Star Drawn Saga (Book 2): Lost Among The Dead (22 page)

‘
Just
two more,
’ she promised herself, once more breaking into a run; the edge of the caravan racing toward her. ‘Oh, Shit!’ she found herself gasping just as she launched herself from the roof, noticing only at the very last moment that the gap between this roof and the next was considerably wider than the others.

Instinctively Fran found her legs pumping and arms flailing, as if these frantic movements would force her through the air just that bit further. But even as her foot left the lip of the roof behind her she had known it was pointless. The edge, even though so tantalisingly close, was just too far to jump and she knew it. So, as she watched the top of the next caravan rise past her shins, knees and then her thighs, she did the only thing she could think of; she threw out her arms hopeful she could stop herself from falling. But it was to no avail, for as her chest slammed against the edge of roof, painfully knocking the air from her lungs, her arms failed her and with sickening dread she found herself falling backwards away from the roof and toward the unknown below her.

It was strange but the brief fall to the ground seemed to appear to Fran as a series of frozen snapshot details. The ‘v’ shaped flight pattern of a flock of unknown birds in the sky high above her, the strange pineapple shaped air freshener with the words ‘Tutti-fruiti’ printed across it that was hanging just inside the widow of the caravan and the small ‘my little pony’ sticker that some presumably long deceased child had placed just under the peeling windowsill. All these details cried out to her for instant recognition, demanding she notice them as she passed by; and then the ground hit her.

Suddenly there was an explosion of pain across Fran’s back and instantly a terrifying image of her lying paralysed in the long grass as the Dead closed in on her flashed through her mind.

‘No! Fuck!’ she coughed, fighting against her protesting ribs to pull air down into her screaming lungs; a growing darkness threatening to creep across her vision. ‘No!’

Yet even as her damaged body got its own way and the shadows clouded her sight, Fran distantly became aware that she was rolling onto one side and in this one action she took some solace that at least she wasn’t about to be left a defenceless cripple waiting for the Dead to claim her. Unfortunately this solace was all too short lived, for just as the last of her vision was shrouded in darkness she saw the corpse of the Dead woman standing in the tall grass to her left; its head slowly turning to fix her with its hungry glare.

‘No!’ she managed to feebly whisper, a thousand regrets and wishes instantly racing through her mind until, unable to fight against the needs of her body any longer, her eyes finally closed.

In the dark void of Fran’s unconsciousness she could feel a distant pulling on her body, a sharp tugging, movement and then a flash of pain. Yet even as these constructs danced at the corners of her mind, abstract, their meaning fleeting and transient, Fran could not help but feel the need to rile against them. She somehow knew she needed to pin down these sensations; to use them to claw her way back to the light and the reality that awaited her. So, as another jolt of pain shot through her, nerve endings crying out to be noticed, she saw her chance. Her mind zeroed in on their call, focusing on the pain like invisible hands groping through the darkness for something tangible, something real and then in an instant she was there, her eyes abruptly snapping open.

‘Jesus!’ she gasped, sucking air through her teeth, the muscles in her back protesting; the sight of the back of Kai’s moving legs beneath her the only thing she could see.

‘Almost there,’ she heard Kai puff, as the ground beneath his running feet changed from grass to weed clogged gravel. ‘You’re g…going to be alright, Fran. Everything’s g…going to be alright.’

‘Kai… what?’ she mumbled, her head foggy as she bounced along on Kai’s shoulder; waves of dizziness crashing over her.

And then in an instant the waves parted and with a sickening clarity the image of the female corpse with a dark vein-like mould creeping across her neck and face flashed across Fran’s mind.

‘No! Oh, my God, Kai… the Dead woman! The fucking Dead woman!’ she cried, struggling for him to put her down, despite the pain that bloomed across her back. ‘Did she bite me? Have I been bitten? Oh, my God… please, Kai, please tell me…’

‘Fran… Fran, it’s okay… it’s okay,’ he interrupted, coming to a stop and gently lowering her down from his broad shoulders.

‘I saw her… I’d fallen and… and I must have knocked my head,’ garbled Fran, unable to register Kai’s words as she sat on the gravel driveway frantically twisting her arms and legs, searching for bite marks, ‘it was going black and I saw her, Kai… and... and she saw me... Christ, she saw me!’

