Star Drawn Saga (Book 1): Death Among The Dead: A Zombie Novel (40 page)

‘What!’ she gasped, shaking her head as the madness of the whole situation threatened to overwhelm her.

‘The cove will be four metres under seawater at the high tide,’ Father Matthew informed her, saying the words as if imparting simple tourist information. ‘A metal grate across the mouth of the cove prevents any of the Corrupt gaining access to the island, Tom will be padlocked to it and as the high tide fills the cavern God’s just vengeance will be reaped.’

‘No!’ gasped Fran, the image of Tom bound and drowning flashed in her mind. ‘You can’t… you just can’t, it’s not fair!’

‘Fair?’ said Father Matthew, somewhat bewildered by her choice of words. ‘Fair had nothing to do with it, Fran. This is God’s word, His Commandment. He has told us how to choose who can stay and how we are to live here… we must obey. I am but His servant doing His bidding.’

‘Take me!’ she suddenly blurted, seeing the smallest chink of hope for Tom and making a grab for it. ‘I’ll stay. You said before you hoped I’d stay. I’ll stay. You just have to give me a chance…’ she continued her words urgently running over each other as she saw the look of surprise on Father Matthew’s face, ‘a chance to prove Tom didn’t do this, to prove he’s not to blame for all this. Let me prove Tom’s innocence and I’ll stay.’

‘And if you cannot prove this?’ asked Father Matthew, toying with the crucifix about his neck, his eyes narrowing as he considered her offer.

‘I’ll stay anyway,’ she replied, thankful that Father Matthew was clearly taking her offer seriously. ‘It’s a win-win situation. He’s guilty, you get your vengeance and I stay. I prove he’s innocent, he goes free and I still stay. You want this place to survive,’ she continued, a flash of inspiration giving her just what she needed, ‘you’re going to need babies sooner or later…. how many of the woman here can still bear children?’

With that last teaser sweetening the pot, she saw in his eyes the decision was made; he knew a deal when he saw it, but he could not just come right out and say so, after all he needed to paint this with divine approval first.

‘Even amid the darkness He provides,’ boomed Father Matthew, his palms raised dramatically in thanks before looking back down at Fran. ‘You have your deal, Fran, though in reality it was never your deal to make. God brought you to us for a reason and perhaps this is it. You will have until the turning of the tide to prove the innocence of your friend but no matter what you find… you will stay.’

‘Yes,’ she replied, nodding. ‘I will stay. But nowhere and no one can be off limits,’ she continued, the phrase ‘
the devil is in the details’
suddenly popping into her mind. ‘Everyone must answer my questions… I must be given a fair chance.’

‘You will have your chance, Fran,’ he agreed, fixing her with his unwavering and slightly challenging stare, ‘the deal will be kept… I will make sure of it.’

‘
Crap
,’ she thought. ‘
Now
,
how in the hell am I going to get out of this?
’

***

Chapter 4: A tangled web.

Fran sat slumped against the wall, her knees drawn up and her head resting forlornly in her hands.

‘
Christ,
’ she thought, wearily tilting her head to look over her knees at the fourteen sheet-covered corpses, ‘
what a waste!
’

‘Fran?’ said Kai, his head suddenly appearing round the door of the quarantine room where they had decided to store the bodies.

‘Here,’ she sighed, already calmed by his presence.

Without moving from her spot, she reached out a hand to him, her fingers wiggling as if to entice him closer.

‘You okay?’ he asked, walking over to take her hand as he slid down the wall next to her.

‘Yeah…’ she started to say, a sad smile on her lips. ‘Wait, no, no I’m not. The shit’s hit the fan here and it seems I’m the only one looking to find out what happened, what really happened.’

‘Not th…the only one,’ Kai reminded her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

‘Sorry, you know what I mean,’ she replied, gently kissing the fingers now entwined in her own. ‘These people!’ she continued, her frustration suddenly erupting as she gestured to some point beyond the walls of the building. ‘What’s wrong with them? Why can’t they think for themselves? Why are they such sheep?’

‘Th…they’re scared, Fran,’ he offered, with a brief shrug of his broad shoulders, ‘and Father Matthew gives them something to hope for, to b…believe in.’

‘Hmm,’ she simply replied, turning her head so she could rest it against him. ‘I suppose so… and how’s Tom?’

‘Aw…wake and pissed off,’ he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. ‘Very pissed off… Oh and I t…told him about your d…deal.’

‘Oh yeah, and how did that go down?’ she asked, idly picking at something encrusted on her jeans.

‘You don’t w…want to know,’ he replied.

For a moment the pair simply sat in silence, taking comfort from each other until Kai spoke.

‘Are we r…really staying?’ he asked, his whispered words only just loud enough for her to hear.

‘What do you think?’ she said, raising an eyebrow, a mischievous smile twitching at her lips.

