Island of the Dead Read online

  “Don't bother,” Alex called out, “It's trapped in there.”

  The creature staggered back then lunged forward, smashing into the glass again as Clare laughed.

  “Stupid fucker! The door's over there!” she indicated to the buckled door, still laughing as the creature backed up and repeated its fruitless attempt to smash through the window.

  With the tank filled, Alex got back into his car and Emma called to Clare, she watched as the corpse smashed its head against the glass again, then hurried back to the lorry. Moments later they were moving out, Alex leading the way as Emma drove on behind, as the headlights cut through the darkness and they went on down the lonely road, feeling much safer now fuel would not be a problem.

  Morning broke warm and bright over the island of Wolfsheer. Vicki woke with a jolt at the sound of running footsteps, snapped her eyes open and looked into the face of a living corpse as it snarled. She gave a gasp as her senses shifted out of panic mode and for a second she hated herself because it was actually Zodiac standing there, smiling with his translucent eyes sparkling.

  “Good morning!”

  “Good morning to you too,” she replied, pulling the sheets a little higher over her shoulders as beneath the covers, Greg's hand slid over her hip and he tuned around, resting his head on her shoulder as he lay beside her and looked sleepily at his son.

  “Oh no, it's too early! Why did you wake us? Why are you even up at sunrise?”

  “I want to go to the pond!”

  “Later, after breakfast,” Greg said, still sounding as tired as he felt, “I'll be up in a minute, I'll get your breakfast ready.”

  “Okay,” Zodiac said brightly, then he ran out of the room again and headed off noisily down the stairs. Greg turned on his back and gave a sigh.

  “I didn't get back till gone midnight. You were fast asleep...” he turned his head and looked at her.

  “Are you okay, Vicki? You look really pale.”

  She sat up and nodded.

  “I'm fine. I went to bed early, I felt so tired. I missed you last night.”

  “And I have to run the bar again today,” he reminded her, “I open at one and close at six and then open at eight and close at midnight. Not that I'm expecting many people to turn up – the booze ran out yesterday. I hope Emma remembers I need more stock.”

  “I hope she's doing okay out there!” Vicki exclaimed, “It's so dangerous out there... we don't know what they could be up against.”

  He got out of bed and she turned to catch a glimpse of his toned body, perfect as it was framed by sunlight as he reached for his dressing gown and put it on.

  “I'd better get breakfast started.”

  “I'll be down soon,” Vicki replied.

  “Are you sure you're okay?” Greg leaned in closer with a questioning look in his eyes.

  “I'm fine,” she lied.

  “See you in ten minutes,” he replied, kissing her fondly, then he left the room and closed the door behind him.

  Vicki got out of bed and put on a silken robe, then she left the bedroom and crossed the hallway to the bathroom. As she went inside she stopped, staring at her reflection:

  Her face was pale and on the right side of her head, visible gaps were forming where she had tugged at her hair.

  “Shit,” she muttered, raking her fingers through it.

  Then she recalled the image of Stacy, bloody and accusing. Of course that had not been real... She knew she was losing her grip on reality, and it had to stop. She hoped a shower and time to dry and brush her hair would hide the evidence of her hair pulling, and then as she turned on the shower and as she stepped under the water she desperately hoped Zodiac would not break his promise about her behaviour the night before...

  Greg was boiling eggs laid by hens from the farm and had just put the kettle on to make some tea. Zodiac was at the table with a glass of milk. He looked to his father thoughtfully and then asked a question.

  “Daddy, why do some people think they see a person when there isn't a person and then shout at them?”

  Greg turned from the heating kettle and stared at his son.

  “What? Who has been doing that?”

  Zodiac hesitated, feeling guilty for raising suspicion when Vicki had made a promise and he had agreed to stick to their arrangement.

  “What's going on, son?” Greg's voice hardened as he looked at Zodiac, and it was a look that his son knew too well: Daddy needed to know the truth.

  “Vicki was shouting at someone,” he said in a lowered voice, “Last night before sundown. I came in from the garden and asked her what was wrong and she said it was nothing. But she was behaving like someone was in here. Daddy, no one was in the kitchen, she was alone. I told her she needs to go and see Christian when he comes back, he can help. Please don't tell her I told you, I promised I wouldn't say anything if she went to Doctor Wells.”

  “She made you promise?” Greg exclaimed as he held back on letting anger show through in his voice.

  “Yes Daddy, she did.”

  Greg glanced towards the doorway, saw no sign of Vicki and then looked back at his son and nodded.

  “Okay, thanks for telling me. Don't worry, I won't say anything to her. But you are right, it sounds like she needs to go back to Christian and get some more medicine. She used to take medicine a few years ago... I won't tell her what you said.”

  Just then Vicki entered the room, her hair was damp from the shower and tied back and she smiled as she said good morning again and took a seat at the table. Greg barely replied as Zodiac smiled then grabbed his milk and took a drink from the glass, his father was acting almost as if nothing had happened, so he was going to behave the same way...

