Not Dead Yet: A Zombie Apocalypse Series - Books 1 - 2 Page 7

  “I hate to do it, you see, Major, but my family have hit upon hard times. It’s the family business…terrible times what with us relying on Irish labour…it’s what we do after all and the damned authorities won’t allow any fresh labour out the country, for reasons you understand of course.” I sounded as sorrowful as fully intended, which far from coming from an area of money problems or pity for the plight of the Irish or indeed the family business, instead from a severe pain in my belly which I put down to outright fear, I think I made a pretty good show of it.

  He nursed his stout like it was a baby, a smooth dark liquid going by the name of Guinness that tasted like gold and slid effortlessly down the throat. “Such terrible news, Jack that your family’s in such a fix.” He looked glum and stared into his drink. Funny that even with an ongoing apocalypse, the Irish still managed to mass produce their beer and transport it all the way from Dublin to the other side of the country. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  The man was such that I feared he’d offer to lend me the fiscal, which would make leaving all the harder. I sucked in air. “You know me, Major, if I thought there was any way of being able to stay, to stick it to these demons that are wiping out your people, I’d only be too happy to pursue that avenue. But it’s not simply a question of selling my commission for a sum of money. It’s more about my getting back to England on the first ship, small boat or plank of wood I can charter.” I made a pained expression and noted how his face softened. “It’s my father, you see, he needs my help to run the damned business and I fear that if I don’t get back, the whole ship’ll go down.”

  I’d been half distracted by Dolan’s excellent card dealing hand, practiced and polished like a trooper’s boot and I wondered where he picked up such skills and for what purpose - I knew from the first he was a rogue and now the evidence was beginning to manifest.

  “Oh, it’s a terrible business.” Murphy said, propping up his spectacles. “And of course, everybody already knows you’d much rather be here, sticking it to the dead…why, you’ve nothing to prove on that score.” He swirled the last remnants of Guinness around in his glass. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

  What was the use? I flopped back in my seat, and since it looked like I’d still be needing them, examined the clean washing the major had returned. “The crossbelt could do with a better pressing, if you wouldn’t mind, Major.”

  “Oh, yes of course Captain, here, let me take that.”

  A fast moving outline approached from the doorway and then Captain Lynch was looming down over me, his usual grim look present, with something extra. “Good morning, Major Murphy.” He said flatly before turning his attention to me and slapping a glove clean across my face.

  The noise from a dozen conversations stopped abruptly as my jaw gaped wide open, the right side of my face registering with a sting.

  Major Murphy stood and glared at my assailant. “Captain Lynch, what is the meaning of this?”

  The madman addressed the major without taking his one eye from me. “That, Major, was for the insult. This man had relations with my wife.” His face vibrated with every word. “Which is why I demand satisfaction.”

  Luckily, there was a large table between myself and Lynch and from my position, with my back to the wall and Dolan obstructing, he had no way of dragging me from my seat to physically offload his anger onto me.

  Regardless, my instincts kicked in and I was already judging the distance over the tabletop to the doorway but the damned lunatic was standing full flush in the way. Besides, even if I did manage to escape, I wouldn’t have time to saddle up and make a clean getaway on my horse. No - Foot would have to be the only realistic option and how long would a deserter last on foot against a full regiment of cavalry in open country? It pained me, but I had no option other than to remain seated whilst my knackers shrank within me.

  But I had to do something to calm him down, so feebly, I held my hands up into a placatory gesture. “No, no, no, Captain Lynch, sir, I would never have relations with your wife, I’ve never even met her. Why…how was I to know you were even married? Now, listen here, sir, you never told me anything of the sort and you certainly never introduced us.” Sure, I’d been fornicating my way across much of Londonderry ever since my arrival, but this had to be a mistake.

  “Are you calling me and my wife a liar, you lying filth?” His hand twitched and for a moment I feared he’d draw his pistol, of which he was an old hand.

