His lips twisted as he looked at each of his companions in turn and his cheeks turned crimson as I held back a grin.
“Gather up those bloody knives!” he snapped at his companions. “The rest of you follow me.”
I ignored the icy wind that was blowing in off the sea, the dark waves surging as a storm began to brew. My focus was on the pier and the buildings that we passed as we walked its length.
A café and another arcade, though that one smaller than the main building back where the pier connected to the mainland. A tiny coffee hut sat between the two and beyond them, some public toilets.
Rising up, just behind, was a building replete with several large metal poles rising into the air. It opened at the rear to a ramp that led down into the water beside the pier. That then would be the RNLI station where we hoped to find a boat.
At the far end, the pier opened up, spreading outwards into a kite-shaped area with a large building in the very centre and plenty of seating around the outside. Clearly, a place where tourists could sit and stare out over the waters, enjoying their visit.
The building itself appeared to have been used for several different things. A bar at the rear with a stage and seating area for those attending the shows that were, judging from the faded posters, quite popular.
For the front half, it had been used as an aquarium. A large painted sign proclaimed quite proudly that there were a whole host of varied and wondrous sea creatures inside. I didn’t believe for one moment that those sea creatures would still be there, not with hungry survivors seeking refuge on the pier.
Our new friend, or potential captor, led us towards the door to the aquarium. It made sense since the walls of that part of the building were solid with little in the way of windows where light could escape and reveal their camp. Unlike the bar/stage area which was lined with tall, clear, windows all along the length.
Clearly, the small group were not entirely inept. As was proven once more when we walked through the reception area of the aquarium and into the rear, which was surprisingly well lit.
Lanterns, solar powered by the looks, sat on every surface, lighting the room. I guessed that they had a second lot of them that were outside, charging, while those inside were being used. They would then be swapped over when those inside began to lose their stored power.
Another four people lounged around the area, between the large, empty, tanks. Blankets and sleeping bags lay all around, along with boxes of tinned food and bottled water. Fish, likely caught from the sea, were being cleaned over a tank of water towards the rear.
The man cleaning them had skin darker than Greggs and a pleasant demeanour. A wide smile grew as he spotted us, and he pulled off the gloves he was wearing while cleaning the fish and came over towards us.
“New guys! Wow, it’s been so long, man. How ya doin?”
His accent was decidedly southern. A cross between cockney and Essex. It grated on my nerves immediately and reminded me just how much I despised it.
“They come from the chopper?” a young woman asked.
She wore glasses and had her ginger hair in a tight braid that she tugged on as she watched us, somewhat warily. Her skin was pale, and she wore more clothes than was required even for the cold. That suggested something to me that set my pulse to racing.
“What chopper?”
Another man, this one older with a thick beard and round face. He’d clearly been fat at one point and his wrinkled skin sagged. His jowls moving as he spoke.
“Heard it earlier, mate,” the dark-skinned man said. “Archie saw it fly over the town.”
“Perhaps introductions are in order,” the final man said. “I’m Steven, pleased to meet you.”
He was dangerous.
I couldn’t exactly say why that was the case, but I was sure of it. He was as slim as the others but as he moved across the floor, hand extended to shake, the hairs on the back of my neck rose up. He moved like a snake, all sinuous, smooth motions, eyes barely blinking.
There was a darkness in them that I recognised, a need for violence, for death. He wasn’t quite like me, I was sure of that, but he wasn’t a nice man in any way. No matter how smooth his voice, how polite the smile he wore.
No, he was dangerous indeed.
“Archie’s the lad you met outside,” the man with the spear-gun said. “Millie too. I’m Alan and these are…”
“Matthew, you can call me, Matt,” the dark-skinned man said.
“Terry,” the remaining man offered timidly.
“Sally,” the final member of the group offered.
I stood in silence for a moment, and realising that I wasn’t about to speak, Gregg offered a brief introduction for each of us.
“Now that’s out of the way, you mind if our friend sits down so I can check his wound?”
“Nah, mate. Over here, there’s some space,” Matt said, hurrying to help.
“Just the seven of you?” I asked, voice sounding too loud in the silence that followed as we watched the two men half carry Isaac across the room.
“Yes. I’m afraid there’s just been us for quite some time now. To be honest, I wasn’t sure we’d ever meet anyone else, and-“
“There’ll be time for that later,” Alan said, cutting off the older Terry. “For now, we need to know, are you a threat to us?”
“If we are?” I asked with a wicked grin.
“Then you can’t stay here, I’m afraid,” Steven said, bending at the waist as he tried to peer into Briony’s hood. “You’re a shy one, aren’t you?”
“She is,” I said. “We’re no threat to you, we’re just passing through.”
“We can offer you a place to stay for the night,” Alan said. “But little more than that, I’m afraid. Times are hard and while the town’s easier to search these days, there’s not much to be found.”
“Why is it easier now?” Briony asked, hooded face turning towards the leader of the group.
“Most of the zombies have died or buggered off somewhere else,” Matt called, from where he stood watching Gregg work. “Only had to deal with a couple the last time I went out.”
