Journal of the Living

by John Moralee

  I could hear more explosions and gunfire outside – which made me think being locked in a room with stone walls had probably saved my life. I could hear bullets thudding into the walls. One broke through the window and ripped a chunk out of the wall opposite. The building shook with another explosion.

  Few groups had military weapons. It had to be the Pure Bloods attacking. It looked like Neal had told them where to find the gang in exchange for treating Angela. Good for him! I hoped they were both alive. Then I worried about myself. I wouldn’t be alive for much longer if I stayed in the church with the Pure Bloods blasting it. There were two exits – the door and the window. The door had been locked from the other side by Billy. I did not have the strength to break it down. That left the window – which was a suicidal exit as long as people were shooting. Hell – I was safer hiding in the church as long as none of Quinn’s gang opened the door – but what if Billy came back? He’d kill me.

  Weak from the torture, I struggled to stand up with the weight of the chains fastened to my wrists. My entire body was weak from blood loss and the bruising caused by Billy’s beating. I ached in every muscle – even when I blinked. Grunting in pain, I shuffled to the upturned wheelchair, got it back on its wheels, then slumped into it with the chains on my lap. Never before had I been so glad to sit down and rest. I figured I could hide close to the door and lash out with the chain if anyone burst in. They’d never expect me to be free and mobile. I sat recovering my strength as a battle raged in the village – listening to gunfire for what felt like days. Twice more the church shook from explosions, with more debris tumbling down from the roof.

  A key rattled the door. This was it. Billy was coming back.

  I raised the chain and readied myself to swing it.

  The door opened.

  ENTRY TWENTY-ONE

  I was ready to swing the chain when Billy entered the room – but Billy didn’t wear a turban and look seventy-years-old. It was Doctor Mohinder Singh. He was peering into the dark room, clutching some sort of club as a weapon – a part of a chair leg.

  “Ben?” he whispered. “Are you still alive? Ben?”

  I showed myself. “Yeah, Doc. I’m okay.”

  He looked startled to see me alive – but also relieved. “It is good see you see, my friend. That monster Billy was telling his friends how he’d locked you in with a zombie. How did you get free and where is the infernal zombie?”

  “The zombie’s head’s over there. I managed to kick it off when I was swinging from up there. Then the roof came down when the Pure Bloods started attacking.”

  “Ah! So that’s what’s going on! The Pure Bloods? I had no idea. Things exploded and everyone started shooting. It’s complete chaos around here. I heard a helicopter and saw some soldiers in the woods. About ten minutes ago Quinn was shot by a sniper. I was forced to treat him – but he died of blood loss. His men were so busy fighting for their lives I stole his keys and slipped away unnoticed. I came to free you so we can escape before anyone realised Quinn’s dead and starts looking for me. We must get moving now.”

  Quinn’s death was the first good news I’d heard since my imprisonment. “I can’t move with these chains on me, Doc.”

  “Do not worry. I shall free you.” Doctor Singh stepped into the room and closed the door while he unlocked the padlock. I rubbed my wrists and sighed. I tried standing – but my legs wobbled and the pain of my injuries tripled. “Don’t suppose you got something for the pain, Doc?”

  “I do.” Mohinder had brought in a black medical bag. It was filled with medicines. “Take these with this.”

  Mohinder handed me four codeine pills and an unopened bottle of Highland Spring mineral water, which had been one of the things I’d found before the gang had stolen my supplies. The cool water eased my parched throat. It was hard swallowing the pills – but they went down after almost choking. I drank half a litre of water and gasped with satisfaction. I was feeling better already. Mohinder told me the painkillers would take effect in about twenty minutes.

  “Thank you.” I looked at the door. “Can we get out through the main exit?”

  “No – a few of Quinn’s men are inside, shooting out the doors and windows at the attackers. We’ll have to get out through that window.”

  “Okay. Better lock the door so nobody can follow us.”

  The doctor’s hands were shaking as he locked the door. “That wheelchair will never fit through the window. Can you walk, Ben?”

