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

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Killing the Dead Season 3 Box Set | Books 13-18 Page 52

by Murray, Richard


  “I’m fine too,” Gregg muttered as he came up beside her.

  He was pulled into an embrace too and then she released him and slapped his chest.

  “What was that for?”

  “You were supposed to keep him safe!”

  “Yeah, have you any idea how bloody hard that is?”

  “Some,” she admitted with a coy look towards me. “I’m glad to see you too.”

  Gregg grinned and swept his arm out at the small crowd around us. “We brought some friends.” He paused and looked at Isaac. “Well, some friends and some former abductors.”

  “I’ll explain later,” I said as she gave him a questioning look. “For now I’d like to just get on board and sit down.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Two more black-clad figures appeared beside her and thumped their breasts. One stepped forward and spoke.

  “My Lord Death,” she said, raising a few murmurs from the crowd. “How may we serve you?”

  Lily linked her arm with mine and flashed me a sympathetic look.

  “You’ve had your fun running around the countryside. Back to being in charge now,” she said.

  “Yes, well I have a few ideas of what we can do next. But for now.” I looked at the crowd of people. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

  “As you command,” Lily said and pulled me close.

  Epilogue.

  I sat up and stretched, feeling a twinge from my back. I ignored it and pulled on a clean shirt before climbing out of bed. Jinx looked up, ears twitching and I ruffled her fur before heading to the bathroom.

  A knock came on the door just as I was finishing up my morning ablutions and Gregg strode in without waiting for a response.

  “Morning, mate.”

  “Barely,” I said with a glance at the clock on the wall. “What do you want?”

  “Wow, aren’t you a happy chap when you wake up. Not sure how Lily puts up with it.”

  He grinned at my expression.

  “Do you actually have a reason to be here?”

  “Yes. The boss asked me to get you. There’s a boat arriving.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “First one with rescued people, mate. Have to get the welcome mats out and look our best and all that.”

  “Still not sure what that has to do with me.”

  “You’re part of the government, mate. Same as me. We have responsibilities.”

  I just grunted at that. It was an honorary position at best and I had enough to deal with anyway. The Dead were growing in number and that necessitated a few organisational changes in the hierarchy.

  When Samuel got back it would help but until then, I had to do everything myself. Though the food supplies he was going to bring back from the bunker would help out a great deal. You can say a lot about Genpact but they were prepared.

  A decades worth of food for five hundred people would help bolster the island supplies and there were a few places along the way that he was going to look at too. All being well, we would start having some regular supply runs to keep us going until we were settled on the Isle of Man.

  I pulled on my jeans and shoes and followed Gregg out into the hall. Jinx trotted at my heels and I shook my head. She’d stuck close to either me or Lily ever since my return.

  There was an endless number of salutes and greetings from the black-garbed minions as I passed and four of them fell into place around me as I stepped outside the sports centre. They seemed determined to ensure I wasn’t abducted again and I was in no shape to argue for the moment.

  It was a short walk to the docks, but even so, I had to take it slow. The antibiotics were doing their job but I was still not up to full health.

  The crowd parted before us and more than one fearful glance was directed my way. They knew who I was and more than that, what I had done. The people we had brought back had heard or seen far too much and were a little too willing to share that gossip with everyone.

  There were few who had killed a Reaper and none had killed as many as I had. That seemed to be a source of interest for people and had helped build my legend, which in turn, helped with recruitment.

  Lily and the weasel-faced minister she was friendly with broke off their conversation as I arrived. Lily smiled warmly and the other woman gave me her best glare. I grinned mockingly in reply and her eyes narrowed.

  “Why am I here?” I asked as I endured a warm hug from Cass.

  “Sorry,” Lily said. “Special request.”

  She wore a mysterious smile as she said it and I couldn’t help my frown. I turned and watched the approaching boat silently. It had been a pleasure craft before the fall but had a surprising amount of space judging by the number of people crowding its deck.

  It glided in to a stop and lines were thrown as crew jumped to the dock and tied it off. I grew bored with waiting and reached down to pet the dog. There were a great many things I could have been doing rather than standing on the cold dock.

  “Welcome,” Lily called out as the small crowd approached. “We’re so very pleased you could make it.”

  “Thank you, dear,” a familiar voice said and I looked up in startled surprise as a woman turned towards me. “Hello, Ryan.”

  “Mother,” I said with a sinking feeling.

  Infected

  Killing the Dead: Season Three Book Four

  By Richard Murray

  Copyright 2018 Richard Murray

  All Rights Reserved

  All Characters are a work of Fiction.

  Any resemblance to real persons

  Living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Some scenes are based on real locations that

  have been altered for the purposes of the story.

  Chapter 1

  The sea pulled at me, its waves crashing against my legs as though it was trying to pull me back into its dark embrace. I could feel its hunger, it’s darkness, so very like my own. I admit that I was tempted.

