Lanherne Chronicles (Book 3): Last Days With The Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  ‘Thanks…’ she began to say.

  ‘Just move!’ Liz interrupted, pushing the woman into action.

  The two women ran side by side, as they sprinted to the wall, Liz’s blade occasionally swiping out at and removing any decaying limb that happened to come too close. Jumping over the putrid evidence of Leon’s morning, Liz grabbed hold of the base of the rope ladder to steady it.

  ‘Climb!’ she snapped, waving the woman up, while watching the remaining Dead slowly approach the wall.

  Within seconds, the woman was up the ladder and being helped over the wall by Leon and Rich, and with one last look back at the moaning corpses to make sure none would be close enough to take a chunk out of her calf as she herself ascended, Liz followed her.

  Climbing over the lip of the wall, Liz was pleased to see Rich had a gun trained on the young woman who was leaning over, gasping for breath.

  ‘Hi,’ the woman panted, pushing strands of damp hair away from her face to look up at Liz, ‘you, you must be, Liz.’

  ‘Yes,’ Liz replied, her blade held low but ready, ‘and who the fuck are you?’

  ‘I’m Karen,’ the woman wheezed, finally standing upright with her hand pressed against the stitch in her side, ‘Matt’s sister, he told you about me, right?’

  ‘Erm, yeah,’ said Liz, her eyes flicking a warning to Rich not to let his guard down just yet, ‘yes, he told us about you, but?’

  ‘A woman from the Donaldson family, Mary, Mary Donaldson, she’s taken a baby hasn’t she,’ Karen continued, ‘and if what Matt told me about Lanherne is true, you’ve probably already sent a posse after her.’

  ‘You seem very well informed,’ said Liz, not knowing where this was going.

  ‘Matt and I came to tell you that Captain Cardin and Dr Farrell are behind it all,’ said Karen, looking form Liz to the two men on the walkway, ‘and if you’ve sent some of your people after her, you need to go and stop them.’

  ‘And why would we do that?’ asked Rich.

  ‘Because they’ll be going the wrong way,’ Karen replied.

  ***

  ‘And just how reliable is this map?’ asked Steve, looking down at the unfolded paper.

  ‘Hardly at all,’ Phil replied, shrugging his shoulders. ‘All it takes is a heavy storm and a road gets blocked by a fallen tree or a bridge gets wash away when a river overflows, we never know until we’re out here really, and then we mark it down so we know next time.’

  ‘So, basically this map is only good for telling us where we can’t go, not where we can?’ Steve continued, studying the multiple black crosses that indicated a blocked road or lane.

  ‘Exactly,’ answered Imran with a smile, ‘welcome to our world.’

  Even though Steve had been with them for over six months now, there was still a lot he had to learn about living life in an abandoned world full of the Dead.

  ‘One good thing is that if we can’t use a road to get to Silver Lake wood, then we can assume Cardin’s men can’t either,’ Patrick said, glancing over his shoulder at the three men behind him. ‘And unless whoever is in charge of getting back there has gone totally insane, they’ll be forced to stay away from the major roads and stick to the smaller back roads just like us too.’

  ‘And we’re sure this is the only route that give us any chance of catching up with them?’ said Steve, moving aside more of the spy hole covers to let a little more light fall over the map.

  ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ mumbled Phil, his finger tracing along the roads and lanes that would at least give them a fighting chance, but would also take them perilously close to the red zone around the town of Bodmin, ‘barring the unknown, of course.’

  ‘Right, well from here on in, we’re in territory that hasn’t been travelled in a few years,’ said Patrick, urging Delilah to turn left at a crossroads.

  ‘I can see there’s at least seven of the Dead along the road ahead of us, only two of which are facing us, Imran, how’s the road behind us?’ he continued.

  ‘Well, I can see a couple of the Dead about a hundred metres away and a few more even further down the road, but apart from that, it’s quiet,’ he replied, looking back at Patrick.

  ‘Okay, Gentlemen, now’s the time if you need to take a piss or whatever,’ said Patrick, pulling Delilah to an abrupt stop and turning back to Imran, Phil, and Steve, ‘don’t know when we’ll be able to stop again for the next few hours.’

