‘No, please Uncle Barry, please,’ Justin begged, tears dropping from his eyes again as he clung to Barry.
‘You have to Justin, I’ve got to keep you safe. Please don’t make this any harder for me,’ Barry replied, his own tears mirroring Justin’s.
With one last hug, Barry gently manoeuvred Justin into the room. As he was closing the door he knelt down to look the terrified boy in the eyes.
‘Tell your Mum and Dad I’m sorry, and that I love you all very much.’
Slowly the door closed.
‘Now draw the bolt across Justin, come on, please, I must know you’re safe.’
Listening, he heard the small boy pull the bolt in place and slump to the floor in tears. Sitting down Barry held the gun in his lap, ready for the time when he would take his own life.
‘They know you love them Barry,’ Alice said, quietly through her door, choking back her own tears.
Obviously Barry had been bitten and was using his last moments to make sure Justin was out of danger.
‘Alice?’ Barry said in a whisper, a wave of burning pain shooting through his body
‘Yes Barry, I’m here. You’re not alone,’ she replied, laying her hand on the smooth wooden door, as if she was giving him a comforting touch.
‘Don’t know how much longer I can cope with this pain, Alice. It’s like hot knives pushing into me’ Barry said, breaking off to cough, blood now flecking his lips.
‘What are you going to do Barry?’ Alice asked knowing it was difficult to kill yourself without coming back as one of the Dead. ‘Barry?’
‘Goodbye Alice. Don’t let Justin see me like this, please,’ Barry said, as he placed the gun barrel under his chin and with a silent prayer to a god he doubted was listening, he pulled the trigger.
‘Oh, Barry…’ Alice whispered, with tears running down her face, as the single gunshot echoed through the corridor.
***
Imran had heard the horrific screams and even the sound of a single gunshot, as he made his way to the Chapel, but he had failed to come across anyone else yet. With his bow all but useless for close contact encounters, he now had a hunting knife ready in each hand, should he encounter any of his friends as newly Dead. Putting his ear to the heavily carved Chapel door, he listened for any movement. Hearing nothing, he gingerly pushed the door open. For the briefest of moments he thought he heard a foot scraping along stonework but, as he scanned the room from the doorway, it appeared empty. Crouching low, he stepped carefully into the room. With a dull click the door closed behind him. Keeping to the thin faded carpet that ran down the central aisle, he checked down each pew for anything amiss. As he reached half way to the communion rail he heard the definite sound of someone’s shaky breathing. Unable to pinpoint the origin of the sound, he was left with no option but to speak out and just hope whoever it was hadn’t been bitten.
‘Hello?...’ he said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. ‘Hello, is someone there?’
Suddenly there was the smallest of movement coming from one of the two confessional cubicles. Each had their dusty red velvet curtains closed and as Imran watched, first one foot came into view and then the other. Whoever had been hiding inside had obviously pulled their legs up onto the seat in an attempt to avoid detection. A shaky set of fingers carefully pulled aside the curtain to reveal a scared looking Nadine holding a heavy looking candlestick to her chest.
‘Oh, Imran!’ she said a look of relief on her face .‘The Dead are inside aren’t they? People are dying, I heard the screams.’
‘Yes, I heard them too. Is there anyone else in here with you?’ he asked hoping someone else was hiding.
‘No, it was empty when I came in,’ she replied, but even as she finished saying the words Sister Josephine’s head appeared over the small balcony above them.
‘I’m here too Imran,’ she said ‘I’ve barricaded the only door, give me a minute and I’ll come down.’
As Sister Josephine disappeared from view, they could hear her coming down the narrow creaking staircase that led up to the small storage area. Standing guard, Imran could hear Sister Josephine moving whatever she had used to block the door. In a few moments the small wooden door opened inwards to reveal a flushed Sister Josephine.
‘So what do we do now?’ Nadine asked, looking to Imran, a look of desperate panic in her eyes.
‘Right, I think you two should stay here until the situation has been dealt with,’ Imran said, taking charge of the two women much older than himself. ‘As we can’t lock the main chapel door from the inside, I think Sister Josephine had the right idea. The storage room seems perfect.’
‘Only perfect if you can put down all of the Dead,’ Nadine said, looking up at the small balcony, ‘otherwise it’s a death trap with no escape route.’