  I shrunk back against the seat as my heart pounded against my ribs. “No, no, of course not…Major Murphy?” I pleaded. “Oh bigad…”

  “…And that you’d take advantage in her emotional state, whilst I was watching over the bodies of our fallen heroes, you maggot.” His one good eye was bloodshot and puffy, instilling me with a rare terror.

  I glared about the room, silently appealing to any friendly face who may exist. Mercifully, good old Lieutenant Sheehan approached.

  “Now, now, Captain, I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding.” He tried to placate Lynch with a hand on the shoulder. “The Captain says he didn’t have relations with your wife.” Thank God for Sheehan, for sense. “And I’ve been with the captain…fought with him in the woods, remember…he wouldn’t do a thing like this.”

  I breathed and searched my brain for something to say. “See! I was with the lieutenant last night and two ladies he introduced me to. Just ask him, sir.” I pleaded, feeling hope this horrible accusation would go away. At this stage I didn’t even care about receiving an apology. I just wanted Lynch gone.

  Sheehan’s eyebrows dipped as he turned to me. “Ah, Captain…now then…one of the, um, ladies I introduced you to was Mrs Lynch. Weren’t you listening? Please tell me you didn’t do what he says.”

  There it was.

  What to do?

  Again, my eyes flicked toward the door but now there was more than just Lynch blocking the escape route as more and more officers came over to watch the drama - If that option ever existed, it didn’t now.

  “See! You can see it in the filth’s face.” And why Lynch would want the entire regimental officer staff knowing he’d been cuckolded was beyond me. Surely most sane individuals would go about such shameful accusations with a more tactful approach? It was all yet more evidence to the general lacking of reason and prudence around here.

  But why hadn’t I paid attention during the introductions? Why, of all the officers, did it have to be Lynch’s wife?

  For a moment I thought he’d again slap me with the cavalry glove, heavy duty leather if ever any existed, but instead he slammed both fists into the table and leaned forward. “Pistols at dawn, you scum, six in the morning…Creggan Burn Park. Time to see how brave you really are.”

  I leaned forward, concealing my shaking hands beneath the table, trying my hardest to keep the pitch of my voice measured instead of ten tones higher like it tried to gravitate towards. “See sense, man…sir, duelling’s not been legal for nigh on twenty years…you want to see yourself hanged?” It was ridiculous. Surely even this man knew the loser would die and the winner would be executed. It was certain death for us both, and for what?…a barely enjoyable romp with a tramp in a dusty back room.

  “Stop trying to weasel yourself out of this, Strapper. There are places duelling can be got away with. It’ll all be done on the hush hush…no consequences for the winner.” There were murmurs of agreement from those behind the imbecile, who obviously just wanted to see blood, which knowing these people as little as I did, didn’t surprise me one bit. “You wanted to shirk our advance against the dead. Now it looks like you’ll get your chance.”

  He’d just accused me of being a coward and for the life of me, how was it that Lynch was the one man who could see the truth? And I was just about to stand, so that I could throw myself to his feet and commence begging for my life when Sheehan interjected.

  “Now, now, Captain Lynch. You’ve just accused Captain Strapper of dishonour.” Should I
demand satisfaction? “Of all the officers in this room, I am the only one who’s witnessed what this man’s capable of,” and he pointed to me, “and if you’re accusing the captain of dishonour, sir, then you also accuse myself of the same.”

  Lynch turned on Sheehan and spoke in a placatory tone. “Oh, come along, Lieutenant, I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

  “Even so, Captain, I’d prefer it if you retracted and apologised to Captain Strapper for the insinuation of cowardice and dishonour. You may mark my words, sir, that this man is no coward.” Oh, you poor fool, I thought, as I hung back and allowed him to fight my battle for me.

  “I will not!” Lynch shouted, stamping his boot. “And the matter of honour shall be settled at dawn.” He turned his attention to the fat major at my side. “Major Murphy, will you act as my second?”

