Ghoul: The Beginning Read online

  GHOUL

  The Beginning

  Kelvin V.A Allison & Lisa Hutchinson

  Copyright ©Kelvin Mills and Lisa Hutchinson

  2020 All rights reserved

  This edition published in 2020 by

  Paranoid*Pigeon Publications.

  This novel is purely fictional and any resemblance

  to people living or deceased

  is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or

  transmitted, in any form or by any means,

  without permission of the author.

  This novel is dedicated to Louise, Nathaniel,

  Frankie and Rahne.

  Special thanks to Louise Chapplow

  and Jess Collom for proof reading

  and keeping us on track, and to

  Andy Hardy; our military

  and weapons advisor

  Chapter One

  Sighing heavily, Lauren raised her cup of coffee to her lips, drinking deeply she turned to look out of the window of the hospital restaurant, eyes widening slightly as she studied the fledgling city of Thames with a critical eye.

  It was hard to believe that a year ago this place hadn’t even existed, yet now with London, Leeds, Birmingham and Manchester decimated by the virus that had ravaged the entire world for nearly two years, plans had been drawn up, and the survivors from each relocated to one of the four new smaller cities that had been built to house them, spread around the country, Thames being twenty miles south west of Darlington beside the North Pennines, halfway between the small towns of Barnard Castle and Richmond.

  The world was back to normal.

  No, that wasn’t quite true.

  It had been six months since the world-wide lockdowns had been lifted and although societies across the globe had gradually taken their tentative steps back towards what had been, things were never going to be back to normal.

  Six months.

  Lauren shook her head, sighing heavily as she turned her face, staring across the city in the direction of the small house she had been given, part of the deal to entice nurses to move to the new cities and take up positions in the hospitals.

  It was home but it was nothing like the home that she had shared with Juliet back down in Leeds.

  Juliet.

  She blinked as she pictured her fiancée, a shaky breath escaping her as the image changed to that of her at the end, frail and gasping, fighting to draw breath, and she turned away from the window, a finger sliding behind each of her glasses lens in turn, wiping tears from her eyes.

  It seemed a lifetime ago now.

  Yet as she turned her head, a hand rising to brush away a lock of her shoulder-length copper hair that had swung before her face, her gaze drifting over the occupants of the hospital restaurant, she knew that everyone had suffered in some way.

  She could see it in their eyes, and on their faces.

  They were all survivors. Every one of them.

  She turned as raised voices suddenly sounded on the far side of the restaurant, her eyes narrowing as she studied the security guard that stood in the queue, his bald head shaking as he slammed his money down on the counter, muttered something at the shocked woman behind it then turned to swagger away, a pack of sandwiches in one hand and a carton of coffee in the other.

  As the security guard walked, he turned his gaze slowly about the restaurant, a scowl of superiority upon his bearded features, an overweight lion holding court over a savanna filled with geriatric antelopes and infirm gazelles.

  As she studied him his eyes flicked upon her, and he arched an eyebrow in challenge, seemingly amused that someone would dare to meet his gaze, and despite her best efforts she looked quickly away, staring down at her coffee.

  Lauren glanced back as there was a grunted curse, concern touching her as she found the security guard standing glaring at a woman nearly half his size who was apparently trying to pass him by in the same aisle between tables.

  Frowning, Lauren allowed her gaze to drift over the woman, noticing that she was not one of the staff and didn’t look like a patient. A visitor then. The young nurse chewed the inside of her cheek as she studied the other woman putting her in her mid-twenties, her non-descript shoulder-length brunette hair contrasting the leather jacket that she wore over tight jeans and black Dr Marten boots, then glanced away only to look back quickly as the security guard spoke again.

  “Watch where you are bloody going, woman” the large guard shook his head, his voice lowered to a threatening hiss so that only his potential victim could hear, but seated close as she was, Lauren heard it all, anger coursing through her.

