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Among The Dead (Book 3): Dwell In Unity

Page 5

by Colley, Ryan


  CHAPTER 7

  We completed our morning routine of eating, stretching and a quick splash of water to freshen our faces. I noticed that Kirsty and Stephanie’s hair was starting to have a greasy sheen – much more noticeable on their long hair, as opposed to the shaven heads of Keith and me. Grubby face and repugnant smell applied to all. A mix of old sweat, new sweat, and gore ingrained into our skin and clothes. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but exiting and re-entering the van made it painfully obvious. We needed a good, long wash … and a decent can of deodorant, or twelve. I brushed my teeth with the only toothbrush – I still wouldn’t be giving that up – the act almost normalised the situation.

  I stripped off my leather jacket and jeans, and just let myself air out. I felt disgusting – the term 'swamp-ass' never felt more appropriate. The few bits of clothing I wore under it were drenched in sweat – I was losing more water than I was taking in. The modified clothes offered me protection against the undead, but not against any potential health issues. My feet had layers of skin I could just scrape away because of the sweat – trench foot came to mind. I had a rash on my thighs from where they rubbed. Most importantly, my male giblets were bathing in their own stew. I needed new clothes – I’d given my spare to Kirsty and Stephanie. I’d pick some up later. I had rain gear and durable hiking clothes, but nothing for the warm weather – and it was getting warmer all the time. I would keep the heavier clothes on until I found something else.

  “What’s the plan?” Kirsty asked. Her face twisted into a scowl. Not from the unfortunate sight of my buttocks, but because that was the expression everyone seemed to wear in the post-apocalypse landscape. That’s what a bad night sleep and fear for your life did to you. We would all be grumpy. I popped a multivitamin into my mouth before answering.

  “There’s a small village I want to pass through before carrying on north,” I replied, sipping part of our limited supply of water. I knew it was essential, but every time our supplies were used, I cringed.

  “What’s there?” Kirsty questioned me.

  “We shall see,” I smiled. It would be just as much a surprise to me as them.

  “Just tell me!” Kirsty snapped angrily, then sighed when she saw my taken aback expression. “Sorry, I’m tired and don’t want to play stupid games.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know what it is,” I said, still shocked by the outburst. “I just want to see it … it’s on our way, so it’s not like we’re wasting time.”

  “Fine,” Kirsty said and yawned. She turned her back to me and sat in the back of the van. She looked around her and, almost by accident, smiled. “It’s nice around here, isn’t it. Very peaceful. Like a fairy tale.”

  “I suppose it is,” I replied, looking around us as well. What I didn’t say, was that I felt it was more like a haunted forest out of a fairy tale.

  Once everyone was back in the van, we started heading in the direction of the village. Stephanie hadn’t said a word all morning. Her eyes were red-rimmed and had huge black bags beneath them. Keith didn’t say much either, but he wasn’t in a position to do so. So, that wasn’t exactly abnormal for him. Out of everyone, he looked the most refreshed. We drove in silence for a long time, passing the few odd zombies wandering the road. All of them took a swipe at our speeding van in an attempt to get us. All tried to follow us but soon disappeared from sight as we got farther away. Eventually, Kirsty broke the silence.

  “What’s the deal with Alice?” she suddenly asked out of nowhere.

  “What’s that?” I said shocked by the sudden mention of her name.

  “Who’s Alice?” Kirsty reiterated, turning to face me. “I’ve heard you mention that name a couple of times. Sometimes to yourself. She’s why we’re heading north, right? I just want to know more about her. Daughter?"

  “Uh,” I said thoughtfully, bemused that she thought I had a child, but I barely recognised the man who I saw in the mirror anymore. However, the story of Alice was one I’d told many times since I’d left home. The real question was, how much was relevant? I guess I would start with something basic and elaborate from there. “Alice is the love of my life.”

  “And?” Kirsty prompted. Stephanie was out of her daze and looking at me.

