Star Drawn Saga (Book 2): Lost Among The Dead

by Stephen Charlick

  With barely any resistance against the wickedly sharp blade, the moaning corpse’s forearm dropped, unnoticed by its owner, to the ground; instantly reduced to nothing more than a lump of useless rotting flesh. No sooner had his right hand completed this action than the blade in Tom’s left hand was moving, arching up to intercept the taught grey tinged skin of the creature’s neck.

  ‘Kill it, kill it!’ his lost daughters giggled in unison from beyond their graves, seconds before the creature’s head tumbled from its shoulders and Tom moved on to greet the second cadaver eagerly reaching for him.

  Unlike the first Dead man, whose milky eyes impotently still followed Tom’s every movement from the grassy verge where its head came to rest; this second corpse only had one eye left to start with. Having at some point lost its right eye, together with the upper eyelid and a strip of flesh reaching back across its scalp, exposing a section of yellowing skull, the remaining milky orb still burned with an unmistakable hunger. Yet even as he distantly took in the Dead man’s facial injuries he knew these were not the cause of this man’s ultimate degradation and in fact the large wound in its abdomen was likely more to blame. He could just imagine the poor man’s screams rising hysterically as he was forced to experience pain a thousand times greater than any man was built to endure; savage teeth and hands tearing wildly at his stomach, eagerly ripping through his skin and muscle to pluck free the bloody organs within. But how this man had finally succumb to the Dead and their unnatural hunger, did not really matter to Tom, not anymore. For the moment the last breath was expelled from his lungs, this man’s fate was sealed; he had become one of them. No longer a man, male or even to be referred to as ‘he’; with the failing of his heart his humanity had died with him and with its loss he had become nothing more than an ‘it’.

  ‘Take this one’s legs,’ his youngest daughter pleaded, her tiny spectral hands seeming to tug at Tom’s trouser leg for recognition. ‘Cut them off, Daddy… cut them both off. For me, do it for me, Daddy.’

  And with his smothering blanket of guilt wrapped about him, Tom willingly did as his lost child requested. His blades fell, swift and cleanly, and with their passing flesh parted, muscle tore and limbs fell. Yet even before this creature had landed face down in the road, awaiting its final demise, Tom knew nothing had changed, not really. For no matter how many of the Dead he sent into the dark embrace of true oblivion or how he rendered them limb from limb, pandering to the whims of his departed family, he knew nothing would ever change; not for him. For nothing could wipe away his guilt or clear his shame; he had failed those he loved when they needed him most and to compact his crime he had committed the ultimate sin of all, he had survived.

  And as the snapping creature at his feet twisted and clawed to reach him once again, it became in Tom’s eyes not just one more Dead man whose unnatural existence needed to be extinguished but a cadaverous poster boy for all of them; for all of those corpses that had ripped apart families and loved ones alike and for all of the abominations that cheated youth of their dreams and the old of a peaceful parting. So with the encouragement of his departed family whispering in the back of his fractured mind, Tom let slip his tenuous hold on his sanity and with a scream of pure rage burning in his throat he poured forth his hatred and boiling fury upon this thing that had no right to endure.

  ‘Die, you fucker!’ he spat, forcefully stamping down on the cadaver’s head; shattering its jaw and cheek bone with his first strike. ‘You ruined it, you fucking ruined it! You took them all! You fucker!’ he continued, tears of anger and loss streaming down his face as his cries punctuated each stamp of his foot. ‘You cunt! You fucking cunt! You ruined it!’

  Tom didn’t know how long he had stood over the ruined shell of the man, his shoulders heaving as he instinctively gulped down air to feed his burning muscles but as his mind drifted back to reality, like mist clearing on an autumn morning, he at last took in the destruction he had reaped upon the Dead man’s body.

  ‘Shit,’ he muttered, looking down at the mess he had made of the cadaver’s head.

  What little was left above the neck of the now motionless corpse had been reduced to a misshapen mass of stinking flesh and broken bone surrounded on the road surface by a splattered halo of dark putrid gore.

  ‘Oh… great,’ sighed Tom, lifting his leg to see that his boot and much of his trouser leg up to his knee was now covered in the dark fluids that smelled of rancid death.