“You might want to be careful,” Gregg suggested. He pulled back the bandage from Isaac’s leg and grimaced. “There’s a zombie out there now. Bloody helicopter dropped it off and it’s a nasty bastard.”
“There was a helicopter then!” Terry exclaimed excitedly. “That means there’s people that are organised! I told you there would be-“
“Yes, yes. Enough, you old fool,” Steven snarled.
He hadn’t stopped trying to catch a glimpse of Briony and there was a hunger in his eyes that suggested I could kill him without breaking a promise.
“Perhaps there’s a few things you can tell us about who you are and where you’re from,” Alan said, avoiding looking at Steven. That suggested there was not such a clear-cut hierarchy as I had suspected. “We’d love to hear what’s happened in the rest of the world. Anything you can tell us would be fantastic.”
“You haven’t heard?” I asked, and the group turned to look at me as though I were a fool. “On the radio. I saw the antenna on the building by the toilets.”
“Oh, that! No, we couldn’t get it to work. Why? What should we have heard?”
“I’ll let Gregg tell you later,” I said with a sinking feeling. “You sure the radio doesn’t work? We could use it.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Alan said. “if you think you can fix it.”
I couldn’t, but Isaac could, which meant that he needed to survive. It was a wound to the leg which wouldn’t necessarily be fatal. There was the issue of infection of course and he was pretty much done when it came to a fight, but if he could get the radio working for us while we checked on the boat, he could still be useful.
Of course, if necessary, I could always just have Briony bite him. That way he would be as undead as she was, and the wound would heal.
“Why, might we ask, are you needing a radio?” Steven asked, le
aning in slightly, towards me.
A valid question. Judging by what we had just encountered, I was expecting stiff resistance in London and with just me, Gregg and Briony, we couldn’t make it. I was realist enough to know that and not too proud to ask Lily when her troops would be arriving.
“Just want to reach out to some friends,” I said with a smile. “Just some friends.”
Chapter 15
The new group of survivors were more than a little cagey with us. It didn’t help that they seemed to be a little put out by the wound Isaac bore. There was much muttering and sideways glances at him as they couldn’t seem to shake the suspicion that he was infected or about to die.
Understandable, of course. If he died, he would turn and then go after each of them. They would be foolish indeed not to be wary. But it wasn’t just that. There was something else at play and I wasn’t quite capable of figuring out what that would be.
Lily would have been able to. I had no doubt about that. She’d have everyone pegged within a few minutes of meeting them. She would understand the subtle interplay between each of the people in a way that I never could.
It was one of her many talents and one that I truly missed in such situations. As it was, I was forced to sit there beside a still somewhat fishy-smelling tank as I tried to figure it out for myself.
Steven was a problem, I knew that straight away. The others seemed content to allow Briony her privacy with little more than raised glances, but he kept trying to see her face. When he asked questions, they were directed at her.
I felt no particular urge to be protective towards her, but I couldn’t have him screwing things up by discovering her state. This meant that I had to spend an inordinate amount of time monitoring their interactions.
Briony, in turn, seemed to understand the potential for problems and remained close to me. This gave the impression that we were together, which allowed the new people to assume that was why she was being so shy.
“This helicopter,” Terry pressed for perhaps the seventh time in as many minutes. “What do you know about it?”
“They aren’t bloody friendly,” Gregg replied.
He’d finally satisfied himself with the patch job he’d done on Isaac’s leg and had settled close to the former mercenary so that he would be available should he be needed.
“Dropped that zombie on us,” he added with a dark look. He trailed off as I glared at him but the damage was done.
“Why would they drop a zombie?” Alan asked, interest piqued.
“They are the ones that created the zombies,” I admitted, scowling at Gregg. “The new ones they are dropping seem to be a test of sorts.”
“What do you mean a test?” Sally asked, in that timid manner of hers. It was almost like she was afraid to speak up too much as it could attract attention to her.
That was telling and along with her apparent need to wear more layers of clothing than even the cold weather demanded, hiding every inch of her bare flesh, I suspected that five men and two women was not too pleasant for the women.
“These new zombies are faster than even Reapers,” I said and noted their blank looks. “We’ve previously seen three types of zombie. Slow and stupid, Shamblers. Faster, more aggressive, Ferals and the Reapers, those that are way past looking human.”
“Interesting names,” Steven said, somewhat snidely. “Who chose them?”
I ignored him and continued, “the newest ones are like the Reapers, but have armoured plating bolted to their flesh. There’s very little in the way of vulnerable areas.”
“Why would they create those?” Sally asked, tugging on her braid.
“To eradicate any survivors,” I answered with a shrug of my shoulders. “Once all the survivors are dead, the zombies will die out and Genpact can leave their bunkers and claim the world as their own.”
“Genpact?”
“Bunkers?”
I held back another sigh and explained, briefly, about Genpact. How they had architected the end of the world and hunkered down in bunkers to wait it out. I told them of our own fight with them and the island we called home.
