Star Drawn Saga (Book 2): Lost Among The Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  ‘Kai!’ she hissed, hopeful he was close enough to hear her whispered call. ‘Kai, are you there?’

  With no reply Fran stepped into the kitchen, slowly skirted round the central isle with its dark marble counter top and gingerly pulled the door all the way open.

  ‘Kai!’ she called again, raising her voice as loud as she dared as she peered into the dense fog that seemed to churn before her eyes.

  She was just about to take a step forward into the swirling mass when she head the soft ‘tap-tap-tap’ of claw on tile behind her.

  ‘I told you to stay,’ she muttered, glancing down at Bob who had clearly chosen to ignore her command; instead following her to now stand by her side, sniffing the cool night air. ‘Well, just don’t get in the way,’ she continued to mumble, afraid to admit to herself that she was more than a little grateful for his company as she finally took the plunge and stepped across the threshold out into the overgrown garden; at last allowing the smothering fog to swallow her whole.

  ‘Where the fuck are you?’ she thought to herself, slowly edging forward; the tall damp grass brushing against her legs quickly soaking through her trousers.

  As she cautiously made her way onward she tried to picture the garden before her as she remembered it from the previous evening. The large expanse of overgrown lawn, choked with weeds and meadow flowers, the gazebo somewhere to her left groaning under the weight of the ivy and honeysuckle that had claimed it as their own and then there, straight ahead of her, should be the riotous flower beds gone to seed, slowly being swallowed up by the small woodland that the house backed onto; but try as she might she couldn’t get her bearings. She had never seen fog as dense and as cloying as this before, not even on the dankest of winter mornings, let alone in autumn and no matter which way she turned it seemed to twist and roll in ghost-like eddying currents.

  ‘Kai,’ she whispered once more into the opaque void surrounding her. ‘Are you…’

  She was about to say more when she heard the sound again. Raw and almost animalistic, the grunt instantly stalling her words; choking them in her throat. Beside her a low growl began to rumble in Bob’s throat. Whatever was out there, he sensed its presence too and was not happy. Yet Fran could see nothing, the wall of swirling moisture around her reducing everything to shapeless shadows of darkness. But see it or not, Bob knew something was out there and almost immediately his growl intensified, his lips curling to bare sharp teeth; and then with jaws snapping in anger, he started to frantically bark. Fran knew whatever it was, it was close and getting closer. And then all of a sudden a shape seemed to form from the fog draped shadows in front of her; a shape large and charging towards her. Instinctively Fran swung the machete upwards, ready to fend off an attack. But then in a split second, the shape changed, suddenly coalescing into something solid and terrifyingly recognisable; it was Kai. Horrified to realise it was the man she loved, she instantly tried to twist the angle of her blade away to avoid him but it was futile and she knew it; he was running too fast and almost upon her. Already too close to change direction, he didn’t see the long blade in her hand until, with a terrifying gasp escaping his lips, it plunged into him.

  ‘No!’ screamed Fran, jolting as she felt the metal scrape sickeningly along his ribs and into his flesh.

  ‘Fran?’ Kai simply gasped, his dark eyes wide with uncertainty and surprise, as if questioning his own understanding of what had just happened. ‘I… I…’

  ‘No, Kai, no… I… You’re going to be alright, you’re going to be fine. I promise… you’re going to be fine,’ Fran babbled, feeling her world suddenly crumble about her as Kai fell towards her; his knees giving way beneath him. ‘No, Kai, stay with me… stay with me, please, Kai, stay with me…’ she wept, her own knees buckling under his weight; forcing them both awkwardly down into the tall damp grass.

  ‘F…Fran, I…’ panted Kai, his voice rasping and distant as his lifeblood pumped over her hand, still instinctively clutching the blade.

  ‘Tom!’ Fran frantically screamed into the air, praying he would hear her from the cart at the front of the house; all worry for stealth suddenly forgotten. ‘Tom! Help me! Tom, it’s Kai… it’s Kai,’ she went on to cry, her voice dropping to a sobbed whisper as she searched for something nameless in Kai’s face. ‘He’s… hurt.’

