Killing The Dead (Book 16): Infected

by Murray, Richard

  “The other zombies. The Reapers.”

  “What of them?”

  “They hate her.”

  I gave him my best frown. He was ridiculously vague at times and I had found myself more than once wishing he would just get right to the damned point.

  “Hate her?”

  “Yes. When she was in the cell, they would move to the corner of theirs, as far from her as they could get. Each of them would stare at her for hours and if she moved, they would hiss and growl, their claws scratching at the floors.”

  That was something interesting then. The normal zombies wouldn’t follow her and would probably attack her if they could. Was she a threat to them? I didn’t know, but it bore investigation.

  “Get me that report,” I said and moved past him, back to the main entrance and out to direct the search.

  The truck was waiting outside and I climbed in with the help of my guards. As soon as everyone was in, we set off, back towards the town. The journey back to town was short and we were across the bridge before I realised we were not stopping.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back home, My Lady,” Lisa said in her usual cool, calm, tones.

  “No. Not when that, that… creature is out there.”

  “Forgive us, we cannot allow you to be at risk.”

  I looked at the faceless acolytes, any expression they might have been worn hidden by their hoods and the darkness of the night. There wasn’t much chance I would change their mind. I didn’t even have the advantage of being able to command them as they listened to Ryan and not me.

  “Dammit. Take me to the command centre then. I’ll be safe enough there.”

  “As you command.”

  There was no mockery in her tone as she said that and I crossed my arms and leant my head back against the canvas side of the truck. As I commanded indeed. So long as the commands were ones they’d allow me to make.

  No, that was unfair. If they wouldn’t follow through with a command it was simply because they had another that countermanded it. Like one from Ryan to keep me safe. I could understand that, rationally, but another part of me was just pissed about it.

  I waited with as much patience as I could for the truck to make the short journey. Then waited a little longer as my bodyguards made sure it was safe for me to leave the truck. Only then could I be allowed to walk into the former office building that had become our command centre.

  With the invasion underway, much of the staff had headed off on the ships, leaving just a skeleton crew to watch over the island. They did their job well and the drones had become a familiar sight in the skies above us as they zipped about.

  Since most of the drones were grounded during the night, there were only a couple of technicians seated at their desks and behind them, Minister Shepherd.

  She was the same as always, despite the late hour, with greying hair pulled back in a loose ponytail as she leant in and watched whatever the tech was doing at the terminal. She looked around as I came into the room, sharp-featured face forming a scowl.

  “The hell is going on out there?”

  I could practically feel the acolytes bristle at the sharpness of her tone and I waved them away as I crossed the room towards her. She was no threat to me, I was certain of that, but even so, I didn’t argue as one of the acolytes stayed close.

  “Just the latest in an ever-growing list of problems,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  She gave me a shrewd look and gently took my arm, guiding me away from the techs towards the far side of the room where we couldn’t be heard.

  “How big of a problem?”

  “The infected scientist has escaped. Bit one man and killed one soldier.”

  “Christ!” She glanced over to the staff to ensure her exclamation hadn’t been heard before turning back to me. “How?”

  “Bit the tech who went to feed her. Escaped from the facility because most of the damned guards are off invading the Isle of Man.”

  I couldn’t hide the anger in my tone and it didn’t help that it was directed solely at me. The invasion was my idea, after all, and so the deaths were squarely at my feet.

  “You have people searching?”

  “Samuel and the Dead. We need to do this quietly.”

  “If she’s not caught in a few hours, we’ll have a lot of angry people with questions.”

  “Yeah, I know. Remind me again why we didn’t choose to tell people about what we had up at the research facility.”

  The older woman gave me a considering look and shook her head.

  “None of that now. No feeling sorry for yourself. All of us in the government agreed that we needed time to figure things out.”

  “Yes, well, it looks like we might have just run out of time.”

  Chapter 13

  Breathing heavily, I stepped back and surveyed the carnage. Bodies lay all around and a quick scan of each assured me that I had lost none of my minions. As before, the zombies retreated down the long street.

  Businesses were few and far between, replaced by rows of terraced houses. In the distance, beyond the retreating horde, was a wide area that opened up behind them and I was pretty sure their simple-minded tactic was to catch us there.

  With a shake of my head, I gestured for the minions to follow me and set off once more in pursuit.

  “Answer me, dude!” Charlie’s voice squawked from the radio and I grabbed it with just a touch or irritation.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got hundreds of the fucking things moving up side streets on either side of you. You need to head back or you’ll be surrounded!”

  No real news there. It was what I expected and it didn’t matter. The zombies were under the control of a Reaper and if we retreated, I wasn’t certain they would even bother to follow. No, for that to happen I had to enrage the Reaper.

  How I was going to do it was uncertain, but it was needed, I knew that. Plus, to my advantage was the fact that I tended to enrage everyone.

  The open area turned out to be a park. Lots of wide open space with some kind of play area off on the far side. The usual stuff, see-saws, swings and a large climbing frame. Crouched atop that, was a grey-skinned creature taller than anyone had a right to be.

