Six Days With the Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  Delilah had soon pulled them all the way to the other side of the bay and there was still no sign of Emma.

  ‘Right,’ Charlie said, pulling Delilah to a stop. Looking at Liz they both knew chances were not looking good for finding Emma alive. ‘I think our last option is that we shout for Emma for a few minutes. There’s been no sign of any more of the Dead, so we should be OK. Other than that, I can’t think how else we’ll attract her attention.’

  Liz knew Charlie was right. As horrible as it made her feel, they couldn’t waste any more time here, they had to get back to the convent. This would be Emma’s last chance. Jumping down from the cart, Liz cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted Emma’s name as loud as she could. With the words echoed round the small bay, Liz’s eyes scanned the vista for any movement that could signal Emma was there.

  ‘Come on, please come out, please come out,’ Liz said to herself, as she called for Emma again and again. After five minutes of shouting Liz looked up at Charlie.

  ‘Come on Liz, get back in,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘we’ve done all we can here, I’m sorry.’

  Even as she climbed back into the cart, she couldn’t take her eyes from the small buildings that circled the bay. She scanned each one, one last time, hoping to catch some movement at a window. Even then, she still hoped Emma would appear, waving to them. But a haunting silence had descended upon the bay and Liz knew this place would never hear the delighted squeals of an infant taking its first steps or the comforting lullaby sung by a loving parent. Only the lonely ghosts of ‘what could’ve been’ inhabited Cawsands Bay now. Closing the side hatch, Liz stood up to watch alongside Imran, while the quiet bay slowly disappeared behind them.

  ‘Sorry Emma,’ Liz whispered, as Imran put his arm around her and gently pulled her back into the cart.

  For the next half an hour no-one spoke, Delilah’s hooves clip-clopping on the cracked road surface and the piglets occasional squeals, the only sounds filling the cart. Each of them felt they had somehow failed Daniel, Emma and their unborn baby. Even though logically, they knew the terrible events that had taken place in the bay had been over hours before they had arrived, it didn’t help them feel less guilty about it all.

  ‘God, what a shit couple of days,’ Liz said, at last breaking the sombre silence that had descended on them, ‘I’ll be glad to get home. How long will it take Charlie?’

  ‘Well barring any mishaps and disasters, we’ll get home sometime this evening. Just in time for dinner hopefully,’ he replied.

  ‘Perhaps we can convince Sister Rebecca to give us chicken to celebrate our return?’ Imran said, finishing off the last of the tough, stale bread.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve got much to celebrate,’ Liz said. ‘Two outposts wiped out, that’s seven people killed Imran, if you count Emma’s baby, all gone for no reason.’

  ‘Liz, we’re alive and apart from the lump on your head, we’re ok too,’ Charlie said. ‘The way the world is now, I think that’s worth celebrating.’

  Liz begrudgingly agreed with a ‘Humph’ noise, though she clearly wasn’t convinced. After all this time, she thought she would have got used to people dying and to some extent she had, but it was the pointless way someone had killed these innocent people that affected her so much.

  ‘Oh and don’t forget Stinky and Ratbag,’ Charlie continued, ‘they’ll be a whole new resource for the convent.’

  ‘Let’s just get home in one piece shall we,’ Liz said still not convinced.

  ****

  Leaving Cawsands Bay behind them, the lane soon turned away from the coast and veered back into the overgrown countryside. The wild meadows, fenced in by the high hedgerows spilling into the road, soon returned and the call of the gulls faded to be replaced by a myriad of song birds.

  They had been travelling for an hour now, the morning was cool, the sky overhead was clear and blue and each one of Delilah’s reliable footsteps was taking them just that bit closer to home. Reaching a junction where another lane joined theirs, Charlie pulled Delilah to a slow halt.

  ‘Shit,’ he said, reaching for the folded map.

  ‘Oh, what now?’ Liz said, looking through the front view slit.

  Across the lane about twenty metres away, a large fallen tree blocked their passage. Obviously the victim of a lightning strike, the tree’s burnt and splintered trunk looked far too heavy to move. They would have to find another way round.

