Undead at Heart (8 page)

He kept expecting to
come across some kind of path or clearing, but these woods seemed entirely
unmanaged and untouched by human hand. He wondered how long it had been since
anyone had walked between these trees, or even if they ever had. Maybe this was
primordial forest that had never known man’s presence before.

This thought was cut
short when they passed around another of the impenetrable stands of trees which
blocked their way, to see that the trees ended only a hundred yards in front of
them. The woods thinned allowing sunlight to light the ground, and then there
was grass visible beyond.

As they walked towards
this oasis of light the leaf-litter became
more sparse
and the ground grew more solid underfoot, making the going easier and allowing
them to move faster. A few yards from the end of the shade, Tony saw a picnic
bench sitting on the grass in the sunlight. For a moment he wondered if it was
a mirage, a drowning man spying a pool of water with its attendant date trees.
But it never wavered, and as they emerged finally into the light he saw that it
was not isolated. Beyond the bench were four, five, six, ten,
twelve
more. They led in a scattering to a large brick
building with a glass conservatory. And then Tony saw the sign at the front
which announced this was The Hare and Hounds. They’d found a pub, and for a
moment Tony considered believing in God.

Now onto the soft
grass, Sam paused to remove her shoes, and they half-ran over the grounds to
the building. There were no lights showing from inside, but there were half a
dozen cars parked outside, and the doors and windows were open. As they reached
the car park Sam stopped again to put her shoes back on. Tony waited
impatiently, and then as soon as she had them back on, set off again, with her
trailing him. He neared the open doors of the conservatory and heard voices
inside. At last! People!
Someone who could help him.

They walked into the
bright conservatory and looked around. There was no-one in the room in which
they found themselves, though there were some half-eaten meals grown cold on
one of the tables near the window. The voices were coming from deeper inside,
in the gloom of the pub proper. Probably gathered at the bar, Tony thought, and
led Sam through.

The talking stopped as
everyone watched the new-comers walk in.

A large dark-haired
man and a much smaller, rounded blonde woman were standing behind the bar. In
front of it, his hand raised, finger accusing, in the middle of making a
serious point was an older man with a shrew-faced woman next to him. Beyond
them, perched at the bar were a young couple. She was holding a babe in arms,
cooing to it. Two men in builder’s garb were beyond them, and then finally were
what looked like the chef and the waitress for the pub’s restaurant.

Tony raised his hand
at all the eyes staring at him.
“Erm… hello?”

“Ah good, someone who
is bound to agree with me,” said the angry man at the bar. The woman Tony
presumed was his wife nodded, while the others rolled their eyes. The man who
appeared to be the landlord simply sighed.

“Don’t give me that,
Alan,” said the man in answer to the sigh. “You know I’m right, you just don’t
want to admit it.”

“I’ve told you once,
Bert, and I’ll tell you again. The power might have gone, but that is not a
reason for me to give you a free drink.”

“Yes, it is. You’ve
already told me that I can’t have my sticky toffee pudding and custard because you
need electricity to cook it. And, I might add, you advertise it as home-cooked
and now I find out that you microwave it.”

Now it was the turn of
the blonde woman – the landlady, Tony guessed – to sigh. “I do cook it myself,
but then we chill it and heat it up again as it’s needed in the micr-.”

Bert cut her off.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you advertise this dish as available
and now it’s not, so you should give me some kind of recompense. And what I
want is another pint.”

“And I don’t care what
you want. I’ve told you about that too. The drinks are pumped from the cellar
using an electric pump, so we can’t do that either! If you want a drink you can
have anything we have in a bottle or can. But-,”
  Alan
continued even as Bert tried to interrupt him, “- BUT, you will have to pay for
it. You can have another of our desserts. All the ice-creams are still
available, at least until they melt. But the pudding is off!”

Bert mumbled something
which sounded very rude under his breath and turned an appealing eye to Tony.

“Come on in, lad. You
can tell him. Surely you can see that I’m right!”

Tony just looked
around the room as every eye looked to him for his verdict. He thought of all that
had happened to him in such a short while, and how normal this new situation
seemed, and didn’t have a clue what to say.

Despite the hobbling
of the still-wounded, the group emerged from the Centre’s woodland trail much
faster than they’d entered it. Having shouted the retreat, Nicola had stolen
the march on them and was at their head as she plunged back into the forest.
Alyssa was in her arms once again but was no longer quiet. When her mother had
shouted and snatched her up she had started wailing and hadn’t stopped as her
mother had bounced her down the path.

With no real thought
for direction, just a desire to move away from the sounds of destruction which
were still creeping nearer, she led the ragged band through the woods. She
heard the cries of people stumbling and falling behind her, but she didn’t turn
and she didn’t stop. Despite all that had happened this afternoon, she had
managed to keep her head.
Until now.
This was panic in
all its raging glory and she was giving it full rein. She hadn’t wanted to be
their ‘leader’, but she had taken on the role because everyone expected her to.
Like so many things in her life, the expectation of others had over-ridden her
own wishes and desires. But all that was forgotten now and she simply ran, to
protect
herself
and to protect her daughter.

She stumbled and fell
more than once, but each time she twisted, cat-like, to land on her back, and
then with a roll she was up on her knees, Alyssa still in her arms, and then
she was on her feet and running.

The noise of the beams
churning the earth stopped, but Nicola carried on running. Alyssa’s wailing
finally calmed to breathy sobs, but Nicola kept on running. The noise of the
others following her started to fade, but she kept on running.

