Fear the Dead (Book 3) (13 page)

19

I shivered
as we walked back into the settlement. Billy tapped Steve’s baseball bat
against his shoulder like a player trundling off the field after a defeat. Lou
seemed lost in thought. I wondered if she was thinking the same things as me.
About how the wave were coming, and we’d just seen our best chance of stopping
it blow up in a spray of bone fragments and body parts. We’d failed everyone,
and we’d done it with the most ridiculous mistake possible.

Rain
drizzled down, pattered on my coat and ran down my sleeves. It collected in the
cracks of the cobblestones and mixed with the dirt. I wondered what I was going
to say to Victoria. It seemed likely she would just throw us out of the
settlement. Not only had we failed, but we’d let one of her guards get killed.

Melissa
stood in front of a building in the town centre. It was an old bank with
scaffolding erected around the sides. Before the outbreak they must have been
doing work on it, and in the years since there had been no point taking it
down. I doubted anyone was looking to open a savings account these days, so 
the bank didn’t need to look pretty.

Melissa
stared up toward the roof. When we got closer, I heard her shout.

“Stop being
an idiot. Just get down.”

There was a
look of panic on her face. When I reached her, she turned and stared at me. Her
eyes were red around the edges.

“Kyle, thank
god. Can you talk some sense into him? He’s going to slip and kill himself.”

Justin sat
at the top of the building with his legs hooked over the metal bars of the
scaffolding. The only thing steadying him was a steel bar that he gripped. One
gust of wind would blow him straight off and splatter him on the ground.

“What the
hell is he doing?” I said.

“He didn’t
say anything to me before he did it, just climbed up there.”

It seemed
like Justin was always giving Melissa something to worry about, but this time
was different. Her eyes were wide and her stare was hollow.

I’d known
something was going on with Justin for a while now, but I’d let it slide. I’d
just let him get on with things as though he would magically get better. I was
his friend, and I should have done something long before now. He sat on the
scaffolding with his feet dangling over the ledge, one slip away from falling
to the ground. The height didn’t seem to bother him. Instead, he just stared
blankly ahead.

Part of me
knew I should have done something long before now. But another part of me
thought,
I’ve got other things to worry about. There’s a wave of infected
headed straight toward the settlement and it’s not just going to kill you,
Justin. It’s going to kill every man, woman and child living here.

I pushed the
feeling away. I walked up to the bank doors, pulled the handle. It didn’t
budge.

“How did he
get up?” I asked.

“He
climbed,” said Melissa.

I looked up
at the building and gulped. Once, when I was a kid, I’d climbed an acorn tree.
I used the footholds that stuck out of the trunk and hoisted myself up until
the ground looked far away. Then I used the branches, testing their weight
before pulling myself even further up. Before long I was so high that I could
see half a mile across town. And then I looked at the ground. A shot of panic
had hit me in the chest, and I felt dizzy. I realised I wasn’t going to be able
to get down.

Never
look down
. Isn’t that what they always say when you’re climbing? After some
pissed-off looking fireman had gotten me down, my dad clipped me around the ear
and gave me a different piece of advice.
Never go up
.

“Please,
Kyle,” said Melissa.

I nodded. My
throat felt tight, so I swallowed. I was going to have to do this for my
friend. I stepped forward and gripped the first steel rung of the scaffolding.
The metal was cold and slick with the drips of rain, and it was going to make
for a slippery climb.

I climbed up
rung by rung. I didn’t look down. Instead I kept Justin firmly in my sights and
focussed on why I was doing it. It wasn’t a sky scraper, but the higher I got I
swore I could feel a breeze lapping around my head, as though I was scaling an
office block. My heart hammered, and my hands gripped on the steel as though
they were begging me not to let go. Finally I reached Justin.

We were
thirty feet up now. There was a roof behind the scaffolding, but there was a
metre gap between it. Short enough of a distance to make in a leap, but big
enough to fall through and hit the ground. I hooked one leg through a bar of
scaffolding and clung onto another bar with a steely grip.

Justin
looked at me and nodded as if I’d just met him at the bus stop.

“What the
fuck are you doing?” I said, not caring to hide the tremor in my voice.

Justin
shrugged his shoulders. His face was grey, his skin tone faded. Little red
flecks swam in the whites of his eyes, like tiny worms twisting through milk. I
dragged myself across the scaffolding inch by inch until I was next to him.

“That’s an
irrational response,” he said.

I made a
mistake. As I moved closer to Justin I looked down and saw the top of Melissa’s
head. I saw how far away the ground was. My chest was a sheet of ice.

“What?” I
choked out.

“The way
you’re gripping the bars. I bet your heart is hammering. You probably thinking
you’re going to fall. Your brain is showing all these different ways your body
will splatter on the floor.”