  ‘Thank fuck,’ said Phil, opening one of the side hatches and stepping out onto a road spotted with clumps of wild grasses and weeds, ‘I’ve been needing to go for the last few miles.’

  ‘What sort of numbers are we talking about?’ asked Imran, following Phil’s example and relieving himself now that he had the chance, ‘My family grew up in London, I don’t think I’d even heard of Bodmin back then. Is it a big town?’

  ‘What you never heard of the beast of Bodmin Moor?’ asked Phil, zipping up his fly now that he had finished.

  ‘No?’ Imran replied, not sure if Phil was being serious or not.

  ‘Bit like Bigfoot, a lot of blurry photos and crazies saying they’d seen it,’ Phil replied climbing back into the cart. ‘Except this beast was meant to be some sort of escaped black panther or something, load of old bollocks, obviously, but to answer your question, Bodmin had a population of, I don’t know, say about fifteen thousand, something like that. It wasn’t huge but big enough, and unfortunately for us, not only did it have a tourist trade adding to that number, but it also had two hospitals.’

  ‘And we’ll be getting dangerously close to one of them,’ added Patrick, keeping an eye on the approaching Dead as Imran finished up, ‘so it could get a bit hairy.’

  ‘Great,’ said Steve with a sigh, ‘can’t it ever just be easy.’

  ‘As Imran said,’ said Patrick, gathering up Delilah’s reins again, ‘welcome to our world…’

  ***

  ‘But I can’t ride a horse!’ said Karen, looking dubiously at the large dappled stallion while Liz made sure the saddle was secure.

  ‘That’s alright then,’ Liz replied, turning to look up at Karen, ‘because I’ll be the one riding it, you’ll just be holding on to me.’

  When Karen had told them that in fact the soldiers were returning to a pick up point in Carlyon bay rather than anywhere near Silver Lake Wood, Liz had instantly realised just how stupid they had been to make this assumption. With the influx of the Dead from the general area of the Eden project in St Austell, and with Carlyon bay being the closest harbour that could accommodate a large enough transport vessel, they should have realised this was the direction they would be heading.

  ‘Like I said, I do recognise your face from around the base, but then the science teams kept to themselves, so I can’t corroborate that you are who you say you are, sorry,’ Avery had said apologetically when Liz had first introduced Karen to him. ‘But if you are Matt’s sister, then I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know him long, but he was a brave soldier and a good man.’

  ‘Well that settles it then,’ Liz had said, still unsure as to whether she could trust Karen, ‘you’ll have to come with me, only Steve will be able to confirm who you are and after everything that’s happened around here, I’m sorry, but I’m not prepared to leave you here.’

  ‘I understand,’ Karen had replied, ‘I could be anyone and you have no reason to believe me, but I am telling the truth about where the pickup point is. If you want any chance at all of getting the baby back, you’ve got to believe me. Matt died to get this message to you, please don’t let it have been for nothing.’

  Liz looked from Karen over to Helen, Leon, and Avery and she knew from the look in each of their eyes that it would be her call what happened next.

  ‘Right,’ she finally said after making up her mind, ‘Rich, give Karen two hand guns from the armoury and plenty of ammo, you can collect the two she dropped on the lane later when the Dead have been thinned down. Leon, tell Penny to get Samson ready and get her to fill
the saddle bags with supplies, we’re going for a ride.’

  And that is how Karen found herself, perched atop the large stallion, with her arms wrapped tightly about Liz’s waist in the holding area just outside the main gate.

  ‘Keep the hand guns in their holsters until I say,’ Liz said, turning her head slightly to Karen behind her. ‘The gunfire will only attract more of the Dead and I don’t want to risk you falling off because you only have one arm around me.’

  ‘Got it,’ Karen replied, nervously looking past Liz’s shoulder at the large gate in front of them.

  ‘Even if you do fall off Samson, don’t start firing unless you really have to,’ Liz continued, listening to the sounds of Leon, Rich, J-Man and Cam putting down the Dead that had collected along the convent’s wall. ‘If you can, use the pipe Leon gave you, otherwise, wait until I get to you and I’ll dispatch them without drawing us any more unwanted attention.’

