Killing the Dead Season 3 Box Set | Books 13-18

by Murray, Richard

  I pushed myself to my feet and brushed myself off, taking note of the camera that was mounted in the far corner of the room and the steel table bolted to the floor. There were two chairs, one on either side of the table and made of aluminium. I pulled one out and sat down.

  There was little else to do but sit and count the seconds as they passed. I folded my hands before me on the table and stared straight ahead at the door, not giving whoever was watching the satisfaction of seeing me put out in any way.

  Not that I was.

  Minutes turned to hours and I shifted in my chair often, flexing muscles to stop them from cramping from being in the same position for such a long time. I knew what they were doing, making me wait, and I would have applauded them if not for the boredom it entailed for me.

  Finally, a door opened and I tilted my head, eyebrows rising as a young woman walked through. Short hair dyed a bright pink framed a narrow face with prominent cheekbones and eyes of hazel that appeared, warm and even welcoming.

  She was slim, though and moved with the fluidity of an athlete and she wore a simple pair of jeans and a sweater along with trainers. I tapped my fingers idly against the table, wondering at their choice of person to first send in to speak with me.

  “Hello,” she said in a cheery way that immediately set my teeth on edge.

  No doubt her tone and general pleasant demeanour were intended to put people at ease but it had the opposite effect on me and I gritted my teeth as I waited for her to get to the point.

  “Could you tell me your name?” she asked after a moments pause when it became clear I wasn’t about to speak.

  “Ryan.”

  “Last name? or are you one of those people who just have the one name?”

  “Immaterial these days I should think. I just go by the one now.”

  “As you wish.” She made a note on the clipboard she held and smiled politely. “Date of birth?”

  “Why?”

  She made another note.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Yorkshire originally,” I said, a little bemused.

  “Very good.”

  The scratching of her pencil on paper was overly loud in the small room and I forced down my urge to kill her and linked my fingers together, as though to keep my hands still.

  “How many people have you killed?”

  I stared at her, corner of my mouth turning up in a half-smile at the sudden change of question.

  “Too many to remember.”

  She nodded and once again scribbled on the paper attached to her clipboard.

  “And undead?”

  “A considerable amount.”

  She looked up from her writing, the beginning of a frown creasing the smooth pale skin of her forehead and she tutted loudly.

  “It will go a lot quicker if you are not so glib.”

  “No doubt.”

  One eyebrow arched as she gave a small bark of laughter and returned to her writing.

  “You are part of a large group of survivors based on the Isle of Lewis?”

  “Sure.”

  “How many people are there?”

  “A lot.”

  Her frown deepened as she chewed on her lower lip, eyes flicking up towards the camera set high up in the corner of the room.

  “Please,” she said, voice dropping low. “It will go much easier for you if you answer the questions.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then they will send someone else to ask.”

  I am not often capable of telling the emotions people are feeling or showing. It is something that I had struggled with often as I tried to blend in and avoid notice, but there was one that I could always recognise and that was fear. The young woman reeked of it.

  For a moment I considered answering her, of playing nicely. Then I discarded the idea. I wanted to know what those people were capable of and more than anything, I wanted an excuse to be able to kill them.

  “I look forward to meeting them,” I said with a wide grin.

  She shook her head slowly as she glanced up at the camera once more and rose from the chair. She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, clearly deciding against it and with a final shake of her head turned towards the door.

  My laughter followed her from the room and as the door slammed shut behind her, I turned to look up at the camera, staring straight into the lens as my mirth faded. I flashed a mocking grin at it before turning back to stare at the door, waiting for my next visitor.

  Chapter 11

  They came into the town as the sun reached its nadir. Fifty men and women dressed in naval fatigues escorting seventy-two prisoners who walked along with shell-shocked expressions on their bloodied faces. In their midst walked the former minister Shahid.

  People of the town stopped what they were doing and turned to watch the procession voices rising in a babble that faded away as the Dead walked in behind them. All forty-seven of them.

  I watched their approach and hid a shudder as I counted and re-counted the prisoners, knowing that nearly thirty people had died at my order. It was a chilling thought and one that I wouldn’t ever be comfortable with.

  “Time to reap what I have sown, I guess,” I said to Jinx who merely tilted her head and looked at me.

  They stopped outside the sports centre, the soldiers forming a ring around the prisoners who knelt on the damp, cracked tarmac that had once been a car park. Those men and women who made up the Dead filed inside without so much as a glance at those they had defeated.

  All but Samuel, who walked over to my side, head high and face set, showing no expression. He nodded a greeting to me and reached down to pat, Jinx.

  “It went well then,” I said, my heart a dead weight in my chest as butterflies filled my stomach. “The civilians?”

  “No deaths,” Samuel said, his voice low. “We waited until nightfall and took them almost completely by surprise. Some tried to fight, but it was no real contest.”

  A shudder ran through me and I nodded slowly. There was a crowd gathering around the edge of the carpark, hundreds of people, their faces all turned towards me as they waited for what I would do.

