by RR Haywood
‘You alright?’ Jacob asks quietly once the Doc and Larson slip out of view into the house.
‘That fucking hurt,’ Rob hisses, ‘shit I think he fractured my cheek.’
‘Lucky he didn’t kill you mate, what the fuck Rob?’
‘I didn’t think mate. Fucking heat, fucking weather, fucking sweating and shit mate, how’s it look?’
‘Bad,’ Jacob nods quickly, ‘but for fuck’s sake just keep going, take a big loop and get some pain-killers on the way back.’
‘I feel sick Jacob.’
‘Rob, he catches you puking or fucking about he’ll kill you. Just swallow it down and get some Nurofen or something and stay out of his way.’
‘Okay,’ Rob breathes out.
‘Larson’ll get you on the gate later so you’re out of sight for a few hours.’
‘I fucking hate it here Jake.’ Jacob stiffens at the sight of tears pricking the others man’s eyes.
‘Stop it Rob…’
‘I can’t stay here Jake, this is fucked up… he’s a fucking psycho. Did you hear about Vince?’
‘Yeah,’ Jacob mutters, making a point of looking round in case he’s being watched, ‘but we ain’t got a choice have we mate. Everyone feels the same, we stay till we get the vaccine or a fucking cure then we go. Not now though, so don’t even look like you’re thinking anything.’
‘Them boys Jake,’ Rob shakes his head the tears streaming freely down his face now, ‘what’s he doing to them?’
‘Fuck off Rob,’ Jacob hisses, ‘you fuck off right now, don’t be a stupid cunt. Man up and deal with it, here take these and fucking go away.’ Jacob hands his sunglasses over, the harsh words seeming to bring some resolve to the shaken Rob. Slipping them on he grimaces, nods, then walks off to join his mate who quickly walked on.
‘He was found on the hill near the copse,’ Larson explains as they walk through the rear rooms, ‘young lad, on his own but he had one of our vans with him.’
‘What? He drove here?’ The Doc asks, confused at how a young boy can drive a big van. Must be a plucky little chap being able to do that.
‘Just in here.’ Larson steps ahead, opening an internal door to a small drawing room. Two men with guns stand either side of the door on the inside.
Striding in, the Doc nods politely at Nick then looks round with a slight look of puzzlement on his face.
‘Where is he then?’ He asks Larson.
‘That’ him,’ Larson nods at Nick.
‘Oh,’ the Doc looks crestfallen, his voice low and disappointed, ‘I thought you said a young lad.’
‘Oh right,’ Larson nods in understanding, ‘sorry Doc, my mistake. I meant a young lad like a young adult lad not a er…boy.’
‘Oh,’ the Doc sighs, ‘well we’re here now. What’s your name young man?’
‘Nick, Sir,’ Nick replies promptly. His face is devoid of expression at the sight of the exceptionally tall man walking in wearing nothing but underpants and dripping wet. He must have been swimming in the river with the children. He has long, grey, scraggly hair but Nick notices the tight muscles and quickly guesses the man must be very strong. There’s something else about him too, an energy coming off him. The two guards left in the room were reasonably relaxed a second ago, making small talk with Nick but now they’ve stiffened to attention and refuse to look at him.
‘Nice to meet you Nick. Everyone here calls me the Doc, seeing as I’m a Doctor that’s rather apt wouldn’t you say?’
‘Of course, Sir,’ Nick nods firmly.
‘This is Larson and the other two are…er…well anyway, so what brings you here Nick?’
‘Me, Sir?’ Nick adjusts his position, ‘I was er, well I was saying to those blokes that I found one of your men I think, he’d been bitten, Sir, by one of the zombies. He was in a bad way but told me to take the van and come here. I er…I got lost though and stopped for a piss when they found me,’ Nick nods at the two men, both of them nodding in agreement but doing so at Larson, not at the Doc.
‘Well, got bit did he,’ the Doc takes a seat opposite Nick. Easing his big frame into an armchair, he casually crosses his legs, putting one ankle over the other knee while he thinks. ‘Bad luck that’s for sure,’ the Doc nods, ‘where did he get bitten?’
‘In the town, Sir,’ Nick replies instantly, knowing the man means where on his body but wanting to appear nice and thick.
