Star Drawn Saga (Book 2): Lost Among The Dead Read online

  ‘Well, come on then,’ she said, patting the side of the cart to encourage the bedraggled looking dog. ‘I said time to go, didn’t I?’

  But as the cart continued to move off, the distance between them increasing, the dog simply tilted its head and looked at her. She wondered if she had already used up her allotted interaction with the animal; perhaps after its brief return to being Man’s ally it had already fallen back into its feral ways.

  ‘Well?’ she asked, tilting her own head; inadvertently mirroring the dog’s stance before glancing briefly away to the Dead horde already pulling themselves free of the large overgrown bushes.

  Following her line of sight, the small dog growled disapprovingly at the approaching corpses before looking back at her.

  ‘Last chance,’ she offered, knowing she would need to close the hatch or run the risk of the Dead seeing them.

  ‘Fran,’ she heard Tom warn from behind her, ‘we need to…’

  ‘I know,’ she quietly replied, shaking her head in disappointment as she began to pull the hatch closed again.

  Just then she saw the animal tentatively move its front paw at first, almost as if trying to edge itself forward without making a firm commitment.

  ‘Come on,’ she willed, slowing her movements just a fraction.

  Then, as if hearing her thoughts, the Terrier suddenly bolted forward; a desperate yelp escaping it as it ran to catch up with the leaving cart. Within seconds it was running alongside the cart; its small legs pumping as it tried to keep pace with the turning of the large wheels.

  ‘Come on, boy,’ Fran encouraged, opening the hatch as much as she dared.

  With a sharp bark, the dog suddenly launched itself at the opening. But unfortunately the hatch was just that bit too high for the small creature and with its front paws only just reaching the lip of the hatch, its back legs were left to claw frantically against the wood below; fighting to prevent it from falling.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ muttered Fran, quickly reaching out to grab the panicking animal by the scruff of its neck and hoping it wouldn’t abruptly change its mind and take a snap at her. ‘I’ve got you.’

  Then with the yelping bundle of matted and stinking fur tumbling its way into the cart to land on her lap, Fran quickly pulled the hatch closed behind it and their small group was, for better or worse, unexpectedly increased by one more.

  ***

  Chapter 2:

  ‘Christ, that animal stinks,’ grumbled Tom, glaring through the shadows of the cart at the small dog nestled against Fran’s legs; its chin already resting on her knee.

  As if aware that Tom was talking about him, the Fox Terrier rolled his hazel eyes briefly in his direction, a sad and almost apologetic look on his scruffy face.

  ‘Now don’t go giving me that look,’ he continued to whisper, crossing his arms defiantly as he looked to dog sat opposite him in the cart, ‘you smell rank and there’s no getting round it.’

  ‘Yeah, well, rank or not,’ said Fran in a hushed voice, giving the animal by her side a friendly pat as she spoke, ‘he turned up just at the right time. If he hadn’t…’

  Fran let her sentence hang unfinished, for they all knew what would have happened if the Dead man’s teeth had pierced her skin. She would have suffered hours if not days of agonising pain, leading to an unavoidable death; a death cruelly tainted with the knowledge it was to be granted as only a temporary state of being.

  ‘Well, even so,’ Tom at last agreed, breaking the pensive silence that had fallen over them to reach across and give the small dog a quick and rather half-hearted scratch behind his ear, ‘you still stink, mate.’

  No sooner had Tom, ruffled the animals fur than he started looking dubiously at his fingers, rubbing them together as if he could feel the grime that had come off the animal’s coat.

  ‘Didn’t I see a river on the map yesterday,’ said Fran, watching as Tom cautiously sniffed his fingers. ‘It must be around here somewhere. We can get the worst off him at least.’

  ‘He m…may smell but at l…least he’s quiet. Here,’ added Kai, before handing the folded map back over his shoulder to Fran.

  ‘Well, I’m guessing he’s not that old… thanks,’ she whispered back, taking the map from him. ‘So he’s probably knows noise attracts the Dead… and while he may be happy to feed on the rotting corpses, he knows too many around and they’ll get the upper hand and…’

  ‘It’s a dog, Fran,’ Tom interrupted, ‘I doubt he thinks like that. More like he saw some other stinky beast get cornered by them and ripped apart,’ he continued, subconsciously rubbing his hand against his trouser leg to clean it. ‘That’s why he knows to keep quiet.’

