Free Lanherne Chronicles (Prequel): To Escape the Dead by Stephen Charlick Page B

impotently at the walls of the cart had, within the spate of a few minutes, turned into a full-on assault.
    ‘They appear to only be at the back and one side,’ Cam whispered back, the fear in his eyes belittling his calm tone. ‘There’s at least eight out there and we need to deal with this before their calls attract even more…’
    They all knew this was how many of the living finally met their end. Afraid to deal with the Dead until they had to, many left it simply too late. All it would take was one of the Dead to catch sight of the living and they would pound ceaselessly to get to them until the very flesh fell from their bones. Their activity and desperate moaning calls would always attract more of their Dead brethren and so the problem would increase until, by their sheer number, the Dead would prevail.
    ‘Let me help,’ said Fran, unhappy to entrust her life in the hands of these two men she barely knew. ‘Just give me a knife…’
    ‘You’ve nothing on your feet,’ replied Cam, peering at her feet which he could tell had been left blistered and bloody after her flight from the burning Institute the previous night. ‘All it takes is for you to stand on a bit of broken glass or a sharp stone and they’ll be on you…. and anyway, once Vincenzo and I are out there I’m sure Phil and the others will come to help.’
    ‘Fran, please… you will keep Carmella safe for me,’ Vincenzo added, his words a statement rather than a request.
    With her fingers subconsciously reaching down to tentatively trace the series of cuts and burns on the souls of her feet, Fran finally nodded. As much as she wanted to deal with the Dead herself, Cam was right, if she were to stumble it could result in terrifying and deadly consequences.
    ‘OK,’ she said, ‘but if you’re going to do something, do it now…’
    ‘Agreed. Vincenzo, you ready?’ Cam asked, his hand hovering over the bolt on the side hatch.
    ‘Si, Cam,’ he simply replied with a stern nod.
    Giving Carmella’s hand a final squeeze and a kiss before moving as close behind Cam as he could, Vincenzo knew if he was to secure the safety of his wife and unborn child he had no option but to do this.
    ‘Here…’ said Cam, turning to pull a knife from a box under one of the benches and handing it to Fran. ‘Just in case…’
    Fran looked from the large serrated blade in her hand back up into Cam’s clear blue eyes.
    ‘Good luck,’ she replied, holding his gaze.
    Raising his eyebrows and forcing a smile to his lips, Cam turned and silently pulled the bolt across. Almost instantly the inside of the cart was bathed in cool morning light as the two men quietly lowered themselves out onto the road. Fran instinctively moved to the open hatch and pulled it closed, securing the bolt once again.
    ‘It’ll be OK,’ she whispered turning to Carmella, the pregnant woman’s tear filled eyes highlighted by a shard of light coming through one of the spy holes.
    ‘Si,’ she sadly whispered in reply.
    Outside, the moaning of the Dead was enough to chill the strongest of resolves but the two men knew they had no choice; the Dead had to be silenced. Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder, Vincenzo hoped Phil and the others in the second cart were about to join them when Cam suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. Using hand signals, Cam told him they would edge to the end of the cart and grab the first of the Dead. Hopefully if they were quick and quiet they could pull one of the Dead round to their side unseen by any of the others. Well, that was the plan anyway.
    Now that Cam stood ready to pounce, his gaze locked onto a Dead hand that had hooked around the corner merely centimetres from his face, his resolve in the plan began to evaporate. He knew that for every second he waited the chances of the plan working decreased, so with a quick shaky intake of breath, he made a grab for the hand. With Cam’s fingers tightened about the cold cadaver’s