Six Days With The Dead Part 10

It wasn't until Charlie had mentioned it that Liz realised the thumping in her head had returned.

*Must've been the adrenalin,' Liz said, handing Charlie the reins, *but it's coming back with a vengeance now.'

*Here,' Imran said, wetting a folded cloth for Liz to rest on her forehead *but no sleeping. It's not a good sign if you fall asleep after a bang to the head.'

Liz's tense muscles screamed to be allowed to relax and she felt shattered. Whether that was the after-effects of the adrenalin rushing through her body, or a symptom that her head injury was more serious than they thought, she didn't know.

*You lost a lot of arrows back there,' Liz said to Imran, whipping away a dribble of water that had run from the cloth down to the tip of her nose, *How many have you got left?'

Doing a quick check on the arrows he had left, Imran frowned.

*Only twenty five,' he said *let's hope we don't run into any more trouble. This trip is starting to suck, big time.'

*Yeah, that's one way to put it,' Liz smiled.

Outside, the warmth of the afternoon was slowly fading away and Liz could see the sun starting to tint the horizon a warm rose colour. Soon the countryside would drift through the grey light of dusk and into the solid blackness of night. If they were lucky, the sky would be clear tonight and they would be able to make the final leg of their journey by the light of the moon and stars.

*How much further to the O'Briens, Charlie?' She asked.

*We'll be there in about two hours,' Charlie replied *we'll stay the night and head off home at first light. And as the O'Briens will be staying with us for a while, we won't have to call on any neighbours for some time'

*Thank f.u.c.k,' Imran said under his breath.

Over the next hour and half the three travelled in silence, each letting the tension from their train line encounter drain from their bodies. As she watched Stinky and Ratbag squabble and chase each other about their crate, Liz's headache slowly faded and she could tell she was feeling more like her usual self. Outside the sky had turned an inky black, dotted with a million sparkling stars. Only on the distant horizon a tinge of deep orange remained a while longer, as the sun bid them a final farewell until the morning. It was dangerous to travel at night. Not that many of the dangers weren't still there in the day, just at night they were harder to see. One consolation was at least the Dead had no better night vision than the living, so that was one thing slightly in their favour now.

*Nice view coming up,' Charlie said, as they crested a hill.

The fields suddenly fell away and before them was the huge expanse of the darkly glittering sea. The moon still low, cast its silvery light over the vista below, reflecting off the slowly breaking waves and ghostly pale pebble beach. Even in the cart, the air took on that special smell that only the ocean could have, instantly refreshing them. Liz quietly opened the top hatch and stood up. Letting the cool sea breeze wash over her, the last grumblings of her headache seemed to fade away with each deep cleansing breath. She looked at the small road they would be traveling on, as it followed the coast line down to the small seaside village of Cawsand Bay where the O'Briens had set up home.

Apparently, until the reign of Queen Victoria, the area had been synonymous with smuggling. The hidden away cove, with its tiny fishing village, was an ideal location to bring ash.o.r.e the illegal booty. So to deter this activity the authorities had built a fortified Customs house that held those in service of the crown and also acted as a small temporary jail for those unlucky smugglers that were caught. Later, the building became a small police station for the local area and then, many years later, when the world fell apart and the Dead walked, Mr and Mrs...o...b..ien took up residence. The O'Briens solid Victorian home stood alone on a small windswept peninsula, overlooking the harbour that housed the village of Cawsand Bay. Thankfully, many of the original inhabitants of the village had fled to the sea in their boats when the Dead first made their appearance, so when the O'Briens came across this sheltered haven, there were very few of the Dead to deal with at all.

Liz thought if they could just build a huge wall around the whole area, it would be a beautiful place to live. But at the end of the day she would never give up the security she felt behind the high thick walls of Lanherne for merely a scenic view. With a click of his tongue and a gentle flick of the reins, Charlie urged Delilah forward along the small coastal road. Soon the harsh silhouette of the O'Brien home came into view. Standing proud and defiant above the crashing waters, the home did not look very inviting. Of course they did not expect to see cheery lights burning at every window, these would just attract the Dead but somehow this place had an air of loneliness about it.

