Death Said No

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Death Said No Page 5

by Talia Mason


  Stepping closer Gracie shone the beam of her torch at the point where the pipes disappeared through the ceiling and at the edge of her torches beam she noticed something hanging from the ceiling above the centre of the well's covered opening.

  Redirecting the beam of the torch onto the dangling item Gracie realized that it was a winch that was attached to a hook in the ceiling via a length of chain.

  Although grateful for the winches existence Gracie was filled with a sense of dread at the thought of having to carry buckets of water up the cellar stairs to the kitchen above or for that matter having to heave them up from the water at the bottom of the well.

  As she turned to go back up stairs to investigate where the other end of the pipe may lead Gracie noticed another feature to the room.

  There was a hole in the wall that was partially covered by two doors that had been left open.

  Drawing in closer to get a better look Gracie recognized it as a dumb waiter, a small elevator that held a small barrel with a clip on lid, and guessed that it must have been used at some point to transport the water that had been drawn from the well.

  Although this new find was welcome Gracie still held out hopes that she would find a fully functional pump somewhere in the kitchen or scullery.

  Stood in the warmth of the kitchen, outside the pantry door, Gracie tried to figure out where the pipes would come up through the floor.

  “If the stairs turn partway down and then face into the cellar that is directly beneath us then that means that the pipes either come up behind the range or somewhere in the scullery beyond it.” Gracie said to the cat that had been sat washing his paws on the kitchen table and had stopped to eye her suspiciously in the torchlight as she went to the door by the range that, she knew from her earlier search of the house, led to the scullery.

  The wall that backed onto the range was covered by built in cupboards and Gracie went along the wall opening and closing all of the doors, shining her torch into each of the revealed spaces.

  The first was filled with cleaning supplies, buckets, mops, brooms and a vacuum cleaner and the second housed shelf upon shelf of linens and towels.

  It was when she opened the third cupboard that she found what she had been looking for.

  Opening the cupboard door revealed a large rectangular water tank that exuded heat with two pipes coming through the floor beneath it, one to turn and disappear beneath and behind the under counter cabinets.

  The other pipe stopped at shoulder height with the top foot or so widening out to twice the width of the rest of the pipe with an arm sticking out towards her and pipe coming from the bottom of widened portion to turn downwards and attach to the top of the tank.

  Grabbing a small set of folding steps from the cleaning cupboard Gracie unfolded them and stepped up to get a better look at the pipe at the top of the tank.

  At the top of the pipe was a ball with a ring on top of it where a pump handle might be secured with a pin but it was the top of the tank that caught Gracie’s attention, for it had a small viewing trapdoor that was secured by the turning of a wheel.

  Pulling one of the dish towels from the linen cupboard she used it to turn the wheel on top of the tank before flipping it open warily in case there was still any water inside the tank to create steam.

  She was met by the scent of dry heat, it rose up from the tank to tickle at her nose and burn her sinuses, showing her that the tank was empty of water and may have been unused for some time.

  Closing the hatch and again using the towel to turn the wheel and lock the hatch closed Gracie stepped down from the steps intending to search the cellar for something to serve as the pumps makeshift handle when she noticed something long thin and slightly curved at either end shoved behind the pipes.

  Training her torch on the item and reaching down the side of the tank, being careful not to touch its hot surface, she grasped what she believed would be the pumps handle with the towel.

  Pulling the item out she was proven right as by torch light she examined its slightly hooked end that split into two, each with a hole in them that held a nut and bolt that would secure the handle to the ring on top of the pump on the pipe.

  Scrambling back up the steps she span the nut until it came free of the bolt and then after balancing her torch on top of the tank to illuminate what she was doing she slotted the handle in place and used the nut and bolt to secure it.

  The pump handle was incredibly hard to move at first but after a few pumps became easier and by the fifth or sixth she was rewarded by the loud hissing sound of water hitting the base of the tank.

  With each pump and splash of water going into the tank she could gage by the sound what level the water was at and when she believed it to be three quarters full she stopped pumping and followed the course of the other pipe that ran behind and beneath the cabinets under the counters and sink.

  Retrieving the torch Gracie went to open the cabinet beneath the sink and found the boxing around the pipe turned upwards to run behind the sink itself.

  Closely examining the splash back behind the sink Gracie discovered that it was separate and stuck out further than those behind the counters.

  After running to the cellar and fetching a small crow bar from the shelf of tools she carefully prized off the tile covered board to reveal a slightly smaller version of the pump above the hot water tank with its pump handle and spout removed.

  The incompleteness of the pump irritated Gracie no end, it made no sense that if those who had disassembled the boilers pump had kept all of its parts together they would then dispose of parts of this one.

