Lanherne Chronicles (Book 3): Last Days With The Dead
Page 6
Lissa silently followed Liz from the room, obviously having difficulty in swallowing her pride.
‘Lu!’ she snapped, hurrying her daughter along who looked reluctant to leave the sick baby.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Liz, giving the girl a reassuring smile, ‘Dr Avery will do all he can for your brother.’
‘Thank you,’ was all Lucy could mumble, as Liz led her and her mother to the bathroom for a long needed wash.
***
Half an hour later, the freshly scrubbed and cleanly dressed mother and daughter sat at one of the long tables in the Refectory, watching Nadine and Jen control the small group of children.
‘I’ll just see what sister Rebecca has ready,’ said Liz, as she dodged past little Jimmy who was doing his best to avoid being caught by Jen, ‘won’t be a sec.’
‘It’s not always this rowdy,’ Jen smiled at the two newcomers, as she grabbed hold of the laughing wriggling boy. ‘Hi, my name’s Jen, pleased to meet you.’
Lissa looked at Jen’s extended hand for a second before reaching across the table to shake it.
‘Lissa,’ she replied, with a bob of her head, ‘and this is my daughter, Lucy.’
‘You have a lot of children here,’ Lissa said, looking from the giggling boy in Jen’s arms over to the other healthy looking children in the corner, ‘you’ve been very lucky.’
‘Yes,’ replied Jen, feeling a sudden pang of guilt that their lives at Lanherne were so much easier than many.
At that moment, Liz returned holding a tray a steaming food. Closely behind her came Patrick and Helen, who was carrying an irritated Jasmine in her arms. Crouching down, Helen released Jasmine and the toddler immediately made an awkward stumbling bee-line for the other children in the room.
‘Play nice,’ Helen called after her daughter, as Jasmine moved to pull a small blue stuffed elephant that lay unnoticed in Danny’s lap.
‘Hello, I’m Patrick, and this is my wife, Helen,’ Patrick began, while Liz placed the tray of food down in front of Lissa and her daughter. ‘Phil and Liz tell me you’ve taken over the old school.’
‘Yes,’ Lissa replied, greedily spooning some of the hot soup into her mouth, ‘not treading on anyone’s toes are we, it looked abandoned.’
‘God, no, don’t worry,’ Helen said stepping in, ‘we’re happy someone’s getting some use out of it. We’re just worried that on your own, it might not be safe in the village and…’
‘We can take care of ourselves,’ Lissa interrupted, a little too abruptly. ‘I came here to help sort out the baby, nothing more, okay?’
‘Of course,’ said Patrick, smiling as he calmly sat down on the bench next to Lissa, ‘just putting the offer out there, that’s all, just so you know it’s there.’
Lissa gave Patrick a sideways glance, popped a chunk of bread in her mouth, chewed, and looked over to Helen.
‘Bet he thinks that pretty smile of his is enough to win anyone over,’ she said gruffly, nodding towards Patrick.
‘Something like that,’ Helen replied, supressing a smile.
‘Oh, there you are. Sorry, Patrick,’ called Leon, sticking his head through the Refectory doorway. ‘Phil wants to see you, says its semi- urgent, you too, Liz.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Patrick, standing up and turning back to Lissa. ‘Well, I’m sure Helen or someone will sort you out a room for the night.’
‘Yes, Patrick,’ Helen added, waving away her husband, ‘it’s all in hand. Go and see what Phil needs you for.’
With a final smile to Lissa and her daughter, Patrick left the Refectory and went to find Phil, to find out what new problem had arisen. He eventually found him with Avery who was bathing the sick child with cold water.
‘So what’s up?’ Patrick asked, walking into Avery’s small infirmary. ‘The little chap hasn’t taken a turn for the worst I hope.’
Avery looked up from the baby boy in his arms, a concerned look on his face.
‘She’s lying to us,’ said Phil, standing by the window with his arms crossed.
‘What do you mean?’ Patrick asked, glancing behind as Liz caught up with him.
‘Lissa,’ said Avery, ‘she’s lying to us about the baby. He isn’t hers.’
‘What?’ Patrick and Liz said in unison.
