by RR Haywood
‘Good girl….good…..girl….Meredith….good….’ his voice becomes a whisper, his hands cling to the dog’s neck. His breathing slows, becoming shallower with every second. His fingers slip as his hands fall down. He exhales and dies.
The dog whines, licking his face and gently moving her paws against his neck. Dave steps forward, his knife ready. She growls softly, sensing his movement, the hair on her back on end. I wave my hand at him, telling him to back away. He nods and steps back.
We stand ready, knowing the outcome. Chris slowly pulls his pistol and aims at the head, ready for the turn.
The dog whines, staring at Paco’s face. Her tongue still licking at his skin. The hair on her back settles. She whines longer, her head lifting as she howls long and sorrowfully into the night air. The piercing sound makes the tears come harder. Lani chokes and moves into my side, I wrap my arm round her shoulders. Cookey drops to his knees quietly sobbing. Nick turns away his chest heaving.
She stops the howl, looking down at her master. The howl ends as her head cocks to one side, staring with intensity at the body of Paco Maguire. Ears pricked and eyes fixed.
I glance at Chris, he shrugs almost imperceptibly. The hair on her back slowly stands up again, a low growl in her throat. She doesn’t blink or look away, but slowly rises up. Her body lifting from the chest of the man she fought so bravely for. The top lip of the dog pulls back, showing the huge teeth. The growl becomes louder. Her body rigid.
The corpse twitches once, a judder of electricity running through its body. She growls louder still. Holding position with her front feet planted either side of the corpses head. Her nose inches from the face.
The hands clench and flex, the arms spasm. The corpse jolts and the eyes open. The red bloodshot eyes staring out at the face of the dog. A loud snarl erupts as her jaws clamp down, tearing the throat out.
Instinct forces my eyes closed, squeezing them shut. The wet tearing sound of flesh as the dog savages the undead body of Paco Maguire.
When I open my eyes she’s stood to the side of the body, growling at it. She barks fiercely at the corpse, then backs away and lifts her head to stare at everyone stood watching her. She looks at each face, her eyes locking on mine for long seconds. She twitches and looks down at her own side, as though suddenly aware of the wounds. She twists back to sniff at them, her back end slumping down to the ground. We rush forward, hands ready to lift and carry her if need be.
More water gets poured down her wounds, washing the blood away. Nick runs off to the house, the sound of smashing glass reaches us. I crouch down at her head, stroking the broad top of her skull. Her tail wags at the attention as many voices all tell her what a good girl she is.
Torches shine onto the wounds. Nick runs back carrying a large glass mixing bowl and pulling a hose with him. He puts the bowl down, pushing the end of the hose into the bowl and filling it with water.
‘JOHN CAN YOU HEAR ME?’ Chris shouts at the wall.
‘Yeah, you alright over there?’ A voice shouts back.
‘I WANT THE FIELD DRESSINGS OVER HERE.’
‘Roger,’ the voice shouts back.
The dog laps at the water, Nick runs back with towels and cloths from the house, using the end of the hose to soak her coat and wipe the filth away. Every hand that can get to her does something. Cleans, pats, strokes. She seems unbothered, letting her wounds be tended as she drinks and drinks. Her skin judders as the bites and cuts are cleaned and washed. The field kit is carried over by one of Chris’s men. They tear the packages open, unravelling bandages and wrapping them round the dog.
‘She needs to stand up,’ Chris says quietly. We gently lift the dog to her feet. For such a vicious animal she takes it remarkably well. Allowing herself to be held and fussed. Her tail wagging slowly and all the time drinking water from the bowl.
Within a couple of minutes the dog is washed , rubbed dry and covered in bandages.
‘Any idea what her name is?’ Cookey asks.
‘No mate, that bloke kept saying Meredith though,’ I reply.
‘Must be her name then,’ Nick says.
‘Bit of a weird name for a dog,’ Clarence offers.
‘That was Paco Maguire wasn’t it?’ Cookey asks.
‘It was.’
‘What the hell was he here doing here?’ Blowers asks standing back and pouring water down his face from the hose.
