Pain flared as they cut into my wrists and my skin grew slick as blood flowed but I raised them again, slamming them violently down and was rewarded with a snap as they broke. I grinned and rushed forward.
The flamethrower was surprisingly light and it was a simple matter to point it at the zombie and pull the trigger. Flame rushed out and the creature shrieked its fury, stopping for a moment from trying to disembowel Dawn and running through the garden, wreathed in flame.
Smoke filled the air and I had but a moment to gloat at the creature’s pain before I was pulled away. I had to release the flamethrower as it was still connected to the tank attached to Jer’s back and then we were out of the gate.
Once again, I was bundled into the back of the truck and Dawn climbed in beside me as Isaac took the wheel and Erin jumped in next to him. The truck sped off as quick as it could, which wasn’t very fast admittedly, and I had a moment to stare at the pillar of smoke rising up into the sky and grin.
Anyone following us, and I was pretty sure that someone would be, would see that and know it was most likely my doing. I nodded, a self-satisfied expression on my face as I settled back against the cab of the truck.
“Well, that was fun,” I said to Dawn.
She just glared, fiddling with the combat knife that she held. I sighed and put my hands behind my head as I leant back, enjoying the ride.
It was good to be alive.
Chapter 9
Port Ness, a handful of houses and a harbour sitting on the northernmost end of the island we called home. Half of the houses were built alongside the only road that led into the village, the rest were clustered before the harbour and that is where Shahid had gathered her forces.
They had stripped those houses along the road of everything that wasn’t bolted down and used it to build a barricade around that cluster. Doors had been removed, floorboards lifted, furniture carted out and even tiles taken from the roofs then piled up around a rough semi-circle of rusting cars.
I waited, seated in the backseat of a land rover as Samuel and Captain Jennings directed their people to spread out. Across the fields, overgrown with weeds, and through the stripped bear houses, weapons in hand.
Two hundred meters along the road, Shahid’s soldiers had begun to gather at their barricade, most of them bearing buckler and poignard but far too many of them with stolen armaments from the CDF stores.
Salt-spray blown from the wild sea just beyond the village mingled with the rain, driven against the windows of the land rover and sending a shiver down my spine. The day was more than chill, it was actually cold and decidedly wrong for the season.
Samuel rapped his knuckles against the window and I pressed the button beside the handle, wincing against the rain that was blown in when the window slid silently down.
“It’s as safe as it’s going to get, My Lady,” he said, voice raised to be heard over the wind. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“No,” I said, uttering a truth that set my stomach to churning. “But I need to do this.”
He nodded, mouth stretched into a thin line as he pulled open the door. His worry was clear to read on his face and I was sure it wasn’t just because I was the lover of his beloved leader. He seemed to genuinely care for me and that was nice. I needed people to care when I had to face groups of protesters on my way out of town.
People were actually protesting me and for the former waitress in me who had once had no more to worry about that finding a boyfriend who wasn’t a sleaze and a job that might become a career, it was a strange feeling to have. To know that I was in a position to be protested.
I shook that thought from my mind as I stepped out into the rain, pulling my coat tight around me. Four women, each dressed completely in black and wearing the black cloth hood of an acolyte moved in to stand in a rough square around me.
“Perhaps I should go without the guards,” I said. “She’ll think we fear her.”
“We do,” Samuel said tersely. “A single bullet is all it would take to remove you from this world.”
“I hardly think she will do that,” I began but he cut me off with a curt wave of his hand.
“No! I’ve lost one daughter already, I couldn’t bear to lose another.”
He stopped, cheeks colouring and he ducked his head, avoiding meeting my gaze.
“Forgive me, My Lady. I didn’t mean…”
“I know what you meant,” I said softly and placed a hand gently on his arm. “It means more than you could possibly know to be held in such regard. Thank you.”
He nodded once, a single jerk of his head, and his face turned to me for just a moment, long enough for me to see the shimmer in his eyes.
“We should go before they get nervous.”
Of course, he was going with me and I was sure that should anyone so much as raise a weapon in a manner that looked like it would be pointed my way, he would step in front of me, providing a shield of his body.
I squeezed his arm once and then without another word, squared my shoulders and forced down the fear that threatened to swamp me. I pressed one hand against my stomach and whispered a silent prayer that no harm would come to the life I carried, and began to walk along the road.
Silence followed me. From my guards, moving almost as one, eyes turned outwards as they looked for any threat, to the long lines of soldiers and acolytes that stretched off to either side, watching us walk.
It seemed to take an age, the wind blowing against me, the rain cold against my skin. In the distance, behind the barricade, the soldiers parted to allow a slim woman through.
She stood, hands on hips and ignoring the rain that soaked the colourful scarf she wore to cover her head. Her face was set, eyes fixed on me as I walked towards her. There was a severity to her features that meant she could never be truthfully called beautiful, but instead, handsome.