‘Sorry, what do you mean he’s not hers,’ Patrick continued, stepping further into the room to look down on the sick child, ‘how on earth can you know that?’
‘He’s Lucy’s baby,’ Avery replied with a sigh, ‘when she knelt down to hold his hand, her jacket fell open and I saw wet patches over chest.’
‘I don’t understand?’ said Patrick, shaking his head. ‘How does that make him hers?’
‘She’s expressing milk isn’t she,’ Liz said, as the realisation of what Avery had seen suddenly hit her.
‘But she’s only twelve,’ said Patrick, sitting down on the side of the bed. ‘God, she’s still a child herself, what sort of man would…’
‘I don’t think it’s Lucy we need to worry about,’ interrupted Phil. ‘Why did Lissa lie about the boy being hers? That’s what we should be thinking about.’
‘Pride, shame, to save Lucy from prying questions,’ Avery suggested looking from Patrick to Phil. ‘Come on, this sort of thing happened before the Dead came and admittedly she’s younger than you’d expect, but she’s not the first teenager to get pregnant.’
‘But at twelve?’ said Patrick, the sympathy and astonishment obvious in his words.
‘She may have been raped,’ Liz suggested sadly, ‘if they’ve been traveling the countryside, who knows what sort of people they came across. It would explain why Lissa’s so keen to get back to the school.’
‘Once bitten, twice shy?’ suggested Avery.
‘The thing is, what do we do now?’ Phil asked, deferring to Patrick to make the decision.
Patrick looked down at the small baby boy and considered their options. As usual, his hand automatically rose to his face to stroke the scar that ran from just above his right eye and down the side of his cheek.
‘We say nothing,’ he finally said, once he had made up his mind. ‘If we can show her the sort of people we are, and that her family have no reason to fear us, hopefully, Lissa will trust us with the truth eventually.’
‘I agree,’ added Liz, ‘we need to take this slowly, and now that we know they’re staying at the school, we can keep an eye on them and hopefully win Lissa’s trust bit by bit.’
Even as she said the words, there was still that niggling doubt that Lissa, her daughter, and now her grandson, had been the only new inhabitants at the school. Just who Lissa had left behind was a mystery, and just one more secret Liz hoped Lissa would trust them with soon.
***
‘I’m sure all this is a bit much to deal with right now, all these people,’ Helen said, noticing Lissa’s eyes flicking rapidly from one face in the Refectory to the next. ‘If you prefer, I can show you to your room now?’
Since Patrick and Liz had gone to talk to Phil, nearly every member of Lanherne had come up with one excuse or another, in order to come to the Refectory and check out the two new arrivals. As the evening meal was only a short while away, and most chores had already been done for the day, many had stayed to either help those on kitchen duty with preparation, or to just generally try to make the new arrivals feel welcome.
‘Didn’t he used to be on telly?’ Lissa had asked, when her gaze fell on Cam.
‘Cam?’ Helen had asked, looking over her shoulder to the only man Lissa could be referring to. ‘Yes, he used to be a news reporter for the BBC.’
Receiving nothing more than a nod from Lissa for this information, Helen turned her attention to Lucy, hoping the child would be more amenable.
‘I’m afraid most of the children here are a quite a bit younger than you, although Justin is only a year or two off your age,’ Helen said to Lucy, nodding over to Justin who was sitting with Steve, the soldier who had joined Lanherne at the same
time as Jen and Avery.
Lucy’s eyes flitted over Justin, almost dismissively, and quickly settled on the figure of Alice, who was walking towards their table carrying a crying Charlie in her arms.
‘Hello,’ she said, smiling at Lissa and Lucy, as she rocked Charlie back and forth, ‘welcome to Lanherne. I’m Alice, and this bundle of joy here, is Charlie.’
As with everyone who had come to say hello, Lissa simply nodded her greeting to Alice, but Lucy pushed herself off the bench to see the infant in Alice’s arms and smiled.
‘He’s a beautiful baby,’ she said, taking his small hand in hers while she glanced up at Alice, ‘how old is he?’
‘Well, he looks better when his little face isn’t all scrunched up like that,’ replied Alice, returning the young girl’s smile, ‘and he’s almost seven months old now.’
