‘Well…’ Rod began, nervously searching for the right words before Brother Sam spoke for him.
‘The sleep of the righteous,’ he said, his right hand slowly making the sign of the cross before continuing. ‘We are lucky here, we had an extensive and established herb garden on the island, many of which have medicinal properties to cure the sick, while others can be…’
‘Poisonous?’ suggested Fran, glancing over at Tom.
‘Exactly,’ Brother Sam replied, solemnly nodding. ‘The Lord is generous, even in our darkest times, He has provided those unable to stay here a way to avoid the Corruption forever, a way to keep their soul pure.’
‘Fuck, you let them take their own lives,’ Tom matter-of-factly stated, scratching the back of his head in disbelief. ‘You actually help them to die rather than bend your own rules?’
‘They are the rules of the Lord,’ the young man replied, as if he was talking to a child rather than a man almost twenty years his senior. ‘Father Matthew is merciful and he is blessed. If the Lord had not demanded it, he would surely let all those who find their way to our door to stay, but it is not so. It is not in God’s plan for St Michael’s mount. Father Matthew says only those…’
‘Thank you, Brother Sam,’ interrupted a man’s voice from behind them. ‘I will explain the rest to our guests. You may resume your other duties.’
Standing behind them, framed in the doorway, the bright morning sunshine throwing his imposing figure into silhouette, was a tall, broad shouldered man dressed in a full length blood red robe. Behind him Brother Gregory shuffled from one foot to the other, trying to peer past the man blocking his view and into the room of new arrivals.
‘Yes, Father Matthew,’ whispered Brother Sam, automatically lowering his eyes, the subservient gesture not going unnoticed by Kai and Fran who shared a look of mild disapproval.
‘Roderick Adams, my old friend!’ exclaimed Father Matthew striding into the room, his arms outstretched. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you again. The Lord has surely walked with you among the Corrupt, watching over you and by His grace granted you safe passage back to us.’
‘Well, I think He may have had some… help there,’ said Rod, starting to cough again. ‘Thanks to Fran here, I...’
‘Oh, Rod, I’ll bring you into the light of the Lord yet, you old scoundrel,’ Father Matthew laughed, pulling Rod into a fierce hug to clap his large hands against the man’s back in welcome. ‘Now be off with you, Emily and your son are waiting for you at the Purity Archway and then get yourself to the infirmary, see if Brandon has something for that nasty cough of yours.’
‘I will,’ coughed Rod, awkwardly trying to remove himself from the embrace with the man he had known for most of his life. ‘And when you’ve time, I want to talk to you about just how I managed to find myself being left on the mainland in the first place.’
‘Now, now,’ admonished Father Matthew, his hands still resting with ease on Rod’s shoulders while he pushed him at arm’s length to look him sincerely in the eye, ‘there’s plenty of time for all that. I will hear your words and I will pray on them for guidance, I promise… but first I think your family need to see you, don’t you?’
‘Excuse me but what’s the deal?’ interrupted Max, his anger only just masked by a veneer of politeness. ‘Rod said I wouldn’t be allowed to stay but my brother here, his wife and kid they…’
‘Please, Mr…’ Father Matthew started to say, waiting for Max to respond.
‘Harper, Max Harper,’ Max replied.
‘Mr Harper,’ Father Matthew continued, his arms crossing as his hands slipped effortlessly into the folds of his sleeves, ‘I was hoping to discuss this later, after you’d been given a chance eat and perhaps change into some clean clothes but… but I can understand your concerns. To send anyone back among the Corrupt is not something I take likely.’
‘Then why do it?’ asked Tom, knowing he and Max were for some reason in the same boat.
‘It is the Lord’s will,’ Father Matthew simply replied, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
‘What the f…’ Max growled, his veneer starting to slip.
