Among The Dead (Book 3): Dwell In Unity

by Colley, Ryan

  “Grans … house,” she choked, a steady flow of blood came from her mouth.

  “Lindsey … can you think of Gran's house for me please?” I asked, the lump in my throat felt as though it was made of glass. She nodded. “Great … tell me about it.”

  “She … loves to … bake,” Lindsey said, almost smiling as her head kept dropping. “She … al … ways … gave … me … a … snea … ky … bisc–”

  Then Lindsey’s ragged breathing stopped and her head rolled back slightly.

  “Lindsey?” I asked hopefully, already knowing I would get no response. When no answer came, I didn’t stop the tears as I was consumed by grief.

  CHAPTER 18

  I just sat next to the girl I’d killed, soaking in her cooling blood, and I was spiralling. Lindsey, the girl I’d killed. Just me. No one else. It was my fault, and I was a monster. Then there was the return of something familiar. A voice. You needed to survive. The same voice that tried to both guide and destroy me. It wasn’t any supernatural force though. No divine guidance. It was my conscience trying to reason with me. It really was you or her. She would have killed you. It could have been avoided. Maybe, but what is done is done – you can’t change that. I need to pay for what I did. If you don’t move, you’ll die. So what? Then you killed her for nothing, at least let her death ensure your survival. I hated myself for thinking like it, but it was true. I did need to move. I needed to get out of there, if only to stay alive. I’d have to bottle up my mental breakdown for later. I scooped up my SA80 and dried off my bloody hands on whatever patch of untainted clothing I wore. Then I moved on silently, my face a scowl of determination. I needed to find my group.

  I headed to where Stephanie and Kirsty had been previously and found them crouching behind a different set of shelves. They were still trading shots with someone else – the return shots suggested there was only one other person left.

  “What happened to you?” Stephanie gasped between shots as she took in my appearance.

  “Shut up,” Kirsty instructed after seeing, what must have been, the hollow look in my eyes. She wasn’t stupid and could probably work out what had happened. Her SA80 clicked, indicating it was out of rounds and she cussed. I didn’t respond. I stood there swaying, unable to do anything. Kirsty eyed me cautiously for the briefest of moments before taking the SA80 out of my hands and lowering me into a slumped heap on the floor. She told Stephanie to keep me alive before continuing her gunfight for, what felt like, an eternity.

  Suddenly, something broke the stalemate of conflict. When the other person was meant to return fire, all that came back was a choked shout and the sound of a struggled as stuff fell to the ground. Kirsty hesitated before she risked a look, a surprised expression spread across her face. Keith then appeared, his binds wrapped around the last person’s neck. Calmly, and with a cold determination, he choked him out by twisting the binds tighter and tighter until the man no longer struggled. Then, he kept them there for a little longer, just to ensure he’d finished the job. Except, I looked away before that happened – I didn’t want to see any more death. Keith returned to us, dusting his hands off on his clothes. I looked at all of them and felt a stab of pain when I didn’t see how I felt reflected in a single one of their faces. Keith looked grim, but in the same way someone would doing a job they disliked – he wasn’t unfamiliar with that sort of thing. Stephanie looked excited, like she was enjoying herself. Kirsty was pale but still determined, a coldness to her gaze. How were they all handling it so well? How could they keep themselves together?

  “What happened to–” Stephanie began again, looking at me, but was cut off by Kirsty.

  “I told you to be quiet,” she snapped, taking charge. Good, the group needed a capable leader and I was far from that. “Keith, you go find what we came for. Stephanie, you take any ammunition. Sam, you wait here.”

  Kirsty disappeared, and so did the others. I just sat there, glassy-eyed as a dead girls blood coagulated on me.

