Fear the Dead (Book 3) (17 page)

27

Why does
life always run in circles?
I thought as I paced the stony floor of the
pen. I kicked out and sent a scatter of stones rolling across the ground. Lou
and Alice sat next to each other on the other side of the enclosure. The
swelling of a purple bump marred Alice’s head. Lou’s face was untouched, but
her legs were covered in dirt from sitting on the floor.

I walked
across to them. We were back in the same pen Victoria had kept us in when we
had first arrived at Bleakholt. Back then Billy had led us in. I wondered what
had happened to Billy, what his part had been in all of this. Had he helped
Ewan? No, surely he would never do that.

“You think
the entire town was in on it?” said Lou. She looked up at me, her gaze hard
enough to smash through stone.

My leg
ached. I wanted to lower myself to the ground and take the weight off it, but
sitting down felt like giving up. We might have been locked in a pen that was
closed off by a chain-link fence, but I wasn’t staying here. We’d get out,
somehow.

“No,” I
said. “Not everyone. A lot of people loved Victoria.”

“Obviously
not enough,” said Alice.

She rubbed
the swelling on her head and winced when her fingers slid over the part that
was cut. Every so often she cast her glance back to Bleakholt School, where
right now Ben would be in classes. Did he have any idea what happened to his
mum? Could he see the fire through the classroom windows? Were all the school
kids watching the bonfire of bodies?

She
petulantly kicked out at the ground. “Then why didn’t anyone help her?”

“Ewan took
everyone by surprise. He did it in the middle of the night, when most people
would be in bed. And he got to Victoria first. He knew that if he stood up to
her in the daylight, with everyone around, then people would fight him. But if
he killed Victoria in the dead of night, there would be nobody there to stop
him.”

“Bastard,”
said Alice. She glanced over to the school, and she pressed her hand into the
ground as though she were transmitting all her anger into the stone floor.

My body had
been through so many emotions that I felt drained. My stomach was zapped with
shock when I realised what Ewan had done, and then anger flooded my body as the
need for revenge grew hot inside me. But now that was gone. I was empty, like a
dish cloth wrung of water.

I had
started to like Victoria, and she didn’t deserve this. Deep down she wanted the
best for everyone, and thinking of what Ewan had done made my blood heat up. I
couldn’t dwell on it. We needed to get out of here, and we weren’t going to do
that with hot heads. At times like this, practicality was always better than
emotion. 

“We need to
get out,” I said.

Lou rolled
her eyes. “Thanks, detective.”

Alice gave
her a sidelong look. “See your guilt didn’t last long, then.”

Lou glanced
down at the ground.

“We can’t
get out by force,” I said. “We need to think.”

I said the
words, but I didn’t have anything to back them up with. My head felt empty, a
barrel empty except for a millimetre of anger that sloshed at the bottom. I
looked at the chain fence that surrounded us. At twenty feet high, it was too
tall to climb over. Even if Lou or Alice could give me a boost, broken glass
was glued to the top of the fence, and I didn’t like the idea of slicing my
hand open. The chain link that meshed the fence together wasn’t thick, but we
still needed tools to get through it. Ewan hadn’t seen fit to provide us with
bolt cutters when he imprisoned us.

The metal of
the chain link rattled. I turned and saw the gate open. Ewan waddled through,
his heels scraping across the stones. He held the silver-tipped cane over the
shoulder of an expensive looking yellow suit. He looked like a Texan oil baron
inspecting his claim.

Lou got to
her feet. She held her hand out to Alice, who shook her head and struggled to
her feet on her own. Lou marched toward Ewan. Ewan held up a hand. Lou stopped.

“Hold your
horses little girl,” he said. “I’ve come to talk to the man of the house. Is
your daddy in?”

Lou’s face
flinched in anger. She was about to step forward when Ewan’s guards stepped
through the gate. The one on the left held his hunting knife at waist height,
his knuckles white with the force of his grip.

Alice put
her hand on Lou’s shoulder. “Just ignore it,” she said, in the same soothing
tone she used with Ben. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

I felt pin
pricks of heat on my shoulders and neck, and I found myself scanning the floor
for rocks big enough to do damage. Seeing Ewan brought up the same feelings I
had when I saw Moe. Pure, almost uncontrollable, anger.

Ewan pulled
his cane away from his shoulder and tapped the silver bear-head against his
palm.

“Hope you
understand why you’re here,” he said.

“Because
you’re a poisonous little fucker,” Lou spat.

A grin slid
on Ewan’s face. “I was hoping you’d have cooled off by now.”

“After what
you did, you’re lucky we didn’t kill you in the office,” I said.

“Oh really?
It seemed to me that you were actually the lucky ones.”

I shook my
head. “What the hell do you want?”

Ewan smiled.
It looked like he was trying for a comforting gesture rather than a mocking
one, but any expression of his managed to turn poisonous.

