Six Days With the Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  Imran rose slowly to his feet and followed Alice from the room. Outside Phil stood solemnly with Cam, the old sheets Sister Rebecca had given them to use for shrouds, folded in their arms. It had been decided that they would not just dump the bodies of those they loved in the pit with the other Dead but bury them instead. So, as Phil and Cam opened a sheet on the blood covered floor, Imran said one last goodbye to his brother and left them to their task.

  ****

  ‘Come on, come on, come on,’ Liz said, impatiently as Damien worked the winch to open Lanherne’s internal gate to let them in. Not waiting for it to open fully, Liz jumped from the cart and ran through into the courtyard as soon as it was open wide enough for her to squeeze through. The sight that greeted her, stopped her in her tracks. There, wrapped in blood covered sheets were five bodies of various sizes laying in a row.

  ‘No…’ she whispered, shocked they had lost so many of their number.

  As she stood there, trying to think what horrors must have occurred here while they were away, Alice came running up to her, almost on the point of crying.

  ‘Oh Liz, we can’t find her, we can’t find her,’ Alice said, her misplaced guilt tipping her towards hysteria. ‘It’s Anne, we’ve looked everywhere and we can’t find her.’

  ‘The Reverend and his wife took her,’ Liz said blankly, forcing herself to pull her eyes away from the shroud wrapped bodies, ‘Who did we lose?’

  ‘What? What do you mean the Reverend took her?’ Alice said, not understanding what Liz was talking about, ‘Why would on earth would they take Anne?’

  ‘Look, we’ll explain it all later. Who did we lose?’ Liz asked, as Samson pulled Charlie and the cart through the gate.

  ‘Barry, Michael, Adrian, Sister Catherine, Sister Margaret and…’ Alice paused, knowing Liz thought of Mohammed as a brother ‘... I’m sorry Liz, we lost Mohammed too’

  ‘Where’s Imran?’ Liz said, pushing aside the grief that threatened to overwhelm her. Imran needed her now, she had to be strong for him. ‘I must go to Imran.’

  ‘He’s in the kitchen with Sister Rebecca,’ Alice replied, and instantly Liz ran into the convent, desperate to be with Imran.

  As she ran through the dim corridors, she passed various people with mops and buckets of hot water, silently washing away the evidence of the carnage that had occurred. Reaching the kitchen door, she saw Sister Rebecca on her hands and knees weeping as she scrubbed at the stone floor. Someone had died here, someone they cared about but Liz could not think about that. There, standing by the kitchen window was Imran. Turning his tear streaked face towards her as she entered, her heart almost broke to see him in so much pain. Throwing herself into his open arms, Liz could hold back her tears no longer.

  ‘Oh, Imran. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ she said, as she wept into his chest.

  ‘I’m going to kill them, Lizzy,’ Imran replied, an alien harshness hardening his voice, ‘I’m going to find the bastards that did this and kill them so slowly, they’ll beg for death.’

  Liz knew it was the anger and the grief talking but even so, she could see in his eyes that at that moment he meant it and it scared her a little. She wondered if she would feel the same if the Reverend had killed Anne instead of just kidnapping her, and realised she probably would. She too would hunt down the man who had done this terrible thing and make him pay.

  ‘You may get your chance,’ Liz said, looking up into his sad, angry eyes. ‘Nathan and Ruth, they did this as a cover so they could take Anne.’

  ‘If we have to search our whole lives, we’ll get her back Liz… and then those fuckers will pay,’ Imran replied.

  Sister Rebecca had removed as much of Sister Catherine’s blood from the stone floor as she could. Standing up she looked down at the stains that had worked their way into the stone slabs, a permanent reminder of Sister Catherine’s last bloody moments. Slowly she lifted the bucket and poured the red tinged water down the sink. Tearfully, Sister Rebecca watched the water spin down the plug hole and as the last of it disappeared with a low gurgle, she covered her face with her hands and wept some more. Imran silently pulled the Sister into the embrace he and Liz were sharing and together the three of them stood holding each other as they mourned for those they had lost.

