Killing The Dead (Book 16): Infected

by Murray, Richard

  Chapter 16

  The council chamber was in chaos. My bodyguards drew a little closer as Shepherd slammed her open hand on the polished wooden desk before her while shouting for quiet. Cass and Minister Jones shared a look as I watched the braying crowd, knowing that they needed to let off a little steam before they would truly settle down.

  Members of all the various factions were in attendance, along with representatives for each of the smaller villages that dotted the island. Everyone was wanting to be heard and all at the same time or so it seemed.

  No one noticed the chamber doors opening or the arrival or Samuel at the head of a full fist of his acolytes. He stood, staring about as those black-garbed warriors closed the doors. His eyes met mine for just a moment before he spoke.

  “Silence!”

  His voice filled the room, seeming louder than those around him and more than one face turned towards him, angry words lost as they realised who had spoken. I hid my smile as the silence seemed to spread out from around him, like a stone dropped into a still pool, the ripples spreading.

  “My Lady.” His voice resonated with respect as he bowed low. “I apologise for disturbing your meeting.”

  “No apologies necessary.” I caught sight of Cass from the corner of my eye as she smiled and turned her head away, amused by the theatrics. “Please, take your seat with the other members of the government.”

  “This is wrong!”

  A tall woman with angular features was the one who had spoken, casting her words at me as she stared with eyes that glinted with malice.

  “That you have a cultist sitting with you while those who follow God are forced to beg for your time is-“

  “Neither the time nor the place,” I said quietly, cutting her off. “You can bring that up in the next meeting. For now, we have other matters to discuss.”

  “That we have.” She sneered as she said it and I knew I was about to raked over the coals.

  “Now please, ladies and gentlemen, take a seat and we will begin.”

  Samuel marched up the aisle between the chairs that had been set out for the twenty-odd representatives, eyes hooded and head high as he ignored them all completely. He seated himself beside Minister Jones and I readied myself.

  “You all have questions. We will answer them but we will have order. Is that understood?”

  A few half-hearted murmured ‘ayes’ was perhaps the best I could hope for, I reasoned, and so began in earnest.

  “During the night, an infected researcher by the name of Briony Wilson escaped containment and is currently missing.”

  I waited pointedly for the murmuring caused by that statement, to subside and then continued.

  “A technician, two CDF soldiers and five civilians have been killed.” I cringed even as I said it, expecting the explosion of anger that followed but still caught off guard.

  “Where is this infected woman now?” I looked over at the fair-haired representative for three villages to the far south of the island as her voice cut over the rest.

  “Her whereabouts are not known,” Shepherd said loudly. “But we are searching for her now.”

  “How did this happen?” Miss Morris, the religious group's leader demanded.

  “A mistake,” I replied. “Simply that.”

  “That’s the best you can do?” She said with a sneer. “People have died and all you can say is it’s a mistake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why was this infected woman even here, and infected with what?” Miss Morris looked around at the other representatives for support. “Why were we not warned?”

  All valid questions and ones that should have been easy to answer. As I looked out over the room, seeing the anger in those faces, the fear. I knew I had failed. And how could I answer that?

  “The government decided that it would cause panic,” Shepherd said when I didn’t immediately speak.

  “Rightfully so,” Miss Morris snapped. “We want answers.”

  “The people we brought back to the island two weeks ago,” I said loudly, my voice carrying across the noise of the people there. “They had been hidden away since before the world fell. Their goal, to create a vaccine to protect us.”

  I had all of their attention then. Shepherd was watching me stony-faced and Cass reached out a hand to grasp mine in support.

  “The first test of the vaccine created Briony. A woman, not a zombie but not alive. She has their hunger, but retains her mind.”

  “A superior zombie then,” Miss Morris scoffed. “That is all they have managed to do? Create a better zombie than the ones that have depopulated most of the world.”

  “No. They have brought hope.” She sneered at that but didn’t immediately speak. “The work continues and they are confident they are close. A chance for everyone to be able to sleep at night without worrying that a family member will die and turn as they sleep. The hope that our children won’t be devoured by their parents.”

  “All well and good, ma’am,” the representative for two villages on the east coast said respectfully. He nodded when I turned to face him. “But what about this one that is loose? That is what we must fear now.”

  “We will find her.” It was Samuel who answered, his voice and icy stare cutting off most people’s urge to reply.

  “The search will be ongoing. Until we find her, we need your help,” I said quickly, taking advantage of the momentary quiet. “Warn your people to stay indoors, to watch for anything suspicious and to raise a warning if they see something.”

  “We will have every available soldier and acolyte of the Dead, out patrolling to keep people safe.”

  “Can you guarantee that?” another representative asked.

  “I can guarantee that we will try. But no more than that.”

  “Not good enough.”

  I held back a sigh as the religious nut spoke again. She rose to her feet, chin lifted haughtily as she looked around at the gathered people.

  “We didn’t vote for this woman to lead us! She took power and it’s been one disaster after another! Isn’t it time that we had a vote for someone new?”

