Once Charlie had found out her talent for retaining information, he had made it his mission to find some medical books for her. When the Dead had first attacked, the bitten were taken to hospitals only in turn to come back Dead themselves. Hospitals became blood baths, wiping out most of those with any medical knowledge overnight. Nadine was the survivor’s last chance to have some of that knowledge back. It had been decided, her only job at the convent was to absorb as much as she could from the medical texts Charlie brought her. She was to be their doctor and she was doing her damnedest not to let them down.
‘Oh Christ, sorry,’ Nadine said as she bent down to pick up the book, ‘not looking where I’m going, again.’
In her late thirties, Nadine had an appearance that Charlie thought of as bland. There was nothing in her face to bring her either merit or scorn. Short dull brown hair, over a perfectly average set of brown eyes, small straight nose and adequately shaped mouth. But it was her mind that was truly beautiful. He was glad she had Bryon to talk to. At least he could hold a conversation with her without feeling like an idiot. Charlie didn’t know if they were romantically involved but having been through so much together for so long, it was hard not find comfort in someone you had trusted with your life.
‘Just refreshing some details,’ Nadine said as she showed Liz the cover of the book she had been engrossed in. It was a book on midwifery. ‘It’s all very well knowing what to do, but doing it is going to be a lot different from reading about it.’ she continued.
One of the Outposter’s had a wife who was due to give birth within a few weeks and Nadine was expecting them to arrive at the convent any day.
‘Oh yes, for Emma O’Brien, she was huge the last time I saw her,’ Charlie said, ‘she’ll pop at any moment.’
Liz had met Emma on a few occasions, despite the couple deciding not to live within the Convent walls. She had been a nice enough woman if a little harsh.
There were half a dozen outposts dotted within a forty mile radius of the Convent. People had chosen all sorts of defendable strongholds and the type of stronghold varied as much as the people who lived in them. There was a salvage yard, another lived in a castle ruin and another a police station. Anything that could keep out the Dead, worked. Some people just thought they could only put their trust in themselves, when it came to protecting their family and Mr O’Brien was certainly one of those. Liz thought that if he hadn’t been worried about the labour, then she doubted Mr O’Brien would be bringing his wife to see Nadine at all.
‘Well I promised our new guest, Mr Parker, that I’d have a bit of a look around for his nephew when I do the rounds and I might as well go get Emma and Daniel at the same time. It’ll take a few days, to get there and back. We’ll pass at least two of the outposts on the way there so I can check on those too, warn them there may be raiding parties in the area.’ Charlie said, picturing the circular route in his mind’s eye.
‘Raiders?’ Nadine asked, looking slightly nervous.
‘Charlie thinks it may it may have been some raiders who killed Mr Parker’s brother,’ Liz said, ‘but don’t worry they’ll have a hard job getting in here.’
‘Well I hope so.’ Nadine said as she opened her book, still looking a little worried.
Like all survivors she had had to kill the slow Dead to save herself more times than she cared to remember, but going up against someone armed and alive, she doubted she would come out on top there.
‘Anyway,’ she continued ‘I’m going to finish up with this and I’ll see you at dinner.’ She began walking off, already lost in the pages of the book.
‘Who are you going to take with you tomorrow?’ Liz asked Charlie, as they resumed walking.
‘Well,’ he began, ‘I thought…’
‘I’m coming with you,’ she interrupted, ‘no arguments. You need someone you can trust to watch your back out there, particularly if there are raiders about.’
‘Well if you let me finish, I was going to say you and Imran should come,’ he said looking a bit irritated.
‘Well OK, that’s alright then.’ Liz said, a little disappointed she hadn’t had a chance to list her reasons. The argument over before it began, ‘We’d better go tell Imran, so he’s ready for tomorrow.’ she continued.
‘That boy’s always ready,’ Charlie said, a smile on his lips ‘and you’d better break the news to Anne, you know how she gets when you have to go outside.’