The soldiers shifted nervously, many looking to her as though waiting for her to give the order. They held their weapons ready and those with bucklers had them raised before them as though they could provide an effective shield.
I stopped ten meters from the barricade, taking a moment to make a show of looking along its length, the twist of my lips showing my dismissal, as though it was of no real matter. I turned my eyes to her, waiting as she had made me wait in her office not so long ago. Finally, with a sardonic smile I knew would irritate her, I spoke.
“What do you hope to achieve here?”
She blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question and I forced my lips to stillness, hiding my pleasure at throwing her off so early.
“If just one of your people comes a step closer, we shall execute a hostage,” she said finally.
“No doubt. But that doesn’t answer my question. What is it that you want?”
“We want to defend ourselves from those cultists you used to take over the island!” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.
Her people cheered and she wore a self-satisfied expression that I was happy to wipe away.
“The men and women who stopped the zombies you unleashed on the town, you mean? Those same zombies you’d been feeding people to! No, spare me the pretence and just tell me what the hell you want!”
She grimaced, staring daggers at me as a few of her people shuffled their feet and tried not to catch my eye as I scanned their faces.
“Damn you to hell!” Shahid snapped. “Give us boats and supplies! A way off of this damned death-trap you call safety.”
“Why would we do that?” I made a show of looking at the defences and the men and women gathered behind them. “You have, what? A hundred people here, less?”
“And two hundred and eleven prisoners,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. “People we will have no problem executing daily if you do not give us what we want!”
“Where would you go?” I asked, suddenly weary. “The undead cover the world and you will find safety nowhere else.”
I raised my voice to ensure I could
be heard by as many of her people as possible.
“Surrender. Hand yourselves over to us and release the hostages. You will not be harmed and you will be treated fairly.”
“No!” she declared. “Never! We will face death at the hands of your cultist's pets. A boat and provisions or we will start to execute prisoners. You have two days, then the first one dies.”
I met her stare and saw fear in her eyes along with a stubborn refusal to give in. I held back a sigh. There were bigger problems I needed to deal with and she was a distraction I just didn’t need.
The simplest solution would be to give her what she wanted. Let her have a boat and as few provisions as she would accept then let them go on their way. I couldn’t do that though as she had committed terrible crimes against the people of the island and I was determined she would face justice.
My only other alternative was to send in the troops and that would have the potential to kick off a civil war at worst and at best, increase the numbers of those protesting against me. In truth, there was no simple or easy solution.
I turned on my heel without another word and began the walk back to the car. The others remained silent leaving me time to think, for which I was grateful and it was only as I climbed back into the land rover that Samuel spoke.
“You have heard our creed,” he said and I nodded but he stated it anyway. “We die, so you may live.”
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I’ve seen that proven more than once.”
“There is another part. One we do not share with those outside our beliefs.”
He paused, looking around as though to confirm there was no one who would overhear. Even so, he leant in to speak in slow, measured tones.
“We die, so you may live. We kill, so you don’t have to.”
His eyes met mine and I stared at him dumbly. That was pure Ryan and I could have wept for the memories it evoked.
“Give the command and tonight we shall do what we must, what you cannot.”
“No,” I said, but my voice trembled as I said. It.
“You cannot send your own soldiers against them but to us, they have damned themselves by their actions. They are no longer of the Living and as such, will face our judgement.”
I swallowed hard, thinking through my options and knowing I had none. If I had more time, more experience or even just more people, I could have perhaps come up with something. The darkness was gathering around us though and there was too little time to prepare for what would come, let alone to deal with a petulant woman who refused to accept she was beaten.
My heart ached and tears filled my eyes but I blinked them away. The time for that was gone and I needed to be strong, for my people, for my children. I nodded once but knew it was not enough. For such a thing, the words needed to be spoken.
“Yes,” I said, my voice soft, barely more than a whisper. “Save those people and capture as many of the others as you can. Kill only if you must.”
“As you command, My Lady,” he said with a deep bow.
Chapter 10
I yawned sleepily as the truck slowed to a halt. It had been a long journey and three days since we had stopped for anything resembling real rest. As far as I could tell, we had lost the Reaper a day or so back, yet even so, Isaac had kept us moving.
A dull few days for the most part, though they had allowed me to remain unbound, Dawn had been a fastidious guardian, watching me like a pit bull would its master's dinner. I flashed her a smile and received a scowl in reply.
She had seemed to take offence at the deaths of her companions and blamed me for them. Rightfully so, admittedly. Her dislike had made the hours pass slowly however as I had little to do but match her glower and think of new and inventive ways of killing her.
We were some distance north and east from Oban and had come to a stop beside yet another loch that was surrounded by high hills that to my mind may as well have been mountains. Forest covered both the northern and southern shore and far to the east, where the river Tummel emptied out into the loch, I could just make out a structure that I believed to be a hydro-electric dam. That meant, if their base were near, they had power.
“Get down,” Dawn said and gestured with the barrel of her gun.