  ‘Fran,’ whispered Kai, his bloody fingers reaching up to gently touch her face; wet streaks of almost black looking blood left in their wake. ‘I…’

  Whatever he was going to say was abruptly cut off by a painful wet cough that sent dark blood spraying from his lips; hitting her across her face.

  ‘Shush… shush…you’re going to be fine,’ she cooed, tasting the blood of the man she loved on her lips. ‘Tom will know what to do,’ she continued, her heavy tears falling freely, her words barely audible between her choking sobs. ‘He’ll know… you’re going to be okay, Kai,’ she went on to whisper, unsure just who her words were trying to convince; softly cupping his chin, she forced him to keep eye contact with her. ‘You’re going to be…’

  It was then that she noticed a figure had appeared out of the fog and was now looming over them.

  ‘It’s too late,’ came a voice from the fog-shrouded shadow above her.

  ‘No, please, you have to…’ Fran began to protest recognising Tom’s voice; refusing to accept there was nothing he could do for Kai.

  ‘It’s too late,’ he repeated, his tone almost callous and unemotional, ‘you can’t save him.’

  ‘No, Tom… Kai,’ wept Fran, shaking her head in denial, as she looked down into Kai’s face, his breathing shallow and strained; his skin suddenly as pale as the moonlight itself. ‘Please, Kai... stay with me. Stay with me.’

  ‘No one can save him now,’ Tom continued, so final and matter-of-factly that Fran looked up at him, the dense swirling fog obscuring his features.

  ‘Tom… no, please,’ she said, searching the indistinct shadow for some semblance of hope and compassion.

  ‘He’s lost,’ stated Tom, ‘lost to you and to his humanity.’

  ‘Tom, what…’ she started to ask, unnerved by his strange turn of phrase.

  ‘There’s only one thing I can do for him…’ he continued, coldly ignoring her words. ‘Only one thing for us all.’

  In that instant the churning fog seemed to swirl in front of her eyes, until, with a shard of moonlight suddenly piercing the gloom, it parted; exposing Tom’s figure bathed in a cool silver light. It took a second for Fran to process what she was seeing; Tom with his arm held aloft, the curved blade in his hand glinting. And then as the sickening realisation finally hit home, she watching in wide eyes horror as the blade began to fall.

  ‘No!’ she screamed, jolting herself awake; her heart hammering loudly in her chest as she wildly gasped for breath.

  ‘What?’ said Kai, startled awake by her cry, his dazed and partly sleeping mind racing to catch up with his body. ‘Fran. W…what… what’s the m…matter? What is it? W…What is it?’

  ‘Oh, Christ!’ panted Fran, frantically kicking her legs out from under the blankets as she buried her face in her hands; images of Tom’s blade charging towards Kai still flashing through her mind. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’

  ‘W… What! Fran, what’s the m…matter?’ Kai repeated, wrapping his arms about her shoulders concerned that he had never seen her so upset.

  ‘Oh, Kai… I… I’m okay… it was just… just a dream,’ she managed to mumble into his chest before the emotion of her dream spilled out over into reality and she found herself sobbing in his arms.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked again, kissing the top of her head as she allowed that dark part of herself where she buried all her pain, fear and loss to briefly surface; exposing it as raw and bloody as any physical wound.

  After allowing herself some time to truly grieve for all those she had lost over the last five years, Fran pulled in a few deep and shaky breaths to steady herself and with the early dawn light streaming through a chink in
the curtains, she sat back on her heels, looking at Kai.

  ‘Sorry… I’m sorry… I’m being an idiot,’ she sniffed, wiping her damp cheeks while Kai rested his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes full of worry and sorrow. ‘I… I didn’t mean to scare you… But… God, it was… it was just so real,’ she sighed, blowing out a deep breath to finally calm herself; an embarrassed smile on her face.

  ‘D…do you w…want to talk about it?’ he asked, tenderly brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

  ‘No, honestly,’ she replied, turning her head slightly to kiss his fingers, ‘I’m okay. It was just a bad dream, that’s all… hardly a rarity for anyone these days,’ she continued, softly cupping his hand in hers.

  ‘You’re sure?’ he repeated, his dark eyes still clouded with concern.