  It wouldn’t take much. Just a few steps back and then fall, letting those icy cold waters of the Irish Sea take me into their embrace. One day, perhaps, but not then, not when there was so much death and destruction to come.

  I unsheathed my blades, the long knife in my right hand and the short one in my left. A savage grin crossing my face as I pulled myself free of the greedy embrace of the sea and strode onto the land.

  My darkness called to me, a ravenous hunger for death that could never be fully sated. It demanded sacrifice, sustenance for the emptiness within. I was happy to comply.

  A shambling zombie lurched towards me, its fear of the water washed away by the need to taste of my flesh. My blade crashed through the bone of its forehead and it fell without a sound.

  As if in response, a thousand other voices cried out, their moans rising all along the shore and my laughter echoed out in reply. I lifted my arm and pointed at the surging mass of undead as they made their way towards me, shuffling and stumbling on rotted limbs.

  My minions answered.

  Two hundred black-clad men and women, my followers, my soldiers, my army of the Dead. They pulled themselves from the sea, their voices rising as they gave out their cry to battle, their resounding call to arms.

  We are the Dead.

  They crashed into the ranks of the undead, their knives rising and black blood filling the air. The newest members, those most recently joined, they were the first to sink their blades into the undying enemy. They were the first to fall to their grasping hands and foul bite.

  It was no matter. The weak would die and the strong would continue the fight. There was no give, no surrender, no quarter. It was us or them and, we were the Dead, and battle was joined.

  We killed without emotion, without even conscious thought. Our arms rising and falling, blades sinking deep into half-rotted flesh. A hundred dead zombies soon became a thousand and then two. Our losses, minimal, the weak falling away and the strong growing only more powerful, more confident in
their ability to kill the undead scourge.

  All too soon, it was over. Silence fell and I turned to my brethren, their faces hidden, but all eyes on me, and I raised my arm in victorious exultation. Their cries echoed across the beach, fists pumping the air.

  Behind us, the regular soldiers came ashore. Their faces showing fear, apprehension and more than a little awe. We were the head of the spear, the shock troops, the first into the breach and we were fearless.

  “My Lord Death,” a black-clad minion said as she knelt on the soiled sand beside my feet. “Your orders.”

  “Cleanse this town.”

  She rose to her feet, fist thumping against her breast and was gone. Gathering the other Righteous with her and relaying my order. I forced the condescending smirk from my face and watched them scurry about their tasks.

  Each of the Righteous commanded five fists. All eight of them gathered their commands and set off into the town, but not before each of them detailed one black-clad minion to head towards me.

  An honour guard.

  I didn’t hide my sneer. I knew what it was. They were terrified that something would happen to me, that I would be abducted again. It was no doubt Samuel’s idea and I would have words with him. It would be useless to send them away since that would be one of the few orders of mine that they would ignore.

  “Sir,” a voice said behind me and I turned about to see a familiar face.

  “Captain Jennings,” I said by way of greeting and gave a pointed look at his left hand.

  There was a finger missing there and he had cut it away himself at my command. Something that, judging by the crimson that heated his cheeks, still rankled.

  “We have orders to escort you back to the ship.”

  I flicked the blood from my blade and flashed him a grin. It would be interesting to see what he would do should I refuse to go.

  “She really was quite insistent.”

  My grin faded a little at that. He wasn’t wrong. When she had learnt of my plan to lead the assault on the Isle of Man, well, let’s just say that there were few in the town that hadn’t been speaking of it for days afterwards.

  I tilted my head and stared at him as columns of CDF soldiers moved past us, each of them trying their best not to look my way. They had all heard the stories and had just seen me in action and I was pretty sure it was safe to say they were impressed.

  “Sir, your wounds are not fully healed.”

  Bah, a week of laying around the town had given me ample time to recover. Besides, I knew what was waiting for me back at the island and I had no real desire to face that.

  “Very well.” If my voice were cold, then there was a good reason. I would sooner face the undead while still burdened by the wounds I had taken after leaving the bunker, than face what awaited me. “I shall return to the ship.”

  The captain saluted once more and I sheathed my blades with a final lingering look at the bodies that crowded the shore. He wasn’t wrong. The beach-head had been established and they would spend the next few days securing it.

  Only once secure would they consider moving out across the island fighting any pockets of undead that they could find. The idea being to cleanse it entirely of the undead before moving the majority of our current population across.

  It would be boring and the exciting part was done. For the moment at least.

  All along the beach, small inflatable boats were being pulled ashore and men and women, young and old, were climbing out. They each carried a pack and a poignard on their belt. Many of them had the newer spears that were being trialled.

  Five feet of machined wood with a foot long pointed steel tip on the end and a steel crossguard just below that. With the steel bucklers they all carried on their left arm, they could push away any zombie that came close and kill them from afar without needing to get in range of the teeth.

  Beyond them, out at sea, was the one destroyer the admiral had sent with the invasion force and the former cruise ship that had carried the three thousand CDF and my own two hundred Dead.