  “Guess I’ll have to.” After the beating I’d taken, I was light-headed and unsteady on my feet, but at least I was no longer chained. Speaking of which, I saw Mohinder’s legs were unshackled. “You freed yourself?”

  “Yes, my friend. Fortunately, Quinn carried the key on him. He was also carrying every key to the village – including the one to get my granddaughter free.” He jangled a large bunch of keys, grinning. “We can free Leela!”

  Leela. I’d almost forgotten about her. Mohinder’s granddaughter. We’d have to save her, too. And the other girls imprisoned by the gang. “Okay – Mohinder – we need a plan. You have to tell me what to expect out there before we leave.”

  “That way leads to the back of the cemetery. There are some trees for cover and tall gravestones.”

  “That’s good. Anything else?”

  “Yes. The gang keep the female prisoners locked in the cellar of a pub down the lane. The Black Bull. The cellar is always guarded. That is where we must go to free Leela.”

  “How many guards?”

  “At least two. They have guns.”

  “We’ll need a better weapon than a chair leg and this chain then.”

  “Agreed, my friend. Agreed!”

  The painkillers were kicking in with a warm fuzzy feeling as I hobbled to the window and peered out. There were several old graves fairly close shaded by an oak tree near the church’s wall. The gravestones were big ones made of thick granite. If we could slip out unnoticed, we could use the gravestones as shields against the bullets flying around. First we had to get through the window. It had been broken in three places by bullets – but I needed to knock more glass out with the chair leg. I did it as quietly as possible so I didn’t attract the attention of the Pure Bloods or the gang, wherever they were. The glass fell onto the grass outside, making little noise. My pain was just a dullness at the back of my skull when I was ready to go. Afraid someone would see me as soon as I climbed outside, I moved quickly, hauling my sore body over the windowsill. It would be game over for me if a sniper spotted me half in and out of the window – but I was still weak and got stuck. It was hellishly bright outside, the sunlight stinging my dark-adapted eyes. Mohinder pushed me out and I flopped onto the grass. I was out in the open – visible to anyone looking. I was amazed nobody shot at me. A good sign. I crawled over to a hiding place behind a lichen-covered gravestone. My body sweated and ached from the effort. I rested a minute and studied the area. The cemetery went down a hill to the lane. The church was not far from the pub – but it looked like a shooting alley between here and there. Quinn’s gang were taking cover behind the thatched cottages and old stone walls. Some of them were shooting into the surrounding woods where the Pure Bloods were positioned. A Pure Blood soldier was calling out on a megaphone.

  “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER!”

  He repeated the message over and over.

  No bikers were listening. They knew they’d get injected with the necrovitalis virus and very likely turn into zombies if the Pure Bloods got them. They were firing back with everything they had. They had guns and a few rifles and molotov cocktails that landed well short of the enemy. The Pure Bloods had automatic weapons capable of taking out their enemies from a long distance. It was not an even fight because I could see the Pure Bloods had a black helicopter circling over the village, spying on the enemy, with an armour-protected sniper leaning out, shooting down with deadly accuracy. A biker running from building to building had his head explode
with one powerful sniper bullet. Horrified, I watched as something streaked from the woods into a cottage where some gang members were hiding. A second later the cottage exploded. Parts of the thatched roof spun into the air on fire. What was that? An RPG? Dark smoke billowed over the village, drifting as far as the river. Some bikers were trying to escape on their vehicles along the road where they had ambushed me – but the helicopter’s sniper was coolly picking them off one by one. I nearly felt sorry for the bikers. It wasn’t a fair fight. Closer to me, all the shooting seemed concentrated on the other side of the church. I thanked God nobody was wasting ammo shooting at me.

  Mohinder was peeking out the church window. “Ben? Can I come out?”

  “Doc, it’s clear for now. Just be quick and get down as soon as you’re out. The Pure Bloods have got that helicopter about a mile away right now – so move quickly before it sweeps back. The guy won’t miss you if he spots you.”

