Six Days With the Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  Once they were on the road again Liz began to wipe dry her blade on a rag, removing all of the rain water. She could not afford rust spots to weaken the metal, her life, and those she loved depended on its integrity. Once she was satisfied it was perfectly clean and dry, she slid the blade home into its sheath. Every so often the thunder clouds above them would still crash into each other, sending down more rain, while the following lightning would flash across the sky. To Liz it soon became a natural background noise and with the gentle rhythmic drumming of the rain on the roof above her, she soon found herself fighting against drooping eyelids. Each time she found her head nodding forward she would force open her eyes again trying to stay awake. The last few days of being constantly on edge and having too little uninterrupted sleep had taken their toll on her. She could feel Imran’s comforting presence next to her, his hand resting on her thigh.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he whispered, softly stroking her leg, ‘you can take a nap, I’ll wake you if anything happens.’

  Moving his arm to sit around her shoulder, Imran pulled her a little closer to his body. Still resistant to the sleep her body craved, Liz tried in vain to stay awake but almost instantly her head was comfortably resting against his shoulder, her eyes beginning to close again.

  ‘Are they still with us?’ Charlie asked, snapping Liz awake.

  ‘Oh, how long was I asleep?’ She asked, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

  ‘About an hour,’ Imran replied, gently kissing the top of her head. ‘We’re just about to pull into St Mawgan.’

  ‘Great… ’ Liz said, stretching as much as she could in the cramped confines of the cart.

  ‘Well, are they still with us?’ Charlie repeated. ‘They keep falling behind and I don’t want to lose them at this turning.’

  Liz looked through one of the spy holes in the back wall of the cart. Outside, what little daylight was left, was still obscured by the thick storm cloud cover. The rain still fell in thick heavy drops and as Liz watched the other cart come into view, thunder rumbled overhead.

  ‘Yes, they’re still there,’ Liz said, watching the poor exhausted horse pull the Reverend and his family behind them.

  Then a strike of lightning briefly lit up the sky with a flash and in that instant Liz saw the silhouetted shape of one of the Dead struggling to right itself on the road behind the Reverend’s cart. They must have run into it and knocked it to the ground as they passed by, it was obviously a Wanderer and must have stumbled onto the road through the roadside hedgerow.

  ‘Good,’ Charlie said, ‘here we are, Jackson’s place coming up, nearly home.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we let him know about the raiders?’ Liz asked.

  Jackson may be a bit odd but she liked the old fool and wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.

  ‘I want to get back to the convent asap to make sure everything is ok first,’ Charlie replied, as Delilah slowly pulled them past the fortified school building Jackson had made his home ‘I’ll fill him in tomorrow and try to convince him to stay at the convent for a few days… just in case.

  As they passed Jackson’s home, Liz knew that in just forty-five minutes they would reach the large fallen tree that blocked the direct route to the village from Lanherne, then after fifteen minutes on the long tree lined lane and they would be home. She knew that as soon as they passed through the large double gates of the Convent, the adrenalin induced tension in her muscles would ease and for the first time in the last few days she could really relax.

  By the time they reached the fallen tree the rain had reduced to a drizzle and the heavy clouds had started to disperse, revealing a star speckled evening sky. It was as if as they came closer to their home, all the wild horrors of the outside world had been left behind them. The walls of the Lanherne Convent seemed somehow blessed, keeping those within protected from the death and devastation that stalked across Cornwall, England and the rest of the world. Liz had often wondered what was happening in other countries. With the UK being an island, she hoped one day someone would finally find a way of eradicating all of the walking Dead. On the Continent though, the sheer numbers of the Dead were impossible to contemplate and she doubted if the majority of the globe would ever be reclaimed from its Dead masters.