‘Ha!’ The Doc chuckles, ‘I meant where on his body?’
‘Sorry Sir, er…on his leg Sir. It was a deep bite I reckon he had about two minutes, maybe a couple, more before he turned.’
‘Yes quite,’ the Doc affects a cultured voice, ‘indeed well, these things will happen but a shame nonetheless, he was a great man.’
‘There were two with the van Doc,’ Larson cuts in, ‘Nick here says he didn’t see the other man.’
‘Really?’ The Doc looks up, nodding thoughtfully, ‘well I dare say something happened and he ran off or got bitten himself.’
‘Possibly,’ Larson nods.
‘Well Nick, thank you for bringing our van back, really, very kind of you. So tell me, where are you going?’
‘Nowhere Sir,’ Nick replies, ‘I was just moving about trying to stay away from them, er…finding food and shelter, maybe somewhere safe to be…that kind of thing.’
‘You’re dressed like a squaddie,’ Larson remarks casually, ‘were you serving?’
‘No Sir, I just joined when it happened er…like the first training weekend Sir,’ Nick gives the truth.
‘Ah,’ Larson nods, ‘so you got the kit but not the training right?’
‘That’s right Sir, Salisbury Sir…whole place was infected so I just legged it and been running ever since. Had a few scrapes here and there as you can tell from my er…’
‘Yes quite,’ the Doc says looking in distaste at the blood and filth stained clothes Nick is wearing. ‘You’ve done well though, staying alive I mean,’ the Doc asks.
‘Guess so Sir,’ Nick nods.
‘We’ve got an unusual establishment here Nick,’ the Doc puts on that refined voice again, settling back into his chair with his hands together in front like offering a prayer, ‘a safe place that’s for sure. We haven’t had any contact with the infected here, but what we have got is lots of children. We gather them up you see Nick. Larson and I send our men out to scavenge the houses for food and are under instruction to bring back any lost children they find on the way.’
‘Right Sir, that’s very good of you.’
‘Yes Nick, you see we believe in the sanctity of childhood here Nick. I’m er, well currently working on a cure for the infection, maybe a vaccine, and it is my plan to administer the cure to the children first. They are the future Nick.’
‘Yes Sir,’ Nick nods affably.
‘We have plenty of food, some generators for power, fresh running water and security for the boys. The duties are relatively easy, wouldn’t you say chaps?’ The Doc smiles at the two armed men standing by the door.
‘Very much Sir,’ they both nod enthusiastically.
‘Duties Sir?’ Nick asks with a puzzled expression.
‘I think what the Doc means,’ Larson cuts in, ‘is that we’ve obviously lost two men from that van and we’ve had another slight issue resulting in one other being taken from us.’ Nick watches the exchange of looks between Larson and the Doc, ‘so we’re offering you a chance to stay with us. You work here and we give you food and shelter.’
‘Oh right, well yeah that’s great,’ Nick nods with a big smile.
‘Course we don’t know you,’ Larson continues, ‘so you’ll be put with someone else for now until we know we can trust you. Basic duties at first then,’ Larson tilts his head side to side, ‘if you show promise then we can see about adding to your duties. The ultimate goal for our men is to be on the scavenging crews, they get to go out and find food, find children and er…well whatever else they get up to out there is down to them, if you catch my drift?�
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‘Yes Sir,’ Nick nods and smiles again.
‘Right well nothing else for me here,’ the Doc stands up quickly, obviously bored. He nods at Nick before walking towards the door, ‘do you smoke Nick?’
‘Smoke Sir, yes I do,’ Nick replies.
‘We have rules here. Do not engage with the children unless you have my direct consent, do not smoke near them or in sight of them, do not smoke in the house, do not swear in the house or near the children, understood?’
‘Of course,’ Nick nods. Bloody hell, no smoking and no swearing, this could be a very long day. Hope to fuck the others get here quickly.
‘I’ll be upstairs Larson, got some studies to undertake, tell me Nick,’ the Doc pauses at the door, ‘do you know anyone called Mr Howie?’
‘Mr, who, Sir?’ Nick asks with a blank stare, fully aware of the penetrating gaze fixed on him from Larson.
‘Never mind, all yours Larson.’ Closing the door behind him the Doc exits the room, still dressed in his underpants but thankfully without the erection this time.
