Mindless Trilogy (Book 3): Brutal Truths

by Oldham, S. P.

  “It’s me, dad. What the hell is going on?”

  Above them, Joel made a soft sound; it could have been snoring, it could have been something else.

  “We’ll talk about it later. Just get up here!”

  *

  Yasmin couldn’t stop shivering as she huddled into Drums where they sat together, leaning against the wall in the office, Corcoran alongside them. Naomi came to her, raising her hands as if to offer an embrace. Lavender stepped back sharply, noting the flash of hurt in the girl’s eyes at her rejection. She wasn’t ready for condolences and consolation yet; it was too raw.

  Naomi gave a small, sad nod of understanding. She turned away, perching on the desk that Harris had slept on, an expectant look on her tired face.

  Struggling to find words, Lavender managed to stutter, “You’re still in one piece then Drums,”

  Even to her own ears it sounded like a reproach. She followed it up with, “I’m glad you’re okay,” She knew it sounded lame. All Drums did was nod in agreement, seemingly unable to catch her eye.

  “What’s been happening here?” Bailey asked, getting right to it, “Where’s our friend Joel?”

  “He is in one of the cages out there,” Harris jerked his head, “It’s safe, for now,”

  “Not dead yet then?” Naomi said flatly, “Bailey told us he’d been bitten. Turned, has he?”

  “He was getting worse when we locked him in there,” Lavender supplied, “Drooling, slurring like he was paralytic drunk,”

  “Why have you locked him in there?” Bailey asked, a note of disbelief in his voice, “What are you hoping to achieve?”

  Lavender explained the theory she had outlined to Harris when they were alone. She felt less sure of herself in front of a wider audience. Expecting ridicule and doubt, she was reassured when Naomi said, “Oh my God, yes, you could be right!” The girl went on to speak of how she had seen the zombie in the fairground, the one that had previously been pursuing her and Carson, tear itself to pieces right where it stood.

  “Okay, so supposing your little experiment turns out the way you predict. Supposing you can conclude that’s the way all Thinkers, I don’t know, evolve” Drums shrugged, “So what?” “There’s nothing we can do to hurry the process up, is there? So why go to all this trouble?”

  “Because it’s hope, Drums,” Lavender spoke with more conviction that she felt, “That’s the one thing mankind hasn’t had for a long time now; real hope. If we can get the word out there, if we can pass the message on to whoever we might see…”

  “If there’s anyone left,” Drums interjected, “It feels like the world out there’s empty sometimes,”

  Lavender’s stomach lurched. Her tongue suddenly felt too large for her mouth, her eyes stinging with tears. The world was empty now, as far as she was concerned.

  “No, Lavender’s right,” Harris agreed, giving no sign he had noticed her distress, “Spreading the word can only be a good thing. Hell, there might even be people out there who already know about this, or know more than us. Hope brings people together and we need that now, too. We’ve already got a new start ahead of us,” he gestured at Naomi, who put a protective hand to her belly and rubbed subconsciously.

  “I don’t even know if this baby is going to survive Harris,” she said in a small voice, “I hardly eat, barely sleep, I spend every waking moment worrying. I could even die in childbirth. Please don’t anyone pin your hopes on me. Besides, this is Joel’s child. I was raped, remember? What if I hate it? What if I try to kill it because it reminds me of too much?”

  “Naomi!” Yasmin was shocked, “You wouldn’t!”

  “Of course she wouldn’t” Bailey exclaimed, “She’s just exhausted and hungry, like the rest of us. She’s right about one thing though,” he turned to his father, “we have to find a more reliable means of providing food than we’ve been using. There are more of us now, and we want that baby hale and hearty,”

  “We’re right by the sea. What could be a more plentiful resource than that?” Corcoran stated, “I mean, I know the yard had its difficulties, but…”

  “We’re not going back there!” Naomi and Lavender uttered the words together. They caught one another’s eyes, though neither smiled.

  “None of us is going backwards, I think we have to agree that here and now,” Harris said, “Whatever the outcome of this observation, we stick together, we start somewhere anew, we watch each other’s backs. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” came a chorus of uncertain responses.

