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

by Charlick, Stephen

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ he laughed, gently pushing her slightly away from him to look at her, ‘I’ve still got one hell of a headache and I think I may have got trench foot from being stood knee deep in sea water all this time, but apart from that I’m okay. Promise.’

  ‘Good, I’m so glad,’ she replied, at last feeling a sense of relief creeping over her. ‘I mean about you being okay obviously, not the headache and trench foot thing.’

  ‘Thanks,’ smiled Tom, after nodding a ‘manly’ hello to Kai. ‘So come on, spill the beans, who did it and how did you work it out?’

  ‘M…Max and B…Brother John,’ said Kai, pulling out one of the chairs tucked under the small chess table; as he sat down he moved a small book someone had dropped on the board and was about to instinctively reset the chessboard when he noticed some of the pieces were missing, presumably lost during the bloody attacks.

  ‘Those two?’ said Tom, a look of surprise and confusion on his face. ‘Why on earth those two? Surely they can’t have known each other for more than a few hours. Do we know why?’

  ‘Well that’s the point,’ replied Fran, walking over to one of the tables to pull out two more seats, all the while making sure not to glance out of any of the windows; fearful of witnessing the medieval justice soon to be executed, ‘they did know each other… years ago I mean. Turns out Brother John is Max’s son.’

  ‘Fuck me!’ whistled Tom, lowering himself slowly into one of the chairs. ‘What are the chances of that happening… after all these years too.’

  ‘I know,’ said Fran, noticing that despite spending time knee deep in water, Tom’s sleeves and chest were still caked in dried on blood and gore, ‘and that’s not the best part, the social worker that took Brother John and his sister into care was here all the while too, he just didn’t know it.’

  ‘Social worker?’ asked Tom, ‘Who?’

  ‘Kevin, Kevin Harrison,’ she replied. ‘We met him just as we were finishing our meal… He arrived with that bloke with the Christmas jumper on. Father Matthew had a conversation about chess with them, remember? Anyway,’ she continued, as Tom gave a brief noncommittal nod, ‘Dave recognised Kevin and later told Max.’

  ‘Oh right, yeah I do remember them now,’ said Tom, scratching at the stubble on his chin. ‘And I take it Jane recognised him too, right? That’s why she dropped those plates and acted all weird when they came in.’

  ‘Erm… no,’ said Fran, looking over to Kai, a little confused Tom would make that assumption. ‘No, Jane didn’t know Kevin. It all happened long before she met Dave.’

  ‘Funny… I would’ve sworn that’s what happened,’ said Tom, with a shrug of his shoulders.

  ‘Shit!’ Kai suddenly gasped, staring at the small leather bound book he held open in his hand.

  ‘What? What’s the matter?’ asked Fran, the look of shock on Kai’s face sending a chill of concern creeping up her spine.

  ‘J…Jane, she may not have known K…Kevin but… but I think Tom’s right, she may have r…recognised someone… Brandon,’ he replied, looking from Fran to Tom as he twisted the book in his hands to show them something. ‘Look.’

  ‘What? Am I missing something?’ asked Tom, while beside him Fran gasped as she read the words printed on the inside cover.

  ‘Oh…. fuck!’ she spat, as she walked over to Kai and took the book from him. ‘She did know him… Jane did know Brandon.’

  ‘Sorry, how?’ asked Tom, knowing he was missing some vital piece of information.

  ‘Bournemouth University library,’ said Fran, reading the words printed on the inside sleeve of the book. ‘Jane said earlier that she met Dave while she was at Bournemouth University. She must have known Brandon from back then… and from the reaction she had to seeing him, I don’t think the memories were good ones.’

  As she turned back to look at Tom, her eyes flicked once again to his sleeves, stiff with dried blood, and then in an instant a horrifying flash of clarity hit her, causing the book to slip her grasp.

  ‘Oh, God, no!’ she whispered, the image of Dave flashing through her mind, his sleeves wet with bright red blood. ‘It was Dave… it was Dave all along.’

  ‘Fran?’ asked Kai, taking her shaking hands in his, as he turned her back to look at him. ‘What do you mean it was D…Dave?’

  ‘The bodies,’ she began, shaking her head at her own stupidity, ‘I knew there was something wrong, I knew something was out of place. Christ, I’ve been such an idiot!’

