Six Days With the Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  ‘Try not to use the guns unless we’ve no options left,’ Charlie said, flicking open the barrel of his handgun to check it was loaded for the third time. ‘They’ll only alert everyone there that we’ve arrived, not to mention any of the Dead that happen to be within earshot.’

  Stepping out onto the gravel lane, Liz took a breath to steady her nerves. She was certain that Anne was but a few hundred metres down this lane and it took all her control not to break into a run to get to her. But she knew they would have to play a very careful game, who knew what setup the Reverend and his wife had here, and with Anne’s life in their hands, they couldn’t afford to make any rash decisions.

  The gravel lane sloped downwards with the side of a hill rising on its right hand side. The other side of the lane was covered with a light woodland of young ash and birch trees and it would be through here that the group would follow the path to the cavern. From here on in, there would be no talking, communication between them would be strictly limited to hand signals. Crouching low, the four made their way just inside the tree line along the lane. When the next pole with its cadaver came up, Charlie gave Imran the signal. Standing to his full height, Imran took aim and fired. His arrow flying from his bow before the Dead had a chance to register the living flesh that had appeared before it. The lane began to slowly curve around the growing hill and after dealing with another four of the Dead, they could finally see the chain link fence of the Reverend’s compound coming up.

  ‘We follow the tree line round, till we’re in front of the compound,’ Charlie whispered to the others, as his eyes scanned back and forth along the lane. ‘We can’t see what’s what from here and I don’t want us going in blind.’

  Liz and Imran immediately began slowly stalking through the thin woodland with Alice and Charlie taking up the rear.

  ‘Can you hear them?’ Alice said in barely a whisper, her tight grip on her bat making her knuckles turn white ‘there’s more of the Dead and they sound excited’

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ Charlie said taking her chin in his hand, ‘you can keep an eye on Delilah if you like.’

  ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily,’ she whispered back, her tone slightly angry as she began to move off after Liz and Imran.

  Charlie was proud of Alice, of all of them, she was the only one who didn’t have to be here. Liz and himself were here for Anne, while Imran had come to avenge his brother’s death, so Alice coming here was purely because she loved him too much to let him go alone. He didn’t know if it was the most beautiful or the most stupid thing anyone had ever done for him, but he was sure glad she was with him. Shaking his head at the stubbornness of the beautiful woman in front of him, Charlie followed after her through the tree line. They soon came to a stop and crouched down among the ferns looking out over the compound before them.

  The wire fence encircled a compound mainly given over to vegetables, which at the moment were being tended to by a middle aged man. Luckily the man was engrossed in his weeding and had his back to them. The high chain-link fence surrounding the compound wouldn’t be a problem, thanks to the wire cutters they brought with them, but the seven Dead figures writhing and moaning on the poles might prove to be a bit tricky. If they stepped out from the cover of the tree line, the Dead would go frantic and surely alert the man gardening of their presence. Charlie signalled for Imran to take out the Dead one by one. Hopefully they could then get through the fence before the man noticed them and raised the alarm. With the writhing Dead desperate to get to the living man behind them, Imran had to time it just right otherwise he could very easily miss his target. Using a birch tree as cover, Imran stood up and took aim at the first of the Dead. It had been a young woman, her once curvaceous and admired body, now ravaged and torn. Imran watched the way she moved her head back and forth, trying to discern a pattern to her movements. After a time the Dead woman would realise she would not be able to reach the living man behind her from one side, so her head would swing wildly to the other side to start the fruitless exercise again. Once Imran had noticed this, it was simply a matter of timing. So with a dull thud, the woman was finally put to rest, as Imran’s arrow plunged deep into her skull. The next in line was another woman, this one was emaciated to the point where it looked as if her grey mouldy skin was the only thing keeping her bones together. She had obviously been hanging there for some time, as her movements were slow, even for the Dead. With pathetically strained movements, she craned her head sideways, always trying to catch a glimpse of the living man she knew was behind her. When her position was just right, Imran let fly another silent arrow. This time it sunk deep into her temple just at the side of her eye. Her desperately hungry moan instantly died on her lips, as her last unnatural breath escaped her body.

