Killing the Dead (Book 7): Burden of Survival

by Richard Murray

  I made a run for the bonfire, the men and women there were still armed from earlier. They were also closest to where the raft bearing the undead would hit the island. I waved my hammer at them as I ran and saw faces turn to me with looks of alarm.

  “What’s up?” asked Michelle. She had her club already to hand and was clearly ready to bash heads. She’d pulled off her parka due to being so close to the fire and she shivered in the cold wind. Her round face was framed by thick red curls and she wore a look of determination.

  “Another raft headed to the north end of the island.”

  “Seriously! Fuck,” Imran said. “How many?”

  I shrugged, “No idea. Just saw the raft.”

  “Gather up folks,” Michelle called. “If you ain’t got a weapon, head inside.”

  She nodded at me as two of the gathered people set off at a jog to the round house, while another five met them coming the other way. They each bore the same rough clubs that were easy to make and highly effective.

  They gathered around me and waited for instructions. Each of their faces showed determination as well as fear. I couldn’t have been any prouder of them than I was right then. My people, ready to fight to protect the community.

  “We should wait to gather some more people,” I said.

  “There’s enough of us here,” Michelle said. “We can’t let the bastards trample the fields with their filth.”

  Around me the gathered men and women nodded or voiced their agreement. This was their home and they wanted to defend it. I smiled grimly, so be it.

  “Stay together and watch out for one another,” I said. “We’ll go slow, towards the far north. It should take them some time to find their way off the raft but be careful.”

  A dozen voices raised in assent and I nodded firmly. We’d defend our home against whoever was sending these rafts and then when I found out who was behind it, there’d be a reckoning.

  I set a brisk pace while the men and women followed behind. They spread out in a line to cover as much area as they could. The spreading darkness would be a problem but we daren’t leave them wandering loose all through the night.

  “Anyone have a torch?” someone called as we entered the trees and two beams of light flashed on in response. It seemed at least two people had the foresight to bring flashlights.

  Beneath the tall oak trees the shadows were longer and I slowed my pace. Each tree was approached warily and rounded with weapon raised, ready to strike. From up ahead floated the moans of the undead and my jaw clenched as the tension rose.

  Out of the darkness they came, the first ones stumbling into view. Arms outstretched, skin greying and covered in wounds. What clothing they wore was torn and stained and each of them moaned the louder as they saw us.

  “Steady,” someone shouted.

  “Stay calm,” called another.

  “Watch yourself,” Michelle said just to my left and I saw movement from the corner of my eye as she pulled back on a man barely in his teens. Then they were on us and battle was joined.

  I swung with all my strength and struck one of the zombies on the side of its head. Its knees buckled but it still flailed its arms trying to reach me. I struck again and with a horrendous sound, the skull shattered and it died a final death.

  Cries of anger rose from my people as they set to the fight and someone screamed. I daren’t risk looking as I pushed away the foul grip of one of the undead and swung my hammer at it.

  A kick to the legs as I’d seen Ryan do so many times before and a zombie fell to be finished off by the man beside me. One, two, three strikes to the face of another before it fell at my feet. Another scream and cries of dismay from my right as a zombie collided with me.

  I fell back against a tree and grunted as something sharp scraped the skin of my back. My hand closed around the throat of the zombie as I pushed with all my strength to keep its foul teeth from my flesh. The claw end of my hammer tore away a large part of its cheek as the rotten flesh of its neck gave way and my hand sank into it.

  The taste of vomit filled my mouth as my fingers met its spine and I gagged. I struck it again with the hammer and then another time before it died. I tried not to see the mess that covered my hand as I searched for the next enemy.

  Through the trees more were coming, the moans were rising in volume as more came through the trees. How many are there?

  “Back, out of the trees,” I called as another scream pierced the night air.

  “There’s too many,” Michelle cried and I couldn’t really argue as I slammed my hammer into another skull.

  There were far more than had arrived on the earlier raft. I had to concede it was less an act of malice and more of an outright attack on our home. My arm was aching as I swung yet again at a zombie that came from behind a tree and then I was out into the clearing with the bonfire burning brightly.

  “Damn…” someone said.

  Moving through the trees from the eastern side of the island were more of the undead. Ten, twenty, maybe thirty I thought as I did a quick count. Too many for my small group to deal with. I couldn’t see us reaching the house before them either, we were cut off.

  “We have to make a run for it,” a male voice said.

  “Won’t make it,” that was Michelle.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “We can’t let them get to the house. If they get in, our families and friends will die.”

  The undead from the east had noticed our presence and were slowly turning towards us. They were slow but tireless and those from the north were making their way from out of the trees. I made a decision.

  “Kill any coming out of the trees,” I said. “We have just minutes before the others reach us.”

  Faces around me showed fear but no panic. These people were survivors. Determination filled them as they readied their weapons.

  “If we die, it’ll be protecting our families,” Imran said.

  “Balls to dying,” Michelle snapped. “Kill the bastards and live.”