  When the Dead came to change the world, countries very soon became insular, so concerned with their own affairs, that they each forgot their Dead neighbours crossing the now pointless borders to feast on the living. Charlie had said that many had fled the large continents, seeking sanctuary on islands where the numbers of the Dead were more manageable. The Isle of White, Isle of Man and the Channel islands had become meccas to any who could get on a boat or plane. Inevitably though, these havens, swamped by refugees, soon succumbed to the Dead just like everywhere else. The remote islands off the Scottish coast had seemed like a better bet for many. But the remoteness and low population density that had originally been their attraction, in reality only meant limited resources and a slow drawn out starvation. There had been tales of remote islanders killing refugees, who fleeing the mainland, had washed up on their shores. It was even said that some island communities who had initially welcomed their visitors with open arms, ultimately turned on these weary outsiders with cannibalistic intent.

  As Delilah began to pull them up the long tree line road to the convent, Liz opened the top hatch to view their home through the binoculars. As usual, the convent was nothing but a dark silhouette sat among the fields. Hiding themselves away from unwanted attention, torches would only be lit if they needed to deal with the Dead outside the walls. Even the smallest light would be a beacon, signalling to all who could see it, that the living had found refuge here. At this distance Liz could see the shadowy figures patrolling the perimeter walkway but was unable to identify who they were. Lowering the binoculars she whispered down to Charlie.

  ‘Everything seems to be OK.’

  ‘Well, we won’t know for certain until we’re at the gates,’ Charlie replied.

  As Liz retuned to look at the approaching convent, a sleek shadow darted out from the tree line, crossed the road and disappeared into the field on the other side. From the size of it, Liz took it to be a fox. Then with a rustle, another larger shape broke cover to sprint across their path after the fox. Even in the darkness, Liz could just make out the shaggy blond coat of the mangy Golden Retriever they had encountered when they had first begun their trip. Liz hoped the dog would catch its meal, despite what she had witnessed the pack do to the man in the field, this starving dog had attacked and claimed the Dead woman’s corpse without giving them a second glance. She wondered if they could somehow catch the poor beast. Just like Jackson was doing, it would be good to have a guard dog and this one either knew the difference between the living and the Dead or it was old enough to remember human companionship.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Liz asked.

  ‘Yep,’ Charlie replied, ‘looks like that mutt’s decided to stick around for a while.’

  Finally the high stone walls of Lanherne loomed before them and they waited by the first gate to be let in. Liz turned to make sure the Reverend was still with them and sure enough, they had pulled their cart to a stop just behind their own. She could hear the Reverend and his wife talking quietly in their cart. From the rhythm of the speech she thought they may be praying but each time she got a hold of a word, the rest would be snatched away by the wind.

  ‘When we go through, the gates will close behind us,’ Liz called to the cart parked behind them. ‘We get checked for the Dead before we’re let into the Convent proper and when we’re in, the gate will then open for you to be checked.’

  The praying sounds stopped abruptly as Liz spoke but there was no indication that they had understood what was going to happen. Looking up at the walkway she recognised the bulky shape of Phil at the winch. She could tell from the movement of his shoulders that his thick muscular arms were beginning to turn the handle that slowly opened the gate. With a creaking sound, the large
gate before them began to swing open. Once it was wide enough Charlie urged Delilah forward with a gentle clicking sound. She did not need to be told twice. The faithful mare knew she was home and that a feed in a warm stable awaited her. Watching the gate slowly closing again behind them, Liz thought she caught a glimpse of the Reverend’s dark shining eyes watching her through the front view slit of his cart. As the gate closed with a ‘clunk’ sound, the holding area was suddenly awash with torch light. Phil’s smiling face appeared in a halo of golden flickering light.

  ‘Clear,’ he said, once he had checked none of the Dead had followed them in. ‘Welcome home Liz, glad to see you got back safe. We’ve missed you.’

  ‘Glad to be home,’ she replied with a smile.

  Waving up to him, she jumped down from the cart checking the undercarriage for Dead hangers on. Seeing that this too was clear, she gave Phil the signal that all was ok and the inner gate slowly began to open. With each turn of the winch handle the gate opened wider for them. Liz could feel her tense muscles slowly relaxing more and more with each centimetre the gate moved. With a sigh the tension left her body. She had survived another trip among the Dead, to come home safe and sound to the people she loved.

  Leading Delilah by her bit, Liz guided her through the inner gate. Once they were through, Phil began to wind the winch in the opposite direction, closing the gate behind them.