  ‘Well, we’re here,’ Charlie said, pointing to their position on the map. ‘We’re not going to be able to shift that tree ,so it looks like we’ll have to take the other lane.’

  Quickly tracing the new lane with his finger, Imran followed the squiggling lines on the map.

  ‘Look, it leads to this road here,’ he said, pointing to a point where the new lane crossed yet another road. ‘If we then double back a bit on that one, we can get onto the road we want again down here. It’ll probably add another hour or so, to our journey time, but it’s not as if we have a choice.’

  ‘Right,’ Charlie said, without further discussion on the matter, flicked the reins for Delilah to start off again ‘don’t forget to mark the blocked route with an ‘X’, so we’ll know for next time.’

  Imran found the black pen and did as he was asked, adding the words ‘fallen tree’ in tiny letters. If it ever became imperative that the lane be used, they would know why the ‘X’ was there and could come with axes and saws to deal with it. So they started on their detour down the lane, with nothing to distinguish it from the many other small roads weaving in and out of the Cornish countryside, apart from this one was perhaps in an even worse state of repair. The broken road could barely hold together as the cart bounced over its uneven, cracked surface. The cart’s motion caused those inside to rattle about, desperately trying to brace themselves against the largest bumps. Even with Charlie going slowly and taking extra care, the cart still rocked back and forth, as the wheels slowly fell into the potholes and large cracks. Stinky and Ratbag were particularly vocal in their displeasure at being knocked around so much and behind them the chickens would become agitated each time the cart jolted.

  ‘The road surface gets a bit better up ahead,’ Charlie said, peering past Delilah’s muscular shoulders.

  ‘Thank God,’ Imran said ‘My arse hurts from all this banging around.’

  The cart, having been designed as a practical means of transport, was sorely lacking in any comfort for its occupants. Even when sitting on their rolled up blankets, the bounces and knocks would inevitably lead to some light bruising for all. Bruises of course where not such a hardship to put up with if they could travel safely through the countryside without attracting too much attention from the Dead.

  Soon, as Charlie had promised, the road surface became even, and their journey a lot more bearable. The piglets, grateful for the smoother ride quietened down, eventually drifting off to sleep, lulled by the gentle rocking motion. For the next forty-five minutes the occupants, human and animal, travelled in a restful silence. Liz had her head leaning against the side of the cart, watching through one of the spy holes the seemingly never ending hedgerow pass by. After a while, the scene through the spy hole became nothing more than changing shades of green. Occasionally, a riot of elderflower blooms would break up the green flowing by, their creamy brilliance accentuated by their contrast.

  ‘The turning’s coming up around the next bend,’ Charlie said glancing at the map.

  Sure enough, as they turned the corner, they could see the junction up ahead. Turning right they were now on a road that would lead them back to the other side of the tree-blocked lane.

  ‘Stop!’ Liz said, banging on the cart’s side. Abruptly Charlie pulled Delilah to a standstill and turned back to Liz.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Behind us,’ she replied, gesturing through the spy hole. Moving so they could look through the holes, Imran and Charlie soon realised why they had stopped. Back along the left turning of the r
oad they had passed, were two crashed vehicles. In a world torn apart by the Dead this wouldn’t normally have been of any interest, except that one of them was an ambulance. From the state of the rusting paintwork and ivy climbing over the bonnet, the ambulance had been there for years. If they were lucky it may have crashed when the Dead first struck humanity, which would mean there may be medical supplies on board. As valuable as gold, they couldn’t leave the ambulance unchecked and miss the opportunity of finding painkillers. The other vehicle was a supermarket delivery van. One of them had obviously been travelling at speed and as it came round the corner, noticing the other coming in the opposite direction too late.

  ‘You never know, we might even find some seven year old groceries in that one,’ Imran said grinning.

  ‘It’s the ambulance we need to check out, you jerk,’ Liz said. ‘We didn’t stop so you could grab a tin of peaches past their best.’