  ***

  ‘So the Reverend and his wife did all this so they could kidnap Anne?’ Nadine asked, astounded that the supposedly religious couple treated life with such little regard.

  Charlie had gathered everyone in the Refectory later that afternoon to tell them why their friends had died. All signs of Mohammed’s murder had been carefully washed away but Imran could still see the pool of his brother blood seeping across the floor each time he closed his eyes. Sister Rebecca and Sister Claire had made everyone something to eat but no one apart from the newly acquired golden retriever seemed to be hungry. Charlie had given the dog to Justin to look after for the moment and it had proved a good idea. While Justin was washing and cutting out the many matted sections of the poor beast’s fur that refused to comb through, his mind was taken off the loss of his uncle and the horrors that they had all endured at Lanherne that day. Justin had wanted to call the dog Barry, despite Nicky pointing out that the dog was in fact a girl. Justin didn’t care, as far as he was concerned she would always be called Barry, even if everyone else called her something else.

  ‘Yes,’ Charlie replied, ‘and it’s my guess they were the ones who killed William’s brother to get to his nephew, the Penhaligan family for little Alex and then James O’Brien for Emma, or rather her baby. They obviously kept Emma alive hoping she would give birth naturally but we came upon them on the road, they had to cut the baby out of her before they arrived at Lanherne, so their story would add up.’

  ‘Dear God!’ Sister Josephine said, crossing herself, ‘That poor woman.’

  ‘So how do we get Anne back?’ Phil asked. ‘Where on earth do we start looking for her?’

  ‘That’s the problem, they could’ve gone anywhere,’ Liz said passing back and forth ‘we’ve no idea where to start looking. But Charlie, Imran and myself are going to find her. We’ll be leaving at first light.’

  Liz didn’t have to say the words, everyone already knew the three of them would either return with Anne or they would not return at all. Charlie knew Alice would argue that she should come with him, but he was determined she should stay here, safe behind the high walls. Liz knew there would be raised voices tonight coming from Charlie’s room. Alice would not give up on her man without a fight.

  ‘God! It makes me so fucking angry. We opened the doors to those bastards and they do this shit!’ Liz said feeling the frustration and despair of the whole situation turning to anger in her. ‘And that bitch had the nerve to give Anne that fucking Carnglaze bracelet to butter her up, pretending to be nice. Fuck!’

  ‘Caverns…’ came a small voice across the room.

  A few people turned in Penny’s direction, still unaccustomed to the young woman’s mind being present. Since she had woken from the self imposed imprisonment of her mind, Penny had gone through the collection of clothes they kept in the store room and was now dressed quite differently to her usual attire. Gone was the faded print floral dress that even the dowdiest of women would have turned their nose up at, to be replaced by black jeans, work boots and a T-shirt printed with the name of a band no one would ever remember.

  ‘What did you say Penny?’ asked Lars, sitting protectively next to her. It would take some getting used to, this more aware version of the girl he has looked after for the last seven years.

  ‘Carnglaze Caverns,’ she repeated, looking at Lars. ‘Don’t you remember Sir, sorry, I mean Lars. Don’t you remember, we went to the caverns on the second day of the field trip. You took us to see the rock formations.’

  For some reason, the last seven years had barely registered in Penny’s mind but her memories of everything else before the Dead came, were as clear as if they only happened last week.

  ‘Car
nglaze Caverns? wait, yes I remember…’ he said, looking towards Charlie and Liz. ‘It’s a large limestone cavern with an underground lake. The council turned it into a sort of tourist attraction, you know, built a café among the stalagmites… had a gift shop, that sort of place.’

  ‘The sort of gift shop that sold bracelets with crystal pendants?’ Liz said, her hope rising, perhaps they had a starting point after all. ‘It looked brand new, perhaps that’s where the Reverend and Ruth are really from and it was something she took from there?’

  ‘Now don’t jump to conclusions Liz,’ Charlie butted in before she convinced herself and the rest of the group that’s where the couple had taken Anne. It couldn’t be that simple. ‘You’re just clutching at straws, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, I know I’m clutching at straws, but that’s all we got’ she snapped at him, instantly regretting her tone.

