The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  ‘Sorry,’ a woman comes running in, ‘I tried stopping her but she keeps running off.’

  ‘Yes, she does that,’ I laugh as Milly runs to hug Lani.

  ‘Lions and tigers and bears…’ Milly shouts.

  ‘OH MY!’ We both shout in chorus, exchanging rueful looks.

  Forty Three

  The sun is hot, very hot and sweat forms on his forehead. The fear and confusion is still there but the mind has defences against trauma, and it reaches a point where the images seen, the sounds heard and the memories recorded are buried deep to be dealt with later, or never at all.

  Instead, Billy transforms quickly into an automaton, doing what he is told, going where he is instructed and drinking when water is given to him. His young mind shuts down, he doesn't speak unless spoken to, he doesn't so much as smile as move his lips in the formation of what a smile should be.

  From the meal with the nice lady in the kitchen he is taken upstairs to meet the other children. Young faces staring at him with the same wide eyed looks of fear and confusion. Chatter from the youngest, boisterous swagger from the oldest, intent on dominating their environments. Some have been here for days, others like Billy, have just arrived and suffered the same overwhelming assault to the senses.

  Ripped away from parents, siblings, guardians and even kind strangers caring for them, to be taken to this strange house where each was thoroughly examined by the tall doctor. Eating food with the nice woman, made to wash and get clean, then told to play and have fun but all the time watched by men with guns. Men that didn’t interact with them, men that stared with hard eyes and smoked cigarettes, men that had stale coffee breath and were covered in tattoos, men with scars and shaved heads.

  Taken into a large play room and left, Billy remained still for long minutes. Watching the others watching him. All of them boys. Staring round he looked for girls as his mind instinctively sought the comfort and maternal instincts that only a girl can offer.

  No girls. Just boys. Lots of boys with freshly scrubbed cheeks and dressed in freshly cleaned clothes. Some had bruises and cuts, evidence of the scrapes and dangers they suffered prior to their arrival.

  Others are unblemished physically but their eyes show how injured they really are.

  ‘What’s your name?’ A bigger boy looms in front of Billy, his face a sneer of barely restrained temper.

  ‘Billy,’ he mutters quietly, his voice low and scared. Looking away from the bigger boy he stares at his feet sensing the immediate threat of a bully.

  ‘Silly Billy,’ the boy quips, ‘silly Billy.’

  Lilly used to call him silly Billy, but then he’d call her silly Lilly so it didn’t matter. The words don’t bother him but the tone the boy uses is rough and harsh.

  ‘Silly Billy,’ the boy repeats and pushes Billy to in his chest forcing him back a step. ‘Are you a silly Billy?’ The boy shoves again.

  Billy doesn't say anything. There isn’t anything to say. There are no adults in here, just lots of big chairs and lots of books, colouring pencils and brightly coloured toys strewn across the floor.

  ‘You’re boring,’ the bigger boy stalks off, kicking out at a Lego house painstakingly put together by a young boy with glasses. The bespectacled child reacts the same as Billy, staring forlornly at the broken house while waiting for the bigger boy to go away.

  Billy shuffles forward a few steps. Reaching down he starts picking the plastic bricks up, gathering them into little piles of matching colours. Without speaking the child blinks behind his glasses and slowly moves round to sit next to Billy. Working together they start rebuilding the house, neither of them speaking but pushing red brick into red brick, then green into green and so on. Eyes down, hands busy, minds occupied with something they both recognise and understand.

  ‘Well well,’ the Doc bursts into the room with a flourish, ‘look at you all playing nicely.’ He stands tall, beaming down from his great height at the sullen faces. ‘Young Billy is already playing with Simon, making a Lego house? That’s great. Great work boys. Right who’s up for a swim in the river?’ He waits for a chorus of cheers that never comes. Ignoring the slight, he strides round the room towering over every child within.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ the Doc booms, ‘let’s get you into that refreshing water, eh?’ Cajoling the boys up to their feet and out the room, they traipse out under the watchful gaze of the armed guards. The guards avoid all eye contact, looking everywhere but at the children.