‘Well, it’s the best option we’ve got at the moment and as you’re not fighters I can’t take you with me, so we don’t have much choice I’m afraid,’ Imran said, ushering the two woman back inside. ‘I’ll come and get you when it’s all over but until then stay quiet.’
‘May your God go with you Imran,’ Sister Josephine said, solemnly as the door closed on the two scared women.
Imran listened to the two women replacing the barricade and when they were satisfied, he heard them climb up the creaking narrow stairs up to the tiny windowless room above.
‘Good luck,’ Nadine whispered down to him, her head popping over the edge of the balcony rail.
With a nod, Imran made his way quickly back to the Chapel door. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open and stepped through. He had decided to make his way through to the other side of Convent and on to the kitchen. There should be at least a few people there at this time of day and he hoped they had managed to find some sort of hiding place for themselves too. Somewhere ahead of him, Imran heard a second gunshot ring out.
***
Alice had her ear pressed tightly against the cell door, listening for any movement in the hall. She knew she needed to leave the room to see if the gun Barry had used to kill himself had been loaded with more bullets. With both her knife and metal bat gone, she was in desperate need of a weapon if she was going to be of any use to anyone. She was just about to open her door for a look when she heard the tell-tale moan of one of Dead coming down the hallway. Immediately in the cell next to hers Justin’s soft crying stopped. As upset as he was about his adopted uncle’s death, he knew if one of the Dead heard him inside the room, he would be in real trouble. Before he had joined the caravan that eventually ended up at Lanherne, Justin had spent months on his own avoiding the living and Dead alike, so he knew what he had to do to survive. The body that had once been Adrian barely paused as it walked passed the truly dead form of Barry lying crumpled on the floor, something inside it saying this was not what he needed to satisfy his burning need. Seeing nothing of interest here, the Dead Adrian continued down the staircase on its abominable quest for living flesh.
Once Alice was sure the coast was clear, she opened her door just a crack. Looking out, she could see Barry’s body slumped across Justin’s door, even in death determined to protect the boy. Stepping gingerly into the hall she bent down to retrieve the gun held loosely in Barry’s dead hand. It was then that she noticed the wounded finger that had ended the selfless man’s life. It was such a small injury but it had proved fatal, whatever caused the Dead to walk had raced through his body faster than most. She carefully checked the chambers of the gun and was relieved to see it was full apart from the one Barry had used on himself. Honouring the dead man’s last request Alice grabbed his body by the ankles and with some effort managed to pull his corpse into her cell. She may be able to spare Justin from seeing the body but there was nothing she could do at the moment about the mess of blood and skull fragments that had been sprayed up the wall as the bullet had passed through Barry’s brain. Closing her cell door, to hide Barry’s body from view, Alice tapped gently on Justin’s door.
‘Stay tight Jus
tin, I’ll come and get you when it’s safe. I promise, OK?’
‘OK.’ Justin said, in such a sad little voice, it tore at Alice’s heart to leave him here alone but she knew it was the right thing to do.
With the weight of the gun in her hand giving her courage, Alice went back down the stairs in pursuit of the Dead, determined to stop them before anyone else could fall victim to their unnatural appetites.
****
Ignorant of the bloody carnage happening at the Convent, Charlie and Liz were just pulling up to Jackson’s converted school house. Liz checked through the spy holes that all was clear, before she jumped down from the cart. Walking over to the basket of balls she selected a bright yellow plastic ball and threw it over the fence into Jackson’s domain. Almost instantly she heard the playful yapping of the puppy Jackson had taken in and obviously from the sound the dog was making, Toby’s training was going well.
‘Alright, alright. I heard you boy. Good boy, good Toby,’ Liz could hear Jackson just the other side of the wall of doors, praising the puppy for alerting him of visitors. Once the puppy had calmed down a bit Jackson called over the fence to them.
‘Who’s there? Who is it?’
‘It’s Liz and Charlie, Mr Jackson,’ Liz replied. ‘Charlie needs to let you know what’s been going on’
‘Why can’t they just leave us alone, hey Toby?’ Liz heard Mr Jackson saying quietly to the dog.
