by Carl Meadows
“We’re not going to walk away though, right?” I asked.
Nate shook his head. “No. We’ll have to take sides one way or the other, and if I was a betting man, I’d say the person or people in the pharmacy are less likely to be assholes than these toy soldiers acting like playground bullies.”
Clearly, Nate doesn’t like bullies, especially ones with guns. I guess he’s seen too many of them in the service. His tale of Kadie in Sierra Leone comes to mind again. Also, since I forced him into taking on Bancroft to liberate our little family, he’s a lot more receptive to interventions. I read a quote somewhere, I can’t remember where.
“When hope has no champion, evil rules all.”
Nate is definitely one of hope’s champions now. He’s all about standing on the side of right these days, and I like it.
“If we’re forced to act, we need to do so quickly,” he murmured. “I’m going to move for a clearer face-on shot on the guy with the rifle on the Humvee. Your first target should be the guy holding the MP5. The guy with the shotgun is less of a threat to us at this range, and the leader only has a holstered revolver. Let’s wait and see what happens, got it?”
“All over it like a hobo on a hotdog!” I nodded, lifting the rifle to my shoulder, and taking a bead on the bell end holding the machine gun.
He graced me with his raised eyebrow, gave a little snort and shake of his head, then glided gracefully away to a position about forty feet away. The four men were so focused on the pharmacy and each other, none of them were turned in our direction. Sloppy, considering how much noise they had just made. Undead could have appeared at any moment and they just weren’t being vigilant at all.
A little side note here as well. Why did no undead venture into this area after all that noise? There should have been a shitload milling about in this area, with the wall of undead blocking the main road from a few weeks back. Even if they were no longer bound by Captain Evil into that dense mass, the sheer number should have been milling and wandering for days. Surely some of them should have wandered up this way, and then drawn by the gunfire?
I mean, was there something at play here? Were we meant to find and rescue Dean, and given a little respite to do so without the undead getting their filthy claws involved? It’s weird and makes me wonder if Captain Evil is only one side of a celestial coin. I mean, there’s yin and yang, order and chaos, matter and anti-matter, and so forth. Every force has an equal and opposite force, right?
Well, if there is a celestial player for our team, they need to get their ass off the bench and get in the game, because at the moment it feels like we’re playing against a Premier League team, and we’re fielding the Dog and Partridge pub team on a Sunday morning after a night of tequila shots, and half our team are still pissed. This isn’t an even playing field, so if there is someone playing for little old humanity, they need to do more than just hold back some undead for ten minutes. I appreciate the gesture, but come on, get in the fucking game already.
Anyway, Nate got in position and I had my eyes on the bully boys, and eventually the leader hollered out that five minutes was up. Someone shouted from within the pharmacy that they were coming out, and I blinked rapidly in disbelief as I saw Deano himself – weapon held aloft in two hands – walk out of the pharmacy with all those guns trained on him.
I glanced over at Nate, and he was already looking at me. I looked back at the unfolding scene and looked back to Nate again. He raised an eyebrow, I nodded, my expression hard and jaw set, and God love him he seemed to understand. We were going to hit them. I was going to hit them no matter what, and he knew it. Without any argument, he just moved his eye back down his scope and waited. Fucking hero.
I wasn’t sure I could properly drop the guy with a single round, so I flicked the rifle to burst, aimed low knowing that muzzle would walk up, and waited. Dean was on his knees, his own rifle on the ground as his hand slowly reached to a pistol at his hip. Just as his hand was about to touch it, I pulled the trigger.
Sweet as a nut. The first round popped the guy high in the chest and the muzzle ride did the rest for the other two, finally coming to rest in his ugly face. A millisecond after I pulled the trigger, Nate fired a single round and popped the rifleman’s melon.
The other two were so taken by surprise that their heads went on a swivel, and Dean snatched the handgun from his hip and double-tapped the man holding the shotgun like a boss, while I was already moving my sight to the leader. Glocks with no safety are always ready to party.
The leader’s weapon was halfway out when my next burst ripped up his flank, smashing his hip and ribs, and Dean fired twice again to finish the job.
Three seconds, maximum.
With the bad guys down, I just skipped my way over to Nate, handed him my rifle so I could run, and just said, “That’s my Dean!” And I was off.
I nearly knocked him clean off his feet when I leaped into a hug with him. We were both a mess, he couldn’t believe it was me, and when I remembered my idiot self and told him Maria was alive and she was two minutes down the road, the wind went right out of him. Pure relief.
Freya, this had to be the best day of the apocalypse thus far. Charlie’s birthday was pretty damn good, but reuniting Dean and Maria? Shit, I was a mess.
Dean had three kids with him, one of them I recognised from photos in their house. Sarah Walsh is a redhead, not long turned eighteen, and the Williams’ are her godparents. She had a pistol at her hip, so I guess Nate wasn’t the only one teaching Dean’s girls how to shoot. The other two were boys, Alex and Zain, and a bit younger than Sarah, I think. Alex looks to be of Chinese heritage, and Zain is sub-continental Asia. I think he’s Indian, maybe Bangladeshi? I don’t know. I’ll find out at some other point.