  As if to push her point home, she suddenly leant forward and kissed Kai gently on the mouth; trying to ignore the image of him bathed in moonlight, his lips flecked with coughed up blood, that flashed across her mind.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Fran, closing her eyes, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

  ‘Why do I feel like you’re t…trying to change the s…subject,’ whispered Kai, reaching up to run his free hand idly through her short hair.

  ‘You complaining?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow as she closed the gap between them again, this time their kiss growing in intensity; her mouth hungry for his. ‘Take off your clothes,’ she finally whispered, pulling away from him, already tugging her own T-shirt over her head; the need to feel his skin next to hers building.

  ‘Fran,’ said Kai, aware she may be deflecting him.

  ‘Kai,’ she sighed, tossing her top to one side as she manoeuvred her legs one at a time until she was sat straddling him, ‘I love you and right now… I… I just need to feel alive, okay,’ she continued, her hands starting to pull at his clothes.

  Looking up into her eyes still red from crying, he knew he could no more deny her than he could command the Dead to lie down and as her hands slipped under the fabric of his clothes, her fingers delicately running across his stomach and ribs, he knew he didn’t want to; he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered, his lips brushing against her neck as his hands slid slowly up her back to unhook her bra.

  ‘You’d better,’ she smiled, roughly pulling at his top to lift it over his head; pausing only when it became apparent Kai would need to move his arms to remove it fully.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ chuckled Kai, awkwardly pulling his top off himself to throw it behind her, ‘calm down, I’m not g…going anywhere.’

  ‘Good,’ she whispered, kissing him again, her words momentarily tinged with an unspoken sadness until she slipped her bra straps from her shoulders, at last allowing the garment to fall away from her. ‘I’m counting on it.’

  ***

  ‘I’m going to check on Star,’ said Fran half an hour later, tying the final lace of her boots.

  ‘Aww… L…leave it to Tom,’ Kai moaned, crawling across the bed to where she sat, his hands slipping about her waist as he playfully nuzzled the back of neck. ‘Come b…back to bed.’

  ‘Kai,’ she smiled, her hand reaching behind her to touch his face; grateful that any residual anxiety from her nightmare had finally evaporated. ‘Don’t… come on, play… fair,’ she finally said with a laugh, despite having instinctively tilted her head to one side to enjoy the sensation of his lips moving down her neck. ‘Hmm… You’re such a bad influence,’ she almost growled, as she shook herself and reluctantly forced herself to stand; almost immediately missing his touch.

  ‘Arrugh!’ groaned Kai in exasperation, throwing himself backwards onto the rumpled bed covers. ‘You’re the b…bad influence,’ he smiled, stretching as he watched her grab her jacket off the back of a chair.

  ‘Oh, really,’ said Fran, zipping up her jacket; the sight of Kai’s naked muscular body sprawled across the bed in front of her almost making her change her mind.

  ‘I f…feel used,’ he replied in mock shame.

  ‘I didn’t hear any complaints,’ Fran chuckled, walking back round the large double bed to retrieve the machete resting against the bedside table. ‘Come on,’ she continued, leaning in to give Kai one last quick kiss; making sure to pull away before he could drag her back onto the bed, ‘get dressed. The sooner we’re on the road again, the sooner we get to this White Oak Park place and the sooner you can feel used on a regular basis.’

  ‘P…promises, promises,’ laughed Kai, looking over his side of the bed for his underwear as Fran returned to the bedroom door.

  ‘What? You want it in writing?’ she replied with a smirk, looking back at Kai; her hand hovering on the handle while by her side Bob waited excitedly to be let out of the room.

  ‘Well…’ he started to say before she interrupted him.

  ‘Just get dressed, Casanova,’ she chuckled, pulling open the door. ‘See you downstairs.’

  And with that Fran stepped out into the hallway; subconsciously avoiding the frozen smiles of the family portraits that she knew awaited her.

  ***

  ‘Hey,’ said Fran, stepping into the kitchen surprised to see Sam and Mike already there, ‘and how’s Poppy today?’

  ‘Oh, hi,’ smiled Sam, looking up from the baby cradled in her arms. ‘Well, someone’s fed, changed, happy and awake… for now… When do you think we’ll be on the road again? I think I’ll need to dose her up at least half an hour before we go.’