  On instinct she made to speak, her refusal to stand up for herself mocked by her sudden desire to defend a stranger, only to stop as the woman met her gaze and gave her a tight-lipped smile, and a barely perceptible shake of her head.

  Lauren winced, smiling sadly back and nodded.

  She knew that smile of resignation well.

  She had worn it herself growing up and still took it out and brushed it off occasionally to wear.

  It was the mask of least resistance.

  I will be OK. Just let it go.

  I do not want any trouble.

  Please don’t make it worse.

  Her free hand forming a fist beneath the table, Lauren watched as the overweight security guard shook his head once more, grumbled, then noisily pushed two chairs out of the way before walking off, casting the stranger another glare as he went.

  Sighing heavily, the woman nodded as if to herself and continued onwards to the queue for the food, Lauren watching with interest as she collected a tray and joined those waiting already.

  Grimacing as she turned to glance at the security guard as he sat at a table at the rear of the restaurant, Lauren shook her head, a sudden anger coursing through her at his existence.

  Why couldn’t a man like that have caught the Red Banshee and died, instead of her Juliet?

  Turning away from the guard, Lauren’s eyes settled upon a couple that were seated a couple of tables away from her, a slender black woman with short hair almost to the scalp, and a tall, red faced man with ginger hair and a beak-like nose, she dressed in a tye-dyed strappy dress that left her shoulders and neck bare and he in a white shirt-sleeved shirt and a pair of black trousers.

  As she studied them, the man began to shake his head, a long finger jabbing down at the table, features twisted into a sneer as he spoke to the woman opposite him, her features wincing slightly before she nodded, and glanced away.

  “Hey, I’m talking” the man’s voice was suddenly audible as he reached out, clicking his fingers right in front of the woman’s eyes, and Lauren flinched internally as the woman cringed, her shoulders dipping as she turned back to the man.

  “I’m sorry, Peter”

  The man gave a smug grin, reaching over to take the woman’s hands in his own as he kissed them, and as Lauren watched, the black woman smiled back, but the light didn’t reach her almond eyes.

  “No drink”

  Lauren flinched and glanced round, forcing a smile as she met the gaze of the young black man that sat on the other side of the table from her, a puzzled look upon his features as he suddenly rattled his cup, the ice within loud in the silence of the restaurant. For a moment, she let her gaze drift over her charge, taking in the black and white tracksuit that he was wearing, and the red chunky earphones that hung about his neck, then met his gaze once more, smiling, “Have you drunk it all, Brandon?”

  As if in answer, he gave the cup another rattle and she winced, glancing about as she reached over the table to take the cup from him, and place it back down upon the table surface be
tween them, “Would you like me to get you another?”

  “You look like my sister” he frowned, then gave a broad smile, “But she is black like me, not white”

  “Oh” Lauren gave a genuine laugh, “OK cool”

  “Yeah” Brandon gave a sigh, a look of infinite sadness creeping onto his features as he shook his head, “She doesn’t come and see me no more, or mum and dad…I think they don’t know where I am…maybe I should write them a letter”

  Lauren felt her throat catch at his words, her stomach lurching in dread as she recalled what she had been told about her charge for the day where she was based in the Learning Disabilities Department of Thames Hospital. He was the sole survivor of his family, formerly of London, and lived upon the ward with three other patients, his autism and processing deficits making him unable to care for himself, despite being Laurens senior by six years at twenty five years of age.

  Once more, she glanced back at the security guard, this time mentally trading the man’s life for one of Brandon’s parents or even his sister.

  Hey, maybe throw the ginger Peter into the deal and save a couple of Brandon’s family instead.

  “Do you mind if I sit here?” Lauren glanced around as a voice spoke, a smile creasing her features as she found an old woman standing several feet away, a tray in her hands as she smiled at the young nurse and nodded to the table beside them, “Could I sit here?”

