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Authors: Stephen Charlick

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Horror, #Fantasy

Last Days With the Dead (9 page)

BOOK: Last Days With the Dead
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Holding the box up to catch the last remnants of light coming through the window, Lissa carefully punched in the memorised code that would activate the device. When the letters ‘E.T.A?’ began to scroll across the small
screen, she breathed a sigh of relief. They had kept their word after all. They would be waiting for them just beyond the wall, just like they had promised. Then with precise movements, Lissa typed her three word reply. With one last look over to her daughter, Lissa pressed the small ‘enter’ button and waited. There was no going back now, and as Lissa watched the message ‘… MIDNIGHT- SIDE- GATE… ’ scroll across the screen, followed seconds later by the reply ‘…RECEIVED-WILL-AWAIT-SIGNAL,’ she smiled.

***

An hour earlier, Karen discretely stole a glance up at the clock on the wall to the far right of her station, hoping her shift was almost at an end.

‘Damn
,’ She mumbled to herself, noticing the hands had barely moved at all since the last time she had looked.

Barbara was due to cover her station in the communications centre at six, still a full seven minutes away. It wasn’t as if she even expected Barbara to be late, no-one was ever late, not here
, but since passing to her superior the most recent INTEL for Captain Cardin, Karen couldn’t wait for her shift to be over.  For the tenth time in as many minutes, Karen automatically went through her usual checks and procedures. As to be expected, Radar showed nothing bigger than a seagull approaching them by air, and after switching a few relays, she established the sonar readings showed similar activity beneath the waves as well. Then with almost resigned futility, Karen repositioned her mic and earpiece and began to work her way down through the list. It was automatic now, she had no need to read the names, frequency or ensign codes, and she had absorbed the information by rote, months ago.

‘Delta-Beta-three-one-four- this is Command- do you copy- over
,’ she said, repeating it three times with a pause between each call for their response. When as usual, no answer was received, Karen moved onto the next location and then the next. All that greeted her was silence. She had cried out into the darkness again and again, the darkness had stolen away her words. But she didn’t care, as it had long since stolen her hope.  

‘Alpha-Gamma-Sept-Neuf-Deux- ce n’est Commandemant Britannique- Vous me recevez- over
,’ she repeated lastly in French.

It had been three years since they had received anything from
a French military compound on the Ile de Molene, but orders were orders, and until she was told otherwise, she would continue to try to contact them. The base had been swiftly erected to act as bolt hole when the Death-walker plague had first struck. When it had become clear this was a battle humanity stood little chance of winning, what was left of the French Government and army had taken up residence, sealing themselves off from the mainland and the very people they were meant to serve.       

With little surprise, Karen
’s calls to the French base were met with the usual static. Apparently, there had been over four hundred personnel on the base, just what had happened to them, she could only guess, but it was a pretty good guess, and she knew it wouldn’t have ended happily for the four hundred souls on Ile de Molene.

‘Anything?’ said a voice behind her, as a hand touched her shoulder.

‘Jesus, Barbara,’ Karen said, pulling her mic and earpiece from her head, ‘you made me jump.’

‘Sorry, Kaz,’ the woman replied, with an apologetic smile, ‘anything?’

Karen looked up at the middle-aged woman who was one of the few people she considered a friend. Barbara was tall, with piercing blue eyes, and had an unruly head of blonde hair that always seemed to be trying to escape her bun to fall in strands over her shoulders. Karen, in contrast, was slim, short, and had grown up over the last eight years under the watchful rule of regulation and discipline. So her dark hair was never seen free of the single tight braid she wore.

‘Same old same old,’ Karen replied, standing away from her chair to stretch the taught muscles in her back, ‘and now it’s all yours.’

‘Thanks,’ said Barbara, rolling her eyes as she took the mic and earpiece that Karen had hooked over her finger.

‘Ok
ay, well, I‘ll see you later,’ Karen replied, forcing her lips into a smile, as she turned to leave the Comms room.

Normally
, she would stay a few minutes to pass the time of day with Barbara, or arrange a time when they could meet up for a chat over a few cups of what passed for coffee these days, but today, something twisted and knotted in her stomach. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible, she had information to pass on, and the recipient would be leaving for their own shift in ten minutes.

‘Oh,
okay,’ Barbara called after Karen with a wave, a little disappointed the young woman hadn’t stopped to chat.

As the door closed behind her and she began to walk along the steel lined corridor, Karen kept her face neutral and her pace measured. Inside her, she was fighting with the urge to run and only just winning. Keeping her eyes straight, she forced herself not to glance up at the cameras that relayed activity from every corridor and public room back to the security room
, and made sure she gave each person she passed the appropriate nod, salute, or greeting.  Everything they had planned for, which if she was honest with herself, had seemed like a distant dream, was about to be put into practice. Above her, some of the florescent tubes pinged as they flicked off and on, throwing the corridor in sputtering shadows. There had been a time when such things would never have been acceptable, but now, with their stores running low, they didn’t have much choice. It was just one more reason their plan had to succeed. In far too many ways, this place was dying, and whether those in charge could not see it, or simply did not care, it was time to go.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Karen reached the small room she called home and stepped inside
quickly. Slamming the door behind her, she looked at the man sitting on the bunk doing up his boot laces.

‘We’ve got to go tonight,’ Karen said flatly, ‘they’re at the Convent right now
, if you want to save Steve and the others, it’s got to be tonight.’

‘Shit!’ said Matt, his hands frozen in action as he looked up at his sister.

***

Lissa looked down at her watch, its cracked dial reflecting the light from the single candle that burned in the small room.

‘Eleven forty-five,’ she mumbled, looking over to her daughter, ‘right, I’ll go to the Doctor for the baby, do you know what you have to do?’