  It was in that instant, as he looked disdainfully down at his filthy trouser leg, that he finally registered he could hear Fran’s voice. Looking quizzically back down the road to where Star patiently waited munching away at the tall grass on the side of the road, Tom briefly wondered if the two love birds had finally had their first argument. But then he heard her frantically shouting again and from her tone alone it was clear this was no ordinary lover’s tiff, something was happening; something bad. With this realisation Tom instantly broke into a run, sprinting back to the willow tree through which his young friends had disappeared; all the while trying not to give himself over to the murmuring voice of his wife whispering her demands for dark retribution from the hidden corners of his mind.

  ***

  Fran frantically clawed her way up the steeper opposite bank, desperately grabbing hold of clumps of weeds for leverage. It wasn’t until she felt Kai’s hands on her backside giving her a much needed shove, that she managed to at last breach the lip of the overgrown bank and finally get out onto the road to help whoever was in the upturned basket on wheels and the baby they had with them.

  ‘Hey!’ she shouted, waving her arms, trying to draw the attention away from the basket and the unseen crying infant within. ‘Hey, over here! Over here!’

  Hearing Kai grunt as he clambered up the bank behind her, Fran knew she had no time to wait for him and immediately broke into a run towards the wicker device and the cadavers that had turned their hungry gaze upon it.

  ‘Hey!’ she called out again to the hungry corpses, briefly stumbling as her bare foot suddenly came down on a sharp pebble. ‘Shit!’ she spat, quickly regaining her balance just as the cadaver dressed in the filthy priest’s cassock turned to look at her. ‘Yes, that’s it shit face!’ she continued, grateful that at least one of the cadavers had noticed her; her sudden appearance causing it to take its first shambling step towards her.

  Unfortunately its wild haired companion and the female corpse with the dark rotting shoulder wound were both clearly transfixed by the sound of the crying child and were already eagerly thumping their fists against the flimsy wall that separated them and their warm fleshy goal. The remaining Dead woman and the child’s corpse behind Fran were both far enough away that she need not worry about them just yet, but even as each of them made their own way to join their excited Dead brother and sisters in the hunt Fran knew nothing in a situation like this could be taken for granted.

  ‘Come on then, Father,’ Fran muttered, grateful for at least the comforting weight of the machete in her hand while she stood bare foot and clothed in nothing but her wet underwear as the Dead Priest advanced to meet her. ‘You need to get out of that thing and fight!’ she continued, this time shouting her words to whoever was in the wicker cage, all the while never daring to break eye-contact with the hungry Dead man in front of her. ‘They’re going to…’

  But before she could finish her warning the disturbing sound of wicker cracking and breaking could be heard over the wails of the hidden infant and the excited moaning of the Dead.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, do something!’ she cried, the blade of her machete already slashing through the air to meet the Dead priest’s outreached arm, while out the corner of her eye she saw Kai dart past; his own crowbar at the ready.

  ‘Fight or run!’ Kai shouted, continuing Fran’s warning, the urgency of the situation for once somehow overpowering his stammer just as the metal bar he held smashed into the knee caps of the wild haired Dead woman; sending her collapsing to the ground.


  Kai was about to move onto the second female corpse attacking the wheeled basket, its slowly rotting brain clearly oblivious to the pieces of wood that ripped and dug deeply into its grey tinged skin, when with a snapping sound it suddenly tore away a section of the wicker cage and reached in; causing an unseen woman inside to add her own terrified screams to that of the child.

  ‘No!’ yelled Kai, ignoring Fran’s advice to only go for the legs and instead instinctively bringing the crowbar smashing down on the back of the creature’s head, crushing its skull.

  ‘Kai!’ he heard Fran suddenly scream from behind him, the fear in her cry like a sliver of ice in his guts.

  Spinning to meet her eyes wide with fear, he almost missed the Dead woman at his feet reaching up a clawing like hand to grab hold of his leg. Noticing her just in the nick of time he automatically went to pull the crowbar free of other cadaver’s shattered cranium but in his haste Kai hadn’t noticed he had actually struck the killing blow with the hook end of the bar; unknowingly lodging it on a piece of broken bone within the brain cavity.

