Ghostland (Book 3): Ghostland 3 Page 4

  “Oh, and by the way.” The large man called over to them and pointed to where they had just come from. “Don’t bother going that way, especially if you’re looking for supplies.”

  “Nothing there?” Dicko asked.

  “No, there isn’t. Plus, there’s a herd of the dead not too far away. About twenty of them.”

  The two of them disappeared into the greenery and Dicko thanked them for the warning.

  He turned to Yoler and she asked him, “Now what?”

  “Straight ahead.” Dicko pointed in front of him. “I was thinking of going that way anyway.”

  “It’s a village up ahead, meaning more people and potential Canavars.”

  “Also means that there could be food.” Dicko began to walk and Yoler stayed by his side. “Better not go too far. Even if we find a shit load of supplies and fill your bags, it’s not gonna last that long with eight mouths to feed. And I’m not too sure it’s worth trying to grow shit this time of year.”

  They could see that the road was getting steep and moaned as they made their way up. The road began to straighten and flatten, and they could both see that the village could be seen to their left. There was a main road that ran by the side of the village. It dipped and then inclined, and most of the place was situated at the bottom of the road where it dipped. The pub was up ahead, at the top of the hill, and the residential part was mainly in the area where the road was at its lowest point. It was almost as if a massive crater was there before and the village had been built at the bottom of it.

  They went by the sign that stated: “Welcome to Trongate” and could see seven or eight streets, a pub, a primary school and a newsagents. The place was lucky to have had a population of seven hundred in the old world. But now...

  “What do we check out first?” Yoler sighed.

  Dicko hunched his shoulders and said, “The pub? If there’s anything in there, which I doubt, then there’d be no point trying out the houses if we can fill our bags.”

  “If you say so.” She nodded in the direction of the pub and they could both see that some of the windows had been smashed in. “Doesn’t look good though, does it? Probably was raided in the first week, last year.”

  “May as well try anyway.”

  “Okay.” Yoler sounded less than enthusiastic.

  “Shall we?”

  Chapter Nine

  “Make sure you don’t let her out of your sight,” Lisa Newton warned Gavin.

  Gavin and Grace, after their little scare earlier, had decided to go mushroom and berry picking, whilst Lisa and Helen washed some clothes as well as themselves. Helen was weak in this new world, but Donald knew she was in good hands with Lisa by her side. It was only a short trip to the pond, but he still worried. Helen and Lisa left with a bag full of dirty clothes, and Donald sat on the step of the cabin, next to young David, and watched Gavin and Grace walk into the woods with an old carrier bag that had seen better days.

  Gavin screwed the carrier bag up and put it into his pocket and took out his knife from the opposite one.

  “Have any idea where these berries could be?” Grace asked.

  “Nope.” Gavin began to laugh.

  “But you’ve stayed here for a while now, on and off.”

  “I know, but we rarely went walking into the woods,” Gavin said. “I suppose, in the beginning, we didn’t need to. We had a decent amount of supplies, but now...”

  “So you have no idea?”

  “We won’t go far.” Gavin smiled at Grace, knowing she was feeling agitated and confused by his behaviour, so he tried to explain. “Look, I hate hanging around that place. It’s so boring. And who knows? We may come across something.”

  Their walk continued for another three minutes and they constantly looked to their side, in front, and behind them. Aware that a lack of concentration could cost them their lives, their frantic looking continued until Gavin stopped suddenly. Grace did the same and asked what was wrong.

  “Can you see what I can see?” he said with a smile.

  “Um ... no.” Grace ran her fingers through her greasy hair and asked Gavin, “Why are we stopping?”

  Gavin pointed up ahead and said, “Look.”

  Grace stared in the direction of where the finger was pointing and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s another tree. So what?”

  “Look up.”

  Grace did as she was told, and saw the apples that hung off the branches of the tree that they were in front of.

  “Shit.” Grace’s eyes widened and she ran over to it.

  “Wait up.” Gavin put his knife away and added, “I don’t think they should be picked until late summer to early autumn.”

  “You seriously want to wait?”

  “Probably not.” Gavin walked over to Grace and could see she was about to climb up it. “I’m sure they’re still edible.”

  He took out the carrier bag from his pocket and opened it out. He watched as she climbed higher and he told her to shake the branch, but she insisted on picking them one by one. Gavin stayed on the ground and opened out the carrier bag, ready for Grace to drop the apples into it.

  “Be careful!” Gavin called up.

  Grace had managed to pick two apples and dropped them. Gavin moved around with the opened bag and managed to catch them.

  “This is taking forever,” he moaned. “Just shake the bloody branch.”

  “Just let me do it my way.” Grace began to climb across a thick branch and Gavin wasn’t sure if the branch would be able to take her weight. She dropped three more into Gavin’s bag and ten minutes later the bag was full and Grace was now on the ground, exhausted.

  She reached into the bag that Gavin was carrying and pulled out one of the apples and took a bite.

  “Tastes alright,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

  “Oi, that’s the camp’s stash,” Gavin said, but she could see he was joking.

  “Hang on.” She took another bite and added, “I worked for these bad boys. I earned at least one apple. Helen never goes out on supply runs.”