  Out of this thought led the next.

  Inspiration struck her, perhaps as they had boarded up the pump they had left the parts in its casing and as much of its casing was beneath the sink perhaps the missing parts may be too.

  Laying the torch in the base of the cabinet with its beam trained on the boards over the pipes Gracie crawled into the cabinet, prized free the board, and revealed the pipes.

  Tucked behind the pipes for the old pump and the more modern taps was the handle for the pump and the foot long, slightly curved spout.

  In her excitement Gracie forgot that she was on her hands and knees in the cupboard and going to sit back too rapidly banged her head on the counter above.

  “Shit” Gracie hissed, rubbing her head as she turned to catch the cat watching her curiously.

  As the cat watched she fixed the handle in place and came to the spout that she discovered just slotted into two grooves in the pumps casing before she began to pump the handle.

  This pump worked a lot quicker and easier than the one for the hot water tank and soon had water splashing into the sink below its spout, much to the annoyance of the cat that in its curiosity had climbed up onto the counter by the sink to better see what Gracie was doing.

  The sound of boiling water came from the tank behind her and Gracie could not help longingly thinking of a nice hot bath.

  Remembering the large wash tub in the cellar that she had been planning to fetch up to the scullery to wash her clothes Gracie decided that even though it were not a real bath tub it would have to do, it was possible that she wouldn’t be the first to use the tub for bathing.

  In her grandmother’s childhood years it had been common for the family to take their weekly bath in a tin tub before the fire, a practice that would sadly have to be resumed.

  Going into the kitchen Gracie slid closed the damper on the range using the fire tongues that hung from a rack on the wall by the fireplace to divert the heat from the tank at the rear of the fire and back out into the room.

  It took some great effort to drag the tub up from the cellar to the kitchen and by the time that she got it there she was cursing and swearing and was certain that she would be keeping it in the scullery from now on and not taking it back down to the cellar only to have to repeat this struggle the next time that she needed to use it.

  After quickly running back down to the cella
r for the washing utensils that had been with the tub and a wooden clothes drying frame, that her grandmother would have called a clothes horse, Gracie went upstairs to the family bathroom and collected toiletries, towels and a clean wash cloth from one of the cabinets.

  Wrapping her selection up in one of the towels to make them easier to carry along with the torch Gracie hurried down the stairs and dumped the heap out onto the table before pushing the tub under the tap at the end of the ranges front and turning the lever with her sleeve pulled over her hand.

  As the tub filled Gracie brought her back pack from the sitting room and pulled out the plastic bag wrapped parcel of clean dry clothing and a box of tall thin candles and set them on the table along with the cigarette lighter.

  Once the tub was half full and she had turned off the tap on the ranges water tank and Searched the houses various rooms for candle stick holders, finding two on the mantle in the sitting room and another four in the dining room, two on the long highly polished mahogany dining table and two on a sideboard against the wall.

  Slipping the candles into the holders Gracie set them around the room before lighting them with the lighter that she had also brought with her from her raid on the shop.

  The kitchen was now filled with the soft glow of candle light making the beam of the torch surplus to requirements so Gracie turned it off to preserve the power of the batteries.

  The scalding hot water that gushed from the tap had been hot enough to steam up the large warm kitchen and not wanting to wait too long for the water to cool Gracie went to the scullery, taking a candle with her to place on the counter by the sink and cold water pump, and grabbed a bucket from the cleaning cupboard.

  She pumped cold water into the bucket and carried it into the kitchen to dump into the tub.

  Six buckets full later the tub was full and cool enough for Gracie to have her bath and Gracie blew out the scullery candle with an exhausted breath and returned to the kitchen.

  Setting down the bucket Gracie stripped off her clothes and dropped them item by item into the bucket before wrapping herself in a towel and grabbing shampoo and conditioner from the table.

  As she washed her hair over the side of the tub Gracie considered if it might be possible to attach a hose to the cold water pump so that she wouldn’t have to cart buckets back and forth.

  Even if she bathed in the scullery in future it would still make the job of filling the tub much easier.

  Wrapping her hair in a second towel she gathered her bath things from the table and pulled a dining chair up to the tub to lay them out on before discarding the towel that she had been wrapped in over the back of the chair and lowering herself into the hot water.

  The tub was big enough for her to sit in comfortably if she sat cross legged and its sides came up to her shoulders so that she could lean back quite comfortably without worrying about the water making a puddle on the grey slate tile of the kitchen floor.

