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Star Drawn Saga (Book 1): Death Among The Dead: A Zombie Novel

Page 30

by Charlick, Stephen


  Replacing the figurine back on the hall table, Graham nodded and disappeared back the way they had come.

  ‘Can it be fixed?’ Fran asked, noticing Brother Mark was collecting up the shattered pieces of porcelain.

  ‘Stupid really, I know,’ he replied, looking over at her just as she plunged her knife though Brother Christopher’s ear canal and into his brain, his words faltering slightly, ‘what with everything that’s going on but…’

  ‘But we’ve probably lost the know-how to ever make it again’ suggested Tom, bending down to pick up a piece that looked like it had been part of a shepherdess.

  ‘Yes,’ said Brother Mark, slowly taking the offered piece from Tom, ‘something like that.’

  ‘Tom,’ said Fran, simply speaking to fill the awkward silence, ‘try and get whoever’s in the Chapel to open up will you. And I’ll finish up here,’ she continued, stepping over Kevin’s body to grant his head the oblivion of true death.

  ‘Sure,’ Tom replied, leaving Brother Mark to sort through the bits of porcelain.

  Tom had just started to bang on the heavy door, trying to assure them he wasn’t one of the Dead, when Fran heard Graham returning with Kai, Peter and Bella.

  ‘And he cut Kevin’s head off with one blow,’ he was saying to Kai, just as she was gingerly positioning it to look away from her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, pushing down hard on the hilt of her blade, stilling the corpse’s head forever.

  With a tug and a ‘crack’, Fran pulled free her blade and was about to turn to clean the gore from it on one of Brother Christopher’s nearby sleeves when something about Kevin’s head made her pause. Just what about it had piqued her curiosity she had no idea and even as she tilted his face to take a second look, nothing obvious came to her.

  ‘Fran,’ said Tom, breaking her thoughts as he nodding towards the Chapel door, ‘they’re opening up.’

  Sure enough she could hear the sound of heavy furniture scraping across a stone floor while those inside removed their barricade and as she rose, her niggling concerns already forgotten, the door at last sprung open.

  ***

  ‘Two guesses,’ sneered Max, looking down at a pair of roaming eyes as he nudge Kasey’s severed head with his foot.

  ‘Show some respect,’ warned Fran, the anger flaring in the depths of her eyes causing Max to pause.

  ‘Just saying,’ he continued, holding his hands up defensively as he stepped away from the head, ‘it’s clear your mate was here sometime today… that’s all. Now, whether he remembers it or not, well…’

  Allowing his statement to hang unanswered, Max was making a point and she knew it. Tom was an unknown, a dangerous variable that they could never be sure of and if Tom himself was unsure of his own actions that day, what was to say he hadn’t started all this after all.

  ‘It’s Kasey and poor Beth Keys… Scott’s going to be devastated,’ sighed Brother Sam, shaking his head as he stepped around the old woman’s body, crossing himself once he met the hungry glare from the old woman’s head.

  ‘Show the lost no pity or remorse,’ demanded Father Matthew, barely sparing the two corpses a second glance. ‘God has found them wanting, they have befallen the Corruption and are no longer worthy of our grief or concern.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Fran, meeting the man’s cold stare as she stepped past him, determined to give the two woman the eternal rest they deserved. ‘What happened to a loving and forgiving God?’

  ‘The moment they succumbed to the Corruption they were beyond His grace, lost to Him for ever,’ he replied, so matter-of-factly that Fran knew better than to push her luck with more questions to his ideology.

  ‘Someone’s locked this door,’ interrupted Brother John, looking back at Father Matthew. ‘Perhaps there’s someone inside?’

  ‘Or something,’ they all thought, though no one said it.

  When they had finally got into the Chapel ten minutes earlier, Fran had been relieved to find the seven survivors awaiting them; although of course not nearly as relieved as Graham had been to find that his mother was among them. As they hurried in, closing the door behind them, it was clear a strange atmosphere of tension hovered within the small Chapel, almost as if Fran and the others had arrived right in the middle of an argument; certainly some of the looks that were being thrown about suggested this was the case. Emily glared tearfully at Ryanne, Ryanne scowled hatefully back and all while Father Matthew simply frowned, lost deep in his own thoughts.

