Ghostland (Book 3): Ghostland 3

by Whittington, Shaun

  David then looked around the cabin, only just realising that it was just him and Yoler present. “Where’s mummy?”

  Yoler stood up and offered her hand to the young boy. “Outside, of course. Are you coming?”

  David smiled and took Yoler’s hand. The pair of them exited the cabin and could see that Gavin, Grace and Lisa were trying hopelessly to make a fire. Dicko was a few feet deep into the woods, with his back to everyone, having a pee, and Donald and Helen were coming through the trees to their left.

  “Mummy!” David yelled and ran over.

  Both mother and son hugged and Yoler looked at Helen and Donald with a smirk.

  She said, “Where have you two been? Have you been up to any funny business?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Helen laughed. “We were at the pond, having a wash.” She then bent over and sniffed David’s hair. “I think you’ll be taking a trip to the pond tomorrow.”

  “I’m okay,” said David.

  “It’s not up for debate,” Helen laughed. “Your hair’s beginning to smell a bit.”

  Grace, Gavin and Lisa Newton had managed to get the fire started, and Dicko emerged from the woods and mocked, “That’s cheating. You used a lighter.”

  “So?” Grace laughed. “May as well use it if you’ve got it.”

  “Try using two flints. In fact, I used two sticks once. Took me ages.”

  “It’s not a competition,” Lisa laughed. “But you win.”

  Yoler went over to Dicko and gave him a playful slap, asking if he was ready to go. He nodded.

  All Yoler and Dicko took with them, apart from their weapons, was one towel and some soap that would only last one wash. They said farewell to the small group and headed for the pond, eventually being swallowed up by the greenery.

  “When we get to the pond,” Dicko began, “the first thing I’m gonna do is strip down to my bare arse and go straight in.”

  “Are we still talking about the pond, Dicky Boy?” Yoler giggled.

  “Yes.” Dicko flashed Yoler a hard stare. “I told you weeks ago. We’re just gonna have to put up with handjobs from now on, now that we don’t have protection.”

  “Oh, you can’t beat the real thing, though.”

  “No, but unprotected sex is too risky.”

  “Just pull out when you’re near.”

  “I said no.”

  “Fine.” Yoler pouted her lips like a child and said with a smile. “Once you are clean then maybe I’ll nosh you off. You up for that?”

  “Well, it’s not gonna suck itself, I suppose,” Dicko laughed.

  “Fine, but I want you to return the favour.”

  “First things first.” Dicko pointed up ahead and both could see the trees thinning out. They had made this journey dozens of times and were about twenty yards from the pond.

  Over the last few weeks it had been a lifesaver.

  Thank Christ it was there.

  Chapter Four

  Not for the first time, Yoler and Dicko stripped to their briefs by the pond, ready for a freezing cold wash. It wasn’t so bad once they were in for a few minutes, but stepping into that water was the worst part of getting washed. David Willis cried when he had to get washed, but was getting better as the days ticked by. Dicko looked over at the other side of the pond. For weeks they went to that area to collect water, when they were staying at the farm.

  “You okay?” Yoler asked him. She was in a foot of water and could see that her male friend was staring into nothingness.

  Dicko nodded the once.

  “You thinking about Imelda and Simes?”

  “A little,” he groaned. “I was thinking about going up to the farm and having a look around.”

  “What for?” Yoler shivered as she ran the soap over her shoulders and chest. “The only thing that’s up there, since we dug out all the veg, is Simon and Imelda, resting in peace.”

  “Just fancied a walk around there.” Dicko shrugged his shoulders. “Take a trip down memory lane. I know it was short-lived, but that was the happiest I’d been in months.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No.” Dicko shook his head. “I’ll go alone.”

  “Okay.” Yoler had finished lathering her body and dipped herself in, up to her neck. “But don’t go inside. The farmhouse is still standing, but the fire’s probably weakened it and it could collapse any time.”

  Yoler walked out of the pond, shivering, arms wrapped around her chest. Dicko held out the towel and she took it.

  “We can’t do this washing malarkey in December,” she huffed. “It’ll freeze the piss out of us. We’ll end up with pneumonia.”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Dicko said with a snicker. “December is months away.”

  She passed him what was left of the soap, and the man in his forties waded through the bitterly cold water and washed his body and his beard and hair, with the rest of the soap. He dunked himself under and stood up straight so that the water came up to his nipples. After his quick wash, he returned to the grassy area where Yoler was getting dressed, and grabbed the towel off of the floor, his body shivering violently.

  Yoler looked down to Dicko’s groin area and laughed, “Cold in that pond, isn’t it?”

  “Piss off,” Dicko laughed. “Anyway, the next supply run we go on, we better come across some razors. That minge of yours looks like it belongs to a Yeti.”

  “Cheeky cunt.” Yoler sat down and began to put on her boots. “I’m doing okay, considering I haven’t waxed in a year. It’s not that bad. You’re just being defensive because...”

  Yoler had finished tying her laces and quickly stood up, picking up her machete. Dicko could see what she was looking at and quickly got dressed.