  ‘Thank you for getting us home,’ Liz said, patting Delilah’s muzzle softly.

  As if knowing what Liz had said, Delilah gave a gentle snort and pushed lightly against her hand.

  ‘Elizabeth! So glad you managed to come back safe to us,’ Lars said, walking up to unhitch Delilah and take her for a good rub down and feed, ‘and Imran and Charlie, are they ok too?’

  ‘Yes Lars, it was a real shitty trip but we all came home in one piece. We’ll be having a meeting about everything later. So come up to the Refectory when you’re done with Delilah.’

  ‘Oh, that doesn’t sound like good news,’ he replied, as he began releasing Delilah from her harness.

  ‘It’s not,’ Liz said, just as a small body ploughed into her, almost knocking her to the floor ‘…Hey, hey, careful.’

  The small body, all blond curls and happy giggles looked up at her.

  ‘Lizzy, you’re home! I’ve missed you so much. Did you bring me anything?’ Anne said, throwing her small arms around Liz’s waist.

  ‘Perhaps… ’ Liz said thinking of the box of cake mix they had found, ‘though Sister Rebecca will have to cook it first. Have you been good for Alice and Mohammed?’

  ‘Yes of course,’ Anne replied, though Liz doubted that she was being strictly truthful.

  ‘Mmm… if you say so,’ Liz said, ruffling her sisters hair ‘can you let everybody know there’ll be a meeting in about an hour and ask Sister Claire to come out, we’ve got some new livestock for her’

  ‘Oooh, what have we got? Not more goats I hope,’ Anne replied, scrunching up her face.

  ‘No, pigs,’ Charlie said, as Imran pulled the small crate containing Stinky and Rat-bag out of the cart.

  ‘Charlie! Imran!’ Anne cried, running to the solider and throwing her arms around him

  Liz watched Charlie gather Anne up in his arms, giving her a tight hug and a kiss. For Anne, Charlie was the father she had never known and although Liz would never forget the love their real father had showered onto her, she too looked upon Charlie this way. She had already lost one father to the Dead and the thought of losing Charlie in such a manner made her feel physically sick.

  ‘Hey, mind if I get a go?’ a voice said walking into the orange glow of one of the torches.

  Charlie looked up, a smile on his lips and a playful glint in his eyes.

  ‘Mind if I say hello to Alice, pipsqueak?’ Charlie said, patting Anne on the back, never taking his eyes of the beautiful woman slowly walking towards him.

  Giggling, Anne made a kissing face and released Charlie to give Imran a welcome home hug too.

  ‘Hello’ Charlie said, with a softness in his voice Liz rarely heard coming from him.

  Alice was standing directly in front of him now, her eyes slowly taking in every detail of his face.

  ‘Hello,’ she replied, almost whispering, and then she leant forward touching her lips gently to his.

  Losing themselves in each others embrace, they kissed. In that moment there were no raiders, no murdered families, and the Dead did not walk. All the horrors they had witnessed over the last few days were washed away with that kiss and the world was full of hope again. As Liz watched two of the people she loved most in the world, find love themselves, she felt a warmth blooming through her chest. Perhaps things were going to be alright after all.

  ‘Later,’ Alice whispered in his ear, a smile on her lips.

  Giving her a final squeeze and a kiss on her forehead, Charlie released her.

  ‘Later,’ he echoed, giving her a quick wink.

  With a loud creaking sound, the gate inside gate opened allowing the Reverend’s cart to enter.

  ‘The O’Briens?’ Alice asked, looking at Liz.

  Liz gently shook her head and with that single gesture Alice knew the O’Briens were no longer alive.

  ‘Oh, no…’ she said, looking up at Charlie. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Raiders got to them before we did, but that’s not all. The Penhaligans are gone too,’ he replied, hating to see to the mix of fear and sadness in Alice’s eyes.

  ‘So who are our guests?’ Alice said, nodding towards the strange cart with its horse on the point of collapse.

  ‘A Reverend, his wife and their new baby,’ Charlie said, watching the cart pull up along side their own ‘Anne can you go get Sister Josephine. She should meet our arrivals.’