  ‘If I remember correctly, the cavern only has one entrance and that had thick metal railings cemented into the rock with a gate in it,’ Lars said, looking to Penny for confirmation. ‘Would make a pretty good place to set up home and with the underground lake being fresh water too, that’s another thing in its favour.’

  After much debating among the group, Charlie finally relented and it was decided that rather than just wander the countryside hoping they would come across the Reverend and his wife, they would go to the Carnglaze Caverns first and work from there. Lars showed them on the map where the caverns were and Charlie estimated it would take most of the following day to get there, as long as they didn’t run into any other trouble on the way.

  ****

  Anne, exhausted and tired, had cried herself to sleep only to dream of her friends reaching for her with Dead hands and hungry mouths. As the cart bumped over a particularly large pot-hole she was jolted awake. Momentarily forgetting where she was, it wasn’t until the Reverend thrust a small bottle of water at her, that she remembered what had happened.

  ‘We’re not monsters…’ the Reverend had told her when he finally removed her gag, hours after they had left the convent that morning, ‘but you had to be saved from them. With the others you will be part of a new Eden. By being born with no stain upon your soul, the Lord has blessed you.’

  Anne wasn’t sure what he was talking about and didn’t care, she just wanted to go home.

  ‘My sister’s going to kill you,’ she said, coldly.

  She knew it was not just the empty threat of a scared little girl. She knew it as a simple fact, Liz would find her, and these people would pay for what they had done. With a crack, the Reverend’s hand sprung out and slapped her hard across the face.

  ‘I think this one has been with them too long, Ruth. She spits in the face of God,’ the Reverend said, the hate coming off him in waves.

  Ruth, pulling on the reins, stopped the cart and turned to her husband, her blue eyes as harsh as ice.

  ‘You will not strike the child, Nathan,’ she said, her calm tone full of command. ‘She, together with the infant will be tested like the others. Only the Lord can truly look upon her soul and judge her worthy. If she is found wanting, the Lord will know it and cast her down into the pit to writhe for eternity with the others who dared to hide their putrid sin behind the mask of an innocent.’

  ‘Yes Ruth,’ he replied, looking a little ashamed of his action.

  With a small nod, Ruth turned back to the road and resumed their journey. Anne didn’t like the sound of being tested and wondered how they could possible test a baby, barely a few days old.

  Taking the bottle from the Reverend, she tried to see if she could get any clues as to where they were headed. From the colour of the light coming through the front view slit, Anne realised she must have slept the afternoon away. The strange murky light of dusk had descended upon the countryside and, as the sun finally dipped out of sight over the horizon, Ruth pulled the cart to a stop for the night. They would be many miles away from the Convent by now and with no idea how to get home and completely weaponless, she knew she would just have to accept her situation and wait for Liz to come for her.

  ‘Eat,’ the Reverend said, passing her a piece of dried meat.

  The meat tasted dry and had a smoky almost dirt like aftertaste, but as she hadn’t eaten all day she forced herself to eat it.

  ‘What about the baby?’ Anne said, looking over at the unusually quiet infant, wrapped tightly in a cloth.

  As Ruth was obviously not the baby’s real mother, Anne wondered what they were feeding it. Whatever it was, Anne thought it plainly wasn’t agreeing with the child. It lay motionless with flushed cheeks.

  ‘Never you mind about the baby,’ Ruth said, climbing into the back of the cart with them. Reaching up to remove a bottle from a box, Ruth began to drip a watery white liquid over the infant’s lips. Anne could tell from the odd earthy smell the liquid gave off, that it was not milk.

  ‘She must be drugging the poor baby to keep it quiet,’ Anne thought to herself, as Ruth replaced the bottle once the baby had swallowed a few drops. She then took some water and forced the baby to swallow some, keeping it hydrated, if not fed. Ruth and Nathan then began to pray. Anne didn’t know if it was the low monotonous repetition of their prayers making her drowsy but despite being asleep for most of the afternoon, she could feel her eyes drooping heavily. As the last piece of meat fell from her limp hand, she could feel herself drifting into an unnatural sleep. Anne realised through her stupor that whatever drug they had used on the baby must have been put on the meat too.