  With a scream full of savage rage she ran at the approaching undead, her club raised above her head. Her first blow knocked the zombie two feet to the side with its force and it died silently. I raised a smile at her ferocity and joined the fray.

  I ducked and swayed around the slower moving enemy as I lashed out with my hammer. Not every blow struck true but first one, then another fell.

  A hand grabbed my ankle and I stumbled, falling to my knees as rotted teeth bit down on my leg. With a scream of hatred I kicked out and heard bone crack. With no time to check to see if it’d broken my skin, I pushed myself to my feet and looked for the next to kill.

  “They’re all down,” I called.

  “More coming though,” Michelle said through clenched teeth.

  My heart sank almost to my stomach as I saw the blood seeping from the wound on her wrist. She grunted and shrugged.

  “Had to happen sometime.”

  “We could take your arm…”

  “Nah, infection would likely kill me,” she said. She tilted her head and pointed at the approaching zombies with her chin. “Better to die fighting these bastards.”

  I did a quick count and found only eight of my people remaining and I swallowed a bitter taste in my mouth. Three people had died already and at least one was infected. It was nothing short of a catastrophe.

  “No,” Michelle said and I turned to her to see more zombies arriving from the trees to the east. Too many to deal with, too many to fight and we were cut off from the round house. Cries of dismay rose around me and I gripped the handle of my hammer tightly as I readied myself to take as many of the zombies with me as I could. I just wished Ryan could have been there beside me.

  The undead attacked in a chaotic mass, no order, no reason to their actions. They scrambled and pushed against each other to get to us. Five died immediately beneath crushing blows from rough-hewn clubs.

  Imran was the first to fall as two
zombies latched on to him. One pulling him over as the other tore at his face with gore streaked hands. Even if I hadn’t seen him die, the infection from such wounds would have caused him to turn.

  Michelle screamed her rage with every strike and I found myself doing the same. Swinging blow after blow against grey flesh. I used fist and feet to strike at them in any way I could but it wasn’t enough. They just kept coming.

  I struggled to escape the grasp of a zombie and keep it between me and another that seemed determined to feed on me. I swung it around and yelped in surprise when its head burst open. The sound of the shot that had killed if followed after.

  More shots were fired and the undead fell. I had a moment to see a line of our people standing on the roof, rifles resting on the parapet as they fired down into the crowd. The roundhouse doors opened and out spilled a group of armed men and women led by Cass.

  Suddenly caught between two groups with rifles taking down several of their number, the zombies wavered as though unsure which of us to go for. They settled for the closest and turned their backs on the approaching group.

  “Pull back,” I shouted as loud as I could. “Let them follow and keep them at arm’s length.”

  The few remaining members of my group heard and obeyed as they slowly retreated towards the trees, the zombies stumbling after, their passage slowed by the dead on the ground that they struggled to get over.

  With cries of anger and loss, the second group caught up with the undead and struck at their rear as the rifles fell silent. I grinned and struck another zombie with my hammer. We had a chance.

  Chapter 13

  Ryan

  My companions ate their meal and talked quietly for a while as the fire burned down low. Pat and Gregg, good friends that they were, both checked on me frequently. Gregg brought me some food that remained untouched on the plate and later, Pat removed it.

  Jenny looked in on me though that felt more like she was just checking I was still present in the house. She had no real care whether I was ‘okay’ like the others did. I appreciated that.

  I had a need and a real desire to be alone, to avoid the temptation of being around others. In my mind I went through all the different ways I could kill each of them and make it seem an accident. That wouldn’t quite do it though. I needed to see the fear, to feel my knife entering flesh as the joy surged through me.

  No. If I were to kill someone and I would need to do so, it would be done the way I most enjoyed it. No more accidents, no more sneaking around as I skirted the very edge of the line created by my promise to Lily. I needed to be me again.

  In silence I waited, huddled in the dark corner of the room. Wary of moving as that would create momentum and without a real purpose to those movements, I could see them ending in the deaths of all of my friends.

  They settled down to sleep, their voices dropped low and eventually silent. The few flickering embers in the fireplace provided the only light as I rose to my feet.

  Without breaking the silence in the house I crossed the room and paused by the door to the living room. Three figures lay close to each other, wrapped in whatever shreds of musty blankets they could find.

  By the size of the shadowed form I could see that Pat had drawn the first watch. He hovered by the window, eyes focused on the world beyond the house. His heavy lump hammer was held casually as though it weighed nothing. To him it likely did.

  I moved through the house as a wraith, silent and unseen. The key to the backdoor hung from a hook on the kitchen wall. I’d known that because I’d hung it there earlier after ensuring the door was locked.

  With a click that made me pause as I listened for any indication that Pat had heard, I turned the key in the lock. When he didn’t come running I slipped out through the opened door and into the cold night air.

  Before I closed the door, I slipped the key out of the lock. Lily would be disappointed if I left the others in the house with an open door. I quietly locked it behind me and slipped the key into my pocket with one hand as I pulled free my knife with the other.

