“And I can hear a funny noise coming that way.” He pointed to his left, into the woods.
“Well, forget about the noise,” Grace huffed. “Just keep walking. It’s probably just a deer or a squirrel or … something.”
Gavin ignored her and took careful steps towards the trees.
“Gavin?” Grace hissed.
He waved her away. “Just ... give me a minute, will you?”
Gavin pulled out his knife from his pocket and entered the area and could see right away the culprit of the noise. A Canavar was sitting down on the ground and appeared to be tied to a tree with some rope. It looked female and the smell was horrendous. It had clothes on, but they looked like dirty rags, and the face was so rotten that parts of the skull was exposed in the left cheek area and the eye socket.
Grace gave in, the intrigue was too much for her to ignore. She walked over and stood next to Gavin. She gasped once her eyes clocked the dead being and asked, “Why is it tied up?”
Gavin shook his head. “Maybe this ... person was bitten and the person that was with them couldn’t bring themselves to kill her, so they tied her up instead.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Gavin laughed.
“Alright, alright,” Grace huffed. “I’m only asking. You don’t have to...”
Grace stopped in mid sentence and gave Gavin a playful slap and pointed ahead. Gavin looked up and could see a small man in the woods, grey beard on his face, staring at the two of them from around thirty yards away.
“Shall we go over and see who he is?” Gavin asked Grace.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Grace. “In fact, I think that’s a terrible idea. Let’s just fuck off, away from the weirdo.”
The two of them walked away and had one last glance at the strange man before exiting the woods.
They continued to walk and five minutes or so later, they reached a bend in the road and a smile stretched across Gavin’s face when the road straightened up. He knew where he was now.
“We’re near,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Gavin nodded. “A few more minutes.”
The two individuals could now see that the woods were finishing in this particular part of the area. The road was on a slight incline and they could now see the farmhouse up ahead.
As soon as they reached the place, the pair of them stopped walking and looked on in astonishment. The place was black, smouldering, and thick black smoke snaked its way to the murky heavens.
“You didn’t tell me that this place was a little burnt,” Grace giggled, trying to put some humour into the situation.
Gavin ignored her, took a couple of steps forwards, and stopped by the front garden gate, still gazing at the wrecked establishment. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, that’s pissed all over that idea,” said Grace.
Gavin placed his hand over his mouth and gazed in astonishment. “What happened?”
“Did you know the people in there?” Grace asked him.
Gavin scratched at his head, still staring in disbelief. “Not really. We briefly met once.” Gavin remembered the flirty conversation he had with a young woman called Yoler, weeks back, before the camp was attacked and everybody dispersed or died. “My main concern is that some of the people from my camp probably went here.” Gavin remembered Donald, Helen and her son heading in the direction of the pond during the attack, before he fled himself. They must have gone to the farm.
“We don’t know if anyone has perished or not,” said Grace. “They probably escaped and went elsewhere. We can’t be too negative.”
Gavin took a look to his left side, gazing at Grace, and a smile stretched over his features. “You’re right,” he said. “If they’re still alive, I think I know where they could have gone.”
“Where?”
“My old camp.”
“And how far is that?” the teenager moaned.
“Not far.” Gavin looked at Grace and gave her a wink. “Come on. Let’s check the place out before we go back to my old camp.”
They reached the farmhouse and walked around the side of the house to see a burnt out car. The house was made of stone, so it was still obviously standing, but the windows were all blacked out and smoke was billowing from the demolished roof. They reached the back part of the house. There was a large dirt patch, possibly a vegetable patch that had been dug up, and further on were two graves.
Grace looked at Gavin for answers, but he shook his head.
“I haven’t a clue who lies here,” he said. “As long as it’s not Helen and David, I don’t care.”
“Shall we go inside?”
Gavin opened the back door and peered inside. The place was a black and smelly mess. Five minutes inside the place would lead to a serious coughing episode. It wasn’t worth the risk, Gavin thought. He then looked at Grace and said, “There’s no point.”
“So what now?”
Gavin turned and looked over at the field. Behind the trees the pond was present, and further on was a place he had stayed at for many months.
Gavin walked away from the house and headed to the field, descending the hill. “Follow me.”
“Will it be safe?” Grace followed Gavin through the long grass. “I thought you said that the Canavars attacked you.”
“That was a month ago.”
“So the place should be safe, right?”
Gavin hunched his shoulders. “Only one way to find out.”
Chapter Forty-One
Exhausted from the walk and burying Simon, Yoler and Dicko sat on the ground, whilst Helen and David had decided to go into a hut where they used to sleep.
It appeared that David had had a bad night and was still tired, so Helen had taken him into their ‘old place’ and tried to get him settled down so he could sleep for a few hours.
“We’ll get some water from the pond later on,” Dicko said to Yoler. “Just need to get the ingredients to filter the stuff.”
Yoler agreed and said, “We gave Donald some food to keep him going for a week or so, but now we’re here and there are more mouths to feed...”
“We’ll go out on a run later on.”
“Me and you ... again.” Yoler huffed. “Is that the way it’s gonna be from now on, Dicky Boy?”
