Six Days With the Dead (16 page)

‘
Hmm, but only when it’s the Dead doing the killing perhaps, and this definitely wasn’t down to the Dead this time,’ Liz said, shaking her head with a sigh.

‘
No, not this time,’ Helen replied ‘Now, where are my manners. Let me get you some nettle tea. Imran would you like some too?’

‘
Thanks. Oh that reminds me, we brought some of jars of preserved fruit for you from the Penhaligans, I’ll go get them.’

‘
No, you’ve already got one soaking tonight and I hear there were some of the Dead to deal with at the gate too… No, you stay here. I’ll send Gabe,’ she said.

With a flick of her hand towards the door a teenage boy jumped up
. ‘And don’t touch anything else or I’ll feed you to the Dead myself,’ she called after him, as Gabe disappeared through the door.

‘
He’s new,’ she said to Imran, ‘We found him in one of our fields trying to eat raw potatoes out of the dirt a few months ago. He’s an ok kid. Just looking for a home like the rest of us I suppose.’

As Liz took the cup of warm nettle tea from Helen
, she noticed a few other new faces in the room that hadn’t been here the last time she had come to the Substation, but more importantly, some faces were missing. But that was the nature of the world they all now lived in. People could so easily die, not just at the hands of the Dead but of simple things too. With so few with any medical knowledge left in their world, a scratch could easily become infected and lead to fatal blood poisoning.

‘
We’re meant to be collecting Emma O’Brien, do you know her? Anyway, Emma’s about due to have her baby, so we’re taking back to the Convent so Nadine can help with the birth,’ Liz said

‘
Yes, we’ve met the O’Briens. Nice couple,’ Helen replied ‘They live by the coast don’t they’

‘
Yes that’s them, in an old police station,’ Imran said, as he sipped his nettle tea, pulling a face at the strong brew.

Nettle tea was an acquired taste but it was very rich in vitamin C and other nutrients so he drank it anyway
.

‘
Will you be coming to the Convent when you time is due too?’ he continued.

‘
No, a couple of the women here have had children and assisted with births since all this happened, so I thought I’ll stay here,’ Helen said, subconsciously rubbing her belly again.

‘
Sounds like we’d be better bringing Emma here,’ Liz said, smiling, ‘Well if you change your mind, you’re more than welcome to come for a visit.’

With a bang, the door blew open
, letting a gust of wind and a spray of cold rain into the room. Gabe, backing into the room, had the four jars of preserved fruits in his arms. Kicking the door closed behind him, he carried the jars to the small table in the room, amid excited murmurs from the other members of the community.

‘
Well there’s a hell of a lot more where that came from,’ Charlie said. ‘The Penhaligan place had a lot of fruit trees and apparently Mrs Penhaligan had a talent for preserving.’

‘
You’ve certainly proved yourselves more than welcome visitors,’ Helen said, gesturing towards the jars ‘Sad that it was at the Penhaligan family expense… but we’ll put their supplies to good use here’

‘
Yes, and if there’s anything you’d like in return, seems only fair,’ Patrick said, as he picked up one of the jars full of golden peaches.

‘
No, it’s fine,’ Charlie began to say.

‘
Yes, there is actually,’ Imran said, quickly butting in to Charlie’s polite refusal. With a questioning look from Charlie, Imran continued, ‘you could always let us have a breeding pair of your piglets.’

‘
You’ve got pigs?’ Charlie asked, surprised but thankful that Imran would think of asking for  piglets for the Convent, even if his religion considered them forbidden food. ‘Where on earth did you get them?’

‘
You wouldn’t believe it. We found them just walking in the woods, bold as brass. A boar and two sows,’ Patrick said ‘Took us a while to catch them, mind.’

‘
And as both sows have had litters, we can give you one from each, so you don’t have full blood siblings,’ Helen said.

Even though the S
ubstation community was just a group of collected individuals, it was clear Patrick and Helen were in charge. Just as Charlie had taken control of the general running of the Lanherne, each community needed a leader. When life was so precarious you couldn’t have people pulling in different directions for their own personal gains. When you joined a community you just had to hope that the best person for the job was in control rather than just the strongest. They had seen many communities simply fall apart because a bully or small gang had forced their control on people.

‘
Thanks, and next time we come this way we’ll bring Samson to service your mares, he’s a strong stallion, so you should get some good colts out of him,’ Charlie said, knowing the Substation were at a disadvantage having only female horses.

‘
Sounds like a plan,’ Patrick replied.

Outs
ide the storm had almost run its course. The thunder and lightning had moved on leaving only a light drizzle.

‘
Looks like the worst of the storm’s passed. We should be OK to go back up on the platforms. Now, let’s find you three somewhere to sleep.’ Patrick continued, as he looked out of the small window.

With a flurry of activity the community began to file through the door and make their way back to the pylon they called home. Smilin
g at the faces she recognised and nodding hello to those who were new to her, Liz followed Helen up the metal ramp.

‘
Don’t you get fed up with all this?’ Liz asked, as she pulled her jacket closer to her body while the wind buffeted around them.

‘
You get used to it I suppose,’ Helen replied, ‘and anyway, this is the first place I’ve felt safe in years. Before I came here my life was fucking crappy believe me. If Patrick hadn’t turned up at the last place I lived, I would still be being forced to whore myself to that bastard Adams, just to survive.’