  Imran repeated this for the next two hanging Dead, each time getting the killing shot removing two more abominations from the world.

  ‘Shit.’ Charlie whispered under his breath.

  The man who had been gardening had turned and was now working his way up another row of vegetables, which unfortunately meant he was now facing in their direction. Then suddenly the man paused and began scanning the tree line with a confused look on his face. It was only when he walked up to the poles to look up at the Dead, did Charlie realise the man had noticed the drop in volume from his hanging Dead sentries. The man looked up at one of the now quiet Dead women, Imran’s arrow firmly embedded in her skull and faster than Charlie thought possible, he turned and began to sprint away from the fence towards the cave entrance.

  ‘Take him out Imran,’ Charlie said, his voice harsh and commanding.

  He knew what he was asking of Imran. To take the unnatural life of the Dead was one thing, but to shoot a fleeing living man in the back was quite another matter altogether, but it had to be done. For the briefest moments, Imran caught Charlie’s gaze and knew he needed to do this if they wanted to get Anne back alive. With a nod, Imran broke cover from the tree line and darted to the fence, a new arrow already in place. Placing the tip of the arrow between the wire holes so it would fly true, he sighted the back of the escaping man’s head, took a deep breath and released his hold on the string. With a sickening crunch the metal tipped arrow shattered the back of the man’s skull and continued on its journey through his brain and out through the area just above his cheek bone. The man’s body seemed to carry on running unguided by a brain for another two steps, before collapsing to floor, forever still.

  Liz, Alice and Charlie had already joined Imran at the fence and even before the man had fallen to the floor, Liz was snipping away at the wire with the cutters. They had to get in there as soon as possible, they really didn’t want any of the other members of this twisted community to come out and find one of their number lying face down among the runner beans with an arrow in the back of his head.

  ‘Almost there,’ Liz said, a few minutes later, her breathing heavy.

  The wire had been tougher to cut than she thought but determination had given strength to her arms and even though her hands now ached, she pulled aside the hole in the fence so the others could pass through. She had barely begun wriggling through herself, before Charlie and Imran darted off to drag the man’s corpse out of sight. Pulling the body by its legs, they stashed it behind the Reverend’s cart before anyone had the chance to see it. Alice scanned the compound nervously, as she waited for Liz to pull herself fully through the fence. As soon as she was free, the two of them silently ran in a low crouch to join Charlie and Imran hiding by the cart.

  ‘So what now?’ Alice asked, her heart pounding loudly in her ears as they crouched hidden from sight. ‘Do we just charge in or what?’

  ‘No, we can’t risk them killing Anne, just because they’re cornered and anyway we don’t know how many we’re up against. So…’ Charlie’s words where cut short by the sight of a startled man stepping into view from around the cart.

  ‘What the?’ the short Italian looking man said.

  From the lo
ok on his face, he clearly wasn’t expecting to see them there. Anything else he wanted to say went unsaid, as Charlie’s large form barrelled into him, knocking him to the floor. As the air was knocked out of the foreign man’s lungs, Charlie swung his large clenched fist at his chin, knocking him out cold with the first strike.

  ‘Take his feet and put him with the other one,’ Charlie said to Imran, as he pushed himself upright.

  Imran grabbed hold of the unconscious man’s feet and pulled him behind the cart, leaving him motionless alongside his dead companion. Of course what the group could not know was that the man Charlie had just knocked out, who had proved himself worthy before God by hanging for a day and a night to a pole, this man was actually slowly dying in front of them, completely un-noticed. When Charlie’s fist had connected with Marcello’s jaw, the forces that had jolted through his skull had ruptured a tiny blood vessel in his brain and even now as Charlie went over their plan, Marcello’s brain was slowly shutting down piece by piece.