  ‘Shit!’ he gasped, realising he couldn’t immediately pull the crowbar free while just at that precise moment the Dead woman’s cold clammy hand latched onto the bare skin of his right leg.

  Kai knew he had but seconds before the Dead woman’s head snapped forward to take a bite out of his calf and with Fran still dealing with the Dead priest a few metres away, he knew this time he was beyond her help; whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it now or he would be lost to the army of the Dead just like everyone else. So with the only thought running through his mind being to put some precious space between himself and the Dead woman’s teeth, Kai abandoned the crowbar and did the only thing he could think of to save himself; he simply punched the creature as hard as he could in the face. Miraculously with his first strike he knocked the cadaver’s head to the one side just long enough for him to yank his leg out from its sickening handhold. He was about to jump back to be sure he was well beyond its reach when, with a surprising splintering and snapping of wicker, a long blade shot out through the basket wall just beside the cadaver’s head, piercing it in the temple just above its right eye.

  ‘Fucker!’ Kai absently heard Fran growl from behind him as she finally felled the Dead priest with a killing blow of her machete, while he watched whoever was hiding inside the wicker vehicle abruptly withdraw their blade from the head of the woman’s corpse, allowing it to fall lifeless and face-first onto the ground.

  ‘You… you can come out now,’ panted Fran, grateful that at least the unseen woman had stopped her hysterical screaming while she tugged free the machete from the skull of the crumpled body at her feet. ‘There’s…’ she continued, pausing to flick a piece of wet gore from her blade, her gaze flicking momentarily to the set of rosary beads still wound about the wrist of the nearby severed limb. ‘Only two left… you’ll be okay.’

  At the mention of the two remaining hungry cadavers, Kai glanced over his shoulder to the last of the Dead women shambling towards them and guessing he had about thirty to forty seconds before it was within touching distance, he returned his attention to retrieving the crowbar from the woman’s crushed head. Keeping an eye on the approaching adult cadaver at all times, he patiently twisted the bar back and forth; trying his best to ignore the sickening sound and feel of metal scraping against bone as he maneuverer it around the shard of bone locking it in place.

  ‘Look, you might as well show yourself,’ Fran went on to say to the unseen travellers, double checking behind her that the corpse of the child was still far enough away not to need bothering with just yet. ‘It’s not as if we don’t know you’re there… and… well, a thank you wouldn’t go amiss,’ she continued after a pause, becoming somewhat annoyed when the only sound coming from the large upturned basket on wheels was the continual wail of the crying baby inside.

  ‘Yes,’ muttered Kai, at last pulling his crowbar free from the cadaver’s cranium, inadvertently bringing shards of broken skull fragments and a good portion of the stinking brain matter with it. ‘I’m g…going to need another w…wash after this,’ he said, his eyes rolling as putrid dark fluids splashed against his legs.

  ‘Yes you are,’ Fran agreed, stepping over the priest’s now lifeless body, ‘but first you can deal with Madame here,’ she continued nodding to the final Dead woman who had at last closed the gap between them. ‘Legs and then head…remember?’

  ‘I r…remember,’ mumbled Kai, moving a few steps away so he could position his feet to put some power behind his swing.

  And as Fran watched him easily smash the Dead woman’s legs out from under her, she calmly walked over to the large basket on wheels, took hold of the arm of the female corpse still lodged half way in the hole it had made and with a tug pulled it free to land in a tangle of grey tinged limbs by her feet.

  ‘I said a thanks would be…’ she began to repeat, tilting her head so she could look in at the up-until-then unseen occupants but she stopped herself, the creaking of leather hinges as a door opened, halting her words.

  ‘Please,’ said the bearded young man, suddenly appearing from round the other side of wicker vehicle; a lumpy bag held out before him, ‘please, I’m sorry I hit him, I’m sorry… I… I just… I just needed the food… please, take it, you can have it all… please, just don’t hurt us, don’t hurt my baby!’

  Fran simply let her gaze drop once to the bag visibly shaking in the young man’s outstretched hand before flicking it back up to blankly meet his tearful eyes.

