‘Contact imminent,’ came his father’s flat voice through his earpiece.
‘Copy that, Jackal one. Over,’ Stephen replied, while ahead of him, the vehicle carrying Staff Sergeant Blackmore pulled up to the large external gate of the Convent.
One by one, the convoy came to a stop behind the lead Jackal, waiting for the living within the Convent to make their move. Surprisingly, the gate had already started to open slowly.
‘Idiots,’ Steve said sadly to himself, as he watched a man frantically winding a winch to open the gate for them, unaware of what he was letting into his home.
Once the internal gate had also been opened by their welcoming host, the three armoured Jackals pulled into a practiced formation within the convent’s grounds.
‘No, Damian!’ Came a woman’s hysterical cry from along a walkway that ran the perimeter of the high wall.
Looking up at the middle-aged woman, he could see her waving her arms at the man as she ran towards a ladder.
‘Perhaps they’re not all idiots after all,’ Steve thought to himself. ‘This one knows trouble when she sees it.’
‘Take up positions,’ came their order through the earpiece.
Like a choreographed dance troop, the soldiers disembarked their vehicles and smoothly going down on one knee, their assault rifles cocked and aimed, formed a tactical wide arc.
‘No!’ screamed the woman from the walkway, as she threw herself down from the ladder and ran over to a group of small children, desperate to protect them.
Behind him, Steve could hear his father removing his helmet. Showing the locals a human face behind the armoured façade was a proven way to gain trust and Staff Sergeant Blackmore was always one to use all weapons at his disposal.
‘Now there’s no need to worry, Miss,’ he began, the sincerity dripping from every word.
Steve briefly glanced to his left, catching Matt’s eye. They both knew there was every need for all those living here to worry but they could do nothing about it. Their fates were sealed, one way or another.
‘I’m Staff Sergeant Blackmore, and my men and I are here to help you. You have nothing to fear from us,’ he continued. ‘We’re here to rescue you.’
However, his words did little to put the woman at ease. Steve could see it in her eyes; she didn’t trust this man offering her salvation from the Dead.
‘Stand down,’ his father said and slowly each of the men rose to stand in a purposefully relaxed looking stance; their rifles now aimed safely to the ground.
Suddenly a second woman burst from a doorway and ran to stand by the woman with the children, putting herself noticeably in front of one of the boys in particular. She was quickly followed by two men, one of whom ran with a pronounced limp.
‘What do you want?’ the second woman asked, fear and apprehension shaking her words.
‘Look,’ his father began, ‘perhaps you should gather everyone together and I’ll explain. We’re here to help and …’
‘Look out!’ the first woman shouted, interrupting him as she pointed behind them.
Turning quickly, Steve could see the Dead woman from the road had clung on to the underside of one of vehicles and was now dragging her shattered and broken body towards the living she knew were so close. Reaching for the leg of the nearest soldier with her bloody broken fingers, a low hungry moan echoed through the courtyard. Then with a loud bang, a shot was fired from behind him, fragments of the Dead woman’s skull and brain spraying across the ground.
‘Thank you,’ said Staff Sergeant Blackmore, forcing a cold smile while he slowly replaced his pistol into its holster. ‘Now is there someone in charge here, a leader?’
‘At the moment that would be me,’ came the soft voice from the aged looking nun who had appeared standing in the doorway stoically. ‘I am Sister Josephine, the Mother Superior of Lanherne Convent and you and your men are welcome here. But may I suggest you let us close those gates before we’re over run by the Dead.’
‘Of course, Mother Superior,’ Blackmore said, nodding to the old woman. ‘We’ll just position one of our vehicles outside and bring in our Med lab in its place… with your permission of course.’
‘Of course,’ she replied, her own forced smile mirroring Blackmore’s.
‘This woman knows the score,’ Steve realised.
She had clearly assessed the situation and quickly realised it was better to invite them in rather than risk any bloodshed. Her group were powerless against such a group of armed men and she knew it.
‘Nicky, Sally, take the children to the refectory will you, please,’ she said calmly, not taking her gaze from the soldier in front of her, ‘Bryon, William, would you please round everybody else up. I think the Sergeant will want to fill us in on what’s been happening in the outside world.’
***
The small group of survivors had spent most of the day digging graves to bury their dead friends. They had known and loved these people and as a group had agreed, they would not leave their corpses just to rot. They might have met their ends in violence, but they would be put to rest with respect and dignity. They owed them that much. So, with their breath pluming in the still chilly morning air, they had begun to dig the thirteen graves for their lost friends. Shifting the near frozen earth had been hard going, but they endured their aching muscles in silence.
‘Sorry, old friend,’ Patrick whispered, as he and Phil lowered Ryan’s large corpse into his shallow grave.
The three from Lanherne could say nothing. They knew, all too well, no words of comfort would be adequate to ease this grief. These Dead, who to them had been nothing more than the animated corpses they dealt with every day, had lived, fought, laughed and been loved by Patrick’s small group of survivors, for them only to be then snatched away by the random hand of fate.