  Two of the dead had stumbled through the wooded area and were now on the other side of the pond. The two dead were burnt, as if they had been set on fire. Dicko guessed that they were part of the horde that turned up at the farmhouse all those weeks ago, or had somehow been involved in another fire incident.

  The dead already spotted Yoler and Dicko, but couldn’t quite fathom how to get to them. They seemed reluctant to step into the water, and by the time they realised that they could reach the pair of them by walking around the pond, Yoler and Dicko were already out and dressed.

  “I’ll get rid of them,” said Dicko, and pulled out his trench knife. “I’m going that way anyway.”

  “You’re going to the farm now?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “Okay.” Yoler sighed and said with a cheeky smirk, “I’ll see you later, Paul Dickson.”

  He managed a chuckle and said, “Dicko will do just fine.”

  Dicko casually walked around the pond to meet his two aggressors and removed them with ease. He kicked one over, making it fall, and stabbed the remaining one in the side of the head. Once the stabbed creature fell to the floor, Dicko placed his boot on the chest of the one that he had kicked over, stopping it from getting to its feet, and shoved his blade into its right eye socket. Once the blade was pulled out, he wiped it on the grass and put it back into its holster. He looked at the two bodies and decided to drag them into the woods on his way back, out of sight.

  He strolled through the cluster of trees and was out on a large field within a minute.

  He stopped walking and a small smile was produced. He looked at the farmhouse, but there was sadness behind that smile also.

  He made his way across the field and the memories came flooding back. His feet hit the incline of the hill and once he reached the top, he looked up and gazed at the burnt out place. He then looked to his left and could see the small barn and the drive where they used to park the Mazda.

  The car was still sitting there, burnt out. In front of him were the vegetable patches Yoler had worked hard on, although there was nothing there now. To his right were the two graves of Simon and Imelda. Thankfully the graves hadn’t been damaged by individuals or wild dogs. Even Imelda’s cuddly toy Lambie was still pr
esent by the cross.

  Dicko was feeling emotional and turned to look at the house once more.

  Despite what Yoler had said to him earlier, he was going in.

  Chapter Five

  Lisa Newton and Gavin were sat on the top step of the cabin and watched as young Grace and Helen were gathering sticks to make a little camp for David. What they didn’t tell him was that, like the huts before, his camp would probably have to be dismantled and used as firewood.

  “He seems to be a lot cheerier these days,” Gavin said to Helen, referring to the little boy.

  “I know.”

  Lisa smiled as her daughter, Grace, playfully ruffled the boy’s hair, and left the grassy area to go into the woods a foot deep to get more sticks and branches. She told Grace not to go in too deep, but they could all see in the woods for many yards. It was clear. And by the time winter arrived, there wouldn’t be a leaf left on any tree, and they’d be able to see danger coming from a long way away.

  “When I returned here with Grace,” Gavin continued, “he hardly spoke.”

  “He’s had a rough ride,” said Lisa.

  “When it was the ten of us,” Gavin spoke with a reminiscing smile, “the lad was in decent spirits. Then we were attacked and we all split up. Some of us died.”

  “Helen told me what happened during your absence. That young boy had lost his little friend and her father died as well.”

  “Simon,” Gavin said with a nod. “I only met him once. David had gone AWOL and Donald, Helen and myself went looking for him. He was at the pond where Simon, Yoler, Dicko and Imelda were.”

  Lisa cleared her throat and gazed at her daughter with sad eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, looking after my daughter.”

  “I know. A strange one that I bring her back to this place and you and Donald are here. Not sure whether it was luck or fate.”

  “My other daughter didn’t deserve the death she had. She was only fourteen, for Christ’s sake. I just wish I had the chance to bury her.”

  Gavin released a depressed sigh and placed his hand on Lisa’s thigh. “What you and your daughters went through should never have happened.”

  “And yet that bastard is still out there. That Hando character.”

  “There’s no justice in the world, is there? You killed one of them, Dicko and the rest killed another and chopped another man’s hand off, which probably killed him, but the leader escapes without a scratch.”

  The two continued to look in the direction of Helen, Grace and little David, and a silence covered them briefly. Grace looked over to her mum and gave her a wide smile.

  Gavin also smiled, but soon lost it and cocked his head to one side as if he had seen something through the trees. Not taking any chances, Gavin stood up and walked down the cabin’s steps.

  “Where are you going?” Lisa asked him.

  “I thought I heard something.”

  Gavin picked up a three-foot branch from the floor, despite having a knife in his pocket, and walked over to Helen, Grace and David, telling them to get back inside the cabin.

  “What is it?” Helen asked.

  “He thinks he heard something.” Lisa Newton approached the four of them and pulled out a knife and looked at Gavin. “I’ll come with you.”

  “But...”

  “I’m no stranger to violence, Gavin. I’m coming with you.”

  Gavin sighed in defeat and said, “Come on then.”

  He watched Helen, Grace and the confused little boy go into the cabin, and the pair of them reluctantly walked through the trees. It was clear enough, and the two could see ahead of them and to the side, but it was still eerie being in the woods, knowing that there was a presence near them, somewhere.