  Those young boys that try to make eye contact, to reach out for a friendly older face, are rebuffed by that action alone. Not only under strict orders to avoid contact with the children, but all of the guards, as nasty and as rough as they may be, have an idea of what goes on behind the Doc’s closed door. The world has fallen but here there is food, shelter and weapons. The Doc has promised them a vaccine or a cure too and none of the boys look injured or hurt.

  Word of Vince’s sudden and violent demise spread through the house like a dose of dysentery. Confusion and apprehension grew. The orders were clear; scavenge the houses in the allocated sectors, bring back the food and any boys they find. Whatever else they did, found, kept, took was down to them.

  Those that did think of leaving kept the thoughts to themselves. Larson was friendly with all of them, plying them with treats and special privileges in exchange for whatever gossip or rumour was circulating.

  For his part, Larson knew it was only a matter of time before they started haemorrhaging manpower. Yeah they had food, shelter and weapons but they needed the company of women too. Something the Doc had expressly forbidden with exception to Meryl.

  Give and take. Larson knew the name of the game and was prepared to ride it out. He sensed the Doc would relent sooner or later about women being allowed here.

  From his position at the front of the house, he watched the Doc march the boys past. The absurdly tall medical man was singing jovially as he jokes the boys into swinging their arms and stamping their feet. Awkward and uncomfortable, Larson can see the boys are too stunned to do anything other than what they are told.

  Sighing deeply, he shrugs and strolls slowly after them, watching as they exit the back of the grand house and onto the manicured lawns heading down to the river. He knew what was coming next, he’d already seen it several times.

  A look of distaste crosses his face. A man of very low principle and a born survivor he will do it takes to get by but still, some things just leave a nasty taste in the mouth.

  ‘That’s it my lovely boys, down we go…Afternoon Jacob!’ The Doc waves happily at one of the guards strolling towards them.

  ‘Afternoon Doc,’ Jacob nods before quickly turning away to scan the surrounding area, a wooden stocked rifle across his shoulders.

  The Doc checks the rear area, the guards are posted where they should be; spread out and vigilant but not actually watching. The sun is shining, the weather glorious and hot.

  ‘Now boys,’ he brings them to a halt at the river’s edge, the glittering surface meandering by with a gentle eddy. Lower than it should be, the water has gradually fallen during the weeks of incredible heat, dwindling to a wide but relatively shallow stretch of beautiful crystal clear water. ‘We’re all boys together eh, so no shy boys here,’ he grins round at the gathered youths, ‘we don’t need trunks or shorts do we?’ He calls out, ‘fresh air and exercise is what we need! Lots of fresh air to our bodies, so come on, strip off and let’s get you into the water.’

  Those here for longer start doing as bid; yanking tee-shirts off and shoving shorts down. The new children are slower to respond. Hesitant to the point of shyness.

  ‘Come on you lot,’ the Doc laughs, ‘we’re all men so don’t be shy, we’ve all got the same bits between our legs, haven’t we?’ Laughing, the Doc pulls his top off exposing his long, pale torso already smothered in thick white suncream. Dark, greying patches of hair line his chest and stomach and his arms are skinny but long with sinewy muscle. Clusters of thick dark
moles stand proud of his skin and grinning he starts on his trousers, pulling first one leg out then the other before standing upright in a pair of pale blue y-fronts.

  Silence for a second as he scans the boys already stripped off, hungry eyes lingering on the narrow chests and thin limbs of the youths.

  ‘Hang on,’ he holds one long bony finger up as though he suddenly thought of something very important, ‘have you all got suncream on? The sun is very dangerous you know … here, I brought some with me, come and get a dollop and get it rubbed in.’

  Again, the boys already experienced at the daily river ordeal dutifully edge closer with hands stretched out waiting for the bottle of cream to be squeezed out.

  Jacob turns slowly, his face dripping with sweat and from behind his dark glasses, he watches as the large group of boys all strip off. The Doc kneels down amongst them and even on his knees he towers over every single one of them. Those huge, meaty yet bony hands rub cream into the under-developed bodies of the young boys.

