Lanherne Chronicles (Prequel): To Escape the Dead

by Charlick, Stephen

  ‘Phil,’ she said softly, coming to a stop just behind him.

  ‘Go away, Liz,’ he replied, his words heavy with sadness and exhaustion, unable to look away from the shape of David’s body lying in the grave in front of him. ‘Please, just go away…’

  ‘Don’t shut us out, Phil… Not now,’ she said, desperate to reach through his grief to ease his pain.

  But Phil sat mute, ignoring her pleas as if she hadn’t spoken.

  ‘Well at least put some clothes on,’ she eventually said, unfolding the jacket for him to take. ‘You’ll get sick…’

  ‘So?’ he said softly, finally turning to look at her.

  The face that looked back at her made her breath catch in her throat and something in her chest twist in sorrow. So evident was the grief etched upon his face that his eyes reached out to her, pleading for release from the pain that consumed him.

  ‘So… So you made a promise,’ she whispered, heavy tears of empathy already blurring her vision.

  ‘Cheap shot, Liz,’ he replied, slowly shaking his head. ‘Fucking cheap shot.’

  ‘You promised,’ she repeated, her tears falling freely.

  Phil silently turned away from her to look back at David’s wrapped body.

  ‘You promised him…’ said Liz, her words almost snatched away by the howling wind as she choked back another sob. ‘You promised David.’

  But if Phil had managed to hear her words amid the raging gale, he made no indication.

  ‘I want… I need him back, Liz…’ he finally said, turning tear filled eyes to look up at Liz. ‘What… what am I going to do?’

  ‘Oh, Phil,’ cried Liz, falling to her knees in the mud by his side, ‘you just have to go on… that’s all any of us can do…’

  ‘Is that enough?’ he said, his tearful eyes searching the face of the teenage girl for an impossible answer.

  ‘It’s all we’ve got,’ she whispered, taking his hand in hers. ‘That and the love of the people around you…’

  Sitting there in the mud as the rain fell and the wind howled, Phil slowly took in her words. Liz had been right, it was clear to him now, all any of them had in this world of the Dead was each other and without each other they were no better off than the Dead. With a heart-breaking realisation, Phil could see that David must have known this too. The promise had been his parting gift to Phil, for he had known that Phil would truly need the group just as much as they would need him.

  ‘Help me…’ Phil finally said, with a heavy sigh.

  With a sad nod, Liz draped Phil’s jacket over his wide shoulders and rose from her knees to reach for the shovel. She was about to force the shovel into the loose earth when Phil stood and stopped her.

  ‘No, wait, I want to do this,’ he said, gently taking the garden tool from her hand.

  Pushing down with his foot, he lifted a large clod of dripping wet earth up on the blade of the shovel. With the earth poised to fall onto David’s wrapped body, Phil closed his eyes and said one final silent farewell. Then with a slight shake of the spade the clod of earth fell.

  ‘It’s going to be alright…’ whispered Liz, her small hand closing over Phil’s on the handle.

  ‘Need a hand?’ came Charlie’s caring voice suddenly from behind them.

  Turning Liz felt a fresh set of tears threatening to fall. There, standing in the rain showing their love and support for Phil, were the rest of the group. Looking from the wet earth newly scattered across David’s body, its presence finally sealing the nightmare into his reality, and then back to Charlie, Phil nodded.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, a sad but thankful smile on his lips. ‘I think David would like that…’

  ***

  Chapter 4

  As she slowly opened her eyes Liz couldn’t help but groan. Sleeping on the floor of the front bedroom, while Carmella and Anne shared the single bed, had seemed like a good idea last night but now her sore neck told her quite a different story. Pushing herself up into a seated position she gently rolled her head back and forth, trying to force her tight muscles to relax. Annoyed she was gaining such little success for her efforts, Liz decided now that she was awake she might as well get up. Moving quietly, so not to wake Carmella and Anne, she pulled her legs from under her threadbare blankets and walked over to the small room’s only window. Sometime during the night the storm had finally blown itself out and as Liz moved aside the curtain to inspect the new day she was suddenly struck by the unexpected beauty that met her.