I rose to my feet, stretching for a moment to work out the kinks gained after long, uncomfortable miles sitting on sacks of lime, and then jumped carefully to the road beside Isaac. He waited long enough for Dawn to join us and then slammed his hand down on the roof of the truck.
Without a word, Erin drove the truck away, further up the road as I looked questioningly at my captors.
“Don’t bother asking,” Dawn snapped and deepened her scowl at my mocking grin.
I didn’t need to ask since it was pretty clear that they would have separate entrances for the trucks that were connected to storerooms and the like. I, on the other hand, would be taken to a different entrance, one that wouldn’t allow me to see all the goodies their base contained.
It was the setup I would have chosen if I had the chance to build myself a super-secret base in the middle of the Scottish Highlands. An entrance for the common folk, the tradespeople and the manual workers and one for the soldiers I had hired to guard my base.
Most likely, the entrance I was being taken to was the one closest to the torture room. I shivered in anticipation at the thought. I was more than a little excited to see what was to come and while I had no real desire to be tortured, I knew it would afford me a chance to understand the people I was planning to kill.
How that was going to happen was still a mystery and I wasn’t blind to the fact that I might never get the chance. My days may well be numbered and filled with a great deal of pain, but if nothing else, they would be interesting.
They led me through the forest. It was old and wild growth before the fall of the world, leading me to suspect that we were in some protected area. That meant whoever had managed to build a secret base had a great deal of power and influence. Or had, at least, before the fall.
We walked for perhaps a half a kilometre, it was hard to tell surrounded by ancient pine that stretched high above us, obscuring our view. I kept a wary eye on my captors for as much as they had allowed me a little freedom, I expected that to change the moment we came in sight of their base.
It wasn’t long before I had the sense that we weren’t alone. There was a change in the air, a feeling of disquiet and not that brought on by the nearness of the undead. I wore a faint smile as I kept my hands down at my sides so as not to alarm those watching our approach.
“Hold!” a man called, stepping out from behind a tree.
He wore the same fatigues and camouflage netting as my captors and carried the same assault rifle that I had become so used to seeing Dawn point my way. It was the same type I’d seen before when I’d met some deserters from the army.
I’d overheard a discussion between Lou, back at the island and Gregg. My friend, being curious, had asked numerous questions about the equipment the soldiers back at the island had. The weapon of choice was the UK military standard SA80, whatever the hell that meant.
Black metal and green plastic, it had the magazine behind the handle allowing for a shorter weapon but meaning the cocking mechanism and ejection port were on the left, requiring it to be used exclusively right-handed.
It had a flash suppressor and allowed for the attachment of a bayonet if required, useful as it happened for stabbing zombies in the head once the magazine was emptied. It had been a really boring conversation and I knew far too much about a weapon I had no intention of using.
Still, I supposed, it was useful to be able to identify the weapons my captors were likely to shoot me with.
“Mark,” Isaac said by way of greeting. “Who did you piss off enough to be stuck on guard duty?”
“Don’t ask,” the other man said with a grunt.
His neck was almost as wide as his head and the short, flat haircut gave him the look of some creature from an old horror movie.
I half expected to see bolts protruding from his neck and grinned at the thought.
“Where’s the rest of the team?”
“Erin took the truck on ahead; the others didn’t make it.”
“Shit, man. That sucks. Zombies?”
“Something like that,” Isaac said, turning his head slightly towards me.
My smile vanished as the large man with the square head frowned directly at me. A beating from him would not be a pleasant experience and I very much thought that he would have no trouble with kicking the stuffing out of me without breaking a sweat.
“Ah. Who’s that?”
“Prisoner.”
“We don’t take prisoners,” Mark said. “You know that.”
“They’ll want to speak with him.”
That gave the man pause and he chewed on his lip for a moment before saying, “fuck! Alright, take him up but put him in holding on level one. He doesn’t go lower.”
“Of course.”
I was curious how many levels there actually were but didn’t bother to ask. They wouldn’t give me an answer and at best I would get a scowl and at worst a blow from a fist or the butt of a weapon. I needed to keep my wits about me and that meant not antagonizing them.
They led me through a break in the trees and there set in a natural crevice in the rocks that made up the steep, vertical face of the hill, was a doorway. Wide enough for three people abreast with a door that was made of steel that was at least a foot thick.
It opened as we approached, Mark having radioed ahead, and several burly men dressed in the same uniform as my captors marched out. I braced myself for the first blow and managed to roll with it, negating some of the force. Even so, I went down to the ground.
Rough hands lifted me bodily and half carried, half dragged me through the door. There was no talk, no chance to do much more than let them do as they willed as they dragged me along wide corridors of grey stone.
They brought me to a steel door that was fixed to the stone and they pulled it open and shoved me in. I landed on the cold stone of the floor with a grunt and looked up in time to see that heavy door slam shut, leaving me beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting.
Killing the Dead Season 3 Box Set | Books 13-18 Page 24