“Despite our
differences, I really don’t want to keep you in here. Did you know, Kyle, that
since Victoria came to Bleakholt, only eight people have ever gone more than
twenty miles away? What does that say to you?”

“That she
was careful.”

He tutted.
“No, no, no. She was soft. And she let everyone else get soft with her. But
you’re not like that, are you? How many years did you spend in the Wilds?”

“More than
you, I bet,” I said.

Ewan nodded.
“True. And that’s why I want us to work together.”

Alice shot
him a puzzled look. “And you think this is the way to do it? By killing
Victoria and throwing us in here?”

Ewan sighed
and ran his fingers through his hair, like a parent sick of repeating the same
conversation with their child.

“Can we move
past that? She’s gone, she’s not coming back, and we’ll all miss her terribly.
Blah blah blah. I’m here to offer you a way forward. Work with me. Give me your
survival experience. Use it to teach people how to live in the Wilds. Teach
them to be strong. Do that and I’ll let you stay in Bleakholt. You’ll eat like
a king and sleep in a feather bed.”

“Why do you
even want to stay?” said Lou. “Don’t you know there’s half a million infected
headed this way? Why not just pack up and leave?”

Ewan tapped
his cane into his hand. The silver of the bear head was scratched. “And go
where? Do you know anywhere as geographically sound? With a big fucking
mountain blocking anything from the south? Bleakholt is like a barmaid with
curvy hips and big tits. Physically blessed.”

“You’re
disgusting,” said Alice.

Lou flinched
at Ewan’s patronising words. “The wave will tear you apart. You’re not strong
enough to lead anyone.”

“Don’t
worry,” said Ewan. “If it comes to it, we have a fuelled-up double decker bus
that can carry eighty people. If things turn to shit and I want out, I’ll get
out. But I don’t give things up easily.”

He paced back
and forth on the stony floor like a university lecturer talking to a group of
freshmen.

“I used to
be married, you know. I say ‘used to be’, because she’s dead now, and there’s
no more final a divorce than that. But get this. While we were married, my wife
took a fancy to my friend. She and him carried on behind my back. They plotted
with each other. Thought about how they were going to run away and start a
happy life together. All they needed was me to sign the divorce papers. But
guess what?”

He looked at
us as if he expected one of us to answer. None of us did. Ewan carried on.

“I didn’t
give her the divorce. I stayed married to the bitch for fifteen years out of
spite. What does that tell you? That I’m a heartless bastard? Maybe. But I’m
also a stubborn one. I don’t give up what’s mine, and the infected are going to
have to tear the flesh from my bones before I let them take Bleakholt.”

Lou shook
her head wildly as if she had been asked to walk naked through a stalker nest.
Alice stood, arms folded, face deep in thought. I knew what I wanted to do. I
wanted to reach forward, grab Ewan’s cane and beat him until his skull cracked.

I took a
deep breath. I faced Lou, gave her a look that I hoped she understood as ‘trust
me.’

“Is this
what it has all been about?” I asked.

Ewan tilted
his head. “What?”

“You wanting
power. Scheming to take it from Victoria. Is it because you think you’re
stronger than her?”

Ewan closed
his eyes solemnly for a few seconds as if processing the question. “I just want
what’s best for Bleakholt.”

“You don’t
have a clue,” I said.

“Be that as
it may, you’ll have to get used to it. If you want your friends to stay here,
to stay safe, you’ll have to do what I say.”

I gritted my
teeth. “And that about the wave? What’s your plan? Because Bleakholt is only
safe as long as we can deal with them.”

Ewan flicked
his hand in the air. “Don’t worry about them.”

I looked at
Alice stood on weak legs, casting her eyes over to the school every few
minutes, unable to concentrate on anything but her son. The boy deserved a safe
place to grow up, and despite what was headed toward us, this was the safest
place around. Or it could be.  If we could only block the hills and divert the
wave, they’d move on.

I sighed.
“What is it exactly that you want?”

Ewan
adjusted the collar of his jacket like a business man preparing for a meeting.
“I want to banish the boy. And I don’t want you to fight me when I do it.”

Alice’s face
reddened. She looked nervously over at the school.  Ewan shook his head.

“Not him.
The teenager. The one with the red in his eyes.”

Lou stepped
forward, eyes wide, brow furrowed. “Justin!”

“That’s the
one.”

“But why?”
said Lou.

Ewan’s eyes
narrowed his eyes like a snake spotting a bird’s nest.

“Because the
boy’s infected. While he’s in Bleakholt, nobody is safe. So your choice is
simple. Stay and put your skills to use. Help me defend Bleakholt. Build a life
somewhere safe. Or leave with your friend and die in the Wilds.”