  In the infirmary, where the building stood empty because the only doctor on the island was absent, deep in the heart of the place, beyond the lab and the door marked Isolation, the creature on the table had grown restless. The drip feed of blood and sedatives had run dry and the corpse named Lillith had struggled against the secure bonds, then twisted and writhed, the absence of limbs had become an advantage as she twisted and turned, half slipping off the head of the table as first one amputated stump broke free of the restraint, then with another turn, the other stump came free.

  Now her body was hanging off the table and as she shifted and turned again, she fell, slipping head first, landing hard as her skull cracked and dark blood seeped out. Lillith grunted and gave a weakened snarl, the effort to twist up and out of the straps had been difficult, but as she rolled, making snake like movements on all four stumps, she looked to the door way, then slithered, jerking left and right as she slipped through her own blood, heading for the locked door.

  As the creature came up against the door, she slammed her head against it. The door shuddered, the bolt on the other side of it shuddered too, slipping back a fraction. The creature felt the vibration, an indication that the barrier was loosening, and slammed her head against the door again. The bolt jumped, she repeated the action, making a crashing sound that no one heard as the noise travelled beyond the lab and down the empty corridor. Now there was a noticeable dent in her skull right where she had split her head open after landing from the table, with a dark red gaping wound where blood spilled, but she crashed against the door again and this time it bounced, letting in fresh air filled with the scent and promise of many living beyond it. Lillith slammed her head against the door a final time and it snapped ajar as the bolt slipped free.

  She raised her head and sniffed at the air, then slithered and twisted, leaving a trail of blood behind her as she headed for the door of the lab. It had been left pulled close, but it was not shut. The creature kept dead eyes fixed on the door, slipping and slithering as she left her bloody trail, moving snake-like towards it.

  After breakfast, Greg had gone back upstairs to get dressed, then returned and announced he was taking Zodiac over to the pond.

  “You can stay here,” he said to Vicki, who looked up from finishing her tea and
met his gaze with a look of confusion, “I'm going to ask Helen if my son can join the older kids in school today...just for today.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I want some time alone with you,” was all he said in reply, then he called to Zodiac and they had left the house.

  Now she was alone, silence overwhelmed her. Vicki got up and hurried from the kitchen, wondering if being alone in that room would bring back memories of the night before and cause another hallucination. She dashed up the stairs, went back to the bedroom and threw on a short summer dress and then slipped on her shoes. All the while she had been dressing she had been listening, feeling sure she would see something move out of the corner of her eye, but she saw no sign of Stacy. Then she went to the window, gripped by the through that the oil covered corpse had somehow rolled all its pieces back together in a bloody ball and slowly taken five years to reform into its old image. She knew it made no sense as she tore back the curtain and anxiously scanned the treeline. There was nothing there as the breeze shifted leaves lightly and the morning sun shone down.

  But still that feeling gripped her that something terrible was about to happen. She grabbed at her hair, winding it around her finger and giving a sharp tug. This time she didn't tell herself to stop and she did it again, focussing on the pain and oblivious to the strands that fell away as she twisted and tugged repeatedly, waiting for Greg to return, waiting for the sense of dread to lift. She couldn't bear the silence and being alone was killing her, she felt it as sure as fear was swallowing her up...

  A short while later Vicki heard the front door close, it shut heavier than usual and she let go of her hair, brushed strands from her sweating palms and ran her fingers through her hair and gave her head a shake, turned to the mirror and felt sure the patches wouldn't notice. Then she left the bedroom and headed downstairs, keen to end the torture of being alone.

  “Come through to the front room,” Greg said as he waited at the bottom of the stairs, “We need to talk.”

  As he walked off she followed him, wondering why his tone had suddenly become so serious.

  “Sit down.”

  Vicki sat on the sofa. Greg sat beside her. He paused for a moment, taking a long look at her, and she started to smile. Her gaze wandered over the sight of her lover looking handsome and intense as he sat there in his dark suit. He had left off his jacket and tie and his shirt was partially open.

  “We certainly need some alone time,” she said, smiling, but her smile soon faded as Greg just sat there, still looking at her with a serious expression.

  “What's wrong?” she asked as her voice dropped and she grasped at her hair and twisted it around her finger, giving a sharp tug.

  “Don't do that,” Greg said.

  “Sorry...”

  “Vicki, my son doesn't keep secrets from me. He said he saw you arguing with someone but there was no one else in the room. What the hell is going on?”

  She drew in a sharp breath as tears formed in her eyes. She grabbed at another lock of her hair and twisted it rapidly, tugging as strands came away at the roots.

  “No!” he said firmly, shifting closer and taking hold of her hand, “Stop doing that and answer the question. I'm trying not to be angry with you, I know Zodiac is a bright kid – his intelligence goes way beyond his years but he's still five years old. He shouldn't have seen you behaving like that. What did you see in the kitchen?”

  He still had her hand in his grasp. He was looking intently into her eyes as he spoke again.

  “Just explain, so I can understand? I'm trying to help you.”

  “I saw Stacy.”

  “Stacy? My Stacy?”

  Vicki nodded.

  “She's been dead for five years. You didn't see her, Vicki!” he said firmly.