  Kirsty was the first to return. She had clothes, a towel, and some water. I didn’t even fight her as she stripped me down. She scrubbed at me with a wet towel. I lifted my arm when I was told too, moved my legs when necessary, and got up and towelled myself off when she was done. She handed me clothes and I dressed in front of her – any modicum of privacy forgotten. What did privacy matter anymore? Stephanie came back next with various gun magazines, which she piled into a basket in front of us. Even in my current state, my brain told me they were all of a similar calibre and range that we had already. Keith returned next and I was forcibly given more water with the sachet in it. I drank it down mechanically. Then something happened that, even in my catatonic state I knew, was odd – Kirsty handed Keith a pistol. Stephanie protested angrily but was silenced by her.

  “There are exactly seven rounds in there, go and deal with the bodies. I want to hear seven shots," Kirsty told him. He nodded and started to walk away. Then she quickly walked over and said, “Make sure you go over there.”

  I knew she’d gestured to where I’d come from. Seven shots rang out one after another throughout the store.

  Finally, we left. Kirsty guided us all out as they took various items along the way – more food, more water. Other luxuries. All guns were left, but the bullets came with us. I didn’t take anything. I didn’t want to. To me, it would be stealing from the dead. After all, it would forever be Lindsey and her companion’s tomb.

  Interlude Four – Stephanie

  Stephanie became more level-headed when she finished college. She calmed down and became her father’s loving daughter again, although she still displayed signs of her childish nature at times. Nevertheless, her father was happy.

  Before long she decided she was going to university, and that meant moving away to study. Her father was devastated but knew she had to find her own way in life – even if she stumbled a few times to get there.

  So, she moved farther north and her father helped set up an account to get her through her first year of university. However, things rarely go to plan. Whilst she was in the process of moving, he died. Suddenly and unexpectedly. Stephanie was heartbroken. But that wasn’t the end of it – even from beyond the grave, he helped her.

  When going through his things, she found a diary on his laptop – a few simple sentences from each day. Stephanie almost didn’t read it, out of respect, but that idea didn’t last long. One night, after a few drinks, she opened the file. She needed to know what he was thinking. Not about life, but about her. She felt like a disappointment. So, she read through it. Read it into the early hours, until the alcohol ran out and she sobered up again. Until she found a few words about her on the day she moved out for university. I’m so proud of my Stephanie.

  From there, she learned about the account he’d set up for her, and she added to the account – all the money he’d left her. She used the money to move north and go to university. She was going to study Sports Science. In a way, she thought her father would like that. It was a combination of what her father loved, and what she loved. During her first semester, the dead began to walk.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kirsty

  Kirsty escorted Sam back to the van, guiding him by the shoulders in the way you would a small child. No one said a thing. Stephanie hummed gently but stopped when Keith told her to. Kirsty could hear a small argument breaking out between them, which she silenced with a single look. Sam didn’t protest to the guidance he received, nor did he resist. Keith held the van doors open as Kirsty sat Sam inside, connecting the seatbelt for him when he didn’t. Keith climbed in the back after receiving a brief nod of thanks from Kirsty, who got into the driver’s seat. She didn’t trust anyone else to drive, especially Sam.

  They didn’t hang around the retail park for long, driving away almost as soon as the doors were shut. As they left, Kirsty noted how the undead, attracted by the sounds of gunfire, were slowly streaming through the car park towards them and the store they left. It truly made Kirsty
realise how vulnerable using guns made them. Sure it could dispatch the undead with efficiency, but it was even more deadly for those who had the pleasure of still being alive. It didn’t take a headshot to kill a human as it did with the undead, it could be anything – a leg wound, the shoulder, even the arm. Anything could result in death. Blood loss. Infection. Anything. Then there was a secondary factor of gunfire – the sound. The undead would follow the sounds of conflict. The bullets were deadly, but the noise was probably worse. You could survive a shootout with the living, only to be felled by the onslaught of undead, like crows waiting for carrion on a battlefield.

  Kirsty swerved out of the carpark, avoiding a direct collision with the undead. The van shuddered as the bodies of the charging undead bounced off the side panels. She cringed with each hit – though she was confident in their work, everything had to give eventually. She looked over at Sam and saw his vacant expression. Everything had to give eventually. They needed to do something to bring him back from the dark realm he was descending into. They needed him to survive. He gave them a purpose.