***

‘That leaves the cottages, gardens, woodland and the harbour,’ said Father Matthew finally pulling a heavy oak door closed behind him. ‘The cottages are closest and probably our best bet for finding survivors.’

‘Well, come on then,’ sighed Fran, stretching her neck to relieve some of the built up tension, ‘we might as well get on with it.’

After Fran and Father Matthew had struck their deal, Tom’s unconscious form had been restrained and left under Brother Gregory’s watchful eye while the rest of the group continued their quest. In the end it had taken them almost two painstaking and stressful hours to thoroughly search the castle, making their way from room to room, top to bottom, systematically checking each room for the survivors, the Dead or the dying; but despite the bloody tragedies that had already occurred within the castle that day, they thankfully found themselves being met with nothing more than one empty room after another.

‘Ladies first,’ said Max, sarcastically waving Fran forward, his swollen bloody nose distorting his words.

Fran started to open her mouth to speak, the fatigue and tension of the previous two hours having shortened her temper to little more than a frazzled stump but then she noticed the strange look Max was giving her. Behind his blood smeared face and bruised nose, he was strangely confrontational and almost smug like. It was if he knew something, something that would affect her; perhaps not immediately, but definitely at some point in the future and it made her uneasy.

‘How’s your nose?’ she simply asked, unwilling to let him know she was unnerved.

‘Fine,’ he replied, the faintest smile twitching at his lips promising cruel retribution.

‘Well perhaps you’ll think twice about putting your hands on me next time,’ she continued, striding away before she could hear his mumbled reply.

She would have to watch Max Harper, he had already helped drop Tom in a barrel load of trouble and given half the chance she knew he would be happy to see her follow; whatever was going on here, one thing was certain, she couldn’t count on him volunteering any help to clear Tom’s name. Far from it.

‘How many are we expecting to find,’ she whispered to Brother Sam, as they eventually edged round the corner of the first cottage.

‘Oh, erm… hopefully around twenty,’ he whispered in reply, mentally removing those he knew to be left in the castle from his calculation. ‘Oh, dear God!’ he suddenly gasped, crossing himself as he unexpectedly confronted with the bloody corpses of the Dead woman and young boy that Fran had dispatched earlier; a pair of seagulls happily gulping down gobbets of their flesh while another three circled above them about to come into land. ‘Looks like you’d better make that eighteen.’ He continued, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Sorry,’ said Fran, glancing over at Father Matthew as he looked a little more disapprovingly over at the two bodies; somewhere a dog was barking, ‘I forgot… I should have warned you, I…’

‘No matter,’ Father Matthew interrupted, barely giving the brutalised child at his feet a second glance, ‘it is the living we concern ourselves with.’

‘Hmm,’ she softly replied, her mind reluctant to marry the image of the cocky young child she had briefly met earlier that day with the blood splattered corpse she had consigned to the oblivion of true death, ‘yeah, I know, you said.’

If Father Matthew was aware of the disdain in her voice he gave no of show it and instead he moved to stand in middle of the cobbled lane, looking along the row of small cottages either side of him.

‘Hello!’ he shouted, his booming voice startling the gulls into screeching flight to join their equally put out friends.

‘Father Matthew!’ Fran hissed, noticing out the corner of her eye that even Max balked at the man’s recklessness; after all they still had at least eighteen people unaccounted for and that could mean a lot of hungry corpses about to come their way.

Waving away her concern, he called again.

‘In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, come out… come out and be saved!’ his bellowing almost drowning out the displeasure of the swooping gulls overhead.

No sooner had the words left his lips than the click of latches and bolts being drawn across could be heard. First one door was opened, and then another and another. Tentative at first, the frightened and hesitant occupants only risked the smallest of chinks in their defences. Uneasy and unwilling to be the first to venture forth they held back, peering out through the narrowest of cracks, too fearful of what lie beyond the safety of their homes to leave. But then a middle aged woman, scared and alone in one of the cottages furthest from the group, caught sight of Father Matthew and with his very presence giving her the courage she needed, she flung open her door and rushed out.

‘Father!’ she wailed, running towards the group, her face wet with frantic tears. ‘The Corrupt Father… I saw them… Dear God, Father, I saw them claim some of our own. How can this be?’ she continued, weeping as she clung onto his robe, almost collapsing under the weight of her own hysteria. ‘How… how have we failed Him?’

Like a dam breaking, the other survivors took strength from the woman’s courage and one by one the doors began to be pulled open, spilling forth the frightened occupants, eager to bathe in the glory of their messiah-like leader.

‘Catherine… Catherine,’ soothed Father Matthew, holding the woman up by her elbows, trying to calm her down. ‘We have not failed Him… You have not failed Him, you are still held within His heart.’

‘Truly?’ the woman begged, a shaking hand covering her mouth.

‘Truly,’ he confirmed, the strength of his conviction visibly calming her.