Even at her young age, Anne understood her older sister had responsibilities to the group. Not that she worried any the less, when Liz left the safety of the Convent. She had seen too many people say goodbye to loved ones and have them never return. It didn’t matter how good you were with a weapon, the outside world was a dangerous and unpredictable place.
They eventually found Imran and Anne together in the room he shared with his brother. Anne now washed and clean, sat on Mohammad’s bed watching Imran repairing some of his arrows, her large eyes intent on taking in every detail. Imran had promised to make her a bow of her own and more importantly, teach her how to use it with deadly accuracy. The room was similar to their own, except where she and Anne had their bunks drawn close together the brothers had theirs against each wall. On the floor in between the beds a small faded prayer mat had been laid. Stained and looking a little worse for wear, Liz didn’t know if Imran and his brother continued with their prayers out of belief or simply as a connection to the family they had lost.
Looking up as she they entered, Imran smiled at Liz. A natural open smile.
‘Hey, and what brings such a lovely lady to my door?’
But before she could say a word Charlie spoke.
‘I need to visit some of the Outposters tomorrow and also bring Emma O’Brien back so she can have her baby here. It’ll take a few days, so I want you and Liz to come with me.’
Instantly the smile dropped from Anne’s face, a worried look already replacing it.
‘Now don’t look at your sister like that young lady,’ Charlie said ‘you know as well as I, that with the three of us the Dead won’t stand a chance. We’ll be fine.’
Imran, catching Liz’s eye, knew there was more to this trip than just bringing Emma back. He was about to ask what, when Liz gave him the slightest shake of her head, the question dying on his lips. So it was something they didn’t want to worry Anne about, he was intrigued.
Liz went and sat down on the bed next to Anne.
‘Come on, you know we have to do this. You don’t want Emma having her baby alone with no one who knows what to do, do you?’ Liz said as she pushed some of sister’s unruly blond curls behind her ear, ‘I promise we’ll be as quick as we can, and as Charlie says we’ll only be a few days’
‘Three days tops.’ Charlie added.
‘Yeh, three days tops,’ Liz continued. She could see Anne wasn’t happy about her going but she was a sensible girl for her age. She would understand this needed to be done ‘Oh and I’m going to ask Alice to keep an eye on you, so there’s no more chicken poo moments’
Charlie raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘Don’t ask,’ Liz said, getting up, ‘now off you go with Charlie, it’s almost meal time.’ she said gesturing for her to leave.
‘Come on half pint, let’s leave these two love birds alone for a few minutes.’ He said as he gave Anne a wink.
Giggling, all worry momentarily gone, Anne followed Charlie out of the room. As they walked off to the refectory, Liz could hear her sister making loud kissing noises and the low rumble of Charlie’s laugh.
Imran put down the arrow he was holding and pulled Liz down onto his lap. She slipped off the harness that held her sword and putting her arms around his shoulders, looked deep into his dark eyes. Seeing the love she felt, reflected back at her, she leant forward. Eyes open, their mouths barely touching, feeling each other’s breath on their lips, they knew they belonged together. Imran lifted his hand to cup the back of her head, his fingers entwining in her short hair, his other ha
nd pulling her closer to him. And then he kissed her, softly at first, then building as a hunger overtook them both. The world fell away and all Liz could feel was Imran. He was everything. His lips, his tongue, the rapid beating of his heart mirroring her own. Then pulling back briefly and with desperate hands he lifted her t-shirt over her head. Liz arched towards him as Imran caressed her breasts, nipples and stomach.
‘Mine…’ he mumbled, claiming her body with his kisses as his hands ran up and down her back.
‘Yes, mine.’ Liz echoed, as she pushed him back on the bed and began to pull at his clothes.