‘Yes
,’ replied Lucy, looking down at the heavy object in her hand.   

Slipping off her shoes, Lissa’s passing barely made a sound as she walked along the dark hallway. With the moonlight coming th
rough the small window at the end of the hall to guide her, Lissa soon came to the top of the winding stone staircase that would take her down to the ground floor. Placing a foot on the first step, she paused to glance back. In the shadowy gloom of the corridor, she could just about make out the form of Lucy creeping in the opposite direction. Lissa knew her daughter would do what needed to be done, she always had, and with a satisfied nod to herself, she began to descend the stairs.

Standing just outside the infirmary, Lissa silently slipped her shoes back on and watched the light coming from under the door break with
a shadow. Someone was moving around inside, but it didn’t matter, she had expected as much. Feeling the reassuring weight in her hand, Lissa pushed open the door and walked in.

‘Oh, hi
, Lissa,’ whispered Avery, turning towards her while he wrung most of the water out of a wet facecloth over a bowl, ‘couldn’t sleep?’

Lissa stepped further into the room and stood behind Avery
, watching him bathe the forehead of the sick child sleeping fitfully on the bed next to him.

‘Will the boy live?’ Lissa asked.

‘Well,’ Avery began, turning to look back at her.

With his gasp of surprise cut short, Avery had barely registered the arm flying toward him
, before Lissa brought the heavy metal cloche crashing down on the side of his head. Avery brought his hand up to the side of his head, and despite the tingling sensation numbing his fingers; he knew instinctively that blood was already flowing freely from the wound. Lissa stepped back and watched blankly as Avery tried to push himself to his feet. She could see from the way his eyes swam in and out of focus that he was fighting the blackness that would pull him down into unconsciousness, and she was determined one way or another, it was a battle he would lose. Avery meekly reached out his free hand to steady himself on the small table beside him. But as his hand brushed the corner of the table, a wave of blackness swept over him, sending him plunging forwards. With a crash, Avery fell into the small table, sending the bowl of water crashing to the floor. Then with Lissa’s face swimming in and out of focus, the blackness finally claimed him, and he slid from the table to crumple on the floor at her feet.

‘Time to go, little one,’ Lissa whispered, quickly bundling up the small infant in a blanket.

Above her, Lucy stood motionless, her hand poised to knock on the wooden door. She looked back down the dark corridor the way her mother had gone, and knew she was alone. This was her part of the plan, this would make things right. With a sharp intake of breath to steady her nerves, Lucy gently knocked on the door and waited. When nothing happened, she knocked again. This time she heard creaking movement from within the room.

‘Hello’ came the woman’s croaky voice from inside,
obviously, Lucy had woken her, ‘who is it?’

‘It’s Lucy, Miss
,’ Lucy answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

‘Lucy?’ the woman repeated.

Lucy could hear the woman getting off the bed and moving to the door.

‘Doctor Avery asked if you had something he could use for a nappy for the baby
,’ Lucy continued, glancing along the corridor to make sure no other doors were opening.

‘Oh, a nappy,’ said the woman, stifling a yawn
. ‘Sure, hang on.’

With the sound of the bolt being drawn across, Lucy knew her time had come.
Slowly, the door swung open.

‘Here you go,’ said Alice, holding out a folded piece of towelling.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all Lucy could say as she raised her hand up level with Alice’s chest.

‘No
,’ Alice whispered, her eyes widening in shock as she recognised the shape of a gun with a silencer in the girl’s hand.

Without a further word, Lucy pulled the trigger
, sending Alice staggering backwards. For a second, their eyes locked, one pair showing nothing but pure determination, the other disbelief and despair. Then with strangled gasp, Alice collapsed to the floor. Lucy looked down at Alice’s still body on the floor, the pool of blood slowly spreading out from under her. She had done it, she had played her part, but there was still more to do. Stepping gingerly around Alice’s body, Lucy went to the cot and collected the baby up in her arms. This is what they had really come for, this child would make things right. This child would bring her family back to her.

***

Sister Rebecca knelt before the chapel’s large stone alter looking up at the ornately carved depiction of Mary holding the infant Christ, and lost herself to the rhythm of her benediction. Next to her, Sister Claire was also praying, the soft murmur of her prayers competing with the gentle clicking of the Rosary beads wound about her fingers. At one time, there had been over twenty Sisters at Lanherne who had answered God’s call, and dedicated their lives to prayer and service. Of them, only Sister Rebecca and Sister Claire now remained. The others had been taken from them in various ways. Dead hands and teeth had ripped many apart in those first few terrifying weeks when the world had changed into some nightmarish hell. For some, the horrors that now stalked the earth had tested their faith beyond its limits, and had simply slipped away during the night, never to be heard of again, and later, a few of the younger novices had even been stolen away by the very men they had mistakenly offered sanctuary. Only their Mother Superior, Sister Josephine, had been able to leave them peacefully in her sleep. She had been the first in eight years not to come back, and her death had heralded a new hope for humanity. She had passed over, leaving her body a simple shell at peace with the natural order of things. Thanks to the smallest of God’s miracles, the virus within baby Charlie, had mutated and become airborne, infecting them all with the promise of a final death, and with that true death, they knew life finally had a chance.

The stubby
, smoky, candle she had placed on the altar had done little to push back the cold darkness of the chapel, and as the flame sputtered on some unknown impurities on the wax, Sister Rebecca’s eyes momentarily dropped from the face of the Holy mother.

‘Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen
.’ She softly prayed, her eyes drifting back up to the carved features as she passed another Rosary bead through her fingers.

‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst wom…’ suddenly the word froze on Sister Rebecca’s lips, as another woman’s name suddenly came to her.

BOOK: Last Days With the Dead
4.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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