  It had quickly been decided that she, Tom, Father Matthew and Brother’s Sam and John would form a search party, leaving the others holed up in the chapel while they sought out more survivors. Kai had protested a little about Fran leaving him behind but she knew it came more from his concern for her safety than any wounded male pride, so after only a few words of reassurance, he had seen the sense of her reasoning and agreed to stay. With Brother Mark staying behind with Graham, Emily, Odelia and Ryanne, that just left them with Max to deal with. Simply to save on any arguments, Fran had hoped he would stay behind but for some reason, known only to him and quite out of character, he had insisted he came along.

  So far their methodical room by room search hadn’t found anyone else within the castle, living or Dead; that was until they got to the locked library door with the decapitated bodies of Kasey and old Beth Keys lying in front of it.

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ suggested Tom, stepping past Brother John to knock three times with the handle of one of his sickles. ‘Hello, anyone home?’

  ‘Little pig, little pig, come let us in,’ mumbled Max sarcastically, standing with his arms folded at the back of the group, his chin resting nonchalantly on top of the crowbar he held.

  ‘Careful, you might just be looking down the snout of a wolf yourself, someday,’ said Fran, shooting Max a dirty look, hoping to shut him up.

  Staring blankly back at her, Max, opened his mouth to say something but then, with a ‘click’, the door was unlocked and suddenly pulled open.

  ‘You!’ declared Brother Gregory, appearing in the open doorway, his face twisted with hate and rage as he pointed to Tom. ‘You did this to us! You’re tainted, tainted with darkness and sin… and it is you who have brought the Corruption of Man to this island. You!’

  ‘Brother Gregory, what do you…’ Father Matthew stared to say.

  ‘Their blood is on your hands!’ Brother Gregory continued, glaring at Tom as he stabbed a righteous finger towards the two headless corpses. ‘You did this! I should have known, I should have seen you would do this, I…’

  ‘Brother Gregory!’ Father Matthew shouted, his booming voice shocking his subordinate into silence. ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘explain yourself, what do you mean?’

  ‘He spoke of demons, Father,’ spat Brother Gregory, crossing himself. ‘I heard him… I heard him converse with them.’

  ‘Look, I…’ Tom started to say.

  ‘No, you’ve got it wrong, Tom he…’ Fran tried to interject, her words cut short as Father Matthew raised his hand, clearly signalling she should not speak.

  ‘They demanded death!’ Brother Gregory finally said, his words carrying the weight of a thousand gravestones.

  ‘I’ve heard him too,’ added Max, barely hiding his glee at this sudden turn of events. ‘Talking, having conversations with people, with things that weren’t there.’

  ‘Max, you bastard!’ growled Fran, the panic already building in her chest, fearful the way things were spiralling out of control. ‘Father Matthew, please, he…’

  But Father Matthew would not listen to her pleas, he simply glared at Tom, his fists shaking as fought to control his anger. Even without Max’s confirmation, he had no reason to doubt Brother Gregory’s words; the man clearly had nothing to gain by blaming Tom for what had happened. For a moment no one spoke, and to Fran it felt like the eye of a nightmarish storm was passing over them; the inevitable and terrible maelstrom to come barely but a breath away.


  ‘He cut down Beth as she pleaded for her life,’ said Brother Gregory, his cold words daring Tom to contradict him. ‘I saw him, Father. I saw him do it.’

  ‘Tom, say something!’ Fran cried, astounded he was just standing there, that he wasn’t even defending himself; horrific images of medieval witch burnings flashing fearfully through her mind. ‘Tell them this wasn’t you… for fuck’s sake, tell them, Tom. Tell them!’

  ‘Fran, I…’ Tom started to say and then a blinding light exploded behind his eyes.

  Crumpling to his knees, the pain overwhelmed him, his vision swam and darkness quickly bloomed around him. He could hear raised voices, sensed people jostling about the small corridor and all the while Fran’s muffled yelling. She was shouting something, something he couldn’t quite understand. He tried to hold onto her voice, like she was a tether in a swimming and churning world but she slipped from his grasp, her voice drifting like smoke upon the wind; and then as the blackness finally claimed him, he fell forward.