‘Carry on gents,’ Larson nods at the two armed guards visibly relaxing with the Doc leaving the room.
‘See ya Nick,’ one of them nods as they walk out.
‘Later mate,’ Nick calls out. Remaining seated, he watches the door close again then switches his gaze to Larson. That same penetrating stare, like he can see something inside.
‘Drink, Nick?’ Larson changes instantly, morphing into a friendly man with a natural easy smile.
‘Wouldn’t mind,’ Nick nods happily. A cure? The Doc in his underpants said he was working on a cure, maybe a vaccine. Shit. Mr Howie is likely to send Dave in first and Dave won’t discriminate. He’ll know Nick is inside and will kill everything that stands in his way, including the Doctor.
‘Something on your mind son?’ Larson asks with a concerned look at Nick.
‘Eh? No er… just er…you know.’
‘What?’ Larson asks.
‘Er, you know,’ Nick nods, ‘he was in his er… pants.’
‘Oh that!’ Larson laughs, shaking his head he walks behind Nick, opening cupboard doors to reveal well stocked shelves of soft drinks and bottled water. ‘You’ll get used to the Doc Nick, he is a strange one but er… well, if he gets this cure for us then…’
‘Oh definitely,’ Nick agrees, ‘sorry I was just like, fuck…shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Larson laughs again, ‘it’s only the Doc you’ve got to worry about, the rest of us are easy going but listen up Nick, the Doc has a er…well let’s call it a temper problem, which can erupt like the proverbial Mount Vesuvius, and at anything too.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously, I only say this as when he goes, he has a habit of lashing out, he’s a big man and doesn't know his own strength.’ Pausing at the open doors Larson looks back at Nick, ‘do what he says, don’t smoke or swear and don’t talk to the children.’
‘Got it,’ Nick nods.
‘Water or something sugary Nick?’
‘Sugary please mate.’
‘Coming up.’
‘So how many kids have you got here?’ Nick asks casually.
‘Twenty two and we get more nearly every day too. All boys, no girls and all from ages five to eleven.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh indeed Nick, don’t ask. Don’t question it, don’t look at it, don’t think about it,’ Larson speaks fast as he opens two cans of Dr Pepper, ‘you’ll see weird stuff but show no reaction, do what you’re told and you’ll be looked after. We got food, drink, enough cigarettes and tobacco to open a cash and carry warehouse and hopefully soon we’ll get some women here too.’
‘That’s always a good thing,’ Nick smiles at the right point.
‘Here,’ Larson hands him the can, drinking from his own the standing man looks round the room, waiting for Nick to take his first sip.
Holding the can to his lips Nick feels first the warm syrupy liquid gushing into his mouth. Suddenly, a cold, sharp blade presses against his throat. Freezing mid-gulp he holds position, not daring to move. His intelligent mind frantically goes through the conversation and what was said to trigger this reaction.
‘We’ve got a good thing here Nick,’ Larson whispers in his ear, ‘and no one is going to fuck it up, do you understand? Don’t nod or you’ll cut your own throat open. It was a rhetorical question. The Doc gets mad, he kills men nearly every day, he’s already killed the one who brought young Billy back earlier.’
The name, Billy. Larson must know the connection but how? With the knife pressed so hard Nick can’t move but holds stock still, waiting for the man to keep speaking.
‘But the Doc isn’t the only to watch Nick. I’m here all the time and I never lose my temper. I watch and I listen and when the time is right in my mind, I move fast and without hesitation. Now, the Doc asked you if heard of Mr Howie. You said no, didn’t you Nick? Only I swear I saw a little reaction in your face, a twitch, an absence of a twitch, fuck who cares, but it was there alright. I don’t who Mr Howie is, we’ve heard about him and his men and I couldn’t give a toss what he does, but what I do care about is why you would feel the need to lie.’
That was it. The too natural forced reaction when the Doc asked him. Larson is sharp, sharper than this knife pressed to his throat.
‘So Nick, just you and me now big boy and you are going to tell me exactly what you know,’ the knife is removed, a flick-blade retracted back into the handle as Larson takes his can, sips and strolls round to sit down in the armchair vacated by the Doc.