  A Reaper.

  It flung its head back and howled as we came into view and the horde of zombies that had been retreating before us, stopped and began to advance. I looked back over my shoulder, ignoring the squawking coming from the radio and smiled grimly, pleased that I had been right.

  “My Lord Death, your orders?”

  There was no fear in the voice of the minion who asked that as he stared at the fast approaching horde of undead. I ignored him for the moment and watched them approach, gauging our chances.

  Bone showed through on limbs and torso, rotted flesh finally falling away a year or more after their deaths. Their gait was unnaturally stiff, their arms outstretched as though already reaching for us.

  A soulless moan rose from the thousands of damaged throats and I was pretty sure that was the only sound they could make, rot and decay having stolen their ability to do much more.

  From all sides, they came, crossing the overgrown grass of the park, trampling it into a churned up field of mud. Those moving along the road ahead and behind us were faster by far and the greater threat, or so I judged.

  “Follow me,” I commanded as I set off towards the park and the Reaper. “Stay close and move when I do or stay and die.”

  We hit the approaching zombies as they crossed the park, blades flashing as blood sprayed into the air, blackened and foul of odour. I Knocked aside those grasping arms, weakened as they were, and killing quickly before moving back, my minions following.

  Dozens of the zombies lay dead in the grass, their mindless brethren falling over their bodies in their haste as I led my minions back to the road and the nearest zombies. Behind us, another howl rent the air.

  Again, we hit the lead zombies, moving fast and killing a fe
w before moving away, faster than they could move. They shuffled after us, angry moans filling the air.

  A savage grin crossed my face as I hit the third mass of zombies, smashing through their first ranks and cutting them down without pause. A minion fell, blade lashing out even as three zombies tore at his flesh.

  I ignored him, pulling away from the horde and heading back towards the road. Another minion went down with a cry that was cut off as she was swarmed by the undead.

  Without looking back, I raced up the road towards the approaching zombies that had sought to cut off our escape. A handful of Ferals led them, racing ahead of the main horde and I wore a rictus grin as I raised my blades.

  The first leapt the last few feet, colliding with a minion that went down in a tangle of limbs from the force of the blow. The other Ferals followed suit, jumping at us.

  My long-knife sank almost to the hilt in the skull of a Feral that was clawing at a minions leather jacket. I slammed my elbow into the nose of another that came at me and followed that by thrusting my short-knife blade into its open eye socket.

  A quick look around to make sure all the Ferals were dead and then the main wave of Shamblers hit us. Time slowed to a crawl as my focus narrowed. The minions, the horde approaching our rear, all fell away as I focused on one thing and one thing only. Killing the undead.

  Their numbers seemed endless, their hunger bottomless. They died one after another. I stepped on and over their bodies as I kept up the killing pace. Using knives and fists, elbows and booted feet. Kicking, punching, stabbing, thrusting, always moving, every blow made with the intention of killing.

  I was in my element. At no other time did life make sense. Only when I killed was I truly alive. Only when I was in the midst of the chaos and the carnage could I truly appreciate the world around me.

  A laugh escaped me, bubbling up from deep inside where the darkness waited with an insatiable hunger that matched that of the undead. Though where they hungered for flesh, I craved death itself.

  Suddenly, there was no zombie in front of me and I almost stumbled, glancing back to see the remnants of my minions pushing through the crowd behind me. I didn’t bother to count them, in truth, I didn’t care.

  They existed to kill the undead and that was all. If they died in that purpose, then their deaths had more meaning than their lives had.

  There were more zombies moving up the side roads towards us and behind us, the writhing mass of Shamblers and somewhere, in their midst, the Reaper. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it’s anger in every roar it gave, issuing its own guttural orders to its army of the undead.

  I laughed again, my joy filling the air as I raised a bloodstained knife in mocking salute to that approaching army. Then I ran on, back up the street, leaving those coming from the side streets to join the main horde as it followed us towards the bridge.

  A Feral leapt from its hiding place beside the wall that ran around the outside of the bakery. A muffled cry of a minion was the first warning we had as claw-like hands tore through his clothing and into the flesh beneath.

  More of the Ferals clambered over the wall, greying skin and blackened claws, white soulless eyes and broken teeth. They hungered for us and without a sound, my minions met them with bloody blades.

  One leapt at me and collapsed at my feet as a bullet entered its skull. I glanced over towards the bridge and guessed that Erin was watching over me. I flashed a grin her way and turned back to the next zombie.

  The fight was short, though not without cost in lives and in time as the horde drew closer to us. We left our dead, there on the road, surrounded by the corpses of the Ferals. The horde would pause briefly to tear them apart, and it would buy us a few more seconds.

  Onwards we ran, the bridge coming into view. My breath was coming in gasps as the exertion of the fight and constant movement wore on me. The adrenaline that had flooded my system had begun to fade too and weariness dragged at me.

  I pushed down my paranoia, not having the energy to leap and clamber up onto the container. I ran straight inside, dropping low and sliding beneath those fearsome steel teeth. Hands reached for me and hauled me upright.

