Plague Of The Revenants (14 page)

On the drive back home I gave the keys to Dev and went and sat with Paul. I was sick of the sight of
Stan and Gloria for one day.
“They’re a disaster,” I said, my voice close to despair.
“Why don’t you keep them around the farm?” Suggested Paul. “Have them cook and things like that?”
“Because they’re strong enough to be doing far more than that,” I told him. “They’re young and fast and they need to be out there foraging and scavenging the same as us. This will be the rest of their lives as likely as not.”
“What are your thoughts about today?” Asked Paul.
“We won’t tell everyone what we saw,” I said. “Except Reverend Thorpe and Hammond that is. I don’t want to panic them after all. For now we’ll just say we came across this field and decided to pull it up because the potatoes wouldn’t keep much longer and the stuff in the tins at the highway would last a long time.”

The others
were waiting for us outside the church once more although the night was dark and there was a severe chill in the air. There was great surprise when we returned with two trucks filled with potatoes but this was tempered by the fact of us having returned with a full few weeks of food. They were happy enough with the potatoes but curious as to why we had seemingly abandoned our original plan. I brushed their questions away as best I could, trying not to sound deflective.
“But what about the stuff from the cars?” Asked Reverend Thorpe.
“We’ll talk about that later,” I said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Right now just be thankful we brought anything back at all.”
Thorpe nodded. He was perceptive enough not to push the matter when there were others about.
“This is the first fresh food most of us will have had for months aside from the game we might have shot every now and again,” I said. “Fresh vegetables straight from the ground and without the artificial taste of the tin. People will appreciate it for a time, until we can find something else. To starve would be even worse for morale.”
“Potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day and we’ll soon have a mutiny on our hands,” said Hammond. He said it lightly but there was a serious undertone to his words.
“We may have to get used to it,” I told him. “From now on there isn’t going to be a steady source of meat unless we’re prepared to breed it ourselves, and that’s going to take time.”
As the elders began to prepare the potatoes and Kit and Paul talked up the fresh food in a quickly thought out propaganda exercise I beckoned Reverend Thorpe into the vestry and told him what had happened. “Maybe it was a localised war,” I said after I had finished. “There must be other survivors out there, perhaps they’ve split off into factions.”
“But you said some of the revenants had been shot with a machine gun?” Said Hammond doubtfully.
“Yes but again that may not mean anything,” I replied, although there was doubt in my voice. “Any punk could have stolen a machine gun off a dead soldier. You have a point though. Whatever it is I don’t fancy being caught in the middle of it all. We’ve got our golf clubs, axes and a couple of shotguns and that works well enough against the revenants but it won’t stand up that well to any determined, organised force with a brain to use between them.”
“What reason could they have had to fight?” Asked Reverend Thorpe.
“I suppose people can always find an excuse for war,” I told him. “The only problem was one side appeared to have been greatly outnumbered, massacred even. I only saw one revenant in army uniform and believe me I was keeping my eyes peeled.”
“We can’t fight,” said Thorpe. “At least not yet. If they came by tomorrow we’d just have to surrender and hope for the best.”
“And if they decided to kill us all?” I asked him. “Maybe I’m over analysing things, but it was one hell of a statement they made, burning all those cars like that.”
“So for now we just wait?”
“I don’t see what else we can do,” I said. “We certainly don’t want to go out looking for trouble. After all, at bet they might be a roving horde, semi nomadic. Perhaps they’ll just loot the land and move on. We’ve had no signs of any permanent settlements around here. Certainly Hammond hasn’t seen anything from the tower so they can hardly be too close.”