‘Fran… Fran!’ he repeated, taking her face in her hands; forcing her to look at him as he remembered finding the woman he loved lying unconscious in the grass; the corpse of a Dead woman already falling to its knees beside her. ‘It’s okay. I f…found you in time. It’s okay, it d…didn’t bite you. You’re okay… you’re okay, Fran.’

Gradually her frantic movements slowed as his words finally began to sink in and then with a sob of ultimate relief exploding from her, she threw her arms about his neck; almost welcoming the shooting pain from her back as she pulled him close to her.

‘Jesus… I thought… I thought,’ she sobbed into his neck, the realisation of just how close she had come to death making her grip onto Kai even tighter.

‘I know, I know,’ he replied, softly stroking her hair; trying not to think what would have happened if he had found her even a few seconds later, ‘I w...was there, r…remember? Fran, we’d b…better get back in cart. Are you okay t…to stand?’

‘What? Yes, yes I think so,’ she replied, reluctantly pulling away from him to wipe her tear stroked face; the action seeming to draw a line under the whole affair, consigning the experience to be just one more fearful incident of her past. ‘Guess I owe you,’ she went on to say, puffing away the last shaky remnants of emotion as she slowly rose to her feet; wincing as she moved her neck.

‘Yep,’ nodded Kai, automatically putting his arm protectively around her shoulder. ‘B…big time.’

‘Well, we’ll have to see what I can do to pay you back,’ she smiled, the brittle expression somewhat spoilt by the sharp intake of breath as her hand tentatively brushed against the lump forming on the back of her head.

‘P…plenty of time for that l…later,’ hushed Kai, reaching over to wrap his knuckles against the closed hatch.

With the sound of a bolt being drawn back the hatch suddenly swung open, revealing Tom perched in the opening, a wary look on his face.

‘She’s okay,’ said Kai, answering Tom’s unspoken question as the older man’s gaze flitted across Fran’s body; inevitably looking for any signs that she had been bitten. ‘A b…bump on the back of her head, and p…probably some bad bruising… but she’s okay.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ said Mike and Sam almost in unison.

‘But I did black out for a bit,’ added Fran, gingerly reaching for the open hatchway, her bruised back protesting against the movement, ‘so I may have a concussion, I don’t know.’

‘And what does that mean?’ asked Sam, offering her hand to help Fran climb through the open hatch. ‘I mean, what can we do if you do?’

‘Oh,’ said Fran, suddenly aware that she had no idea what, if anything, could be done if her fall had caused any real trauma. ‘Well… I don’t know… but I’m guessing the fact that I’m up and talking means it can’t be too serious... and I haven’t been sick. Isn’t that a good sign?’

‘Where are the bolt cutters?’ asked Tom, seemingly out of the blue.

‘Fuck you!’ snapped Fran, flipping him the finger as she climbed up into the cart; pushing a welcoming Bob out of the way so she could slowly ease herself down onto one of the benches.

‘She’ll be fine,’ smirked Tom, returning to his seat. ‘Takes more than a bump on the head to put this one out of action.’

Gathering together the reins in his hands, Tom paused. Unobserved by the others behind him as they fussed over Fran, he briefly closed his eyes and blew out a long shaky breath. Truth be told, his dismissive remark was purely to hide his overwhelming relief that Fran had returned to them alive with nothing worse than a few bumps and scrapes for her troubles. It could so easily have ended differently and he knew it. So with heart wrenching and bloody images flashing from his memory of other, far more tragic times, he slowly opened his eyes again and looked at the gravel access road ahead of them.

‘Right,’ he finally said, his voice once more the controlled whisper of a seasoned traveller among the Dead, ‘let’s see if we can get to this Trelissick place without any more holdups, shall we?’

And with that he flicked the reins; their journey continuing once more with the creek of wood and the rhythmic clip-clop of Star’s hooves as their constant company.

***

‘Fran, you might want to brace yourself,’ warned Tom, glancing back at her as she rolled her head back and forth, trying to ease her bruised muscles.