  ****

  Keith

  Keith knew what Sam was going through. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That’s what the professionals called it. Maybe there’d been signs for Sam’s progression and none of them had noticed it. None of them knew what was and wasn’t normal for him. They had no baseline for his behaviour. The people in the van, himself included, didn’t even know each other. They’d been thrown together out of circumstance. Yet, Sam had managed to keep their group of misfits together. He gave them a common goal and he had a plan to get there. None of them truly had any need to get to the convoy other than Sam, but they had no other goal to aim for. So Sam had unwillingly recruited people to his cause. They were on their own in the world, but at least they were alone together. They needed Sam as much as he needed them.

  Keith knew they had to snatch Sam back from the edge he teetered on. He was falling into madness – a catatonia he would never escape from should he be allowed to fall. They had to save him, for all of their sakes.

  ****

  Stephanie

  Stephanie didn’t like the way Sam was acting. Not one bit. She didn’t understand what was wrong with him and she didn’t like what she didn’t understand. All she knew was that Sam wasn’t himself and that was bad. What made it even worse was that no one was talking about it. They were all tiptoeing around the subject instead of confronting it! And why did he deserve a break? He’d only killed one person, she’d killed loads! She’d been through so much worse than Sam! Why weren’t they still tiptoeing around her? Why weren’t they looking after her? It wasn’t fair! A thousand selfish thoughts ran through her mind, but she didn’t really believe any of them. They were a cover for something that ate away at her. Like a suppurating growth consuming everything she was, and it showed no signs of slowing.

  Stephanie was terrified. Of everything. She couldn’t sleep at night. She couldn’t focus in the day. When she was pretending to sleep, every little noise terrified her. She was deep in her own kind of darkness. So far down that she didn’t see anyone else’s suffering. Her life seemed a wretched existence. This idea was only compounded further when she remembered who she used to be. The person who she still should have been.

  Not many could deal with the terrible things that had happened to Stephanie, and that wasn’t wrong. She felt alone, with no one to talk too. No one could understand what she felt. Those thoughts, no matter how untrue they were, isolated her.

  ****

  Kirsty

  Looking around, Kirsty realised there was no one within sight. No undead or people, despite being on a housing estate. There was no sign of a struggle ever taking place there. Most doors were shut with no evidence of forced entry. That was an educated guess – the undead had a way of leaving tell-tale signs wherever they went. Chaos and death. Blood strewn streets. But there was none of that.

  Continuing to look around, Kirsty noticed that most of the cars were missing from driveways and roads. Almost as if no one lived there.

  “We need to find somewhere to pull over,” Kirsty announced, looking at the glassy-eyed Sam.

  “Plenty quiet around here,” Keith nodded in agreement. He nudged Sam and said, “How about it?”

  For the first time since the shootout, Sam acknowledged a world outside of his own mind. He looked up slowly and nodded.

  “Great,” Stephanie said, managing to sound both cheerful and sarcastic all at once. Then added excitedly, “Let’s find a park!”

  Kirsty stared at her, curious about her train of thought.

  “I don’t see why not,” Keith responded, attracting Kirsty’s eyes. “Might be good for us to get some air.”

  Kirsty knew he was talking about Sam, but he was right. It would be a better location for coaxing Sam back to reality than a musty van.

  After some driving, Kirsty found what they were looking for – a child’s playground down one of the many streets. A limited greenspace in a sea of concrete. Kirsty pulled up and climbed out, Stephanie bouncing out behind her, and Keith pretty much fell out – thankful to be out of the sweltering heat. Kirsty helped Sam out of the van and guided him to a bench. Keith took one look at the sausages they’d been given, packaging now bloated, and thought about the small joy they’d been deprived of. He simply dropped them in a bin provided by the local council. There was no need to litter, even during the end of the world.

