandage. It wasn’t her best work, but it would hold until the paramedics arrived.
Eve did as instructed but had a confused look on her face. “The line’s busy.”
Suzie patted herself down and pulled out her mobile phone. It was an old dumb phone, but it made calls and never let her down, that’s all she wanted. Carefully, she thumbed in the emergency number on the small, raised buttons and placed the phone to her ear. “That’s odd, I don’t have any service.”
They all paused for a moment, not sure what their next move should be. Two police cars disturbed the peace as they speeded through the village, sirens blaring. Any hope they were here to help were dashed when they carried on and out of the other side of the village.
“What is going on?” Suzie put her arm around the girls, trying to offer comfort.
* * *
Mackland’s dairy farm had been used to early starts. The latest machinery made milking time much less labour intensive, but John and his son Mark were still up every morning at 04:30 tending to their herd. John was in his early fifties and had been a dairy farmer all his life, taking over from his father. Mark was in his early twenties, physically strong and bright. If it wasn’t for his love of farming, he could have done anything he wanted with his life. Today milk wasn’t their concern, they had been following the news, they’d seen the images on the TV and they were securing their cattle. John didn’t want to leave his wife alone, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew her way around a shotgun and they would not waste any time. The news broadcasts had been unclear, a mass hysteria and violent attacks were shown, but John had no idea what to expect. If things continued to deteriorate, he knew the trouble would quickly spread to the countryside, desperate people looking for food and shelter, or worse, the maniacs bringing chaos with them. Moving the herd to the old barn that was closer to the farmhouse, they could at least monitor them and not have to venture too far away to tend to them. The old barn was much smaller than the new one, it was barely habitable but they had spent the early hours cleaning it out and preparing it before fetching the herd. The new barn was only a little further out and Mark wasn’t sure he saw the point of the task, but he knew better than to question the experience and knowledge of his father.
“Come on, son, we’re done here.” John bolted the gate shut and approached Mark, who was looking into the distance.
“Do you see that?” Mark was concentrating as John stood next to him looking out over the fields. “Are those jets?”
“Could be. Come on, let’s get back to your mother,” John lead the way, distracted, Mark followed close behind. “We’ll move everything we need upstairs, get the shotguns, rifles and ammunition. Get the Land Rover tucked away, keep the Shogun out front ready to go.” John was playing through everything they needed to do in his head and spitting out random instructions to his son. They could have days, or weeks, they could have just hours. They were in good shape, but the main road passed close to the farm. That made John nervous. “Get the old tractor and put it in front of the gate before yo
u lock it.”
“Dad, it’ll be okay, won’t it?” The men walked towards the courtyard.
“It’ll be fine, son, but the Mackland’s have worked too hard and for too many generations for us to be the ones who didn’t do what was needed.” John had always taken responsibility for the farm since he took it over from his father. He wanted his son to carry on after him and hand the farm to future generations. If his grandfather had kept the farm going during wartime, he would be damn sure he wouldn’t lose it because of a few idiots causing trouble in the towns.
As they approached the front door of the house, a convoy of army trucks rattled passed on the main road. A dozen in total, supplemented with a handful of Land Rovers and a Scimitar armoured fighting vehicle keeping up at the rear. A few tired looking faces peered out of the back of the trucks, the soldiers dragged from their beds earlier than normal, unsure of what they were heading into.
“Make sure we keep the doors locked.” John feared this wasn’t just a problem for the towns and cities. Seeing the soldiers confirmed he was right to be cautious.
* * *
The village was quiet, most had heard the news and heeded the warning to stay inside. Many worried faces appeared at the windows of cottages, peering out to see what was happening. Edward, Rose and Edith had the radio on waiting for news, but none was forthcoming.
“This is all nonsense, I’m going back home.” Edith was fed-up of waiting, her house was close and she couldn’t see the harm popping back.
“Edith, don’t you dare. This is serious.” Rose thought she was being stubborn and foolish. This wasn’t the time for either.
“I don’t mind staying here, but if I’m going to do so, I want a few things.” Edith realised her tone hadn’t been great and may have offended her hosts.
“I’ll come with you then,” Edward offered as he wanted to stretch his legs and get out too. Whatever the issue, it wasn’t here yet. Maybe they should use the time to get a few things in. He and Edith were already at the front door getting their shoes and coats on. “Lock the door behind us dear, we won’t be long.”
“Please don’t, not until help comes.” Rose was even more worried with the prospect of Edward going outside.
“It’ll be fine, we’ll shuffle over to Edith’s, pick up a few things and then come straight back home. Get a pot of tea ready and break out the Garibaldi’s.” Edward gave Rose a peck on the cheek and with that, left with Edith.
They moved as fast as their aged limbs would carry them, nervously looking around, sure they wouldn’t see anything, scared that they might. They were just as worried a police officer might appear from nowhere and give them a telling off as a crazed maniac might attack. Edith’s small bungalow was only ten houses down the street, but it felt like ten miles. Any bravado shown in the house was gone, the elderly pair staying close to each other, aware of every flapping wood pigeon, rustle of leaves or twitch of a net curtain.
From inside the village store, Eve was first to spot the pensioners as they made their way down the high street, bringing them to Suzie’s attention.
“Those old fools, Jesus.” Suzie started waving to get their attention, but they’d already passed the shop.
“I’ll go to them.” Eve had calmed since her ordeal at the hands of her father, and Claire appeared to be okay. The wound to her wrist didn’t bleed, a viscous grey residue covered it, seemingly preventing further blood loss. She was at ease, but tired and hot. Suzie suggested it could be infected, but when the doctors gave her antibiotics, she’d be fine.
“Be careful, and get them off the street.” Suzie knew Eve was a smart and competent girl, she wouldn’t take any risks after what she’d gone through. Suzie unbolted the door and Eve wasted no time running out, tennis racket in hand.
