Legion of the Undead

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Legion of the Undead Page 10

by Michael Whitehead


  Still, Rosa was old enough to know that the young woman still had growing up to do. She may be old enough to have a child of her own but she didn’t see that we never really grow up, we just grow old. Didn’t Rosa feel like a child sometimes? In those moments when her bones didn’t ache and the scent of spring made her feel like a young girl again. She had once asked her own mother when it was that she had felt like a grown up. Her mother, a beauty herself, had smiled her secret smile and whispered that she was still waiting for it to happen.

  How could Lucia not see that this was a job for the men? She was a slip of a girl and it was madness for her to go out there with those……...things.”

  She turned to the new overseer. She had spoken to him when he arrived at the villa. She liked to size up the men to see if they would be trouble for Lucia. He had seemed like nice enough young but now he was going to be the only thing between those things and her baby girl. Rosa certainly didn’t know him well enough to put that much trust in him.

  “If you let anything happen to her, you had better stay out there and let those things get you. Do you hear me?” She spoke quietly but with a force that made him step back from her.

  “I will put my life between her and any trouble, I swear it.” He said, holding up his hands as if to ward off her blows.

  “She is my world, and I will not see her come to harm.” Rosa started crying again, and had no shame in him seeing her tears.

  “You must see she needs to do this though. It’s tearing her apart sitting here.”

  Rosa had slumped a little, because she knew he was right. Lucia was headstrong and determined and it was part of what made her so beautiful. Rosa knew she couldn’t stand in her way.

  She moved over to the corner where Lucia was gathering herself together, and pulled her to her feet. She held her face between her hands and kissed her on the nose.

  “Don’t you dare do anything stupid or brave, you hear me child? You come back to me in one piece, with everything still in the right place, do you hear me?”

  “I promise, Rosa. I really do. If we get into any trouble, I will turn tail and run.”

  Rosa looked Lucia in the eyes, gods but the girl was so tall now. Once she had bounced her on her knee and sang to her, and now she had to use her toes just to kiss her.

  “I love you, Lucia.”

  “I love you too, dear Rosa. Now go and feed the children, I’ll be back soon.”

  Lucia gripped the handle of the knife until her knuckles were white. She had been given the weapon by Maria's son. He had looked sicker than ever, and shamed that he wasn’t going with them. The blade was long and wickedly sharp, and she held it before her chest. Livius took her fingers and gently loosened them.

  “Try to relax, you won’t move fast enough if you are tense.”

  Lucia fought hard to make herself loose. This was just like hunting, she told herself. Only this time, instead of foxes and boar, they were hunting something that could hunt them back. Her fingers loosened their grip on the handle of the knife and she took a deep breath.

  They pushed the door open the faintest crack. The hallway was lit by the merest hint of evening sun and silence reigned. They opened the door further and found the place empty. Livius had told her that he had seen the creatures walk with a dozen stab wounds in them, but fall to one blow to the head, so she held her blade high, ready to strike.

  They rounded the next corner and found the front hall was also empty, save for the silver plate that had proved so useful last time.

  They checked the final corner before the culina and saw that the door at the end of the passage was closed. Lucia doubted the creatures would have closed it themselves so assumed that the wind coming through the broken culina window had blown it shut.

  Livius tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped at the touch and almost cried out. He looked apologetic as her heart raced in her chest. He signalled to the front door and raised his hands in question. She nodded, no point opening a door behind which they knew danger waited.

  They chanced a look through the high window that flanked the front door. There were no creatures in sight but a shadow, lengthened by the evening light, moved to their left. They carefully slid back the large iron bolt that locked the front door and eased it open. Three of the creatures were shuffling aimlessly backwards and forward. They eased the door closed again and Livius whispered to Lucia.

  “Three of them, I don't think we can easily sneak past them. Are you ready to fight?”

  She swallowed dryly and nodded her head.

  “You take the one on the right, I’ll take the other two. Don’t shout as you attack, and don’t worry about making it pretty, just a quick in and out of his head will do. You sure you’re ready?”

  She nodded again, “Just give me a second and I’ll be fine.” She took a couple of deep breaths and signalled she was good to go.

  Livius waited until two out of the three were facing away from them and swung the door silently open. He raised his own blade to the Risen in the center, the one who was looking at them. It barely had time to register it was in trouble before it collapsed to the ground in a heap. Lucia stepped up behind the second one and stuck her blade up into its brain from the base of its skull. She had to be quick to pull the blade back before it was ripped from her grasp by the creature's weight as it fell.

  The third turned much quicker than Livius had suspected it would, and was reaching for him before he had time to strike. His blow glanced off the side of the Risen’s face, cutting a deep wound that left a large flap of cheek stuck to its jaw line.

  He spun to free himself from the monster's grip but the hands were massively strong. It reached in with its mouth to bite at his forearm.

  Lucia saw this unfold and struck with her knife, driving the blade through the dead things temple. Livius stepped back as the rotting hand released his wrist and, breathing heavily, mouthed, “Thank you,” to Lucia.