‘No idea, didn’t really get a chance to ask him.’
‘Hard bloke though, I thought all those actors were pussies,’ Tom adds.
‘He was proper hard, did you see him doing that thing he does from the movies, with the knee and breaking the neck?’ Nick joins in.
‘That was so cool, like really cool,’ Cookey says taking the hose from Blowers to wash his own face off.
‘Did you see the dog watching him, she knew he turned…she bloody knew it,’ Chris says, ‘how many bites does she have?’
‘Loads,’ Clarence replies.
‘We need to watch her like a hawk, Dave if she even looks like she’s going to turn…’
‘I’m on it,’ Dave cuts me off, standing close with a knife in his hand.
‘You can’t kill her,’ Chris says.
‘If she turns I bloody can.’
‘She’s bitten all over, look at the wounds…no sign of turning…’
‘Doesn’t mean she won’t though Chris, could be a delayed reaction or something.’
‘How we getting her back?’ He asks.
‘She can come with us, Dave’ll be right next to her.’
‘Howie she might hold the cure for this thing, you cannot kill her.’
‘He’s right boss,’ Clarence cuts in.
‘And what if she turns? What good will she be then?’
‘She’ll still have her blood inside her!’ Chris shouts.
‘Okay, Dave don’t kill the dog unless you have to.’
‘Okay Mr Howie.’
‘Everyone else okay? Check for wounds and cuts, that was a fucking fight and a half that was…where the hell did they get that energy and power from?’
‘Mutating, it must be learning to get them stronger,’ Tom adds, ‘the flu virus mutates and changes every year doesn’t it, my nan had to go the doctors every winter to get a jab as the one from last year wouldn’t protect her.’
Torches get shined onto each other’s bodies as we check for cuts, using the hose to rinse the filth and gore off. The dog rests on the grass next to us, watching with interest and panting heavily with her mid-section covered in white bandages.
‘All clear,’ Clarence finishes checking Chris, handing me the hose so I can do Lani. I check her arms, neck and face thoroughly. Hosing her skin off and making sure none of her clothes are ripped or torn. She does me after while Nick breaks out the cigarettes and passes them round. Dave standing close to the dog with a knife still held in his hand and staring down at her intently.
She lifts her head and stares back at him. The rest of us come to a stop as we watch them lock eyes. Neither flinching or looking away. Two killers of pure instinct staring at each other. Dave cocks his head to one side, frowning. The dog closes her mouth and does the same, cocking her head and staring back. Like some fierce competition taking place. Both of them trying to judge who is the most powerful, the most deadly. It goes on for a few seconds, silence from the rest of us as we watch with interest.
Then the spell is broken as the dog turns away to sniff at the bandages, Dave shrugs and looks up, surprised to see us all watching him.
‘What?’ He asks.
‘Nothing,’ Clarence replies for us as we all turn away quickly and find something else to do.
‘Can she walk?’ I ask as we get ready to go.
‘Yes,’ Dave replies, ‘come on,’ he speaks flatly to the dog. She gets to her feet and follows behind him into the house, walking straight through the rest of us with barely a glance.
‘Fuck, you wouldn’t pick a fight with them two would you,’ Chris
whispers.
‘Let’s go,’ I say in reply We file out of the garden, stepping over the corpses of the undead. I spare a few seconds to look down at the remains of Paco. Wondering why he was here but giving thanks for his bravery in protecting the dog. If he hadn’t come over that wall when he did this would have ended badly. Hard man, I always thought his movies were good but never realised he could do that stuff in real-life too. Pity, he would have been a great asset in our team.
Shaking my head I walk through the house and into the street, following the others as we file back to the Saxon. Dave and the dog already stood by the open back doors.
‘Ready for that swim?’ I call out.
‘Too bloody right,’ Clarence laughs.
‘What swim?’ Chris asks.
‘Mr Howie has been promising us a swim all day..’ Cookey explains.
‘And a cold beer,’ Blowers adds.
‘And a take-away,’ Nick joins in.
