Six Days With the Dead (9 page)

‘
Do you want something, Adrian?’ Imran asked abruptly, irritated by this small, weasely man.

‘
No, nothing,.. sorry.’ Adrian replied, nervously licking his lips.

Flustered that he had been caught staring at Liz, Adrian grabbed
the last bowl on the table and scurried after Bryon. As Imran returned his attention to Liz, he failed to see the look of pure hatred that Adrian gave him as he left the room. As dusk began to fall on their dead world, the inhabitants of Lanherne Convent began to wind down their day. Like in a time of preindustrial revolution, their day was dictated by the rising and setting of the sun. People drifted off to their cells, glad to have survived another day. As Liz stood outside her door Imran held her hand, not wanting to let her go even for the few hours she slept.

‘
Sleep well my beautiful woman.’ Imran said, as he lent forward to give her a gentle kiss.

As always the horrors of their world were gone, if only for the moment as they lost themselves in their
embrace. A cough brought them back to the now, as Charlie made his presence known.

‘
Sorry Liz, just wanted to remind you to double check Anne’s emergency kit before we left tomorrow,’ he said, looking slightly embarrassed to have ruined their moment, ‘I’ll have a word with Alice so she’s prepared too, just in case.’

‘
Sure, was just about to,’ she replied, as she reluctantly moved out of Imran’s embrace.

‘
Don’t worry I’ll have a word with Mohammad, ask him to keep an eye on the pair of them too.’ Imran said, ‘It’s only for a few days, nothing should go wrong.’

‘
Well, let’s hope not.’ Charlie said, remembering other communities that had been overrun by the Dead in less time. Nodding ‘goodnight’ Charlie walked off down the hall to the cell Alice slept in.

‘
Well, good night then.’ said Imran.

Brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, he left to talk to his brother. As Liz watched him leave she could see Charlie and Alice talking down the hallway at her door. Charlie, leaning up against the door
frame, in a somewhat forced nonchalant manner, while Alice did her best to flirt. Liz smiled to herself and closing her door, left them to it. From the patch of sky she could see through the cell’s small high window, Liz could see the first of the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky.  Anne was reading a children’s book by the flickering light of a candle she had placed on the chest that sat in the corner. Liz glanced at the book’s cover. It was something by Enid Blyton. The cover showed three happy children playing with a dog on a beach. Just another reminder of a world lost to them for ever.

‘
Right, I’m one of the Dead and you can hear me coming down the hall, what do you do?’ Liz asked out of the blue, sitting down on the bed.

Without even looki
ng up from her book Anne replied ‘Bolt the door, push the chest against it and don’t make any noise that will draw attention to myself.’

‘
And what if you hear screaming down the hall?’

‘
Stay where I am, don’t open the door and wait for you or Charlie,’ Anne said, as she glanced over the top of the book, ‘I’m not stupid you know, you go over all this every time you go outside the walls. I can remember what you said last time.’

‘
Hey, no harm in checking.’ Liz said as she knelt down.  Moving the candle and the washing jug and basin to the floor, she opened the chest. She pulled out a large plastic bottle filled with water. ‘When was the last time this was changed?’ she asked gesturing with the bottle.

‘
Erm?’ Anne said, trying to remember.

‘
Never mind, run down to the kitchen and do it now. Make sure you fill it from the already boiled drum, you don’t want to get sick.’ said Liz.

Anne closed her book and snatched the bottle from her s
ister

‘
I’m not an idiot.’ she snapped, storming out of the door. 

To kill off
as much of the bacteria as possible, all water pumped from the stream was double boiled, as a matter of course. You didn’t want to drink it straight from the stream, if you could help it. Who knew what or who may be decaying in it up river.

Liz continued
rummaging through the chest, checking the other provisions that made up the emergency kit for Anne. Checking the small store of food, some dried fruit with hard biscuits and a large hunting knife were still there. When Anne returned with the refilled bottle, Liz placed it with the other emergency supplies, hoping she would never have need of them. She knew she could trust Mohammad and Alice to look after Anne while she was gone but there was something about this trip that made her hands itch. Raiders were trouble. They tended to travel in small groups, taking anything they wanted and getting away with it just because they were stronger. More often than not they didn’t care who died in the process. If they ever found the Convent, Liz feared there would certainly be bloodshed. The fact that they had left William’s horse and seemingly killed his brother just for the sake of it, was very worrying. These were unpredictable men and that made them even more dangerous. Looking over at Anne as she returned to the happy world that existed now only between the pages of her book, Liz wondered if things would, or even could return to the way they once were. She wondered if simple things like white sugar, soft toilet paper or chewing gum were now just things of Mans past. Their manufacture and meaning would become as unknown to them as the Pyramids. They would be words without meaning in a world of the Dead. 

As Anne snuggled down under the blanket
, Liz brushed aside one of her curls. Pushing it behind her sisters ear, Liz knew she wanted a better life for Anne. She wanted to wipe this stain of the Dead from their world and Lanherne had proven a perfect starting point. From here they had reached out to other small communities and had even started bartering goods between each other. Where one may have extra produce, another may have medical supplies and another again may have livestock for breeding. Man would endure, of that she was certain but she knew just enduring wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for her and didn’t want it to be enough for Anne either. She was always like this whenever she went on a trip into the Dead lands. It was if she needed to convince herself that there was something worth fighting for, something bigger than herself and the life she had built here. She was but a small cog in the machine to help Man back from the brink of savagery and with each cog doing its bit, she knew they would get there in the end.