  I held my breath, waiting for the response. I’d known that question was coming but hadn’t expected it so soon. With the few troops we had left, there was no way I could maintain control if everyone turned against me and the people in the room must have known that.

  “No.”

  It was the fisherman’s representative that spoke. His voice was deep and rough, far more used to having his words shouted across the deck than spoken in a council chamber. His skin was weathered, his hair grey and I knew he had the respect of the captains in our fishing fleet. A man worth listening to and others knew that too.

  “Wasn’t her fault when the zombies came, crawling out of the sea. Nae, not her fault but she and these other ministers held them back.”

  He looked around the room, meeting the gazes of the others with his own, unflinching.

  “We have food in our bellies and, for the most part, we be safe. When danger comes, these fine folk are on the front lines, fighting for us, fighting for our families. The last lot didnae do that.”

  “True enough,” the medical representative called out and was echoed by several others.

  “As we sit here and argue. Thousands of our people are risking their lives to get us a place to live safe. A place we can grow crops and feed our families,” the fisherman’s rep continued. “I’ve no need to vote for no one else. These lot be doing fine.”

  “People are dead!” Miss Morris said, her voice a shriek.

  “Aye. That they are but more are alive. My lads and lasses, they go out on their boats to bring food for the island. They do it knowing their families are safe here. They were here when the last government let loose the undead in the streets. They was here when that one,” he pointed at me with his chin. “When she fought them and saved our people. I’ll not vote for another and any who wants to can do without our fish.”

  That was a ri
nging endorsement and a hell of a threat added on too, I thought. He’d essentially thrown the support of the fishing fleet behind me and since they produced the majority of the food we lived off, that was powerful support indeed.

  “The CDF and the navy support her,” one of the soldiers guarding the doors offered loudly.

  “Aye, the hospital staff too.”

  “The Dead stand with her,” Samuel intoned.

  Miss Morris stared around, searching for support and finding little. Her cheeks heated and she curled her hands into fists but she knew she was lost. She represented the religious groups. Most of whom spent their days in prayer.

  While she might have had members amongst the other groups, she had likely realised that she couldn’t count on them for support. Her group was vocal, but without real power.

  “I would like to assure you all,” I said into the silence. “We will do everything in our power to capture Briony without further loss of life.”

  “Aye.” A woman pushed herself to her feet and I recognised her as a representative of a village to the north. She cupped her hand around her protruding belly and looked pointedly at me. “When will the vaccine be ready?”

  “We will need volunteers,” I said softly, well aware of her reasons for asking. “It will need testing.”

  “Once she is caught,” Samuel said. “I will be the first volunteer.”

  I stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say. It was a huge risk and there was every likelihood that the first to try the new formulae would die or end up like Briony.

  “You can go second,” Shepherd said. “I’ve already claimed first place.”

  The minister, a woman I had judged unfairly upon first meeting her, glared at the crowd.

  “You let your people know this. We’ll not ask them to do anything we won’t do ourselves.”

  “No,” I whispered softly. Cass’s hand tightened in mine. “They can’t.”

  “It’s their choice,” she replied so quietly only I could hear her. “Mine too. I’ll be third.”

  Chapter 17

  We followed the coast as we left Ramsay, the land rising up to our right and the sea on our left. Gregg walked along beside me, his hands in his pockets and his collar turned up against the cold wind that blew in from the sea.

  Behind us, Isaac seemed to be having a one-sided conversation with Erin. I wasn’t at all sure what he could get from that, but it meant he wasn’t talking to me so I was fine with it.

  My minions kept up at the rear, though one full fist of them had raced on ahead a ways. They no doubt had it in mind to encounter any potential problems before I did. In truth, I didn’t even mind that so much since, despite my bravado, I still ached from the gunshot wound I had taken. Not to mention the pain when I stretched the part-healed scars that covered my back from the Reapers claws.

  “Where are the rats?” Gregg asked as he looked up at the hillside beside us. “I mean, there should be loads, yeah? They’re everywhere else.”

  That was true enough. Even the island we called home had a plague of the damned things. Unlike most other animals, they seemed to be positively thriving in the apocalypse. Much as I did, which was a comparison I was not overly fond of.

  “Zombies,” Isaac said, interrupting his own one-sided conversation to answer Gregg. “Most of them hang around near the zombies if there’s no other food. Zombies eat them.”

  “Just like that? The zombies eat them.”

  “Aye, lad.”

  “But.” Gregg rubbed at the scars that covered one half of his face and turned to look back at the big mercenary. “Rats are fast. Zombies, well most zombies, aren’t.”

  “Don’t have to be fast. They sit there, all still like, and when the rats come nibble at their flesh, they grab em! Seen it myself.”

  “You have?”

  “Oh, aye.”

  Gregg turned back to me and I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

  “But… well, I mean… oh, I don’t know.”

  He pushed his hands further into his pockets and pressed his lips firmly together. I shook my head and kept on walking. Despite the inclement weather, it wasn’t unpleasant. The Isle of Man was a beautiful place and with the absence of living people, it had a wildness that appealed to me.