  “Agreed,” Lavender said dully, “now all we have to do is survive.”

  *

  They each found a spot to call their own, where they slept out the remainder of the night. Bailey positioned himself across the doorway. He had retrieved the curved blade that had been knocked from Drums’ hands during his clash with the deformed zombie, as well taken control of Lavender’s own circular saw weapon. It was stained a deep red down the handles.

  Lavender found a new place, under the table, turning her back on them all. She closed her eyes, sleep never coming, the scene at the clifftops playing out in her mind over and over again.

  *

  She must have dozed eventually, for she woke to hushed voices. They stopped when she turned, stiff-backed, to see what was happening.

  She was surprised to find she was the last to wake. Everyone was up, Harris and Bailey standing at the door.

  “What is it?” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “We were just debating whether we should leave you or wake you,” Harris admitted, “You’ve been through a lot…”

  “We all have,” Lavender snapped, standing too fast, a wave of dizziness bringing nausea with it, “Where are you going?”

  “To check Joel out,”

  “All of you, together?”

  “We’re all keen to see if you’re theory is right,” Bailey explained, “plus, listen,” He pulled the door open, letting in a low, monotonous stream of unintelligible babble in. The sound made Lavender’s skin crawl.

  “He’s turned?”

  “Or he’s turning,” Harris nodded, “Thing is Lavender, we have no idea how long a Thinker stays a Thinker before it self-implodes. I really don’t believe we’re going to be able to keep that thing caged for long. I wish we’d thought about that sooner,”

  “You regret helping me?”

  “It’s not that, it’s just that this whole thing is an unknown. The only thing we know for sure is how brutal Thinkers are. I just wish we had somewhere better to keep him contained, that’s all,”

  Lavender shrugged, “Well, we don’t. How would you move him anyway? You don’t think he’s just going to walk along nicely, no trouble at all do you?”

  “Then what do we do with him?” Yasmin looked scared.

  “We give it some time. We can always just kill him,”

  No one answered. Annoyed, Lavender strode to the door, pulling it wide, free of Bailey’s hand, “We going to take a look or not?”

  The cage was spinning softly on its chain, rocking as if in the sway of some gentle breeze, though there was none to be felt on the gangway. It gave the scene a deceptively peaceful feeling, a falsely gentle ambience. In stark contrast, the change in Joel was shocking.

  He was facing them, sitting upright, one foot tucked beneath him, the other poking out between two bars where his leg stretched. The flesh around his face had become puffy and blackened, as if he had been viciously beaten. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, so profuse in places that his clothes stuck to him in wet clumps. His eyes were wide and staring. The feature that was the most out of place, the most chilling, was his smile.

  On a healthy human it would have been a broad grin, exaggeratedly so. On Joel, now, it was reminiscent of the thick black smile of some warped clown. It had begun to tear into the flesh at his cheeks where it stretched so wide, end to end.

  “Jesus Christ!” Drums hissed, turning away from the
sight, attempting to steer Naomi away too, to protect her from it.

  “That’s Joel?” she murmured, then in a lower tone, “That’s the father of my child?”

  Yasmin reached to stroke her arm. Naomi pulled back, much as Lavender had done. Lavender wondered again what the girl went through in her mind day in, day out. She would need help if she was going to get through this.

  “No Naomi, that’s not your baby’s father. As much as he was a bastard, the man that put that baby in your belly was just that; a man. Don’t ever forget that,” Her words came out harsh-sounding, but they seemed to bring Naomi to her senses.

  “You shouldn’t have seen this,” Bailey said, putting a large hand on the girl’s shoulders, “There was no need for you to come out here,”

  Naomi shrugged, “It is what it is,” she said, “so now what?”

  “Now what?” Joel repeated, leaving them all in shock. His speech was slurred, bloody saliva sending foamy rivulets down his chin, yet what he said was clear enough.

  “Is he mocking us?” Drums asked in an angry tone.