Lying on her back with her hands behind her head, Liz let her mind wander to
things that could be. Possibilities of a future life she could share with Imran. With Idyllic scenarios of fat faced babies with warm olive skin held aloft by a proud father, as she looked on content with her lot. At some point she must have fallen asleep because she was woken with a start by the too human screeching of a fox somewhere off in the wood. Anne had pulled the blanket up over Liz before falling asleep herself and now she lay breathing softly, her fingers twitching slightly filling some dream activity of their own. As Liz watched her in the soft moonlight that filled their cell, Anne mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over. Liz lay back down and drifted back off to sleep, hoping she would return to the pleasant dreams of life with Imran but she was once again in her parents living room with her father coming through the door wild and bloody.

DAY 2

As Liz
’s eyes opened the scenes from her childhood were gone in an instant, leaving only her heart pounding and an ache in her chest. She hoped that one day she would build up enough good memories to blot out those first few moments when the world changed.

Outside
, the rising sun was just bringing the soft grey light of dawn. A swathe of warming colour bleeding into the pale smoky blue sky. The birds, bidding farewell to the night stars and welcoming a new day, began their chorus. Liz listened, as first one bird let forth its song, only for another to join its praise for the forthcoming day, until she could no longer distinguish one song from another. A cacophony of nature’s melodies, rising and falling in waves, as the stars were bleached away by a clean blue sky. Down in the courtyard, the Convents cockerel added its own harsh crow to the morning herald. Liz knew that in the small cells around the convent, other eyes would be opening, their own dreams becoming forgotten memories. Details dancing just out of grasp. No matter how desperately they were reached for, they would evaporate for another day, only to come again when night fell.

Sitting up
, she stretched, feeling her muscles tighten and then relax, as her blood washed the slumber from her body. With a yawn she gently rocked Anne’s shoulder to bring her up slowly from the depths of her sleep. A groan of recognition from Anne and Liz got out of bed.

‘
Morning sleepy head,’ Liz said, as she reached for the rough towel hanging on the back of the door. She wouldn’t get a chance for a good wash for the next few days and intended to make use of the warm water while she could, ‘I’m off to the kitchen Anne, lock the door behind me.’

As Liz opened the door Anne got out of bed. With her curls flattened on one side
and her face still covered in crease marks, she moved to the door. Trying to hold onto the last remnants of sleep, Anne fumbled for the bolt without opening her eyes.

‘
You’ve got half an hour,’ Liz said, as she left the cell, hearing Anne slide the bolt across behind her.

As always the warming sun hadn
’t penetrated the corridor yet, and despite her thick socks, Liz could still feel the cold seeping out from the worn stone floor beneath. As quickly as she could, she made her way down to the kitchen, where she knew one of the Sisters would already have at least one of the water pans warming. Sure enough when she came through the kitchen door, Sister Margaret was there with two large pans of water already warming on the range.

‘
Well, good morning Liz, how are you today?’ Sister Margaret asked, putting another piece of wood in the flames. ‘Here, you take your water and I’ll get some porridge ready for when you’re done.’

Sister Margaret handed Liz a large washing up bowl full of the warm water. Carefully takin
g the bowl and thanking the Sister, Liz slowly made her way to the bathroom that had been put aside for the women.

Bumping the door open with her hip, she backed into the room. Sitting the bowl in the bottom of the bath, she stripped off her wrinkled slep
t-in clothes. Once again, Duncan had worked a small miracle in the bathrooms for them all. Attached to the wall above the bath he had bolted a large open topped container from which a tap would let water run through a shower head. All you had to do was stand on a box in the bath so you could fill the tank with your warm water and then, when you were ready, just turn the tap for your shower. Admittedly it only lasted a few minutes but the shower was a luxury she never thought possible a year ago. As she rubbed the rough washcloth over her body the last remnants of sleep disappeared, leaving her skin tingling and fresh. Thoughts of her love making with Imran last night flooded her mind and she smiled to herself. As her tank of warm water ran out, she stood there letting the water run down her body. She looked across at herself in the mirror that somebody, probably Sally, had placed over the now dried up sink. She looked at her taut muscular frame, with her small high breasts and boyish hips and tried to remember what sort of body her mother had had. If alive, would her mother even recognise the wild battle ready young woman looking back at Liz? Broken from her thoughts by a knock at the door, Liz reached for her towel.

‘
Come in,’ she said, as she began to dry her short hair.

Alice and Sally both came in bottom first, each carrying their own bowl of water. Just as the door closed behind Sally, Liz caught a glimpse of Adrian as he walked past, their eyes catching each other just for a split second. Before she even
thought to cover herself, the door had closed, breaking their contact. But in that instant she saw a brief flash of something cross his face. From that look, she instantly knew how he saw her, his hunger unmasked and plain to see. This was a look, not of love or even lustful passion but a pure desire to simply use. She had seen that look before when they had passed through some of the rougher settlements but hadn’t expected to see it here. In other places, unwanted hands had grabbed at her thinking they could simply take liberties with her. Her abrupt refusal had brought forth foul language and threats in most cases but her swiftness with fist and blade had kept them at bay. She hoped Adrian wasn’t going to be a problem. If he made trouble for her or any of the other women, those staying at the Convent would have to vote on whether he would be allowed to stay.