  He jerked back to life. “Oh, gosh, well, um…I’ve never done it before and…”

  “…Is that a yes or a no, Major?”

  “Oh, ok, that’s a yes.” He said red faced and looked back into his stout.

  “Right then, Captain Strapper…I suggest you find a second to act for you and don’t be late.”

  And at that Captain Lynch strode from the room as I was left to contemplate my death.

  OF COURSE, duelling was prohibited by British law and whilst I was spending considerable time in the mess latrine attempting to deal with my rapidly liquifying bowels, I explored every possible option for using the law against Lynch to have this whole business stopped.

  But the rub was that the law didn’t really exist anymore. Ireland was in a state of chaos and although such situations were usually ones in which lawyers prevailed and grew fat, seeking out such a shyster would only bring with it other problems.

  Not only had I mounted Lynch’s wife, but I’d been accused of cowardice into the bargain, doubtless because the man knew me better than all the others and guessed correctly I’d do anything to avoid a dawn duel with the best marksman in the regiment. Now he’d dishonoured me and to refuse a duel would invite shame upon my person for the rest of my life - Not that I cared overly about that, or of honour and all that tripe or even for the reputation I was slowly building for myself. But if I ever wanted a life within society, with the ladies I was becoming accustomed to, then to refuse the duel would be to admit I lacked honour - Totally true, of course and I’d be the first to admit it.

  I’d even hoped the colonel would put a stop to it, but apparently Sheehan, who’d agreed to be my second, had informed me that Fitzgibbon was all for it and was indeed planning on stopping by to view the spectacle - And this was our esteemed commanding officer. And the word was the colonel was even bringing along the regimental surgeon so everything would be nice and official, if illegal.

  So now it looked like I was out of options and had no choice but to duel against the man.

  But my coward’s mind had been busy, which I find happens whenever my safety is threatened. Which is why I now dined with Captain Dolan at my residence. I plied him with expensive sherry whilst my private chef fussed over him with the best meat cuts in town.

  “I say, Strappy, you are in a bit of a bind. How ever are you managing to stay so cool?”

  I leaned back in the chair and swirled sherry around in my glass. “How’s the sustenance? Aint the beef just exquisite?”

  He leaned forward and studied me. “I say…you’re such a cool hand. If it were I to face a duel with Captain Lynch tomorrow, I hazard I’d be over the walls and lost in the countryside by now…rather face the dead than the captain, so I would.”

  At that moment the beanpole slinked out from around the corner and declared that I was a dead man for sure, and would I not mind stumping up the month’s rent in advance on account of my inevitable death.

  I ordered him away and that if I discovered he was eavesdropping again, I wouldn’t hesitate to take the crop to his backside. He soon disappeared and we didn’t hear from him the rest of the night.

  I stabbed a lump of beef with my fork and pointed it at Dolan before placing it in my mouth. “Awfully sorry about not naming you as my second. I know it’s what you were expecting, but I’d rather hoped Sheehan could talk the colonel into calling a halt to the whole damned sorry business, and with him being more respected around these parts…” he didn’t take it as an insult on account of the quantity of my sherry he’d consumed. “Besides, I had other plans for you my lad…more important plans.”

  I hoped he’d feel special and from the other side of the table where I sat, I was sure I saw his eyes glow in the lantern light.

  “What plans are you talking about, Strappy?”

  There was no point in dithering over the thing and I thought best to just come out with it. “Now, Dolan, you’re a poor man…”

  “…What the devil?”

  I held up a hand. “No, no, let me finish…you’re a poor man and…” I gestured around to the food and the chef who stood idly by waiting for orders, “…and as you can see, I’m not.”

  His ginger head jerked back and the light reflected off his mutton chop sideburns - Rather odd. “What are you getting at? You didn’t invite me here to poke fun at my station surely.”

  “How does twenty thousand pounds sound to you? Enough to purchase three lieutenant colonelcies or else retire to Torquay or wherever you fancy. All you need do is offer to load the pistols, as an independent, you see, and fix the thing so only one gun’s loaded.” I leaned back in my seat and allowed the words to sink in - I knew my man, the rogue, and that this amount of money would be too much turn down.

