Star Drawn Saga (Book 1): Death Among The Dead: A Zombie Novel (26 page)

‘I want to go on boat!’ cried Peter, suddenly interested in what the adults were discussing. ‘Can I go on the boat? Me and Bella will be good, really good, I promise. Please, please, can we go.’

‘I think Scott may have already left, Brother Gregory,’ Beth replied, turning to smile at Peter as she pulled a gold chain with an oval pendant out from under her blouse. ‘Hmm… I suppose you may still catch him though,’ she continued, flipping it open to reveal a delicately engraved clock face, ‘and I’m sure he’d be glad of the company.’

‘Can we go now then?’ asked Peter, starting to pull at Brother Gregory’s sleeve. ‘Can we go?’

‘Peter,’ warned Riley, noticing the look Brother Gregory was giving the hand that had suddenly latched onto his arm.

‘Come on, Peter,’ added Jane, gently unhooking the excited young man’s fingers from the folds of Brother Gregory’s sleeve. ‘Let Brother Gregory go. He can’t lead us down to the harbour with you hanging on his arm, now can he, hmm?’

‘Yes, Jane,’ Peter replied, rocking backwards and forwards as he rapidly open and closed his fists as if trying to use up the excitement running through him. ‘No, Jane. Sorry, Mr Gregory, sorry.’

‘Brother Gregory,’ he corrected, giving Peter a disapproving look.

Once again the uncomfortable silence briefly descended upon the group, until, realising if he ever wanted to rid himself of this babysitting duty he had better get them to the harbour as soon as possible, Brother Gregory simply marched off; a brief wave to those behind him the only indication that they were to follow, that or he was bidding an uncharacteristically familiar farewell to Roy, Beth and Kasey.

‘What a twat,’ mumbled Tom under his breath as he looked from Brother Gregory’s back to nod a polite goodbye to Roy, Kasey and Beth.

Obviously having misjudged the volume of his grumble, Tom noticed Roy’s mouth twitch into a grin; quickly hidden behind the man’s sudden urge to scratch his nose.

‘Look, I don’t do relaxing very well, so if you need any help checking the cliffs again later…’ said Tom, letting his offer of help hang between them.

‘Yeah, sure, that’d be much appreciated,’ Roy replied, his eyes drifting to the twin blades Tom had strapped to his back. ‘Just come find me and we’ll check them together.’

‘Will do,’ said Tom, giving Roy another nod before turning to catch up with the rest of the group which seemed to be leaving him behind once again.

Although what he had said was partly true, Tom also had another motive for checking the cliffs. For even as he spoke to Roy he fought to keep his tenuous hold on reality and he knew these cliffs with their possible harvest of the Dead they offered, were his only chance to silence the voices, if only for a short while.

‘Soon,’ he hissed, knowing his slaughtered wife and daughters heard him no matter how quietly he spoke. ‘Yes, I will, I promise… soon.’

***

Walking past row upon row of vegetables, fragrant herbs and heavily laden fruit bushes, the small group followed Brother Gregory along the zigzagging gravel path as it made its way down the cultivated cliff face and back towards the small village-like collection of buildings at its base.

‘Oh, Damn,’ sighed Brother Gregory, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand as he looked out over the row of cottages just below him to the set of grubby sails moving slowly the past the harbour wall and out into open water, ‘he’s already left.’

Less interested that his charges had missed out on their boat trip and more concerned that he was going to be stuck with them for the rest of the day, Brother Gregory mentally flicked through the limited options available to him. It was only when he noticed the smoke lazily drifting up from one the cottages that an idea came to him.

‘Change of plan,’ he said, briefly glancing over his shoulder. ‘It appears that Scot’s already left for Foster’s rock so…’

‘But…but I want to go on the boat,’ interrupted Peter, his excitement visibly crumbling as he started to nervously pull at his ear. ’You… you said we could go on the boat.’

‘Yeah, well, that ship has sailed, Einstein,’ said Max, snidely laughing at his own joke.