They were suitably impressed, and I could almost see them warming to us. We were suddenly no longer random survivors that might take their food, but their saviours, the people with the ability to take them away from the horrors of the past two years.
“That’s quite a story,” Steven said. “If it is true, of course.”
“It’s true,” Gregg said, voice taut with anger. “Everything Ryan just told you is the absolute truth.”
Not that it mattered. If we couldn’t get the radio to work then we couldn’t do much about helping anyone. That zombie out in the town wasn’t going away and if we left the relative safety of the pier, then we would be in danger.
Added to that was the fact that Genpact wouldn’t give up. They knew we were here, and I was pretty sure that the next helicopter they sent out would contain a squad of their mercenaries instead of another zombie.
As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Lily’s CDF and my own minions. Without them, our chances of getting through London were slim and actually defeating Genpact, well, I wouldn’t bet on those odds at all.
“When can you try and fix this radio?” I asked Isaac, who growled a response.
“I can try now, Clever Bastard. Not gonna sleep without pain meds anyway.”
“Do so, then.”
Gregg shot me a dark look but rose to his feet to help Isaac up, while on the other side, Matt did the same.
The two men helped him walk as best he could, limping all the while. They headed back through the door we’d entered by and I tapped my leg idly as I stared at the other survivors. They seemed harmless enough, for the most part, but I still wasn’t quite ready to trust them.
I glanced at the two girls, both of whom were making an effort to sit a little further away from everyone else without seeming to be isolating themselves.
“What’s the deal here?” I asked into the silence. “Do you take it in turns or…”
“What?” Alan looked confused for just a moment but then his cheeks heated as I nodded at the two women. “Here now!”
“There’s a rota,” Steven said, with a conspiratorial smile. His eyes met mine and I suspected he saw a kinship of sorts. He was wrong. “It seemed like the best solution at the time.”
“Best for you lot,” Millie snarled.
“You were forced?” I asked, heartbeat quickening. I could kill them with the hidden weapons I had, I was sure of that.
“Not forced, no,” Sally said, looking at the other woman. She pursed her lips and looked down at her lap. “We all need to contribute.”
“Contribute? What does that mean?”
“It means,” Steven said with that same snake-like smile. “That if you aren’t willing to go out and face the zombies while searching for food, or do any of the other dirty jobs, then you need to find another way to pay for your keep.”
I glanced at the women once more but neither would meet my eyes. Not exactly forced then but not fully their choice. Everyone needed to contribute to survival, sure, but if your only choices were to go out and fight the zombies or pay for your keep on your back… well, that wasn’t truly a choice.
While it meant that I couldn’t exactly kill them without breaking my promise to Lily, I had no real desire to take them with us when we left.
“The boat,” Briony reminded me, voice low and only barely audible.
Alan’s cheeks were flushed, and Terry refused to look my way. The younger man, Archie didn’t seem to know what to do with himself and neither woman seemed inclined to look up from studying their laps. Only Steven was watching me, a smirk on his face, so it was him that I directed my question to.
“Does the RNLI station still have a boat?”
“Yes, fuel too. Why?”
“We’ll need it.”
“And we are to just give it to you, yes?”
“Hardly.” I’d expected that
. Nothing was free in the new world we lived in. “We can arrange supplies for you or a place on our island.”
“Ah, yes. So, we give you the boat and off you toddle, while we sit on our hands and await the arrival of supplies of help from these mythical friends of yours?”
I could understand the scepticism, but I disliked his tone of voice.
“You could do that. You could also come to London with us on the boat and meet up with the military force we are assembling there.”
He rose to his feet, smirk fixed in place as he looked around at his companions. I knew that there was little I could offer that he would be able to see, but if Isaac could get the radio working then we could at least have some corroboration of our story.
That might make him more inclined to believe us. Though I doubted it. He seemed to be a man that wanted something now, rather than later and no one seemed inclined to argue with him being the one to make that decision.
“Not good enough,” Steven said, taking a step towards me.
“Then what?”
“How about a night with her?” he asked, head tilting towards Briony. “I could use a new… challenge.”
While I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, I wasn’t interested enough to query it. The man was a sleaze, that was for sure but if he tried to bed Briony, he would be in for a shock.
“No,” Briony said before I could reply.
“Come now! It’s not fair for him to keep you all to himself.”
My hand slipped behind my back, reaching up, under my coat, for the knife that was hanging down my back from a string. I closed my fingers around the hilt and drew it slowly as the man took another step towards us.
“You don’t want to do that,” I said, keeping my voice conversational as he reached his hand up towards Briony’s hood.
“But I do, it’s been so long since I had someone with a bit of fight in them.”
His fingers closed on the hood of her coat and a scream sounded, ripped from him as her hand reached up, too long, grey, fingers wrapping around his wrist and squeezing tighter than any human could hope to.
Steven dropped to his knees, mouth and eyes opened wide in shock and panic as her hood fell away, revealing grey skin, hairless head and a crown of bone circling her skull.
Killing The Dead (Book 18): Sacrifice Page 9
