Star Drawn Saga (Book 1): Death Among The Dead: A Zombie Novel (39 page)

‘Tom!’ she shouted, ‘Tom, look at me!’

Slowly the shattered figurine gave up its hold on him and as he lifted his gaze once more, Tom at last saw her.

‘Fran?’ he said, his eyes flicking to Brother Mark stood in front of him, clutching a knife defensively. ‘I… I guess we have a problem,’ he continued, glancing down at the two headless corpses at his feet.

‘You could say that, yes,’ she replied, deftly closing the gap between them and purposefully putting herself between him and Brother Mark. ‘The Dead are on the island, we don’t know how many more survivors there are and have no idea how it all started.’

As she made the last statement she gave him a look, a look unseen by Brother Mark but whose meaning was quite clear to Tom; it said ‘I hope to God you didn’t cause this!’. Tom opened his mouth as if to reply but no words came. He knew no matter what he said it would be a lie, just what had happened over the last few hours was a mystery locked within his mind and if he had actually caused all this or not, he simply had no idea.

Turning away from Tom, Fran looked back at Brother Mark and Graham. She was about to speak when she noticed a second painted figurine clutched tightly in Graham’s hand. Throwing something at Tom had been a simple idea to distract him but it had worked and may have just saved a few lives; she would have to thank him when she got the chance.

‘I think we should get in the Chapel,’ she said, as if Tom’s episode hadn’t been worth commenting on. ‘Oh, Graham, go back and tell Kai it’s safe to bring Peter round, will you,’ she continued, slipping a knife from the sheath on her calf as she walked over to Brother Christopher’s detached head.

Replacing the figurine back on the hall table, Graham nodded and disappeared back the way they had come.

‘Can it be fixed?’ Fran asked, noticing Brother Mark was collecting up the shattered pieces of porcelain.

‘Stupid really, I know,’ he replied, looking over at her just as she plunged her knife though Brother Christopher’s ear canal and into his brain, his words faltering slightly, ‘what with everything that’s going on but…’

‘But we’ve probably lost the know-how to ever make it again’ suggested Tom, bending down to pick up a piece that looked like it had been part of a shepherdess.

‘Yes,’ said Brother Mark, slowly taking the offered piece from Tom, ‘something like that.’

‘Tom,’ said Fran, simply speaking to fill the awkward silence, ‘try and get whoever’s in the Chapel to open up will you. And I’ll finish up here,’ she continued, stepping over Kevin’s body to grant his head the oblivion of true death.

‘Sure,’ Tom replied, leaving Brother Mark to sort through the bits of porcelain.

Tom had just started to bang on the heavy door, trying to assure them he wasn’t one of the Dead, when Fran heard Graham returning with Kai, Peter and Bella.

‘And he cut Kevin’s head off with one blow,’ he was saying to Kai, just as she was gingerly positioning it to look away from her.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, pushing down hard on the hilt of her blade, stilling the corpse’s head forever.

With a tug and a ‘crack’, Fran pulled free her blade and was about to turn to clean the gore from it on one of Brother Christopher’s nearby sleeves when something about Kevin’s head made her pause. Just what about it had piqued her curiosity she had no idea and even as she tilted his face to take a second look, nothing obvious came to her.

‘Fran,’ said Tom, breaking her thoughts as he nodding towards the Chapel door, ‘they’re opening up.’

Sure enough she could hear the sound of heavy furniture scraping across a stone floor while those inside removed their barricade and as she rose, her niggling concerns already forgotten, the door at last sprung open.

***

‘Two guesses,’ sneered Max, looking down at a pair of roaming eyes as he nudge Kasey’s severed head with his foot.

‘Show some respect,’ warned Fran, the anger flaring in the depths of her eyes causing Max to pause.

‘Just saying,’ he continued, holding his hands up defensively as he stepped away from the head, ‘it’s clear your mate was here sometime today… that’s all. Now, whether he remembers it or not, well…’

Allowing his statement to hang unanswered, Max was making a point and she knew it. Tom was an unknown, a dangerous variable that they could never be sure of and if Tom himself was unsure of his own actions that day, what was to say he hadn’t started all this after all.