  ‘About an hour I’d say,’ replied Fran, walking over to take advantage of seeing the baby girl both awake and in a contented mood. ‘She certainly was a find,’ she continued, smiling as Poppy’s tiny fingers grabbed hold onto one of hers. ‘Mrs Bradbury I mean… I’ve not come across anything like that before… you know, a shop… sort of gives you a bit of hope that things might get back to normal one day.’

  ‘The wheels of commerce will always find a way to turn,’ mumbled Mike, his head stuck in one of the kitchen cupboards; a small collection of useful found objects piled up on the marble counter, ‘no matter what shit hits the fan.’

  ‘Well at least you’ve got some proper sleeping tablets now,’ Fran pointed out, walking over to the back door to open it for Bob. ‘That should put your mind at ease a bit.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ replied Mike, only half listening, intent on his task of ferreting out anything worth keeping that Mrs Bradbury and company had missed. ‘Bingo…’ he suddenly exclaimed, finding a unopened pack of batteries wedged right at the back of a drawer. ‘And with that torch I found in that cupboard under the stairs, I can give you the miracle of light.’

  ‘Well, now I know what Donald Trump’s wife felt like,’ smiled Sam, getting up from the glass kitchen table to examine the other items her husband had found. ‘I hope it doesn’t all go to my head.’

  ‘Hey, give me a break,’ said Mike, adding the batteries to his pile, ‘I was lucky to find this lot. They pretty much cleared this place out. There’s not a scrap of food, tube of toothpaste or piece of loo roll left in the place. They’ve nabbed all the good clothing,’ he continued, unscrewing the cap on the torch as he spoke, ‘Yeah, if you’re in the market for some high heels and a party dress then you’re in luck but apart from that, don’t bother… Oh, and they’ve even cleared out anything usable from the cutlery drawer.’

  ‘Mrs Bradbury certainly runs a tight ship,’ commented Fran, noting that apart from the torch and batteries, Mike had also found a long screwdriver, some thick gauge knitting needles, both of which could be used as a weapon in an emergency, two boxes of matches, a half empty disposable lighter, a small sewing kit, the type you used to get free in hotels and the jewel of his finds, a third of a small pack of polo mints. ‘She doesn’t leave behind much for the rest of us… Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to go check on Star and see what sort of night Tom had… Oh, and if Kai’s not down in five minutes can you give him a shout.’

  ‘Yep, will do…
’ replied Mike, a big grin spreading over his face as the bulb in the torch suddenly flared into life. ‘Ta-da!’

  ‘My hero,’ smiled Sam, giving her husband’s beard a playful tug. ‘Who’s got a clever daddy, Poppy? Hmm?’

  ‘Just shout if… well, you know,’ added Mike, as an afterthought just before Fran walked out the back door after Bob; wanting her to know that despite the fact she was the best of all of them to deal with the Dead, if she needed it, a cry for help wouldn’t go unanswered.

  ‘I know,’ she replied, glancing back at the small family, a twinge of sadness pricking at her heart. ‘Back in a bit.’

  Stepping out into the misty early morning light, the air alive with birdsong, Fran made her way along the weed-choked gravel path back towards the front of the house. As she pushed her way past a large rose bush, its final blooms of autumn tinged brown with decay, she realised the chances of Mike and Sam getting their ‘Happy ending’, whether they got to White Oak Park or not, were going to be slim; for there, lying in the grass in front of her, its fingers claw-like, its torn skin grey and moulding, it very presence a reminder of the reality of their situation, was a severed arm.

  ‘No, Bob!’ said Fran, using her leg to nudge the small dog away from the thing that for so long had inevitably been a source of food for him. ‘Leave it… no, Bob, no.’

  Yet no sooner had she convinced the animal to leave the decaying flesh alone than she noticed another hand hidden in the tall grass a few steps in front of her. This time she wasn’t quick enough and Bob, doing what he had probably done for the last five years, darted forward, snatching up the remnant of a human carcass and started to make a meal of it; chewing enthusiastically on its fingers one by one. But Fran knew she had more pressing things to worry about than Bob’s lapse in diet, for she noticed yet more scattered limbs ahead of her; whatever had happened here Tom had clearly already dealt with it but nevertheless it still worried her.