“No shit,” I
said.

“It’s a
survival mechanism. By making you think of how easy it is to die, your brain is
trying to force you to be careful. A part of your brain doesn’t want to be up
here; it knows how dangerous it is. But you’re also in control. And the
rational part of you knows there’s no way you’re going to fall unless you
actually decide to let go.”

I was
fighting between panic and anger. Part of me was shot cold with fear of the
height, and another part wanted to grab Justin and shake him.

Justin
carried on. “Take a deep breath. Know that you’re in control. That you won’t
fall unless you choose to.”

“So I guess
nobody ever died accidentally?” I said.

Justin shook
his head. “I think deep down, everyone has a part of them that wants to die.”

I wasn’t
going to be able to talk to Justin while my body was screaming at me in terror.
I needed to calm down. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and let it
fill my lungs. I tried to let my nerves settle. Then I exhaled, and I imagined
I was exhaling my fear along with it. A few more breaths and I started to feel
a little less jangled.

“Do you
actually care about her?” I said.

He looked at
me. “Melissa?”

“No, the
queen.”

“Of course I
care about Melissa.”

“Then you’ve
got to cut this shit out.”

Justin took
one hand away from the scaffold, wiped rain off his forehead. “I feel
different, Kyle. Like I’m not a person anymore. I see all these people living
here and planning for their future, working together. And I don’t see myself
being part of it. Everyone wants me gone. That Ewan guy would have thrown me
out of Bleakholt if it weren’t for you and Victoria. I’m a freak.”

I hooked my
arm around a bar and hoisted myself into a sitting position. My heart hammered
while I adjusted my balance on the bar, and I felt like I was going to tip
over. But Justin was right, it was an irrational response. If I was careful, I
wouldn’t fall.

“You’re being
a prat,” I said. “Melissa needs you. Do you think this is easy for her, seeing
you like this? You act like you don’t give a shit about anything. Half the
time, it’s like you’ve got a death wish.”

Justin hung
his head. “I don’t know what Whittaker did to me, but there’s no going back.
I’m changing. I can feel it.” When he looked at me, his pupils were black holes.
“Why didn’t the infected in the farmhouse attack me? It could easily have
gotten me, but it went for you.”

“I don’t
know.”

“Am I one of
them?”

More
raindrops splattered onto my head and dripped down my neck. A chill spread down
my spine.

“You can’t
give in. You owe it to Melissa. Until I see you chewing on a person, you’re one
of us. Now let’s get the hell off here before I start crying with panic. I’ve
got to go see Victoria.”

***

Victoria’s
office was filled with smoke. A dozen cigarette butts littered an ashtray on
the desk in front of her. She listened to my story with a cigarette in hand and
took hungry drags on the end of it. When I told her about Steve exploding, she
pounded her fist on the table. The ashtray shook, and soot spilled onto the
wood.

“For feck’s
sake,” she shouted.

“I know how
you’re feeling right now. But we’ve got to think of something else.”

She looked
up at me. Her eyes were squinty black marbles. The fury on her face reminded me
of the look my mum had once given me as a kid when she caught me stealing money
out of her purse.

“Know how
I’m feeling, do you? So you know that I think you’re a feckin' idiot?”

My blood
pumped hot in my veins. I’d expected disappointment or anger, but not this. I
wasn’t going to be spoken to in this way; it wasn’t like it had been my fault.
It was her guy who had messed things up, after all.

“You better
watch what you’re saying.”

She picked
up the cigarette from the table. It was bent out of shape from being pounded
against the wood. She flicked her lighter, lit the end of the cigarette and
sucked on it. Finally she faced me, and her eyes were a little calmer.

“I used to
have a son,” she said. “He had a condition. I’m not going to make you listen to
the details, but it was bad. We could manage it with medication and surgery
every few years, and we got by. Then all this shit happened. Suddenly,
medication and surgery weren’t available. Hospitals were emptied, and the
doctors died just like everyone else. I had to watch him die.”

I pulled out
a seat from under the table, sat down in it. I rested my arms on the desk and
leant forward.

“I’m sorry,”
I said.

Victoria
took a deep breath. The cigarette burnt between her fingers, close enough that
it would scorch her skin soon.

“I failed my
son. And I can see Bleakholt going the same way, Kyle. I couldn’t protect him,
and I can’t protect the people out there.”

I knew
exactly how she felt. I’d promised to protect my wife, and I had failed. And
when I thought of it, my stomach burned. I knew what it was like to blame
yourself.

“We won’t
give up,” I said.

Victoria
straightened up and shook her shoulders as if casting off her mood. The steely
glare was back in her eyes.

“Then the
only way we can stop the wave is with pure numbers. With my Bleakholt people,
we don’t have a chance. But if the Vasey campers were to help, the odds change
a little.”