‘Why?’ she whispered, halting her movements with a sigh of exasperation. ‘What now?’

‘We’re coming up to a cattle grid,’ he replied nodding back to the road ahead of them. ‘Looks like it’s over a small stream or something.’

‘Great,’ tutted Fran, rolling her eyes as she went back to massaging the side of her neck with her fingers.

‘I guess they must’ve used this Trelissick landing place as a crossing point back in the olden days,’ suggested Tom. ‘You know, before lorries or whatever, when they needed to bring their cattle to market.’

‘Thanks for the riveting history lesson,’ muttered Fran, the aches in her back putting her in an especially bad mood and making her a bit short tempered.

‘Okay… I’ll just shut up then,’ mumbled Tom, in reply.

‘Oh... shit… look, I’m sorry,’ she apologised, realising she was needlessly taking her discomfort out on everybody else, ‘it’s just my back is killing me, I’m hungry and… and I could really do with a wee.’

‘But other than that you’re a happy bunny?’ asked Tom, smirking as he glanced back over his shoulder; pleased to see an embarrassed smile creeping across Fran’s face.

‘Look, I said sorry, didn’t I? You can…’ she started to reply just as the cart wheels rattled over the cattle grid; jolting everyone inside the cart and rather unceremoniously shaking Bob awake from his nap.

With a single startled bark erupting from his throat, everyone in the cart froze; each of them all too aware the sound could attract the Dead.

‘No, Bob!’ hissed Fran, instinctively clamping her hand around the dog’s muzzle hopeful to silence any further sounds from escaping. ‘Sshhh… good boy… ssshhhh.’

‘Anything?’ asked Mike, nervously looking from Bob to Tom and praying that after all they had gone through they weren’t going to get torn to pieces because of a stupid cattle grid and a surprised mangy dog that broke wind too much.

‘There’s three further down the road and then a couple more after that,’ whispered Tom in reply, instantly knowing what Mike meant. ‘They don’t look like they’re in a hurry to get anywhere in particular, so I guess they didn’t hear him.’

‘Thank fuck!’ breathed Mike, looking anxiously over to Sam clutching their daughter close to her chest.

With a fragile smile on her lips, Sam met her husband’s gaze; both of them quite unsure just who was meant to be reassuring whom.

‘How far are we from this crossing anyway?’ Fran eventually asked, her voice still a whisper even though she was sure they weren’t about to be mobbed by the Dead.

‘Well, as far as I can tell from the map, the gardens and the gallery place are just the other side of this wall’ he replied. ‘I’d be surprised if we didn’t see an entrance to the place coming up on the right anytime soon… and then after that it’s straight down to the river and a right turn to Mike’s barge thing.’

For the last five minutes they had followed the high, moss and ivy covered wall that ran the perimeter of the Trelissick Gardens and with the river barely a hundred metres beyond that, they knew they had almost reach the crossing point of Trelissick Landing.

Sure enough, the high walls on their right suddenly fell away revealing a wide gravel driveway. Peering to his right just as Star pulled the cart past a pair of open wrought-iron gates, Tom’s gaze followed the driveway cutting through the overgrown, yet still strikingly landscaped garden, up to the imposing Georgian manor house; its exterior framed by eight tall ivory columns. Tom had to admit it, despite the fact that some of the windows had been broken and that much of the building was now covered in a mix of red and green ivy, the building was still an impressive sight to see. Yet it was not the unexpected grandeur of the building that caused Tom to pause and double take at what he was seeing but rather the trail of smoke rising from one of the many chimneys up into the late afternoon sky.

‘Looks like someone’s home,’ he whispered, pulling Star to a halt; nodding in the direction of the large house. ‘They’ve got a fire going.’

‘Really?’ said Mike, unsure if he should be pleased or wary that they had found signs of other survivors so very close to White Oak Park. ‘I mean with the high walls around Trelissick, yeah, I guess it would make sense that someone would use it but… but what about White Oak? Shouldn’t we try there first anyway… it’s so close?’

‘Hmmm… well, something tells me whoever’s in there either hasn’t been there very long,’ offered Tom, his eyes narrowing as he thoughtfully scratched his beard, ‘or I think they’d be more trouble than their worth.’