By now the other survivors had started to crowd around Father Matthew, jostling and pressing against each other, keen to get as close to the man as they could; each determined to have his gaze fall upon them to quell their fears.

‘
Jesus!
’ thought Fran, when she saw one of them actually fall to their knees and reverently kiss the hem of his robe. ‘
What’s wrong with them?
’ 

And with that she knew no matter what deal she had made, she could not stay here, not with these people.

‘Father Matthew!’ she prompted, having to raise her voice over the weeping and worried chatter of the crowd. ‘Father, we need to move on… we need to check the rest of the island.’

Glancing at her, Father Matthew nodded but then was almost immediately drawn back again by another of his community hoping to have a brief audience with their ‘rock star’ like saviour.

‘People, People!’ said Father Matthew, holding his arms open as he tried to hush the jostling crowd around him. ‘Please, the newest addition to our family is correct, there are still others to check on, others that may need our help…’ at this a few of the women and children cried out, begging him not to leave them but he continued. ‘Fear not, God’s grace is with you and let His love be as your shield against the damned. I assure you, once we are certain none of the Corrupt still walk upon our sacred isle, we shall gather and offer up our prayers to Him… but for now I ask you to return to your homes and wait for our word. So, please…’

With his hands he encouraged them to move and just like the dutiful acolytes they were, they did as requested; if a little reluctantly. Fran watched them slowly begin to depart and it occurred to her that even though they had sprung forth from their cottages in ones and twos, they now returned in larger groups; joining together only now when they were absolutely sure their friends and neighbours were free of the Corruption.

‘
So much for community spirit
,’ she thought watching the last of the crowd disappear behind a peeling front door.

‘Shall we?’ said Father Matthew, gesturing with his hand, offering her to lead them.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, giving him a wary sideways glance as she stepped past him, her crowbar resting against her shoulder.

Unlike her journey to the castle earlier, this time as they walked to the end of the cobbled lane she saw the wooden shutters had been flung open, revealing devotional faces squashing themselves up against the small panes of glass; each eager to catch one final glimpse of their spiritual leader as he passed by.

‘Father,’ said Brother Sam, an anxious look on his face as he abruptly paused by the door of the one of the cottages towards the end of the lane.

‘Brother?’ he replied, turning to the devout young man with dark brooding features.

It was only as he spoke that he noticed the sound of a dog barking coming from the other side of the closed door; the dog did not sound happy.

‘Ah,’ Father Matthew continued, glancing at Fran, ‘I think not everyone here has been left untouched by the passing of darkness.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Fran, stepping around Brother Sam to press her face against the small gap between the closed shutters, hoping to see something of the building’s shadowy interior.

‘Frank White,’ sighed Father Matthew, shaking his head like he was chastising a naughty child. ‘I prayed he would accept the Lord as his savour.’

‘
The Lord or you?
’ Fran instantly thought to herself but made sure she said nothing and kept her face neutral.

‘And now, from the sound old Jack is making,’ he continued, the fingertips of his hand resting gingerly on the peeling surface of the closed door, ‘I fear it is too late… he is lost to us and to God.’

‘He may have just fallen down,’ suggested Fran, remembering the friendly but somewhat frail looking old man and his dog from earlier in the day. ‘Perhaps he’s just hurt and the dog is raising the alarm?’

Although she hoped it to be the case, Fran knew she was clutching at straws and the look Father Matthew gave her told her as much. It was far more likely that the old man had been bitten, somehow escaped his attacker and then had managed to get back home, shutting himself inside.

‘Well, we need to check, either way,’ continued Fran, allowing her crowbar to slip from her shoulder as she studied the outside of the cottage for a way in.

‘Why can’t we just leave him in there?’ offered Max, with a shrug. ‘If he could’ve got out, he would’ve by now… I say we leave him. He’ll be too fresh right now, anyway, far too frisky… let him wind down a bit, wait until he becomes slower and we can deal with him then.’

‘And what if he does get free?’ said Fran. ‘What then? No I think we should deal with him now... it’s not right, anyway, we need to put the old man out of his misery.’

‘What an odd thing to say,’ mused Father Matthew, looking quizzically at Fran; clearly bemused by her sympathy for the Corrupt. ‘But I agree, this stain on St Michael’s Mount cannot be condoned to remain, not even for a few hours… we must deal with it now. Brother John, Brother Sam,’ he continued, drawing the two men over with a flick of his fingers, ‘charge the door… break it down.’

‘Yes, Father,’ the two men replied, although Brother John seem decidedly less keen to oblige than his fellow acolyte.

‘No, wait!’ said Max, grabbing hold of Brother John’s elbow to pull him back. ‘I’ll do it. I…,’ he continued, seemingly rushing to explain himself. ‘I’ve got more weight behind me than you… we don’t want to be here all day, now do we?’