She closed on the pair in seconds, startling them as they turned to see her approach.
“Jesus Christ, where the hell did you come from?” Edward’s breath had nearly all been taken from his lungs.
“It’s not safe, you need to get back inside.” Eve suddenly realised how close they were to her home, to her father. “Please, let’s go.”
“I’m sorry, I just need a few things from home.” Edith was unsure, but they were nearly at her home, she’d only be a few minutes.
“No! Come with me right now!” Eve stated as sternly as possible without actually shouting. Why didn’t these pensioners understand her?
Three helicopters appeared from nowhere, flying over their heads at a low altitude, barely higher than the tallest buildings. Two Chinooks following an Apache gunship, they didn’t stop; they were in a rush to get somewhere and it wasn’t Thornhurst. The noise of the helicopters hadn’t faded as a convoy of army vehicles stunned all three as it entered the village and stopped on the street. The Scimitar turned its turret, scanning for threats before an army officer jumped out of a Land Rover and looked around the village. People saw help had arrived and exited their homes, relieved they were saved from the disaster that had afflicted the towns and was obviously on its way.
The officer produced a loudhailer. “People of Thornhurst. A national emergency has been declared, you are to stay in your homes until otherwise instructed. You will be evacuated in due course, do not leave your homes. Do not approach anyone acting unusually. Please return to your homes now.” The officer was brief but practiced. This wasn’t the first village of the day he’d belted out his short, scripted announcement to. It stunned the villagers, some rescue this was. He looked at the scared faces looking back at him and sighed. “Get back in your homes, anyone on the streets will be deemed a threat, we are authorised to use lethal force.” This did the trick as people began shutting themselves back in their homes. Eve guided Edward and Edith, passing the back of one truck as a soldier peered out.
“My sister needs help.” Eve was hopeful the soldier may offer assistance, but he just looked at her for a second.
“They’re coming sweetheart, you need to start praying. Fuck knows how many you have here already.” His face was tired, marked with dust and dirt; he’d been in action overnight. They weren’t running to a fight, they were running from one.
The army started pulling out, leaving the villagers on their own once again. Eve saw Edward and Edith back to Edith’s house, warning them to be quick before she returned to the shop. She felt she should have stayed with them, but she had to be with her sister.
“We need to gather up supplies, food, medicine, anything useful.” Eve had seen her father, seen the soldiers. Whatever was happening out there would come here.
“The food is all on the shelves; besides paracetamol, indigestion relief, some massively overpriced diet pills and the first aid kit, there isn’t anything.” The old village store would have stocked fewer lifestyle magazines and more aspirin. Grains rather than ice creams. Shovels instead of lightweight plastic footballs. It reflected society, less about function, more entertainment.
Explosions rocked the countryside from a fair distance out, but every person in their homes heard them. There was no doubt things would get worse before they got better.
* * *
Tina had eaten what was left of Patricia. The relief had been instant but not sustained. Her head was spinning, she needed more. Francis stood in the hallway, swaying gently from side to side. He had paid her little attention even when she was enjoying his sloppy seconds. Tina eyed her former lover up and down, his skin grey, dark circles around his eyes. He was grotesque and pathetic; she knew this was her future, and she didn’t care. The small part of herself that was still her, cursed helping the girls to escape. They would have made a tasty treat. Tina staggered to the front door and struggled with it before she popped it open.
She knew where to go. Her elderly neighbour Edith would provide an easy meal. She shuffled out of the house, down the deserted street. She could see the last army vehicle in the distance heading out of town. She couldn’t see the horrified eyes peering out from the many homes lining the road at her blood-covered
face. With every step, she became more driven by instinct, Tina could feel her humanity slipping away, but she didn’t care. It all felt like it would be okay. As she approached the door, she could barely raise her hand to knock.
“Who’s that?” Edith was startled, already on edge as she fussed around in the bedroom trying to get a small bag packed.
“I bet it’s Eve again, please hurry, I’ll let her in.” Edward called to her from the kitchen. He’d seen the sense in packing some tins of food and other supplies. “Make sure you have all your medications.” Edward made his way to the front door and opened it to the sight of a blood-covered Tina. “Bloody hell!” Edward shouted. She was on top of him in a second, he was too stunned to fight her off and she was too hungry to be stopped. She ripped a chunk from his neck with her teeth. He may have been old, but he was fresh meat compared to Patricia’s decomposing corpse.
Edith appeared at the top of the stairs and saw the scene at the bottom, Edward could not do any more than raise his hand hoping for help. As Tina tore a second piece of Edward’s neck out, his hand dropped and Edith ducked behind the corner, too afraid to think straight. The sound of Tina noisily chewing reverberated up the stairs, a grim sound that shook Edith, but she knew she had to get out. Quietly, she edged down the stairs, her back firmly pressed against the wall as she neared the gruesome scene. Edward was still blinking, but otherwise motionless, the life all but drained from him. Edith found herself no longer breathing, instinctively holding her breath as she carefully sneaked behind Tina to get to the front door. She very nearly made it. The fresh meat distracted Tina, but not enough to ignore the sound of Edith knocking a small-framed picture from the wall as she reached the front door. Tina lashed out and grabbed Edith’s ankle, pulling it to her mouth, managing the smallest, most innocuous of bites. Edith picked up a vase of fake flowers and dropped it onto Tina’s face. It was neither hard nor heavy enough to do more than distract Tina for a moment, but that was enough for Edith to get out of the house and walk as fast as she could back to Rose. Tina didn’t mourn the loss of her extra meal for long. Turning back to Edward, clawing at his clothes, ripping his shirt clean off to reveal his old flesh as she bit straight into his belly.
Deadweight | Novella | Thornhurst Page 2