‘Please, Mr Harper, please. Let me explain,’ said Father Matthew, knowing from Max’s red face that he was about to erupt and hoping his words would calm him. ‘When Man’s sin brought forth the Corruption upon us all, the Lord saw fit to grant myself and a chosen few a safe passage among the death and destruction. He brought us here and offered us a chance to rebuild anew, to rebuild our lives in His name. But then as to be expected more survivors came, many more. They banged and hollered at our gates, first demanding and then pleading to be let in as the Corrupt bore down on them but I knew the Lord, in his wisdom, had not chosen them so I prayed for guidance on what to do. And in our darkest hour His words came to me, the words of God filled my soul and I was told what must be done. From then on, we took in the children and the innocent. We took in the young and the healthy and we gave sanctuary to those upon whose shoulders the Lord could rebuild his world.’
‘But I’m…’ Max began before Father Matthew withdrew his hand from his sleeve to hold up a finger to let him finish.
‘But still they came, more of these men and women, who through no fault of their own were not meant to be part of the Lord’s new order. The old, the sick, those whose very souls were tainted by the world beyond… and again His words filled me and I did as he bade,’ he continued, looking from one face to the next. ‘Of those adults that found their way here we would only allow parents, those with their own children or those under the age of thirty-three to stay. The others…’
‘The others you sent back among the Dead,’ said Tom, simply unable to understand Father Matthew’s rationale, especially when people’s lives were at stake, ‘or I hear you give them a means to take the easy way out.’
‘The passing is never easy,’ said Father Matthew, a genuine look of sadness in his eyes. ‘Even armed with the knowledge that without the stain of Corruption on them the Lord will welcome them into his embrace, it is a difficult decision for any to make. We… we simply allow them to drift off into a deep sleep if they choose it, a sleep from which there is no waking.’
‘And then you do what’s necessary before they come back?’ said Tom, suddenly thinking of Sharon’s young lifeless body back on the beach.
‘Yes,’ nodded Father Matthew. ‘Before the Corruption can take hold of them, we do what is required.’
‘Seems a little random though,’ said Fran, ‘I mean thirty-three… why at thirty-three? Why not forty or twenty-seven or whatever?’
‘I am only the messenger,’ Father Matthew solemnly replied, holding out both of his hands, open palmed, as if to show he had nothing to hide. ‘Who am I to question His divine plan? He told me thirty-three, so thirty-three it is and always will be.’
‘Hmm,’ mumbled Tom, knowing that from something Rod had said, Father Matthew wasn’t such a stickler for these divine rules as he made out.
After all Rod had hinted that they would possibly be allowed to stay if they had medical training or some other much needed skill useful to the growing community.
‘The baby Jesus was thirty-three when he went to heaven,’ Peter quietly said to no one in particular, while he and Bella played a tug of war with an old rag.
‘Why, yes, Peter. Yes, he certainly did,’ exclaimed Father Matthew, the sudden joyous clapping of his hands startling Bella enough for her to let go of her end of the rag to look at him. ‘Now just how did you know that?’
‘Pops used to read me the stories,’ Peter replied, looking up at the man stood over him.
‘Pops? And who’s Pops?’ asked Father Matthew, smiling as he crouched down to be on Peter’s eye level.
Suddenly Peter’s face seemed to crumple in on itself, heavy tears welling up only to fall down his cheeks as the image of the savage Dead thing that had attacked his sister flashed through his mind.
‘Oh, my boy,’ sighed Father Matthew, realising whoe
ver Pops had been he was clearly no longer in the land of the living. ‘Come on now, come on, don’t upset yourself. You know what?’ he continued, his tone softening even further and becoming one you would use with an upset and frightened child. ‘Even if your Pops did succumb to the Corruption, he sounds to me like he was a good and God fearing man, I’m sure the Lord will look kindly upon his soul.’
‘And… and he’ll be in heaven with Mum and Dad and Sharon?’ sobbed Peter, his right hand reaching up to rub this ear lobe between his finger and thumb, while beside him Bella whined anxiously as she tried to nuzzle past Peter’s arm to reach his face. ‘Sharon… Sharon said they would all be together.’
‘And I’m sure they will,’ said Father Matthew, his large slab like hands gently pulling the young man into a fatherly hug before slowly pulling him to his feet. ‘Now come on, we can say some nice prayers for your family later, what you need now is something warm inside you. How about we get you something to eat, eh?’