  ‘She would have to be careful in the future, these two were tricky,’ she managed to think to herself before her mind became jumbled and fuzzy. She tried in vain to fight against the drug coursing through her small body but before she knew it, she was back in her dreams and so were the Dead.

  ***

  Back at the convent, Liz lay gently in Imran’s arms as they both tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Even now she could feel him crying silently next to her. His pain mirrored in her, was made even more unbearable because there was nothing she could do to ease his loss. Liz looked over at the small empty bed next to the one she currently shared with Imran, the blankets still unmade and rumpled from Anne’s previous night’s sleep. Slowly she reached across to touch the pillow laying askew on the bed. Desperate to feel some mystical connection to her stolen sister but feeling only the physical pillow instead, she vowed to herself and to a God she sometimes doubted was even there, that this bed would not remain empty for long.

  ‘I’m coming, Anne,’ she thought to herself, ‘I’m coming.’

  DAY 6

  Liz’s dreams that night were haunted with searching and a sense of painful loss. She would see herself running through endless dark corridors, frantically searching for her sister, who’s cries echoed distantly amongst the shadows. When her eyes finally opened, the pain followed her from her dreams to sit in her chest, like a weight threatening to pull her down into despair. She could feel Imran breathing next to her, his very presence giving her the strength she knew she would need if she was to get her sister back. With Imran and Charlie at her side, they could do the near impossible, and not only find Anne in a landscape of the Dead, but also make the Reverend and his wife pay for what they had done. Imran had cried and mourned the loss of his brother long into the night, finally falling asleep in her arms in the early hours. Gently swinging her legs over the side of the cot, trying her best not to wake Imran, she looked back at the man she loved, surprised to see him looking up at her.

  ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ she asked, stroking his face softly with her fingertips.

  ‘No, I was only dozing really. Anyway, the sooner we’re up, the sooner we can get Anne back from those bastards,’ he replied, kissing her hand.

  The sad smile on his face doing little to hide the obvious pain lurking behind his eyes still red from crying.

  Once they had both washed and dressed, Imran and Liz made their way down to the kitchen. It seemed to Liz, despite everyone’s attempt to
wash away the carnage that had occurred the previous day, she could still smell the coppery tang of spilt blood in the air. When they entered the kitchen, Sister Rebecca was standing by the range cooking porridge as usual, but Liz could tell something had changed within her. Looking up at them with red puffy eyes, Sister Rebecca could barely manage to keep the brittle smile on her lips. Watching her, Liz noticed the Nun’s eyes being drawn to the large dark stain on the stone floor, a permanent reminder of Sister Catherine’s pointless death. Liz decided she was going to suggest that perhaps they should use the bottle of bleach they had found in the supermarket van, to remove the stain from view. They were all too aware of the loss they had suffered yesterday, they didn’t need another reminder staring them in the face every time they came into the kitchen.

  ‘Phil and Richard are digging the graves, just outside the wall, over by the tree line,’ Sister Rebecca said sadly, as she placed the bowls in front of Liz and Imran. ‘I don’t know if they’ll be ready before you go this morning.’

  ‘That’s alright,’ Imran said, meeting her gaze. ‘I’ve already said my goodbyes to Mohammed. We can pay our respects to those we’ve lost when we return. Getting Anne back is the top priority now.’

  With an understanding nod, Sister Rebecca turned to fill two more bowls with the warm porridge for Alice and Charlie, who she could hear coming down the corridor.

  As they entered, Liz knew she had been right about Alice arguing her point to come with them, what she hadn’t foreseen was that Charlie would relent and let her. Even now Charlie’s anger and annoyance at the stubborn woman by his side, was written all over his face. Alice must really have worked a number on him to get him to change his mind, and deep down, although she wanted Alice to be safe, she couldn’t hold it against her. If the tables were turned, she certainly wouldn’t accept being left behind either. After all, this may be a one way trip. If Anne wasn’t at Carnglaze Caverns, who knew when they would be able to return to Lanherne.