  Before, with its seemingly endless expanse of dark clouds, the moor had appeared a desolate and foreboding place but now with the coming of a new day a miraculous transformation had somehow occurred. The sky, once grey and oppressive, was now a clean crystal blue tinged in the east by the rising dawn sun which cast a fading blaze of orange and gold before it. Even the cold drab colours of the land had magically changed. Overnight they had become a riot of a countless greens, silvery blues, soft purples and merry yellows. The landscape now looked clean, renewed, alive and everywhere Liz looked the bloom of nature had been bejewelled with a million sparkling dew drops.

  Letting the curtain fall from her fingers, Liz turned and picked up her sheathed sword. Silently slipping the strap over her shoulder she tiptoed to the door, leaving Carmella and Anne to sleep a while longer. As her hand pushed down on the handle, the lock made the slightest of ‘clicks’ allowing the door to open.

  ‘Where are you going?’ whispered Anne, making Liz jump.

  Turning around she saw Anne was sat upright in the bed, her blankets still wrapped tightly about her small shoulders.

  ‘Shush…’ she hissed, holding a finger to her lips, ‘you’ll wake Carmella.’

  ‘Is it time to get up?’ Anne asked, reluctant to expose her warm legs to the chill of the room.

  ‘No, not yet,’ Liz whispered back, ‘I’m just going downstairs to check on Phil and the others… you can go back to sleep for a bit if you like… I’ll wake you soon, OK.’

  A look of worry flitted across Anne’s face.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Liz whispered, stepping back into the room. ‘I’m only going downstairs…’

  ‘Carmella was crying in the night,’ Anne replied, looking down to toy with a loose thread on her blanket.

  ‘I know…’ said Liz, crouching beside the bed to take her sister’s hand. ‘She loved Vincenzo very much and is going to miss him…’

  ‘Vincenzo was nice,’ Anne whispered, looking up to meet her sister’s concerned gaze, ‘and David…’

  ‘Yes they were,’ said Liz, a lump forming in her throat as she reached across to brush away an unruly curl of Anne’s hair from her eyes, ‘and we all going to miss them… but…. but it’s OK to miss them because… because that shows how much we loved them… and that’s a good thing, right?’

  With a small nod of her head, Anne’s attention returned to the loose thread on the blanket. Liz could tell it wasn’t only the sudden and unexpected deaths of Vincenzo and David that was troubling her.

  ‘Anne,’ Liz whispered, tilting the young girl’s chin up so their eyes met once again, ‘Charlie and I will always protect you and keep you safe… You do know that don’t you?’

  Anne gave reply with a shrug of her small shoulders.

  ‘Anne?’ Liz repeated.

  ‘What… what if you leave,’ said Anne, her words barely a whisper, ‘like David and Vincenzo?’

  ‘Oh, Anne,’ Liz replied, pulling her sister into a tight hug, ‘they were accidents… just horrible accidents and I… I can’t promise something like that won’t ever happen… but as long as I have a say in it I’m never going to leave you… and neither is Charlie…. we’re not going anywhere.’

  Gently kissing the top of Anne’s head, she continued, ‘we’re always going to be here for you and no matter how bad things look or how far away we are from each other, we will always do whatever we can to be together again… and to keep you safe… understand?’

  Somewhere in the tight
hug Liz finally felt the movement of Anne’s head nodding.

  ‘OK,’ whispered Liz, finally releasing Anne. ‘Now, you try and get some more sleep… I’ll just be downstairs.’

  ‘OK,’ Anne replied, lying back down.

  With a final tweak of her nose, Liz smiled, stood and walked back to the open door.

  ‘Sweet dreams…’ she whispered, turning briefly to look back at Anne before gently closing the door behind her.

  With her fingers trailing along the faded wallpaper, Liz walked as quietly as she could down the creaking staircase. As she reached the bottom she heard the low rumble of hushed male voices coming from the living room. Stepping through the open doorway, Liz’s gaze swept swiftly across the other sleeping members of the group scattered about the room and came to rest on Charlie and Phil. Phil was slowly nodding a reply to Charlie when he noticed her presence. As their eyes locked, Liz felt the clamp of sorrow about her heart renew its vice-like grip. Phil, who even after five years of the Dead still always looked fit and healthy had been transformed by his grief overnight into a shadow of his former self. Dark shadows hung heavy about his eyes, red and bloodshot from crying and even his skin seemed dull and lifeless on his drawn face.