The need to feel his skin against her body adding speed to her nimble fingers, as she unbuttoned his shirt. His slim muscular body called out to her with a desire they both needed to be satisfied. Soon they were both naked in each other’s arms, making love and exploring bodies with hands and mouths, a demanding passion consuming them both. When they were done, they lay entwined in each other’s limbs. A sheen of sweat covering their spent bodies, their rapid breath and beating hearts slowly returning to normal. Imran delicately stroked her arm as she lay across him.
‘I do love you, Liz.’ Imran said in barely a whisper.
She turned her head to look up at him and to her surprise she saw tears pricking his eyes.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said, cupping his face in her hands, concerned.
‘I’m scared,’ he said, ‘I love you so much, I don’t think I’d be able to cope if something happened to you’
‘Oh you moron,’ she replied, smiling, as she kissed away the tears ‘I’m not going anywhere, promise’
As she looked deep into his eyes, they both knew it was a promise she had no right making, not in this world of Dead. With one last soft kiss, full of both love and an unspoken sadness, Imran sighed.
‘Come on lets go get something to eat.’ He said as they untangled their limbs and dressed.
As they were about to leave the room Liz stopped him. Putting her hand on his chest she could feel the slow steady rhythm beating within.
‘Promise.’ she said, seriously looking up at him.
This small beautiful woman in front of him. This woman who had made life in this crap world bearable for him. This woman he knew he would kill and die for. This was the woman he loved with all that he was.
‘Promise.’ He replied, covering her hand with his.
After a brief pause he took her hand in his.
‘Come on.’ He said as he led her back down the hall to join the others.
****
As they entered the refectory, the other members of the convent were seated at the long wooden table, except Cam and Michael who were still on watch duty. Liz and Imran went to two of the empty wooden chairs and sat down together. Nicky passed Liz the plate of the dense grainy bread. It wasn’t very nice but once it was soaked in the soup it added needed bulk to their meals. Duncan had used his engineering knowledge to rig up a milling device down by the stream but there were still a few quirks that needed ironing out before they would get a fine flour from their grain. Nadine had also read about cultivating natural yeast spores that were permanently in the air. If she could get it to bloom in the culture, then at least they could have some bread that was a bit doughier.
Next to Nicky sat Justin, already spooning mouthfuls from the bowl that Sister Margaret had placed in front of him. In between mouthfuls of the thick soup, Justin was having an animated talk with Richard, Nicky’s’ husband, who was sitting on his other side. Rich was being sprayed with bits of soup, as the young boy got over excited about some detail of the tale he was telling. While Justin was otherwise engaged Nicky lent forward towards Liz.
‘I hear that the new arrival had a run in with some raiders,’ she whispered, not wanting Justin to hear ‘should we be worried?’
‘Charlie, myself and Imran are going to see some the outposts tomorrow, we’ll see if they’ve seen anything,’ Liz replied, ‘but to be on the safe side just keep an eye on where Justin is over the next few days… just in case.’
There was no point in worrying people until they knew what, if anything, they were dealing with. Nodding, Nicky’s’ arm subconsciously went around Justin’s’ shoulder, protectively. She glanced across the table to Barry, Rich’s brother, remembering another child. A child she failed in her duty as a mother to protect.
