Sergeant Blackmore’s eyes flicked in her direction as she spoke and the rage was replaced by something else. Something, Alice found somehow equally disturbing but could not identify.
‘My men and I have been stationed on an island military facility since the initial days of the outbreak,’ he began. ‘There, with a collection of some of the most eminent scientists and doctors available to the Centre for Disease Control, our prime objective was to find a cure to what has been classified as the Death-walker plague.’
‘And have you?’ Sister Josephine asked, calmly.
‘A cure?’ the Sergeant said, looking at the expectant faces in the room. ‘Although Dr Farrell and his team have had a lot of breakthroughs in determining the properties of the Death-walker virus, its chemical and molecular make up and even how it works, they have been unable, as of yet, to develop any vaccine or antivirus to counter-act the Death-walker effects.’
The fleeting sense of hope some of the group had been feeling, evaporated with the Sergeant’s words. Many had given up on someone ever finding a way of eradicating the Dead completely from their lives, but to be told that, even after all this time the top brains were still fumbling blindly for answers, was still deflating to hear.
‘So, we might not have come to you with a cure,’ Sergeant Blackmore continued, ‘but we have come to offer you sanctuary. We have eradicated all the active Dead on the island and have even devised a way to ensure that we never have to deal with corpses reanimated by the Death-walker virus.’
Once again, hope bloomed for the group.
‘But I thought you said your scientist hadn’t found a way of stopping it?’ Sally asked, little Alex sitting quietly in her lap.
‘Private Fisher,’ Sergeant Blackmore said, clicking his fingers, ‘show them.’
Without saying a word, one of the soldiers who had been standing at the front of the room, stepped forward and began to unbutton his collar. Pulling the collar down to expose his muscular neck, the soldier turned so his back was facing them. Secured about his neck by a black band, was a small silver oblong box.
‘This,’ Sergeant Blackmore began, pointing to the box, ‘is how we ensure no one comes back. Attached to the back of the neck, the device monitors the wearer’s heartbeat via the electrical impulses conducted through the skin. Should, for any reason, the device cease to register any impulses for a period longer than two minutes, a micro charge housed within it will fire a single metal bolt upwards, through the base of the skull and into the brain, incapacitating the subject before the Dearth-walker virus can take full effect.’
‘So you walk around with basically a loaded gun at your head all the time?’ Richard asked.
‘The alternative is not acceptable,’ the Sergeant said matter-of-factly, ‘and I must tell you, there is no negotiation in this matter. Once you are on the island, you will wear one like everybody else, twenty-four-seven. Everyone is subject to this rule. There are no exceptions. Anyone caught breaking this rule will be dealt with appropriately.’
Alice didn’t like the sound of that ‘appropriately’ and wondered what sort of place this island sanctuary had turned into.
‘What about the children?’ Lars asked. ‘Many of them are too young to understand such a rule, surely?’
Sergeant Blackmore looked from the man who had spoken to the young children dotted among the group of Lanherne survivors.
‘Any child unable to comprehend the rule is given a similar device that fits about the wrist. This is linked to a partnered device given to a designated adult. Should the child’s device be removed or it fails to measure the heartbeat from the child, an alarm will sound on the adult’s wrist. The adult with then have the two minutes to reset the child’s wrist alarm or deal with the situation.’
‘What happens if the adult fails to do that?’ Lars continued, not really wanting to hear the answer.
Sergeant Blackmore looked directly at Lars, his eyes devoid of emotion.
‘As these wrist bands are only used by the very young, they have been installed with a larger explosive to eradicate the problem, totally, should it arise,’ he replied.
‘Jesus!’ Richard said under his breath.
Sally instinctively pulled Alex a little closer, subconsciously needing to protect the child.
‘But what if…’ Nicky began to say but was cut short by the Sergeant.