Turns out that when the world fell apart, Dean was asked by Sarah’s dad to get her from the private school she boarded at, which is in the local area apparently. Dean secured the campus with the kids and one teacher that remained after clearing out a gun locker at the HQ where he worked. They’ve lost some people in the four months that have passed as well, which sucks. There are eight of them remaining in total, including Dean.
I had no idea there was a fancy country private school anywhere near here. There’s a different private high school in one of the towns, but it’s in a residential built-up area and doesn’t have boarding facilities. I had no idea this Crenshaw school even existed. Today I learned.
Dean also did go back to their house, but Maria had already been taken by then.
There was lots of hurried sharing of stories, and while it was amazing watching Maria and Dean be reunited, my heart did go out to Nate a little.
After we gathered up all the weapons and gear from the assholes, Nate climbed into the Humvee – as there was no way he was missing that opportunity for a big new toy – and told us to walk back down to where the others were. He’d take the vehicle round the top end of the service road and meet us behind the surplus store.
Dean’s SUV was the one out in front of the pharmacy shredded by the gunfire, so we were going to have to transport them all back home or at least get them a vehicle. We called our mission short for the day and decided to take them back to our place first to sort a vehicle and some supplies. We had plenty and Dean was no random stranger that we needed to build trust with. This was the man that helped put me on the straight and narrow. My entire moral code was constructed by Dean and Maria. He’s family.
Maria stood and stared for a moment as we approached on foot. Freya, I can’t tell you how happy I was in that moment. Maria’s eyes moved from Dean, to me, and to Sarah, her hands slapped over her mouth in shock, then the couple were hurtling towards each other like the final scene in a romance movie. It was very cinematic.
After they were reunited, Maria then folded Sarah in a crushing hug, hardly believing she was there as well. There were many happy tears, many hugs, and I got my fair share as well from them both.
When Nate pulled up in the Humve
e, he was a little awkward, the first time I’ve ever seen him that way. He hovered in the background, still being all professional and keeping watch, while survival stories were hurriedly shared. Maria eventually spotted him on the periphery and went to him, thanking him for bringing her family back to her. She hugged him and planted a little kiss on his cheek, raising an affectionate hand to touch his face, and returned to her husband.
I think Nate’s been burning a candle for Maria, and it was hard to see him take a deep sigh as she moved back to Dean. It was a resigned, “ah well,” kind of gesture, punctuated with a little shrug to himself. Don’t get me wrong, he was happy to have reunited Maria with her beloved and give her such joy, but it’s also kind of sad.
He caught my eye, realised I’d seen his little moment, and just smiled and nodded, letting me know everything was okay.
Dean was pretty amazed with our little lodge and said that tomorrow we should all go over to the school, everyone, just to see the place. We now have two allied sites. But then?
“There’s plenty of room at the school,” said Dean. “We should all band together, it’s a great site.”
And there it was. The fart in the elevator.
I hadn’t even thought about that, and then realised Maria would move out of the lodge for sure. With both Dean and Sarah there, it was pretty much a given. Dean was the only trained shooter at the school as Sarah was new to it, and he wasn’t going to abandon them and move here. It didn’t make sense to move them all out of there and cram them into our smaller space.
We glossed over that decision for now and to her credit, despite their reunion, Maria said she wasn’t going to just move to the school today. She still had responsibilities and we could all talk about the future in the days to come.
After they hung out with us for a couple of hours, we gave them some food and medical supplies, gave them a vehicle to get them home – the black Astra we took from Shooty McFuckface at the court building - and they went back to Crenshaw before their people started panicking about their absence.
Tomorrow, we’re all going to Crenshaw. All of us. There are eight here, so we’re going in a convoy of three. Nate will drive the Humvee, taking Isaac, Mark, and Charlie. Alicia will drive the van loaded up with some more supplies we’re going to take them, with Norah as her passenger. I’ll be driving our trusty pickup, with Maria and Particles riding shotgun.
It should be an interesting day, I think. And likely quite awkward when the moving question comes up again.
I’m happy as a pig in shit right now, because everyone I consider as family are alive and well. That’s just bloody awesome.
However, I do think this is going to change the dynamic of the lodge completely. I’m certain it’s a given that Isaac will move to the school, and honestly, I’m okay with that. The two of us having distance will do everyone a power of good.
I can’t see how Maria wouldn’t move in the next few days either. She’s got her husband back, and her goddaughter. She’s been around since Sarah was born. They’ve known her way longer than me.
That’s going to be two definite moving out of the lodge, which actually saddens me. This is my home now, the first place I’ve really felt was home. It was great having my own flat for four months, but home is really where the people most important to you are. Home isn’t really a place, it’s people, I guess.
But this lodge has so much significance for me that moving out just doesn’t feel right for the moment. For one thing, Freya, this is where you’re buried. Moving away would feel like an abandonment of your memory somehow. Shrug.
Mark’s skills might be of more use over there, and where Mark goes, so does Charlie. Personally, I think Alicia will be wherever Nate is. She wants to be a warrior, and there’s no better teacher than our resident one-man army.
There’s a very real possibility that our lodge might reduce to just me, Nate, Alicia, Norah, and of course Particles.