  I could imagine it would make a pleasant home for my children. Plenty of space for them to grow and play. Safe from the dangers of the larger world beyond the sea. It was a pleasing thought and one that I determined to make a reality.

  Of course, to do that, I would just need to ensure the tens of thousands of zombies that lurked in the towns and villages were killed. Not an impossible task by any means, but one that had a reasonably tight timeline considering that we would need to move twenty odd thousand people before winter.

  The meatgrinders would help, but we needed more. A way to destroy the undead without damaging the land or making it uninhabitable. The smaller towns and villages we could clear easily enough. It was the thirty thousand or so undead that would be in Douglas that concerned me.

  Ten times our number, with no real ways to funnel them into a kill zone. We would be at risk of being swarmed and that was unacceptable. The admiral was working on a plan of attack that would minimize the loss of life, or so he claimed.

  I didn’t care how many of our people died, so long as we killed all of the undead. A plan that relied on minimal losses was doomed to failure. We couldn’t truly commit ourselves if we weren’t willing to stand our ground and fight to the death.

  A problem I would need to work on.

  “Looks like trouble,” Gregg said with a nod of his head towards a running figure headed back to us.

  The minion skidded to a stop just ahead of us and slammed his fist against his breast in salute. I cocked an eyebrow and waited for him to speak.

  “A number of houses ahead, My Lord Death.”

  “And?”

  “No Scourge to be seen.”

  I could feel my brow furrow at that. To say it was unexpected would be an understatement. I had assumed the admiral had sent drones ahead to check out the villages first.

  “There are spikes.”

  It took a moment to register what the minion had said and then I understood. “Empty?”

  “No, My Lord Death. There are Scourge impaled upon them.”

  “You just said there were no zombies,” Gregg pointed out.

  “He meant none active,” I replied absently before the minion could. I reached for the radio on my belt and flicked it on. “Hello?”

  “Yo, dude. What’s up?”

  “Have your drones scouted the villages ahead of us?”

  “What villages?”

  That would be a no then. Charlie was in charge of any and all drone activity and if there had been any scouting out the way ahead of us, she would have known.

  “The villages I am supposed to be clearing out.”

  “No. Why would we? There’s nothing to them and you guys can handle yourselves. I have a hundred other places to scout and only so much time.”

  We were barely a kilometre from Ramsay and it would be a simple matter to head back. Pointless wasting our time with empty villages. But, at the same time, I was curious as to who was mounting zombies on stakes.

  I thumbed the button on the radio, turning it off, and slipped it back onto my belt. I looked at my companions and grinned.

  “Let’s go see if we can find out who is doing this then.”

  I ignored Greggs groan and carried on towards the village. As soon as we crossed the old railway tracks and came in sight of the first houses, I saw them. One at either side of the road, pointed tips stained black with old blood.

  On the left-hand side, a torso and legs had sunk to the ground and was almost hidden in the grass and weeds. The head, which I assumed had fallen off when the decay had reached a certain point, lay a few feet away.

  It must have been impaled some time ago for its weight to push it down the wooden stake. The body
had a lot of bone visible through the flesh, what flesh remained at least. I walked past the body and crouched down beside the head.

  The jaw moved as it became aware of me. It’s eye sockets were empty and much of the skin of the face was missing making it unrecognisable. Carrion birds was my guess. I slammed my blade into the top of the skull with a grimace of disgust for the pitiful creature.

  “Is the other the same?”

  “Yes, My Lord Death.”

  “Then put it out of its misery and let’s keep going.”

  The minion dashed away to do as commanded and I moved on, following the road. There were few houses alongside the road and those that were there were dark and empty. The salt leaden air had wreaked havoc on them with no people left to take care of the maintenance and they were in poor states of repair.

  Further on, the village proper came into view. Those few houses became more, with several roads branching off of the one on which we walked. Wildflowers and weeds grew everywhere. The bushes and trees, overgrown with the ground covered in old leaves and seeds.

  No zombies walked those streets and most of the houses were clearly empty of life. I sent my minions off anyway, moving in small groups to check each and every house as I stared at the long row of stakes that I guessed marked the village boundary.

  Each and every one of those stakes had a zombie impaled upon it. While once they might have been able to make sound, that was no longer the case. Some could still move their limbs, but whatever energy they had was faded and almost gone.

  Without the flesh they needed to remain animated, they were slowly dying. Like most of the zombies the world over, I would have thought. It was an immutable law of life. Nothing could exist without some form of energy to fuel it.

  Humans ate vegetables and the flesh of animals, our bodies working to turn that into what we needed to live. A zombie, and the parasite that controlled it required less, but they still needed some. They decayed slowly, and if they didn’t move around or use their energy, they could live for quite some time.

  But eventually, without something to keep them alive, they would die, like all things do. The zombies impaled on the stakes had clearly survived a long time because they weren’t using any of their stored reserves.