‘I never said anything about a take-away,’ I laugh back at them.
‘Well I reckon you’ve earned it,’ Chris says.
‘Yeah right,’ Cookey laughs, ‘you say that now but something else will happen…’
‘Always bloody does,’ Blowers chuckles.
‘Every half hour isn’t it Mr Howie?’ Nick asks.
‘Fact,’ I reply with a smile.
We load up slowly, the heat and exhaustion making us sluggish. The back doors are left open, the dog settling down on the floor and sleeping as Dave rests next to her, his eyes never leaving her face.
Clarence takes the front with me as we pull away, leading the way through the town back to our fort.
I don’t think I have ever felt this tired before. My eyes sting from exhaustion, my limbs feel detached. Clarence is already dozing off, Nick up top on the GPMG.
‘You look like you need this,’ Lani says behind me, passing me another sugary energy drink.
‘What a night,’ I reply with a yawn.
‘It’s not over yet,’ she whispers softly in my ear as her hand rests on my shoulder. A huge grin spreads across my face and suddenly I don’t feel quite so sleepy.
FORTY-SIX
She rests in the big thing, her eyes closed but ears pricked. The loss of another pack leader was hard. She felt the love coming from the man at the end. She’d watched him change in those few days. Full of fear and panic but he became a man, a leader, strong and true and someone she would follow.
She felt his life cease. The heartbeat that ended and the energy that expired. What came back wasn’t the man. It was one of the things and it had to be destroyed. There was no confusion about this, no mixed feeling.
The pack around her was strong. She sensed their unity and strength. They fought and moved like a pack. Sensing each other with instinct. Her own pack ceased when the man died but they were quickly upon her. Giving her water, stroking and fussing her. They made noises like her first pack, they tended her wounds which hurt but she was thirsty she didn’t care for the pain. At the centre of attention from this pack she felt a strange connection developing. The way they moved around her, they were showing her they wanted her in their pack.
She rested on the grass, watching and listening to them around her. One stood close. He was smaller than the others but the energy he gave off was incredible. Primal without an ounce of fear. She stared at his eyes, staring into his soul. Not a flicker of reaction. Pure positive energy emanating from him. No confusion of emotions that the people so often show.
Only he wasn’t the pack leader. His energy poured towards the other man. The one with the dark eyes. The one that the others listened to and watched so intently.
She felt his presence during the fight and she wasn’t the only one. The things felt his presence too. They feared him. They didn’t show it but she could sense it.
The things feared him.
He was the leader.
DAY TWELVE
One
Day Twelve
Tuesday
My eyes snap open; I’m sitting up breathing heavily with sweat pouring down my face. I must have been dreaming but already the images have drained from my mind just leaving the after effects. It feels early, that essence of the day when you can just tell it’s still morning.
Lani’s bed looks unused, we cradled on my mattress last night, crying into each-other’s arms until we fell asleep. The memory of what happened hits me like a sledgehammer, my head sinks as I groan.
Easing myself to the side of the mattress I look for my trousers, then remember I washed them late last night and left them outside to dry with my boots. I rub my face trying to get my thoughts in order. Opening my eyes I see my trousers are folded up next to the door, my boots on top of them. Someone must have put them in while I slept.
Quietly, and with a heavy heart I push my legs through the dry and stiff material of the trousers, at least they’re clean now. Clean socks and then my boots. Walking out I see the others in the main room, no one is talking. The loss weighs heavy on all of us. The success of getting the dog and then that happens.
‘Coffee,’ Lani walks over holding a cup out towards me. I take it gratefully and sip at the warm bitter liquid.
‘Thanks,’ my voice is hoarse and rough. The dog gets up from lying in the corner and walks towards me wagging her tail and panting lightly.
‘Amy’s been in and checked the wounds, she’s fine,’ Lani says quietly.
‘Who’s Amy?’
‘The vet, we met her last night when we got back…’her voice trails off, the memory still clear in her mind.
‘Is that her name? I didn’t know.’
‘She seems nice,’ Lani says distantly.