  Liz withdrew her sword from its sheath, ready for the battle she knew would commence as soon as they entered the cave. They had decided as a group, that they would have to kill any adults they came across. Even though they may not have had a direct hand in the atrocities the Reverend and his wife had caused across the Cornish countryside, their very acceptance made them guilty. Put simply, they were too dangerous a group to allow them to scatter, un-punished.

  ‘Right, I want it to be clean kill shots in there, we don’t want the Dead to have to deal with too,’ Charlie said, as Liz began to edge forward away from the cart.

  Behind them, something within Marcello’s brain was taking control of his oxygen starved body and had already begun to pull him back from the black oblivion into an unnatural existence. First with a fist clenched, then milky eyes began to move back and forth rapidly behind eyelids that should never open again, until finally a new Marcello was brought forth, a Marcello whose sole purpose was to quench the burning need that raged at his very core. Sitting up, the Dead thing that had once been Marcello turned his head, drawn to the sound of the living near to him.

  ‘Look out!’ ‘Charlie!’ Liz and Alice screamed in unison at the Dead figure rose behind him.

  ‘Jesus!’ Charlie said, as the Dead Marcello pounced onto his back, his mouth wide, intent on tearing into the flesh presented to him.

  Grappling with the man on his back, Charlie threw himself backwards to the floor and rolled. Wild Dead hands clawed at his skin as Charlie managed to finally get on top of the struggling Dead man. With his hand under the snapping jaw, Charlie drew back his knife wrist, preparing to ram the blade into the side of twisting and moaning Dead man’s head. Out of the blue a metal bat swung just in front of Charlie’s eyes and collided with the Dead man’s temple. With a sickening crunch, the front of the animated cadaver’s temple collapsed, as skin tore and bone shattered. Not intent with one hit, Alice pulled her bat back swiftly and swung again with all the force she had in her. When the bat hit the Dead Marcello’s head this time, there was no question that he had finally been put to rest. With his head little more than a broken and bloody mess, Marcello’s brief unnatural after-life had come to an end.

  ‘Fuck!’ Charlie said, his hand going up to his neck to rub the muscles that had been pulled when the Dead man leapt on him, ‘I’m ok, I’m ok.’

  ‘You sure?’ Liz said, concern and fear in her eyes.

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied a soft smile on his lips, ‘and thanks Alice, I owe you.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said, giving him a quick wink. ‘Well, with all this noise we’d better get on with it before we alert the whole lot of them we’re here.’

  ‘Yep, let’s get going,’ Charlie said, urging them onward.

  Pulling his hand discreetly away from his neck, Charlie looked down at the blood on his fingers, his blood. It may have only been the smallest of nips from the Dead man but already he could feel the burning pain blooming across his shoulders. Cursing his own body for accepting the change so quickly, Charlie knew he wouldn’t be given the luxury of three hours before he died and came back. Knowing his time left with those he loved was going to be so cruelly snatched from him, he was determined to make what he had left count. Wiping his hand on his trouser leg, he looked up into the eyes of Imran. From his horrified look, it was clear to Charlie that Imran knew. Charlie gave him the smallest shakes of his head.

  ‘Not now, son,’ Charlie whispered, as he moved past the stunned Imran. ‘We get Anne back first, then I’ll deal with this. Ok? Please not a word, I’ve got to do this.’

  For the briefest of moments Imran looked into Charlie’s eyes and saw his resolve to see this through. Although Imran’s own heart felt like a fist was tightening about it, as he realised the man who had become a father to him was shortly to die, he knew Charlie needed to make things right and who was he to deny him. Giving the slightest of nods back, Imran decided to put his trust in Charlie. The man had never let him down before and knew he wouldn’t now.

  Jogging to the mouth of the cave the four of them paused by the iron gates that been cemented into the opening. Holding a finger to his lips for quiet, they listened for any sound coming from those inside. They could hear soft rhythmic chanting coming from somewhere deep inside and taking the lead, Charlie pushed open the iron gates as quietly as he could. Despite the gate creaking loudly on its rusting hinges, the chanting continued without missing a beat and the four of them crept inside, one by one. Using practiced hand signals, Charlie told them to make a low dash for the horses stall on the right of the cave. The dilapidated horse gave them the briefest of snorts when the four intruders knelt alongside it, but then went back to eating its desperately needed meal.

