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

from the table to help Michael cut up more of the cooked meat for their journey.
    ‘No, there is a school,’ Fran continued, ignoring Sally’s comment, ‘I remember hearing Daniels talking about it with one of the returning scouting parties. They’d gone south-west and been gone ages, a lot longer than usual… in fact he’d written them off. Apparently they’d had to skirt round some raiders or something, that’s what held them up… and then on the way back they came across this boarding school… I remember specifically because Daniels got very interested about there being archers on the walls…’
    ‘Archers?’ mused Charlie, the sound of Tyrone flicking frantically through the Yellow Pages barely registering.
    ‘Hmmm,’ confirmed Fran with a nod. ‘The scouting party warned whoever they were about the raiders but didn’t stick around… their nerves were fried after so long on the road among the Dead… probably just wanted to get back home I guess.’
    ‘South-west… south-west,’ Charlie repeated, looking from one creased map to the next, hoping something would jump out at him.
    ‘Here we are,’ said Tyrone triumphantly. ‘Schools and Universities.’
    ‘How many?’ asked Tom, lifting his bowl to tip the last of his stew into his mouth.
    Liz saw Anne just about to mimic Tom’s action and reaching across, she placed a finger on the edge of the bowl stopping her.
    ‘No,’ she mouthed.
    ‘But…’ Anne began, looking at Tom, who noticing what was happening made a playful but exaggerated show of licking the bowl clean.
    ‘Tom,’ said Liz, trying not to smile. ‘You’re not helping.’
    ‘Well,’ puffed Tyrone after double checking the catchment area covered by the copy of the Yellow Pages they had, ‘if we say this covers approximately a thirty or forty mile radius, which is pushing it for a scouting party, we’re looking at fifty-eight places listed under education.’
    ‘Ignore anything that has primary school, nursery, playgroup or kindergarten in its name,’ said Fran. ‘From what I overheard I got the impression it was a big place…’
    ‘OK,’ mumbled Tyrone, fishing about in his pockets for a pencil.
    ‘Right… so that narrows it down to… seventeen.’ He said once he had finally removed the unlikely options.
    One by one Tyrone read out the addresses for Charlie to find on the map. So far they had found only three possibilities, none of which had rang any bells with Fran, so they continued working their way through the list.
    ‘Erm… Saint Margaret’s High School for Girls?’ he suggested, reading the next on the list.
    ‘Saint Margaret’s?... No, it’s too far north of here,’ replied Charlie, after finding the group of buildings marked on the map, ‘and too close to a town.’
    ‘Well that just leaves Saint Xavier’s Academy, Truro High School for Boys and West Bideford College…’ continued Tyrone, looking up hopefully from the wrinkled directory in his hand.
    ‘Wait!’ cried Fran, ‘Xavier’s! That was it. I’m sure Saint Xavier’s was the school Daniels talked about.’
    ‘Saint Xavier’s?’ asked Tyrone, eagerly ripping free the page to pass to Charlie.
    With those seated about him leaning forward in anticipation, Charlie cast aside one map in front of him to search for another.
    ‘Ah! Here it is… Saint Xavier’s Academy,’ he said, stabbing a finger at a point on the map.
    ‘It’s quite far out,’ he continued, looking over at Fran. ‘Further than I’d have expected a scouting party to travel… but you did say they were gone a long time.’
    ‘Yes, Daniels had been surprised when they finally made their way back,’ she nodded. ‘He thought the Dead had got them.’
    ‘Well this looks like the place then,’ continued Charlie, ‘Saint Xavier’s is about to receive some new guests… let’s hope they’re welcoming.’
    ‘How long?’ asked Liz, her worried eyes flicking from Anne to Carmella.
    ‘About two days if we’re