  Blinking, Lauren glanced at the table and then back at the woman, shrugging as she smiled back at her, “Sure, no-one is sitting there”

  “Oh, I know” the elderly woman gave a soft chuckle, throwing Lauren a wink as she took a step closer, “But after you know what…some people still don’t like others too close to them”

  “Oh, I’m fine” Lauren nodded in understanding, then smiled again, glancing at Brandon over the table, “You don’t mind if this lady sits near us do you, do you?”

  “Does she know my mum?” Brandon frowned at her, then shrugged and went back to staring down at the book that he had bought with him.

  Smiling, Lauren nodded at the old lady, “Go on”

  “Thank you” the elderly woman nodded as she placed her tray down, and took a seat at the table, her eyes drifting to Brandon, “And thank you young man, I don’t know your mum but I am sure she is very proud to have a son like you”

  As Lauren raised her coffee cup to her lips once more, Brandon gave a broad smile at the old woman’s words then nodded as he pointed down at his book with a finger, “Did you know rabbits have sex three times a day?”

  As Lauren spluttered into her coffee, the old woman nodded sagely and gave a chuckle, winking at the nurse, “Thank God someone is”

  Chapter Two

  As the old lady began to unwrap her sandwiches with shaky hands, Lauren turned away, suddenly feeling as if she were intruding, a hand raising her coffee to her lips once more as she turned to gaze back out of the window at the city beyond.

  For several minutes she lost herself in the calm, enjoying the warmth of the sun through the floor to ceiling window beside the table where she was seated with Brandon, one of the set which made the Southern wall of the hospitals restaurant.

  “Where are you from originally, dear?” the voice of the elderly lady made Lauren turn back to meet her gaze, smiling as she found the other watching her, a cup of tea held in both her hands.

  The young nurse paused as she was about to reply, her brow furrowing as she noticed the woman that the security guard had nearly collided with hurrying away from the counter, her head down, a tissue dabbing at her eyes.

  Mesmerised by the strangers actions, Lauren watched the woman until she had exited the restaurant and then turned back to the old woman, head shaking in apology, “Sorry, I am from Leeds originally, I moved here after…”

  Her words trailed off and she winced, not wanting to voice aloud what had happened, to make it real with her words, and on the other table the old woman smiled in understanding.

  “Who did you lose?”

  “Juliet…my fiancé” the nurse nodded, her voice monotone as she held the gaze of the much older woman, stunned that she was being so open.

  “Oh” the old woman nodded, head shaking slightly as she sighed, “It took my George too”

  Strangers united in a common grief.

  “I’m sorry!” Lauren winced, hating how paper-thin and meaningless her words sounded, nearly two years of commiserating with others on an almost daily basis having given the once heartfelt emotion a depth of the mundane and ordinary.

  The old woman smiled nevertheless, her head bobbing, “I’m Mary Kent, from London…you can probably tell by the accent…the amount of people who say I sound like I’m off EastEnders!”

  She finished her sentence with a dramatic roll of her eyes and Lauren chuckled in amusement.

  “Hi, I’m Lauren…Lauren Teacher”

  Mary took a sip from her tea, and then glanced about before meeting her gaze again, nodding as she suddenly seemed to notice the pale green trouser and tunic uniform that Lauren was wearing, “Work here do you, luv?”

  “I do” the young nurse nodded, smiling, “Brandon here is living at the hospital, since moving up from London, and I am his care worker for today”

  Mary nodded, casting a glance at Brandon as she chuckled, “London eh? Which part, son?”

  Lauren turned, watching as the young black man looked up from his book, a finger rising to tap repeatedly at his ear as he frowned, and she reached out, placing a hand upon his other, her voice soft, “Hey its OK, Mary is just being curious”

  “B…Bermond…sey” he nodded, eyes downcast as he turned in the direction of the old woman,

  refusing to meet her gaze, “But I live here now”

  “Oh I see, Bermondsey eh, a South of the river boy” Mary gave a chuckle, jerking a thumb at herself, “Northumberland Park for me, North London, I’m a Spurs girl ain’t I”

  Brandon frowned, “I don’t like football”

  “Must be an arsenal fan are you” Mary grinned.

  “No” the young man shook his head, not understanding the joke, “I said I don’t like football. My dad does though…him and my mum and my sister don’t come and see me…I am going to write them a letter so they know where I am”

  Mary winced at his words, glancing over at Lauren, and the young nurse nodded in answer.

  “All of them?” Mary mouthed and once more Lauren nodded, emotion coursing through her as she saw the sudden grief register upon the old woman’s face as she looked back at Brandon, her head shaking, “Oh you poor boy”

  But Brandon was already back studying his book intently, and smiling, Lauren met the gaze of Mary and nodded, “Thank you”

  The old woman smiled as she placed her cup of tea down, her wrinkled hands sliding onto the surface of the white table either side of it as she gave a sigh, nodding at the nurse, “We’ve all been through it haven’t we…if we are honest”

  The young nurse nodded and Mary grimaced suddenly, “How many did we lose in the end?”

  “In England?” Lauren winced, “Eight million, three hundred and twenty-one thousand, four hundred and fifty-seven”

  Mary studied her for a moment, a sad smile upon her features, “That is very precise my dear”

  Lauren nodded, “I know, but Juliet was one of them, so was your George…every single digit of that figure mattered, we can’t forget them”

  There was a heavy drawn out silence as the old woman held her gaze, nodding silently then glanced at Brandon and then back at her, a sad smile on her features, “We won’t forget them”

  Lauren nodded, shrugging, “Still, it might have been more if the antidote hadn’t been found”

  Mary made a face at her words, a hand waving dismissively, “Bah, I hold no stock in that”

  “What?” Lauren blinked, her stomach knotting.

  “The antidote” Mary continued, her eyes focused upon her sandwich as she broke a tiny piece off and placed it in he
r mouth, chewing for a moment before she shrugged, “I didn’t have it”

  Lauren flinched internally as the words of the old woman registered with her, the fear of the past two years resurfacing in a rush and it was only with supreme effort that she avoided letting her sudden fear show upon her features, yet the old woman chuckled nevertheless, “Don’t worry dear, I have been tested, I don’t have it…no-one does now do they…but I didn’t take the antidote”

  “Why?” Lauren’s voice was tight with barely controlled anger as an image of Juliet returned to her, a victim of the virus just a month before the antidote had been discovered in America.

  The old woman studied her in silence for a moment, her lips twisted tight together and then she gave a shrug, her voice thick with emotion, “I wanted to die…I belong with George, only he’s not here is he, dear?”

  Lauren winced, recognising the mindset of the old woman as one she herself had experienced.

  The sudden burning desire to give up and die.

  But she hadn’t and neither had Mary.

  Feeling a sudden kindred spirit with the stranger, Lauren shrugged, “Well, we made it through, the first wave and the worst second wave…we lived”

  “We did” the old lady nodded, then gestured to the large window, chuckling as she spoke, “And we ended up here…Thames…lovely”

  “It comes in threes” the voice of Brandon had both women turning to study the young man as he stared down at his book, not paying attention to them but joining their conversation, “Mum says it always comes in three’s…always”

  Grimacing, Lauren raised her eyes to meet that of the old lady and then chuckled as Mary threw her a grim smile, “I fucking hope not”

  They both flinched suddenly as the sudden squeal of chair legs upon the restaurant floor sounded at the back off the room, and half-turning in her chair, she watched as the security guard rose to his feet, a two-way radio raised to his ear, his voice loud and disgruntled, “Well, I was having my lunch…what is it…down in A&E?”

  There was a silence as he scowled at whatever was being said to him, and frowning, Lauren glanced at Mary to find that the old woman was also listening intently as the man began to speak once more, “Can’t Barry handle it…typical…you owe me lunch tomorrow…yeah…I’m on my way!”