  “You ever heard a Thinker speak before?” Harris asked Lavender.

  “Only when they are about to turn on themselves, otherwise, no,”

  Harris considered, “Maybe they lose the power of speech once their fully turned. It could be that Joel is not fully a Thinker yet,” he saw the look of doubt on their faces, “Just think about it a minute. They can utter a word or two just before they kill themselves. We’ve just witnessed Joel talking, though he’s obviously pretty far gone. He probably doesn’t even know what he’s said, but it makes sense. Whatever happens in their brains when they turn, first into Thinkers, then into these Suicide Zombies for want of a better phrase, it seems they lose and then regain speech,”

  “It’s a sobering thought,” Lavender added, her own thoughts tumbling, “because all I ever heard a Thinker say before it ripped into itself was something like an apology, or an expression of regret,”

  “That’s really depressing,” Bailey added, his honest, open features clouded with a sudden sadness. He saw they were waiting for an explanation, “It seems to me that in those moments, they realise what they’ve done; what they’ve become. Be honest, if that was you, wouldn’t you want to kill yourself too?”

  Yasmin

  It was Yasmin who broke the ensuing silence, her words deeply worrying to Lavender.

  “I’m sorry Naomi, I get you’ve been through a lot and I know he hurt you, but we need to remember that Joel was the one who took care of us all, at first. He got us out to safety, he kept us protected. I know he did you wrong, but you can’t wish this on him,” The girl’s voice trembled as she spoke. Lavender thought she had a look of determination about her, like she meant to say her piece.

  “Are you serious?” Naomi’s tone was incredulous, “He wasn’t thinking about protecting us. He was thinking about himself the whole time! All he wanted was little gang to follow him without a second thought; to hang on his every word. He wanted girls who couldn’t fight him and boys he hoped would either join in or shut up! Don’t go putting him on some pedestal Yasmin, just because he’s finally got what’s coming to him!”

  Yasmin bit her lip before uttering, “He never touched me,”

  However hard she tried to hide it, the trace of envy in Yasmin’s voice was unmistakable. Corcoran and Drums both reacted, Drums swearing softly and shaking his head, Corcoran releasing a gasp that came out as “Whoa!” Naomi rocked on her heels as if she had been physically slapped.

  “What?” she asked, loaded with disbelief, “What did you say?”

  In the cage, Joel’s corrupt grin widened, a sliver of yellow drool dribbling down his chin.

  “Listen girls, maybe now’s not the time,” Harris ventured, adopting a fatherly tone. Naomi shoved him aside, taking a step closer to Yasmin, “Are you jealous?”

  Yasmin stepped back uncertainly, her back to the cage, “Of course I’m not,” her denial sounded false, “I’m just saying that, because you have reason to dislike him…”

  “Dislike him? Dislike him? He fucking raped me!”

  “I know, I know,” Yasmin raised her hands in a placatory gesture, “look, forget I said anything, okay? It didn’t come out the way I meant it to, all right?”

  Naomi glared at her, her fists clenching.

  “You need to think of that baby,” Bailey said, stepping alongside her, ready to stop her lashing out if need be.

  “Do I?” Naomi rounded on him, “What if I don’t want to? What if I don’t give a damn about this thing growing inside me?” Hot tears had started to spill down her cheeks, her rage diminishing even as she spoke, “I didn’t ask to be everyone’s fucking hope for the future! I didn’t ask for any of this!”

  “I know you didn’t,” Bailey said soothingly, “None of us did Naomi. We’re all in this together now, remember?”

  Corcoran came to her, wrapping his arms around her thin, unresisting shoulders, steering her away from the landing and back to the office, making comforting noises as they went. Before they disappeared from view, he turned to throw Yasmin a look of reproach.

  The girl blushed, taking another subconscious step away from their disapproval. Lavender, seeing how close the girl was to the edge of the gangway, raised her hands, “Yasmin, stop! You’re too close to the edge! Come forward a bit now, come on. Everything’s okay,”

  “Right, except you all hate me now,”

  “We don’t hate you,” Harris shook his head sadly, “We can put this right Yasmin, we can help you. All in it together, remember?”