As a group, they reluctantly decided that the Substation could no longer be a home for them. This place would hold too many ghosts for them now and they simply had to move on. So once the graves had been dug and their lost put to rest, they set about the task of salvaging what they could to take with them.
Duncan had immediately gone to work with his tool set salvaging what he could from one of the Substation’s carts that had been damaged beyond repair by flying debris.
‘We’ll take the three intact wheels,’ he had said, examining the wreckage. ‘They can be strapped to the other cart.’
‘Do you want us to bring these?’ Sarah asked Imran, pointing to a collection of spades, forks and hoes.
‘I think we should fill up with more essential stuff first and then if we have room, we can take them,’ he replied, glancing at one of the carts already nearly full. ‘We can always get them on another trip if we decide we need them.’
‘But this, we can take with us now,’ he continued, picking up a small, wicked looking scythe from the pile and swinging it through the air. ‘Nice.’
‘Yeah okay, Captain Hook,’ Sarah said, taking the scythe carefully from Imran. ‘You’ll have someone’s eye out, waving it about like that.’
‘Sorry,’ Imran said, feeling like a scolded child.
They decided to take as much as they could with them this time, but with limited space in the two available carts and with ten adults and a baby to house, there would still be many useful odds and ends left behind for a second trip. The livestock was proving tricky though, to not only catch but also the logistics of their actual transport. The Substation had lost their stud boar and one of the sows to the Dead, as well as four of their almost adult piglets. Luckily, one of the breeding sows had been in the stable with her new litter when disaster had struck; otherwise, they might have lost the lot. The chickens, as scrawny as they were, would also be a welcome addition to the flock at Lanherne, but they seemed reluctant to being caught and even as Imran and Sarah spoke, Gabe and J-Man were comically chasing them round the compound.
‘Open the hatch, will you,’ J-Man said to Gabe, the squawking hen he was holding by her feet flappin
g her wings frantically in his face. ‘Wish we could just leave these behind.’
‘You’ll be grateful we took them with us when you want a bit of meat, believe me,’ Phil called over. ‘They might not look like much now but Sister Rebecca can work wonders with any scrawny old carcass.’
‘Well, she’ll have her work cut out with this mangy lot,’ Gabe said quietly, pulling his hand quickly away from the pecking beaks of the already collected birds.
By the early afternoon, the group had packed the two carts with as much as they were physically able. With the assortment of useful odds and ends, food stores, a crate of chickens and the sow with her piglets, the ten human passengers were certainly not going to have a lot of room on their journey but it wasn’t as if they had much choice. The group had debated back and forth, whether the sow should simply be towed along behind one of the carts, like Flo, the extra mare, but in the end, they knew it was better to spend a little time squashed up against the beast, rather than risk losing her to hungry Dead hands.
‘It’s not going to be the most comfortable of rides,’ Phil said to Patrick, as he pulled the last rope tightly around the blanket covered crate that contained the four piglets, ‘but at least we’ll be back at the Penhaligan place before it gets dark.’
‘Look,’ Patrick said, staring up at the large man who had helped save his family, ‘are you sure we’re going to be welcome at Lanherne? I mean, you just came to see if we were alright and thank God that you did, but now you’ve ended up with seven more mouths to feed. We could always just take over the Penhaligan place.’
‘Are you crazy?’ Phil replied, jumping down from the cart roof. ‘There’d be hell to pay if I didn’t come back with you. To be honest, since that business with the Reverend, we’re a bit thin on the ground and what with all the children, the number of fighters to dependants is way too low. I hate to admit it but we may need you more than you need us.’
‘Thought I’d better check,’ Patrick said, slapping Phil on the back, ‘didn’t want to put anyone’s nose out of joint by just turning up, uninvited, you know?’
‘You’ll be welcome with open arms, believe me,’ Phil continued, as the two men walked over to the stable. ‘In fact,’ he continued after a pause, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Liz eventually suggested you take over Charlie’s role.’
‘What?’ said Patrick, stopping.
‘We need a real leader, Patrick,’ Phil said, turning to face the man who was obviously born to the job. ‘It hit everyone real hard, losing Charlie like that. He was the tough son of a bitch glue that held us all together. Imran and Liz are great and he taught them really well, don’t get me wrong, but they’re still not much more than kids themselves. I can see it in their eyes whenever the group defers to them to lead the way. They’re both terrified by the responsibility of having so many people’s lives in their hands.’
‘But they’ve done a good job so far?’ Patrick asked.
‘Absolutely,’ Phil replied, nervously scratching his beard, ‘but you can’t be thinking about not upsetting people when there’s a job to do.’
‘What about you, Phil? You seem to know the score. Why don’t you step up instead?’ Patrick asked.
‘What, a big old Nancy boy like me?’ asked Phil, smiling. ‘No, I’m just the muscle that gets the job done. I’ll leave the tough decision making to those with the brains.’
Patrick thought Phil was selling himself short but didn’t say anything. Like oil on water, a true leader would always rise to the surface whenever a group was really threatened. He knew Phil, Liz and Imran had inadvertently formed a formidable council of leaders between them without even knowing they were doing it. He hoped Liz would leave it a while before broaching the issue of him taking a more leading role in Lanherne, if only for the sake of the existing members of Lanherne. He had only met most of them a few times and if they were to look to him in any sort of leadership role, he would have to win their trust and respect first. The last thing he wanted was to cause unrest or bad feelings.