  “Oh bejeezus…” His forehead pulsed and he gave it a rub. “But Strappy, why me?”

  “I’ve seen the way you deal cards, so don’t tell me you don’t know how to palm a pistol ball.”

  He twitched three or four times. “Oh, yes, I could do it alright. But what if I’m caught? It’d be disgrace for the both of us.”

  Being disgraced was the furthest thing from my thoughts and I wondered if my man had more honour than I’d given him credit for - Not a good thing. “Dolan, the seconds will be busy enough tomorrow trying to talk Lynch out of this madness. You’ll not find much difficulty from those two.”

  “I say, Strappy…this is all quite much.” He sank the remnants from his glass and I clicked my fingers for the chef to refill it.

  “Best not think about all that, but instead what house you’ll buy for yourself and your tramp.”

  That did it and he leaned forward rubbing his hands. “You really think she’d renounce the whore house if I had that kind of money?”

  I slapped the table. “Lieutenant Colonel, I can guarantee it.”

  He beamed his beautiful smile. “Lieutenant Colonel, aye? Oh, Strappy, I could get used to that…maybe find a better regiment down south too.”

  “With that kind of money you could do whatever you wanted.” I’d had a few doubts he’d be game, but I never expected this kind of enthusiasm, but then I knew his buttons and when to press them.

  He rubbed his chin. “But will they allow me to load the pistols? They know you and I go out rogering together.”

  “You’re an officer and a gentleman. Your honour is not at question here, remember.”

  His forehead pulsated again, like the gears were working inside his head. “So I give Lynch the dummy gun, which leaves you with the loaded one, Strappy? It’ll be my head on the block for murder, not yours.”

  “You have nothing to worry about on that score, my friend.” Sure it’d be convenient having Lynch out of the way but I wasn’t the murdering type.

  He nodded, bit his bottom lip, then jumped from his seat like an overly keen puppy. “By God, Strappy, I’ll do it!”

  We shook on it and I at once removed the remaining alcohol from his presence, telling him to be at the park early to offer his assistance.

  After showing him out, I was left alone to consider the chances of my plan not going squint, which nearly drove me insane and at one point I even considered givin
g Maguire a whipping for his insinuation I’d be dead come morning.

  But I left the man be and went to bed instead, only to experience the most dreadful sleepless night of my life which contained visions of Old Tubs laughing as he struck me with the birch and cutting away the flesh from my arse. I had to survive this, if only so I could one day return as a cavalry officer, to show him how it feels, to have him experience the pain of being thrashed to within an inch of your bones.

  Suddenly my prior melancholy was replaced with a new confidence - I would live!

  And then I drifted off to sleep only for the beanpole to rouse me an hour before dawn.

  THERE WERE MORE than merely the regimental officers present at Creggan Burn Park at first light. They weren’t even supposed to know about it, but most of the regimental troopers were there too and a fair number of local nosies to boot, who stood well out of the way. Somewhere amongst them I was sure the colonel would be watching with interest, certain of a foregone conclusion.

  Dolan stood by a table on which rested a brace of pistols next to a bottle of spirits and the surgeon’s bone saws. I daren’t look over in his direction too much from where I stood with Sheehan.

  “Best do the formalities, my friend.” He spoke solemnly and we began walking to the small knot of people in the centre of the field. “I just wanted to say, it’s been a pleasure knowing you, sir.”

  “To the blazes with it, man, I’m not dead yet.” These people already had me eight feet in the cold ground.

  He made a nervous laugh. “I don’t know how you always manage to stay so cool.”

  The truth was that I was so nervous I could barely stand and had foolishly consumed one of Maguire’s breakfasts and subsequently purged it from my body during the walk up, turnips and all. And although I’d done all I could to ensure the right result, I could never be certain nothing would go wrong.