‘I assure you that after a while, you forget it’s even there. It becomes just part of your everyday life and it’s a very small price to pay for life of security, free from the Dead.’ Sergeant Blackmore continued brushing aside any further discussion on the subject. ‘Now, Sister Josephine has given us permission to stay here tonight before we leave tomorrow morning. While we are here, you will be put in the capable hands of Dr Morris and his team. He will be giving each of you a full health check and will want to find out a little more about you to help us determine how you are to fit into our little community. Please be frank and honest with him when he asks you for your details. We only have your interests and wellbeing in mind.’
With that, Sergeant Blackmore turned and began to walk out of the Refectory, the civilians already dismissed from his mind. As he reached the door, he was met by his son who had a printed report in his hand.
‘Yes, Private?’ He asked in the tone he used for all those he thought beneath him.
‘Message from HQ, Sir,’ Private Stephen Blackmore replied, saluting. ‘They require an immediate response and we only have a few minutes of the satellite window left, Sir.’
‘Very well,’ Sergeant Blackmore said, snatching the report from the Private’s hand.
As Sergeant Blackmore disappeared down the corridor, scanning his print out, Steve looked into the room to the collection of men, woman and children who unknowingly, had just been co-opted into Major Carden’s army. As his gaze moved from one worried expression to the next, he realised that despite there being a lot more young children here, this group was much like any other they found. Granted, these seemed a little better fed and were certainly cleaner but something was always in the eyes of those who had been forced to find a way to survive among the Dead that set them apart from the likes of himself and the men of his squadron. As his glance moved about the room, it fell upon the face of an attractive young woman with short blonde hair and the most amazing eyes. She was sitting next to a man whose hands that even from the doorway, Steve could tell were crippled by arthritis. Something about the mismatched pair itched at the back of his mind. He found something vaguely familiar about them both. It was then that the man turned his head toward Steve, returning his gaze. The man’s eyes slowly scanned Steve’s face questioningly, as if he was searching for something un-definable hidden among Steve’s stubble and cold weather blushed skin. Suddenly, the man’s eyes widened in realisation.
‘Steven Blackmore!’ The man shouted, standing up to point at Steve.
Steve’s jaw fell open in shock. He instantly recognised that voice, that pointing finger and that childhood fear that crept slowly up his spine.
‘It is Steven Blackmore, isn’t it?’ the man asked, smiling as he made a move forward.
Beside him, the pretty woman who had also risen to her feet, placed her hand on the man’s arm trying to pull him back down.
‘Lars?’ She asked, looking back and forth between the two men, unsure of what was happening.
‘Mr Sorenson,’ Steve managed to say with a chuckle, ‘I’m afraid I never finished that Geography project you set… something came up.’
Stunned, Penny let go of Lars’ arm as he rushed forward to shake Steve’s hand. Penny watched the soldier greet Lars with wide smiles and the enthusiasm of a long lost friend. All the while, his eyes kept flicking from Lars over to herself.
‘And do you remember Penny?’ Lars asked, excitedly leading Steve over to her. ‘No, of course you don’t. Penny was in the year above you, wasn’t she?’
‘Yes, yes of course, I remember Penny,’ Steve said, his eyes seeming to P
enny to drink in every detail of her face.
‘You don’t have to humour him,’ Penny said, nodding to Lars. ‘He’s not as dotty as he looks.’
‘I’m not…’ was all Steve could say, as he gazed intently at her.
Lars, looking from one ex-pupil to the next, was more than a little perplexed but then encountering someone you thought sure to be long dead would do that to you.
‘So, I take it Staff Sergeant Blackmore is your father then,’ Penny said, needing to escape Steven’s gaze but not really wanting to.
There was something enthralling but also a little unnerving about the way his eyes moved across her face, as if they savoured the experience; hungry for something only she could give. Penny was not used to men looking at her like that, especially not adult men. Sure, she had boyfriends all those years ago before the Dead came, but even then, they did not look upon her with the obvious fascination and want, that Steve did. This was not the teenage lust she had seen in the eyes of her boyfriends as they fumbled with her cardigan buttons in those brief teenage moments. She could tell Steve needed to touch her and even now, as she glanced down at his strong hands, he clenched his fists to stop them from reaching for her. It was only when she thought of his hands slowly moving forward, that she realised her own fists had clenched tightly, mirroring his restrained desire.
