Sleep, Think, Die (Book 2): The Undertaking

by Oldham, S. P.

  “Let’s just say we helped him out,” Lavender said cryptically, daring Magda with her eyes to say anything.

  There was a weighty silence. Lavender refocused on the road ahead. She was hopeful that they would be able to cover some decent ground before the car finally died its inevitable death. She swore loudly when she saw what was ahead.

  “Damn!” she said again, steering the car to the right, “It’s a dead end!”

  They saw she was right. They were broaching a small roundabout, flanked on all sides by solid buildings. There was no option but to turn around and go back the way they had come.

  “Waste of petrol,” Magda muttered under her breath.

  “Did you know it was a dead-end Magda? Did any of us? No? Then keep your mouth shut if you can’t say anything useful,”

  “You tell me to shut up one more time,”

  “And what?” Lavender challenged.

  “For God’s sake will you two just give a rest?” Mayhew said, exasperated, “You can argue and bitch all you like when we get back to base. Until then, how about you both shut up!”

  They travelled on in silence, the tension palpable. By necessity they were moving slowly. Now, Lavender noticed the headlights were dimmer, their rays not reaching as far or as brightly as they had been.

  Something was looming out of the darkness in the road before them. She sat up more fully in the seat, hunching over the steering wheel, squinting as she tried to make out what it was.

  By the time they were close enough to see, they were mere feet away. Lavender braked, scared to cut the engine. They all looked out on a bizarre scene.

  “What the hell?” Mayhew spoke for all of them.

  What looked to be two doors of differing size were leaning against a stack of hastily piled tyres. Each stack held the upright body of a child, strapped into place with electrical cable. Carson thought back to the missing electrical wires in the house. He immediately recognised the purple bow on one of the bodies. The other was new to him. Smaller than the first, this one seemed to be of barely more than toddler age. No way of guessing the gender this time, there was nothing obvious left to discern and no sick adornments placed in its hair. This child had also been naked from the waist down. Remnants of what looked to have been a plain white vest, now discoloured and tattered, clung to the tiny, disintegrating frame. Carson looked down, a wave of nausea washing over him. On the left foot, laces neatly fastened, was a black shoe, scuffed and worn.

  “Jesus!” he uttered in horror, “Jesus! Lavender, there’s a different kind of evil out there. A sick, twisted kind. This is the third body of a kid I’ve come across in two days,”

  “So what?” Magda interrupted, “The holocaust didn’t spare the kids Carson,”

  “I know that,” Carson snapped, “but I’m telling you, this is different. All three kids were wearing nothing other than a T shirt and a single shoe, and always on the left foot. You telling me there’s nothing significant about that? How many zombies do you know take the time to display their work like this?” He gestured to the spectacle beyond the windscreen.

  “You think there’s a psycho running loose out there?” Mayhew said, thinking aloud, “Well it’s another thing to worry about maybe, especially since whoever he or she is seems to want our attention, but if I’m honest it doesn’t surprise me. How many people must have lost their minds with all this shit going on? It’s enough to drive the sanest man crazy,”

  Lavender fought not to look at Carson, afraid he might see the concern on her face and guess at her doubts, “You think we’ve got a child killer on our hands?” She asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” Carson said thoughtfully, “All the bodies I’ve seen are well rotted, like they’ve been dead some time. Maybe it’s just some random nutter who likes something about dead kids. Who the hell knows?”

  “Who indeed?” Magda said, “But if they’re not his kills, why display them?”

  “Why display them at all, more to the point?” Mayhew said.

  “And even more to the point, what do we do about it?” Lavender asked.

  There was another silence, this one filled with doubt. In the end, it was Carson who spoke first, “Nothing. We do nothing. These kids are long dead. Whoever is guilty of this is human, that much we can be sure of. There’s no other species on the planet capable of doing something as sick as this. And whoever that human is, it’s not the kind of guy we want to join us, so we do nothing. Right?” He turned to the others for affirmation.

  “Sounds good to me,” Mayhew said, “Let’s get out of here, this place gives me the creeps,”

  “Agreed on that,” Magda said.