  ‘You fucking bastards!’ Fran shouted, stepping over Max as she shoved her way past a stunned Brother Sam, desperate to get to Tom. ‘Get away from him! Get your fucking hands off him!’

  Fran hadn’t seen the sharp nod from Father Matthew telling Brother John to act, so when the length of pipe came crashing down across the back of Tom’s head she had been caught totally by surprise. For a moment no one moved, all of them simply watching Tom swaying slightly on his feet and then as he fell to his knees the realisation of what was happening struck her. Darting forward she found herself suddenly being grabbed by Max, his large hands squeezing her upper arms with more than enough force to leave bruises.

  ‘Bad move, arsehole!’ she thought to herself, her martial arts training instantly flooding back to her.

  Within seconds Max was on the floor in front of her, nursing a bloody nose. She shot him a look that warned him to stay down, whether he took her advice she didn’t care; she had restrained herself this time, he wouldn’t be getting off so lightly if he tried it again.

  ‘Tom! Tom, can you hear me!’ she said, pushing Brother John out of her way, to kneel beside him.

  Her fingers gingerly touched the back of his head, the tips coming away wet with blood.

  ‘What the fuck have you done!’ she spat glaring up at Brother John.

  ‘He is a servant of the Corruption,’ said Father Matthew, his tall bulky frame suddenly looming over. ‘He has tainted us with his demon worship, he has brought death to our island and because of it many have fallen, never to feel God’s grace again… this cannot be tolerated.’

  ‘But you don’t know what happened,’ she begged, terrified of what was going to happen at the hands of this religious maniac. ‘You can’t know for sure… and you can’t just blame him because he’s an easy target, because he hears voices in his head!’

  ‘The decision has already been made,’ he replied, looking down at Fran before glancing across at Tom’s unconscious form. ‘It was made the moment you came to our door and sought refuge. As I said then, I say now, those unwelcome to remain may stay until the turning of the tide and with that tide you will leave us.’

  Father Matthew paused briefly, his cold gaze drifting back to Fran.

  ‘Tom will be taken to Smugglers Cove and with the turning of the spring tide he will no longer be our problem,’ he continued, slowly crossing himself.

  With a gnawing sensation in her gut, Fran knew this could not be as simple as Father Matthew was making out; there was more to what he said than she knew.

  ‘And then what?’ she prompted, fearful of what he may say next.

  ‘And then?’ he repeated, unsure of her question. ‘Why, then he will be dead, Fran.’

  ‘What!’ she gasped, shaking her head as the madness of the whole situation threatened to overwhelm her.

  ‘The cove will be four metres under seawater at the high tide,’ Father Matthew informed her, saying the words as if imparting simple tourist information. ‘A metal grate across the mouth of the cove prevents any of the Corrupt gaining access to the island, Tom will be padlocked to it and as the high tide fills the cavern God’s just vengeance will be reaped.’

  ‘No!’ gasped Fran, the image of Tom bound and drowning flashed in her mind. ‘You can’t… you just can’t, it’s not fair!’

  ‘Fair?’ said Father Matthew, somewhat bewildered by her choice of words. ‘Fair had nothing to do with it, Fran. This is God’s word, His Commandment. He has told us how to choose who can stay and how we are to live here… we must obey. I am but His servant doing His bidding.’

  ‘Take me!’ she suddenly blurted, seeing the smallest chink of hope for Tom and making a grab for it. ‘I’ll stay. You said before you hoped I’d stay. I’ll stay. You just have to give me a chance…’ she continued her words urgently running over each other as she saw the look of surprise on Father Matthew’s face, ‘a chance to prove Tom didn’t do this, to prove he’s not to blame for all this. Let me prove Tom’s innocence and I’ll stay.’

  ‘And if you cannot prove this?’ asked Father Matthew, toying with the crucifix about his neck, his eyes narrowing as he considered her offer.

  ‘I’ll stay anyway,’ she replied, thankful that Father Matthew was clearly taking her offer seriously. ‘It’s a win-win situation. He’s guilty, you get your vengeance and I stay. I prove he’s innocent, he goes free and I still stay. You want this place to survive,’ she continued, a flash of inspiration giving her just what she needed, ‘you’re going to need babies sooner or later…. how many of the woman here can still bear children?’