  Kirsty stood by Sam’s side, watching as Keith and Stephanie walked over to them guided by nothing more than the need to be together. A need they had only developed because of Sam. There was something about him, an unrefined charisma that garnered the trust of others. He was a leader, even if he didn’t know it. If it wasn’t for him, Keith would be dead while Kirsty and Stephanie would be lost. Kirsty smiled, she knew Sam would be okay eventually, and it would be because of them – they would return the favour that he gave to them. It wouldn’t be easy, but they’d bring him back. After all, she couldn’t imagine a future without Sam.

  They all sat in silence for a good hour, enjoying the sunlight and warm breeze. Enjoying the silence and lack of violence. Then, Sam spoke.

  “Who has two thumbs and killed a fucking child?” Sam asked the group with a crooked smile.

  “Sam …” Keith said with a cautionary tone.

  “No! Don’t you dare!” he snapped back to the stunned group. “I have to face what I’ve done and I’m not happy! Not one goddamn bit. Is that okay with you?”

  “Seriously, Sam,” Keith cautioned. Sam was enraged by Keith’s cautioning, the veins in his forehead bulging. If he could see Kirsty’s face, he would have known the reason why.

  Sam turned on Keith and shouted, seconds away from attacking him, “No, not seriously, I–”

  “Sam, get a reality check!” Kirsty exploded. She stood up with the SA80 in hand, suddenly looming over him. “Do you think you’re the only who’s killed someone? We all have. Each and every one of us sat here have ended a life. Do we like it? No. None of us are okay with it. None of us are okay! We’ll never be okay. So welcome to the club, Sam. You’ve done what you had to. You’ve done what you had to do to survive!”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have survived,” Sam said coldly after a moment of silence, taking in what had been said.

  “Then die,” Kirsty shrugged and placed the barrel of the gun to his chest. He flinched, only for a second, but he didn’t move away. Kirsty stared him in the eye and asked, “Do you want to die?”

  Sam sat there and just stared back, eyes a hard stare in return.

  “No,” he answered without emotion.

  “Good, now act like a survivor and talk about it. This is Killers Anonymous, the first session. We’ll sit in this park and we’ll talk,” Kirsty announced, looking at each and every one of them. Then she sat next to Keith, tears in her eyes, yet she smiled. Not because she was happy, she hurt too much to be truly happy, but because Sam was smiling. She didn't think she could smile for
herself – not just yet anyway.

  CHAPTER 20

  Sam

  It sounded ridiculous. Killers Anonymous. What would it solve? The psychologist in me believed in the idea. Talking over an issue and having a good social network in times of distress was an effective way to deal with stressors. Yet, I mentally scoffed at the idea. My logic was built on years of book learning. My beliefs were created by years of reinforced cynicism – it was only natural that I didn’t have faith in the idea. Still, when I started talking, I couldn’t stop.

  The words flowed out, faster than I could think about what I was saying. I said how I felt helpless and terrified at what I was capable of. I spoke about how I was sad that I’d taken a life which had so much potential – and then about the absurdity of that statement, after all, every life had potential in an undead world. And I just kept going.

  I moved beyond the guilt from the shootout and spoke about my fears for my family and what I’d left them to deal with. And still, I wasn’t done. There was so much more I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about my life pre-apocalypse. What I was dealing with. What I wanted to flee from.

  Then I was back to the present, my thought patterns an erratic and confusing mess. I wanted to talk about Alice, but couldn’t bring myself to voice those thoughts – it would confirm everything Stephanie had said in her attack of me. I couldn’t deal with that – it would break me. I was scared that putting the thoughts into words would make them a reality.

  Before I knew it, I’d run out of things to talk about – things I was willing to talk about. No one said anything, but they nodded affirmations to confirm they’d heard me. Did I feel better? I didn’t know. I felt weak. Exposed. I temporarily regretted what I’d said, but Keith spoke next and filled the silence.