‘I took the liberty of warning Lucy and Kasey to prepare extra breakfast this morning… just in case,’ Brother Gregory informed from his somewhat standoff-ish position by the open doorway.
‘In case of what?’ asked Tom, though he could take a pretty good guess as to what the man was so casually referring to.
‘Thank you, Brother Gregory,’ said Father Matthew, looking over at his subordinate before he could answer. ‘As always I can rely on you to think of everything.’
For the briefest of moments, Father Matthew’s eyes flicked back to Tom, and in that one glance Tom saw the unspoken warning given; a warning that clearly said ‘don’t push your luck.’
‘Now,’ Father Matthew continued, softly pushing Peter away from him to give him a square of crumpled cloth that presumably he was expected to wipe his running nose on, ‘let’s get you all something to eat, shall we.’
He was just leading Peter to the open door, Bella following close on their heels, when Dave spoke up, stopping him.
‘Excuse me, Father… Father Matthew,’ he said, ignoring the sharp look his wife gave him to be quiet, ‘but how long is my brother going to be allowed to stay?’
With his arm still protectively resting on Peter’s shoulders, Father Matthew looked from Dave over to Max and then to Tom.
‘You came with the tide, you shall leave with the tide,’ he solemnly replied, his words carrying the weight of divine commandment. ‘The Spring tide will be with us two days after the tomorrow’s full moon… you have until then and then you must either chose the ‘sleep of the righteous’ or you must leave.’
‘Three days,’ muttered Fran, catching Kai’s eye.
Rather than speak, Kai simply gave her a small smile to reassure her he understood and was in agreement. They both knew Tom would never choose suicide, it simply wasn’t in him and no matter how Father Matthew added his Godly spin on what was really happening at St Michael’s mount, they both knew they could never truly trust this man or those that made up his congregation. So as Fran’s lips twitched into a knowing smile of her own, she knew whatever happened, they would all be leaving in three days with the turning of the Spring tide.
‘Mum, what does he mean?’ Fran heard Riley ask his mother as one by one they began to file out of the small building that had effectively been their prison for the night. ‘It’s autumn time, spring’s not for months.’
Only half listening to the conversation behind her, Fran took a moment to finally take in their surroundings as she stepped out into chilly morning sun. When they had arrived the previous evening the sun had already started to dip below the horizon and being exhausted, if not a little shell-shocked by their journey, they had been unable to get a true feel for the place they had then hoped would be their new home. But now with a clear blue sky overhead marred with only the thinnest wisps of cloud far off to the east, Fran could see the true marvel of St Michael’s mount around her.
The two small converted shops, nestled at the base of a steep unscalable cliff, were the only buildings on a cracked tarmacked road curving to the left as it followed the natural incline of the island. But it was what rose above them that she found truly amazing, for no sooner did the cliff begin to level off than every conceivable ledge, shelf, or patch of green had been planted with some sort of fruiting tree, bush or vegetable patch. Some twenty metres above this she could see the back of a row of small grey stone cottages while beyond them, through what looked to be woodland no bigger than a football pitch and looking down over all of its small island kingdom, was the imposing fifteenth century castle of St Michael’s mount itself.
‘It has nothing to do with springtime,’ tutted Brother Gregory, his annoyed tone bringing Fran’s attention back to those around her. ‘The spring tide is a higher than usual tide, it comes a few days after each full moon. It’s to do with the pull of gravity from the sun and moon when they are in alignment. You live on an island now, boy,’ he continued, managing to look down his nose at Riley despite the boy being only a fraction shorter than himself, ‘and alongside your other apprenticeship subjects you will also have maritime studies.’
‘You have a school here?’ asked Jane, knowing that with children there was a future and in that future ultimately hope for them all. ‘How many children are there on the island?’
‘At the moment we have eight children among us and by the grace of God, a further two on the way,’ answered Father Matthew, as if announcing it to the whole group as they followed the short road around the corner. ‘We don’t have a school as such and apart from general literacy, mathematics and religious studies there is no schooling in the old world sense of the word, but rather each child is put on a two week rotation with one of the skilled adults of the island. This way we can find what work best suits each child and uses any natural skills they possess.’