  With that last teaser sweetening the pot, she saw in his eyes the decision was made; he knew a deal when he saw it, but he could not just come right out and say so, after all he needed to paint this with divine approval first.

  ‘Even amid the darkness He provides,’ boomed Father Matthew, his palms raised dramatically in thanks before looking back down at Fran. ‘You have your deal, Fran, though in reality it was never your deal to make. God brought you to us for a reason and perhaps this is it. You will have until the turning of the tide to prove the innocence of your friend but no matter what you find… you will stay.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, nodding. ‘I will stay. But nowhere and no one can be off limits,’ she continued, the phrase ‘the devil is in the details’ suddenly popping into her mind. ‘Everyone must answer my questions… I must be given a fair chance.’

  ‘You will have your chance, Fran,’ he agreed, fixing her with his unwavering and slightly challenging stare, ‘the deal will be kept… I will make sure of it.’

  ‘Crap,’ she thought. ‘Now, how in the hell am I going to get out of this?’

  ***

  Chapter 4: A tangled web.

  Fran sat slumped against the wall, her knees drawn up and her head resting forlornly in her hands.

  ‘Christ,’ she thought, wearily tilting her head to look over her knees at the fourteen sheet-covered corpses, ‘what a waste!’

  ‘Fran?’ said Kai, his head suddenly appearing round the door of the quarantine room where they had decided to store the bodies.

  ‘Here,’ she sighed, already calmed by his presence.

  Without moving from her spot, she reached out a hand to him, her fingers wiggling as if to entice him closer.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, walking over to take her hand as he slid down the wall next to her.

  ‘Yeah…’ she started to say, a sad smile on her lips. ‘Wait, no, no I’m not. The shit’s hit the fan here and it seems I’m the only one looking to find out what happened, what really happened.’

  ‘Not th…the only one,’ Kai reminded her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

  ‘Sorry, you know what I mean,’ she replied, gently kissing the fingers now entwined in her own. ‘These people!’ she continued, her frustration suddenly erupting as she gestured to some point beyond the walls of the building. ‘What’s wrong with them? Why can’t they think for themselves? Why are they such she
ep?’

  ‘Th…they’re scared, Fran,’ he offered, with a brief shrug of his broad shoulders, ‘and Father Matthew gives them something to hope for, to b…believe in.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she simply replied, turning her head so she could rest it against him. ‘I suppose so… and how’s Tom?’

  ‘Aw…wake and pissed off,’ he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. ‘Very pissed off… Oh and I t…told him about your d…deal.’

  ‘Oh yeah, and how did that go down?’ she asked, idly picking at something encrusted on her jeans.

  ‘You don’t w…want to know,’ he replied.

  For a moment the pair simply sat in silence, taking comfort from each other until Kai spoke.

  ‘Are we r…really staying?’ he asked, his whispered words only just loud enough for her to hear.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said, raising an eyebrow, a mischievous smile twitching at her lips.

  ***

  ‘That leaves the cottages, gardens, woodland and the harbour,’ said Father Matthew finally pulling a heavy oak door closed behind him. ‘The cottages are closest and probably our best bet for finding survivors.’

  ‘Well, come on then,’ sighed Fran, stretching her neck to relieve some of the built up tension, ‘we might as well get on with it.’

  After Fran and Father Matthew had struck their deal, Tom’s unconscious form had been restrained and left under Brother Gregory’s watchful eye while the rest of the group continued their quest. In the end it had taken them almost two painstaking and stressful hours to thoroughly search the castle, making their way from room to room, top to bottom, systematically checking each room for the survivors, the Dead or the dying; but despite the bloody tragedies that had already occurred within the castle that day, they thankfully found themselves being met with nothing more than one empty room after another.

  ‘Ladies first,’ said Max, sarcastically waving Fran forward, his swollen bloody nose distorting his words.

  Fran started to open her mouth to speak, the fatigue and tension of the previous two hours having shortened her temper to little more than a frazzled stump but then she noticed the strange look Max was giving her. Behind his blood smeared face and bruised nose, he was strangely confrontational and almost smug like. It was if he knew something, something that would affect her; perhaps not immediately, but definitely at some point in the future and it made her uneasy.

 

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