  ‘I take it you’re not much of a dog person?’ mused Fran, smiling to herself as she moved the dog’s head from her lap to unfold the large map in front of her.

  ‘No,’ Tom replied, pushing aside a few more of the spyhole covers to allow more light in the cart, ‘not really.’

  ‘Well, looks like he’s part of the family now,’ Fran muttered, while searching for their position on the map, ‘so get used to it.’

  ‘And I suppose we don’t get a say in the matter?’ asked Tom, leaning forward to point at the map. ‘We’re here,’ he continued, ‘and going up this way.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, tracing the wriggling line of the road up through the nearby village and then to the other size where it briefly ran alongside a river. ‘And no, the vote’s two to one so the mutt stays.’

  ‘Two to one?’ said Tom. ‘And just when did we take a vote? Because I’m pretty sure I missed that.’

  ‘Well unless there’s something you and Kai need to tell me,’ Fran replied, comically raising her eyebrows in mock surprise, ‘I think Kai will throw his lot in with me… don’t you?’

  ‘Womanly wiles, mate,’ chuckled Tom, slapping Kai on the back as he shook his head sympathetically. ‘Shows they always get what they want in the end… let’s face it, we’re screwed.’

  ‘I hope that doesn’t include your late wife,’ thought Fran, realising Tom himself thought his wife ultimately wanted him to join her and his lost daughters.

  ‘Yep, definitely under the th…thumb,’ said Kai, winking as he glanced back at Fran; a smile on his face.

  ‘As long as everyone knows where they stand,’ Fran smiled back, slowly refolding the map as she shook thoughts of Tom’s delusional mania from her mind. ‘Right,’ she continued, keeping her voice low just in case there were any Dead on the road, before handing the map back to Kai. ‘It’s a pity we had to come this way at all but with the other way’s blocked, it was either this or double-back on ourselves… anyway, so we continue along this road for about half a mile and then we’ll find ourselves entering the village of… Chacewater.’

  ‘How many b…buildings are we t…talking about?’ asked Kai, knowing that the term village in Cornwall could mean barely a dozen homes to anything up to fifty or sixty.

  ‘Chacewater is a bit on the big size,’ Fran replied, scrunching up her face, ‘which is why it would have been better to avoid it… but looks like we’ll bypass most of it anyway. Look, see here, we’ll take this road,’ she continued, reaching over Kai’s shoulder to run her finger along the map, ‘it skirts past the most concentrated parts of the village. Past a sports field of some sort… here… and this thing that could be a church… and from there, there are only buildings on one side of the road until we get to here… and then that leads on to the river further on down here.’

  ‘Easy as pie,’ sighed Tom, from behind her.

  ‘Hmm,’ hummed Kai, following the route on the map before turning to look back at Fran and Tom. ‘Do you w…want to drive,’ he asked, offering Tom the reins, ‘you’re more used to it than m…me and there may be ab…abandoned traffic on the road to go around… I don’t want to get us stuck.’

  ‘And if you’re in the driving seat there’s less chance of you having an episode and jumping ship when you see some of the Dead,’ Kai silen
tly added to himself, his eyes briefly flicking to Fran and wondering if she guessed his ulterior motive.

  ‘Erm, yeah… sure,’ said Tom, faltering slightly as he slowly reached to take Star’s reins from the younger man already exiting the driving seat. ‘No problem, I’ll drive.’

  As Tom and Kai swapped positions in the cart, Kai caught Fran looking at him; it was clear from her expression that she had indeed guessed his motives. Unfortunately from the silent ‘that wasn’t very subtle’ roll of her eyes and disapproving shake of her head that it was also clear that she thought Tom had too.

  Mouthing a silent ‘sorry’, Kai made room on the crowded bench opposite Fran and awkwardly sat down.

  ‘Right, you make yourself useful and...’ she started to say to Kai, waving away his apology; after all, in the grand scheme of things what was a few hurt feelings if it kept you alive for another day,‘ have a…’

  Just then cart lurched abruptly to one side.

