Mindless Trilogy (Book 3): Brutal Truths

by Oldham, S. P.

  There was an awkward silence. Lavender’s eyes flicked back to the man who had led them there, suddenly distrustful. She was ready to grab Carson, whether he liked it or not, and get out of there. The silence lengthened.

  They all cringed as a rain of hail, far harder than the first, began to pound the container. The noise inside the metal can was deafening. For the first time, Lavender noticed there was someone else present. A small figure, barely discernible in the far corner. She neither moved nor spoke but held her hands to her ears at the racket, casting a wide-eyed glance Lavender’s way as if remonstrating with her for bringing the hailstorm with her. In the doorway, fair-sized bullets of hail began to gather, rolling together noisily. Lavender took a step further inside, unwilling for one of the spiteful little bullet-like spheres to hit her.

  The man relaxed, casually throwing down the crow bar, its landing muffled by something soft absorbing the sound.

  “Sit everyone,” he said loudly, over the din, “no one’s going anywhere until that stops,” he nodded his head outside.

  Carson sat where he stood, following the instruction immediately. Lavender chose a spot near a wall and sat down, resting her back against the cold, hard metal.

  “Meet the gang,” the man smiled, talking to her, “I’m Joel, these likely lads are Drums, Corcoran and Evan, behind them is Yasmin and over there in the corner, if you squint you might see her, is Naomi. That’s us; who are you?” The question was to all intents and purposes a friendly one, but there was an edge to Joel’s voice that made Lavender wary.

  “I’m Lavender,” she offered begrudgingly, “and this is Carson.”

  “It’s just the two of you?”

  Lavender debated lying, making out there were others out there looking for them, but she thought better of it.

  “There is now, yes,” she replied honestly.

  Joel eyed her more closely, “I get it,” he nodded sagely, “this whole business has been tough on all of us,”

  Lavender grimaced a response. Outside, the flurry of pounding hail subsided, making conversation a little easier, though she had no idea what to say. Why had she followed Joel so readily? She wasn’t sure she wanted to keep company with anyone anymore. Everyone she had taken up with since the shit hit the fan had died; except Carson.

  “Do you have any food?” One of the boys asked eagerly.

  “It’s Corcoran, isn’t it?” Lavender said, “Sorry to disappoint you but no, we’ve got no food. I was hoping you would have some,”

  “That’s one good thing about the apocalypse,” Joel piped up, “A sure-fire cure for obesity!” He laughed at his own joke. There was a half-hearted response from the boys. Lavender sure as hell didn’t find it funny.

  “You ever see a fat zombie?” Joel asked her, suddenly serious.

  “I’ve seen every size and shape of zombie there is,” Lavender retorted, her patience with Joel growing thin, “Every kind of human turns into every kind of zombie, after all,”

  “True,” Joel agreed, “You ever seen the kind that looks like it’s working things out?”

  “Thinkers?” Lavender sat bolt upright, immediately alert, “You’ve seen Thinkers around here?”

  “A few, yeah,” Joel answered, “Not for a while though,”

  “Did you ever kill one? A Thinker, I mean?” Yasmin asked her, pushing her way through the boys to sit closer to Lavender, looking at her with interest, as if she was some kind of alien, newly-landed.

  Lavender nodded, her expression grave, “You could say I’ve taken out one or two,” she told the girl. Turning back to the group, she added, “but tell me; when did you last see one?”

  Gone Fishing

  “We see undead round here,” Joel answered her, “What you call Thinkers, we see them too. Last one was the day before yesterday. I’m surprised you didn’t come up against any yourselves?”

  “We did. Of course we did, how could we not? But we keep a low profile as much as we can these days. No need to fight if you can just slip away unnoticed, right?”

  Joel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, “We’ve done more than our fair share of fighting,” Lavender added defensively. She felt suddenly exhausted.

  “But you didn’t just walk in here?” the boy called Drums asked, a look of trepidation on his face.

  “Not exactly, no,” Lavender conceded, “we had a little excitement along the way. Why so surprised?”