Behind him
dark clouds swallowed the sun and cast a grey tint on the rest of the sky. They
were bloated with rain, swollen enough to make everything seem a shade darker.
The cobblestones of Bleakholt and the stone buildings behind them looked greyer
than ever before.

28

By the time
Ewan let us out of the enclosure, word had already spread that Justin had to
leave. I wanted to go to him and explain that I was just appeasing Ewan, but
someone told him before I got there. Rather than stay and put up a fight,
Justin resigned himself to leaving. There was no resistance in him, as though
he was empty of energy.

 By the time
I got to him he had left the settlement and he was two miles across the plains.
I wanted to run after him, but Ewan stood at my side. I knew that I had to keep
up the act. I had to stay on Ewan’s good side until we could get rid of him.

It felt like
I’d let a part of myself walk with Justin. I thought back to the day - god over
a year ago now - that he’d first joined me. He was naïve kid eager to see the
world, but he’d never been closer than twenty feet away from an infected let
alone killed one himself. Back then he was a pain in the arse, a burden I
wanted to drop the first chance I’d got.

Since then
he’d grown. He toughened himself up and killed his share of infected. We’d been
through a lot of shit together, certainly more than anyone else in Bleakholt.
He’d become more distant since we’d saved him from Whitaker’s lab, but that
wasn’t all his fault. He’d pushed us away, and maybe that was down to him. But
however much blame he deserved, I was owed a thousand times more. I’d allowed
Ewan to send Justin walking into the Wilds.

What the
hell was I doing? Was staying in this place so important that I’d let Justin
walk into the wilderness alone? Was the security of the fences that important?

Not to me.
But it was to Alice and Ben. Melissa and Lou. Everyone who I was trying to
protect.

I walked to
the old bank and leant against the scaffolding. The rusty bars felt light, as
though a shift in wind could collapse them like a Jenga tower. I wrapped my
hand around one of the bars and felt the cold metal sting my skin. When I was
little I used to open the freezer compartment below the fridge and press my
hand against the icy sides. I’d hold it there and see how long I could last
before it felt like my hand was a block of stinging ice. I wondered if one day
I could hold it there until I was welded to the freezer and maybe my mum would
have to call the fire brigade. Part of me wanted to try it just to get some
attention. Maybe that’s all everyone wanted, really; another human being to
notice them.

“Kyle,”
someone shouted behind me.

I didn’t
turn. I shook off the voice like it was an unwanted coat draped over my back. I
unzipped my coat and let it drop to the floor. Cold fingers tugged at my shirt
buttons, snuck in through every gap and ran their icy touch up and down my
skin. My breath left my mouth as cold smoke, evaporating a second later.

When the cold
felt like pin pricks testing my skin for weaknesses, I knew it wasn’t enough.
It didn’t pierce the layer of guilt that had grown around me like a shell, but
it was enough for me to feel something.

I lifted my
leg and propped my foot on the scaffolding. Bar by bar I pulled myself up, and
the further I went the more the cold wore down my senses like sandpaper. I
wanted my nerves to fray away into nothing, leave me an unfeeling bundle of
bones.

I got to the
top of the scaffolding. There was a gap of two feet between it and the roof. I
took a deep breath. I embraced my  mild fear of heights and used it as fuel.
Then I leapt. I landed on the roof with a thud and felt a jolt in my ankle.
Great. A busted to ankle to go with a busted leg, to go with a worn down body.

I sat on the
roof and watched Bleakholt. The streets seemed empty at first, endless lanes of
grey cobblestone. The more I looked, the more people I spotted. It was like
watching a mound of mud and seeing nothing at first, but you stare some more and
start to see the ants crawling from tiny holes. Worker ants trek up and down
the dirt, their life an endless stretch of back-breaking labour and then death.
The endless nothing, the black that marks the end of existence.

“What’s the
point?” I said to no one, expecting no response.

Something
thudded behind me. It sounded near yet far away, like a fist pounding on a
double-glazed window. I thought about turning round, but my body felt as rusty
as the scaffolding. We weren’t so different. Both the scaffolding and I had
been around since before the outbreak. We’d both been intended for one purpose
back then, and that purpose had long since left us now. We’d weathered what the
world had thrown at us and come out a little weaker. Flecks of rust covered the
surface as the elements rotted us away. Neither of us would ever change.

Footsteps
walked behind me, and then beside me. This time I turned my head. It was Alice.
Talk about change, she was the embodiment of it. She was a true leader, someone
who had already made a difference to the people of Bleakholt and would carry on
doing so long after I’d gone. Alice was everything a leader should be.

“Quite a
view up here,” she said, her tone enough to melt the ice.

She lowered
herself to the ground, struggling a little with her weight, until she sat next
to me. I could feel her body heat.

“How did you
get up here?” I said, wondering how she’d navigated the scaffolds.

She gave me
a look, like I’d said something ridiculous. “I used the stairs…and the door.”

