The Dying & The Dead (Book1): The Dying & The Dead

by Jack Lewis

  The Savage leant on his spear. He didn’t seem perturbed by the scream, and he still stared at Ed’s face with more interest than Ed had ever been shown. It seemed as if he were a tourist looking at him through an inch of glass.

  “From the look on your face,” said The Savage, “I’m guessing you know James? I’ve got a good mind for faces and I’ve seen a version of yours before.”

  Ed wanted the sick joke to end, but he wasn’t in a position to make demands.

  “What do you want?” he said.

  “You’re Ed Furness, aren’t you?” said The Savage.

  Questions flooded Ed’s head but there were so many that he couldn’t choose a single one, and instead it felt as though his mind had been filled by a thick sludge. He tried to form words but couldn’t coax them out. Bethelyn seemed similarly confused from the way her forehead scrunched up.

  “You’re wondering how I know that, aren’t you?”

  There was another scream across the plain, this one so full of pain that it made Ed shudder. A woman was on the floor with six infected knelt beside her. Some chewed on her arms and legs and others ripped open her stomach with greedy hands.

  Ed still couldn’t form words. He knew that The Savage was playing some kind of trick, but at the same time he began to wonder where it was headed. Finally it was Bethelyn who spoke for him.

  “The question did occur,” she said.

  The Savage picked up his spear and put it back into the quiver behind his back.

  “Well,” he said, “It’s simple. I know who you are, because I know your brother.”

  Ed felt cold. He’d never met anyone who knew his brother before, save for the other residents of the island. James’s time on the mainland had always been a mystery to him because his brother had rarely spoken about it except to tell Ed how much he missed his girl. He was going to ask The Savage where they had met, when a different question struck him.

  “Wait,” he said, and sat up. “You said ‘know’, not ‘knew’. What the hell is going on?”

  Bethelyn’s eyes widened.

  “No fucking way.”

  The Savage folded his arms.

  “He said he had a little brother, but didn’t mention this place. James isn’t one for words,” he said.

  Ed shook his head. He wasn’t going to be taken in by this.

  “You’re lying.”

  “James Furness,” said The Savage, “Six foot tall. Sandy hair. Likes to pretend he’s the strong, silent type. That sound like him?”

  Ed opened his mouth wide but no sound came out. It was as though his brain had hit a glitch and refused to work. Part of him was trying to cling on to The Savage’s words for the hope they offered, but another part wanted to run and hide. Was James alive? How was that even possible? They’d all seen the parts of the ship that had washed up on shore, and that was proof enough that he was gone.

  But they’d never seen a body.

  He was going to try and speak when shouting came from across the plain. He looked across and saw that The Savage’s men had fallen in number until only three of them remained to fight the infected. It turned out that they hadn’t been as good warriors as Ed had first thought. Almost everything about The Savage and his men seemed to be an act.

  The three survivors left the battle and started running back across the plain toward Ed, Bethelyn and their leader. Some infected gorged on the fallen fighters, but the others, nearly thirty in number, walked across the plain and toward the group.

  Ed got to his feet. Behind him were the cliffs of Golgoth, and beyond the chalky slope was a sea that stretched out toward the mainland. Was James out there somewhere? Had he found his way to the mainland and started a life there? And if that was the case, why the hell hadn’t he tried to come back for Ed?

  “Your men,” said Bethelyn, and pointed.

  One of the survivors had fallen onto the grass. The other two, rather than help him up, had carried on running, and the fallen fighter was pounced on by three infected who probably couldn’t believe their luck.

  “Selfish bastards,” said The Savage.

  The Savage, without even looking back to the survivors who ran toward him, walked over to the cliffs. He stood on the edge, barely a foot away from the drop, and stared out to the sea. Then he turned around to Ed.

  “Do you trust me?” he said.

  “Not a fucking inch,” said Ed.

  “My ship is forty feet below. If we hit the water without getting knocked out, we can make it.”

  There was only two ways this could go. They either tried to fight thirty infected in a hopeless battle, or they followed The Savage, braved the sea, and then trusted him not to double cross them. Ed looked at the houses of Golgoth one last time. The place was lost to him now, and he had no reason to stay. Away from the island, though, was the mainland. Suddenly, Ed wanted to get there more than anything.

  Ed was going to reply to The Savage, but before he could say a word the man closed his eyes and leapt off the cliff. Bethelyn ran over to the edge and watched. Ed was too slow to see him fall, but he heard the splash as he hit the water, and the slapping sound was enough to make him wince.

  He joined Bethelyn at the cliff edge. He grabbed her hand and held it tight. The infected poured toward them, and for a second he wondered if they would be stupid and desperate enough to follow them into the sea.

  “It doesn’t look like we have any other choice,” he said.

  Bethelyn looked at him. Her eyes were wet.

  “Do you trust me?” said Ed.

  She nodded her head.

  For the first time in years, he trusted himself too. He saw light at the end of the maze and it was so bright that it hurt his eyes. James was out there somewhere. Ed was suspicious of The Savage, but something inside told him that the stranger’s words were true.

  He’d thought about leaping off the cliffs lots of times, but it was always with the idea of bringing about an end to things. Now it was different. His leap off the edge would mark his beginning.

  He gripped Bethelyn’s hand tighter.

  “Ready?” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  Ed counted to three in his head and took a running start. The pair of them leapt off the cliffs of Golgoth and fell toward the raging sea. He closed his eyes mid-flight and felt the wind rush over his face, and finally he felt alive.