The Civil Dead (Dark Season IV)

by Amy Cross

  My mother is quietly furious that I was out all night again. She pulls me aside and demands to know where I was. I consider telling her the truth, but I decide that wouldn't go so well. "Relax," I say. "I was just out partying, taking drugs and having unprotected sex in inappropriate places". This shuts her up long enough for me to give her the slip and go to meet some of the people who have turned up for the funeral.

  I talk to Sharon, my dad's girlfriend, and she tells me that my dad was always talking about how much he wanted to invite me out to LA to visit. That sounds pretty typical of my dad: always talking about things, but never quite managing to get around to doing anything about it. If he'd lived another ten years, he'd probably still have been always planning to invite me and arrange things, but would never have got around to actually organising things.

  "It's lovely here," says Sharon, looking around at the cemetery with its green grass and hillside view of the city. "Very spiritual".

  "Do you really think my dad would want to be buried here?" I ask.

  "Of course," says Sharon. "Why not? Look at it, it's lovely. How could anyone not want to be buried here?"

  "Hey," says a voice from behind. I turn to find Shelley and Rob have turned up. "I have no idea if it's appropriate for us to be here," Shelley says. She leans closer and whispers. "And I think we're still a bit drunk from last night. Does that matter?"

  "I don't think so," I say, giving her a hug.

  We walk across the cemetery to the spot where my father's ashes are going to be buried. I wanted to scatter them somewhere, but it's been decided to bury them, and no-one listens to my opinion anyway.

  "How was the haunted house?" I ask Shelley.

  "Creepy as hell," says Rob.

  "We heard a door creak," says Shelley. "All by itself".

  I'm about to say something witty and sarcastic when I spot a familiar face in the crowd of mourners. Wearing a smart grey suit, Adam has turned up. We make eye contact for a moment, before I look over at the little hole in the ground where they're going to bury my dad's ashes.

  "Don't you think it's wrong to bury ashes?" I ask Shelley. This is something that's really bothering me. I just can't see that this is the kind of thing my father would ever have wanted.

  "It's bollocks," Shelley says.

  I turn to Rob. "What do you think?"

  "It's a bit weird," he says.

  The priest puts the ashes on a small table and starts to speak. I nudge Shelley in the ribs and get her to follow me around the back of the crowd. With everyone focused on the priest, I grab the urn and we walk away quickly, breaking into a run as we head off. It's a little late, but I think I've finally found a way to show him that I'm a good daughter. Sure, he's dead now, but I'm giving him what I know he would have wanted.

  "What are we doing?" asks Shelley.

  "We're staging an ash-napping," I say. "Come on!"

  We start running, away from the cemetery and into the forest. They're all going to be so mad when they find out I've stolen my father's ashes, but the truth is: I knew my father as well as any of them ever did, if not better, and I know that he'd want his ashes scattered somewhere. In fact, I know exactly where.

  There's no point trying to argue with my mother, or with Sharon. They want things to be done properly. They think it would be wrong to not bury my father formally in a cemetery. They're completely deluded, and I'm not going to let my father be buried in a little box in a boring cemetery when I know exactly where he'd really want to be.

  Shelley, Rob and I head down to the river. This is a place where my father used to bring me and my brother. He said it was where he used to play as a kid. As we reach the river bank, I turn to see that not only have Shelley and Rob followed me, but Adam and my brother have also come. Right about now, there's probably a huge fuss at the cemetery as they desperately try to find the ashes and realise with mounting shock that I'm not there. They'll put the clues together and realise I'm the one being the ash-napping. But fortunately, they won't know where to look for us. They won't have a clue.

  "Who are you?" asks Shelley.

  I turn to see Patrick standing close by, watching us. He's keeping his distance from the group, but he's here.

  "He's a friend of mine," I say, unable to quite believe that he's shown up. I never expected to see him today, never in a million years did it even occur to me to hope that he'd come.

  "He's hot," Shelley whispers, clearly interested.

  "He doesn't say much," I say.

  "Does he need to?" she asks. "Look at him. I wouldn't mind if he never said a word, as long as -" She stops. "Sorry," she says. "Bad moment. We'll talk later".