  “Not surprised, worried!” He said frankly, “He keeps telling us this yard is secure,” He cast a look at Joel, a note of accusation in his voice. Lavender saw the others exchange looks discreetly, “tall fences and a gate on three sides, the cold sea on the other. Unless zombies pilot boats these days, we’re safe, supposedly,”

  “We’re safe,” Joel said firmly.

  “She got in!” Drums pointed at Lavender.

  “Yes, but she’s not a zombie, is she?”

  They fell silent again, a few eyes flicking to Carson, who had said nothing so far. He was sitting cross-legged, a peaceful and distant look on his face.

  “Neither is he,” Lavender stated flatly, daring anyone to make the comparison, “He’s just stressed out, that’s all. God knows he’s seen some shit; done some too,”

  “Haven’t we all?” Joel said, his tone now placatory, “Look, let’s not get off on the wrong foot. There’s strength in numbers, right? Let’s see if we can help one another out,”

  Over in the corner, Naomi gave a small whimper, covering her face, just as the hail began its’ thunderous downpour a third time. Some instinct told Lavender that the girl’s reaction was nothing to do with the harsh weather.

  *

  The hail finally relented. Lavender felt her empty stomach growl and reckoned Carson must be ravenous too, by now.

  “We ran out of supplies yesterday morning,” she said, breaking the silence again, “How do you manage? Any tips on where to get something to eat around here?”

  All heads turned to Joel. Not for the first time, Lavender got the impression they were waiting for his permission to answer her. In the event it was Joel himself who replied, “Well, we’re by the sea. The jetty where I found you is a good place for crabbing, even fishing sometimes, though that doesn’t yield as much usually. If you go inland just a little bit there’s a common where the wild rabbits look like they’re trying to take over the world now man has got out of the way, but they’re not so easy to catch, truth be told. There’s one or two other things we do, too,” he said, though he didn’t elaborate.

  “Right. Well I think I might try my hand at crabbing maybe, or fishing. Do you have any equipment I could borrow? Whatever I catch I will share, of course,”

  “The boys will come with you, you’ve done enough wandering with no one watching your back I reckon,”

  “Don’t trust me to bring your gear back?”

  Joel smiled, “Maybe your friend would like to stay here?” He nodded over at Carson.

  “By way of insurance against a fishing rod?” Lavender was becoming annoyed.

  “No, because he looks exhausted, that’s why. Like I said, let’s not get off on the wrong foot. He’ll come to no harm here,”

  Lavender was torn. She would get much more done, more quickly and with less stress, without Carson. But he was growing ever more vulnerable. She worried he wouldn’t cope with being left alone in the company of strange people. He might panic if he couldn’t find her nearby.

  Her fears showed plainly on her face, because in his next breath, Joel said, “Evan and the girls will stay behind, only Drums and Corcoran will come with us,”

  “You’re coming too?”

  “Naturally. You didn’t think I was about to let you just wander now, did you, a girl like you, out on her own?”

  “I’ve managed just fine out on my own for quite a while now, Joel. I’m not the helpless little girl you seem to think I am,” she snarled, regretting coming here. She hauled herself up, “I think
we’ll just be on our way,”

  Joel rose too, “Now hang on a second. Look, I didn’t mean anything by it, okay? I just meant that you look like you could use a bit of support, that’s all. If I caused any offence I never meant to. Come on, are you really going to turn down a meal and some bona fide living company over a misunderstanding?”

  “There isn’t a meal yet,”

  “And there won’t be if you leave now,”

  Lavender considered. To her dismay, Carson had lain down, curling up into a foetal position. He was fighting unsuccessfully to keep his eyes open. Joel stopped, picking up a large hessian sack, which he draped over the man.

  “Best we’ve got to keep us warm,” Joel explained, “They’re itchy and coarse but you’d be surprised how cosy they can be. Soon get used to them,”

  Lavender swore inwardly. The last thing she wanted right now was to upset Carson and try to wrestle him away, even if she could. As if to remind her of what might happen if she tried, her blackened eye began to throb, a threatening headache lurking behind it.