*I guess its home to them,' Liz said aloud, as the cart began to climb a small gravel side road that led to the dark house on the peninsula.

They could hear the distant call of gulls returning to their roost from a day at sea and somewhere foxes were calling to one another. No, Cawsand bay may be beautiful during the day, but at night it transformed into a place that could smother you with its forlorn isolation.

As the cart pulled up to the old police station, they waited for Daniel or Emma O'Brien to appear. After five minutes of sitting there and still no sign of anyone, Liz reached for her sword, knowing instinctively something was wrong.

*Oh for f.u.c.ks sake,' Imran said, *don't say the raiders have got here before us.'

*Well there's only one way to find out,' Charlie replied.

*I'm coming this time,' she said, catching Charlie's eye, *Imran can't aim a bow in this darkness and I feel fine now, so no arguments.'

Shrugging his shoulders, Charlie knew it was pointless to argue with her. He trusted her to use her best judgement at all times. She would never put any of them at risk just to prove a point. Jumping down from the cart, the gravel crunched beneath them and they made their way to the thick front door. The small barred windows on the ground floor were dark, showing no signs of any life inside. Pushing gently against the door, Liz was surprised when it swung open revealing a dark panelled room with the remains of the police front desk still in place. The room smelled of smoke and opposite the desk was a small fireplace with embers still glowing faintly its the hearth.

*This doesn't look good,' Charlie whispered, *No sign of them, but from the fireplace they've obviously been here sometime in the last few hours.'

Stepping into the shadowy room, the only light source coming from the moonlight behind them and the very soft orange glow from the embers, they realised it would be near impossible to see any of the Dead coming for them in here. Picking up a piece of wood from beside the fire and tearing a strip off one of the faded curtains, Charlie made an impromptu torch. Blowing against the fading embers it took a while for the fabric to catch but eventually he soon had a blazing torch to light their way.

*Ready?' he said, turning to Liz.

But Liz was looking down at the tiled flooring. Now that they had some light they could both clearly see that at the far end of the room by another doorway, the tiles were covered in a spray of deep red blood.

*Oh f.u.c.k!' Charlie said.

Remembering the sight of poor Mrs Penhaligan lying face down in the garden with her head smashed in, Liz's heart sank to think of Emma O'Brien and her unborn baby meeting such a fate .

*Right, this place is probably a warren of small offices, not to mention the cells. I say we open that door, make some noise and wait for whoever that blood belonged to, to come to us,' Charlie suggested.

Nodding, Liz went over to the door, trying to step round the pool of blood. Placing her hand on a blood covered door handle, she gave it a push. The door swung open with a creek, showing a dark corridor lined with boxes and shelves stacked with supplies. Wiping the foreign blood from her palm onto he trouser leg, Liz looked at Charlie.

*h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo, anyone home? Get your live flesh here!' she shouted down the corridor.

Then straining her hearing, she listened for any sound coming from within the police station. She tried again, but it was soon clear the place was as dead as the person whose blood she was standing in.

*Nothing,' she said to Charlie, *I can't hear a thing.'

Suddenly there was a frantic crunching of the gravel just outside. Spinning with an ice pick ready in his hand, Charlie was relieved to find that it was just Imran running towards them.

*There's someone walking down on the beach,' Imran said, with a flick of his head.

Following Imran back outside, Charlie and Liz walked surrounded by the pool of yellow light of their torch. So as not to ruin his night vision, Charlie handed Liz the torch and walked over to Imran. After briefly closing his eyes to readjust them to the limited light supply, he looked to the beach below them. Sure enough, a figure was walking along the surf line, its back to police station on the peninsula.

*Right, let's get down there and see what's what,' Charlie said, *Imran, you stay here with Delilah, Liz with me.'

Breaking into a jog before the words had left his mouth, Charlie was off. Liz thrust the torch to Imran and with a wink she too disappeared into the darkness. Pausing briefly at the end of the gravelled side road, Charlie turned to Liz who had been a few paces behind.

*There's a pathway leading down to the beach over there,' he said, pointing to a break in the fence running along the cliff side of the road.