I smirked,
but felt the smile drop straight away.

“You must be
bloody freezing,” said Alice.

A shudder
ran through me but the feeling of it was blunted. It was as though my nerves
had taken all the cold they could handle and had decided not to bother reporting
any more of it. My teeth shook and my hairs stood on end.

“I like
it,”  I said.

She gave a
laugh. “Don’t act like Mr. Mysterious with me, Kyle. You’re not some anti-hero
in a book. I know you, and I know that you are fucking freezing.”

I looked
into her eyes and saw a heat in them. Most people thought that smile was just
moving your lips into the familiar shape, but that wasn’t enough. A smile like
that could be faked by the cruellest of people. Alice smiled with her eyes.

“Okay,” I
agreed. “You got me. I’m freezing my bollocks off.”

Alice
laughed, then leant across and draped a big arm across my shoulder.

“I’m sorry
about Justin,” she said.

The name
stabbed me in the gut, made me want to shake her arm off my shoulders. It
reminded me of why I’d climbed up here in the first place.

“Just wanted
to get one last look at the place,” I said.

The smile
dropped from her face. “I don’t like the way you’re talking, Kyle.”

Alice looked
below us, down at the ground.  It took me a minute to realise what she thought
I was going to do. I shook my head.

 “Jesus, no.
I didn’t mean that,” I said.

“Then what?”

“I’m leaving
Bleakholt,” I said.

Alice sighed
like a only a mother can. I half expected her to say something like ‘I’ve told
you until I’m blue in the face, Kyle.’

“Where are
you going to go?”

“I don’t
know. I’ll catch up to Justin and then just keep moving, I guess.”

Alice let
out a long stream of hot breath, as though she were exhaling all her annoyance.

“I’ve told
you until I’m blue in the face Kyle,” she said. “There’s nothing out there that
you can’t find in Bleakholt. You can’t keep running.”

“Doesn’t
seem like me staying will do much good, either..”

Her arm fell
across my shoulders again. I’d never admit it to anyone, but I enjoyed the
comfort of it.

“What
happened to Justin wasn’t your fault,” she said, her tone soft. “Ewan’s got too
many people. You couldn’t have stopped him.”

I nodded.
“See what I mean? Pointless staying here.”

“It is with
that baby attitude. Answer me this. Do you really think there’s anything out
there that’s better than Bleakholt? That there’s a place waiting somewhere
that’s doing what Bleakholt does, and doing it better?”

I thought
about it. I’d travelled a lot in the North of England, and I’d seen a bit of
Scotland now, too. And in sixteen years, I’d never seen a survivor settlement
like this one. Deep down, tucked under the shadows of my pessimism, I knew that
this was the only place left. It was the only place worth fighting for.

“It doesn’t
matter,” I said. “We’re fucked. Ewan’s going to screw the whole thing up, and
we’ve got the wave coming any day now.”

“This place
could be something special, with the right leader,” said Alice.

Flashes of
Victoria flitted through my mind. Sat behind her desk, a cigarette burning in
her hand and staining her fingers with tar. Her fingernails knobbly and bitten
down to the skin. Her painting of Bleakholt resting against the easel. It made
me realise how much I’d respected the women and how close I had been to buying
into her dream.

And then
Ewan came. He smashed that dream to pieces. I pictured his knife as he stuck it
through Victoria's flesh and twisted until she couldn’t scream anymore. I
imagined her eyes dimming like the sun in a thunderstorm.

I couldn’t
let Ewan win. I couldn’t let the infected wipe us out. Maybe we could do this.
Hell, we had to try. I owed it to Alice, Lou, Ben, Justin. I owed it to
Victoria.

A rush of
adrenaline blew away the cold in my veins like a leaf blower shooting through a
cobweb. I backed off the ledge of the roof and got to my feet. A pain thudded
through my ankle and then my leg, but I was glad of it. I looked at Alice.

“If we’re
going to do this,” I said, “If we’re going to get rid of Ewan, then this place
needs a leader.”

Alice nodded.
She put her hand on the floor and pushed herself to her feet. “Yeah, it does.
You.”

“I’m no
leader, Alice. Bleakholt needs a true leader, someone born to do it. And that’s
you.”

I looked
down on the view of Bleakholt. This time it seemed calm. The cobblestones grew
lighter, the glass of the shop windows reflected the yellow glow of the sun.
People milled the streets, chatted with each other, walked to their homes or
their jobs. The town buzzed.

“We’ll
stay,” I said, “And we’ll fight. We’ll get rid of Ewan, and then we’ll smash
the shit of this wave.”

Alice got to
her feet and smiled. It felt like the kind of moment where we should high-five
or something, but instead I looked beyond Bleakholt. I stared beyond it, all
the way to the hillside pathway where soon, half a million infected would pour
through.