  I smiled and took in a huge breath before continuing, “Long story short, I lost contact when the whole world fell apart. She just stopped replying. So, I left home in an attempt to find her. I thought I would find her before the infection had spread so far. Turns out it already had by the time I got to her house. I followed a few leads and now here I am.”

  “We have a long journey ahead of us … I think you can give us a little more detail than that,” Kirsty said with a smile.

  “Yeah,” Stephanie said through a forced smile. “It’s … sweet.”

  “If you insist,” I replied with another shrug. Then added, "It isn't gonna get much more interesting than what you've already been told."

  I told them almost the full story. I skipped what I felt were minor and unnecessary parts, bringing my group up to date. I told them about the state of Bristol when I left and the eventful coach trip, which led to my hike into London. I explained the horrors I’d seen there but, somehow, I think even they found them hard to comprehend. Sure, they’d seen and experienced the undead for themselves, but my tale held a different kind of horror. I accepted that. I told them about my friend James and our road trip together. I even recited the address of his parents’ home and told my passengers that I planned to visit them one day. I then went on to tell them about James' execution at the hands of Harrington, and the rogue path the General was on. Keith was visibly angered by the story of Harrington, he even looked disgusted by the actions I described. I spent so long describing what Harrington had done, it got to the point where my passengers began to realise the extent of my hatred towards him. And I did hate him, so damn much. My insides twisted and curled up just thinking of him, but I couldn’t speak about him the whole time. I then went on to say about my final stretch to Essex. How I arrived at her house to find it empty. The lack of keys which pointed me towards the boatyard and how I met Gary and Tracey – the couple who cared for me. How we eventually left their safe haven, how they died, and ended it with my encounter with Boss. They didn’t need to hear how kind he’d been to me when he’d treated them so cruelly.

  “You really do love her, don’t you,” Stephanie finally said and smiled. It was the first genuine smile I’d seen from her in a while. “I wish I’d found someone like that.”

  “I thought I did, once upon a time,” Kirsty sighed. She didn’t elaborate on that, and I knew it would be a story for another day.

  “So, why aren’t you going straight to her then?” Keith said, finally speaking.

  “I am,” I said defensively.

  “You’re not though,” Keith replied, “We’re making a detour to a village today, why not push forward.”

  So, someone else had noticed.

  “I’m scared of what I will find when I finally get there,” I answered sadly, the truth hurting. It was then I truly realised why I’d hesitated and doubted my resolve. It all suddenly clicked into place. Maybe the others already saw that. Suddenly, my words seemed to take form and spilt out before I had a chance to stop them, “If I keep putting it off, then the idea of her being alive keeps me going. Once it’s confirmed either way … I won’t know what to do with myself anymore. If she’s alive, then I will stay with her. If she’s dead … then what? I wouldn't have anything. Not even an idea.”

  “You know you need to go to her though, don’t you?” Keith said calmly. I could see Kirsty nodding in agreement. “If she’s alive, she’ll need you.”

  “He’s right,” Kirsty said. “You can’t hesitate on this. If I had anyone like her in my life, I’d do anything to get back to them.”

  “Yeah, and we’ll be right beside you,” Stephanie agreed. “We’ve all got each other.”

  I’m sure she didn’t mean Keith, but he smiled anyway. They wer
e right. I needed to find her. I wasn't alone in that. For the moment, tensions slipped away, all in favour of helping me in my quest to find Alice. My resolve held, for the time being.

  CHAPTER 8

  Opening up about my journey had done a lot more than bring us all that little bit closer – it also helped to lighten the mood. Keith, albeit not as freely as the rest of us, joined in the conversation. The impressive part being Kirsty and Stephanie both openly acknowledged and answered him! We were moving forward!