Thinking it may have been a wasted journey, Liz began to turn back to the cart, but stopped abruptly in her tracks. Standing not three meters away was the large matted form of the Golden Retriever they had encountered already twice before. Moving slowly, so as not to provoke an attack, Liz slowly reached her arm behind her to grip the handle of her sword. With a barely detectable click, the blade came free of its sheath but as if somehow knowing her intent, the dog began to growl menacingly. As she brought her sword forward, preparing to strike should the beast go for her, the dog’s growling intensified. It then began barking wildly at her and with saliva dripping from its teeth, she was sure the dog was about to spring at her. Even then, Liz didn’t want to be forced to kill the poor creature. But quicker than she thought the animal capable of, the dog darted forward. She automatically lifted her bladed, readying herself to strike.
‘No Liz!’ Charlie shouted from the cart beside her, startling her just long enough for the dog to speed past her.
Stunned, Liz turned quickly to see the dog leap up at a Dead woman who had approach her undetected from behind. With a flurry of matted fur and Dead limbs, the woman went down. Charlie had already jumped out of the cart and with his most authoritative voice he yelled, ‘Heel, Girl. Heel!’
Reluctantly the dog let go of the Dead woman’s shoulder, trotted over to Charlie and sat down. Charlie reached down to pat its filthy fur all the while the dog continued its growling at the Dead woman, who was trying to get up.
‘Jesus Charlie, how did you know?’ Liz said, slightly shocked he had been able to control the wild dog.
‘Just a guess I suppose, I…’ Charlie stopped what he was saying mid-sentence.
Liz puzzled, followed his line of sight to the Dead woman and instantly realised what had caught his attention. The Dead woman on the floor was still having difficulty getting herself back to a standing position. Her arms had been tied to her sides but that was not what concerned them and neither was the gag that had been rammed in her mouth. The thing that shocked them both, was that her belly had been sliced viciously open, revealing the ruined and ragged edges of her torn womb. Whoever had done this to her had taken no care in removing what they wanted from the woman. The Dead woman, or rather the Dead version of Emma O’Brien, for that was who it had once been, had a sad and almost haunted look on her face. If Liz ever wondered if the Dead remembered their past lives, it was now. The look on Emma’s face clearly showed the pain and loss any mother would feel having a child taken from them, let alone physically ripped from their body like this.
‘Dear God Charlie!’ Liz said, covering her mouth. ‘Why Charlie? Why would anyone do that?’
‘God knows?’ Charlie replied, scratching his beard. ‘And how the fuck did she get all the way here?’
In a flash Liz, remembered a Dead thing, backlit by a lightning strike, struggling to get up from the road. She had assumed the Reverend’s cart had ran into the body but what if in fact the body had been pushed from the cart. They had a Dead woman minus one baby and an unknown couple with a baby. It sort of made sense, but why? After she had explained what she had seen to Charlie, a look of horrified realisation took over his face.
‘Fuck!’ Charlie shouted, making the dog at his feet jump slightly. ‘Finish her Liz and hurry. I’ve been a fucking idiot, I just hope we’re not too late!’
Confused, but sensing Charlie’s urgency, Liz leapt forward with her blade high. In seconds Emma’s body crumpled back to the floor still and lifeless. Charlie jumped back into the cart, holding the hatch open briefly for the dog.
‘In!’ he shouted and the dog did as she was told, landing beside Charlie on the front seat.
Liz had barely managed to close her own hatch, before Charlie flicked Samson’s reigns forcing the horse into a canter.
‘What? what is it, Charlie?’ Liz asked. ‘Surely the Reverend and Ruth will be gone by now? We’ll never find them.’
‘That’s not what I’m worried about,’ Charlie said, swerving Samson round a pothole. ‘I asked Justin what the Reverend had said to him last night, because whatever Justin had said back surely pissed off the good Reverend, big time.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Liz said, ‘what does Justin have to do with it? And what did he say?’
‘Ten,’ Charlie replied, ‘he said he was ten. The Reverend had asked him how old he was.’
‘Erm.. I still don’t get it’ Liz said, wishing he would get to the point
‘Well, think about it. Over the last few days we’ve had attacks where a pregnant woman and children have gone missing. All of the children missing, Williams nephew, the Penhaligan boy but not his eight year old sister and now Emma’s baby, they all have one thing in common.’
