There in the darkness were three flesh-eaters feeding on a deer. It was a fresh kill. The guts and intestines were being ripped out and were being devoured with fearful speed. They were not aware of the two men creeping up on them as the feast was the prize asset.
“Captain, how can they be here so soon?”
“I’m not sure, Sergeant, but we must do this a quietly as possible.”
With the bayonets drawn, each man chose a target. It would then be a case of dash and kill. The third flesh-eater would be left for both of them to take.
The creatures did not hear the men dart forward and set on them like lions catching their prey on the Serengeti. The quick thrust and twist to the heads of the first two gave them the upper hand. The third took a while to react, content to eat at first. Then, eyes focusing on fresh meat, it moved out of its slumber. The plan was simple; let it come after one man whilst the other stabbed it from behind. This went exactly to plan. The creature focused on Sergeant Butcher and was unaware of the captain coming from behind it to stab it in the head.
They sat down once the attack was over, hearts pumping. They were disturbed that the flesh-eaters were already this far into Prussia. How quick was this enemy force moving and what was the level of the infection from the flesh-eaters?
They wasted no time and returned to the group. The other guard was alert and looking a little edgy. The horses had calmed down and were now resting. The soldiers spoke to each other briefly and decided it was fine not to wake the group. There had been no more signs of creatures moving about and even if there were more, everyone still needed to rest.
The flesh-eaters were not particularly fast, but they did not seem to tire. The only real way to kill them was to destroy their brains.
The sergeant and the captain spoke briefly about what was causing them to come back to life. They could not understand why it had never been seen before and why they were not attacking the Priests. The drone soldiers were half infected which made them not so attractive to the flesh-eaters.
As they took leave of their shift and returned to their sleeping place, their thoughts lingered on being bitten or eaten whilst asleep. The new change of guard and been warned about the flesh-eaters and told to be prepared for more.
The rain had stopped in the night. The sun was out early and the weather was already looking good. Breakfast was rustled up and devoured very instantly.
They set off early and were making good progress by lunch. The castle was set amongst a sharp backdrop. The steep banks of the mountain and rugged terrain surrounded this fearsome place. The walls were high and turrets tall and thin. It was not the largest castle in the world, but it had a dominant feel to it.
The Prussians now led from the front of the group. A flag was flying from the keep and movement on the battlements gave hope it was still occupied. Captain Müller said it would be best for him to ride ahead with two of his men. He pointed out that if it was a trap, there was no point in all of them dying. His English was harsh and sharp like his German, but he had a fair point.
The other men dismounted. They did not draw out their rifles as this was not the time to raise suspicion. They hoped Brigadier Von Schwen was still residing in the fort, otherwise this would have been a wasted journey.
One hour passed before Captain Müller returned with five more Prussians. They promptly told the others to follow them towards the castle. As they rode at speed, the actual size of the castle started to come into view. It did not seem that big from a distance, but the closer you got, the higher and stronger the walls became.
The drawbridge came down and the gates opened. Two cannons were positioned almost directly in front of the gate. There was a ring of sandbags around them. The castle was not teaming with life. A couple of soldiers were moving ammunition boxes around, but on the whole it was quiet.
Waiting for them at the top of stone staircase was an old-looking man in a smart uniform. Captain Müller went straight to the bottom of the steps and dismounted. He then saluted the man. This was Brigadier Von Schwen. The rest of the group dismounted and saluted the brigadier. The non-German speakers were told they would have all information translated to them.
The brigadier’s uniform was pristine, with boots and brass buckles polished to perfection. He may have been an older man, possibly in his mid to late sixties, but he still looked strong and powerful. His eyes were inquisitive and searched for information from his guests.
Captain Hayward came forward and saluted the brigadier again. He then shook his hand.
In broken English the brigadier welcomed him. Then a young Prussian soldier came forward to help translate. They were all led up the steps and into the dining quarters.
“The brigadier wishes you to have something to eat before you help us with information on this war that is now being waged,” said the translator,
In front of them was a long table with a feast fit for a king. Several large cauldrons of soup, fresh bread and cheese and fruit and wine were also on the menu. The men tucked in to this smorgasbord with relish.
The brigadier let them eat for thirty minutes before returning to the dining quarters. He then spoke to Captain Müller and Captain Hayward. He suggested they both should follow him. They walked across the large dining hall and down several corridors. They then followed him up a winding turret staircase. It seemed to go on forever, and each man had to work hard to keep up with the brigadier.
At the top of the stairs was a well-furnished room. It had a roaring fire and tables covered in charts and paper. The view from the windows was jaw-dropping. After a few minutes the young interpreter joined them.
The brigadier sat the three men around the fire and fetched some more wine.
He spoke to the interpreter, who then translated.
“The brigadier would like to know how you have ended up in Prussia and what you know about this invading force.”
A chair was pulled closer to the three men. The brigadier sat down and looked at Captain Hayward. The captain wasted no time in telling them the story. He paused every now and again to allow the interpreter to catch up. The brigadier’s face moved with shock and revulsion at some of the things he was being told.