  ‘I’ll go get Star ready,’ said Phil, looking back at Charlie. ‘I’ll wake up Tom too, so he can deal with Snow.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Charlie replied, patting the large man’s shoulder affectionately as he moved past him.

  ‘Hi,’ Phil managed to say, coming to stop in front of Liz.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied, a weak smile of sympathy on her lips.

  ‘I’m just going to see to the horses,’ continued Phil, his voice hoarse and full of loss.

  Liz simply nodded and moved aside to let him pass. At the last moment she reached out and gently grasped his hand. With her fingers now entwined with his, she gave them a reassuring squeeze, the simple action meaning more than any words she could think of to say. Understanding, Phil returned the unspoken gesture and with a sad smile, turned and left through the front door.

  ‘I take it he didn’t get any sleep last night?’ whispered Liz, walking over to Charlie to watch Phil step slowly through the small front garden to the two waiting carts.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Charlie replied, placing a fatherly hand on Liz’s shoulders. ‘He was in the cart last night… I thought he could do with the privacy…’

  ‘Hmmm,’ agreed Liz, knowing it must be hard to deal with something so personal in front of the rest of the group, no matter how caring or sympathetic they were.

  ‘I told him to try and get some rest today,’ Charlie continued, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t disturbing anyone. ‘Tom or Michael can drive the other cart to Saint Xavier’s. He just needs to take it easy for a while…’

  ‘But he’ll be alright, won’t he?’ said Liz, watching Phil wake up Tom who had spent the night sleeping inside the second cart.

  ‘I think so,’ Charlie replied softly with a nod. ‘I don’t know what you said to him last night but I think you pulled him back from somewhere dark and dangerous… You did good there, girl.’

  Liz turned to look up at Charlie.

  ‘I wish I hadn’t had to,’ she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  ‘Yeah…so do I,’ Charlie agreed, resting his chin on the top of Liz’s head as his eyes drifted back through the window to Phil checking Star’s hooves.

  ***

  ‘Right, barring any problems we should reach Saint Xavier’s sometime around three or four o’clock in the afternoon,’ said Charlie, an hour later as they prepared to leave.

  ‘OK,’ mumbled Tom, looking at the creased map Charlie had laid out on top of the low boundary wall.

  With a light breeze toying with the edges of the well-thumbed paper, Tom fought to hold it in place as he traced the route with a finger.

  ‘Do you want to write it down?’ asked Charlie, hearing Tom repeating to himself the road names and turnings under his breath. ‘I’m sure there’s some paper in the house…’

  ‘No, no I’m fine,’ replied Tom, the route seemingly already lodged in his head. ‘This is nothing… I was a cab driver don’t forget.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, of course you were weren’t you… sorry,’ said Charlie, realising the relatively simple route must have been child’s play for the man who had memorised every road and street in central London in order to get his cab licence.

  ‘Yep and it’s still all up here,’ Tom chuckled, tapping the side of his head. ‘Not that I can see me picking up any fares any time soon.’

  ‘Well not round here, that’s for sure,’ Charlie smiled, gesturing with his head to the empty wilderness around them.

  ‘No… Here,’ said Tom handing Charlie back the refolded map.

  ‘Well, Snow and I are good to go when you are,’ Tom continued. ‘We’re just waiting on Phil. Shall I..?’

  ‘No, I’ll get him…’ interrupted Charlie, knowing Phil would be reluctant to say his last farewell to David’s resting place. ‘You get in, we won’t be a minute.’

  With that, Charlie pushed aside the creaking gate and made his way back through the house to the small rear garden. Pausing briefly by the open kitchen door, Charlie allowed Phil a few final private moments to say goodbye.

  ‘It’s time, mate,’ he softly said, laying his hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. ‘We need to go…’

  ‘Yeah,’ Phil replied, turning to look at Charlie with a reluctant nod, ‘I suppose we do…’

  Crouching down, Phil briefly placed the palm of his hand on the mound of newly turned earth that was David’s grave.

