Six Days With the Dead by Stephen Charlick Read Free Book Online

Michael on the other hand carried a crow bar in each hand and when the Dead attacked these would smash skulls with deadly speed.
    ‘ No, it’s been pretty quiet really,’ Alice told him, ‘Anyway, it’s all yours now, so we’re off.’
    Alice a nd Liz said their goodbyes, climbed down the ladder and began walking through the garden back to the Convent doorway. Running round the corner at top speed, shrieking as she ran, came Anne. Following mere seconds later, was Justin covered in mud and straw. Justin was only ten and as he and Anne were the only children at the convent they fought like brother and sister.
    ‘ Hey what’s the hurry?’ She asked, grabbing Anne as she almost ran into her.
    Hiding behind her sister, Anne peeked out at Justin , who had skidded to a breathless halt.
    ‘ What? I haven’t done anything.’ She said, giggling between rapid breaths.
    ‘ Yes you did, you threw a bucket of chicken poo at me, you fat head.’ Justin shouted, stamping is foot.
    Justin was small for his age, but then growing up in a world without regular meals would do that to a child. With Justin’s slim frame, wild sandy brown hair and large doe like eyes he had a fragile look about him, which the boy did all he could to dispel. Acting tough and putting on a brave face even when it was clear he was hurting.
    Justin was only three when the Dead rose , so he was too young to remember what normal life had been like. For Justin and Anne, this was all they had ever really known. Justin had never known his mother and father, as they had died early on in the war and had been brought up by his uncle Mark. He had loved and idolised his uncle and when Uncle Mark didn’t come back one day to their hiding place, his world fell apart. Justin didn’t know what had actually happened to his uncle but he knew deep down he would never see him again. When the refugee convoy rolled past one day he so desperately wanted to join them but was scared. He had followed at a distance trying to stay out of sight for hours. Until, out from behind a tree a man had stepped. Holding out his hand the man had just said ‘wouldn’t you prefer to ride in the wagon’ and the seven year old Justin had fallen into his arms sobbing, the relief of finding a friendly adult too much for him to bare. The man had gathered him up in protective arms, stroking his hair while hushing his tears. The man was called Rich and he and his wife, Nicky had taken care of Justin ever since. He was the child they had lost in those first few days. They were the loving uncle who just never came home. Rich and Nicky loved him as a son and he loved them as parents.
    ‘ What are you two up to now?’ Alice asked, with her hands on her hips.
    ‘ He started it.’ Anne whined.
    ‘ I don’t care who started it,’ Liz interrupted, ‘you don’t go throwing chicken poo at people, Anne.’ She said giving her a secret wink, ‘Now apologize to Justin.’
    Anne mumbled a weak apology, looking at her feet.
    ‘Girls!’ Justin exclaimed and stomped off trying to look as much like the man he so desperately wanted to be.
    The image slightly belittl ed by the straw and chicken droppings randomly falling to floor. As Liz watched him leave, she realised that with Justin being the only boy here anyway near Anne’s age, they would probably end up together when they got older. She hoped they both survived that long, she didn’t like to think of her younger sister never knowing the type of joy that she shared with Imran.
    ‘ Have you done your jobs?’ Liz asked, looking down at Anne’s smudged dirty face, ‘Well obviously you’ve cleaned out the chickens, sort of.’ she continued picking a stray piece of straw from her sister’s hair. A cheeky grin crept across Anne’s face.
    The two children had been put in charge of looking after the goats and chickens. Sister Catherine had shown them how to collect the eggs without ge tting their hands pecked to pieces and how to milk and care for