This conversation went on for half an hour. When they stopped, the captain was offered more wine. He was told via the interpreter that his information could be vital against the war with this new enemy. Reports had reached the brigadier about flesh-eaters in the hills and mountains around the castle. Their appearance in Southern Prussia played heavily on his mind.
Captain Hayward was told they had reached the castle just in time as they intended to set off to join the main army in Munich shortly. The discussions rambled on for another hour. They were shown maps and possible future defensive points. The brigadier felt Prussia had an army that would equally match this aggressor and glanced at an old picture on the wall of Prussian soldiers fighting an epic battle. It was like a statement, something to give him comfort. He was proud to be a soldier and would probably die being one.
The men pondered over more battle plans and were only stopped by hard knock on the door. A staff sergeant came in the room and saluted the brigadier. They spoke briefly and the brigadier nodded. Captain Hayward got the gist of it and realised it was probably time to start heading back to the boat.
They shook hands and left the warm inner quarters of the brigadier’s world and made their way back down the steps.
Soon the horses were being mounted and the men preparing to leave. The brigadier came over and spoke to Captain Müller. The interpreter was by his side.
“Good luck to your band of warriors and maybe we will meet for the greater good on the battlefield in the future.”
With that, the captain saluted him one last time and turned the horse to leave. The gate was opened and they rode out at speed. It had occurred to them to stay overnight, but it meant risking missing the boat should they hit trouble along the route home.
The sun was slowly going down and they agreed
to ride for an hour or so and then make camp. Their full bellies had restored some drive and this helped them to press on.
The graveyard shifts were swapped around. Noises could be heard in the distance as the woods no longer carried the usual night sounds.
They awoke early and left for the boat. Time was on their side as they rode at speed.
They pressed on into the following evening and came across the boat, still moored. The guards had initially demanded a password which was “Fatherland” in Prussian. Once it was established that they were friends not foes, they were granted access to the boat. The horses would be led on board in the morning. This meant that several men would have to camp outside to protect them. The idea was passed around to leave them tied up unguarded, but they were just too precious for that.
Chapter 20
The next morning the boat was moored in shallow water close to the bank and the horses winched in. It was a slow process, but a worthy one.
As the boat Captain gave the order to move, the upper decks started to fill with soldiers and nurses taking in the scenery. It was hard at times for them to understand there was a war on, surrounded as they were by such beauty.
The captain spoke with the major about their brief meeting with Brigadier Von Schwen. They hoped their talk had convinced him to warn other parts of Prussia what was coming. Flesh-eaters in the mountains were also brought up. The major was concerned to hear this as the movement and spread of the enemy was faster than first feared.
“Could they have infected people and already sent them from Austria to Prussia?”
It was a decent question from Colonel Kiesl, to which Captain Müller responded:
“Prussia would have known about such an outbreak before you arrived on the scene. You are clutching at straws. Just because the Austro–Hungarian Empire could not cope—”
He was stopped mid-sentence by the major. He could see both men getting angered by each other and did not want to turn the boat into a mini battlefield between the Prussians and Austrians.
“Gentlemen, this cannot turn into a competition of who can piss the furthest. We are facing an enemy that has an army of walking dead. Creatures that no man has ever seen before! The picture is a lot darker than you can imagine. We must focus our energy on constructive solutions.”
There was a look of distain from both men, but they agreed to stop fighting.
Benedict set the course for Ulm and believed they could do it in several days depending on unforeseen stoppages. The Prussians had been ordered to stay on board by the brigadier and see them out of Prussia.
The warm sunny weather and idyllic countryside fooled the mind to what was happening around them. It helped them relax, but carried a worry for Captain Hayward that if they let their guard down it could prove fatal.
The plan was to get close to Ulm and then make their way to Stuttgart. This would take more horses, wagons and carts. Captain Müller believed he could find these requirements and was confident of getting the soldiers and nurses from Stuttgart into France.
In the evenings the boat moored as usual and the inhabitants took their supper and prepared for sleep. There had been the odd moment of tension from being cooped up in the boat for so long. Austrians and Prussians were finding it the hardest. They had ill feelings towards each other which needed to be buried. The British Engineers made the difference between fighting breaking out.
Forests gave way to pastures, giving them greater visibility. They were not going to march into Ulm. The fact was that nothing was known of the enemy’s whereabouts, but Captain Hayward hoped they would be far enough away to disembark from the boat.
This wish was shattered in the afternoon. A detachment of Northern riders were seen riding down a nearby road. Captain Müller pointed out that this was the road to Ulm.
With this sighting the soldiers were put on alert. They were not sure if they had been spotted or not. The steamboat was cranked up a notch or two as speed was going to play a key part in them getting away.