  They both took a quick look around to see if the fight had attracted any more of the things. The small garden in front of the house was thick with bodies, as was the yard inside the gate, but nothing moved.

  Lucia signalled that they should move across the yard towards the large grain silos and the barn beyond. They stopped before they passed the broken gate, checking with the mirrored plate to see if they were going to be seen. The reflection, warped as it was, only told them it was clear just outside the opening so they risked a low run and passed the gap.

  The area before the silo was littered with more bodies and a large number of creatures. Most were feeding on the dead, while a few were struggling to move with various injuries. One of them was dragging itself along with no legs. Its insides trailed out behind it and it looked as if it had been pulled to pieces. Every now and again it stopped as its hands slipped on the loose gravel of the yard and its face slammed into the ground.

  Lucia felt her insides drop with a hollow, sinking, feeling as she watched the scene. The pure horror of it threatened to overwhelm her as she felt Livius put his hand on her arm in an effort to comfort her. She felt steadied by the worldly feel of his touch set against the otherworldly sight of the monsters before them.

  There was an open space of maybe thirty paces, that they would have to pass in order to go behind the silos and check the large barn beyond. It seemed impossible that they could cross the gap without being seen at all, then Lucia felt the silver plate she had tucked into the back of her tunic belt. She motioned to Livius to give her some room. Taking the plate in the style of the old Greek discus throwers, launched it over the heads of the feasting creatures.

  The clatter the plate made as it hit the concrete floor beyond was tremendous. Several of the monsters, who were not feeding, set off immediately in that direction. Those that were eating showed no sign of interest and returned to gorging themselves on the dead flesh before them.

  The two of them took their chance and walking, not running through fear of making too much noise, passed the creatures unnoti
ced.

  Livius raised his eyebrows at her and mimed wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. They slowly made their way round the grain silos and to the back of the barn.

  The area was free of bodies, but one female creature stood looking up at the lowering sun. She looked to Lucia as if she were trying to remember the life she had lived before it had been snatched away. Lucia followed Livius through the small door at the back of the barn without being seen.

  The space was empty of life. Farming equipment and sacks of seed and fertiliser took up room but other than that, the barn was unoccupied. Lucia swore under her breath, her great hope that her father was alive and hiding in here had taken on an inevitability in her mind until this moment. She had been sure she would find him, the hope had given her strength and now she felt that strength leaving her. She felt like lying down, just giving herself over to despair. She even went so far as to sit down on the packed ground beneath her, before Livius could stop her.

  He leaned down and whispered to her. “Do not give up on me now, Lucia. I need you. You are the only other person I can rely on to be strong and help me save those women and children in the villa. I know you wanted to find your father in here, but there are dozens of other places he might be.” He didn't wait for an answer but put his hand under her arm and lifted her to her feet.

  It was then that the world around them broke into chaos. Almost at the same time that Rosa screamed so loud they heard it in the barn, loud male voices shouted just outside in the yard. Someone was yelling orders to attack and the harsh, metallic sounds of fighting broke out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  At first the killing was easy. The Risen came at them in ones and twos. The men made sport of it, competing with each other to demonstrate their skill and prowess. Vitus had taken his lead from Bactus, as the senior officer, and allowed it.

  The men needed to practice killing this new enemy and the dominance of the Romans became cathartic. After days of running and hiding, after the losses they had endured, it was only right to give the men a measure of revenge.

  The younger men in particular made a game of it. Regulus was eager to make his name and stepped forward to meet as many Risen as the rules of the makeshift game allowed. No-one doubted his bravery, and after the first couple of hours, nobody doubted his skill either. His moment had come when he had turned his back on a female Risen and driven a spear over his shoulder and into her face.

  The men had since made him their mascot. The killer of the dead. He even begun to march with a swagger that made both Vitus and Bactus laugh.

  As the day wore on, the groups had become bigger and the game had become more serious. As they left camp the following morning the killing had ceased to be a game. The first group they encountered had numbered over a hundred.

  Matched in force, the legionaries had resorted back to shield wall tactics and the archers had drawn bows. They took their cue from the formation the men in camp had used. A wall that stepped backwards as the dead leapt at them. It took away the greater power of attack from above and gave the wall more stability. The archers picked targets carefully and at the end of the fight the losses were kept to a single man.

  As the arrows were collected and cleaned by the auxiliaries, Antonius commented on the Risen.

  “They all look like they came from the same tribe, Germani I mean. Look at the face paint.”

  Vitus had seen the blue and red dye the dead wore on their faces. They looked like a tribe ready for war. As if death had found them all at once. Even the women were dressed in leather armour and war paint.

  “Do you think they were caught in battle, like the legions?” Mused Bactus, as he came up behind Vitus.

  “If they were, they were winning,” said Vitus. “None of the wounds they have look like they were inflicted before they died. Think back to the camp. The Risen outside the wall had all kinds of battle wounds.”

  Bactus looked again. “You’ve got good eyes, Proctus. You thought of becoming an archer?” He laughed, and Vitus joined in.