  “Me too,” Lavender said, “Let’s go,”

  That was when the awful scene burst into flames. An explosion from within the stacked tyres, flames engulfing the two small bodies, sending acrid clouds of black smoke billowing. The occupants of the car all started coughing. Lavender wiped at her eyes, watering at the stench and tingle of the smoke. She threw the car into reverse, backing up recklessly, praying she wouldn’t hit anything.

  Fresh Hell

  Now that she had some distance, Lavender could see that there was space to manoeuvre past the burning pyre, if she could just keep her vision clear when she got up close. Steering in a wide arc, she approached as fast as she dared, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, refusing to look at the spectacle again. It was only when they were safely past, upwind of the choking fumes, that she stopped the car, threw open the door and jumped out. She fell to her knees, retching and coughing heavily.

  The stench of the sewers still clung to her, mingling with the smell of the fire. She heaved, repulsed, reckoning Carson would never want to touch her again.

  She was proved wrong when he crouched before her, setting his hands on her shoulders gently, making her look up, “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Lavender lied, wiping her streaming eyes, “Are you?”

  Carson nodded his own lie, “You did well to get us past that,” he said, jerking his head back without actually turning around, “You must be exhausted. Want me to drive?”

  “You look done in too,” Lavender said, half-heartedly, hoping he would argue and insist on driving. She was exhausted.

  “I’ll drive,” Magda said, overhearing them, about to stride around to the front seat.

  “I’ll drive,” Mayhew said, cutting her off, surprising Lavender, “You’ve got the gun to consider,”

  He didn’t wait to hear her out. Lavender felt the air move as he stepped around her, then heard the heavy clunk as the driver door shut. Magda climbed in the passenger side, slamming the door pointedly as Mayhew cracked some lousy joke about riding shotgun.

  “Looks like it’s me and you on the back seat,” Carson smiled gently. Lavender remembered how much she loved the way his smile reached his eyes, when he really meant it.

  “This whole thing is pretty fucked up,” Lavender said, glancing back at the burning bodies.

  “I know,” Carson said, stroking her hair back out of her eyes, “If it makes you feel better, I think it must just be some wandering lunatic with a thing for dead kids. Let’s face it, there’s plenty of them to play with,” he said, then grimaced at his choice of words, “God, I didn’t mean it like that!” He hurried to explain.

  “I know you didn’t” Lavender assured him, “It’s strange though, isn’t it? I mean, if whoever is doing this is after sexual kicks, why pick such rotted bodies? It doesn’t make sense,”

  “Nothing makes sense anymore,” Carson said, “To be honest, I don’t even want to think about it too hard. Let’s get back, get some rest, regroup. That’s all we need worry about, right?”

  “Right,” Lavender agreed, taking Carson’s offered arm as support in standing, “You’re right, let’s go,”

  They settled into the back of the car, Carson putting his arm around Lavender’s shoulders. She relished his closeness, leaning into him and closing her eyes. She could face anything as long as she
had Carson.

  Mayhew turned the key in the ignition. The headlights dimmed more than ever, plunging them into near darkness. The engine gave no response. Mayhew tried again. The key clicked in the ignition but the engine did not spring to life. A third time, and this time the lights never even flickered, the engine remaining stubbornly dead.

  “Shit!” Mayhew said, “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “Once more, with feeling,” Magda said sardonically, “Now what, fearless leader?”

  Lavender’s eyes flicked open. She felt sapped of all strength, exhaustion beginning to win, but she wasn’t about to back down from Magda.

  Carson felt her body tense alongside his, knowing she was ready to leap to his defence. He held her back with a squeeze to her upper arm.

  “Magda, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll tell you what I told Lavender; it can wait until we get back to the base. Unless you feel now is the perfect time to iron out differences and grievances, with a wandering psychopath probably watching us as we speak, packs of wild wolves on the prowl and the odd zombie popping up here and there? Oh, and let’s not forget the delight that is a Thinker. Do you have anything constructive to say? Because all I’ve heard out of you since you picked me up is sarcasm and bitching,”

  Lavender looked up at him, heartened to see a little of the old Carson back. She bit back a smile and ducked her head.