Nick swallows and breathes out, blinking hard he puts the can down to rest on one knee.
‘Like I said Nick, I don’t care about this Mr Howie or what he does, I just want to know why you lied.’
‘I didn’t,’ Nick blurts out, ‘I don’t know anyone by that name.’ An instinct tells Nick to maintain the story, that to give an inch now will bring disastrous results.
‘Don’t believe you,’ Larson says quietly with a wry smile.
‘Sorry,’ Nick shrugs, ‘I can’t make something up…I don’t know him, never heard of him? Who is he?’
‘You tell me,’ Larson prompts.
‘I don’t know,’ Nick shakes his head, ‘sorry mate.’
‘You hearing me okay Nick?’ Larson leans forward, fixing his dark eyes on Nick. Unblinking, stern, focussed and utterly in control, ‘I don’t care who he is, I don’t care what he does, I just want to know why you lied about knowing who he is.’
‘I didn’t mate,’ Nick sighs. ‘It’s hot, I’m fucking tired and hungry, I got lost and fuck… I’m in here with a huge, almost naked man asking me if I know someone. Shit mate, sorry if I looked the wrong way or something but,’ he shrugs again, staring back at Larson.
Larson jumps to his feet, the movement fluid swift and fast. Knife out, blade glinting in the sunlight which is streaming through the window. He doesn't say anything but advances slowly, the knife held at waist height.
‘Shit mate, put that fucking thing away,’ Nick blanches, ‘I don’t know Mr fucking Howard or whoever the fuck he said.’
‘Where did you come from?’ Larson asks quickly.
‘What?’ Nick stares in confusion, ‘the town where I found your man…’
‘Before that,’ Larson motions with the knife, ‘quick now Nick, where were you before that?’
‘North,’ Nick shrugs, ‘I told you, I was at Salisbury when it happened. I went north thinking the land would be fucking open and less towns but it’s all shit so I started heading south again.’
‘Why? Answer me Nick,’ Larson demands, that gaze unflinching.
‘I’m from Hampshire,’ Nick blurts, ‘near Winchester so was heading that way, got no other place to fucking go.’
‘Family?’
‘None.’
‘None?’
‘No, none. No brothers, no sisters. Grandparents died, dad fucked off when I was a kid so
just me and Mum…but she’s a fucking bitch so…’
‘So why go back Nick? Why head this way? This isn’t the way to Winchester.’
‘I was north of that town,’ Nick talks quickly, staring at the knife and noticing the steady hand that holds it, ‘in the countryside but I got hungry and dirty so went into town to get stuff, found your bloke and here I am.’
‘Met many people?’
‘No, kept myself to myself.’
‘Really Nick? A lone wolf traipsing through the countryside, surviving rather well by the looks of it, yet you happen to find one of my men having been bitten and decide to honour his dying request by bringing his van back to us.’
‘Yes!’ Nick exclaims. ‘That’s exactly it, well not the honouring him bit, no offence but I didn’t know him. I’m hungry, lonely and it’s fucking frightening out there…’
‘So you came here?’
‘Yes,’ Nick nods.
‘But you got lost did you?’ Larson pulls a pouty face, ‘got lost in the van and couldn’t find the fucking big house marked on the map in said van.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Nick groans.
‘What?’
‘I can’t read or write. I can’t read a fucking map, I was guessing. I know what the word Winchester looks like so I was hoping to see it on a signpost.’
‘What? Fuck off! There isn’t anyone left these days that can’t read or write.’
‘Dyslexia,’ Nick looks down at the ground, ‘like really fucking bad Dyslexia, the army was about the only job I’d get, no one else would hire me.’
‘What did you join?’
‘Infantry, the exams are the easiest.’
‘You talk alright,’ Larson says.
‘I’m dyslexic not a fucking spastic,’ Nick retorts, ‘I’m good with electrical stuff, mechanical stuff, engines and things like that but…’
‘But you can’t read or write?’
‘No,’ shaking his head he stares away from Larson.
‘So you don’t have any allegiance to anyone? Not missing say…a brother or something and come looking for him?’
‘No,’ Nick repeats.
‘You killed Nick?’
‘Yes,’ Nick replies instantly, staring back up at Larson with his own dark, focussed stare.