  “Well if anybody might have suggested that one day I’d be bare ass naked by candle light in the middle of a stranger’s kitchen I’d have thought they were mad but I would have thought the same if they had warned me that there would be a zombie apocalypse but here we are.” Gracie said to the cat as he sat on the edge of the table eyeing the tub warily.

  Once she was clean and once more wrapped in the towel Gracie took up the bucket of her dirty clothing and dumped them into the tub, not wanting to go to all the effort of bailing all of the water out with buckets and carrying it all to the sink to be poured away just to have to go to all the effort of refilling it again.

  Rummaging through the kitchen cupboards Gracie found a jar of instant coffee and a stove top kettle that she took to the scullery to fill from the cold-water pump.

  Months had passed since Gracie had last had a cup of coffee and as she sat watching her clothes soak in the tub and sipped from the mug of strong brown liquid, she realized how much she had missed it since her shiny chrome electric kettle had ceased to work and become completely useless.

  When she had drank the mug of coffee she dressed in the clean clothes and set to work, with the posser and dolly, agitating the dirt from her clothes before scrubbing them on the wash board and then attaching the mangle to the side of the tub with its vice grips so that she could wring the water from her clothes.

  Standing the clothes horse by the side of the range, she hung her wet clothes over it to dry in the ranges heat and set to work bailing water from the tub and pouring it down the kitchen sink.

  Feeling strange taking over a stranger's house Gracie considered what she should do next.

  “ We'll get rid of this lot and then have something to eat” Gracie said to the cat who seeming to understand at least part of what she had said perked up and began to prowl back and forth across the length of the table.

  “And I think we should give you a new name as I don’t know your old one and I can’t keep calling you cat.” Gracie said causing the cat to meow.

  “OK, Cat it is then.” Gracie said.

  Gracie threw all of the equipment into the tub and dragged the tub into the scullery before going on a hunt for food for herself.

  With the promise of food the cat had begun to weave around her legs, nearly tripping her twice as she walked the span of the kitchen and opened the pantry door once more.

  .“Well that’s you sorted.” Gracie said grabbing one of the cans of cat meat from the open pack at the top of the stack that she had found earlier.

  Ignoring the cats mewled demands that she hurry Gracie perused the assortment of tinned goods on one of the upper shelves in the hopes of finding something other than baked beans or spaghetti hoops, the pitiful diet that had sustained her for the last few months.

  Right at the back of the shelf Gracie found a can of Irish stew.

  Whilst she had never been a fan of tinned stews it beat baked beans so she took that and the cat food back to the kitchen noting that she would have to dispose of the spoiled contents of the row of fridges and freezers as she passed them.

  Once both Gracie and the cat had eaten Gracie picked up the torch once more and went back down into the cellar in the hope of finding lamp oil and wicks for the old oil lamps that she had seen around the house so that she could preserve her supply of candles.

  She found no sign of either and suddenly Gracie began to see a downside of being so far away from the village and the resources its many varied shops could provide.

  A few days ago the need for something would just mean a quick dash through the gardens and alleys to the shop around the corner.

  Now the need for an item would mean she would have to cross miles of fields and travel through the centre of the village as the majority of the shops where at its opposite end.

  This would mean using some form of transport that could possibly attract attention from the undead or the living... if there were any of the living left in the village.

  Gracie nervously thought of the range rover parked on the drive outside the front door.

  She had never learnt to drive and had never felt the need until now, having always used public transport if her needs were beyond what the village’s shops could fulfill.

  Another potential problem that occurred to Gracie, as she returned to the kitchen table, was the need to refuel the vehicle once the tank became empty.

  The streets were filled with all kind of vehicles so there was fuel available but getting to it would be risky with the undead potentially lurking around every corner.

  “I’ll need some sort of pump, I suppose.” She said to cat who stopped washing his nether regions to glare at her for the interruption.

  Gracie yawned, The heat in the kitchen after so long getting her only warmth from coats and quilts was making her sleepy despite the fact that she had only been awake for a few hours.

  After checking that the doors were locked, closing and securing all of the window shutters and adding extra wood to the ranges fire box Gracie dragged herself up the stairs and spra
wled fully clothed on the huge king sized bed.

  The bed was soft and welcoming and before long Gracie drifted into dreams of her old life of mobile phones, refrigerated foods and being able to wonder freely down the street without the risk of being attacked and eaten by a reanimated rotting corpse.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The cat’s paw prodding her in the face awoke Gracie.

  “Go away.” Gracie groaned, shoving the cat off the bed and pulling the quilt up over her head.

  She was just drifting back off to sleep when a sharp pain in her foot brought her fully awake.

  “You little bastard” Gracie shouted as she launched a pillow in the cat's direction.

 

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