As they reached the top of the path, Charlie held up his hand for her to stop. They listened intently for any danger, before they began their descent, hearing only the distant break of the surf below, they carried on. Walking along a cliff path in the dark, with high gra.s.s on one side, and a drop on the other was not Liz's idea of fun. Every few paces, she would turn around, checking the darkness behind them for an unseen attack. But no attack came and soon the small path of trampled down gra.s.s turned sandy as they reached the top of the beach. Looking up the way they had come, Liz could still make out Imran standing by the cart, the torch waving in his hand. As they stepped off the last part of the path, the sand gave way to the shingle that covered many of the beaches in this area.

*Well there's no sneaking up on them, not with these pebbles,' Charlie said, as they began crunching their way across the beach to the distant figure still walking in the surf.

The figure stopped and peered out to the ocean, its shoulders slumped as waves lapped at its ankles. They could now see from the silhouette that it was a man. The scene before them could so easily have been just someone out for a stroll with something serious to think out. But the blood at the Police station told a different story. When they were twenty metres away, the crunching of the shingle underfoot alerted the man to their presence. With a stiff automatic movement, the man turned to face them.

*Mr O'Brien, is that you? Where's Emma, Daniel?' Liz said, holding her sword low so as not to appear a threat.

If he was in shock there was no telling what he may do. Then the figure took a step towards them, and then another. Then with a sound that was part roar and part moan, he burst into a sprint directly for them. Luckily, the shifting shingle beneath his feet slowed him down slightly.

*We've got a Runner!' Charlie shouted to Liz, recognising the call immediately.

The man, who they a.s.sumed was probably Daniel O'Brien, had died during the last three or four hours. His brain was still able to a.s.sert relatively smooth control over his limbs but there was no doubt he was as Dead as the shambling cadavers they had met earlier that day. In that split second Liz noticed his blood covered hands clenching and unclenching, desperate to get hold of either of them. In that one movement she could see his desperation to rip into their flesh and feast upon their living bodies. Placing her feet in an optimum battle stance, Liz readied herself, her blade held high behind her. The Dead Mr O'Brien was now only a few metres away, his moan developing a growling undertone as he chewed frantically at his own lips.

*Oh s.h.i.t!' Charlie said to himself, as they could now see how Mr O'Brien had died.

Like James Penhaligan his throat had been cut, or at least it had been attempted. This time the cut had not gone deep enough, or perhaps Mr O'Brien had tried to fight them off during the attack. Either way, instead of the single slice under the chin, this cut had slipped down to the shoulder on one side, missing the major arteries. Whoever had killed him, finally had to resort to plunging a knife deep into his chest to finish him off. The Dead man's milky eyes focusing on Charlie seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. With an extra burst of speed, Daniel O'Brien lunged at Charlie with murderous intent. After his time in the army, and years of fighting the Dead, this frenzied attack was clumsy at best. With a quick sidestep, Charlie was swinging his ice pick towards the back of the Dead man's skull. With a dull *thud' the tip of the pick broke through Mr O'Brien's cranium and tore into the brain. With the unnatural life now gone from this moving sack of flesh and bones, Daniel O'Brien slumped to his knees and fell to his side, forever to lie among the other flotsam and jetsam along the high tideline.

*s.h.i.t,' Charlie said, as he wiped clean the tip of the ice pick, *We've got to get back to the Convent as soon as possible, we've been dealing with this bulls.h.i.t long enough.'

*But what about Emma?' Liz asked, as they started to climb back up the cliff path. *We can't just abandon her and her baby.'

Shaking his head, Charlie sighed.

*Sorry Liz, but I've got a sneaky feeling that they'll both turn up Dead somewhere round here.'

Liz went quiet, as she thought of poor Emma forever to carry inside her, her unborn Dead infant.

*We should at least try to find her.'

*Well, it's too dangerous to search the village tonight. We'll bed down at the Police station and take a look at first light,' Charlie said *but we're not hanging around for too long, we've got to take care of our own first. I want to be back at Lanherne before tomorrow evening. Agreed?'

*Agreed.' Liz replied.