When the first cases of the dead attacking the living were being reported on the news, Nicky had been waiting at the arrivals gate for Rich. Rich had been in Saudi on a building contract for the last three months and she was impatient for him to walk through customs. When he finally came with his suitcases in tow two hours later, she had run into his arms in true Hollywood romance style. They had decided to have a bite to eat before leaving the airport and as they sat eating their sandwiches Nicky glanced over at a woman staring horrified at the monitor behind her. Turning round, her jaw dropped. Scenes of blood and carnage in London were being shown on the BBC. Frightened looking news reporters, telling of riots throughout London, Paris, Milan, all the major capitals of Europe. Riots, that seemed to be made up of dead people. Standing up slowly Nicky grabbed Rich. Leaving the luggage behind and running for their car, they both had one word screaming in their minds ‘Sam’. Nicky had left their nine year old son with Barry, her brother-in-law. She trusted Barry completely. He was a policeman and Sam loved spending time with his uncle. As the car joined the motorway her mobile rang, it was Barry. Just seeing the number on the screen her stomach dropped. Answering the call, Barry told her that Sam had been attacked by a crazy girl in the street. It wasn’t too bad though as she had only bitten his hand, which Barry had carefully disinfected. Barry had locked all the doors and windows and was now watching Transformers with Sam in the living room. Of course at that time, they didn’t know what was to come an hour or so later. By the time Nicky and Rich were only half an hour away from home the news on the radio had gone from horrific, to the stuff of nightmares. But it was when they mentioned the bites that Nicky realised her baby would die. She frantically dialled Barry’s phone number again and again, desperate to get through but only getting the service unavailable message. As their car pulled up to Barry’s house, she was out of the car and running to the front door before the car had even stopped. Opening the door Richard and Nicky ran through the house, calling his name over and over, desperate to find their son. Upstairs in the back bedroom they found Barry, tears running down his face as he held the limp body of Sam in his arms. A bloody towel lay over Sam’s head. Reaching to remove it, Barry caught her hand, stopping her. She did not need to see what was beneath to know her baby was gone. She did not remember much of the next few weeks. Running and hiding, sometimes fighting, it didn’t matter anymore to her. Weeks, turned in to months and Rich and Barry stayed with her, keeping her safe, keeping her alive. She carried with her a painful all-consuming guilt. Guilt for not being there to protect Sam and guilt for hating Barry, though rationally she knew he had had no choice in what he had done. Over the next few years they had travelled the south coast, avoiding the towns, moving from one settlement to the next. It didn’t matter to her. Faces, names, places, all were meaningless now. They had joined a small caravan of wagons and then one day Rich had brought to her the frail weeping Justin. It was if she had been given a chance to make amends. They had sat in the wagon holding each other weeping. Her own baby was gone and this child’s mother was also gone. They needed each other and she would build for them both a new life on that need.
‘So don’t say anything in front of Anne, please. I don’t want her to worry while I’m away’ Liz asked Nicky.
Liz knew she could rely on Alice to look after Anne while she was gone. If the worst happened and Liz never came back, they had discussed what would happen. Alice had agreed to take care of Anne permanently. In a world where people could be there one day and not the next, things like this often came up if someone you loved was dependent on you. Liz looked over at Alice who was sitting between Charlie and Duncan. She k
new if the worst ever happened, Anne would be safe in their care.
Duncan had been a God send to the members of the Convent community. He had designed and made the pump to draw water from the stream. He had built the mill, so they could now have bread, of a sort, and he had worked out the pullies on the gate system to keep them all safe. When the Dead had swept across the globe, Duncan had been an engineer on an oil drilling platform in the North Sea. Sat in the television room with the other riggers, he had watched the world fall apart, one horrific report at a time. Then, when the satellites stopped transmitting they could only assume the mainland was now lost to them. After only six months their supplies began to run out and they had been forced to survive on just fish and rain water. But then ships had started stopping at the rig, seeing it as a manmade island, an oasis in a world of walking dead. Rest and repairs had been bartered for supplies from these ocean going refugees. This had worked well for four years, until a cruiser out of control and full of the Dead had rammed into one of the supports. Escaping in a tug boat as the rig collapsed into the sea, he had become just another person looking for a safe haven in this new world. They had spent the next year travelling around the coast, making brief scavenging missions inland for fuel and any food they could find. But when they could no longer find the diesel they needed for the tug, he knew it was time to find a new way to live in this strange world. So, travelling from one community to the next, he earned safe passage through the Dead by designing and helping build the things that made life easier for those fighting to survive. When he joined the Convent community he decided life with no real ties to the living was hardly living at all, so he decided to stay.
Six Days With the Dead Page 5