‘What s…sort of sk…skills?’ asked Kai.
‘Ah, so you do speak,’ smiled Father Matthew, turning to look back at Kai. ‘I was beginning to think you’d been struck dumb back there, young man. But to answer your question, let’s see… the children work with Roy Willis, our head gardener, with Rod or Scott on the two fishing boats we have in our harbour, in the kitchens preparing food,’ he continued, ticking each task off on his fingers. ‘With Brandon in the infirmary…’
‘You have a doctor?’ interrupted Fran, knowing that anyone with medical knowledge was a rare thing indeed these days, especially since they and other hospital staff had been among the primary casualties when the Dead first appeared.
‘Well, technically Brandon is a dentist,’ Father Matthew replied, winking at Fran in an almost comic manner, ‘but he’s the closest thing we’ve got to one… and thanks to a trip to the late Dr Carson’s surgery in Marazion, we’ve at least got some reference books to help fill any gaps in his knowledge.’
‘Certainly better than nothing,’ said Tom. ‘Last thing you need is some well-meaning idiot killing someone.’
‘Hmm, agreed,’ said Father Matthew, looking over at Tom with an odd look in his eye as if he was trying to figure something out about this strange, very much ‘to the point’, man who had found his way onto his island.
Despite Rod having a head start, he turned out to be only a few metres ahead of them as they turned the corner. What started out as a steady pace eager to see his family, albeit with a pronounced limp, had quickly deteriorated into a torturous hobbling; each step seemingly more painful than the last.
‘Do you need a hand, old friend?’ asked Father Matthew, stepping forward to slip one of Rod’s arms over his shoulder. ‘Come let me help you… at least as far as the Purity Arch. Take his other side, will you Peter,’ he continued, before Rod could protest. ‘Let’s help him to his family.’
‘What is this Purity Archway?’ Fran asked Brother Gregory, watching Peter, seemingly already enamoured by the charismatic older man, rush to do as he was told. ‘It’s just that it’s been mentioned a few times now.’
‘It’s a symbol of…’ Brother Gregory beg
an to say before Father Matthew spoke over his words.
‘By passing through the Archway,’ said Father Matthew, glancing back over his shoulder to Fran, ‘we are cleansed by the grace of our Lord and born anew, free and untainted by our previous lives. Through Him, we leave behind us the sin of the outside world and with it those who have fallen to the Corruption.’
‘Leave them behind?’ said Tom, a look of uncertainty creasing his features. ‘I’m sorry to disagree with you there Father, but the Dead are always with us. You can’t just wipe away the memory of loved ones.’
‘Or how they were taken,’ Fran added reluctantly, knowing that of all of them Tom truly carried his Dead with him.
‘What good does it do any of us to linger on pain and loss?’ Father Matthew replied, shaking his head. ‘This island is our new Eden, I will not have it sullied with memories of the wastelands and the Corrupt that dwell there…. No, it is better this way. This is what the Lord demands of us.’
At the mention of ‘demands’ Tom and Fran exchanged a brief but knowing glance. From what Rod had told them of the unfortunate souls put to the flames, they had a pretty good guess what happened to those who broke these divine commandments but just what did it really take to push the seemingly friendly man in front of them to snap and instigate such atrocities against his fellow man. After all, even though their time here would be short lived they certainly wanted to be able to leave in one piece.
‘Anyway,’ Father Matthew continued, ‘you’ll see for yourself very shortly, we’re just about there.’
With the narrow road still following the curve of the island, the new arrivals didn’t have long to wait before the Purity Archway, barely some twenty metres ahead of them, came into view. Just how Fran had pictured the Archway in her head, she hadn’t really given it much consideration but the strangely beautiful three metre high scaffolding frame spanning the full expanse of the road and covered in a waterfall of countless red ribbons that snapped in the light wind, was certainly not what she had expected.
Star Drawn Saga (Book 1): Death Among The Dead: A Zombie Novel Page 14