  Admiral Stuart pushed through the crowd, a squad of marines following along behind him. He marched straight to Captain Jennings and spoke rapidly with him for a short time before heading over towards me.

  “The others are on their way,” he said and I nodded.

  Cass came next, leading the new government ministers, most of whom had been the old cabinet ministers.

  Ministers Jones and Shepherd had been part of the government I had dissolved and according to both Cass and the Admiral, both of whom had served with them, they were good and decent people who had done their best to mitigate the damage the corrupt ministers were causing.

  Alongside them came the new minister Macintosh, or as he preferred to be known, Lou. A man who was steadfast and cared deeply about helping the people gathered on the island. He’d been a military man for most of his life and when the world had gone to hell, he had saved as many people as he could, eventually ending up in Glasgow with a large number of survivors. He was a good man.

  “You need to be careful,” Cass hissed as she reached my side.

  I nodded a greeting to each of the ministers in turn as they lined up alongside me and only then did I turn to my best friend.

  “This has to be done.”

  “It will cause chaos!”

  While that was true, it didn’t change anything. I had to do what was necessary to keep everyone safe and if that meant cutting away those who meant harm, well, that is what I’d do.

  “Each of the men and women here, have committed crimes against us.”

  I scanned the crowd, hoping to gauge their reaction but seeing nothing more than a mass of people who had lost everything, including hope. They deserved to have that back.

  “As we speak more of our brave men and women are out there, searching for others like us, survivors of this war
we are fighting against the undead. They are risking their lives to bring hope and the chance of safety to others, to people they haven’t yet met.”

  “Those they find will come here, to this island and we will share our few resources equally with them because we are all just people, trying to survive.”

  The crowd was silent, barely a whisper to be heard and I felt the enormous weight of their expectations. Many of them would fear me, hate me even for what I had to do, but they would have a chance to do that because of it.

  “We are all there is,” I called out. “The last known place of safety in this world and it will not last. Not if we allow people like these to commit their horrendous crimes against us!”

  Many of those kneeling on the hard ground, lowered their heads. Shame, guilt or perhaps just a feeling of hopelessness taking them. No matter the reason, they too knew what was coming.

  “Former Minister Shahid,” I called out and the proud woman raised her chin as people turned to her and two soldiers stepped in, lifting her to her feet and dragging her to stand before me. “You unleashed zombies on this town and you fed people to them all in the name of science. For your crimes, there can be no redemption. I sentence you to death.”

  Her eyes filled with rage and she opened her mouth to speak, to scream, to declare her innocence. She had the chance to do nothing more than gasp as I lifted my hand and pulled the trigger of my gun.

  The gunshot echoed and the silence was broken by a wordless sound of shock coming from the crowd. I lowered my hand, holstering my side-arm and ignoring the two soldiers as they dragged away the body.

  Admiral Stuart's soldiers held back the crowd as they pushed forward, angry at what they had just witnessed and I held up my hand, waiting for silence to slowly return. Cass pressed her hand against my back, a hidden sign of comfort and support.

  Even though she hadn’t agreed with what I had decided to do, she knew I wasn’t strong enough to do it totally alone and as only a true friend could, she stood by me.

  “The rest of you,” I called out to the captured soldiers who stared back at me with fear in their faces. “You stood by as zombies invaded this town. You willingly followed the woman who released them. For that, you will be punished.”

  Once more, the crowd was silent, breathless as they waited for what I would say next.

  “There is a prison cell waiting for each and every one of you and you will remain there until the world is safe once more.” I looked at each of their faces in turn. “On the morning of every day, you will be given a chance. A chance to leave your cell and put on a uniform once more. A chance to take up arms and stand on the frontlines of this war we fight. A chance to redeem yourself through service to others.”

  “A chance you should not take lightly.”

  The soldiers guarding them gestured for them to rise and Captain Jennings gave a smart salute before leading them away, leaving just us and the crowd. I waited with as much patience as I could muster as the last of them left and then looked back at the crowd.

  “Today is a new day. The new government ministers have been sworn in and they have one and all, given their oath to serve each and every one of you. As will I.”

  There was no response to that and I allowed myself a slight smile.

  “It will not be easy and there will be things I do that you will not like, but know this. Everything I do from now until the day the last zombie is dead, I will do to ensure you all have a chance of surviving this hell!”

  “If you commit a crime against another, you will find yourself in a cell and you will be given the same exact choice as those others. Serve the people or stay in your cell. There will be no special treatment, no favouritism.”

  “Each and every one in this government or serving in the CDF is doing just that. Giving their service to you, so that you may live, so that one day you can live in a world where your children do not have to fear the monsters. That is what we are doing and any who try to stop that will face the final death!”

  I looked around, meeting as many of those people’s gazes as I could and I held my head high.

  “When we are done, when this world is safe once more, I shall step down. I will answer for the things I will have to do and I will do so gladly, for I will know that I did it to give you all the world you deserve. A better one.”