‘Well, let’s just see how it goes,’ Patrick said, pushing open the stable door.
Inside, Helen was bundling up Jasmine in one of the horse’s blankets while Sarah did her best to assure Chloe her bloody broken fingernails actually looked worse than they were.
‘Right, ladies,’ Phil began, ‘are we ready for the off?’
‘Yep, I think we’ve got all we can carry on this trip,’ Helen replied, picking up her sleeping child, while the other two women nodded.
‘Thanks again,’ she continued, reaching up to gently kissed Phil on the cheek, ‘I owe you and Imran more than you can possibly know.’
Looking down at the baby that Helen held protectively in her arms, Phil could make a pretty wild guess.
‘Just get in the cart, I am immune to your womanly charms, wench.’ Phil laughed, thumbing towards the Substation cart hitched up with Shadow.
‘Damn.’ Helen laughed and playfully slapped Phil’s arse as she walked past him.
It had been decided that Gabe and Chloe were to travel with Duncan, Phil and Imran in the Lanherne cart, while Patrick, Helen, J-Man, Leon and Sarah would follow behind in the cart being pulled by Shadow. They had played ‘rock, paper, scissors’ as to who would have to take the adult sow in their already full cart. Lanherne had lost, much to the enjoyment of Patrick.
Gabe snaked his arm across the cramped cart and stroked the irritated beast’s ear to calm her down.
‘Shh, it’s alright, everything’s alright now… Shh,’ he cooed to the distressed sow that silently flopped down to take a nap.
‘You’ve got the knack there,’ Imran said, nodding down at the big sow already calm enough to be drifting off to sleep.
‘Right, this is it,’ Phil called from the front seat as he watched Leon un-padlock the gate and swinging it open. ‘Time to say goodbye.’
As soon as the gate had opened fully, Leon ran back to his cart, clambering quickly into the back. With a flick of Delilah’s reins, Phil guided the cart smoothly through the open gate. Swearing as it then bumped over a few of the scattered corpses, Phil soon let Delilah’s powerful strides fall naturally into their own steady rhythm. Their short journey to the Penhaligan home had begun and only time would tell what new life awaited them all.
Gabe moved one of the spyhole covers aside so he could watch their departure from the Substation. The pylon that had been more than a haven for him over the last eight months, through it and the group that had made it their home, he had been brought back to humanity and given a chance to live. When he pushed one aside for Chloe, the girl silently shook her head. This place was dead to her now. It had become another shell, full of disappointment and death, just like everywhere else in this Dead world. Even though she knew the Lanherne community lived in safety behind their high stone walls, what had happened on the Pylon had proven to her that nowhere was really safe anymore. The Dead would always find a way in, one way or another.
***
Sitting in the Refectory, the adults of Lanherne had subconsciously positioned themselves to form a barrier between the children and the soldiers who stood at one end of the room. The four armed soldiers stood to attention, motionless. Only their eyes scanned continually back and forth across the gathered survivors, looking for trouble.
‘Well, you certainly have things set up well, Mother Superior,’ Blackmore said, as he entered the room with Sister Josephine.
‘We had no choice if we wanted to survive,’ she answered, her tone measured and calm.
She knew she had to tread carefully with the man if she wanted all of them to come out of this alive. He had assured her that they had come to Lanherne purely as part of an on-going civilian rescue program, but something about this man told her he was not to be trusted.
‘Ah, I see your little flock has been gathered,’ he continued, nodding to the assembled group. ‘Is this everyone who lives here?’
Sister Josephine looked at the group that she had come to
think of as her family. Apart from Imran, Phil and Duncan, everyone was there. It was then that she noticed that Liz was missing from their number.
‘Stay hidden, Liz,’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s a fox in the hen house.’
‘Yes, we all seem to be here,’ she said, moving over to sit next to Richard who stood protectively in front of Nicky and Jason. ‘Now, I believe you were going to tell us, Sergeant Blackmore, where you have been and what’s happening in the big outside world?’
Staff Sergeant Blackmore looked blankly at the old woman who had just lied to his face. Of course, she wasn’t to know he had watched the cart leave yesterday and knew some of their group were absent.
‘Right, for those of you who haven’t heard, my name is Staff Sergeant Blackmore and I am here with my squadron and a group of medical personnel, seeking out the small communities who have managed to thrive in these difficult times.’
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Damien interrupted, ‘In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been dying out here.’
Everyone turned their attention briefly to Damien, murmuring their agreement with his sentiment. Alice was the only one who had kept her eyes on the Sergeant and what she saw flash across his eyes when Damien spoke, froze the blood in her veins. Clearly, this man led his men through fear and intimidation and was not used to being spoken to like that. In that briefest of moments, Alice could see he wanted to teach Damien a very painful, if not fatal lesson.
‘Damien, let the Sergeant speak,’ Alice quickly added, hoping to diffuse the situation before Damien ended up in a pool of his own blood.
Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) Page 10