  Looking out past the horse and into the smoky gloom of the cave, Liz could see a clear lake ahead of them, greasy looking torches burning along its shore. There, kneeling down with their backs to them, were six small children and three adults, one man and two women. The chanting they could hear was clearly coming from the adults, who seemed to Liz to be lost in some sort of prayer induced trance. Liz’s eyes flicked from one child’s head to another, looking for the familiar blond curls of Anne.

  ‘She’s not there,’ she whispered to Imran, her heart twisting with fear and worry that they had come too late.

  Squeezing her shoulder, Imran knew Liz’s world was to be torn apart soon enough and it broke his heart to know what she would be going through. He knew dealing with Charlie would be devastating for Liz. But as Charlie had said, they just had to find Anne first and then perhaps together, as a family they could get through the loss of this man who had selflessly taken them all under his care. Charlie took a sharp intake of breath as a spasm of pain shot down his arm to sit burning at his fingertips. Imran looked at him, realising Charlie was one of the unfortunate ones, his time left would be measured in minutes rather than hours. Catching Imran’s concerned look, Charlie brushed it off, he didn’t have time for pain or fear, he had a job to do.

  With a wave of his hand and stiffening fingers, Charlie silently told Imran they should creep as close as they could and then he was to take out the tall man kneeling by the lake. With the man taken out of action the two remaining women should be easy to deal with. Crouching, they slowly moved forward, until they got within ten metres. Charlie then gave Imran the signal. Standing upright, Imran took aim and with a silent prayer to Allah for forgiveness, he released the arrow. One voice instantly died from the chorus of chanting never to be heard again, as the arrow plunged deep into the back of the man’s skull, killing him permanently. It wasn’t until he fell face first into the lake with a loud splash, that the two women either side of him realised something was wrong. Both of them stared in disbelief at the corpse now floating in the lake, a pool of deep red blooming from its head. As one, they both snapped their heads round to see who dared intrude upon their holy work. It was not so much that one of their fellow acolytes was dead, rather that someone had dared to challenge their holy missi
on, that outraged them so.

  ‘Sergeant Charlie!’ one of the little children cried, as he quickly darted forward beyond the reach of the short woman next to him.

  Little Alex Penhaligan clung tightly to Charlie’s leg, with a grip born of desperate relief.

  ‘They killed my mum and dad Sergeant Charlie!’ Alex managed to say before heavy tears spilled from his large, weary eyes. ‘and Naomi too. They killed them for no reason.’

  With an animal like scream and her fingers hooked like claws, the short woman ran at Charlie at full speed. The black woman next to her, in her panic, grabbed the arm of a small terrified girl and began wading out into the lake as fast as she could towards a small row boat. Her long skirt, now heavy with cold water, slowed her escape, weighing her down and wrapping round her legs as she splashed through the water. What she had hoped to achieve, they would never know because at that moment Imran let fly another arrow, hitting her squarely in the side of the head. Immediately she too collapsed into the water, her blood mixing with that of the male acolyte already staining the clear water a shade of pink. In those few seconds, the banshee like woman had almost reached Charlie and Alex, but as Charlie turned his body to shield the small boy clinging to his leg, he lifted his amputated wrist to greet her. With a strangled cry of shock, the large knife on his wrist skidded across her ribs, tearing skin and muscle as it went. Falling to the floor, the woman looked up, hate burning in her eyes.

  ‘You’re all damned!’ she spat angrily, blood flecking her lips, as a painful cough racked through her body. ‘I put my soul in the Lords hands and He found me worthy. Me!’

  Ignoring the rant of the insane woman at Charlie’s feet, Alice rushed forward to help the wet little girl trying to climb out of the lake.

  ‘It’s alright, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,’ Alice repeated in a soothing tone, as she gathered up the sobbing girl out of the cold water and into her arms.