‘It’s Kasey and poor Beth Keys… Scott’s going to be devastated,’ sighed Brother Sam, shaking his head as he stepped around the old woman’s body, crossing himself once he met the hungry glare from the old woman’s head.

‘Show the lost no pity or remorse,’ demanded Father Matthew, barely sparing the two corpses a second glance. ‘God has found them wanting, they have befallen the Corruption and are no longer worthy of our grief or concern.’

‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Fran, meeting the man’s cold stare as she stepped past him, determined to give the two woman the eternal rest they deserved. ‘What happened to a loving and forgiving God?’

‘The moment they succumbed to the Corruption they were beyond His grace, lost to Him for ever,’ he replied, so matter-of-factly that Fran knew better than to push her luck with more questions to his ideology. 

‘Someone’s locked this door,’ interrupted Brother John, looking back at Father Matthew. ‘Perhaps there’s someone inside?’

‘
Or something,
’ they all thought, though no one said it.

When they had finally got into the Chapel ten minutes earlier, Fran had been relieved to find the seven survivors awaiting them; although of course not nearly as relieved as Graham had been to find that his mother was among them. As they hurried in, closing the door behind them, it was clear a strange atmosphere of tension hovered within the small Chapel, almost as if Fran and the others had arrived right in the middle of an argument; certainly some of the looks that were being thrown about suggested this was the case. Emily glared tearfully at Ryanne, Ryanne scowled hatefully back and all while Father Matthew simply frowned, lost deep in his own thoughts.

It had quickly been decided that she, Tom, Father Matthew and Brother’s Sam and John would form a search party, leaving the others holed up in the chapel while they sought out more survivors. Kai had protested a little about Fran leaving him behind but she knew it came more from his concern for her safety than any wounded male pride, so after only a few words of reassurance, he had seen the sense of her reasoning and agreed to stay. With Brother Mark staying behind with Graham, Emily, Odelia and Ryanne, that just left them with Max to deal with. Simply to save on any arguments, Fran had hoped he would stay behind but for some reason, known only to him and quite out of character, he had insisted he came along.

So far their methodical room by room search hadn’t found anyone else within the castle, living or Dead; that was until they got to the locked library door with the decapitated bodies of Kasey and old Beth Keys lying in front of it.

‘Only one way to find out,’ suggested Tom, stepping past Brother John to knock three times with the handle of one of his sickles. ‘Hello, anyone home?’

‘Little pig, little pig, come let us in,’ mumbled Max sarcastically, standing with his arms folded at the back of the group, his chin resting nonchalantly on top of the crowbar he held.

‘Careful, you might just be looking down the snout of a wolf yourself, someday,’ said Fran, shooting Max a dirty look, hoping to shut him up.

Staring blankly back at her, Max, opened his mouth to say something but then, with a ‘click’, the door was unlocked and suddenly pulled open.

‘You!’ declared Brother Gregory, appearing in the open doorway, his face twisted with hate and rage as he pointed to Tom. ‘You did this to us! You’re tainted, tainted with darkness and sin… and it is you who have brought the Corruption of Man to this island. You!’

‘Brother Gregory, what do you…’ Father Matthew stared to say.

‘Their blood is on your hands!’ Brother Gregory continued, glaring at Tom as he stabbed a righteous finger towards the two headless corpses. ‘You did this! I should have known, I should have seen you would do this, I…’

‘Brother Gregory!’ Father Matthew shouted, his booming voice shocking his subordinate into silence. ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘explain yourself, what do you mean?’

‘He spoke of demons, Father,’ spat Brother Gregory, crossing himself. ‘I heard him… I heard him converse with them.’

‘Look, I…’ Tom started to say.

‘No, you’ve got it wrong, Tom he…’ Fran tried to interject, her words cut short as Father Matthew raised his hand, clearly signalling she should not speak.

‘They demanded death!’ Brother Gregory finally said, his words carrying the weight of a thousand gravestones.

