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 89

by Murray, Richard


  I slammed down into the snow on my back, the air rushing from my lungs as the enormous weight of the armoured zombie landed atop me. Bloodied stumps of its hand pressed down against my arm, holding me in place as drool leaked from its leering mouth.

  It inhaled deeply, savouring my scent as it opened its jaws wide enough for me to see the bone growth covering the soft palate at the top of the mouth. An engorged, blackened tongue protruded from its mouth and I laughed as I brought up my free arm, driving the knife I held straight through its left eye.

  “Mate?” Gregg called out cautiously. “You alive?”

  I groaned in response, which was pretty much all I could do as the full weight of the metal-clad monster rested atop me. Its blood was pooling on my jacket and I was well aware of my own wounds and the danger of infection should I try and move it.

  “Mate?”

  His face appeared, full of concern as he stared down at me between casting frightened glances at the creature.

  “You infected? Christ! Tell me it didn’t infect you!”

  “Urk!”

  I gestured as best I could at the creature and understanding dawned. He nodded and reached for the creature before hesitating and turning to look back at the store.

  “Make yourself bloody useful and come help!”

  A moment later, Briony came into view. Her face was impassive as she reached down and easily pulled the creature from atop me. I sucked in a deep breath of air and made to get up, only to stop as Gregg waved me back, reaching for his pack once more.

  “Stay there. Don’t move till I get those wounds covered. Were you infected?”

  “He’s not,” Briony stated simply and my eyes flicked to her. “I could… smell, the difference in you.”

  “So soon after possible infection?” Gregg asked, his curiosity overcoming his distaste.

  “Yes.”

  Gregg nodded and set to, cleaning each of my wounds in turn and slapping quick dressings on each to ensure they were covered.

  “Isaac’s alive, but hurt,” Gregg said as he worked. “Whatever the hell this thing is, it can do some damage.”

  “I know,” I muttered, wincing. “Genpact know we are coming.”

  “Not necessarily. They could have just been testing it on any survivors.”

  “No, they know,” I said. “This thing wouldn’t be wasted on just anyone. Too valuable.”

  Gregg paused and his eye moved up as he looked to the sky, his voice dropping low. “You think they’re watching?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck.”

  I grinned at that and silently urged him to get on with it as the cold was seeping through my tattered clothes and seeming to reach straight into my bones. I needed to be up and moving as quickly as possible.

  “Can Isaac walk?”

  “With help,” Gregg said, eyes darting to Briony. “She could carry him. Not like she was much help in the fight.”

  “Nor were you,” she hissed in reply. “That… thing! It is wrong!”

  “In what way?” I asked.

  “It was not dead.”

  Like her then, I realised. Genpact had their own version of the Infected and more than that, they had adapted them to be a new weapon to use against us. I couldn’t help but wonder just how many of them were out there.

  “This could be a problem,” I said, voice low as I realised just how big a problem. “There could be more guarding their base.”

  “Likely, mate.”

  Briony, head tilted to one side raised her hand to gesture us to silence and I let out a groan. There, in the distance, was the sound of a helicopter and it was growing louder.

  “You think it’s bringing another?” Gregg asked, voice fearful.

  “I don’t want to wait to find out,” I muttered as he finally allowed me to stand. “Grab Isaac and let’s go. If there’s no boat, we are well and truly screwed.”

  “If there is one?” Gregg asked, shoving his kit back into his pack.

  “Then we’re still screwed, but we’ll be at sea instead of on land.”

  “Great.”

  Chapter 11

  I stared out at a veritable sea of faces, all staring back at me. The clothes they wore were black, but they had removed their hoods, something they rarely did for anyone outside of their group. It was a singular honour they afforded me, and I was not unaware of that.

  The hall was filled to bursting with every available bit of space taken up by those who had sworn their lives to Ryan. It was more than a little intimidating. Each one of those people could likely tear me apart without pausing for breath.

  Each of them lived for nothing else but to kill the undead and when there were none to kill, they trained with one another. Every combat tactic that could be taught to them by the Admiral’s marines, had been absorbed by them and they practised it against one another daily.

  There was a good reason why they were so feared, and it wasn’t just their skill. Each of them had dedicated what remained of their life to Ryan’s cause. They called themselves the Dead because that is what they considered themselves to be. Dead.

  They had lost everything and everyone they had ever cared about. Seen their families torn apart by the undead or by raiders. Each of them, faced with the choice to survive or die, had chosen to die. But that wasn’t such an easy thing to do, the will to live was strong. Many found that they couldn’t take their own lives, so instead, they gave up.

  Ryan gave them a purpose. He gave them a reason to keep moving, to keep breathing. More than that, he told them the truth. If they followed him, they would die. It might not be today, nor a year from now, but one day, they would be killed.

  It could be protecting some of the living, or just on one of the many excursions to the mainland, but one day, they would die. The longer they were part of his cult, the more chance they had of dying serving him.

  And, they worshipped him for it.