  “Stupidest fucking clever bastard that I ever met,” Isaac said with a grunt. “Lost half your people.”

  “They aren’t lost,” I replied with a grin that no doubt looked gruesome as covered with blood and gore as I was. “I know exactly where they are.”

  “Aye, fucking dead. Poor bastards.”

  “Incoming!” one of the soldiers called out and Isaac pulled me away.

  They came across the bridge in a rush, eager to reach their quarry, the taste of flesh on their lips. A howl sounded from somewhere in their midst, a warning perhaps, but one that went unheeded as the horde caught the sound of the engines starting up.

  The first of them were torn apart, blood and gobbets of flesh flying into the air as they walked straight into the steel teeth of the meat grinders. Flesh and bone alike being torn apart by the powerful machines.

  Onwards they came, marching straight to their deaths. The stench was vile as the contents of their intestines that had been rotting in their bodies since they died, were sprayed into the air.

  Isaac stepped back, pulling me with him, a grimace of disgust on his face as a nearby soldier gagged at the stench.

  CDF troopers, with rags over their mouth and nose and protective goggles over their eyes, used rakes and shovels to clear the ground up zombies. Hundreds died, walking into those traps before the first engine began to whine.

  “Too many,” Isaac muttered. “Workings are getting stuck.”

  I shrugged at that. The machines had worked well enough and thinned the horde. A command was called out and all along the road, marines rose up from their hiding place behind the walls, assault rifles in hand, and opened fire.

  They took their time, shots placed with care and the zombies kept on dying. More CDF troopers came running up, forming ranks behind the meat grinders. The steel bucklers they carried on one arm were held out before them and their poignards raised.

  Another command and my engineer minion did something with the meatgrinders, allowing the zombies through. They came straight into those massed ranks and died. I laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “The hell’s wrong with you, Clever Bastard?”

  “Been a good day.”

  “You lost about fifteen people if I were to judge. How the hell’s that a good day?”

  “Fifteen for thousands of the undead. That’s a good exchange,” I said with a grin. “This is just the start. Tens of thousands more of these things all over the island. It’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

  The large mercenaries face twisted in disgust but he wisely chose not to reply, leaving me to enjoy the slaughter of the undead in peace.

  Chapter 14

  When morning came I was still standing in the command centre, watching over the shoulder of a tech as the drone she was controlling flew through the town. The camera it carried was of decent quality and even in the dull morning light, I could see plenty of people staring up in confusion.

  “Anything?” Cass asked dully as she came over to join me, smothering a yawn with one clenched fist.

  “Not yet.”

  “Christ! You’d think someone would have found her by now.”

  I couldn’t disagree with that line of thought. We’d quickly roused a number of key people throughout the night and enlisted them to help in the search. All to little avail it seemed as Briony had gone into hiding.

  “There’s only so many bloody places she could be,” I muttered as I chewed on a fingernail, a nervous habit that I’d successfully managed to cure myself off, or at least so I’d thought. “I mean, it’s not like she can be knocking on someone’s door, is it?”

  Cass gently pulled my hand away from my mouth and gave me her sternest look. It was one she must have been practising for when her daughter was a little older and getting into trouble. She did it well.

  “
Don’t bite your fingernails. Nasty habit at the best of times and even more so now.”

  “I know.”

  My eyes burned with tiredness and my back ached but I couldn’t give up. We’d not found any more bodies, which was good news at least, though a nasty little part of my mind kept trying to suggest that was because anyone she killed had been turned.

  But that wasn’t likely. Which is something I’d been repeating throughout the night. If anyone had died, we’d have found blood. There’d have been someone looking or some noise, something to tell us what had happened.

  No, it was most likely that she had eaten enough flesh to sate her immediate hunger and regained enough control to go into hiding, likely fearing our response. Even if that were what happened though, sooner rather than later, she’d be hungry again.

  “Do you think we can keep this quiet?” Cass asked and I shook my head, hand reaching up to sweep hair badly in need of a wash from my face.

  “Too late for that. Far too many people know about her already.”

  I trusted the soldiers and the techs with the defence of the island, but they were still people and people loved to gossip.

  “Ma’am,” a tech called out and I turned to look at her wearily.

  “You have something?”

  “There’s a, a house.”

  I stared at her and blinked stupidly at her as it took far too long for my tired brain to catch up with what she had just said and even longer to understand what it likely meant.

  “Oh, God!” I rushed across to her, Cass following close behind.

  The house sat at the end of a private road at the far north of town. It had no doubt once been rather expensive because of the privacy and the view of the open fields to the north. It was a fair size and likely housed several people.

  Grey slate tiles made up the roof and a large hedge surrounded it, offering yet more privacy. The gardens to front and back were overgrown with plenty of places to hide or approach without being seen in the darkness.

  As the drone hovered high above the house, high enough that it wouldn’t spook Briony, the camera mounted beneath it was directed at the rear door, that hung open. What looked to be an arm stuck out, twitching and jerking as though something was pulling at it from inside.