Dicko was unsure why Yoler was moaning and queried, “What do you mean?”
“Well,” she lowered her voice, knowing that the hut that Helen and David were in wasn’t far away, “What’s Helen going to do?”
“She’s not a fighter. Everybody knows that,” said Dicko, sticking up for Helen Willis. “And she also has a son.”
“So?”
“If she went out with either myself or you and something happened, it’d be hard telling the boy that his mother was gone.” Dicko ran his fingers through his beard and smiled thinly. “Trust me. I’ve had to do it with my own son, telling him that his mother and little sister were not coming back, and it ain’t easy, I can tell you.”
“So she sits around while we go out and risk our necks, is that it?” Yoler kept her voice to a whisper and looked over at the huts where Helen and David were.
“Well, when she was here with the rest of them, she cooked, she washed clothes, she hung them out to dry ... she’ll be useful. I suppose me and you going out there and leaving them on their own would be putting them at risk, but hopefully Donald will show up.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Dicko smiled at Yoler’s pessimism. “No, I think he’ll be back. He’s a prick, but he’s a tough prick. I can’t believe I’m saying this now, but I’m glad he’s with us. I suppose he could have told me and you to go fuck ourselves when we turned up, especially as we kicked him out of the farm.”
“Maybe this is the scenario he wanted,” Yoler said with a smirk. “Being back in the company of Helen. Maybe he set the place alight.”
“I can’t believe you
’ve just said that.” Dicko laughed and shook his head at Yoler. “No, it was that Hando guy that did it. Donald loves Helen and that little boy. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Men have done stranger things,” Yoler said, and began to twirl her dark hair with her finger.
“Don’t even joke about it.”
Yoler could see that Dicko looked crestfallen and asked him what was wrong.
“I was thinking about Simon,” he began. “When we went on that pointless run, the one where we came back with tea and coffee, I went into a café. I came across a child Canavar. I swear … it was the spitting image of Imelda. I came out and Simon could tell something was wrong and wanted to take a look for himself. I tried to talk him out of it, but… He never said a word on the way back. Poor bastard. I know what it feels like to lose a son and a daughter.”
Yoler held her hand up and gazed at Dicko.
Baffled, Dicko asked her, “What is it?”
“I hear something.”
“Well, I can’t hear fuck all,” Dicko snickered gently. “You must have ears like a bat.”
Yoler shushed him, putting her forefinger to her lips, and now Dicko could hear the sound.
The two individuals looked in the direction of the sound and waited and waited. They never thought to warn Helen and David, they just stared and lingered.
Two figures could be seen coming out of the trees. One was a female, a teenager with dark features, and she was dressed in grey jogging bottoms, and a black T-shirt. She had no coat and looked cold. Dicko recognised the woman. It was the same woman he and Simon had hit when they were in the car, but he chose to keep quiet. He didn’t want to alarm the woman.
The male was dark also, a lot older than his female companion, and he was carrying a rucksack on his shoulder.
Yoler scrunched her eyes. She didn’t know the female, but she had met the male before. “Gavin,” said Yoler.
The handsome man smiled and lifted his hand as a way of greeting the pair.
Dicko smiled and said, “I’ll go and get Helen.”
Dicko went inside the cabin and returned with Helen seconds later.
She clocked Gavin and, ignoring the young female by his side, she ran for him and the pair of them hugged. They had grown close over the months and Gavin always saw Helen like an older sister.
They broke away and Helen asked, “Where’s Hayley?”
Gavin dropped his head slightly and shook it. “She never made it.” He scanned around the area and looked at Helen with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Helen cried. “I always hoped that…”
Gavin asked, “David?”
Helen smiled thinly. “David’s sleeping in the cabin. Donald also made it. He’s... Um ... out. He’ll be back soon.”
“What about the rest?”
Helen shrugged her shoulders. There were only ten of them to begin with. “I don’t know, but I’m assuming the worst.”
“It’s good to see you, Helen.”
“You too.” Helen then moved her head to the side and said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your young friend?”
“Of course,” Gavin said. “Sorry. I’m a bit dehydrated and my head is pounding.”
“Grace!” a shriek came from behind Yoler and Dicko, making the pair of them jump and turn around to see Lisa running out of the cabin and heading over to Gavin and Grace, but it was the young girl that she was delighted to see.
“Mum!” Grace shrieked.
Mother and daughter hugged for what felt like an eternity to Yoler and Dicko, and once they broke away from each other, Grace was the first to speak.
She said, “I thought you were...”
“No.” Lisa Newton wiped the tears of joy from her face and had lost her smile and had a more sombre look etched on her features. “They killed your younger sister, though.”
A blanket of melancholy was over the two females and they hugged one another once again.
“Well, this is breaking my heart,” Yoler said with derision.
“It’s like that show with Cilla Black,” said Dicko. “Surprise, surprise.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yoler guffawed. “A bit before my time, old man.”
“A bit before your time,” Dicko chuckled quietly.
“You really are an old fart, Dicko, aren’t you?”
“You don’t complain when we’re at it.” Dicko immediately blushed when he said what he had said.