  ‘You ready, Liz?’ called Gabe down from the winch on the walkway. ‘Leon and the others have just killed the last of the Dead, and there’s only about a dozen of them dotted along the lane leading to the main road, now looks like as good a time as any. ’

  ‘Are any of them on the lane close enough together to worry about?’ she replied, turning to look at Gabe.

  ‘No,’ he answered, ‘they’re spread out from each other. You shouldn’t have any problem getting past them.’

  ‘Okay,’ Liz said, giving Gabe the signal, ‘let’s do this.’

  With a clanking of gears, Gabe began to winch the outer doors open. When they were finally wide enough for Samson to walk through comfortably, Liz gave his reins a flick to urge him forward.

  ‘Good luck,’ said Leon, pulling the mangled corpse of a young girl over to a wheelbarrow, ‘and don’t worry about Anne or Saleana, Jen and I will keep an eye on them till you get back.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, her eyes drawn to the body of the young girl, ‘keep her safe for me.’

  Finally tearing her eyes away from the poor child whose life had been so tragically cut short, she looked from one man to the next; a serious look was on her face.

  ‘Keep them safe, all of them.’ She solemnly said, watching each man nod in reply.

  Satisfied these men would die fighting for those within the walls of Lanherne, Liz tugged Samson’s reins to the right and with a sharp kick of her heels, they were off.

  It felt strange to Liz to be out among the Dead without the comforting tension of her sword strapped across her chest, but with Karen sitting so close behind her, she had to come up with an alternative. At the moment, the sheath was securely strapped to the front of the saddle and before leaving, she had made sure she could release and twist the blade mid-air without catching Samson or Karen in her swinging arc. Only when she had fixed the exact movement in her mind, did she feel comfortable not having her blade on her back.

  ‘We’re just going to charge past these,’ Liz called to Karen behind her, as they galloped toward the first of the Dead on the lane. ‘They can deal with them if they finally reach the wall, but it’s more likely they’ll turn round and follow us now. As the more recent imprint of living sound and move, we’ll become their target, they won’t be able to resist.’

  With barely any guidance from Liz, Samson charged past the first of the walking corpses, veering slightly to the left and then back to the right. With glee, Liz leant forward and patted his neck as he sped past another two of the Dead, this horse was a beast that had conquered his natural fear for the Dead and had adapted to this new world he found himself in. It was certainly exhilarating for Liz to be riding Samson in this way. It was as if, unless he was told otherwise, he would trust his own instincts, matched with those of his rider. So if Samson suddenly moved to the left hand side of the road to avoid another decrepit creature with outstretched withered limbs, it was as if he had pre-empted Liz’s own wish. It wasn’t until the end of the lane was approaching that Samson began to reduce his speed, this was a point he knew he needed guidance from his rider. Which way did they want him to turn?

  ‘Good boy, Samson, good boy.’ Liz cooed, patting Samson’s thick neck again as he slowly came to a stop just beyond the wide rusting farm gate that was open at the end of the lane.

  ‘Jesus!’ Karen said, her voice muffled by the fact that she had pushed her face tightly into Liz’s back. ‘Fuck that scared the shit out of me. Is he going to go that fast all the way there?’

  ‘No, I was just letting Samson do his thing,’ Liz replied, slapping Karen’s hand lightly to get her to loosen the fierce grip she had around her waist. ‘I don’t want to tire him out, so now we’ll be moving at a slower trot for a while. It’s still a lot faster pace than Delilah will be moving, that’s the name of the mare pulling the cart, so we’ll make up the time pretty quick.’

  ‘Samson and Delilah,’ Karen mumbled to herself, ‘really?’

  ‘They belong to the sisters of the convent,’ Liz said smiling over her shoulder, ‘what did you expect them to be called?’

  ‘You were right,’ said Karen, finally relaxing her hold on Liz’s waist to turn and look back up the tree lined lane, as Samson turned right toward the village, ‘the Dead we past are coming this way now, away from the Convent.’

  ‘Good,’ Liz replied, glancing up the lane as well, ‘the less they have to deal with while we’re gone, the better.’

  With an encouraging click of her tongue, Liz urged Samson forward at trotting speed. Glancing back one last time, she bid a silent farewell to Lanherne, and prayed its walls would keep her baby, her sister, and all the others she loved, safe until she could return to protect them.