  I shook my head at that thought, unable to understand such fatalism. I loved life too much to ever consider joining his group. I couldn’t cut myself off from so many others who needed me and not just my skill with a blade.

  “They’re ready, My Lady,” Lisa whispered,

  The air seemed to hum with anticipation as all of those people waited for me to speak, to give them something to cling to. Samuel was lost to us and Ryan was gone, away on some adventure. While they had no doubt in their mind that he would be back, they needed direction. They needed someone to tell them what to do.

  I sucked in a deep breath of the chill air and cast my gaze around once more.

  “Thank you,” I began. “For being here, for doing all that you have done for the people of this island. Without your skill, your willingness to go out and find food and supplies, many of our people would have died and the rest would be suffering greatly.”

  “There is no way that I can ask more of you than you have already given.” I sucked in another, chill breath before expelling it and speaking in a rush. “But I am going to.”

  No movement, no sound from the crowd. They just stared at me and I took that to be a good sign.

  “You have seen the images, the video, being transmitted by Genpact. You know Samuel’s fate.”

  A rumble travelled through the room at that, an undercurrent of anger that was palpable. I felt that I could have reached out and touched it, as though it were some discernible, physical, thing.

  “Ryan is away and until he returns.” If he ever returns. “You will need someone to lead you.”

  “We have spoken of this, My Lady,” Lisa said, and I turned to look directly at her. “We will follow you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled as hundreds of voices chanted. “We are the Dead!”

  I waved my hands, gesturing for silence. It took a moment, but the noise died down and once more, all eyes were on me. I swallowed past the fear that clutched at my throat. If I were to say the wrong thing, I could lose them.

  “Thank you, but I am not
the one to lead you.”

  Murmurs began, whispered words travelling back and forth across the hall as the gathered acolytes expressed what I hoped was dismay and not anger. Lisa stepped forward, reaching out towards me and I turned to her once more.

  “My Lady? We have displeased you?”

  “No! God no!” I said, smiling at her and turning to the crowd once more so that I could address everyone. “You honour me with even the suggestion that I am worthy to lead you. But I am not.”

  More murmurs, more whispered words and I definitely caught a hint of anger. I needed to tread carefully.

  “Please. Please, let me speak. I am of the Living. I lead the people of this island; all of the people and it is my duty to do so. More than that, I have two, beautiful babies that need me. I could not serve you fully as your leader because of this.”

  “Then who, My Lady?” Lisa asked. “If the true love of My Lord Death is not worthy, who is?”

  “I propose you,” I said, and she blinked, taken aback.

  “Me?”

  “You have served, Ryan… Your Lord Death, faithfully. You have saved my life several times and proven yourself to be valiant and intelligent. More than that, you are truly one of the Dead.”

  I turned to the crowd, meeting as many of their gazes as I could as I tried to will them to accept my choice.

  “What do you all say?”

  “We are the Dead!” they cried, as one, slamming their clenched fists against their chests.

  “Then it is done,” I said before Lisa could object. “Lisa shall lead you until Ryan returns.”

  Once again their cries filled the hall and it took several moments for me to gain their attention and several more moments of waving my hands for silence until they quietened.

  “You know what we face, what is coming to this island. You know the threat to everyone here, myself and my children included.”

  That was low, even I could admit that to myself, mentioning my children. Ryan’s children. They would die for him and by default, for them too.

  “We cannot survive an attack, an assault upon this island. No matter where they land, it will spell disaster for us all.”

  “You have a proposal?” Lisa asked, voice cutting through the silence.

  “Yes. When the fleet nears, I shall set out on one of the destroyers and with me, will come each and every boat in our fleet. I want all of you to be on those boats.”

  “My Lady… this, seems…”

  I knew how it seemed, but I had a plan and while it would be risky and many of those who set out would not return, I truly believed it was our best chance.

  “Trust in me,” I said, softly, yet my voice still carried in the stillness. “I need you to trust me.”

  “We do.”

  Once more, their fists slammed against their chests and I brushed away the tears that formed at their acceptance of me, of their trust in me.

  “Many of us will not return here. I need you to understand that, I need-“

  “We are the Dead,” Lisa said softly, her words echoed by those brave men and women in black. “We are the lost. We are the empty. Our purpose is to protect the living and we die, so you do not have to. We are the Dead.”

  It was said with such a casual, matter of fact tone, as though she wasn’t speaking of a people who had basically just stated they were nothing, they had no reason for being but to die for the people of this island.

  I couldn’t have stopped my tears if I had wanted to. I nodded, once, to her and it was my turn to press my white, knuckled, fist against my breast. A silent salute for each and every one of them.

  If they were dead, then it was up to me to bring as many of them back to life as I could. Barring that, I would at least bring as many back to the island as was possible.

  Though something told me that none of us would make it back.

  Chapter 12

  Isaac grimaced in pain as he held his leg, clamping his jaw shut to keep from making any noise. Fresh blood was leaking through the hasty bandage Gregg had wrapped around his leg and sweat beaded on his forehead.