  ‘Well, you never know,’ Imran replied opening the top hatch to check for any dangers. Ducking his head back down, ‘from what I can see there’s a Dead person trapped in the driving seat of the ambulance but the other van is clear. Whoever was driving that one, went straight through the windscreen and is long gone.’

  ‘Right, Imran you stay here and keep us covered. Liz with me,’ Charlie said grabbing a sack as he opened the side hatch and jumped down to the road.

  Liz followed him and they began the short walk back to the ambulance.

  ‘The one in the front looks pretty rotten, so he won’t be able to put up much of a fight. It’s what we can’t see in the back that’s the problem. Let’s just hope it’s not crammed full of the Dead,’ Charlie said, as they neared the crashed ambulance.

  Putting the sack to the ground, Charlie pulled free one of his ice picks.

  ‘Ready?’ Liz asked, her hand hovering over the handle on one of the back doors.

  With a nod Charlie readied himself. Rusted hinges screeched, shattering the silence of the still lane, as Liz pulled open the door with a tug. The smell of old rotting flesh assaulted their senses, making eyes water and throats tighten. Fighting the urge to gag, Liz pulled open the other door. Light filled the interior of the ambulance, revealing its occupants for the first time in many years. Apart from the driver, the ambulance held two other long Dead passengers. One had been strapped to a bed, while the other was slumped to the floor. Looking up at Liz with dry withered Dead eyes, the one on the floor was so emaciated it was unable to stand or move towards the flesh it so desperately desired. The figure that had been strapped to the bed was in an equal state of decay. Its flesh had almost putrefied on its bones. Rotting matter had seeped through the blanket that covered it, and dripped to the floor, leaving large sticky pools of gore.

  ‘Christ,’ Liz said, covering her mouth.

  It was rare to find the Dead from those first weeks of chaos, sealed away like this. Normally they would be lying in fields or the roadside, where insects and the elements slowly ate away at them, removing them from existence piece by piece. Stepping in front of her, Charlie soon dispatched the body strapped to the bed and quickly moved onto the thing collapsed on the floor. The figure caught by its seatbelt in the front began to shake, somehow mustering up the last of its reserves in an attempt to get to the flesh it knew was behind it. It had only just managed to turn its skeletal head towards them before Charlie’s ice pick plunged through its right eye socket. With a crunch and grinding sound, Charlie pushed the ice pick deeper into the thing’s cranium, to scramble what little was left of its mushy brain.

  Immediately, Liz began opening the overhead compartments to remove anything that could prove useful. Sterilizing wipes, bandages, antiseptic creams, syringes, as well as some much needed vials of morphine all went in, together with a myriad of other items Liz did not recognise but looked potentially handy. Charlie found stashed under a seat a portable surgical kit together, with two neck braces and some inflatable splints that could be used to protect broken limbs. Loath to leave anything they could possible use, Charlie and Liz took all that they could. Eventually they left only the defibrillator and a few other electrical devices they wouldn’t be able to use and walked back to the cart laden with their precious booty.

  ‘Well aren’t you at least going to check the food van?’ Imran asked, as Liz and Charlie tried to find space in the already cramped cart for the medical supplies.

  ‘Oh alright, if it’s going to stop you moaning,’ Charlie said reaching for a crowbar.

  Charlie made his way to the rusting blue and white van. Glancing into the empty front cabin, Charlie saw that Imran had been right. The driver must have gone through the windscreen as the van crashed into the ambulance before it ricocheted off, to finally come to a stop at the side of the road. Jamming the crowbar into the locked metal roll shutter, Charlie began to break the lock. He made a point of not bothering with the smaller chiller and freezer section of the van, there would be nothing in there but stink and mould. With a bang the lock broke and Charlie pushed up the roll shutter. The supermarket van had obviously been at the tail end of its delivery schedule, for on one side was a stack of the large empty green plastic boxes. But they were in luck, sitting on a rack were four boxes that, thanks to the crash, had failed to reach their destination. Using the crowbar, Charlie hooked each box in turn and pulled it from the van. Taking each plastic bag out one at a time, Charlie tore them open to see what, if any delights they held. A few of the bags sloshed with putrid liquid and he threw these to the side of the road, he didn’t need to look in those. Once he had gone through all of the boxes, he loaded his finds back into one of the boxes and walked back to the cart, a large smile on his face.