  I turn and open the lid of the ashes jar. I look inside and see a load of grey powder. Wow. So that's what they turned my dad into. That's what they burnt him down to become. There are a couple of white lumps in the powder, which I assume must be bone fragments. It's so weird seeing him like this, part of me wants to hang onto the ashes, perhaps put them in my room. But no, that'd be totally macabre. The only people who do that are little old ladies who can't let go of the past.

  I can let go of the past.

  So, tipping the jar upside down, I watch as the ashes fall out and scatter on the breeze. It seems appropriate to do it like this, and it also seems appropriate that my mother and Sharon are probably squabbling like crazy back at the cemetery. Shit, I'm going to get into a lot of trouble for this, aren't I? But who cares? Some of the ashes settle on grass, but most fall into the river.

  "Bye dad," I say quietly, under my breath. I don't think anyone hears me.

  There's a respectable pause as we all consider the fact that my father is dead. Then, eventually, Shelley breaks the silence by leaning in and whispering to me. "Are you seeing the hot guy? Like, dating him?" she asks. "Or can I have a go? 'Cause I don't want to step on any toes or get in the way of anything. Are you and Adam serious? I don't understand, are you seeing both of them?"

  I open my mouth to reply -

  "Never mind," says Shelley, sounding disappointed. "He's gone".

  I turn to see that she's right. But he was here, albeit briefly, and that means something. Slowly, I start walking back to the cemetery with Shelley, Rob, Adam and my brother. We have a lot of explaining to do, and a lot of pretty angry people to placate. But really, everyone should be happy. They didn't need the ashes for their little ceremony, an they can still bury the box if that's what they want. I just think my father would be happier knowing his ashes have been scattered into the world rather than put in a little box and buried underground. I know that's what I would've wanted. And I think my father and I were pretty similar.

  I don't regret a damn thing.

  Epilogue

  The dinner table is set, and all the candles are lit throughout the house. The doormen have been put in position, and the maids have spent the past week cleaning. The smell of cooking is wafting through the house. Workmen are upstairs, making sure that there's no way anyone can open any of the wrong doors. And as darkness falls for the final time, I take one more tour through the banqueting hall.

  After all, everything has to be perfect for the arrival of our guests.

  I stop at the window overlooking the garden. In the pitch blackness outside, I see the three lights have taken up their usual place, awaiting their chance to feed. Whether they will get their chance, though, remains to be seen. After all, our guests tonight are rather special. But I have reassured the lights that they will not go entirely hungry.

  "Where shall I put these, miss?" asks a young maid who comes over to me with a large bunch of flowers. The stupid girl should not even be talking to me. She has no idea of how etiquette works. I calmly take the flowers from her.

  "I will arrange them myself," I say.

  "Very good, miss," says the maid, bowing and turning to leave.

  "Wait," I say. "What is your name?"

  She turns back to me, fear etched across her face. "Muriel," she says timidly.

  "Hello Muri
el," I say. "I have a job for you". I glance out the window. The lights are watching. "I need you to go to the bottom of the garden and bring up some carrots for the pot".

  "Yes, miss," she says, seemingly relieved. She steps out through the back door and heads down to the bottom of the garden, straight towards the lights. After a moment, I hear the faintest of screams.

  I go through to the kitchen. Everything is coming along wonderfully. Cook has prepared a marvellous meal that is sure to provide the foundation for a wonderful evening, and the finest wines have been brought up from the cellar.

  As I watch everybody scurrying about, preparing for the grand banquet, I cannot help but marvel at how wonderful the house looks. It has been so, so long since we had an event on this scale. Indeed, it has been many years since we had any visitors at all.

  But now they are coming!

  Finally, they are coming!

  All four of them! And they will be here soon. In fact, their journey has already begun, on the long road that will bring them here, to us.

  They are coming to Gothos.

  NEXT - DARK SEASON V: THE LIFE, DEATH, LIFE, LIFE AND DEATH OF MARTIN KELLER

  Sophie learns about a mysterious vampire hunter named Martin Keller who vanished twenty years ago. At first she worries that Patrick might have killed him, but then she discovers that Martin Keller is alive and well, and working on a secret project...

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