  During our travel, Stephanie had found a CD wallet filled with random discs under one of the seats. Some were legally obtained, and others had been burned off a computer. All the illegally created discs were labelled with titles like ‘Awesome Mix 1’, and ‘Party Collection 7’. The previous owner really did like music. Unfortunately, the CD player built into the van didn’t work. The radio was fine, but the player didn’t even recognise that a disc had been put in – legal or not. It needed fixing, but so did a lot of things in the van. The clock wouldn't set, no matter how much we played with it. The air conditioning would only blow out a burnt plastic smell. There was a horrible squeak from one of the wheels. The van was a wreck. Plus we couldn’t safely open the windows. Unfortunately, I knew very little about the fixing of a van. As a result, we had an ornate wooden clock on the dashboard and, should Stephanie get her wish, there would be a CD player also.

  We drove for a few more hours, talking about life and the future. It was amazing how we had all come from such different backgrounds and still ended up in the same van together. Keith was the only person who didn't answer questions about his life. He did, however, answer around the questions. I didn’t know if I was the only one who noticed, because no one else said anything.

  So, we travelled. We drove along little back roads and countryside lanes – anything to keep away from the motorway congestion that we’d been warned about. It would take longer, but at least we didn’t have to go there on foot. We saw a lot of green fields and lonely farmhouses on our route. I never knew the British countryside could be so beautiful. The Britain I always knew were the greys of the concrete landscape I’d known in Bristol. The most important part about the countryside was the lack of zombies. We could settle somewhere out in the wild for the night, laying on the ground and staring at the stars, and we’d be safe.

  There was more driving, and nothing exciting until we saw something strange … and to say ‘strange’ when the dead were walking was saying a lot. Over in one of the many fields we passed, off from the road, was a camper van. Not an abandoned camper van with bodies around it, or with ghastly bloody handprints all over it to suggest the fates of the inhabitants. It was different. I knew the fate of the inhabitants because they sat on outside of the camper van.

  “What the–” I said in shock, slowing down to look at them. There were five of them – three adults and two children. The kids sat on the floor, playing with toys. Two of the adults were, what looked like, sunbathing on the grass. The last adult was cooking over a barbecue, plumes of smoke disappearing into the air. They were laughing and smiling, the summer air thick with the sound of children’s laughter. They all looked like they were on summer vacation. The weirdest thing I’d ever seen. The actual scene wasn’t strange, but the context I was seeing it in … I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. How could people be relaxing and having fun?

  I didn’t fully stop the van but rolled along slowly as I peered at them. Then the man working the barbecue waved at us. I, not even thinking, waved back. I’m sure I was scowling at him, but it wasn’t in a threatening way – it was just the confusion. He said something, and the other adults sat up to look at us – a female in her thirties, and another male in his forties. The sunbathing male disappeared inside with the children, but the guy cooking waved us over. It was an overly exaggerated gesture of 'come here' but it was done so for us to see. I started to put my foot down on the pedal to drive away when Kirsty grabbed my arm.

  “Where are you going?” she whispered.

  “Away,” I said simply. She stared at me quizzically. I elaborated. "We don’t know them. Why risk it?

  “They have kids. Where’s the harm?” Kirsty replied. Anger flared up inside me. Where’s the harm? What happened with the last lot of people I trusted!

  “Fine,” I sighed. I pulled over and turned off the engine. “I will go and meet them, you guys come over after … okay?”

  “I’m coming too,” Kirsty replied, shouldering her SA80 and stepping out. I didn’t bring a gun – one would be enough. Besides, I didn’t want to push the group into some sort of attack through intimidation.

  “Whatever,” I said angrily. Why were people messing with what was safe? New people were dangerous. Surely we all knew that? I turned to Stephanie, “You stay here with Keith, ok?”

  She nodded, and I smiled. Finally, someone was listening to me.

  Kirsty and I strode up to the little campsite. The woman stood by the man who was cooking. She was smiling, but also looked anxious – her eyes darting around rapidly. I could see the other man inside the camper van, peering through the tinted windows at us. I couldn’t tell if he had a gun or not, but I could hear the kids talking amongst themselves. They had to be six or seven years old at the most.