  As I walked through the woods, the only sound was that of the heavy rain hitting the leaves above my head. It was almost soothing, though I would have preferred a clear sky and moonlight to see by.

  The need burned within me. That cavernous hollow had sucked in all that made me a person and left behind only the killer. I needed to leave my friends far behind. The need would not be ignored but I had some hope of salving it for just a little while, long enough to find suitable prey.

  I heard the sounds of their feet on the road as they shuffled along, even above the rain. Though that did help keep the stench down a little. I smiled grimly in the darkness as the first of the shadowed forms came into view through the trees.

  Killing them would bring no real joy, but alone in the darkness, with every hand turned against me and the odds of surviving too low for most… well, it may be enough to save my friends from me.

  Without words or battle cry I was upon them, my blade striking fast as an adder and just as deadly. The first fell without a sound other than that of cracking bone and the slurp of my blade as it was pulled free of their skull.

  In shadow I moved between them, swift and lethal. A strike here, a blow there. A kick, two punches, one strike and another fell. I sliced my blade through muscle and tendon, I used elbow and fist, knee and booted foot.

  Far too soon I was done, alone in the road with just the dead surrounding me. With heavy breath I stood and listened for the sounds of life and found nothing. A half dozen corpses to cast into that hole that claimed me and still it demanded more. I began to walk.

  It wasn’t long before I found traces of another group ahead of me. Larger than the last, even the rain couldn’t keep down their foul odour. My breathing was shallow as my heart began to beat faster, excitement growing.

  Too many for one person to handle, I could see that from the mass of shapes that filled the road. To dive amongst them would mean certain death and that filled me with excitement. The hollow space seemed eager for me to fill it with their deaths.

  I reversed my knife and slammed the blade through the back of a skull. I yanked it back out before striking to my right as I kicked out at the one I had just killed, knocking it into its brethren.

  Foul hands sought me, their claw like fingers raked my coat. I struck again and again, my arm tireless so long as the need went unfulfilled. Rain soaked me to my skin and ran into my eyes as I leapt back and then to the side. Away from grasping hands as my blade plunged into another rotting body.

  Moans rose around me as I backed away from the road, into the trees as the undead followed. I used my speed and agility to good effect to dash from one slow, stumbling form to another. The trees became my shield. I’d duck behind one to emerge from the opposite side and strike at my enemy.

  I killed and I killed, over and over again. Laughter echoed through the trees, entwining with the moans of the undead and I realised it came from me. I grinned as I struck at another and as three collided with me, I fell to the muddy forest floor.

  Teeth clamped down on my jacket, the material tearing and I kicked and shoved at the zombies atop me as they clawed at my clothes, seeking to reach through to the skin beneath. My blade sliced open the cheek of the zombie chewing at my jacket, too stupid to realise it wasn’t skin.

  Even so, it had my arm and I couldn’t get the right angle to actually kill it. Twigs snapped and the moans increased in volume as more of them came closer. I pulled my arm away from the zombie but it had clamped down with its teeth and refused to let go.

  Then a heavy lump hammer collided with its skull and tore away the jaw. It fell to the right and with my arm free I stabbed straight into the face of the second zombie that was on top of me as the reverse swing from the hammer took the third.

  A hand grasped my jacket collar and dragged me upright with impressive strength as the hammer seemed to almost fly past me to strike the skull of an
other approaching zombie.

  “Run,” Pat snarled as he shoved me away.

  I hesitated and his hand closed around my arm as he pulled me away with him. Almost dragging me from the chaos, blood and death that I so sorely needed. I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong and I had to concentrate on not lashing out with my blade. She’d be upset if I did.

  Pat half dragged me through the trees as the sounds died down behind us. The zombies soon lost us in the driving rain and darkness. He refused to let go even after the undead were long gone.

  In silence we arrived back at the house and with hand still holding tight to my arm, he guided me around the side of the building to the back door. The kitchen window was open and Gregg peered out as we arrived.

  “What were you thinking?” Pat said in a whisper.

  I shrugged as I put away my knife. The hollow remained and if I left it out the chance of it being used was too high.

  “He hurt?” Gregg asked.

  “Well?”

  “Don’t think so,” I said.

  “Pass me your torch,” Pat instructed Gregg.

  The younger man passed a small black cylinder through the window to Pat who flicked a button on the side and a weak beam of light shone forth. It wasn’t a particularly powerful torch and I assumed that was for the best as it would be less likely to be noticed.

  He held it close to me as he moved the torch across my body, as much to see properly as to hide as much of the light as possible. His fingers probed a hole that had been torn in the sleeve of my jacket and he grunted as he pressed down on my skin. After he was done he switched the torch off.

  “You’re one lucky idiot,” he said. “Why did you do it?”

  I shrugged again in the darkness, aware that he wouldn’t see it clearly and not caring. I had no need to explain myself to him, no need to describe the hole inside of myself that I had to fill somehow. If I couldn’t take the living, I’d have to fill it with a mountain of the undead.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded in a heavy whisper. “If I hadn’t noticed you were leaving we might never have found you.”