‘Sorry?’ Steve said, his voice sounding distant to himself.
‘Sergeant Blackmore, he’s your dad, right?’ Penny said softly, wondering to herself what it would be like to feel his strong arms about her, his lips on hers.
‘Oh, yes… yes he is,’ Steve replied, his smile dropping slightly. ‘Lucky old Staff Sergeant Blackmore was on the list and so by proxy, Mum and I got dragged along, like so much luggage to the base, with him.’
For the briefest of moments, Penny was sure she saw something akin to regret or shame hidden beneath his beautiful facade. Perhaps he felt guilty that he had been spared the horrors of the Dead.
‘That was lucky for you too?’ remarked Lars, shaking his head. ‘People have done some terrible things to each other out here, just to survive… terrible things.’
‘What? Yes, I suppose it was luck, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a brat. I know it must’ve been hell for you all out here,’ Steve replied.
Suddenly remembering there were other people in the room apart from Penny, Steve looked at the others nearby who had been watching their exchange and he blushed slightly.
‘Well, you’re here now, my boy,’ Lars chuckled, as he slapped Steve’s shoulder. ‘Better late than never.’
‘Believe me, we thought it would be never,’ said the smiling pregnant woman sitting next to a small girl. ‘I’m Alice, by the way,’ she continued, awkwardly turning her large body so she could reach her hand out for him to shake.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Steve replied, taking her small hand in his own. ‘When’s it due?’ he continued nodding to her belly.
‘Oh, not for another month or so yet,’ Alice smiled, her hand subconsciously stroking her unborn baby, ‘and now that you’re here, at least I’ll have a proper doctor to bring it into the world.’
Even though Alice, like everyone else, was wary of the new arrivals, she had to admit she also felt a sense of relief that her baby would be brought safely into the world with the aid of doctors and perhaps more importantly, pain killers.
‘Well, Doctor Morris will be…’ his words were cut short by the sound of rapid gunfire coming from outside .
‘What the fuck are they doing out there?’ Richard asked, standing up to walk over to one of the tall windows that overlooked the courtyard. ‘Don’t those idiots know they’ll attract the Dead for miles around with that racket?’
‘I think that’s the problem,’ Steve said. ‘We’ve had a steady flow of them drawn to the noise of our vehicles ever since we got on the mainland. Normally we just lose them at a turning but sounds like a large group have managed to follow us here.’
With a ‘beep’ from his earpiece, Steven Blackmore and the other four soldiers in the refectory were relayed orders.
‘Sorry, got to go,’ he said, jogging to the door.
Turning briefly at the doorway, Steve stole one last look at Penny and then throwing caution to the wind, he gave her a quick wink, before disappearing from view.
‘Shit!’ Richard said, while he watched the soldiers outside firing at the Dead from the Convent walkway, ‘We’ve survived here for over a year and a half and we finally get overrun thanks to the trigger happy noisy goons.’
‘But the gate’s still closed?’ Nicky nervously said, pulling Justin a little closer to her.
‘Yeah, at least they got that right,’ Richard finally said, moving away from the window. He had seen enough. ‘I don’t know about you lot, but I don’t feel any safer with the army here. I don’t know if we can trust them.’
‘They certainly are an unknown factor that we haven’t had to deal with so far,’ Lars began, ‘and I know we should be cautious, but if they can guarantee a life free of the Dead, surely we should take them up on their offer, even if it’s just for sake of the children.’
Outside, the shooting stopped as quickly as it had begun and a silence blanketed the room.
‘Where’s Lizzy, Sister Josephine?’ Anne whispered, a concerned look on her young face.
‘I thought it best if she stayed where she was… just in case,’ she replied cupping the small girl’s face in her hand.
‘So you don’t trust them either?’ Nadine asked, worrying her lip, as she began to pace back and forth.