  “How be stranger?” the man, also in his thirties, greeted us. He was turning sausages on the grill. They looked great and smelled even better. My mouth watered.

  “We’re good thanks,” I replied, nodding briefly and giving a tight smile. Since when did social interaction become so awkward?

  “Where you guys going?” Kirsty asked, seemingly friendlier than me, which wasn’t difficult.

  “We’re all going down south. A lot of family live down that way,” he smiled, still cooking those damn sausages. He saw me staring, “You guys hungry? We have plenty.”

  “They’re not human are they?” I joked. Everyone, including Kirsty, gave me a disgusted look. I quickly apologised, “Sorry, too many films.”

  “We would love food,” Kirsty replied, acting like a normal human.

  “You got someone else over in the van I see,” he said, nodding in the direction of our vehicle. My mind instantly went to Keith – how the hell would we explain that?

  “Look,” I said, cutting through the friendly small talk, “I’m going to be brutally honest with you … there are two people in the van. One of them is tied up. He’s travelling with us, but we don’t entirely trust him. We can leave right now if this is going to be a problem.”

  “Good of you to be honest,” he nodded thoughtfully. “He a pedo?”

  “Not that we know of,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Bring him on over then. We all gotta eat,” he smiled. He then shouted, “Ian, get on out of here. They’re fine.”

  The man inside came out, bringing the two kids with him. The kids and the man bore a striking resemblance to the woman of the group.

  “This is my wife Sandra, her brother Ian, and the two little rascals are mine and Sandra’s kids; Alan and Pete,” the man explained.

  “Sup little dudes,” I said, smiling awkwardly at the kids. I put my hand out for a high five, but Ian pulled them behind him. He was protective and that was completely understandable.

  “Hello!” Alan, the oldest beamed.

  “Is he one of the good guys or the bad guys?” Pete, the youngest asked, squinting at me.

  “I’d like to know that too,” Ian said, staring at me. I noticed he had a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “Definitely good guys,” Kirsty said and smiled at him. The smile never touched her eyes. I reached out and shook all of their hands. Ian gripped mine tightly and stared into my soul. He didn’t trust me. Good. I sure as hell didn’t trust any of them either.

  “Should I call the other guys over?” I asked the man who was cooking.

  He nodded, and said, "My name is Jeff by the way.”

  “Sam,” I smiled, introducing myself properly.

  “I know this
is a bit of a cheek,” Jeff began with an awkward smile. “And don’t think we won’t share our food with you should you say no … but do you have any spare fuel? We've been running low."

  I nodded, didn’t say anything more and walked back to the van without even questioning him. He was splitting his food with us after all.

  ****

  Kirsty

  Kirsty felt she’d got to know Sam relatively well in the short time they’d been together. She knew that he liked to think of himself as a good guy, but he didn’t always act like it. Sure he’d saved her and Stephanie, and that was selfless, but he still acted like he’d been hard done by as a result. Besides, he had his best interests at heart – which she understood. He also wasn’t a cold-hearted scumbag, as logical as he tried to be. He should have killed Keith on day one to ensure his own safety, but he protected him nonetheless. So, when Sam came back with Stephanie, Keith and one of their jerry cans of fuel, she was shocked.

  She hadn’t expected him to offer them the fuel, she expected him to lie and say they didn’t have any extra. He, once again, went out of his way to help a person he’d never met. He helped them fill their camper van, and told them to keep the rest. He insisted he didn’t want anything in for it when they offered. When Jeff and Sandra kept insisting that he needed something as payment or to trade, Sam told them that the food which they were being given would be of equal trade value. Jeff told him it wasn’t a fair trade, and Sam simply retorted that value was all from the perspective of those receiving. He refused to accept anything other than the food for the group. Kind? Yes, extremely. Smart? Maybe not, but it didn’t matter. Kirsty just smiled at the simple act. There were good people still in the world, and Sam’s actions spoke volumes.

  ****

  Sam

 

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