  “Helen has uses in other departments.” Gavin wasn’t joking anymore. He was annoyed that Grace was berating Helen, and felt that it was his duty to defend the woman that he cared for.

  “Oh.” A smile crept onto Grace’s face and this made Gavin suspicious.

  “What?”

  “You have a thing for Helen, don’t you?”

  “Me?” Gavin shook his head. He cared for Helen, but he had no desire to be her partner, although he would have been lying if he claimed that he had never fantasised about having sex with her. “Donald has a thing for her. Not me.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She took another bite and Gavin reached to grab the apple she had now half eaten.

  “Get off,” she moaned.

  He went to grab the apple again and she moved away. He walked forwards with the bag, towards Grace, and she giggled as he tried to playfully grab the apple again. She ran a few yards and he ran after her. She giggled and ran through the woods. Gavin followed with the heavy carrier bag in his right hand.

  She veered left and he did the same, now both of them laughing. She almost tripped over a large tree root and Gavin decided to run to the side and began to make growling noises, making the girl scream. Grace laughed and turned to the side and could see that Gavin had disappeared.

  She stopped running and was panting hard. She gazed around the wooded area and couldn’t see Gavin at all.

  “Very funny, Gavin,” she said. “Where are you?”

  “Down here,” came a timid voice.

  She screwed her face in befuddlement and walked in the direction of where the voice had come from. Her feet continued to wade through the bracken and stopped when she came across a large ditch. It was around six feet in length and in width, and almost eight feet in depth. She looked down and could see Gavin was down there, the apples scattered along the floor.

  “Are you hurt?” Grace asked him.

/>   “Not really,” Gavin called up. “I’m surprised I didn’t break my leg.”

  “What the hell is this?”

  “No idea. It looks man made.”

  Grace lay on her stomach and tried to reach down.

  Gavin didn’t even attempt to reach up. He knew it was useless and Grace certainly didn’t have the strength to pull him up.

  “Go and get Donald,” he called up.

  “The ditch is too deep.”

  “I know, but he’s got some rope back in the cabin. Go get him.”

  “Okay.”

  “And be quick. This is creepy as hell.”

  “Be back as soon as I can.”

  Grace turned and ran through the woods, heading for the camp. She didn’t know how far they had walked and wasn’t the fittest, but was sure that she could run there without stopping.

  Chapter Ten

  They walked around the perimeter of the pub before going inside, and found nothing untoward apart from some broken windows. They were certain that people had already been here. Whether it was last week or months ago, people had definitely been here, which possibly meant that the owners no longer resided in the establishment.

  No words were exchanged between the male and female, and as soon as the circumference of the pub had been completed, Dicko tried the main door. Both weren’t surprised that it was open.

  “Shall we?” Dicko said with a smile.

  Yoler was the first to step inside and Dicko had a quick look behind him before entering.

  They made sure the door was shut behind them and looked around in the dim room. It was a place that Dicko had never been in, but was aware that, like most pubs, it had living arrangements upstairs and there was a cellar somewhere.

  “I think the best thing we can do is check the kitchen and the cellar,” Dicko said to his female companion. “There won’t be anything upstairs.”

  They made careful steps across the lounge area of the pub, and Dicko stopped once he clocked a door with a round window. He pointed at the door and they both made their way over. They weren’t expecting anything when they walked inside. In fact, Dicko was convinced that the pub would be barren of food, and their only hope of supplies would be to scrounge from the scraps that could be available from the houses of the small village. Even if they returned to the camp with a handful of tins, the journey would be worth it.

  Dicko was the first to push open the swing door and peered inside the place. It seemed clear, and he stepped inside with Yoler behind him. The place looked like it had already been ransacked, and as he approached the large refrigerator, he already knew there wasn’t going to be anything edible. He opened the fridge and twisted his nose at the little rotten food that was left inside.

  “Nothing,” he sighed.

  Yoler looked to her side and walked through the water-soaked room from the freezer that had been defrosted.

  “What now?” Yoler huffed. “The cellar?”

  Dicko nodded and they both left the kitchen, now looking for the cellar.

  “There.” Dicko pointed at a wooden door that they never noticed before. It was situated five yards to the right of the main door.

  Dicko walked over to the door and tried the handle, expecting it to be locked. He placed his ear against the door, but could hear nothing. He tried the handle and surprisingly the door opened. His heart sank as the door being open told him that somebody, probably the owner, had already been into the cellar.

  He pushed the door open wider, expecting there to be nothing left, and could see a set of steps and a flat ramp-like incline to the left of the steps, probably used for the transportation of beer barrels, and both were reluctant to go in. The place was pitch black and Dicko looked at Yoler, wanting a reaction.

  “No way in piss am I going down there,” she said.

  “Okay.” Dicko rubbed his head, agreeing with her blunt comment. “We’ll try and find a candle or something.”

  Yoler, with her machete still tucked in her belt, went behind the bar and went through a set of drawers.

  Dicko remained standing by the open cellar door and called over to his female companion, “Anything?”

  “No candle,” she said. “But I found a lighter.”

  “Good. At least that’s something we can take back to the camp.”