‘I’ve heard him too,’ added Max, barely hiding his glee at this sudden turn of events. ‘Talking, having conversations with people, with things that weren’t there.’

‘Max, you bastard!’ growled Fran, the panic already building in her chest, fearful the way things were spiralling out of control. ‘Father Matthew, please, he…’

But Father Matthew would not listen to her pleas, he simply glared at Tom, his fists shaking as fought to control his anger. Even without Max’s confirmation, he had no reason to doubt Brother Gregory’s words; the man clearly had nothing to gain by blaming Tom for what had happened. For a moment no one spoke, and to Fran it felt like the eye of a nightmarish storm was passing over them; the inevitable and terrible maelstrom to come barely but a breath away. 

‘He cut down Beth as she pleaded for her life,’ said Brother Gregory, his cold words daring Tom to contradict him. ‘I saw him, Father. I saw him do it.’

‘Tom, say something!’ Fran cried, astounded he was just standing there, that he wasn’t even defending himself; horrific images of medieval witch burnings flashing fearfully through her mind. ‘Tell them this wasn’t you… for fuck’s sake, tell them, Tom. Tell them!’

‘Fran, I…’ Tom started to say and then a blinding light exploded behind his eyes.

Crumpling to his knees, the pain overwhelmed him, his vision swam and darkness quickly bloomed around him. He could hear raised voices, sensed people jostling about the small corridor and all the while Fran’s muffled yelling. She was shouting something, something he couldn’t quite understand. He tried to hold onto her voice, like she was a tether in a swimming and churning world but she slipped from his grasp, her voice drifting like smoke upon the wind; and then as the blackness finally claimed him, he fell forward.

‘You fucking bastards!’ Fran shouted, stepping over Max as she shoved her way past a stunned Brother Sam, desperate to get to Tom. ‘Get away from him! Get your fucking hands off him!’

Fran hadn’t seen the sharp nod from Father Matthew telling Brother John to act, so when the length of pipe came crashing down across the back of Tom’s head she had been caught totally by surprise. For a moment no one moved, all of them simply watching Tom swaying slightly on his feet and then as he fell to his knees the realisation of what was happening struck her. Darting forward she found herself suddenly being grabbed by Max, his large hands squeezing her upper arms with more than enough force to leave bruises.

‘
Bad move, arsehole!
’ she thought to herself, her martial arts training instantly flooding back to her.

Within seconds Max was on the floor in front of her, nursing a bloody nose. She shot him a look that warned him to stay down, whether he took her advice she didn’t care; she had restrained herself this time, he wouldn’t be getting off so lightly if he tried it again.

‘Tom! Tom, can you hear me!’ she said, pushing Brother John out of her way, to kneel beside him.

Her fingers gingerly touched the back of his head, the tips coming away wet with blood.

‘What the fuck have you done!’ she spat glaring up at Brother John.

‘He is a servant of the Corruption,’ said Father Matthew, his tall bulky frame suddenly looming over. ‘He has tainted us with his demon worship, he has brought death to our island and because of it many have fallen, never to feel God’s grace again… this cannot be tolerated.’

‘But you don’t know what happened,’ she begged, terrified of what was going to happen at the hands of this religious maniac. ‘You can’t know for sure… and you can’t just blame him because he’s an easy target, because he hears voices in his head!’

‘The decision has already been made,’ he replied, looking down at Fran before glancing across at Tom’s unconscious form. ‘It was made the moment you came to our door and sought refuge. As I said then, I say now, those unwelcome to remain may stay until the turning of the tide and with that tide you will leave us.’

Father Matthew paused briefly, his cold gaze drifting back to Fran.

‘Tom will be taken to Smugglers Cove and with the turning of the spring tide he will no longer be our problem,’ he continued, slowly crossing himself.

With a gnawing sensation in her gut, Fran knew this could not be as simple as Father Matthew was making out; there was more to what he said than she knew.

‘And then what?’ she prompted, fearful of what he may say next.

‘And then?’ he repeated, unsure of her question. ‘Why, then he will be dead, Fran.’