I had found some animal traps in one of the farmhouses we had looted a few weeks back. Initially I had hoped to use them to entrap revenants but soon found the
y were too small. Nonetheless I’d had an idea. When I got up the following morning I went out and adjusted the springs on the traps so they would not immediately kill smaller prey then went out and set those traps near some rabbit warrens. The plan worked and later I came back with five live rabbits. Kit saw me as I walked towards the barn with them. “Rabbit and potato pie?” She asked me curiously.
“Not just yet,” I told her. “These rabbits are for breeding in the sheds. We can feed them the heads of the potato plants. In a month or so they’ll have started breeding and we’ll have a steady production line of meat.”
“I suppose it’s for the best if we’re not going to be able to scavenge for much longer,” said Kit.
“Where did you find the traps?”
“In one of the barns we raided,” I told her. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure it would work but last night I put some of the potato stalks inside and sure enough we came back with quite a haul.”
“Yet more mouths to feed,” sighed Kit.
“We were worried about Stan and Gloria not working hard enough for the group,” I said. “We now here’s something she can do. She can be a farmer.”
“And if she whinges on about that?”
“Then we threaten to take her out on the road with us again.”
“What about him?”
“We need him,” I replied with determination. “He has to learn.”
“Especially with that gang about,” said Kit. “Remember how we spoke the other day about this becoming a permanent thing? Well if it is to become permanent we’re going to have a showdown with that other gang someday.”
“I know,” I acknowledged. “But the longer that confrontation takes to come the more time we have to plan.”

A little later I went to see Hammond up on the roof. The policeman
had constructed himself a sort of tent in which he had placed an outside wood burner to provide him some warmth, for it was bitterly cold up here. “You see that lot over there?” Said Hammond, pointing into the distance and passing me the binoculars. “They’ve hardly stopped. In a different location every day. In my experience this means something has unsettled them, and yet I know for a fact none of our group have been close to that part of the countryside for weeks now.”
I looked towards a swarm of around two hundred revenants congregated around a farmhouse about five miles away. I recognised the place as one we had looted earlier in the autumn. “Have you seen any signs of proper life?” I asked him. “Perhaps the reason the revenants are moving is because they’ve been disturbed?”
“Funny you should say that because I’ve noticed more of them around,” said Hammond. “Of course it may be because they’re spreading out from the cities as food becomes scarce but perhaps too they’re being displaced.”
“What kind of thing would displace them?”
“Fire possibly,” he replied. “Like that blaze which took care of that line of the cars the other day. As for signs of life as we know it I’m afraid that’s inconclusive. The light isn’t good on these winter days; mostly cloud, fog and low light. There are few clear days that allow me a clear view. Every now and again, towards the evening, I get a glimpse of something I think may be headlights but then it may also just be my tired old eyes. I don’t know why they move although I don’t necessarily think they’re going towards a group of survivors as you might expect.”
After coming down from the tower I went and found Gloria who was with Stan as usual and brought her outside.
“We need that whole part of the meadow dug up,” I told her, pointing and making an imaginary line between the fence and a large tree. “We need to put up fences and partitions as well but I’ll ask Mr Frey to give you a hand with that.”
“But it’s freezing out here,” she protested.
“Yes it is,” I said reasonably. “But there are far worse places to be and at least you’ll be around the farmhouse. Besides, compared to some farms this is pretty small. There won’t be as much to do as you think once we’ve got the groundwork done. You can scythe down grass for the rabbits and you can lay out the humane traps to hopefully catch some more.”
“This is because of the other day isn’t it?” She said resentfully. “Because I took that brandy?”
“It’s because it needs doing,” I said frankly. “This isn’t an army camp and we don’t punish punitively.”
“Outside all this time?” She said fearfully.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re all fenced in. Myself and Mr Frey took care of that. But you need to work. I’ve said this to you many times before.”
Gloria was still reticent but appeared glad she would not have to go out on raids anymore.

The following day Gloria got started in the garden whilst I summoned Stan and Dev and told them we were going out scavenging. Hammond was right. The survivors could not live solely on potatoes forever without going quite mad
.
“Are we all going out?” Asked Stan.
“Just the three of us,” I said cheerfully. “We’re going to look for some tins of stuff. Potatoes are good for now but we’ll all lose our minds if we have to eat them every day. There’s a row of former council houses a few miles away. We passed it yesterday and I’m told they have yet to be raided.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to start raiding again?” Asked Reverend Thorpe with some concern.
“For now it’s our only choice,” I replied. “In the short term we might as well take what we can before it spoils. It’s not like we’re going to be able to go back there.”
“How come Gloria gets to have a farm and I have to come out and risk my neck on the fucking road?” Demanded Stan crossly.
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. It was like talking to children.
“We never asked for you to come and rescue us,” snapped Stan. “When we were back in that depot we didn’t have to go out scavenging, hunting and fighting revenants.”
“You would have done had you stayed there much longer,” I retorted. “Until we can get the farm established we’re still going to have to forage for food.”