  ‘Yeah, the extra cut on K…Kevin’s neck…’ Kai began to say before she shook her head correcting him.

  ‘No,’ she continued, ‘I mean, yes that was wrong too but it wasn’t what was wrong with the bodies that was niggling me… I know that now… it was the amount of them.’

  ‘What, all those corpses not enough for you?’ asked Tom, still a little lost as to where Fran was taking them.

  ‘Yes, precisely that!’ she replied. ‘We were one short, or least we should have been if we were to believe what Dave told us. Don’t you remember,’ she continued, looking back at Kai, ‘when we met him at the cart he was covered in blood and he said he’d had to put one down … well, which one, who? There wasn’t anyone unaccounted for. So where did the blood come from?

  ‘But why w...would he want to kill Kevin?’ asked Kai.

  ‘He didn’t, not really,’ Fran replied. ‘Don’t you see, it was Brandon, he was the one he wanted to kill… Kevin was… was…’

  ‘A handy weapon,’ suggested Tom.

  ‘Yep,’ nodded Fran, everything suddenly slotting into place. ‘We were all here, we all heard Father Matthew telling Kai that Brandon and Kevin met every evening to play chess. Jane must have told Dave about Brandon or perhaps he just guessed from her reaction to him, anyway, later on he made up some excuse to come into the castle and then, once he had made sure Peter was safely out of harm’s way, he came here to kill Kevin, knowing his corpse would attack Brandon as soon as he walked through the door… and the best part is that if anyone looked into it, it would all point the blame to someone else.’

  ‘Max,’ stated Kai.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Fran, nodding as she nervously chewed on her fingernail.

  ‘Well, as much as I think it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving wanker than Max,’ commented Tom, reaching behind him to retrieve his two curved blades, ‘I guess we should do something.’

  ‘I just hope Father Matthew will listen to us,’ said Fran, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath on her thigh and praying it wasn’t already too late.

  ***

  Bursting through a heavy oak door, its old weather-worn surface dotted with dark metal studs, they found themselves outside on a narrow gravel path lined with tall bushy shrubs and large pots full of what looked to be herbs of some kind.

  ‘Damn!’ said Fran, realising they had come out of the castle into an area that hadn’t been part of Father Matthew’s tour, ‘Which way now?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ asked Tom, already darting ahead of her along the path. ‘This place isn’t that big... come on.’

  ‘I hope he’s right,’ Fran muttered to Kai, as they broke into a run to catch up with Tom. ‘Tom! Tom, wait up!’ she called as he disappeared around a curve in the path. ‘Wait for us!’

  Luckily, as they too took the curve the tall shrubs fell away and the path opened up onto a small vegetable patch, across from which they could see the back of one of the cottages. Fran could see Tom was clambering awkwardly through what appeared to be a marrow and pumpkin patch; he was treading lightly so not to damage any of the precious gourds.

  ‘Tom, wait!’ she called, hoping the prospect of violence hadn’t brought forth his inner demons again.

  But she needn’t have worried for Tom turned at the sound of her voice, an exasperated look on his face.

  ‘Move it, you two,’ he urged, with a flick of his head. ‘Something tells me we’ve haven’t got time to dawdle.’

  ‘What do you…’ Fr
an started to say and then she heard it, the sombre and chilling sound of singing drifting on the breeze; it seemed that whatever Father Matthew had planned for Max and Brother John, the ball was already rolling. ‘Oh, crap!’

  With an increased sense of urgency Fran and Kai sprinted to catch up with Tom, the unwanted images of the two men being burned alive making their passing through the vegetable patch certainly a lot less measured than his.

  ‘Down here!’ cried Tom, running down the side of the cottage, his cry sending a startled cat darting for cover.

  Running through what at best could be described as a narrow gap between this cottage and the one next to it, Kai found himself having to twist his broad shoulders sideways just to be able to pass through but as they finally broke through to the front they were rewarded with the recognisable cobbled road surface beneath their feet.

  ‘Oh, my God, look!’ gasped Fran, pointing to a wispy trial of white smoke already rising into the evening sky tinted pink and gold from the setting sun.

  ‘Look like it’s c…coming from the harbour,’ suggested Kai, urging Fran to move with a tug of her sleeve.