  The two of them never exchanged a word as they progressed deeper. Gavin was in two minds whether to just go back to the camp and keep an eye out, but then he released a gasp when a female appeared from behind a tree, like something out of a horror movie, and just stared at the two of them from around thirty yards.

  Gavin and Lisa stopped walking and Gavin held his hand up, letting the female know that they were friendly. The female began to walk backwards and seemed to be unsure of the two individuals.

  “It’s okay,” Gavin spoke up. “We won’t hurt you. We have a place not far from here.”

  “I know,” the female said. “I’ve seen it.”

  “Let’s talk,” Lisa decided to speak up, hoping that the presence and the voice of another female would relax the stranger. “My name’s Lisa, and this is Gavin. We’re just trying to survive, just like you. There’s a few more back at our place, including a little boy.”

  The strange woman had long dark greasy hair and was wearing sports attire that had seen better days. She looked confused and said, “You’re not people from the wagons, are you?”

  “The ... the wagons?” Lisa looked genuinely confused and the stranger could see this.

  “The meat wagons. You’re not with them, are you?”

  “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Gavin decided to take a step forwards and Lisa did the same. Gavin dropped the branch and raised his hands as a ‘I come in peace’ gesture and Lisa copied him. The woman now looked relaxed and sat down, against a tree. Lisa and Gavin continued to walk until they were near the woman. Lisa and Gavin decided to sit down, opposite the woman, and also had their backs against a different tree.

  The woman gave off a timid smile and announced, “I’ve been out in the countryside for a while now.”

  Lisa asked, “How long?”

  “Not sure.” The woman elevated her shoulders and thought for a few seconds. “A few weeks ... maybe. Sometimes a week can feel like a month, so I’m not sure.”

  “Have you always been on your own?” Lisa continued to probe and Gavin decided to keep quiet. He thought that she would open up better talking to another woman.

  “No.” The woman dipped her head with sadness and added, “I was with my husband and son.”

  “Oh,” was all Lisa could muster. She knew there was going to be a heartbreaking story that involved the woman’s husband and her child, and allowed the woman to pour her heart out in her own time.

  “We were walking along the main road. We reached an orchard and decided to pick some apples. We hadn’t eaten in three days, so when we came across this we were delighted. But then we saw a man walking along the road and he waved at us. He seemed friendly, just like you two, but then he pulled out a walkie-talkie, spoke into it, and a few seconds later a van or a truck came from around the corner. I think it was a large white Transit van, but for some reason people nickname them the meat wagons.” She shook her head and laughed at herself, realising she was going off on a tangent. “Anyway, this van pulled up and two men jumped out the back. My son was grabbed and another man clubbed my husband. They threw them into the back of the van and the man with the walkie-talkie ran after me, obviously trying to get me in the back of the van with them. I ran. I ran so hard, but I had no choice.”

  “Of course,” Lisa said, and could see the woman was becoming emotional. “You had to.”

  “That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Run away and leave my family behind.” The woman cried, “You know, I could hear my son crying as I ran away.”

  Lisa stood up, went over to the woman and crouched down and touched her shoulder. “If you’d stayed, you would have died as well.”

  “I know.” The woman wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. She then quickly stood up and brushed herself down. “You do realise what these meat wagons are for, don’t you?”

  “I can guess. I heard about them from another survivor, before my family were taken away. They’re cannibals. They take people and they eat them.”

  “Try not to think about it now.”

  “Just stay away from the roads,” the woman said. “And be wary of strangers.”

  “We’ve never come across anything like that,” said Lisa, and turned to Ga
vin. “Have you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “But then again, I’ve spent most of my time in the woods with my camp.”

  Lisa could see the woman was about to leave and asked her where she was going.

  “I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the woman said, “but I’m better off on my own.”

  The woman began to run away, further into the woods before Lisa could respond.

  “Come back!” Lisa began to yell. “At least let us feed you before you go!”

  “Leave it,” Gavin said and stood up straight.

  Lisa watched helplessly as the woman eventually disappeared. She shook her head and turned to look at Gavin.

  He said, “Well, that was weird.”

  Chapter Six

  He crept through the house with his t-shirt over his nose. The smell of burning plagued the house and he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up and shook his head. There was no point going up. Nothing could have survived the fire.

  He thought taking a walk in the place would ignite the few memories that he had, but he felt nothing. The memories that he had weren’t inside the four walls of this decrepit house, they were in his head. He sighed and walked through the living room and into the kitchen. He stepped out of the place and could see Yoler Sanders standing with her hands on her hips, and the machete tucked into the belt she had on.

  “I thought you were going back to the camp,” Dicko laughed.

  “I was just passing,” she joked. “Anyway, it’s boring back at the camp. It’s all washing clothes and making soup and filtering water.”

  “Has to be done.”

  “Yeah, well it bores the piss out of me.”

  Dicko lowered his head and shook it. “You know what your problem is, don’t you?”

  Yoler smiled. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Dicko walked over to the two graves and Yoler slowly followed him. He stood and gazed at Simon and Imelda Washington’s graves and began to speak.

  He said, “The trouble with you is that you’ve spent the best part of the year fighting, surviving and killing.”