“No way,” I
said.

“I know how
you feel about them. I know how they betrayed you. I know about Moe, and how
you feel when you look at him. But you’ve got to put your feelings to one side
for the good of Bleakholt.”

She didn’t
know the half of it. She couldn’t possibly understand what happened when I thought
of Moe. The acid that poured through my veins and feelings that blinded every
thought except one. When I thought of Moe, I was like a shark in a feeding
frenzy. I wanted to tear him apart for what he’d done.

“Kyle?”

“I can’t do
it Victoria.”

“Think of
all the lives we could save if you can put your feelings to one side.”

I thought
about what Justin said. That there’s two parts of you; one that acts on
instinct, and another that is rational. The rational part of me knew that
saving the lives of everyone in Bleakholt far outweighed my need for revenge.
No matter how much hate burned through me, I was going to have to do it.

“I want you
to speak to Moe,” said Victoria. “And offer him a place in the settlement.”

20

I found
myself walking to the Vasey camp site again. Dawn was rising on a new day, but
the same old feelings bubbled up through my stomach. When I thought of Moe my
body flinched with hate. I knew I had to swallow the feelings down like a sour
medicine. As much as I hated Moe and everyone who had followed him, Bleakholt
needed their numbers.

The scout
who had first seen the wave had taken it upon himself to be Bleakholt’s
infected watchman. He reported on their progress by radio every few hours, and
his voice was always full of shock. I knew how he felt; ever since I’d first
seen the wave, I hadn’t been able to get them out of my head either. It was a
sight that was horrible and incredible in equal measures. Half a million dead
faces pointed in our direction, half a million dead legs dragging hungry
corpses closer. They were a week away, at most. That’s all the time we had to
prepare.

Victoria had
decided that the scouts needed to give a signal when the infected got to the
hills. The scout, a military memorabilia enthusiast, had chosen a war horn. He
couldn’t demonstrate it for me because he said it would shatter my ear drums,
but he said he would blow it when he saw the wave reach the hills. When we
heard the noise of the horn, we knew that things had gotten bad. We needed to
figure something out before we heard it

Lou walked
beside me. She’d been quiet lately, saving her usual sarcastic cracks in place
of silence. I couldn’t forget what she and Billy had done, but I was thankful
for her coming with me to see Moe. If anyone knew how I felt about the man, it
was her.

“I need you
to watch me,” I told her.

“Isn’t Moe
the one to watch?”

I shook my
head. My feet crunched on the frozen plains. “Keep an eye on me. If I’m
starting to lose it, get me out of there.”

“Is it
really that bad?”

I’d always
been a calm guy. Back when I was a teacher, a kid called Damien Brown always
tried to wind me up. As well as teaching English I was also stand-in for the
school football team when the PE teacher was off. For one match I decided to
leave Damien out of the side. His attitude was just wrong, and he was a bad
influence on the other boys. Damien didn’t take too kindly to that.

He spent the
next year doing everything he could to piss me off. He missed homework
assignments and scratched my car with his keys. He talked rubbish about me and
my wife on social media. At that point I could have exploded, but I didn’t. I
let it wash over me. I remembered a proverb about being a rock in a stream,
keeping steady while you let all the shit trickle over you until it was out of
sight.

I couldn’t
do that with Moe.

“I can’t
control myself when I see his smug face,” I said. “I’m worried that if he says
the wrong word I’ll just kill him right there. And then the Vasey campers will
run riot, and Victoria won’t get the bodies that she needs.”

Lou reached
across and squeezed my shoulder. The physical contact felt alien when it came
from her.

“My brother
didn’t love much,” she said, “but one thing he did love was heroin. Couldn’t
get enough of it. He stole from me, my parents, and his friends. If he ever
spoke to you, it was to use you, all with one goal in mind – getting more
stuff. It broke my parents. My dad was fifty-six, but he looked eighty. White
hair, sagging skin. It used to make me sick.”

“I’m sorry,”
I said.

“My brother
disappeared for three years. My parents were sick with worry, and they aged
even more. Mom got admitted to hospital, and dad’s hands started shaking, like,
all the time. I hated my brother for that, and I used to imagine killing him. Think
of that! A sister wanting to kill her little brother. But when he came to me
asking for help, saying he didn’t want money this time, he wanted to quit, I
knew I had to put those feelings to one side. For the good of my parents.”

“And did you
help him?”

Lou nodded.
“Took him to rehab the same night.”

“How did
that go?” I asked.

“He stayed
there a month. Came out looking fantastic. Clean skin, a smile on his face,
talking about the future. Then within a week of being out he bumped into an old
pal, and before I knew it he was using again.”