She didn’t stop until
the canopy of the forest disappeared from over her and she found herself wading
into a field of some kind of grain. The combination of the sudden shocking
light and the impediment of the crops brought her shuddering to a stop and
crashing to her knees. Alyssa struggled from her arms, seemingly wanting to get
away from this crazy woman who had replaced her mother, but she didn’t run off,
simply stood and watched, panting, as her mother started to sob into hands
which she had raised to cover her face.

Nicola did not stay
there very long. Her worries of death and destruction raining once more from
the skies – especially in this exposed location – were too pressing. They
brought her back to herself and lifted her once more from her knees to her
feet.

Alyssa was looking at
her, concerned. “Are you okay, mummy?”

Nicola thought for a
moment, but not for the first time, how strange it was to hear that English
word, ‘mummy’, coming from the mouth of the child who had first called her
‘mom’. Alyssa had taken to England and its version of her language much faster
than Nicola could ever have expected. She had already lost almost all traces of
an American accent, and Nicola knew that she would grow up sounding distinctly
different to her mother. She guessed it was another reason why she sometimes
felt alienated from her own child. But nothing could have been more distant
now. She had almost been playing along and performing a role up until now, but
all of a sudden this six year old child and her safety were the most important
things in her world. She wanted time to savour this, to remember that this
should have been her priority all along, but knew that any analysing would have
to wait for later.

She heard noises
behind her and turned. It was Stan, wading through the corn, with Dave a little
way behind, and a handful of the others. She could see one or two more at the
edge of the trees, but that was all. Suddenly, the guilt of her sudden flight
hit her as well. The weight of all her responsibilities threatened to crush
her, but she knew she couldn’t let them, so she took a deep breath and buried
them for the moment. There would be a reckoning later, but that was later.

“Sorry about that. Did
everyone make it?” she asked Stan.

He nodded. “Yes, I
think so. A few with burned legs or feet are taking a little longer, but I
don’t think the flying saucers, or whatever the fuck they were, came anywhere
close to us in the end. It just sounded like it.”

“It sure did,” was her
response, and she was amazed to hear a small laugh escape her mouth.

“Sounded like a
mountain crashing towards us, eh?” Stan was also laughing. She could tell from
his expression that he was as incredulous at his mirth as she had been. She
guessed this was what adrenaline come-down felt like.

“A
whole range!”

“A
continent
!”

The others were
gathering around them now, watching them laugh. Some joined in and some just
looked baffled or a little hurt, but Nicola couldn’t stop. She laughed hard, on
the verge of tears, on the verge of screaming, until she was suddenly brought
back to herself, and back to sanity, by a small warm hand pressing into hers.

She looked down into
Alyssa’s now calm blue eyes. “
It’s
okay, Mummy.
Everything will be okay.”

Nicola felt a laugh
threaten at the very serious way her daughter was talking to her, but fought it
back. It was enough. Her daughter was okay. The band of strangers who were
looking to her for salvation
were
okay. She would be
okay.

For the first time
since emerging from the forest she looked around properly and saw, on the
horizon, the top of a silo. Where there’s a silo, there’s a farm, she reasoned,
and decided that should be their destination. If nothing else these people
needed the security of walls and a roof. She couldn’t guarantee that a farm
would provide much more, but she could at least try and give them that.

Couldn’t be any
worse than the last place
, she thought, and felt another giggle threaten. She straightened her
face and turned to the re-assembled group. She waited till they were looking at
her, then she turned and pointed to the horizon. She tried to think of stirring
words to give them hope, but nothing came. So, in the end, she simply said,
“Let’s try there,” and set off, walking slowly enough for everyone to keep up,
half-leading and half-led by her daughter.

Sam watched Tony and
waited for him to speak. He was frozen, his mouth slightly open, and she could
see his eyes moving round the room, trying to find the words. Maybe, if she had
been a
more shallow
person, she would have found this
disappointing. She would have seen that he wasn’t the strong man that she had
thought he was. But none of this crossed her mind. She was touched by his
humanity, by his sensitive nature, and so she decided to come to his aid.

“Well, I don’t know
the answer to your argument,” she stepped forward, feeling self-conscious as
all the eyes in the room turned to look at her, “but I could certainly do with
a drink, even if it is from a bottle. And why don’t I buy one for Bert. In
fact, why don’t I buy one for everyone?”

She stepped up to the
bar and placed her order of a vodka and diet coke, and the others started to
follow suit, the argument utterly wiped away by a beautiful young woman buying
a round for the them all. She glanced over and saw that Tony had regained a
little of his composure, and had moved to the back of the group, waiting his
turn to place his order. She smiled at him and he gave a weak smile in return.

“She’s right,” he
said.

“Whoever’s buying is
always right, lad. Don’t you know that?” Bert interrupted with a laugh.

Tony gave him a flash
of his teeth then continued. “She’s right. We all need a drink. I have a hell
of a tale to tell you, and a little alcohol will just make it easier to hear.”

He left them hanging
at the end of his sentence and ordered a double Glenfiddich. Sam smiled more
broadly at him, though he wasn’t looking at her. She knew he just needed a
moment, a guiding hand, and was glad she had been able to help him.

A few minutes later,
with everyone gathered around, glasses in hand, Tony started to tell the tale.
He had lifted himself up to sit on a table, to get a little height over the
rest who had each drawn up a chair. Sam perched on a stool by the side of his
table, looking up at him from time to time and occasionally nodding and meeting
the audience’s eyes to confirm the truth of what he was saying.