Two hours later, a strong odour started to fill the air. It was rotten in texture and it touched the very taste buds in everyone’s mouths. Then groans and snapping sounds could be heard. Nothing was there to see, just empty fields, until the river made its way around a sharp bend. What fell upon everyone’s eyes was hard to take in. Scattered across miles and miles of fields were bodies: soldiers, women, children. They were not alone. Flesh-eaters, thousands, possible tens of thousands were feeding like wild dogs.
They were tearing off flesh and innards. These half-human, half-dead creatures fought over the remains of Arms and legs. This army of flesh-eaters was too busy eating to notice the boat quietly pass them by.
No one could take their eyes off what was happening. Everyone was in shock.
Rumours quickly circulated that the dead were the inhabitants of Ulm and that it had already fallen.
One thing was now clear; they would have to sail on for another day before disembarking. Panic was starting to bubble under the surface; even the veteran soldiers were now worrying about what they were up against.
Major Richmond ordered a staff meeting in the wheelhouse.
“Gentlemen, you have all seen the fields of dead. Make no bones about it, this is a war which is spreading faster than we can control.”
Captain Müller looked still to be in shock. Seeing so much destruction and knowing that the dead were Prussian women and children almost broke him. He trembled with anger.
The other officers could see his anguish and gave him space to collect his thoughts. The river forked and bent around giving them plenty of opportunities to land. Benedict was confident he could find a small village with a port for them to get close to the bank.
“Major, how long do you think we have until the enemy knows how to stop us on water?”
The young officer had a point. The major looked up and paused briefly.
“My dear man, we must disembark before nightfall. We need to locate wagons and carts as soon as possible. That will mean finding a farm that still has livestock.”
The Prussian captain looked up.
“Nothing will be left now – we’re doomed!”
“You’re in shock, man. Get him a stiff drink and let’s get planning,” snarled Major Richmond.
The major might have felt the same as Captain Müller, but it was his responsibility to safeguard his men and the people on this ship. Captain Hayward brought over a strong whisky for the captain. He knocked it back in one swift action. His second-in-command seemed to control his thoughts and nerves.
“I’m sorry for that outburst. I have never seen this sort of thing before, those creatures – humans – are monsters and they are killing my people.”
Captain Hayward put his hand on the captain’s shoulder.
“We have a fight on our hands for sure. They are driving deep into Europe. We do not understand their mission or how they have managed to change into these creatures or infect humans with that disease. We must stay strong, and find answers.”
Within three hours a village came into sight. It looked deserted and there was no sign of life anywhere. It had a dock that was small, but big enough to get the steamboat moored. Two detachments of soldiers on the top deck covered the banks on both sides. Nothing was taken for granted.
Once the boat was docked, they sent out a scout party. The Gatling gun surveyed the buildings that were in close proximity to them.
Corporal Heinz was sent with ten Austrian soldiers to check the village house by house. The sun was coming up and the heat warmed the air around them. The village was serene and typical of the others they had come across. No damage anywhere, just a feeling of quick departure. There was still food in most of the houses and enough items that could be collected and used.
The real find came a couple of hours after the boat had been disembarked. Corporal Heinz took a horse and went out to a large country house on the outskirts of the city. He found what they needed: several wagons and carts were par
ked in a barn. The owners must have left in a hurry and could not take them all.
He took his time to move around the house and its corresponding farm. Next, he found some chickens, which he thought would be useful. They were wandering around carefree. He was about to turn and gallop back to report his good fortune when he saw another barn. The door was half open and it caught his eye as he moved past it.
He brought the horse to a halt and looked into the darkness. Then he rode over to a post, tied the horse and pulled out his revolver. He kissed his crucifix, which hung around his neck, and slowly approached the entrance. The warm sun licked at his arms and head. He slowly shuffled forward, his body tense and ready to react to any sort of movement.
His feet were turned slightly outwards, something his mother had always commented on to his father. He thought about that as he walked into the murkiness of the barn. His eyes adjusted fairly quickly, allowing him a picture of what was in there. To his surprise, standing perfectly still were seven to eight horses. He couldn’t understand why they had not escaped to their freedom. The door had been left open on purpose and yet they had returned to the barn.
They started to stir and become agitated. Corporal Heinz backed off and yet they still continued to move about in a panicked fashion. The deep, gravelly growl was enough to send the corporal stumbling backwards. The noise was not coming from within the barn – it was coming from outside.
He slowly worked his way to the open door. The light hurt his eyes briefly. His horse was still there, but coming in from the left was a long-limb. Its eyes were transfixed on his horse and it was crouching as though getting ready to strike.
He knew that his shot had to be good. The long-limbs were no easy kill and this one was hungry for food. He raised his revolver as it moved forward. Each step it took left a mark in the dirt beneath its feet. The horse started to rear up and struggle to break free from the post it was tied to.
The long-limb had not seen Corporal Heinz. He had the upper hand. He squeezed the trigger. The first shot landed in the creature’s right shoulder. It recoiled with pain as the bullet imbedded into its muscle.
Europe Has Fallen Page 22