  Yoler made her way over and flicked the lighter. It lit straightaway, and she adjusted it to increase the flame. She stepped into the cellar and they could now see inside. Two barrels sat at the left of the room, a huge wine rack was situated across the back wall, and boxes of peanuts and crisps were stacked up to the right of them.

  “Good.” Dicko nodded, slipped the rucksack off his shoulder, and said further, “Not the healthiest of stuff, but looks like we’ll be going back to the camp with two full bags.”

  “Ouch!” Yoler yelled as the flame from the lighter licked her finger.

  “Give it here,” Dicko demanded.

  “I’ll see if there’s a candle in the bar area,” she said.

  She left Dicko alone in the cellar and walked through an alcove to the bar area. She turned a corner and stopped suddenly, revealing a gasp. Her eyes widened and she froze with fear.

  By the bar were a group of Canavars, fifteen in all, and two of them reacted quickly and grabbed a hold of Yoler Sanders before she had chance to pull out her machete.

  She released a yell and head butted one of them that had a hold of her shirt, and she then scrambled away from the bar area. She looked over her shoulder and could see all were behind and unusually quicker than what she had been used to. She took a quick look in the cellar to see Dicko by the wine rack. Should she go in? Leave him in there and flee? She had a second to make a decision and stepped inside the cellar and slammed the door shut, sliding the bolt across.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Dicko yelled.

  “Canavars,” she gasped.

  “How many?”

  She gulped. “Loads.”

  The sound of hands slapping the door occurred and the noise quickly increased.

  “There was more than half a dozen,” Yoler said. “I hope that door holds out.”

  “Me too.”

  “What do we now?”

  Dicko hunched his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Not the answer I was hoping for, Dicky Boy.”

  Dicko, still holding the lighter, told Yoler to fill her bag. She did as she was told and he did the same.

  He turned the lighter off, as it was burning his thumb, and said to Yoler, “We just need to wait until it’s clear. Then we’ll make a run for it.”

  “How do we know when it’s clear?”

  “When the banging stops.”

  “We know how persistent these cunts can be. And what if it never stops?”

  “I don’t wanna think about that right now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Gavin Bertrand looked around the ditch to see if there was any way he could climb out. There were no stray roots to grab hold of and trying to climb it by simply grabbing clumps of dirt was impossible. It took him four attempts to realise this. He had no choice. He had to simply wait, and had no idea how long it would take for Grace to get back to the camp. She couldn’t get lost. It was impossible. They walked in a straight line, almost, and were conscious about heading out too far.

  He wiped his hands on his jeans and looked around the decent sized hole he was stuck in. It was definitely man made, but he had no idea what it was for and if it was created before or after the apocalypse.

  “Come on, Grace.”

  Gavin couldn’t stand still.

  He was pacing the bottom of the ditch nervously and began to think about the other people who used to be in his small community. Apart from Donald, Helen and her son, there were also his sister, Hayley Bertrand, Jason Martins, Harriett Henderson, John Duncan, and brothers Jamie and Gary Monk.

  He placed his hands on his head and could feel a headache coming on. Was it because of the stressful situation he was
in? Or was he just dehydrated?

  He rubbed the top of his scalp as he paced the earth, back and forth, mentally screaming at Grace to hurry up, but he suddenly stopped walking when his ears picked up a sound above him.

  “Shit.”

  The sound was coming from his left side, so he went to the right of the ditch and looked up to get a better view of what was approaching. It was just a rustle of a branch, so it could have been a deer or a badger or ... something.

  The noise had stopped and was then replaced by the sound of dragging feet. He had heard that sound before. The sound of clumsy feet could only mean an exhausted survivor or the dead.

  Gavin remained gazing up, heart slamming his ribcage, and held his breath as the noise stopped. He released a long and slow breath out before taking in another gulp of air, and could hear the dragging sound once more. He had a knife on him, but he still didn’t want to put one of the dead down if he could avoid it.

  A face emerged above him. It was a dead face, and Gavin cursed and took out his knife. The creature shuffled a few more yards and then stopped once it reached the edge of the ditch. It looked down on Gavin and snarled like a creature from prehistoric times. Gavin had never heard anything like it before, and braced himself for an attack. The male was as rotten as anything Gavin had seen and must have turned during the early days of this catastrophe. Its skin was yellow, clothes tattered, and the left side of its skull was exposed, making the Canavar even more chilling to look at.

  It took a step forwards and fell into the ditch with a clump. It was face down and it appeared that it had broken its right leg, but Gavin immediately went over and stuck his knife into the back of its head.

  Once he pulled out his knife, he chuckled, “Well, that was easy enough.”

  More shuffling could be heard and Gavin walked backwards, now with his back against the ditch and waited for the other creature.

  “No more, please. No more.”

  The next Canavar was a female. It approached the ditch and fell straight in, as if it didn’t know it was there. Like the one before, he ran over and stuck his knife into the back of its head before it had time to get up. He pulled out the knife and cussed when the handle was all that he had in his hand. The blade remained in the skull and Gavin desperately tried to pull out the blade. More noises came from above and he began to panic, still trying to prise out the blade, but it was in too deep.