  Like Larson and all of the carefully selected men, Jacob bites down the surge of revulsion at the sight. He knows what’s out there in the world, surely this is better for the kids? At least here they are physically safe, safe from bodily harm.

  ‘Billy,’ the Doc singles the young lad out with what he thinks is a humorous look, ‘come on you little monster, let’s get you all lathered up and protected from that sun, eh?’

  Billy does as he is told, standing patiently while the Doc rubs cream into his chest, arms, back and legs. His dad used to do this, his mum too and sometimes Lilly. They were always worried about him getting burnt but then Mum would spend hours lying in the sun saying how nice it felt.

  Mum never put suncream on his bottom though, neither did Dad or Lilly. But then he always wore shorts outside and was never nuddy. Nuddy was only for bath-time or in the shower.

  ‘Right,’ the Doc stands up suddenly, his face flushed and red, ‘into the water with you, come on, splash about and have some fun…last one in is a rotten egg!’

  The boys watch as the Doc strides into the water. His legs long and thin like his arms, knotted with sinewy muscle. There’s a bulge in his pants now too. Some of the boys recognise this from seeing dads run to the bathroom first thing in the morning, others wonder what it is. The Doc seems to pay no attention, but runs in to the water splashing about while yelling out in apparent glee.

  In they go, slowly at first but it is very hot and the water is lovely and cool. Even the worse conditions cannot suppress the natural ability of children to laugh and before long some of them, not all, but some of them splash and jump as they feel the effects of the gloriously cooling liquid.

  Shallow at the sides but deeper towards the middle, the river’s current is gentle. Those that can swim lift their feet from the river bed and feel themselves being moved gently away.

  The Doc darts about, wading through the water to grab at boys, heaving them up into the air as he forces them to have fun. He demands them to smile and laugh and all the time his thick, strong hands hold on just that bit longer than they need to, and that bulge stays in his pants.

  ‘Sir,’ Jacob walks closer to the river bank, calling out for the attention of the Doc while averting his eyes, finding something interesting just left of where the children were.

  ‘What is it Jacob?’ The Doc shouts with a grin. Jacob knows that grin is one step away from all out violence, and although the Doc is tall and rangy without proper arms training, his strength is awesome. Coupled with his explosive ability to get violent at the merest perceived slight, it makes him a very dangerous man and one to be extremely careful around.

  ‘Larson, Sir, he just radioed and said they found someone in the grounds nearby. Young lad apparently and er…they’re just bringing him in the front now.’

  ‘Another young lad eh? Well well, this is a prodigal day.’ The Doc swings a young boy over the surface of the water, making no effort to hide his erection.

  ‘Er…yes Sir,’ Jacob nods, prodigal? Doesn't he mean prodigious? Either way I’m not correcting him.

  ‘Tell Larson to keep the lad there, get him some food with our nice Meryl and I shall be along shortly.’

  ‘Sir, will do,’ Jacob hurries away a few metres fighting to keep his face a mask of neutrality. The Doc will find the cure, he will fix this and fix all of them. As soon as he has that vaccine or cure, Jacob is out of here. Middle of the night, grab a vehicle and drive, keep driving and get far away. For now though, there is no choice but to stay and entertain that sick fuckers depraved desires. At least he’s not hurting them, well not obviously anyway.

  ‘Weeeeee!’ The Doc yells. Grasping a young boy by the wrists he spins him round and round, knowing the angle of the youths face is eye-line with his crotch. Letting go quickly, the boy flies off to land with a splash in the middle of the river. The Doc already turning away to grab another one, urging the youngsters to climb on his back and play-fight.

  ‘Right, that’s me all done,’ he sighs theatrically, ‘I’m not as fit as you youngsters that’s for sure eh?’ Clambering out of the river he walks slowly to a large towel and starts patting himself dry, presenting himself face on to the boys still splashing in the river. ‘You stay here with Jacob and I’ll go meet our new boy shall I? Everyone having fun are they? What about you Billy? Settling in okay?’

  It’s been a few hours at the very most. And in that time he has had his medical examination, had some food, meet the other boys and come out here for a swim. Settling in doesn't cut it, it doesn't come close to the shell-shocked manner of Billy and the rest.