  ‘Christ, Tom!’ she grumbled. ‘We want to get there in one piece.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Tom muttered in reply. ‘Potholes.’

  ‘Potholes,’ she parroted, sounding a little unconvinced by his apology and expecting he was teaching them a lesson. ‘Anyway… Kai,’ she at last continued, indicating to a wooden box under the bench he was sat on, ‘have a look through that will you. See if you can find me a pair of scissors.’

  ‘Scissors?’ he asked, already reaching between his legs to pull the box out from beneath him.

  ‘Yes, scissors,’ she replied, lifting up a heavily matted clump of the dog’s fur between her fingers. ‘Time someone had a haircut.’

  ***

  ‘We’re just coming up to the first cottage now,’ whispered Tom, glancing back at Fran and Kai, some twenty minutes later as they began their approach on the village of Chacewater.

  ‘And?’ asked Fran, his slight frown causing her to gently push aside the small dog with its choppy new haircut and move to stand behind him.

  ‘Well,’ he replied, his hushed tone telling her the Dead were nearby, ‘for a village, even one of this size, there’s already a lot of corpses on the road ahead.’

  ‘What sort of state are they in? Fresh?’ she asked, looking over his shoulder so she could see the road ahead of them for herself.

  ‘No,’ he replied, thoughtfully rubbing the stubble on his chin against the back of his hand, ‘no, they’re no fresher than you’d expect.’

  ‘So wh…what’s the problem?’ whispered Kai, unsure what it was about these particular walking cadavers that had caused Tom to question their appearance.

  ‘It’s just that I wouldn’t expect there to be so many… not on a middle-of-nowhere road like this and on the outskirts of the village… especially after all this time,’ he said, briefly looking over his shoulder to Kai.

  ‘Hmm… you’re right,’ agreed Fran, watching the dozen or so corpses shuffling aimlessly along the country road. ‘There shouldn’t be this many. If we were already in the village proper, then perhaps… but not yet. Not here… not this far out. It is odd but what can we do?’ she at last continued, picking up the folded map to double check their positon relative to the bulk of village. ‘Look, we’re planning on bypassing most of Chacewater as it is… I say we carry on, take it slow and keep an eye out for trouble… just in case.’

  ‘Okay,’ mumbled Tom, giving Star’s reins a gentle flick to urge her onward, ‘carry on, it is.’

  And so with little more than the rhythmic ‘clip-clop’ of Star’s hooves and the creaking of the turning wheels to compete with the sound of decaying corpses dragging themselves one torturous footstep at a time along the chipped and broken tarmac, they made their way past the first dilapidated cottage.

  ‘Looks nice,’ thought Fran, watching through one of the spyholes as they passed by; the small building appearing strangely untouched by the apocalypse that had occurred around it apart from a single shattered window with an old tattered curtain flapping in the breeze.

  She was just wondering whether the person who had lived there had managed to escape the Dead that had fought their way into the small picturesque home, when there was a dull ‘thump’ against the front of the cart.

  ‘Hmm… probably not,’ she silently admitted to herself, realising they had just bumped the first of the Dead on the road out of their way.

  With her eye still close to the small opening, she watched as a mass of filthy hair and rags briefly tumbled past her line of sight. Whatever the Dead creature had been in life, male or female, it had been short enough for her to only see the top of its insect invested head as it was knocked out of their way. Moving to another hole to follow its progress, she saw it stumble into a large swathe of tall stinging nettles by the side of the road, briefly steadying itself and then trip over some unseen object in its path; disappearing from sight entirely. But this was only the first of their unwelcome travelling companions, for no sooner had the wild haired thing fallen from view than there was another bang against the side of the cart, soon followed by another and yet another; each thud a unknowing calling card of the Dead as they made their brief presence known.

  Beside her, Fran felt the body of the small Terrier tense; sensing the danger of the creatures passing by. For a moment she feared it was going to bark; alerting the Dead to their presence and forcing them to try to dispatch all of the corpses on the road just to get through.

  ‘Don’t!’ she mutely projected, quickly taking the dog’s muzzle in her hand to make him look at her.