‘They’re all under seven aren’t they?’ Liz said, a sickening feeling coming over her.‘Justin and Naomi Penhaligan were too old to be useful to them… and everyone not useful, they slaughtered. God Charlie! Do you think they’ve hurt anyone at Lanherrne?’
‘Let’s pray they’ve just taken her without killing everyone else,’ Charlie said, a grim look in his eyes.
‘Taken who? What are you talking about?’ Liz asked and then it hit her. ‘Oh my god! Anne!…. They think Anne is under seven don’t they.’
‘Yep, probably. I asked her this morning if the Reverend or Ruth had asked how old she was. She said no. They probably took one look at her tiny frame and didn’t think there was a chance in hell she was born even a few months too early for them,’ he replied.
‘And just what do they want the children for?’ Liz asked, dreading what Charlie was going to say.
‘Who knows, but from the way they talk I think they consider anyone born before the Dead came is somehow tainted by sin. So in their eyes, these children are pure, unspoilt, I suppose,’ he replied, flicking the reins again, forcing Samson to travel dangerously fast along the cracked road surface.
‘Right. So they want her for something, so they won’t kill her, that’s what we’ve got to hold onto until we get her back. They want her but we’re going to get her back,’ Liz said, over and over again, trying to convince herself it was going to be alright.
Though, even if she searched the rest of her life she may never see her sister again and deep down she knew it.
‘Let’s see what we have to deal with at the Convent first, then we’ll get her back I promise, Liz. I promise...’ Charlie said, turning her face towards him and repeating it as he looked into her tear filled eyes, ‘I promise.’
And she knew he meant it, they would get Anne back.
****
>
When he had first heard the screams, Lars had pulled an unhelpful Penny into a small cupboard on the ground floor. Thankfully this cupboard, like many in Lanherne had a bolt on the inside, thanks to Charlie who had thought it a good idea. At this precise moment, Lars certainly agreed with him. At the sound of the first gun shot, Penny had started to hyperventilate, her shaking body giving over to the panic she was feeling. When the second shot echoed through the hallway, Penny went into overdrive. Even with Lars holding her tightly, and trying to calm her, her terrified whimpers soon developed into an uncontrollable wailing sound. In his desperation Lars contemplated somehow knocking the girl out but with his mangled arthritic hands he doubted he would have the necessary power. Deciding instead to hold a balled up rag over her mouth to muffle her crying, he prayed the sound wouldn’t attract the Dead. But his prayers had clearly gone unanswered, when the tragic corpse of Adrian came running down the corridor drawn to the sound of the living.
Skidding to a halt outside the cupboard door, Adrian’s corpse knew that what he so desperately needed was just the other side of the thin wood. Smashing his fists over and over against the panelled door, it was a close thing which would fall to pieces first, the door or his hands. Already, the flesh on many of his now broken fingers had split, exposing more ragged flesh and bone with each pounding. As the skin over his knuckles tore, revealing the bone and cartilage beneath, a panel of the door finally cracked. Seeing this, added even more urgency to his frenzied attack, and he began to tear at the sides of thin split in the wood, losing what few finger nails he had left. The shards of wood piercing his bloodied palms and fingers went unnoticed, getting to the live flesh was the only thing his Dead mind was concerned with. With a cracking noise, the rest of the panel suddenly gave way, allowing his shredded and mangled hands to reach through to the terrified occupants. Penny’s uncontrollable screaming was constant now and somewhere in the back of Lars mind, he wondered if she was doing permanent damage to her vocal chords. Battering away the bloody Dead hands with little more than an old metal dustpan, Lars knew sooner or later the rest of the door would give way and that would be the end of it. He knew it was time to do something drastic. So as Adrian tried frantically to get a handhold on the living just out of his reach, Lars decided it was time to go on the offensive and grabbed one of the bloody hands as it came towards him. With all his strength he pulled the arm further into the cupboard and then with a fast motion he yanked the limb downwards, wedging the flesh onto the wooden shards. Knowing this would only hold the Dead thing for a few seconds, Lars quickly slid the bolt across before he grabbed Adrian’s other hand. With Adrian now temporarily held in place, Lars pushed against the door with a strength born purely of fear and adrenalin.
Six Days With the Dead Page 27