  Mohinder appeared at the window and climbed up onto the windowsill painfully slowly. I was sure he would get shot – but he didn’t. He jumped to the ground and rolled towards me. He stayed low and joined me hiding among the gravestones. We were both breathing hard. Mohinder wiped sweat from his forehead. “We must get to my granddaughter now.”

  That was not going to be easy.

  There was no natural cover between the cemetery and the pub.

  Just then another RPG shot out of the woods.

  It struck the pub a direct hit.

  And exploded.

  ENTRY TWENTY-TWO

  The explosion set the pub on fire, spewing black smoke from the broken windows, leaving me in no doubt everyone inside had been killed by the blast. The shock froze me – but it didn’t freeze Mohinder. Instead of staying hidden among the gravestones, he jumped up and cried out in grief for his lost granddaughter. He was wailing and calling attention to himself in the most dangerous way. I grabbed him and pulled him down – but he shook me off and staggered away, moaning, his eyes fixated on the burning building where the gang had been keeping Leela locked up. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Get down! Someone will shoot you!”

  He wasn’t listening. He was no longer rational. Something had snapped inside him. The only thing keeping him sane had been the thought of saving his granddaughter. Her death had destroyed him. He stumbled down the hill like a drunk, shouting his granddaughter’s name. “Leela! Leela! Leeeee-laaa!”

  I chased after him, keeping my head below the level of the gravestones, hoping nobody would bother to shoot an old man. I was prepared to rugby tackle him to the ground and knock him out if necessary – but then I heard gunfire to my right. A biker was shooting into the woods. He wasn’t aiming at me – but the biker was between me and the woods. When the Pure Bloods shot back at the biker, stray bullets slammed into the graves around me like bouncing ball bearings. Ricocheting hot metal zinged past my head, nicking my cheek. I had to dive for cover behind an oak tree and hide for ten seconds – by which time Mohinder was too far away. He was in the No Man’s Land between the cemetery and the pub. An easy target.

  I watched as bullets whizzed by him, but they all missed. It seemed as if the bullets were avoiding him as he stumbled down the lane, calling for his granddaughter. I really believed he was going to reach the pub without a scratch – but then the helicopter flew over and a single shot from the sniper struck Mohinder’s turban with such force that his head burst apart. His headless body fell over, spraying blood on the road.

  I could not believe my eyes.

  Mohinder was dead.

  I felt like screaming – but that would call attention to my location. Instead I turned my anger inwards and gritted my teeth. The helicopter zoomed overhead and continued circling the village, shooting at the bikers, while I struggled to deal with my friend’s death. I had not known Mohinder very long – but seeing him die like hurt more than my physical wounds. I hated the sniper in the helicopter. I wanted to rip him apart with my hands.

  I forced myself to calm down. I knew I’d die too if I did not hide somewhere better – but I could not leave the graveyard. Could I hide among the graves? Maybe from the men on the ground – but I could be easily spotted from above. I was safer under the tree. There was a mound of dry brown leaves at the base of the trunk – so I got an idea. I dug down with my bare hands into the soft earth to make a shallow grave for myself to lie in. Then I covered myself with dirt and leaves until the only part of me visible was my nose.

  I hid there motionless for hours until the fighting ended. Night came. The Pure Bloods were still in the village when I dared to look around – but their helicopter had flown away. They were in squads going house to house. An occasional gunshot told me they were mopping up any of the bikers they found alive. I could hear some men begging for mercy – but they were shot. One squad was going through the graveyard, searching each row. I didn’t feel safe where I was. What if someone searched around the tree? They’d probably see the mound where I was hiding. I was tempted to sneak into the woods – but some instinct told me to stay where I was. It turned out to be the right one because I spotted some men with rifles on the edge of the village. They would have picked me off if I had moved.

  After a few long hours the Pure Bloods retreated – but I did not move for another hour. I emerged only when I was certain they had all gone. It was just after dawn when I stood up and looked around. The dead bodies of over thirty bikers were burning in the centre of the village on a funeral pyre that smelled like roasting pork. I walked down the lane expecting to see my friend’s body there – but I could see a trail where he had been dragged off. His body was among the burning corpses. I felt sick.