The row of former council houses was located down a narrow by road and concealed by trees which was probably why we had missed th
em up until now. I didn’t want to do too much more looting what with winter now descended upon us and the unknown threat of the other survivors which was why I wanted to bleed dry what we hadn’t already looted. I also wanted to take Stan out as a point of principle so that he had the chance to redeem himself following his performance the other day. The first two houses passed by uneventfully. There was a broken window in whilst the front door was swinging on its hinges on the other. I presumed the former occupants had long since turned and gone. When we approached the third house I was instantly wary. The doors were locked, the windows closed and intact. I tried the front door, motioning for the other two to remain behind me. It was open. I stepped cautiously inside the hallway and I felt a familiar dread. I had been through too many of these moments already and my nerves were shot to pieces. I peered into the kitchen then looked into the living room, looked through at the conservatory beyond. So far all clear.
“It’s clear,” said Stan arrogantly. “You know the signs by now don’t you? There’s nothing here, nothing knocked over. It’s all neat as fuck. Come on; let’s just loot it up and get out of here. I want to go home.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” I warned him. “You’re usually the first to shit yourself and running screaming for the van when real danger appears. If you’re really so confident why don’t you go check upstairs?” I offered him the hammer. He looked from it to me, then took it. “Fine,” he said sulkily. “But I’m telling you I can spot the signs, smell the stink. You need to open your nose up mate.” And with that he stomped loudly off upstairs.
“I don’t know how you were able to stand him for so long with just the three of you in that wood depot,” I said to Dev as we emptied out the cupboards. There was a moderately good haul here, enough to feed people on its own for a couple of days. With the potatoes and a bit of creativity from the cooks it would last a lot longer. Heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs and Stan appeared. “It’s all clear but there’s nothing up there,” he said dismissively.
“No bedding? Toiletries?”
“Well yeah I expect so but I…”
“You haven’t looked,” I spat contemptuously. “The amount of time you’ve been up there you could have come back with a couple of sacksful by now.”
“It’s all just old women clothes,” replied Stan. “Just dresses and shit. We don’t want any of that.”
“Oh no? So where the hell are we going to find a tailor in this new world?” I asked him archly. “We need all the clothes we can get, even if we store them for years. Also, if this is an old person’s house there’s likely to be medicine. Did you check the bathroom?”
“Checked it for revenants,” replied Stan with a shrug.
I shook my head and angrily threw the last of the cans into the rucksack. “Here,” I said crossly, thrusting the bag into his hands. “Take this back to the truck then come back up. I suppose I’m just going to have to clear the place out myself.”
As I climbed the stairs with the second empty rucksack in my hand it dawned on me that actually Stan hadn’t done too badly. He had checked out the rooms himself. Maybe there was some hope for him after all. I turned left at the top of the stairs and entered the bathroom, opened up the cabinet. There were a few boxes of pills with names I didn’t recognise and some aspirin, also some bleach by the side. I took it all and crossed into the bedroom. It was, as Stan had said, an old person’s house, probably occupied by a lone woman judging by some of the clothes in the first cabinet. I stepped back into the bedroom and began to empty out the drawers. The revenant lurched out of the cupboard, half falling on to my shoulder. I let out a cry of horror and leapt back but the thing’s reflexes were almost as quick and it latched its rotten, claw like hands around my neck. I deliberately went down and rolled the thing over on top of me, kicked out as I rolled and sent it flying against the bed. I was on my feet in a moment and swung the bedside chair at its head as it tried to get up, delaying it even further. Dev and Stan were alerted by the commotion and came to investigate, with Stan hanging back fearfully. I seized the hammer from him and turned around, charging back into the bedroom to pummel the revenant’s head into the carpet.
“This is the second time in a week you’ve almost killed me!” I thundered. Stan shrank back. He was not laughing now. In a supreme act of self-control I let go of the hammer. What happened afterwards was a blur. I advanced forward quickly and began to attack Stan, pummelling him with my bare fists. I felt a familiar mist descend as I started to lose control. I was dimly aware of Dev crying out for me to stop but at the time I barely heard him. The next thing I remember is slumping back against the wall, my fist aching and covered in blood. Stan lay on the floor before me, being attended to by Dev. His face appeared to have been almost completely caved in.
“Take him back to the van and lie him down,” I said as I fought to regain control over my emotions. “I’ll take the last house myself.”