This whole trip seemed to have led from one horror to the next and Charlie was right, they could not allow this to visit those they cared for at Lanherne.

*Well?' Imran asked, when they had returned to the Police station.

*It was Mr O'Brien. They got him.' Liz replied.

Standing in the pool of warm yellow torch light, Liz just wanted to step into his comforting arms and forget the sights, even for just a few minutes. But she knew they needed to secure Delilah for the night and then move into the O'Brien's home to sleep.

*f.u.c.k!' Imran replied. *So what now?'

*Bed down here, a quick look for Emma at dawn, then we get our a.r.s.es back to the Convent and pray everything's alright there' Charlie said, as he unhitched Delilah and began to lead her to the back of the station, where a fenced off area would keep her safe.

*Come on...,' Imran said to Liz, pulling some blankets out of the cart *we might as well get inside.

Walking into the station, Liz and Imran looked about the blood splattered room, the flickering torch light adding to the uneasy atmosphere.

*Well, we're not sleeping in here,' Imran said, *let's find a room with a little less carnage in it.'

Nodding her agreement, Liz took the torch from Imran and headed to the other door. Walking down the small corridor, she soon found a suitable room to sleep in. At one time it had been an office of some kind, but since Emma and Daniel had taken up residence, it was now a bedroom. In one corner sat a small crib. It would never hold the smiling happy baby it was intended for and was now nothing more than a reminder that just when you thought life couldn't get any worse, some b.a.s.t.a.r.ds could come along and add a whole new level of s.h.i.t to deal with. Liz placed the torch in the small fire place, the kindling quickly catching alight, filling the room with a flickering, comforting light. Moving over to sit on the bed, Liz picked up something folded by the pillows.

*Christ, IH many more are going to die, before they're stopped?'

*I don't know what to say, Liz,' Imran replied, wrapping his arms around her *but all those who have been attacked have been in small groups and there's a lot of us at the Convent. We'll be ok, don't worry.'

*I suppose so, but that's not really the point.' Liz replied, turning round in Imran's embrace.

*Delilah's sorted out back, all watered and fed,' Charlie said, as he joined them in the bedroom. *Emma and Daniel have a good flock of chickens out there. I think we'll take what we can, no point letting them starve and it'll be good to cross breed them with ours too.'

Looking about the small room, he chose a st.u.r.dy looking wooden chair and jammed it under the door handle, just in case.

*Right, you two have the bed and I'll sort myself out on the floor.'

Grabbing two seat pads from a dilapidated looking sofa, Charlie made a make shift bed on the floor. Taking one of the pillows from the bed and a blanket from Imran, Charlie tried to get as comfortable as he could.

*Night,' he said, as he turned on his side.

Soon Liz could hear his breathing take on a slow steady rhythm, as he drifted off to sleep. Liz and Imran lay down on the bed, spooning their bodies against each other.

*I love you,' Imran whispered in her ear, kissing the back of her neck.

*I love you too,' she answered.

Feeling Imran's heart beating through her back she could tell, like Charlie he was soon asleep. For a while she watched the orange flames dancing in the fire grate, as the tragic and terrifying events of the day replayed themselves in her mind. Pulling Imran arms tighter about her she prayed tomorrow would be a better day. She prayed tomorrow they would find Emma alive and most importantly, she prayed these crazy raiders would not find their way to the convent.

DAY 4.

*Push, Emma. Push,' Liz screamed to the woman lying in front of her giving birth.

Emma, her hair plastered to her face with sweat, panted through the pain as another contraction racked through her body. As the pain reached a crescendo she screamed and grabbed for Liz's hand. Liz winced at the fierce grip Emma had on her and not for the first time wished someone else was here to help. Where was everybody else, she thought to herself looking around the small bedroom? Emma screamed again, the contractions coming again to tear through her. Liz wetted a cloth with her free hand and wiped Emma's brow, trying to cool her. Then suddenly Emma's breath caught in her throat, her eyes bulging horrifically, she looked at Liz, her panic clear to see. Emma opened her mouth to speak but before a sound could pa.s.s Emma's lips an explosion of blood shot from between her legs soaking the bed. Emma bucked her body wildly, blood flecking on her lips as her hysterical screams tore something in her throat.