  Absently, I wondered if he would make it and I hefted my blade as I considered my options. His eyes met mine for a moment and, apparently discerning my thoughts, he began to glare. I flashed him a grin and kept my knife in hand.

  Somewhere, nearby, the clink-clink of metal plates knocking against one another could be heard. I risked rising, just enough to peer out of the window of the fast food restaurant where we were hiding.

  “What?” Gregg asked, voice barely above a whisper.

  “Other side of the plaza, by the bank,” I replied, equally quietly.

  We’d almost made it all the way to the coast when the damned thing had come into view behind us. Despite the clear weight of the steel scales it wore, it moved with considerably more speed than we could.

  That being the case, we’d ducked into the fast food place on the north-eastern corner of a small plaza. We were in no shape to fight it and as interested as I was in killing another of the creatures, I realised that caution was the better option.

  Unfortunately, that meant we found ourselves sitting on the cold floor, backs pressed up against the wall beneath the large windows as we waited for it to either get bored and wander away or catch our scent, which is when it would get very interesting, very fast.

  I tapped idly on my leg as I considered what we should do. The pier was barely sixty metres away from where we crouched. The pier itself was roughly three hundred and fifty metres in length with the RNLI station at the far end.

  That was a long distance to travel with some half-starved, zombie killing machine chasing after you.

  There was a chance that if we reached the pier, we could vanish amongst the buildings that seemed to crowd its surface, but that was no guarantee. At the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter if there was no boat waiting in that RNLI station.

  Another quick glance over the very edge of the window ledge before I slid back down to press my back against the wall once more, a frown forming. The creature might struggle to see, but it didn’t seem inclined to leave the plaza where it last had our scent.

  There was nothing between us and it. A couple of trees, a few benches covered in snow and nothing else. If we stepped outside or made any noise, we would have few options and none of them good.

  “What about the back?” Gregg whispered.

  I glanced over at him, considering a reply. He had pulled a fresh bandage out of his pack and was trying his best to stop the bleeding from Isaac’s wound.

  To get to the kitchen we would need to go through the swing door opposite where we sat with no idea what was lurking behind it. There would likely be a rear entrance, for regulations if nothing else, but there was no guarantee it would be unlocked.

  We might end up merely trapping ourselves in a smaller room with no real way out. Not an ideal situation. But, since there were few enough options, we might have to chance it.

  “Why not just wait?” Briony asked, speaking for the first time since we’d scurried for cover.

  “You can’t feel the cold,” I replied, quietly. “We can and we can’t stay sat in here without heat for long.”

  Which certainly limited our options. I could see our breath misting before us, all but Briony of course, and I was glad for the poor eyesight of the zombie out in the plaza.

  My gaze moved to Isaac again. His face pale and grimace of pain unchanged, I knew he would not be able to last for too much longer. If he cried out, we would be well and truly screwed.

  “Get ready to move,” I said, rising up to peer over the window ledge once more.

  “Why?” Gregg asked, voice a whisper laced with fear. I just grinned at him.

  The zombie wasn’t looking in our direction, not that I thought it could see me, but it felt a little better not to have it staring my way anyway. I rose to my feet and hurried across to the swing door.

  “Mate!” Gregg hissed.

  “I’ll meet you a
t the pier,” I said as I stepped through the door, weapon raised before me.

  The food preparation area was empty bar for past remnants of food, mould, dirt and what looked to be dried blood. That last having been spread across the rear wall in a wide arc, ending with a handprint beside the rear door.

  Trusting that any zombie that might have left that handprint would be long gone after two years, I reached for the push bar that locked the door, pressing down on it and pushing it open. It swung outwards with a bit of effort and an alarmingly loud creak.

  I stood, stock still, for a moment as I strained to hear the tell-tale sound of clinking metal that would indicate the zombie had heard. There was nothing but the wind for several long seconds and I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

  Snow filled the rear courtyard and there was little in the way of options for where I could go. The other buildings that formed the other two sides of the triangular space had similar doors to the one I had just opened, meaning no outside handles.

  It had been used to store the large metal bins where the days refuse would be discarded. Much of that rubbish had been long since buried by the snow, leaving lumpy mounds that I walked past carefully, loathe as I was to trip and fall not knowing what lurked beneath the snow.

  A wide alleyway at the end of the building to my right allowed me to head out to the street, just above the plaza where the zombie lurked. Not great, but somewhat gratifying to know that I had been right. Leaving by the rear entrance wouldn’t have been the best option for the others.

  Across the way was a mobile phone shop, the large white letters on the red sign proudly proclaiming the name of the company that no longer existed. I grinned at the thought as I began crossing the snow-covered street towards it.

  I kept my gaze fixed on the zombie, body tense as I watched for any sign that it had noticed me before I was ready for it. My options were severely limited, and I had no doubt that the damned creature would be able to reach me far too quickly for my liking.

  The door to the mobile phone shop was closed, though it opened when I pushed on it. Inside it was dark and cold, the display stands covered in dust and the phones sitting undisturbed. No wonder, considering that they would be much use to anyone in the near future. Hardly the first choice for looters.

 

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