  Nodding, Anne ran off to find the Mother Superior and tell everyone on the way there was a meeting later. The side hatch of the Reverend’s cart opened with a bang as Ruth jumped down to the courtyard surface. Turning, she held up her arms for her husband to pass her their baby down. Ruth was shorter than Liz had expected and with her pale complexion, delicate face and clear blue eyes, Liz thought all she needed were wings to complete the look and she would be the embodiment of a fairy. A fairy though, that had given birth a few days ago, as Liz could see Ruth’s stomach was still distended under her clothes. The Reverend passed the baby to his wife, a little roughly in Liz’s opinion and then jumped down himself. Standing next to his wife, the contrast between them was visually jarring. Towering over his shorter wife, the Reverend must have been well over six feet tall. The two new arrivals looked around at their new home, seeming to examine and take in every detail. Nathan was looking back up at the gates winch mechanism when Charlie walked over to him.

  ‘Well, this is our home Reverend. Welcome to Lanherne,’ Charlie said. ‘This is Alice.’

  ‘Hello’ Ruth said, adjusting the baby in her arms so she could shake Alice’s hand, while Nathan only nodded and gave her an odd smile, his attention firmly on Imran as he gave Liz a quick kiss.

  ‘Welcome to our home,’ Sister Josephine said, as she appeared from the shadows with Sister Claire and Nadine to greet the new family. ‘I’m Sister Josephine, the Mother Superior of Lanherne Convent, this is Sister Claire our farming expert, and this is Nadine, she’ll need to check you for infection and lice, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Mother Superior,’ Nathan said, clasping the old woman’s hands in his own, ‘I am the Reverend Nathan Moore, my wife Ruth, and our child. You need not fret, as I told the Sergeant, we are untouched by the Damned. Our Lord has watched over us and judged us worthy of his protection. Our souls are pure.’

  ‘Oh,’ Sister Josephine said, a little taken aback by the strangers reply. ‘And does your baby have a name?’

  Glancing briefly to his wife, the Reverend said ‘We have not yet decided what to name the boy… but the Lord will guide us when He is ready’

  ‘And don’t worry about lice, I was a nurse so I know we’re not infested, but
you’re welcome to check if you wish’ Ruth said, smiling from one of the women to the next.

  ‘A nurse! Oh, you don’t know how glad I am to hear that,’ Nadine said, clapping her hands together, ‘I was dreading playing doctor for Emma’s delivery. Where is Emma by the way?’

  A look from Charlie and the momentary joy fell from Nadine’s face. Sister Josephine and Claire crossed themselves.

  ‘We shall pray for them tonight,’ Sister Josephine said, sighing. ‘Of course you’re welcome to join us, Reverend.’

  ‘I’m afraid we need to have a meeting with everyone first, Sister,’ Charlie said ‘I think they need to know what’s been going on out there.’

  ‘Yes, yes of course,’ Sister Josephine replied nodding.

  She trusted Charlie completely with their safety and would never question his judgement on such matters.

  ‘Well why don’t you both follow me, I’ll find you a room and then you can meet the others in the Refectory later,’ she said, leading the Reverend away by his elbow, ‘and tomorrow you’ll both be able to see how we keep things running here.’

  As he was led away by Sister Josephine, the Reverend Moore’s eyes never left Imran and Liz, until Ruth, quietly saying his name, pulled his attention back to something the Sister was telling him.

  ‘Oh, it is sad about poor Emma and her baby,’ Sister Claire said, as the new arrivals entered the convent building with Sister Josephine. ‘Well Charlie, you left to come back with a family and you did that I suppose.’

  ‘I think I’d have preferred Emma and Daniel,’ he said, mulling something over in his head. ‘Anyway… so do you know anything about breeding pigs? We’ve named them Stinky and Ratbag. I’m sure you’ll work out which is which soon enough.’

  ‘Pigs!... they’ll be a boon for our livestock and I see you’ve got more chickens too… marvellous,’ Sister Catherine said, looking over at the crate attached to the small trailer. ‘Is all this from the O’Briens?’