  Blithely carrying on, the Doc beams as though Billy just said he was having the best time of his life. A genuine belief that the boys are now happier than before. They probably all lived on shitty council estates with parents that hated them, on benefits and smoking dope all day. Bah! They’re going to be happy here and that’s for sure. Healthy food, lots of exercise and time to play, that’s what they need. They can run about in the fresh air and have their very own doctor on hand to keep checking them over.

  The self-justification runs deep, the roots of the refusal to accept there is something wrong with him have taken hold in every part of his being. In his mind he is a doctor, he is a protector and his flaws – well they’re just the eccentricities of a brilliant mind.

  ‘Keep a good eye out Jacob,’ the Doc says, striding past with his clothes held under one arm.

  ‘Will do Sir.’ Jacob nods and makes a point of scanning the vista then focussing on the children in the river. With the Doc gone from the water the view isn’t offensive and in fact, the sight of children playing on a hot day is actually a nice thing to see. A thin smile threatens to tug at Jacob’s lips.

  ‘WHAT IS THAT?’ The Doc roars. Jacob spins round, his heart ramping from normal to racing within a split second. His hands grip the weapon, index finger extending for the trigger. Half way between Jacob and the house, two more guards undertake a patrol across the rear lawns. The Doc stands over them, glaring down with unremitting fury in his face.

  Jacob winces at seeing one of the men trying to casually drop the still lit cigarette in a hopeful, but futile, attempt to hide it from the Doc.

  ‘I … WILL HAVE … ‘ The Doc speaks each word slow and loud, as though struggling to even speak with the rage pulsing from him, ‘NOONE SMOKING NEAR … THE CHILDREN!’ As he roars the last word, he steps in close pushing the other man back with his chest.

  Jacob sees it coming well before it happens. The Doc’s long right arm crosses his waist and swings up and out with a vicious back-slap, connecting with the guards cheek. The noise snaps out clearly, a distinct crack. The guard is removed from his feet, spinning to one side as he sprawls out.

  ‘DOC … STOP…’ Larson bursts out from a set of rear doors, sprinting across the lawn as the Doc starts striding towards the downed man. In his panic he doesn't think to get up but starts crabbing back with a look of pure fear on his already bruised and rapidly swell
ing face.

  ‘NO SMOKING,’ the Doc reaches down with one smooth movement, gripping the man by the front of his shirt, he lifts him to his feet like a ragdoll. Jacob watches mesmerised at the strength in the man. There was no effort at all. He just bent over and picked him up, shaking him hard while the guard rattles and begs for forgiveness.

  Reaching the scene Larson slows down, throwing quick, hard looks at the Doc, at Jacob, down to the boys in the river then at the guard being shaken by those two huge hands.

  ‘Doc, easy now… remember what we said?’

  ‘HE WAS SMOKING,’ the Doc screams, spittle flying from his mouth to coat the guard being held in his grip.

  ‘Okay, I understand and I’ll deal with it…just put him down now Doc… you’re er… well the kids look scared.’

  Jacob holds his breath as everyone waits for the Doc’s reaction. Even mentioning the children in any negative sense is likely to cause an explosion of violence.

  It works though, the Doc releases the man instantly. Turning to the river with a look of guilt he waves out, ‘it’s okay children, we’re only playing… ha! Grown-ups like to play too.’

  ‘Isn’t that right Rob?’ Larson glares at the guard just released, standing there looking terrified. He blinks slowly, first looking at Larson, then the Doc before seeming to see a light showing him a way out of this mess. One arm shoots up quickly, waving at the children and he forces himself to smile while ignoring the flare of pain across his face.

  ‘Just playing,’ Rob shouts out.

  ‘So, where’s this new lad then?’ The Doc turns to Larson like nothing just happened.

  ‘In here,’ Larson doesn't flinch but nods back to the house, ‘Rob, we’ll speak later, carry on your patrol but…’

  ‘I got it, sorry…I’m really sorry,’ Rob mutters quickly.

  Jacob finally releases the breath being held as the Doc walks off with Larson, leaving Rob nursing a swollen face.