‘Seven months?’ Lucy said, her eyes taking in every detail of the little boy. ‘He’s so big, much bigger than…’
‘Now, let the babe be,’ Lissa said, calling her daughter back to her, ‘he won’t want strangers fussing over him if he’s feeling cranky.’
‘No it’s fine…’ Alice began, but Lucy had already darted back to sit by her mother, the smile instantly vanishing from his lips.
‘You know, if you don’t mind, I think we would like to go to our room,’ Lissa said, standing up, ‘as long as we’re not putting anyone out, mind.’
‘No, of course not,’ Helen replied, rising to her feet. ‘We’ve plenty of room.’
‘Look, Helen, you stay, dinner should be ready soon,’ Alice interrupted, ‘and I’m going to try to put him down for a nap now anyway, so I might as well show Lissa and Lucy the way.’
‘Oh, you’re sure? Thanks,’ Helen replied, noticing Jasmine was having quite a one sided tug of war with Samantha over a faded looking teddy bear. ‘Jasmine… ’
Helen darted over to rescue the unfortunate bear, before one of the squabbling children let go and inadvertently sent the other flying backwards to crack their skull open.
‘Come on,’ Alice smiled, ‘let’s get you out of this madness.’
As Alice led them out of the Refectory, they bumped into Sister Rebecca hurrying along with a jar of preserved peaches from the stores.
‘Hello Alice… oh dear, someone doesn’t sound happy,’ she said brushing her finger along the side of Charlie’s face.
‘I’m putting him down for a nap, hopefully, he’ll sleep right through tonight,’ replied Alice. ‘Oh, Sister Rebecca, this is Lissa and Lucy. They’re staying at the school at the moment.’
‘Oh, yes, Avery told me about your sick baby,’ the Nun said, sympathetically. ‘I’ll say a prayer for him later.’
‘I think we’ll be fine with Dr Avery,’ Lissa replied, rather snappishly.
‘Well, it can’t hurt.’ Sister Rebecca added, sadly knowing that since the Dead had come to plague mankind, not everyone was happy with the idea of relying on God’s mercy to help them.
‘If you say so, Sister,’ continued Lissa, visibly annoyed at the Nun’s efforts to offer some form of spiritual solace.
‘Well, I’ll show you to your room,’ said Alice, breaking the awkward silence that had suddenly arisen.
As Alice walked past Sister Rebecca, she smiled and briefly gave the old woman’s arm a gentle squeeze in reassurance.
‘Well, welcome to our home, anyway,’ Sister Rebecca said to Lissa, who had turned to look back at her as she passed.
In the instant Lissa’s eyes met hers, Sister Rebecca was struck with the strangest feeling that she had met the woman before. There was something about those eyes that seemed familiar, and even the way the woman held her head as she turned to go, added to the nagging sense that she should know this woman. As Sister Rebecca slowly turned to walk back to the kitchen, her mind was filled with the hazy countless faces she had known over the years.
‘Darn, this old memory of mine,’ she mumbled to herself, as she re-entered the kitchen, ‘where do I know her from?’
***
In their sleeping cell, Lissa and her daughter sat in silence as their room slowly became shrouded in darkening shadow. Outside, the sun was finally dipping beyond the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with a riot of oranges and deep smoky reds, while a chorus of bird song bid farewell to another day. Lucy looked at her mother rummaging through the large purple shoulder bag and pushed herself up from her cot. Walking over to look up at the small window set high in the grey stonewall, she turned back to her mother.
‘How much longer?’ she asked, her hand moving to her small aching breasts. ‘I want the baby.’
Looking from the battered watch on her wrist to the darkening sky outside, Lissa counted out the hours on her fingers.
‘Four hours, perhaps five,’ she replied, ‘…depends. You might as well try to get some sleep, girl. You’ll be no good to the babe if you’re too tired.’
With an irritated sigh, Lucy dropped herself back down onto the cot and watched her mother pull from her bag, the small black box that would even up a score and save the lives of those they loved.
‘You ready to do this girl?’ Lissa asked, looking up from the small box she held in her hands.
‘It’s nothing they don’t deserve,’ she replied, repositioning herself so she didn’t lay on her tender chest, ‘they thought they could get away with killing Uncle Hugh, we’ll show them.’