  I waded out towards the nearest inflatable boat and climbed aboard, salt water dripping from my soaked clothes. Even though it was midsummer, I would probably get a cold because of how chill it had been.

  Lily had explained that. Something to do with the radioactive fires and the junk they sent up into the air as nuclear power plants melted down, which was added to everything thrown up when some countries had tried to solve their zombie problem with nukes.

  It wasn’t going to be a full on nuclear winter, which would have probably wiped out all life on earth, but it had lowered the temperature by almost an entire degree and filled the sky with ominous grey clouds that didn’t seem to part.

  That would no doubt prove challenging as winter approached but I was confident Lily would find some solution to keep everyone alive. Especially our unborn children.

  To my surprise, that brought a smile to my face. My children, our children. Twins.

  Never in my life had I considered that I would have children and I found the prospect somewhat interesting, possibly even exciting. As someone who didn’t often get excited, that was a new and strange experience.

  With my guards huddled around me we made it back to one of the smaller support ships. A former pleasure craft, it had likely once been used for the odd fishing trip or small holiday. Since the end of the world, it had become a fast transport.

  My mood soured as I realised it had likely only been sent with the small invasion fleet so that I could use it to return to Lily all the sooner. She had outthought me and that irritated me greatly.

  I climbed aboard and without a word, the captain started the engines and turned us about. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to make the return journey and I had no intention of sitting in wet clothing for its entirety.

  So, without a word to the other people on board, I went to the cabin below decks and stripped off. My bodyguards didn’t follow, instead taking up station outside the door. Though, to be fair, one did ensure the room was safe first.

  I settled onto the bed and pulled the covers over myself and let my head fall back onto the pillow. Just a week or so ago, I had been wandering the countryside with just a knife and some boots I had taken from a dead man.

  Zombies, raiders and even mercenaries had attacked me and I had survived them all. Since then, I had barely had a moment without several of my minions hovering protectively around me. They were terrified that something would happen to me again.

  It left me feeling trapped and that was a dangerous thing for me to feel. An animal in a trap would gnaw its own leg off to get free. A serial killer in a trap would play possum and then kill the one who set the trap when they came to check on it.

  I needed a little more freedom than I currently found myself with. If I didn’t get it, then it was entirely likely that people would die.

  It didn’t escape me that the problem was of my own making. I had been the one to create the death cult that surrounded me so cloyingly protectively. I had fallen in love with a woman who, apparently, wanted me to remain alive.

  Even so, I needed a little more alone time to be me.

  I was still pondering how I would get that when a knock came at the door and the muffled voice of a minion announced our imminent arrival back at the Isle of Lewis where we had made our home.

  My clothes were still wet and I pulled the jeans on with a grimace before heading back up onto deck. I arrived there in time to see the boat glide into a stop at the docks.

  There were a few people gathered there, nothing like the crowd that had seen the fleet off. I met the eyes of the woman I loved, seeing the concern in them as they searched my face for signs of injury.

  Gregg, beside her, leant in and whispered something that made her laugh and I nodded a greeting to him. His efforts were appreciated. He’d taken it upon himself to be a distraction for her in my absence and his friendship was unquestioned.

  My mood soured as I looked to the o
ther side of her and caught sight of the older woman with the greying hair. I squared my shoulders and jumped over to the dock, my guards following me, even there.

  A short walk along the wooden dock to where the group waited, which seemed weirdly longer than it should be. Lily stepped forward as I approached, pulling me into her embrace. Her lips were warm against my cheek and her breath hot as she held me.

  “Have fun?”

  “I did,” I replied with a grin that soured as the eyes of the older woman remained fixed on me, a frown forming on her face. Lily noticed my expression.

  “Be nice,” she whispered.

  “I always am,” I said with a wicked grin that raised a laugh from her. I turned to the older woman and sucked in a breath. “Hello, mother.”

  “No more running,” my mother replied sourly. “It’s time to talk.”

  Chapter 2

  “How much do you think he will hate that?” Gregg asked with a short bark of laughter as we watched Ryan march off after his mother like a man walking to the gallows.

  “I think he’d rather be anywhere but there.” I agreed, a small smile growing on my own lips that soon faded. “Is it weird that I’d give anything to be receiving a talking to from my own mum?”

  Gregg pulled me close and looked at me with tears forming in his one eye that matched those in my own. He shook his head and smiled a little sadly.

  “I know exactly what you mean. That man’s lucky and he doesn’t realise it.”

  “Or care.”

  “True enough.”

  I wiped my eye and looked around. My small squad of bodyguards were stood just far enough away to give me the illusion of privacy, but close enough that they would be able to protect me at a moments notice.

  Lisa, the fist leader, noted my look and gently pressed her clenched fist to her breast in salute. I smiled in return and seemingly knowing what I needed, she snapped a quick order and one of the guards ran off towards the landrover that was parked a short distance away.

 

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