“It’s not as if I have a group of stallions to choose from, is it?”
“Oh, cheers.” Dicko feigned hurt, and was enjoying the gentle banter with his comrade, whilst Lisa and Grace were still hugging and having their moment.
At this point, Gavin and Helen had gone inside. Helen had told Gavin to be quiet because David was still sleeping, and wanted to catch up with their bums parked.
“You’ve got a good body,” Yoler continued, gazing at Dicko. “I’ll give you that. You’re quite ripped.”
“That’s what happens when you’re constantly on the move, you have little food, and hardly any water to drink.”
Dicko and Yoler watched as Lisa and her daughter finally broke away from their embrace. A teary Lisa kept on touching Grace’s face and kissing her and couldn’t believe that they had found one another.
Yoler called over to Lisa, “Why don’t you take her into the cabin. She must be thirsty.”
The two did as they were told, leaving Yoler Sanders and Paul Dickson standing in the woodland.
Dicko asked Yoler, “I’m thinking about how to get this place up and running.”
Yoler nodded. “It was alright the way it was before. Just need to get the string and tins back up. Maybe a washing line as well.”
Dicko nodded in agreement.
Yoler looked behind at the cabin, and pointed to her right. “We could sneak off for a bit and have some fun.”
“Fun?”
“Do I have to spell it out?” she sighed. “A quick shag.”
Dicko shook his head.
“Why not?” Yoler huffed. “I’m a bit smelly as well, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“The condoms were in the farmhouse that is now burnt to fuck.”
“You can pull out when...”
“No,” he said. “Too risky.”
“So we’re gonna have to act like a couple of teenagers and I have to give you a wank and you give me a finger blasting?”
“You really have a great way with words, Yoler.” Dicko began to chuckle.
A rustle to the right of them made the pair of them turn around, and they could see immediately who the creator of the noise was. Donald was back.
Covered in sweat, Donald huffed and puffed the last ten yards and raised his hand at Yoler and Dicko, and looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. He was bent over, struggling to get his breath.
“Made it then?” said Yoler.
“Yeah,” Donald groaned. “But I’ve got a throat drier than a nun’s snatch and my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”
“You sound like a guy I used to know. A guy called Vince Kindl.” Dicko yawned, and then turned to Yoler. “And this guy was worse than you.”
“What a fucking night I’ve had,” moaned Donald. “I need to sleep for a week.”
“Go inside then,” said Yoler. “There’re some new people inside to meet. I believe you already know one of them.”
“Who?” Donald looked exhausted, but a small shot of adrenaline went through him after Yoler told him the news of the arrival of guests. He stood up straight and looked at Dicko and Yoler with suspicious eyes.
Donald looked at the smiling Yoler and Dicko, still unsure if they were tricking him or not, approached the cabin door, paused, and then went inside.
THE END
Read on for a free sample of White Flag Of The Dead
1
“Ugh.”
“How’s that?”
“Ugh.”
“Come on ca
veman, your son is calling you.” My wife of six years poked me in the ribs and pushed my feet off the bed. In the background, soft music played through the monitor, indicating that Jake, our son, was awake and had activated the toy.
“I’m too tired to play daddy today. Get someone else.” I groaned, rolling over and burying my head in my pillows.
“Move it or we’ll never play at making another one,” she threatened.
“Empty threat. I’m too good for any woman to give up cold turkey.”
Ellie grabbed my pillows. “Fine. How about it’s your turn since I got up at 2?”
I rolled out of bed and lay on the floor. “I’m nothing if not fair.”
The words “Have fun.” floated over the bed and down to my ears as I started my morning routine of pushups and sit-ups. I barely felt them anymore, since I had been doing them since I was a kid. But habits are habitual, and it woke me up in the mornings.
I walked down the dark hall, feeling very much like a zombie. I am sure I looked it, too. But things needed to be done, and as the wife said, it was my turn. 5am was waaaay to early for anything, let along getting up from a very sound sleep. Jake, my five-month old, was wiggly and wanting to move out of his crib. He was just learning to sit on his own, although he couldn’t push himself to a sitting position yet. He rolled all over creation, and dragged himself along in an attempt to crawl. We thought he was the greatest thing, being new parents, but even we were surprised at how happy he was all the time, and what an easy baby he was, if judging by the grousing my brother did about his kids.
“Hey, buddy.” I said stepping over to his crib. Jacob had activated his plastic fishbowl, which had alerted us to his state of wakefulness. Jake looked at me and smiled through his binky, swinging his arms in excitement. How these little guys remained so cheerful all the time was a mystery me. If I could bottle it I would be rich.
I picked him up and headed downstairs to make a bottle for him, since Ellie was not breast feeding. She had tried, but it just seemed to not be in the cards, so here we were, spending lots of money on formula. I didn’t blame Ellie, how could it be her fault? She felt bad enough as it was, since she believed she was not getting that special “bonding time” that so many people say is so important. On the plus side, it allowed both of us to have some special time with the little guy, so we enjoyed it for what it was.
Ghostland (Book 2): Ghostland 2 Page 19