  ‘So how did you and Matt get to be on the base?’ Liz asked, her eyes scanning the overflowing greenery edged with a carpet of bluebells and small golden primroses on either side of the road.

  Of course, she already knew the answer, Matt had told her before he had returned to the base of his mother’s expertise in microbiology and her subsequent guilt induced suicide. As much as she hated to admit it, Liz was beginning to like this woman who claimed to be Karen, and she hoped this blossoming friendship was not going to be built on a lie.

  ‘Didn’t Matt tell you?’ Karen asked, knowing full well that he had.

  When Matt had first returned to the base, he had gone through what really happened on the mainland in great detail, and she had been so excited to hear that life could be better than the oppressive nightmare she was being forced to live, that she had quizzed him over and over again about every aspect of his adventure.

  ‘Well…’ Liz began, her words suddenly cut short by a sound of activity in the bushes up ahead.

  Liz held up her hand, signally Karen to be quiet and slowed down Samson’s trot to a walk. Liz knew the Dead were not the only thing they had to worry about out here, exposed as they were, there were also the roaming packs of wild dogs to contend with. Slowly, her hand went down to the hilt of her sword and with a soft click, she released the blade. With Samson only a few metres from the bushes from which they had heard movement, Liz tried to peer into the riot of spring growth to locate its source. Without warning, the air was suddenly filled with more than a dozen pairs of grey flapping wings, as a small flock of fat pigeons were startled into flight.

  ‘Oh, it’s just some birds,’ Karen whispered, with a sigh of relief.

  But Liz had lived the last eight years among the Dead and knew never to take anything on face value, and as the Dead man fell through the bushes onto the road, she was proven right. The Dead man slowly pushed himself up from the ground, crushing the joyous bluebells beneath his blackened and filth encrusted hands. Liz looked down at the Dead man who, like all of his decaying brothers across the planet, had pointlessly destroyed something beautiful, and she hated him for it. The Dead man took a shaky step toward Samson and turned his ruined face up to Liz. What was left of his face was a mass of maggot ridden grey flesh, and the rest of his emaciated body hadn’t fared much better either. With one of his
eyes completely missing and the other nothing but a pus filled feast for the insect larvae, Liz was surprised the Dead man was able to see her at all.

  ‘God,’ whispered Karen, covering her mouth with her sleeve, ‘how can you stand the smell?’

  At the sound of her words, the Dead man cocked his head to one side as if trying to pin down the sound of life that had penetrated his rotting eardrums, reached out his arms, and let forth a low dry moan.

  ‘You get used to it,’ Liz replied, swinging her blade in an arc that would connect with the Dead man’s skull, ‘eventually.’

  Unfortunately, with his head tilted at such an angle, her blade glanced off his right temple, removing what little flesh he had left on his cheek and sending a shower of maggots down his chest.

  ‘Damn,’ she said, re-adjusting her hold on the blade.

  But the Dead man seemed to become unusually still, his outstretched arms slowly falling to his side, while his remaining eye began to drift, somehow forgetting its endless search for living flesh. Then, with the softest of moans, the last gasp of air escaped his withered lungs and he crumpled to the floor.

  ‘What happened?’ Karen asked looking down at the lifeless corpse of the man.

  ‘Don’t know,’ Liz replied, her brow creasing in concern.

  ‘You obviously did more damage than you thought,’ suggested Karen, ‘the thing was falling apart, surely it wouldn’t have taken much to put it down.’

  ‘Hmm… perhaps,’ replied Liz, flicking Samson’s reins again.

  As Samson continued to carry Karen and Liz through the village, they could see various corpses dotted along the roadside, evidence that Imran and the others had passed this way earlier.

  ‘Jesus! What happened here?’ said Liz, when they saw seven mutilated bodies hanging from the school railings and the single torn body of a woman lying on the ground.

  ‘Looks like someone outlived their usefulness.’ Karen replied solemnly, turning away from the gruesome scene. ‘Are they the Donaldson’s?’

  ‘Well, it’s hard to tell, but I think so. Mary Donaldson and her daughter don’t seem to be among them though,’ Liz said, looking at each of the corpses in turn. ‘I guess whoever’s in charge has some use for them still.’