  Running to the end of the cobbled lane, cottages either side of them standing empty and momentarily abandoned, Fran tried to blot out the sound of dirgeful hymn being carried to them on the wind, but with each step she found herself praying it would continue, fearful of what its end may signify. They were just passing the final cottage and were about to take the small lane that led to the harbour when Fran noticed Peter sat slumped against a wall, his head in his hands with Bella and Jack sat either side of him like furry sentinels. As he heard them approach he looked up and something about his tearful eyes made Fran’s steps falter.

  ‘Wait!’ she called to the other two, changing direction and running over to Peter.

  ‘I’ve been bad,’ sniffed Peter, wiping his running nose against his sleeve as she ran up to him.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you haven’t, Peter,’ panted Fran, dropping down to look at him while Bella moved in to give her hand a friendly lick. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Fran!’ cried Tom, from behind her.

  ‘I know!’ she shouted in reply, not even turning to look at him; she knew well enough that time was running out but something told her that Peter knew something. ‘Why do you think you’ve been bad?’ she repeated, her tone soft and encouraging as she pushed her urgency aside.

  ‘Everyone else has gone to the harbour,’ he began, his hand instinctively burying itself in Bella’s thick fur, ‘but Father Matthew said I couldn’t come… he said I had to stay here and wait for him.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean you’ve been bad, Peter,’ she replied, thinking she may be wasting precious seconds after all.

  ‘But then Mr Dave said the same thing,’ added Peter, his large dark eyes full of hurt and innocence. ‘He wouldn’t let me go with him and Riley… and Riley’s my friend.’

  ‘Mr Dave?’ she said, her interest suddenly piqued again. ‘Mr Dave said you couldn’t go where, Peter? Where did he go with Riley?’

  ‘There,’ Peter replied, pointing to the path leading into the patch of woodland opposite them.

  ‘Thank you, Peter,’ she said, cupping the young man’s face in her hand. ‘You’ve not been bad... not by a long shot.’

  As she expected, it didn’t take much to lighten his mood and as a big smile spread across his snot and tear streaked face, she turned to wave to Tom and Kai.

  ‘You two need to stop what’s going on at the harbour,’ she began.

  ‘F…Fran what?’ asked Kai, unsure why she was talking as if she wasn’t coming.

  ‘There’s no time,’ she butted in, abruptly cutting off his words. ‘You need to get down there and tell Father Matthew what we know before it’s too late... I’m going after Dave.’

  ‘Fran, he can wait, he’s not going anywhere,’ said Tom, suggesting she should perhaps leave his apprehension to Father Matthew and his minions.

  ‘I know,’ she said, standing, her worried gaze flicking to the rising smoke trail and hoping it was still only damp wood they were burning. ‘Look we haven’t got time for this,’ she continued, ‘I can handle Dave, you know I can… you just save Max and Brother John. Okay!’

  Before they could protest further, she sprinted away from them, the weight of the hunting knife in her hand giving her a touch of the confidence her words had implied. She was but a few strides from the small path leading into the woodland when she glanced behind her; sure enough Tom was already running towards Harbour Walk, while a few steps behind him Kai was holding out his hand urging a despondent looking Peter to stay where he was.

  No sooner had she started along the path, its stones jutting at odd angles as weeds and tufts of grass forced them apart, than the effect of the tall trees around her noticeably dampened the sound of the singing to little more than an unsettling murmur.

  ‘Where the fuck are you?’ she thought to herself, as she silently made her way along the overgrown pathway, deeper into the wood.

  As she walked, beams of golden light tinged with the faintest hint of rose, would break through the canopy above, dappling the path ahead of her and highlighting a myriad of tiny flying insects and unnameable floating motes. Yet not even these merry pools of light could dispel the sense of foreboding that crept slowly up her spine and as she came to a split in the path, the faint sound of a man’s voice beckoning her to the right, she felt whatever happened in the next few minutes was doomed to end badly.

  ‘You’re all that’s left.’ She heard Dave say, as she edged toward the very same clearing that she and Kai had made love in the previous afternoon. ‘Once you’re gone, she can put this behind her… don’t you see, you’re holding her back, you’re stopping her from being happy.’