  Yasmin hesitated, uncertain. Above her the cage continued to semi-circle slowly in its own breeze. A sound like laughter, only full of menace rather than mirth, came from it. Lavender felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “Yasmin, please, just take a couple of steps forward, okay? You’re going to slip,”

  Yasmin sniffed loudly as a single, fat tear rolled down her cheek. She turned, unmoving, to look down at the hard, unyielding floor below. She looked for a long time, turning back to them whilst wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

  She sniffed again, “I could just jump. I mean, it’s not as if there’s anything much to live for anymore,”

  A sudden image of Carson, locked tight in an embrace with the zombie, flashed into Lavender’s mind. She shut her eyes against it, but it only made the vision stronger. She watched in her mind’s eye as once again he stepped up onto the low beam that made a sort of fence, his muscular frame leaning towards the cruel rocks below…

  Her eyes snapped open, anger all at once surging through her, “Don’t you dare,” she growled through clenched teeth, “Don’t you dare!”

  “Well what do you care?” Yasmin was suddenly shouting, an age of resentment, anger and fear finding a release, “What do any of you care if I live or die? I don’t mean anything to you, you barely know me! At least he had some idea of who I was,” her arm stretched up towards the cage, indicating Joel, “At least he pretended to give a shit!”

  It happened so fast that afterwards, Lavender found she couldn’t clearly recall the split second when it all went wrong. She saw Yasmin’s arm reach up to the cage. She saw the girls’ thin fingers elongate almost gracefully. for no more than a brief moment in time. Then a much larger hand, a rotting, fetid, corpse-like hand, was wrapped around her frail wrist, pulling her bodily off her feet. It held her there, dangling helpless over the drop, out of reach.

  Yasmin was screaming and crying all at once, giving the lie to her proclaimed wish to die. Lavender was aware that Naomi and Corcoran had coming running back at the noise, concern written large on both of their faces.

  Joel was on his knees in the cage, his face pressed up against the bars in a position that would have been painful had he had any scrap of human feeling left in him. He had Yasmin clenched tight in his grip with one hand, the other grasping one of the bars of the cage. He was look
ing down at her, no trace of emotion in his features now other than a base, brutal hunger.

  Drool stretched from his mouth, elongating before snapping to land in greasy gobbets on Yasmin’s head. The girl was hysterical, swinging wildly, trying to reach up and push Joel’s hand away. Unable to reach, she turned to stretch out to the others on the gangway, all looking up at her in horror.

  Bailey was at the edge of the gangway, his father at his back, gripping his jeans. The others rushed to join in, finding points on Bailey or Harris where they could hold on and dig in against Bailey falling.

  Bailey reached, on tip-toe, his fingers straining to get to Yasmin. He swiped at her foot; missed. On the third attempt his fingers brushed tantalisingly over the toe of her boot. On the fourth, he made brief contact. Yet, even as he tried to get a firmer hold on the cold synthetic fabric of her footwear, he felt her slip loose, sliding upwards out of his grip.

  Lavender experienced a strange detachment as she watched the Thinker that was once Joel haul Yasmin’s full body weight up one-handedly. He simply bent his arm at the elbow and up she went. As she drew level with him in the cage, her screaming and crying stopped, as if her mouth and eyes were all at once too dry to cooperate. Even from the gangway they could hear her ragged, rapid breathing, hyperventilating as she saw – she must have seen – what the Thinker intended.

  Desperate, Lavender looked around for something she could throw, something she could use to dislodge the girl, knock her free of his grip. If she fell from that height it might kill her, but then again it might not. It might just disable her for a while, break a few bones. Anything had to be better than what the Thinker had planned.

  She reached down to pick up a width of metal as wide as her forearm and about as long. She saw that some of the others had the same idea.

  Then it was too late. The Thinker had stood upright in its flimsy cage, bowed at the neck to accommodate its greater height. The motion pulled Yasmin up higher still, making Lavender doubt the possibility of her surviving the fall, after all.