So today has been somewhat bittersweet, I think. It’s amazing, and I wouldn’t change it at all, Freya.
But I also think it signals the beginning of a new phase for us. And an end.
Anyway, there’s no point in dwelling now. It’s been a tiring day emotionally, and we’ve got some further discussions to have with Dean about those people. From the brief garble he did about them, they sound like a cult of nutters, but suggested there were hundreds of them. And they talked about their leader commanding the dead, which is all kinds of weird.
Either way, we’re going to the school tomorrow for a tour, to meet our new allies, and to have further discussions about these heavily armed lunatics calling themselves the Children of the Resurrection.
Well, that’s not a creepy name at all, is it?
Night night, Freya. Wish you were here.
PART 3
DREAMS OF LIGHT AND DARK
NOVEMBER 5th, 2010
CHANGES
Remember, remember, the fifth of November. It should be Bonfire Night, or to give it the correct title, Guy Fawkes Night, where we staunch, stiff-upper lipped Brits celebrate the failure of the 1605 Gunpowder Plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament during its state opening. We give pennies to our children who have constructed effigies of the conspirator for whom the day is named, which we later cheer and toss on a huge fire so we can watch them burn.
I mean, how fucked up is that when you consider it? Yay, our children are burning effigies of a national traitor from four centuries ago! Go us!
Parliament declared a national holiday, first celebrated a year later, to mark foiling a plot to kill the king and parliament as a reprisal for oppression of Roman Catholics in England. Hearts and minds of a peace-loving God, eh?
“We don’t like how your religion is oppressing our religion, so we’re going to blow you the fuck up!”
“Oh yeah! Well fuck you, we caught you out, so we’re going to burn your ass, then make all our children celebrate it for the rest of time! Sucks to be you, Guy!”
Not much changed for the next four centuries. Religion has a lot to answer for.
Actually, not fair. Dean is religious, and he doesn’t want to start wars on Muslims, or Sikhs, or Buddhists, or other denominations of the Christian faith. That’s the kind of religion I’m okay with. You do you, but don’t tell everyone else to follow the teachings of something that gets all the credit when something goes right, and when something goes wrong, it’s all just part of a plan. I’m not sure I can get behind a plan as to why somebody’s four-year old just died of leukemia, or there are diseases ripping entire third world countries apart along with famine and drought. Assholes live to their nineties, when good people are struck down before their time by cancer, or heart failure, or something else from the litany of things that can stop our clocks.
Okay, Lockey, time to get off the soapbox. That was meant to be a jovial opening to my entry, and instead I went off at an oblique tangent. Long story short, I have no problem with religion. You do you and the things that make you happy. I only have a problem with people who force their religious beliefs on to others and try to dictate their behaviour.
Yesterday, we went to visit Crenshaw school in our little convoy, the first time the whole lodge has gone out. I have to say, the place impressed me. It’s hidden from the country road by hedgerows and trees, and if you don’t know it’s there, you’ll go right past it without ever knowing. There’s a turn on to a road that runs for about a quarter mile which arrives at a huge double gate of iron bars, revealing the wall of metal fencing that runs round the whole campus.
The site is huge. I mean, I’m comparing it to the lodge, but even compared to my old high school, it’s massive. I think that’s largely to do with how much space there is. There’s so much greenery, and the site spreads out over a large area so no part of it feels constricted. The buildings on campus are modern and state of the art, apart from the original school which is now the admissions building and administrative centre of the institution.
The original scho
ol was built in the 1920’s, so it has that old-style Victorian look to it. It’s stylish, imposing, and full of character, but beyond that the rest of the site is extremely contemporary, with every building’s roof plastered in solar panels. There’s even a massive on-site tank for diesel, which feeds into heating and backup generators by an underground pipe system.
Honestly, it’s absolutely amazing. It’s secure, it has self-sufficient power in solar energy, plus the diesel backups, and it has artesian wells for fresh, clean water.
It’s actually damn hard to argue against moving there, considering the sheer amount of space there, and the eight of them are housed in a single dormitory building. That building alone has enough space for the rest of us to move in, but there are three more halls of that size just as dormitories, and even a small cluster of houses further back, where the onsite maintenance people would live. Not little rooms, but actual two-bedroom, two-floor houses.
I mean, holy shit, how much did it cost for one kid to come here for a year? Truthfully, if I had kids, and I had the money to send them to a place like this, you’re damn tootin’ I’d do it. The place is breathtaking.
After we’d had the full tour and all the introductions were made, we sat down in the communal area of Hall Fire where they make their home (as apparently the four dorms are named after the elements) and talked of the future.
Particles was clearly loving all the attention, as the younger kids were thrilled to have a dog on site, but the pooch himself gravitated to a girl named Jennifer, or JJ as she likes to be called. She was the only survivor from the girl’s dorm when one of them died and killed the other three, with only JJ managing to escape unscathed from that horror. She’s the only girl here other than Sarah, and she seems hardened by that experience. It must have been pretty bad shit that went down, but as usual with his spooky dog-therapist instincts, Particles seemed to chill her out as he sat on her lap and let her stroke him.