  “Call me Vitus, I could never get used to people calling me Protus. Only from the top brass, and only because I had to.”

  “If you insist, Vitus,” Bactus said with a shrug, “Vespas always said you were a contrary fucker.”

  “Did he tell you about my reputation with the ladies and my ability to drink any man under the table, as well?” Vitus asked as they walked away from the bodies, leaving the men to finish the job of collecting arrows.

  “I don’t recall that he did, no. Mind you, he was always an honest kind of man. Now, where has that scout got to?” Bactus replied, walking away before Vitus could get the last word.

  The scout was busy checking his hand drawn maps of the area. His journey from the estate had been as direct as he could make it back to the legions. However, due to the fact that the legions were moving at the time, this journey to the estate was over fresh ground. Rather than heading directly west, the scout was sure they needed to turn north west, which would carry them through woodland.

  “The question is,” Vitus began, “do we want to get caught in a fight in unfamiliar forested ground? Do we go the longer way round and stay out in the open?”

  “It’s a fair question,” answered Bactus. “How far are we talking about to this estate, and just how overrun was it? There is no point rushing ourselves into a situation we can’t manage for a bunch of useless buildings.”

  The scout looked like a deer caught between two wolves. He was a thin, ratty looking man who was used to giving information, but not being included in the decisions that led from it.

  “I don’t know what to do about the estate, sir. The place was covered in those Risen things but I can’t say one way or the other if there were people still alive. I mean, I’m certain those things must have got some of them but...”

  Bactus nodded and put a hand on the man's shoulder. “Alright, fair enough. How far are we talking, one way or the other?”

  “Straight line, through the trees? Five miles. West then north? Seven maybe, but it’s better land. We can move quicker.”

  The scout looked eager not to be travelling through woodland, even surrounded by more than a hundred legionaries and archers.

  Vitus looked at Bactus, “What do you think?”

  Bactus thought for a second, “Never did like the woods. Open ground it is.”

  The final miles to the estate were mercifully quiet, save for one thing. As the legionaries reached the road and turned north they came to a crossroad.

  It wasn’t uncommon to find criminals and the like, tied or caged at such crossings of the ways. On rarer instances, the bodies of executed men could be seen.

  It appeared at first glance that they were approaching one such body as they marched towards this crossroads. A few hundred yards ahead, hanging by his wrists, was the legless body of a man tied to a hanging post. He swayed in the breeze and gently turned.

  It wasn’t until they were almost upon him that they realised, despite the loss of his legs, the man was still alive. A second look told the full story, that the man wasn’t alive at all but was in fact one of the Risen.

  He was obviously a Germani villager of some sort, his clothes and hair told them that much. He rotated on his cords, snarling and gnashing his teeth at them.

  It took Vitus a few minutes to realise what had happened to him. He had obviously been left hanging for some unknown crime when he had been discovered by the Risen.

  Those flesh eaters had feasted on the reachable parts of his legs. He shuddered to think of the man trying to lift his legs out of their reach and inevitably failing. He would have had to endure the agony of having his lower legs eaten away, only to die and become one of the very beasts that had eaten him.

  Antonius stepped forward with a spear and tried to put the thing out of its misery. The spear point, however, did little more than turn the Risen in a tight circle. This prompted a round of laughing from the men behind him.

  Ant
onius cursed them with a grin and stepped back, away from the hanging body. He unhooked his bow from his back and took a second to attach the string.

  Some men marched with the string in pace but many detached them to save the cord from stretching, especially in wet weather.

  He drew and nocked an arrow and waited. The men watching him seemed to hold their breath in time with Antonius. The legless body swayed and turned in the breeze, when it was facing Antonius he loosed his arrow.

  They watched it find its mark in the Risen's bloodshot eye. The body grew limp and Antonius quietly unstrung his bow. The men who had been laughing a moment before walked away without comment. More than a couple nodded and smiled to themselves.

  They continued along the road with more caution, after this. The road was still surprisingly empty after the encounters early in the journey. The reason for this was becoming evident as they approached the estate. The gate to this road was a massive wrought iron thing, which was locked against the world.

  The estate was vast. It stretched for miles in front and behind a magnificent villa of white stone that stood out like a jewel on a carpet of greens and gold. Wheat and other crops lay for as far as the eye could see in massive fields.

  The villa stood inside a large brick wall that also encased large silos and barns. Vitus could see two stables inside the walls and many small, outlying buildings among the fields.

  Looking like working slaves, except for the way they moved, were at least a couple of hundred Risen, possibly many more. It was difficult to count them as they moved about. Those on the outskirts of the estate moved along a wooden boundary fence, past the large, iron gate that marked the nearest boundary to the legionaries.

  A broken line of them was moving along the fence and filtering out of a smaller gate in the west part of the fence. The gate was easily half a mile away, possibly more. Vitus found it interesting to watch. None of them tried to get through the fence, rather they followed the group like sheep until they stumbled on the exit. Then they fed out into the surrounding woodland. He couldn’t know how many had left through this gate but was sure they would have met a number of them had they approached through the forest.

 

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