With a look of confusion adding to the childlike disappointment already etched on his face, Peter looked from Max to Jane and then to Fran, hoping that one of the two women could somehow make Brother Gregory change his mind.

‘The fisherman’s already gone out to do his work, Peter,’ said Fran, hoping to make him understand.

‘But Mr Gregory said,’ Peter began to protest.

‘Yes, Peter, I know what Brother Gregory said,’ said Jane, emphasising the word Brother in the hope it would help him remember to use it, ‘but the fisherman is obviously very busy, isn’t he… he needs to catch lots of fish to help feed all the people here.’

‘But…’ Peter started to say again, the nervous tugging on his earlobe increasing.

‘Peter… Peter, this is your home now… this is our home now,’ Jane continued, taking the young man’s chin in her hand to force him to look at her. ‘You’re going to have a whole lifetime to go out on that boat and help the fisherman if you want to… you… you can wait one more day, can’t you… hmm?’

‘I… I suppose,’ huffed Peter, chewing on his lip petulantly.

‘Anyway, I’m sure we can find something just as fun to do,’ offered Riley, noticing his father’s silent prompting to lighten Peter’s mood.

‘Hey, if I can borrow some rods, how about I show you and Riley how to fish for crabs off the harbour wall?’ suggested Dave, hopeful that he could not only distract Peter and Riley for a while but also give himself time to think of just how he was going to tell Max his news. ‘Would you like that, Peter?’

‘You’ll have to watch they don’t nip your nose with their claws,’ smiled Fran.

‘Yes,’ said Jane, jokingly tweaking Peter’s nose between her finger and thumb to pretend to have plucked it from his face, ‘you don’t want to be walking about with no nose, now, do you?’

‘Nip your nose,’ laughed Peter, covering his own nose with his hand as he reached over to pinch Jane’s in return, any disappointment suddenly forgotten by their new game. ‘Nip your nose, nip your nose!’

‘For fuck’s sake!’ grumbled Max, watching Peter joyfully dance from one foot to the other. ‘Do I really have to waste what time I’ve got left alive on this planet listening to this bullshit?’

‘No, Max, just until the tide turns,’ sighed Fran, turning to give him a bored blank stare.

As far as Fran was concerned Max had made just one too many comments to put it down to him being angry or upset about not being able to stay on the island. The man was clearly a pig and no matter what she said nothing would change that; he was simply beyond bothering with and quite frankly the sooner they parted company for good the better.

‘And then you’ll have a whole new set of bullshit to deal with… won’t you?’ she continued, reminding him that the moment he left the island his life would once again be a living nightmare from hell.

With a scowl contorting his features, Max glared at Fran and was about to open his mouth to say something in return when he noticed Kai and Tom had surreptitiously moved closer to her, their very presence a clear warning to keep his opinions to himself.

‘This is fucking bullshit,’ Max grumbled under his breath, shaking his head before angrily spitting out a mouthful of thick phlegm.

‘If you don’t mind, Mr Harper,’ sneered Brother Gregory, disapprovingly glancing toward the glob of spittle that had landed dangerously close to his shoe.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence under Brother Gregory’s judgemental glare, Max at last shrugged his shoulders and begrudgingly ‘harrumphed’ an apology.

Brother Gregory knew this was the best he could hope to get out of such a man and after giving Max one final critical glance, ‘tutted’, and began to walk off; once again sure in the assumption the others would simply follow him regardless.

***

The old black and white collie lay on the sun warmed cobbles, his head resting wearily upon his paws while he followed the movement of the scrawny chicken in front of him. Despite his hunger he knew better than to try to catch the feathery meal that pecked furiously among the cracks in search of its own sustenance, after all the old man had trained him well. Thinking of his old friend and master, the collie subconsciously sniffed the air checking for the special tell-tale smell that only his old man seemed to hold. A mix of wood smoke, fish and today something sweet and fruity filled the collie’s nose, letting him know the man was very close by. Lately there was also another smell about his old friend; a strange and yet hidden smell of wrongness that worried the dog on a deeply primal level. Just what it was he could not comprehend but he knew it made him anxious and caused him to want to stay close to his friend, just in case. 