  Magda looked surprised, even embarrassed, “I suppose it can wait,” she shrugged, “but we will have it out when we get back,” she spoke as much to Lavender as Carson.

  “Right, well now we’ve got that out of the way, what do we do?” Mayhew asked.

  “We could stay here, in the car,” Magda volunteered, “All the doors still lock and we can see who or what is coming from more or less three hundred and sixty to degrees,” she swooped her arm to take in the car windows.

  “This is a death trap,” Mayhew disagreed, “If zombies do find us, they’d get in here sooner or later; a Thinker sure as hell would, it’d just rip the door right off. While we’re sitting here we’re really going nowhere. Not only that, but whoever set fire to those tyres could just as easily put a torch under our arses too,”

  “We’d see him coming,” Magda said, waving the pistol meaningfully.

  “I think Mayhew’s right,” Carson said, “This is a death trap. At least if we’re outside we can split up, reduce the chance of us all getting caught together,”

  “You want us to wander the streets, at night, with nothing more than a pistol between us?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to cobble together some kind of weapon,” Carson said, “Lavender has always been good at that,”

  This time she did smile. He leant to plant a small kiss on her cheek.

  “Now that you mention weapons, I just realised I left mine behind. It’s in the house you picked me up outside, my sharpened shovel,”

  “You want to go back there?” Magda asked.

  Carson hesitated. He recalled the small body he had stumbled over, positioned before the front door; the same little corpse that was burning in front of him now. He shuddered.

  “Maybe that’s not such a good idea. I’m sure I’ll find something else,” he said.

  “We all need to find new weapons,” Lavender agreed.

  “Not all of us,” Magda said, once more waving the pistol.

  “You said yourself you don’t really know how to use that thing. Do you know how many bullets are left in it? It’s not going to last forever. If I were you, I’d find a second weapon too. In any case, it’s technically mine, not yours, since I found it,” Lavender said.

  Magda turned fully in her seat, glaring at Lavender. She proffered the pistol handle first, a dark expression clouding her features, “You want to take it from me?”

  “No but I do,” Carson intervened, slipping his arm from around Lavender’s shoulders and taking the pistol smoothly from Magda’s hand, “now, how about we all go find something decent to fight with, while it’s still quiet round here?”

  *

  “You call two burning child corpses and a hidden psycho quiet?” Mayhew asked, a grim smile on his face. He held up a placatory hand at Carson’s expression, “I know, I know; we don’t have much choice. Just trying to lighten the mood,”

  Carson nodded, “Right, let’s stick together and keep quiet,”

  “What’s the point?” Magda asked, still surly, “We’ve made enough noise to wake the dead, plus there’s a beacon burning for all to see! A bit too late to worry about discretion,”

  Lavender scowled, “I don’t know about you Magda, but I’m not planning on hanging around here. You might want to shut up and start walking,”

  Magda strode forward, her anger evident in her expression. She squared up to Lavender, easily dwarfing her, her ebony skin giving off a bright sheen in the light from the fire. Lavender stood her ground, staring fiercely up at her.

  “What’s that?” Carson said, looking away from the women, attempting to peer through the clouds of black smoke down the street, “I heard something,”

  The women paused, turning to face the way Carson was looking.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Magda said sulkily.

  “Listen!” Carson urged, “There it is again,”

  They all froze, straining to hear about the hiss and cackle of the fire. Lavender’s heart sank as she identified the sound Carson was talking about; a low, mournful groan. Subconsciously she reached out, touched a hand to his chest, bunched the fabric of his tatty shirt there.

  “Run!” She hissed, shoving him backwards roughly, “All of you; run!”

  They turned as one and started sprinting. Up ahead, the figure of a man loomed out of the shadows and ran ahead of them, lost to sight when it took a sudden turn and disappeared down a darkened lane. Relieved it was not a zombie closing in from the other side, Lavender ignored it and redoubled her efforts, pulling Carson along by the hand.