  I wanted to leave the village then – but first I needed to get myself some new clothes. I stripped a leather jacket off a dead guy I found smouldering on the pyre. His Gortex boots were good, too. I found some other clothes on some other dead bikers before they burned. I guessed I looked like Mad Max when I was dressed again. It was time to leave the village after that.

  On my way out, I stopped to check out the damage to the pub, figuring I owed Mohinder something for saving me even after he had died. I had to make sure his granddaughter was dead for my own peace of mind. The pub smelled like a bad barbecue inside. There were two smoking charcoal bodies on the floor with guns beside their blackened hands. One gun was completely ruined by the fire – but the other one looked all right. It was an old revolver with four bullets in the chambers. Not bad. My luck was turning. I stepped behind the counter to see if some beers had survived. The heat had burst most of the bottles and cans – but I found a Sprite and a ginger beer intact. The Sprite was warm – but it quenched my thirst. I saved the ginger beer for later. There was a charred door leading to the cellar. I had the key for it – so I unlocked it. A steep stairway went down into darkness. The brick walls didn’t look smoke-damaged.

  “Hey! Anyone alive down there?”

  No answer.

  That was expected. Based on the information Mohinder had told me, the gang had imprisoned a group of young women down there. If any of them had not perished in the explosion and the fire, it was the smart thing to do to stay quiet when they heard a male voice because they would assume I was one of the gang. I would have to go down into the cellar to check it out – but it was so dark down there I needed some light. I found a piece of wood and wrapped some cloth around it – then I set it on fire at the pyre and returned to the pub. My torch lit up the stairway with flickering light as I descended. At the bottom I could see a long passage. There were about a dozen half-naked young women chained to the wall. The first one was dead. The second one was too. They had succumbed to the smoke, suffocating to death. I checked the others. They were dead – but at the far end of the passage I heard breathing. The passage opened into a larger room where there were some more women. They were also chained up – but they were closer to a vent in the wall, which must have provided some fresh air. There were four survivors. One whimpered when she saw me.r />
  “Hey – don’t be frightened. I’m not one of the gang. They’re all dead. I’m just wearing some of their clothes.” I knew that sounded weird, like I was some kind of ghoulish thief. Unsurprisingly, my words did not calm any of them down. “Look, I’ve got the keys to let you free. See?”

  I set the torch down and freed the first woman. She was coughing and terrified when she rubbed her wrists. The only thing she was wearing was a ragged dirty T-shirt. Her arms and legs were marked with bruises. She cowered away from me. “I … can … go?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But -”

  I had been going to say she was better off staying there with the others – but she jumped up and dashed for the stairs. I let her go. That left me with the other three survivors. I unlocked the second prisoner, who was a black-haired teenager wearing a sari. Since she was the only girl wearing Indian clothing, I hoped she was Mohinder’s granddaughter. “Are you Leela?”

  “Yes,” she said. There was suspicion in her eyes. “H-how do you know my name? Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Your grandfather Mohinder helped me escape from the gang. My name’s Ben. Ben Smith. I’ve come to rescue you.”

  “Rescue me?” I saw a flash of hope. “Where is he? Where’s my granddad?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you he’s dead.”

  “Dead? No. He can’t be dead.”

  “I’m sorry. He is. He died in the attack. It was quick. He didn’t feel any pain.”

  “We heard explosions. What happened up there?”

  “An RPG hit the pub.”

  “What’s an RPG?”

  “A rocket-propelled grenade.”

  The girl nodded. “Did it kill the scum upstairs?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  After Leela was freed she looked longingly towards the exit – but she didn’t leave. She waited for me to unlock the other two prisoners. One was a tall fair-haired young women in his mid-twenties called Kim from Australia. The other woman was a little older with short blonde hair streaked with blood. She had been beaten recently. Her eyes were haunted by the bad things that had happened to her. She didn’t tell me her name. She just ran away as soon as I had released her.