Suddenly a new scent came to him on the wind; a smell sparking memories full of interest and youthful excitement. Lifting his head up from his paws the old collie eagerly inhaled the recognisable odour of one of his own kind and instantly knew the female was close.

‘
Looks like I was right,
’ thought Brother Gregory as he rounded the corner and saw Frank White’s faithful collie rise swiftly to its feet, tail wagging. ‘
He’s home.’

Knowing that the grumpy old fisherman rarely went anywhere without his equally belligerent dog by his side, it was a pretty safe bet that the old man was home; the soft wispy trail of smoke rising up into the clear blue sky only adding to this assumption and in fact if Brother Gregory hadn’t seen the smoke earlier he may not have had the idea to off load his impromptu tour guide duties on the old man at all. After all with Scott already out at sea, Rod partly incapacitated and presumably still recovering from his unexpected stay among the Corrupt, who better to show the group around their small harbour than a man who had worked these waters for over fifty years.

‘Frank, Frank White, are you there?’ called Brother Gregory, wary of the dog advancing towards him, despite its friendly appearance.

‘Another dog!’ cried Peter from behind him. ‘Look, Bella, another dog for you to play with.’

Glancing back at the group following in his wake, Brother Gregory gave Peter an irritated but brief disapproving look. It was clear Father Matthew had already taken a shine to the mentally challenged young man, his innocence a strange beacon to the man in these dark times and because of it Brother Gregory would have be mindful how he treated him, especially in Father Matthew’s presence.

‘Peter… I’m talking,’ Brother Gregory simply said, placing his finger to his lips to shush Peter’s excitable ramblings.

Mirroring Brother Gregory’s action, Peter tapped a finger repeatedly to his own smiling lips to show that he understood.

‘Thank you,’ Brother Gregory continued with a nod, before turning back just in time to side-step the collie as it trotted past him to make acquaintance with the Alsatian bitch.

‘And what do you want?’ said the old man slowly making his way through the open doorway, his frail looking hands clinging to the door surround for support.

‘Ah, Frank,’ Brother Gregory began, noticing and taking note of the way the old man moved, ‘I thought you may like to meet our new guests… some of them will be staying with us permanently.’

‘Is that so?’ the old man mused, his watery eyes moving from one face to the next. ‘Lucky them.’

‘You’ll have to forgive Mr White,’ said Brother Gregory, turning to address the group behind him, his features momentarily twisted by a clearly insincere smile. ‘He is yet to open his heart to Father Matthew and the Lord and accept the grace being offered him.’

‘Huh, I see Father Matthew gets top billing,’ whispered Fran to Kai. ‘Looks like God needs to get a better agent.’

Forced to hide his amusement behind a sudden cough, Kai glanced at the young woman stood beside him, her eyes full of sparkling mischief. Then, as his gaze drifted down to a soft mouth moulded into a playful smile, he knew that in that moment there was nothing in the world he wanted to do more than to pull her to him and feel the touch of her lips on his. Somehow as if she sensed his thoughts, Fran’s smile slowly began to falter as she looked back at him, the mischief also gradually fading from her eyes only to be replaced by something else; something less definable yet ultimately more telling. For a few seconds they simply looked at each other, suddenly oblivious to the world around them as they stood close enough to touch, yet both unable to breach the chasm between them.

‘So that’s settled then,’ they both heard Brother distantly saying somewhere beyond the insular world they had momentarily created, ‘I’ll leave you in Mr White’s capable hands and after the evening meal someone will show you where you’ll be sleeping tonight…. Until then.’

Out of the corner of her eye Fran saw the figure of Brother Gregory briskly marching away, obviously keen to wash his hands of his troublesome charges.

‘We… we’d better get going,’ Fran managed to say, her words barely above that of a whisper despite the effort she felt to force them from her. ‘We don’t want to be left behind.’

‘No, we don’t,’ Kai softly replied, his stammer for once noticeable only by its absence.

‘Fran, I…’ Kai started to say, his words abruptly cut short by the throaty cough of someone trying to gain their attention.