  Magda threw a look over her shoulder, to see what they were dealing with. She gave a loud exclamation, “God almighty, what the hell is that?” Against their better judgement, the others all paused to look.

  Emerging from the clouds of vile smoke, was a zombie. More correctly, it was two zombies, but attached; the one as much a part of the other. The greening, pustulent form of what had once been a woman led the way, crawling madly on her bony hands, a rictus grin on her face, lank hair swinging wildly. Behind her, her once human partner still held her by the hips, her near-skeletal legs locked around his waist. His fingers had sunk so deeply into her abdomen that her entrails had begun to twist around his wrists. His mouth was open wide in a wet, spluttering roar, crazed, red-eyed glare fixed firmly upon them.

  “Well I’ll be damned!” Mayhew said in an awed whisper.

  “We’ll all be damned,” Lavender said, unable to look away, “Has anyone ever seen anything like that before?”

  “Like what?” Magda sneered derisively, “Like two zombies still at it even though they’re out to eat human flesh? No, can’t say I have!”

  “Whatever, we need to keep going,” Carson said, his turn to grab Lavender by the hand and yank her backwards. Lavender began to run, keen to get away from the monstrosity.

  Carson stopped dead, Lavender slamming into him. “Carson! What are you doing?”

  She stepped alongside him to see what had made him stop. She saw him raise the pistol and fire, the bullet going wide.

  Two more zombies, approaching from the other side.

  Carson raised the pistol and fired again, this time sending a bullet glancing off the shoulder of one of the undead; a man, easily as tall and as broad as Carson. He tried to fire again but nothing happened.

  “Damn it!” Carson swore.

  “Two shots wasted!” Magda shouted, “you might as well have just thrown the thing at it!”

  Carson looked down at the now useless pistol, shrugged and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the approaching zombie right between the e
yes, sending it rocking for a second. Behind it, the second creature was fast approaching. It appeared to have been a teenage girl, though there was nothing of innocence or potential left in its grotesque features anymore.

  Lavender flicked a backward look. The double-zombie was drawing closer, the she-zombie grabbing madly with outstretched hands each time she raised one to crawl forward.

  “They’re going to be on us soon!” she shouted.

  Mayhew turned too, “Fuck!” He shouted. He glanced around wildly, looking for a way to go.

  A car stood abandoned on the pavement, wedged up against the wall of a long-ransacked shop. He ran to it, scrambling up on to its roof. Magda followed suit, Mayhew helping her up. The zombie Carson had hit with the pistol changed course, following them to the wrecked vehicle.

  As one, Carson and Lavender ducked left, dodging the teen-zombie that stumbled stupidly on its feet, making an awkward turn. Their move seemed to enrage the double-zombie. It gave a shriek Lavender would not have thought possible with rotting vocal cords. Evidently distracted, it too changed its course, joining the zombie that had reached the car where Mayhew and Magda stood on the roof.

  Awed, Carson and Lavender, for now ignored, watched what happened next.

  “Get on my shoulders!” Mayhew ordered, dipping to allow Magda to do as he said. She wasted no time arguing. Mayhew raised her until she was roughly level with a broken window.

  “Climb in!”

  Magda flung herself at the window, slicing tender flesh on jagged shards of glass, yelping at the sudden, bright pain. She disappeared for a few eternal moments, leaving Mayhew floundering behind her, barely out of reach of the grasping zombie hands.

  She pounded at the lethal glass with her boot, reducing it to splinters. Dangling half-out of the window, her stomach painfully across the evilly glittering frame, she flung out her arms,

  “Mayhew! Here!”

  He turned, saw Magda’s outstretched hands and lunged for them. There was a terrifying moment when he thought she would drop him, leaving him to the mercy of the zombies, the teen also part of the scene now, closing in on the near side of the car. Then Mayhew found a foot hold in the wall, the merest grip. He released Magda, allowing her to fall inside the building a second time. He grasped the window frame, his hands soon bleeding with myriad tiny cuts and hauled himself inside.