*Get it out of me, get it out!' she screamed, as another wave of blood splatted onto the bed.

Liz looked at the blood horrified. Prying Emma's fingers off one by one, Liz managed to free her hand and move to the foot of the bed. Sitting in the pool of clotting blood, Liz forced apart Emma knees to see what was happening. As she looked at Emma, the baby's head fully crowned, she knew something was wrong. What she saw wasn't so much as Emma giving birth to the baby but more like the baby was forcing its way out of Emma's womb. Liz could see tiny fingers being pushed either side of the head, tearing at the edges of Emma's v.a.g.i.n.a in their desperation to get out. Emma's skin ripped and her screaming became uncontrollable and horrific. Forcing her wider, the fingers soon became hands and then a wrist and then an arm. The little arm, covered in blood and bits of torn flesh, reached forward and grabbed the blood soaked blanket. Using its hold as leverage, the baby began to pull itself out of Emma. Liz instinctively backed away from the emerging infant, knowing whatever was coming out of Emma was not the rosy cheeked baby Emma had hoped for. Emma had stopped screaming, with her vocal chords now ripped and b.l.o.o.d.y, she could only manage horse grunts of pain. Convulsions spasmed through her, forcing her back to arch high off the bed. Even then the thing pulling itself out of her would not let go its hold on the blanket. The baby wriggled its shoulders and soon its other arm was now gripping tightly to the blanket, pulling the rest of itself out of Emma's ruined body. With a stomach churning rip, the baby pulled itself free of its mother. Then with unnatural strength the new born child wrapped its tiny pudgy fingers around its own umbilical cord and yanked. With a *splat' the placenta was ripped from Emma to land beside her demonic infant. Emma let out one final grunt and as Liz flicked her eyes up to her face, she could see Emma had died. And then suddenly all was still in the small bedroom. Slowly she lowered her gaze, scared at what she may see lying small and b.l.o.o.d.y between Emma's legs. Horrified, Liz looked down at the thing that had ripped its way into existence, only for her breath to catch in her throat at what she saw. With its eyes closed, it hungrily licked blood and bits of Emma off its lips and fingers. Then with a look on its face could only be described as a smirk, it opened its eyes to look at Liz with the milky white eyes of the Dead.

*No!' Liz screamed.

Screaming herself awake, Liz sat up with a jolt, her heart pounding in her chest.

*Hey, hey, it's alright you were just dreaming,' Imran said sitting up to pull her into his arms.

*s.h.i.t! Imran. That was a bad one,' Liz said, her voice shaky, *Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you'

Imran held her close, rubbing her back to calm her down until he could feel her heartbeat returning to normal.

*Hey, that's ok. Though lucky for you Charlie's just gone out to scout around. Don't think he'd appreciate your cheery wake-up call quite so much,' Imran said smiling at her.

Rubbing her face to clear the last vestiges of the dream from her mind, Liz swung her legs over the side of the bed.

*Oh, he shouldn't have gone on his own. Come on, we should go after him, just in case,' Liz said, standing up and reaching for her sword. *And I could do with something to eat. I'm starved.'

With a groan, Imran pulled himself up from the bed and began folding up their blankets.

*I could do with a wee first,' he said following Liz out of the room with the blankets under his arm.

As they walked down the small corridor back to the front office, they could see that Charlie had already taken many of the O'Brien's supplies. Though, where he had managed to stash them in the already cramped cart, Liz had no idea. Stepping over the large sticky patch of drying blood in the front office, Liz and Imran made their way outside to find Charlie. As they stood on the threshold of the Police station, a small flock of seagulls flew past the peninsular calling to each other through the clear icy blue sky and flew off out to sea. The clean sea air had a chill to it this morning but Liz still found it refreshing as the last cobwebs of her dream were blown away. Charlie had already brought Delilah around and harnessed her to the cart, which Liz could now see had the addition of a small two wheeled trailer attached to the back. Charlie had packed the trailer high with much of the rescued O'Brien supplies.

*Back in a sec,' Imran said, jogging to the side of the building to relieve his bladder.