  ‘Please… take it and just let us go… please!’ he continued, his words full of fear as he gestured to the bag he held; the sound of the crying baby punctuating his pleas.

  From the wet thud behind her Fran knew that Kai had ended the Dead woman’s existence and as she waited for him to come and stand behind her she stood mutely looking at the stranger.

  ‘Get your stuff together,’ she finally said, nodding toward the basket contraption. ‘Get all of it… everything.’

  ‘No, please, my baby, please, you can’t…’ he began, his face paling at the thought of his family being exposed to the Dead out on the open road.

  ‘Oh, for Christ sake, look at us!’ chuckled Fran, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘We’re stood here in our underwear and we’ve just saved your arses from getting eaten. Do you really think we’re raiders? We would have just let Father Death here and his brides finish you off,’ she continued nodding toward the corpses now littering the road, ‘and then take your stuff afterwards. It would have been a lot easier, believe me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the man began to say, the sack dropping to his side as relief flooded through him and fresh tears welled in his eyes, ‘I thought…’

  ‘Yes… yes, I know. I’m sorry,’ Fran interrupted, wishing now that she hadn’t laughed, ‘look… you can’t use this thing anymore,’ she went on to say, tapping the man’s ruined woven shield with the tip of the machete, ‘it won’t last two minutes against another attack… so like I said, get your stuff together, you’re coming with us.’

  ‘Fran?’ said Kai, unsure she should so arbitrarily make this decision without at least discussing it with Tom and himself first, let alone deciding the fate of these complete strangers without even so much as an exchange of names.

  ‘Do you want the blood of that child on your hands?’ she calmly asked, her words offered to both Kai and the unknown man, who she presumed was its father. ‘Well?’

  ‘Fran, a b…baby? How are we…?’ Kai started to say before she cut him off.

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ she interrupted, stepping away from him to offer her hand to the stranger. ‘Fran… and the bloke behind me in his pants is Kai,’ she said, nodding to Kai as she made her introductions to the young man.

  ‘Mike,’ he replied, warily taking her hand, ‘Mike Watkins… how… how do I know we can trust you? I mean, you could be anybody… there are a lot of crazies about.’

  ‘Yeah, corpses gett
ing up and walking about can do that to a person,’ said Fran with a disarming smile. ‘But like I said what choice do you have, Mike? I guess you could rebuild that thing,’ she continued, nodding to the vehicle, ‘but how long would that take? And I think you know things can turn to shit pretty quickly out here… Look, even if it’s just until we find somewhere safe to drop you off… ’

  ‘Mike, she’s right,’ came a female voice, seconds before a tall woman with short red hair and piercing green eyes stepped into view; bouncing the crying baby against her shoulder, ‘we won’t last the day, not like this. We have to go with them.’

  ‘Sam!’ Mike started to protest before the woman continued speaking.

  ‘We don’t have a choice,’ she sighed, trying to hush the distraught child in her arms. ‘Stay here like this and we might as well finish her now,’ she continued, gesturing to her baby. ‘I won’t let the Dead have her, Mike. They won’t have her… not my baby.’

  ‘Sam,’ said Mike his tone softer this time, as his shaking hand reached out to touch the back of his crying child.

  ‘I’ll rather do it myself then let that happen,’ she went on to say, her emerald green eyes flaring with determination.

  For a moment Mike looked at the woman he loved and knew no matter what the risks, she was right; they had to go with Fran and Kai.

  ‘Okay,’ he whispered, softly stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, ‘we’ll go with them.’

  ‘Good, glad that’s sorted,’ said Fran, her eyes flicking briefly back to the Dead child now almost upon them and the imposing figure of Tom silently coming up behind it, his blades already drawn. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I’m freezing my tits off here… so we’re going to go get dressed… but we’ll need to get washed again first,’ she continued, looking down disapprovingly at her arms, stomach and legs that had been splashed with gore. ‘Our friend, Tom, will help you with your stuff,’ she finally finished, nodding over to Tom who was just using his twin scythes to decapitate ‘scissor style’, the shambling corpse of the Dead child; its small ruined body dropping to the ground.