  Without making a sound, Fran stepped out into the tiny cliff-top glade and saw Dave. He was kneeling with his back to her, close to the cliff edge and lying in the grass in front of him was Riley, looking pale and still. She thought to rush him but with Riley so close to the edge she daren’t risk it, after all from the way he was talking it was clear Dave meant him harm.

  ‘Dave,’ she softly said, her tone neutral and nonthreatening as she hid the knife in her hand behind her. ‘What are you doing, Dave?’

  At the sound of her voice, Dave slowly turned his head and as their eyes met, she instantly knew he was lost to reason.

  ‘Dave?’ she repeated, unsure whether he was even registering her presence. ‘Dave, it’s me, Fran.’

  ‘Fran?’ he murmured, her name sounding distant and vague on his tongue. ‘She was so unhappy,’ he continued to mumble, his mind seemingly dancing from one internal monologue to the next as he slowly got to his feet. ‘I hated to see her unhappy… because I loved her, I loved her so much, you see.’

  ‘I know,’ whispered Fran, wondering how she was going to coax Dave away from Riley.

  ‘I promised to protect her... to keep her safe,’ he continued, looking down at the long knife in his hand. ‘But he was here… why was he here? After all this time… why did he survive the Dead? When… when so many died, so many innocents and he was here all along, he survived… it wasn’t right… not after what he did to her… to Jane, to my Jane.’

  ‘No,’ said Fran, risking a single step towards him.

  ‘She didn’t think I knew, but I did…’ he continued, wiping the sweat from his face with a shaking hand, ‘I saw it in her eyes when she looked at him, I knew he was the one that did it… the one that hurt her all those years ago.’

  ‘What… what did Brandon do?’ she asked, taking another small step closer.

  ‘He broke her,’ Dave replied, his words faint and tearful as images only he could see played across his mind. ‘He forced his way inside her and she broke… she broke apart. He was evil!’ he snapped, suddenly drawn back to the here and now. ‘The things he did to her, he deserved all he got and more… he was a monster!’

  ‘Dave,’ she started to say, wondering dare she
risk another step. ‘Dave, let me take Riley and we’ll talk about this…’

  ‘And then there was this,’ Dave sneered gesturing dismissively to Riley with his knife. ‘With him around, that bastard, Brandon, never left her, never let her forget… right from the time he was born he looked at her with his eyes, with Brandon’s eyes and… and I knew it tore her up… I knew.’

  ‘No, Dave,’ said Fran, gently shaking her head, ‘no, Jane… she loves Riley. He’s her son and she loves him… she knows he’s not to blame for what Brandon did to her.’

  ‘No!’ he cried, stepping over Riley’s prone body. ‘He’s the last of him, don’t you see, we need to get rid of him so she can be free, so Jane can finally be free of Brandon and what he did.’

  ‘Dave,’ she repeated, glancing down and relieved to see the slow rise and fall of Riley’s chest. ‘Dave, what… what have you given him, what have you given Riley?’

  ‘More than he deserves,’ spat Dave, looking down at the boy he had called his son.

  ‘Dave?’ Fran prompted.

  ‘He even labelled it,’ Dave replied, pulling a bottle of milky liquid from his jacket. ‘Sleep of the Righteous,’ he read aloud, the chuckle bubbling across his lips edging him further into madness. ‘Very thoughtful of Brandon to label it, don’t you think. Anyway, that’s done with now,’ he continued, tossing the nearly full bottle aside as he dropped to knees again. ‘Time to finish this.’

  ‘No, Dave, please,’ begged Fran, knowing she had no hope of getting to Dave in time to save Riley.

  Yet even as she said the words she saw the muscles in Dave’s hand were tensing, tightening his grip on the knife in preparation.

  ‘Please,’ she managed to say once more before Dave sharply drew his hand back to plunge the knife into Riley’s chest.

  ‘No, Mr Dave!’ screamed Peter unexpectedly from behind her, the fear in his voice causing Dave suddenly to falter.

  It was the chance Fran had been praying for and as Dave looked at Peter, confusion shaking the conviction of his mania, she darted forward. Yet she was not the only one to be moving, not the only creature trying to save a young boy’s life and before she had barely taken two steps something sped past her, something low, fast moving and determined.