  ‘Goodbye David,’ he said, his voice a shaky whisper.

  He was about to stand when something suddenly caught his eye. There by his hand, glinting in the morning sun, was a small flat stone run through with a brilliant vein of quartz. Picking it up he brushed off the loose wet earth and a sad smile twitched at his lips.

  ‘Diamond in the rough…’ he mumbled to himself, as he stood.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Charlie.

  ‘What? Oh, nothing… just something David said to me once,’ Phil replied, holding up the stone to catch the light.

  Watching the light shimmer and dance within the depths of the crystal, Phil finally allowed his fingers to close tightly about the stone and then with a sigh slipped it into his pocket.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said, giving David’s grave one final glance before stepping through the kitchen door.

  Silently following Phil through the house, Charlie closed each door behind them. Just because they no longer had a use for the house didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t seek refuge there at some point in the future. As he followed Phil through the front door he noticed one of the group had painted a word on the door.

  ‘Not quite…,’ he said under his breath, yanking the door closed as his gaze flitted over the word ‘EMPTY’ scrawled in large dripping letters.

  ‘No, not quite,’ agreed Phil, the hand in his pocket tightly gripping the quartz stone.

  Surprised Phil had heard him, Charlie gave him a sad knowing smile.

  ‘Come on,’ he said nodding toward the two carts where Tom was patiently waiting outside for their return. ‘Let’s go find these people a new home…’

  And so with those words, the two men walked over to the waiting carts, packed and ready for their departure. Charlie once again clambered into the lead cart being pulled by Star while behind him Phil made a beeline for the cart tethered to Snow.

  ‘Come on, Big man,’ said Tom, giving Phil a friendly slap on the shoulder, ‘get that arse of yours inside…’

  Pausing half way through the open side-hatch, Phil spared one final brief look back at the house that had claimed David’s life.

  ‘Phil,’ said Tom, gesturing that the large man would have to move aside to let him enter.

  ‘Sorry,’ Phil replied, shuffling along the bench out of Tom’s way.

  As Tom pulled the side-hatch closed after hi
m the interior of the cart was suddenly plunged into darkness. Phil itched to open one of the spyholes to steel one more look at the house as the cart began to draw away but then something at the back of his mind told him to stop. He knew all that would meet his gaze was the dilapidated ruin of a long forgotten home. He knew the lonely grave they left behind would be the only sign of their passing and whoever next stood in that garden would never understand, care or even wonder who the man buried there had been. In the shadows of the cart Phil slowly began to shake his head. This cold and abandoned place would not become joined with David in his mind, he would refuse to allow it. David had been the embodiment of love and life itself to Phil. David had been funny and caring; gentle and bright. His dark eyes had not held the brooding secrets that many had seen in them, but a wonderful mystery that to Phil had sparkled like…

  ‘Diamonds…’ Phil whispered to himself, smiling sadly as he pulled the small stone from his pocket to run this thumb across its smooth surface.

  Turning he pushed aside the spyhole cover next to him and let a beam of brilliant morning sun break through the darkness. Manoeuvring the flat grey stone in his hand, he watched the vein of quartz sparkle and glint as it was hit by the beam of light. Just like the stone, his love for David had been a thing of beauty trapped in a world of cold darkness and as he marvelled at the light dancing across its crystal surface he thought of David and the short time they had shared together.

  ‘That’s pretty,’ said Sally, leaning forward to look at the sparkling stone.

  ‘Yes,’ Phil softly replied, never taking his eyes from the brilliant wonder in the palm of his hand. ‘Yes, it is…’

  ***

  ‘Are you alright, Carmella?’ asked Fran, somewhat concerned by the look on the pregnant woman’s face.

  ‘No, not really…’ Carmella replied, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position. ‘There is a pain.’

  ‘What… what sort of pain?’ asked Cam, his worried gaze briefly locking with Fran’s.

  They all knew the last thing they needed was for Carmella to go into labour while they were on the road. It could prove disastrous, if not fatal, to not only Carmella but to them all.