  As she became tearful she reached up with her free hand, grasping at her hair and tugging again.

  “I did see her and she said it was my fault she was dead! She said the creature didn't hurt me because it liked me, it liked my hair...and she said I was wrong about everything, it was my fault she died... She said I stole you from her!”

  Vicki's eyes were wide as she trembled. She tugged at her hair again.

  “Stop that!” Greg said sharply, “She's not here, you imagined it! And as there's no visit from Marc this morning, it doesn't look good for my best friend, Parsons or Christian! Now I want you to think...” he paused, catching her hand as she tugged at her hair again, now pinning both her hands in her lap, “When Christian helped you before, did he keep notes on your condition?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank you,” he replied, “Now I know what to do. You and me are going over to the infirmary, I'm going to find your notes and then sort out some meds. I'm going to make better, Vicki. Do you believe me?”

  She stifled a sob as she nodded.

  “Come here,” he said softly, and pulled her into a protective embrace. As he held her she continued to weep.

  “It's okay,” he told her as he cradled her in his arms, “I'll sort this out, I'll put a stop this for you, trust me.”

  Morning had broken to a clear view ahead of empty road as Emma drove onwards, now tiredness was kicking in and as she blinked and yawned, Clare glanced at her.

  “Maybe we should stop for a while.”

  “Good idea,” she replied, then she sounded the horn and slowed the lorry, stopping off the road beneath the shade of a tree.

  Alex pulled up, reversed back and also parked on the roadside, then Emma got out of the cab followed by Clare and they went over to the car.

  “We need to rest,” Emma said, “I was driving all night – and we need food too.”

  “I know a place,” Alex replied, “We are almost there... “

  He pointed across a field to an old house of red brick. Roof tiles were missing but the windows were intact and it was surrounded by a low brick wall.

  “Who lives there?” Clare asked.

  He smiled.

  “I have passed this way before. When I find an empty place I make myself at home. I have food there.”

  The two women exchanged a glance.

  “But you said you never come out this far?”

  “I said I had not gone further than the previous town. We travelled this route to avoid the motorway and the scattered cars several times. I stopped off here twice recently, but not with the fellows that did the last run... nicer folk from Circus, ones who actually talked to me! Most folk ignore me, I don't know why!”

  Emma recalled his strange behaviour and the way he had flapped his arms like a bird.

  “I don't know why either, “she said kindly, “But yes we will take up your offer, Alex. Thank you.”

  “We just have to follow the road and then turn left, then take a right and head up the lane,” he said as he went back to his car, “The lorry won't fit in the driveway, but you can park on the road outside.”

  Then he got back in his car and started up the engine.

  “We barely know him,” Clare pointed out as they headed back to the lorry.

  “I think we can trust him,” Emma replied, “I have a feeling and my intuition is rarely wrong.”

  “If it is wrong,” Clare said as Emma climbed back into the cab and she joined her, “I'm ready with my gun.” Then she closed the door and Emma started up the engine and they drove off, once again following the car in front.

  On Raven Isle, it had been a rough night for the prisoners in the cage. Parsons had finally broken free of his bonds in the early hours of the morning, then untied Christian and whispered that they had to stay in their uncomfortable positions, to look to passing guards like nothing was amiss. He had drawn the cleaver from its pouch and now clutched it tightly behind his back as they waited, knowing it would be a long day, trapped and waiting for a moment to make a desperate break for freedom.

  Over at Shadowbone's residence, Marc had woken to a kiss from Raven, then she had thrust a gun into his hands. He sat up and checked the weapon, inwardly f
eeling a huge surge of relief to realise it was still loaded.

  “Have I pleased you?” Raven said, looking at him keenly as she sat on the edge of the bed.

  He nodded.

  “Yes,” Marc replied, and he reached around and took a pillow from behind him and handed it to her.

  “Just hold that.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because you look beautiful,” he replied, meeting her gaze as determination to survive killed all feeling of guilt at what he planned to do next: She was unarmed, he was about to kill an unarmed woman. Not one of those living dead creatures, this was a human, but all the same, just as dangerous. His mind was made up now... He wasn't leaving this island alone, he was going to find a way to save the others or die trying.

  “Kiss me,” he said softly, and as she clutched the pillow to her body he leaned in, jamming the gun against its cushioning as he pulled the trigger. She jerked back as the shot was muffled by the pillow, falling on to the bed as the pillow slipped from her hands with a bloody hole on one side as she bled profusely from a wound to her belly. Blood ran from her mouth and her eyes were turned to the ceiling. She was dead. He was glad it had been quick, because that had meant she was silenced. No one knew he was about to make a break for freedom...

  Back on Wolfsheer, the undead creature named Lillith had worked her way out of the lab, now the limbless corpse trailed a thick smear of blood as it slithered up the corridor, turned around a corner, then took an open doorway and twisted and slipped and rolled and found a shadowy spot beneath a desk. There was another doorway beyond this room and it was open, leading to a treatment area. The corpse laid low, sniffing at the air as it sensed warm life and fresh blood was close by. It waited, watching, alert for its next meal as somewhere beyond the room, a door opened and voices drifted in: