One - The Death Of Sam Berry
On the day before I found Eileen I witnessed Sam Berry walking up Cam Lane, checking the cars as came towards me. I was on the far side of the wall, hidden from Sam’s view, I already possessed a shotgun, indeed I had used it earlier that day to kill Thomas and Margeret Scoresby whom I had been lodging with. Something about Sam’s gait was troubling me, when I first caught sight of him lurching up the lane I thought he had been injured and nearly called out him, but then prudence kicked in and I hid behind the dry stone wall and watched him through the crenels.
Sam staggered from car to car, at each one he fumbled with door until he got it open then thrust his head inside, he peered inside the car for a few moments and then pulled back and moved on to the next vehicle. At a black 4WD Sam couldn’t get entry, the owners must have locked their car and then set off on foot, Sam roared incoherently and slapped the side window, the sound of an angry human voice on the otherwise quiet morning made me nervous. In front of the Subaru was a red Peugot, Sam wrenched open the rear door of the small car and pushed into the back seat, disappearing from my sight. I spent a few nervous minutes wondering what Sam could be up to, checking the field behind me to ensure nothing was creeping upon me, and breaking and checking the shotgun, habit.
When Sam did emerge from the Peugot’s rear seat his face was coated with dark blood, at least I was sure now.
“Hey Sam, “ I called, he looked up and then came shambling towards me, his left leg hanging and dragging with every forward lurch. I raised the shotgun when Sam got within two car lengths of me, then he spoke, his voice was guttural, rough and evil sounding, not anymore the gently accented voice of the bloke I’d met in the Farmer’s Arms a few times.
“They were down there, all away,” he grunted.
I took a step back from the wall, in danger of losing control. Before he spoke I was controlled and about to despatch a flesh eating creature, but hearing him speak threw my mind into a spin.
“What Sam ? What did you say ?” I kept the gun trained on him but I was trembling now, the barrels weaving in small arcs.
Sam stepped right up to wall, his hideous gore coated visage with its blank expression only feet away from me.
“Talk to me Sam, please, come on” I was pleading, desperate, tears of fear squeezing themselves from my ears and blurring my vision. “Just talk to me, tell me you’re alright.”
“They were down there, all away,” he repeated, then he roared and jumped up the wall his hands frantically grabbing at the top stones. I pulled the trigger and the gun barked, and again, Sam’s head blew apart in a red spray, his corpse fell back away from the wall and into the lane. At the gun’s report a pheasant broke from cover near the wall and leapt into panicked flight, crows jumped cawing into the air from the stand of trees opposite. The double echoes bounced and rolled around the valley, I cracked the gun open all the way ejecting the shells smoking onto the grass, with the gun reloaded I looked over the top of the wall. Sam Berry died on Cam Lane on a Tuesday afternoon, I didn’t bury him, there were already too many corpses in the lane for me to bury them all, so I said a short prayer for Sam Berry and turned for home.
Day 4 - 12,760 words written.