  “Okay, we’ll stay a while,” she said ungraciously. She really had no other option.

  *

  She hadn’t appreciated how much warmer it had been inside the container until she stepped out of it. She shivered violently, wishing she had another layer to put on. She made a note to call back into the one she and Carson had slept in last night, to retrieve the tatty old blanket and the few meagre belongings she still owned. They might come in useful somewhere along the line.

  She mentioned her intentions to Joel and the boys brusquely, heading to her container without waiting to see if they followed or if they had even heard her. Once there, she snatched up the faded denim backpack she had found discarded on a roadside, along with the ragged blanket, which she wrapped about her shoulders, tying it at the front. She turned to find Joel watching her, a look of disbelief on his face.

  “You slept in here? At ground level? Unarmed? Are you crazy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You would have been trapped like rats if anyone had come looking,”

  “But they didn’t,”

  “They might have!”

  “According to you this place is impregnable!”

  “To zombies, yes. There are other dangers out there, you know,”

  Lavender shivered, this time not because of the cold. She recalled the psychotic killer that had once taken a shine to Carson, leaving a trail of violated bodies in his wake. It seemed a long time ago now, but the memories of those corpses stayed with her.

  “Like who?” she asked, straight out.

  Joel shrugged, “No one in particular,” he mitigated, “I’m just saying, that’s all. You were vulnerable. I thought you were supposed to be street wise?”

  “I am!” Lavender declared hotly, aware it sounded childish. She amended her tone, “It felt safe when we got here. My instincts are usually pretty good; they’ve got me this far. Besides, we were exhausted last night. It’s not a mistake I would usually make, okay?”

  Joel shrugged again, “Whatever. No skin off my nose.”

  “Where are the boys?” Lavender asked, realising they were not with Joel.

  “They went to get the crabbing gear,” Joel said, a humourless grin on his face, “It’s one thing lending you our stuff, but I’m not about to show you where you can steal it from,”

  “Right,” Lavender said, pushing her way past him in the doorway, “What was that you said about getting off to a good start? Why don’t you just keep your gear in the container with you?”

  “You ever tried sleeping with the stench of crab and fish in your nostrils?”

  The boys, Corcoran and Drums, were already on the jetty, digging equipment out of another hessian sack; they seemed to be in plentiful supply. Lavender was surprised to see that they were using real nets, the kind kids used to play with at the seaside, attached to the end of long bamboo poles. There were also two buckets: one large and heavy-duty looking, which Drums was currently filling with sea water, lying on his belly and dangling his arm into the water to do so. The other bucket was smaller, complete with lid.

  Joel saw her looking the equipment over.

  “There’s a sandy beach a few miles down the road, used to be popular with holiday makers,” he explained, “We grabbed these from one of the sea front shops. You know the ones; flip-flops, buckets and spades, ice-creams and all that,”

  Lavender had a vivid flashback to a day out at the beach when she was a kid. Rather than cheer her up, it soured her mood still further, “Didn’t think to pick up a windmill?” she asked sarcastically.

  Joel chuckled; the first natural sounding laugh she had yet heard from him, “You’re a piece of work,” he said, “Here, grab a net, earn your keep.”

  *

  As they crabbed, Lavender took the time to examine her new company more closely. Drums looked to be about seventeen. He was strong-looking, with wide shoulders and muscled forearms, but he had the awkwardness of many teen boys who had not yet quite grown into themselves. Corcoran was much the same. Though his frame was slightly smaller he was a fair bit taller than both Joel and Drums, with a lanky clumsiness.

  “So why ‘Drums?’” Lavender asked out of nowhere, ignoring the memory of how annoyed she used to get at explaining the name ‘Lavender Gin’ to strangers.

  They all looked at her, but it was Drums himself who answered, “Well I’m a drummer, aren’t I?” He said, an incredulous tone to his voice, as if Lavender should have known without asking.