  There was nothing else to be said and through my legs trembled, I kept my back straight and didn’t stumble as I turned and walked away, a rising hubbub of noise behind me.

  Chapter 12

  I shielded my eyes as the door opened wide, bright light shining in directly on my face. The music, that same incessant song, that had been playing for what I estimated to be close to a week, finally shut off.

  Two men walked into the room, heavy wooden rods in their hands and I knew what would come next. First was the sleep deprivation as they blasted that same damned song over and over again for every hour of the day.

  Second was the isolation. Locking me in a room, alone in the dark with nothing but the song to listen to and that so loud that I couldn’t even hear myself think.

  Next would be the beating.

  I mustered my best grin as vague shapes came into focus and I recognised at least one of them.

  “Hello, Isaac. Been a few days.”

  “Clever bastard,” he said by way of greeting. “Bet you’re not feeling so clever now.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said as I placed trembling hands against the ground and pushed myself to my feet. “I’m pretty sure I have you right where I want you.”

  He barked a laugh and shook his head.

  “I like your attitude, mate. Any other time, you’d have done well on my team.”

  “Aye, any other time. Not now though, huh?”

  “Not now.”

  He gave a sharp gesture with his hand and the two men came at me. I swung first, my fist missing the first man's jaw as he swayed out of reach. The second man’s wooden rod caught me squarely in the gut and I doubled over, all breath leaving my lungs in one foul smelling blast.

  “Jeez, this wanker stinks!” one of the men said as he grabbed my arm.

  “What do you expect?” Isaac said. “Poor bastard’s been rotting in his own piss and shit for a week.”

  Thanks for that, I thought to myself. Hardly something I wanted to be reminded of and while you never truly grow used to the smell, you do kind of manage to ignore it.

  They dragged me along the corridor and I gave up on the idea of resisting, marshalling what little energy I had for the interrogation that was to come. The little sleep I’d managed in the past week had been barely even sleep and certainly not restful.

  Along a wide corridor and through another door into a room that was all white ceramic tiles with drains in the floor. Either they were expecting to really make me bleed and wanted it to be easy to clean up the mess or I was about to have a shower.

  Personally, I was rooting for the latter.

  “Get undressed,” one of the men said quite brusquely right after they dropped me to the floor.

  “Happy to,” I said, pushing myself up.

  Nudity had never really been a problem for me. I cared little what others thought of me and as such had never really had those hang-ups that others suffered from. Even so, I found myself reluctant to undress.

  I knew that at least part of it was so that I could wash, but another part was to make me feel vulnerable. I understood that. I’d used the same tactic myself, after all, back when I had been an unassuming serial killer hiding in plain view.

  One of the men leant back against the wall, tapping his wooden rod against the tile. Clunk, clunk, clunk, like the ticking of a particularly annoying clock. I made sure to look directly at him and smile as I pulled off my clothing, determined to let him know that he was not unnerving me.

  “Jesus!” one of them breathed as I removed my shirt.

  I glanced down, and then back up at him, my smile widening as I said, “It’s been an interesting
year.”

  The puckered scar in my shoulder where Georgia had stabbed me still pained me when the weather was cold. The scars that crisscrossed my torso, aside from being rather ugly, were not really something I noticed. Made by the claws of a Feral, they had very nearly been the death of me.

  There were more scars, all over my body, reminders of fights I had won and some, almost lost. I barely thought of them most days but seeing the look in the eyes of those men, it was a pleasant reminder that not everyone had survived the things I had. Nor could they have.

  “Looks like it,” Isaac said softly.

  I flashed him a grin and removed the rest of my clothing, doing the best I could to hide my weariness through bravado. Even so, my legs trembled as I forced myself to walk slowly over to the shower.

  With a twist of a knob, water streamed out of the shower head and I braced myself before stepping beneath it. My breath came in gasps as the icy water sluiced over my skin and I reached for the soap that sat in a shallow alcove in the tiles.

  Shivering from the frigid water, I used the soap to scrub myself as best I could and as quickly as I could do so. There was no telling when they would turn the water off and leave me shivering and covered in lather, in another attempt to throw me off guard.

  I stepped out of the water and nodded my thanks as a towel was thrust towards me.

  “We have hot water too, you know?” Isaac said with a wry smile.

  “Had a little trouble sleeping lately,” I replied as I rubbed myself dry. “Figured the cold woke wake me up a bit.”

  “No doubt.”

  He tossed over a pair of white coveralls and I looked at him, a frown forming on my face. Not what I expected and that annoyed me. It meant they had succeeded in throwing me off guard.

  “Can’t have you walking around naked,” Isaac said. “We have families living here.”

  Interesting.

  I was escorted, without the need for them to drag me, back out of the room and along a corridor, before turning off down a side corridor and all the way to the end. There were a number of doors set into the stone of the wall and at the end of one side corridor, I caught sight of an elevator. I made sure to note their locations.