We got to
the edge of the Vasey campsite. It was worse than when I’d last seen it. The
tents were sagging as if they were lungs on the verge of collapsing. Litter was
strewn around. There was a hint of faeces in the air, like a hundred unwashed
bodies excreting their dirt and not being able to wash it off. I zipped up my
coat and covered my chin, but the material wouldn’t stretch to my nose.

Moe had the
biggest tent. It was a twenty-man tent, big enough to be a marque. It was like
the Vasey settlers were a travelling army, and being the general, Moe had taken
the war tent. Two men stood outside, guarding. I recognised them as the men I’d
seen days ago tying another man to a tree. They saw me, and scowls crawled onto
their faces.

I wondered
if they were going to block my way, but when we approached they stepped aside.
When we got into the tent, the putrid smell vanished. Moe’s tent was fragrant,
like someone had shaken talcum powder over the floor. Moe lay in the corner on
a camp bed, his head propped up by pillows, a book on his chest.

He put the
book down. When he saw us, hate flickered on his face and then disappeared,
like a flash of lightening that you weren’t completely sure you saw.

“Kyle,” he
said in a syrupy voice, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

My blood
boiled in my veins. I wanted to punch him. I could almost feel the warm glow
that would spread through me when my fist connected with his nose. I wanted to
cover his smug face in blood.

“We need to
talk,” I said.

He moved
into a sitting position, swung his legs over the side of the camp bed. In
comparison to the rest of the Vasey campers, Moe looked well fed. Just past
him, in the corner of the tent, was a stockpile of food. I wondered if the rest
of the Vasey people knew that he had it. I wondered if anyone of them would
even dare to stand up to Moe.

“You know me
Kyle,” he said. “I love a good talk. So shoot.”

Bile slid up
my throat. I needed to keep calm. Half of me wanted to kill Moe, and the other
half wanted to get as far away from here as I could. But I needed to do this
for the others. If I went back without making a deal, then Bleakholt was
screwed.

Lou put her
hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I appreciated the support, even if
her touching me still felt strange.

“Victoria’s
got a proposition,” I said, the bile thick in my throat. “I don’t know if you
know this, but the wave is coming. It’s a week away at the most, and there’s no
getting round it. We’re going to have to fight. Thing is, the only chance any
of us have got is if we join together.”

Moe brushed
his hair back other his ears. The long strands hung over his back like old
rope. “Join together and do what?”

“Fight the
wave. Together.”

He got to
his feet, his knees clicking at the sudden movement. I realised how old Moe
really was. He kept himself in as good a shape as you could expect for someone
who lived in the Wilds, but there was a tiredness behind his eyes. His skin
sagged like it was stretched by the horrors he’d seen, the things he’d put his
body through.

“After we
left Vasey,” he said. “I thought about you sometimes, Kyle. Wondered how you
were doing. A part of me even felt bad for leaving you. But then I thought
‘No. He went off chasing the wave of infected. Clinging to the Vasey dream like
it was actually going to work.
’”

I opened my
mouth to speak, but Moe held a hand in front of him.

“Let me
finish. A few days after we left people started hearing things in the night.
Cries in the forest that came from a hundred directions at once. The cries got
closer every night. One evening, we heard something scraping on the floor. It
was pitch fucking dark and we couldn’t see anything, but I knew what it was.”

“Stalkers,”
I said.

He nodded.
“What else? If it ain’t the fucking infected tearing you apart in the day, the
stalkers come to finish the job at night. And boy did they finish it. Night
after night they came. Didn’t matter how many lookouts we had, the sneaky
bastards would always find a crack in our defence to crawl through. They’d take
people in their tents. People would wake up to find one of the bastards next to
them, tearing open their husband’s belly with their claws. Chewing on their
kid's faces, giving them that sick goddamn grin while they did it.”

“It was
night after night after night. Got to the point where I started to tune out the
cries. Thought I could accept it, like it was just another part of life I had
to chew down. But you can’t tune it out, Kyle. You can’t ignore the sound of a
mother weeping because she’s watched a stalker eat her son’s face and then drag
him away to its nest.”

I gulped,
felt a wave of pity wash over me. I knew what it felt like to be in the Wilds
at night listening to every noise, scared that it might be an infected or a stalker.
I’d watched people get eaten, carved up, torn apart. Nothing could prepare you
for it, and it never got any easier.

“All the
more reason we have to help each other,” I said. “We have to get together and
fight. Otherwise, the same thing is going to happen.”

Moe’s face
was pale. The strands of his beard looked greyer and seemed so weak they might
fall out and scatter on the tent floor like feathers.

“No,” he
said. “It won’t happen again. Because we’re going to take Bleakholt. Run back
to Victoria and tell her Moe’s coming. And he’s going to take everything from
her. Bleakholt is weak, but I’m going to make it strong. And I’ll kill everyone
who blocks my way.”