‘There is something about Sergeant Blackmore that I don’t like. I can’t put my finger on it, but no, I don’t trust the man. So, until we really know the lay of the land, I suggest Liz stays in the attic and off their radar. We don’t want to show all our hands in one go,’ Sister Josephine replied, looking to the adults for assurance. ‘It’s just a pity they saw all the children, otherwise we could have hidden them too.’
‘Well, we’ll just have…’ Bryon began, but his words died on his lips, as a fidgety man in glasses busted into the refectory. He was followed closely on his heels by a group of men and woman. The armbands they wore over their army fatigues indicated they were part of the medical team.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ he began, his eyes flitting from one survivor to the next, instantly breaking them down into analytical groups of data to be processed. All the while, he never truly met any of their returned stares. ‘My name is Doctor Morris and I hope you’ll bear with us as my team and I spend the next few hours getting to know you.’
Doctor Morris was quite a short man in his late forties with thinning grey hair and ill-fitting glasses, which seemed to be forever trying to escape their perch on his nose. At the moment his slight frame was comically exaggerated by the baggy army fatigue inform he was forced to wear. Obviously, whoever requisitioned supplies for the base hadn’t taken into account they would have to cater to people whose proportions were not that of the usual solider. As Alice watched the Doctor walk briskly about the room, dispatching various members of his staff to different members of the Lanherne community, she could tell he wasn’t comfortable wearing the uniform. Not only did it not fit him at all but also his hand nervously kept returning to a pocket that wasn’t here; the ghost of the lab coat he was used to wearing, she presumed. As he came to a stop in front of her, she noticed that he also had the habit of rapidly touching each of his fingers on his left hand in turn to his thumb. Although probably just a subconscious movement, it did little to instil a confident bedside manner.
‘Hello… and you are?’ Dr Morris, asked looking from Alice to Anne and then back to Alice again.
‘I’m Alice and this is Anne,’ she replied, her hand slowly moving to hold Anne in place.
‘Chambers,’ he called over to one of the female doctors who were checking over the other children, ‘would you take Anne for a moment please?’
‘I’m not a baby,’ Anne said, �
�you can just tell me to go to her, you know.’
Dr Morris raised his eyebrows, startled by the young girl’s forwardness.
‘Come along, Anne,’ Dr Chambers said smiling, as she held out her hand and led her over to the other children who had each already been paired off with a member of the medical team.
‘Start general checks,’ he called over to his colleague, Anne’s presence already dismissed. ‘Then I want blood work and initial psych reports by the morning. You know the drill.’
‘Yes, Doctor Morris,’ Chambers replied with a nod.
‘Now,’ Dr Morris said, going down on one knee, as he fiddled to put his stethoscope in his ears, ‘looks like we came just at the right time for you, Alice.’
Placing one hand gently on her stomach, he slowly laid the circular disk against her to listen to her baby’s heartbeat. After a few seconds of counting, he looked up at Alice.
‘Nice and healthy rhythm,’ he said, smiling.
***
‘Well?’ Sergeant Graham Blackmore asked, looking up from skimming through Dr Morris’ initial breakdown of the civilians.
Sister Josephine had offered him the use of her old office and sparse as it was, at least he was out of the drizzling sleet that had persisted for most of the day. Outside, what little sun light there had been that day, began to dip over the horizon, turning the Convent in a maze of shadow.
‘Four of the men and two of the woman are viable. There are possibly two more of the women, if you feel we need the manpower. One’s above our ideal age bracket but she’s verging on savant with regards to memory and the other is a bit younger but sterile,’ Dr Morris began, flicking through his notes, ‘erm…all the children are good, apart from the one they call Danny. He appears to be quite high on the autism scale but that could just be trauma.’
‘Worth the risk?’ Blackmore asked, leaning back in his chair, as he studied the pitiful and jittery excuse for a man in front of him.
‘No, we don’t want to have to deal with that sort of thing later down the line,’ Dr Morris replied, trying to politely phrase what he was about to say. ‘It may cause bad feeling later should the child have to be… removed.’
Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) Page 11