‘Yeah…’ I sigh and sip at the coffee again.
‘You okay Howie?’ She asks with a sudden and intense glare, her eyes locked on mine. I nod back.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she says quietly but with force. My hand drops down to rub the top of the dog’s head. Her ears twitch as she pushes against my hand enjoying the fuss. Looking down at her brown eyes, the long pink tongue hanging out, her soft fur under my fingers. She doesn't realise the sacrifice we made for her. The cost to all of us. What we did, what we had to do.
‘Hello?’ A young lad appears at the door, leaning in and looking at everyone in awe, his eyes lingering on the weapons scattered about, axes, knives, assault rifles and kit bags.
‘What’s up?’ I ask him.
‘Sergeant Hopewell said the meeting is about to start, she asked me to come and tell you,’ he explains quickly, obviously nervous at being sent to speak to us.
‘Okay, I’ll be down in a minute,’ I reply.
‘She said to tell you they need to get on with it,’ he says lightly.
‘Mr Howie said he’d be there in a minute,’ Dave cuts in quickly with a hard glare at the poor lad who nods and runs off. I feel sorry for the kid but I can’t muster the energy to say anything to Dave.
I sigh again before draining my coffee and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, ‘I’ll go down.’
‘I’ll come,’ Dave stands up.
‘Is that his kit?’ I look at the pile in the corner, the assault rifle and kit bag set apart from everyone else’s like a symbolic gesture.
‘Yes,’ Dave replies in his flat tone.
‘You coming?’ I ask Clarence, he nods silently, stands up and heads out the door. I follow behind him with a last look at the rifle and kit bag.
We walk down in silence. The heat is already high with the promise of another sweltering day. The fort looks busy despite the early hour, the signs of last night still clearly visible. The atmosphere is muted, just low murmurs of voices drift over to us. The smell of cooking hangs in the still air, wood smoke and the distinct scent of fish. They must have started fishing from the back door.
The whole fort stops and watches us walking down, silence descends as they stare. What we did…what we had to do may be too much for these people. It feels like the hostility is coming of
f them in droves.
Reaching the police offices we walk straight in, I was expecting a full house and I was right, everyone seems to be in here. The noise drops off as they see us walking through, the dog sniffing at the ground but otherwise staying close.
I keep my head down, avoiding eye contact as we move into the middle. Dave stares back as normal but I notice Clarence also keeps his gaze down. Sergeant Hopewell stands at the end with Ted, Chris, Sarah, Terri and a few others. Doc Roberts is already present, so is Kelly and Amy the vet.
Chris nods at me with a brief smile, Sarah and some of the others smile too, but I notice a few keep very straight faces as they avoid eye contact. The atmosphere is charged, the tension palpable.
‘Everyone here?’ Sergeant Hopewell calls out, glancing round, ‘good then we can make a start…what the hell happened last night?’ She snaps at me, getting straight to the point.
‘Debbie take it easy,’ Chris says quietly.
‘It’s okay Chris,’ I say quickly. My voice trails off as I think to the events, of what we did, what I did…and in front of so many people too.
‘Well…’ Sergeant Hopewell demands.
‘Chris said Paco Maguire was there?’ Sarah asks softly.
‘We’ve heard that bit from Chris,’ Sergeant Hopewell snaps, ‘I think we need to hear the rest now…’ Glancing up I can see the anger set into her face, pursed mouth and scowling.
‘I want to hear it all,’ Doc Roberts cuts in with surprising patience, ‘it might be relevant to all of us.’
‘We know they got the dog, we know about the big fight…we know about Paco Maguire…there’s no need to go back over that…’ She speaks slowly through gritted teeth, the hostility pouring off her.
‘Okay, let me explain…’ I interrupt.
‘I think you bloody should explain,’ she shouts. The patronising tone sets me off, the anger coursing instantly through my system. I glare back at her, unblinking with a fixed gaze. Feet shuffle in the uncomfortable silence, I can feel the energy pouring off Dave and Clarence next to me. The tension reaches the dog who gives a low growl.