Liz knew Helen
’s unpleasant story and didn’t judge her at all for what she had been forced to do. Helen had found herself in one of the rougher communities. Her natural good looks had singled her out and she was soon commandeered as the girlfriend to an ex-prisoner, Adams. Once he had broken her spirit with a series of beatings, she realised there would be no escape from him, so tried to make the best of her lot. It wasn’t until Patrick had intervened during a particularly pointless and harsh beating, that she was finally free of him. Patrick had killed Adams, protecting a woman he barely knew and had received the deep cut that had caused his scar in the process. With the top dog slot now open, many had assumed Patrick would want to take over. But he knew these people were tainted by the way they had chosen to live and would never be able to create here the home he wanted. So, leaving with Helen, and a half a dozen other like-minded people, they had left the barbaric community to their own devices, never looking back.

‘
This should be OK for you and Imran. Charlie said he was going to sleep in your cart. Doesn’t he ever relax?’ Helen said, as she stopped by a small wooden cabin on the first level, some fifteen meters above the ground. ‘There’s a central fire going over there, so if you want some warmth in here, take a torch, and light the wood above the grate in the corner of the cabin.’

Li
z looked in through the small door at the single room within. It was obviously a guest room as all that was inside was a double mattress on the floor. As Helen had said, in the corner was a metal box which could house a small fire for warmth. At the bottom of the box was a grill through which ash would fall to the ground below.

‘
Will you be going straight to the O’Brien’s tomorrow?’ Helen asked Imran, as Liz went off to get a torch of fire.

‘
No, we’ve got one more Outposter settlement to warn first. The odd little group that live on the small island in the middle of a lake, the Donaldson clan. Do you know them?’ Imran replied.

‘
Yes, we know them and try not to have anything to do with them,’ Helen said, with a sneer.

Imran knew what she was referring to. Mr
Donaldson and his two brothers were a little too fond of each other’s wives and children. He knew that more than one of their daughters had given birth to a child. So they must have been impregnated by either their own father or uncle. The place was a mess. The clan had descended into incest and who knew what else, but as Charlie had pointed out, the children were blameless, and for some of them, it was all they had ever known.

‘
Well, we’ll give it a go anyway, not that they’ll let us on the island.’ Imran said.

The Donaldson clan didn
’t like people sticking their nose into things that didn’t concern them, so were not the most friendly of neighbours to have.

‘
I don’t envy you having to deal with them at all,’ Helen said, as Liz returned with a small flaming torch ‘Anyway, I’ll bid you goodnight and see you two in the morning before you set off.’

With a wave Helen began climbing a ladder to the next level, where she shared a cabin with Patrick. As Liz began to put kindling and twigs in the metal
box to start their fire, Imran watched from the doorway as the same warm orange glow appeared at small windows  in other cabins on their level. With a loud clicking noise two men began to winch the walkway up from the ground, cutting off those on the Pylon from any attack that may come below.

‘
Close the door Imran,’ Liz said. ‘You’re letting in a draught.’

Doing as he was told, Imran closed the doo
r and came to sit next to Liz by the small fire that blazed in the metal box. Taking off some of their clothes and hanging them on hooks situated on the walls, Liz and Imran hoped to dry out some of the rain water before morning. With the small fire warming the cabin and curled up in each other’s arms, Liz and Imran drifted off into uneasy sleep. The images of things they had seen that day playing across their minds as sleep claimed them.

DAY 3

At some point while they slept, their small fire had dwindled and finally gone out, leaving the small cabin cold and smoky. Liz awoke with Imran
’s arms tightly wrapped around her from behind. As she opened her eyes to the gloomy darkness, she could feel his slow steady breathing on the back of her neck. If it wasn’t for the pressure from her bladder demanding relief and the need to wash out the ashy taste in her mouth, she would happily have laid within this comforting embrace until Charlie called for them. But her bladder would not be ignored, so reluctantly she gently untangled herself from the arms about her and retrieved her only slightly damp clothes from by the fire. Once dressed she decided it was time she went in search of a toilet. As she opened the cabin’s door a gust of wind managed to force its way through. With bleary eyes Imran lifted his head from the mattress.

‘
It’s not morning already is it?’ he asked, clearly wanting to go back to sleep, ‘I’ve had a terrible night’s sleep. No matter where I put myself on this bloody mattress, I seemed to be in a draft.’

Imran slowly sat up moving his head from side to side as he rubbed his neck. Liz c
ould not help but watch the way his smooth muscular body moved, his nipples becoming erect in the cold breeze. Fighting the urge to go back to bed and be with him, Liz glanced out through the door at the other small cabins on their level. From a few of them, smoke was already rising from the small fires within. Some of the Substation community were obviously up and starting to go about the business of a new day.

‘
Yep, looks like it’s rise and shine time, sleeping beauty,’ Liz said, as she stifled a yawn herself. ‘You can have a few minutes more while I go pee and then we better start getting ready for the off.’ 

With a long stretch to force the last remnants of sleep from her limbs
, Liz walked off along the platform while Imran’s grumbling faded behind her. She stopped at a small cabin similar to the one in which she and Imran had spent the night, in contrast this was brightly painted, and not only had a small window with a window box, but also a small hodgepodge looking greenhouse attached to one side. Outside of the front door sat a large man in his forties washing some rags in a bowl, which Liz could see on closer inspection may once have been white underwear.

‘
Hi, sorry to bother you but where’s the toilet?’ she asked.

‘
Round there on the right,’ he replied, wringing out the particularly sorry looking pants. ‘If it’s just a piss you want, do it down the pipe. Anything else, in one of the plastic buckets and take it down with you to the pit, OK.’