  “Are you?” Lavender replied, “Any good?”

  “I used to be, bit out of practice now though,”

  “Right. Not much call for drummers these days,” Lavender sympathised, “You’re just plain old Corcoran?” she turned to the other boy.

  “Boring I know but yes, that’s me,”

  “No first name?”

  “No,” the boy said flatly, “So how about you? Are you really Lavender?”

  “Lavender Gin actually,” she said.

  “Let me guess,” Joel interjected smugly, “Favourite colour, favourite drink, right?”

  “Right,” Lavender agreed, unwilling to explain further and wishing she hadn’t broached the subject.

  There was a lull in the conversation as both boys caught a crab almost simultaneously, Drums declaring himself winner because his prize was the larger. They dipped their hands into the smaller bucket, threw something into the nets and lowered them once more into the water.

  Lavender raised her net dubiously, examining the small grey chunks that floated there. She lowered it back into the sea. “So, what are we using for bait?” she asked nonchalantly.

  She thought there was a subtle change in the atmosphere, but she couldn’t pinpoint how or why. The boys remained focused on their work. It was Joel who turned to her and said, “Nothing exciting, just some rotten food we found too late to salvage, that’s all,”

  Dinner Guests

  They came away with eleven crabs of varying size in all, though it had taken much of the day to do it. They had to run for cover from hailstorms twice, and by the time they started making their way back to the container, the ground was covered in a peppering of white balls of ice. It made the climb up slippery, but between them they managed to carry the bucket of crabs safely back. Drums disappeared to return the equipment to wherever they kept it, whilst to her surprise, Joel climbed onto the container roof. It wasn’t long before the unmistakable smell of burning filled the air, Joel evidently managing to light a fire. The aroma of cooked crab soon joined it, filtering down into the container. A while later, Joel gave a shout, handing down a steaming tin that had once contained biscuits, judging by the faded lettering around its circumference. Corcoran reached up to take it from him, a scrap of hessian from yet another of the sacks acting as oven glove.

  Joel dropped down from the roof and came to join them as they ate. As she fiddled with the food,
the shells already prised open, Lavender indulged in a moment’s reflection. Carson had been awake when they had returned from their little crabbing expedition. He had been chatting comfortably with Yasmin, who seemed to find him fascinating. Lavender had felt an irrational flash of jealousy at seeing the girl with him, telling herself not to be stupid; she was barely sixteen if looks were anything to go by. She glanced over to the corner. Naomi still sat there, hugging herself quietly, ignoring the dish of crab that had been placed in front of her. She began to wonder if the girl had problems. Something in her eyes, something about the way she held herself, reminded her of Carson. It was an unwelcome thought.

  Opposite her, Joel picked up a large plastic bottle of clear liquid. He unscrewed the lid, took a mouthful, then passed it round. When it reached her. Lavender saw that it was only water, stale, but nonetheless drinkable.

  She was about to ask how her companions ended up surviving together as a group, when a sound from outside made her blood run cold.

  The rest of the group heard it too; she saw it in their expressions. Joel turned to the youngsters, raising his finger to his lips and murmuring “Shh,” softly. It was an unnecessary gesture; they were all deathly quiet.

  It was a sound Lavender knew all too well. One she dreaded.

  Moaning; a hollow, somehow fathomless sound that carried on the cold, dry air and seemed to echo around the container space. Lavender strained, zoning in. More groans, accompanied by a wheezing, sucking noise like someone gasping for air. Then something like a growl, only lower in tone and a good deal more threatening. More noises: a high, forced sound like air pushed through a minute hole. Carson shuffled closer to her, took her hand and squeezed it. She felt a rush of gratitude; perhaps somewhere in his increasingly confused mind, he recalled when they had stood united against such horrors. She squeezed gently back, hoping to reassure him in turn.

  There was more than one of them outside. Lavender realised with a start that the sounds belonged to several undead. She glared at Joel through the increasingly gloomy interior.