  The Terrier snorted warm breath across her hand as it cleared it’s nostrils but thankfully simply looked up at her and made no sound.

  ‘Good boy,’ mumbled Fran, stroking the dogs head and ears; her words barely above that of a whisper as she tried to keep the animal calm.

  Making sure to hold the dog’s gaze, least he start to panic, it took her a moment to realise that Tom was softly clicking his finger; trying to get her attention.

  ‘What?’ she gestured with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Waving her over, Tom nodded towards the road in front of them and more importantly to two specific walking corpses some twenty metres ahead; they were, or rather had once been, soldiers. Dressed in green camouflage fatigues now torn and stained dark with what had presumably been blood, the two Dead men were in a sorry state. The first, a young man when the Dead had claimed him, was missing an arm and his grey tinged bare chest had been stripped of much of the skin and muscle on one side, exposing the yellowing bones of his ribcage. His fellow conscript, on the other hand, had been older and seemed to be almost intact. That was until Fran studied him more closely and noticed the dark stain down one shoulder leading from the ragged flap where his right ear should have been.

  ‘Now, what are they doing here?’ Tom whispered, directly into Fran’s ear as she looked over his shoulder.

  Reaching for the folded map, Fran studied it and then shook her head, clearly bewildered as she handed it over to Kai.

  ‘Nothing,’ she whispered back, ‘no obvious army bases or anything... could be deserters, perhaps two men just trying to get home to their families and they didn’t make it?’

  ‘Hmm… I guess so,’ Tom muttered in reply, watching as the one armed soldier almost fell as it stumbled over the road’s frost-and-thaw damaged surface. ‘They’ve been dead for ages but I still don’t like it.’

  Of course when the Dead first came to blight humanity it wasn’t unheard of to find scattered soldiers, fleeing from the deadly wastelands that the cities had become, only to then reform hotchpotch squadrons to keep strategic positions and supply lines active. But unless there was something nearby that they were missing, neither Tom nor Fran could see anything on the map that would warrant a military presence here so far from any major town or anything of importance.

  ‘Look,’ whispered Kai, suddenly thrusting the folded map in front of Tom and Fran, his finger silently tracing a line up and over onto the next folded section.

  ‘The river
!’ sighed Fran, realising it should have been obvious.

  Not only did it lead to the coast and out into the English Channel but within four or so miles east it was crossed by a motorway leading north towards the larger towns beyond.

  ‘So we might be looking at what’s left of some type of fall back positon,’ whispered Tom, dropping his voice even lower as the Dead soldiers shuffled closer. ‘Perhaps a stop-off point before survivors tried to make a break for the coast or even an ad-hoc military base for supply runs back up the motorway to somewhere bigger.’

  ‘Hmm…’ agreed Fran, chewing on her lip as a thought formed in her head.

  ‘What?’ gestured Tom, not speaking aloud, now that the Dead were almost upon them.

  Pressing her lips close to his ear and cupping it with her hand to keep the sound escaping to a minimum Fran whispered her reply.

  ‘So why are their corpses still here after all this time,’ she began, pausing as the first Dead man ambled past Star and the front of their cart. ‘And if there was some sort of camp set up…’ she at last continued, watching the soldier’s cadaver pass them by, ‘where are the rest of them?’

  ***

  It wasn’t until they had made their way past the village sports field, the high chain-link fence still enclosing the flapping remains of a sea of weather-worn tents, that they began to get an idea of what had happened.

  ‘Oh, Christ!’ spat Tom, shaking his head as he looked at the row upon row of torn tents barely clinging to their metal framework. ‘A refugee camp.’

  ‘Why’s that a bad thing?’ asked Kai in a whisper, unsure why it would fill Tom with such dread.

  ‘They were death traps,’ Fran flatly replied, fighting the images of bloody carnage that played across her memory. ‘You were safe behind the stone walls of your school, you wouldn’t know,’ she continued, looking over at Kai as she shook herself from her dark thoughts. ‘People were sent to these places, sent by people they trusted and they went willingly. They took their children, the people they loved, their families, they grabbed this meagre offer of hope to escape the horror spreading about them.’