  ‘Ok, it was a good idea, I’ll give you that,’ Charlie said smiling, as he hoisted the box up into the cart. ‘I feel like Father Christmas.’

  Liz and Imran looked down at the haul in front of them, only half remembering what many of the things were. There were some tins of fruit, a large jar of Marmite, four packets of freeze dried noodles, some dried packet pasta-in-sauce, two boxes of chocolate cake mix, some shampoo, a bottle of thick bleach, washing detergent, six cans of fizzy soft drink and the jewel of the find as far as Charlie was concerned, four cans of lager.

  ‘Wow,’ Liz said, picking up the bottle of shampoo.

  Turning so it caught the light, she watched an air bubble slowly rise to the surface through the thick emerald green liquid. Flicking open the lid, she inhaled deeply, filling her nose with the fresh herby smell.

  ‘Now I really can’t wait to get home and shower,’ she continued, laying the bottle down with care, like it was a fragile child.

  ‘Well, with all the crap we’ve had to deal with, I think we deserve a little treat,’ Charlie said, offering a can of lager to Liz and Imran. They both refused, preferring to have a can of soft drink each. With a blast of escaping fizz, all three cans were opened.

  ‘Cheers,’ Charlie said taking a gulp of his lager, soon followed by a burp and a sigh of pleasure.

  ‘Ah… that’s the stuff alright. I’d forgotten how good it tasted,’ he said taking another glug.

  Liz sipped her fizzy drink, savouring the sweet fruity taste as it washed over her tongue. Placing his can down, Charlie reached for a tin of fruit in syrup. He tried a few times to remove the ring-pull lid but it was difficult with only one hand, so he passed it to Imran to do the honours.

  ‘Peaches!’ Imran said, raising an eyebrow at Liz.

  The golden peach halves sitting in their tin of syrup, seemed to glow in the dim light of the cart. Charlie quickly found three plastic forks stashed in a rucksack and handed them round. Once each of them had speared a peach half on their fork, they took a bite. The taste was amazing and as warm flavour exploded inside their mouths, Liz remembered sitting in front of the television in her dressing gown, eating tinned peaches with evaporated milk, while behind her on the sofa her heavily pregnant mother knitted a hat for the then unborn baby Anne. Thinking of Anne, she was immediately flooded with
guilt. She shouldn’t be sitting here enjoying herself when who knows what, could be happening at the convent.

  ‘We should get going,’ she said, ‘we can eat these just as easily on the move.’

  Agreeing with her, Charlie turned back around and flicking Delilah’s reins they set off again. Every so often he would take a sip from his can of lager, savouring each precious mouthful, until finally it was gone.

  ‘You know, I think sister Rebecca should make up one of the cake mixes when we get back, I can’t wait to see Anne’s face when she first tastes chocolate cake,’ Charlie chuckled to himself.

  Finding the old world food, not to mention the precious medical supplies, had lifted their spirits. The gloom that had descended on those in the cart since leaving Cawsands Bay had evaporated, to be replaced with a growing need to be among those they cared about as soon as possible. They needed to feel the safety that living behind the high convent walls gave them. There, they could shut out the horrors of the real world, if only for an instant. All those inside knew the little world they had created for themselves was nothing more than a happy illusion. An illusion that would shatter the moment they climbed up on to the walkway to see the world beyond, but it was an illusion they all needed. You just could not live your whole life with adrenalin pumping through your veins, always looking over your shoulder in case a walking corpse had found you. So with each corner they passed, and with each lane they travelled, the excitement grew within them. They soon re-joined the blocked road on the other side and were back on track. The delay the fallen tree had cost them had been much outweighed by the booty their detour had provided.