‘That’s my girl,’ said Lissa with a proud smile, as she flipped open the lid of the small box to reveal the tiny keyboard and digital display inside.
Holding the box up to catch the last remnants of light coming through the window, Lissa carefully punched in the memorised code that would activate the device. When the letters ‘E.T.A?’ began to scroll across the small screen, she breathed a sigh of relief. They had kept their word after all. They would be waiting for them just beyond the wall, just like they had promised. Then with precise movements, Lissa typed her three word reply. With one last look over to her daughter, Lissa pressed the small ‘enter’ button and waited. There was no going back now, and as Lissa watched the message ‘… MIDNIGHT- SIDE- GATE… ’ scroll across the screen, followed seconds later by the reply ‘…RECEIVED-WILL-AWAIT-SIGNAL,’ she smiled.
***
An hour earlier, Karen discretely stole a glance up at the clock on the wall to the far right of her station, hoping her shift was almost at an end.
‘Damn,’ She mumbled to herself, noticing the hands had barely moved at all since the last time she had looked.
Barbara was due to cover her station in the communications centre at six, still a full seven minutes away. It wasn’t as if she even expected Barbara to be late, no-one was ever late, not here, but since passing to her superior the most recent INTEL for Captain Cardin, Karen couldn’t wait for her shift to be over. For the tenth time in as many minutes, Karen automatically went through her usual checks and procedures. As to be expected, Radar showed nothing bigger than a seagull approaching them by air, and after switching a few relays, she established the sonar readings showed similar activity beneath the waves as well. Then with almost resigned futility, Karen repositioned her mic and earpiece and began to work her way down through the list. It was automatic now, she had no need to read the names, frequency or ensign codes, and she had absorbed the information by rote, months ago.
‘Delta-Beta-three-one-four- this is Command- do you copy- over,’ she said, repeating it three times with a pause between each call for their response. When as usual, no answer was received, Karen moved onto the next location and then the next. All that greeted her was silence. She had cried out into the darkness again and again, the darkness had stolen away her words. But she didn’t care, as it had long since stolen her hope.
‘Alpha-Gamma-Sept-Neuf-Deux- ce n’est Commandemant Britannique- Vous me recevez- over,’ she repeated lastly in French.
It had been three years since they had received anything from a French military compound on the Ile de Molene, but orders were orders,
and until she was told otherwise, she would continue to try to contact them. The base had been swiftly erected to act as bolt hole when the Death-walker plague had first struck. When it had become clear this was a battle humanity stood little chance of winning, what was left of the French Government and army had taken up residence, sealing themselves off from the mainland and the very people they were meant to serve.
With little surprise, Karen’s calls to the French base were met with the usual static. Apparently, there had been over four hundred personnel on the base, just what had happened to them, she could only guess, but it was a pretty good guess, and she knew it wouldn’t have ended happily for the four hundred souls on Ile de Molene.
‘Anything?’ said a voice behind her, as a hand touched her shoulder.
‘Jesus, Barbara,’ Karen said, pulling her mic and earpiece from her head, ‘you made me jump.’
‘Sorry, Kaz,’ the woman replied, with an apologetic smile, ‘anything?’
Karen looked up at the middle-aged woman who was one of the few people she considered a friend. Barbara was tall, with piercing blue eyes, and had an unruly head of blonde hair that always seemed to be trying to escape her bun to fall in strands over her shoulders. Karen, in contrast, was slim, short, and had grown up over the last eight years under the watchful rule of regulation and discipline. So her dark hair was never seen free of the single tight braid she wore.
‘Same old same old,’ Karen replied, standing away from her chair to stretch the taught muscles in her back, ‘and now it’s all yours.’
‘Thanks,’ said Barbara, rolling her eyes as she took the mic and earpiece that Karen had hooked over her finger.
‘Okay, well, I‘ll see you later,’ Karen replied, forcing her lips into a smile, as she turned to leave the Comms room.
Normally, she would stay a few minutes to pass the time of day with Barbara, or arrange a time when they could meet up for a chat over a few cups of what passed for coffee these days, but today, something twisted and knotted in her stomach. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible, she had information to pass on, and the recipient would be leaving for their own shift in ten minutes.