Killing the Dead (Book 13): War of the Dead

by Murray, Richard

  “Is there any food here?” I asked and one of the minions shook their head.

  “No, My Lord Death. This place was cleaned out long ago.”

  “Then we should move on to the warehouses and see if there is anything there.”

  “As you command.”

  Jason watched the exchange with wide eyes and quickly looked away when my attention returned to him.

  “Gather them up,” I said to Jenny. “Take them down to the boats.”

  When no response came, I looked across at her and cocked one eyebrow in query.

  “Forgive me,” she said slowly. “If we take them that would leave but one fist to guard you.”

  “You believe I need guards?”

  “N-no, My Lord Death.”

  “Ah, you do not believe then in our main purpose?”

  Her clenched fist hit her breast with bruising force as she said, “To protect the Living. I obey your command, My Lord Death.”

  That was good enough for me and I nodded dismissively before turning back to Jason. There were still a couple of questions I needed answering before he left.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “We arrived last night.”

  “Have you seen any undead at all?”

  “No,” he said, looking back as my minions gestured his companions to their feet.

  “Any other people? Anything out of the ordinary?”

  “N-no.”

  I gave him one last hard look before nodding and waving him away. The lack of undead in the small town was disturbing. But, no matter what surprises I would find, I was sure I would deal with it. With a soft smile playing on my lips I gathered the last fist of black-clad minions and headed out of the supermarket.

  Chapter 12

  The soft ticking of a clock was the only sound in the office besides the rough scratching of pen on paper as minister Shahid signed her name. She hadn’t looked up since I had first stepped into her well-appointed office and while I knew it was just a tactic to keep me off guard, it still annoyed me.

  A few strands of coal black hair hung free from the colourful orange hijab that she wore. Aside from that, she wore a grey pantsuit with a white blouse and I had the immediate impression upon seeing her that she was the sort of person who made an effort each day to dress appropriately for her station.

  Not a bad thing, admittedly, pride in one’s appearance was something people would note after all. She could, however, be forgiven considering the current state of the world. It wasn’t like there were a lot of options for most of the people on the island and the time and effort it would take to ensure her suits were cleaned were resources that could be better spent elsewhere.

  The wood panelled door to the left of her desk opened and a young woman walked in. She smiled shyly at me before placing a porcelain cup and saucer on the desk beside the minister. She moved around the desk, picking up some of those pieces of paper that her boss was working so hard to sign.

  Another shy smile and she was gone, back through the door she had entered by and leaving me, once again, standing at full attention before the minister’s desk as I waited to be acknowledged. It was galling, to say the least.

  As the clock continued to tick steadily away, the scratching of pen on paper began to really grate on my nerves. It wasn’t like there was much to look at either as I stared at the top of her head.

  The desk was immaculate, with no personal items upon it at all. Binders, books and stacks of paper were all kept in neat piles on the table behind her, while the walls were adorned with paintings that I was pretty sure would have looked more at home on the walls of an art gallery.

  “Lieutenant Morgan,” minister Shahid said and my gaze snapped back to her to find her staring directly at me.

  There was a smile playing on her lips and I cursed inwardly. It was like she knew just exactly when my attention had wandered so she could catch me out when she spoke.

  “Ma’am.”

  “You are, it would seem, under my direct command.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What then, should I do with you?”

  I remained silent, considering it best not to answer as I was fairly certain that was a rhetorical question.

  “You are the… liaison to these, Dead people, yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And I am right in my understanding that they will not be amenable to someone else taking on that role?”

  “That would be right, ma’am.”

  God only knew what would happen if someone else tried to handle Ryan and his merry little band of killers.

  “Then I feel that you should be best served by remaining in that role.”

  I couldn’t help but hear the unspoken, ‘for the moment.’

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Since you are new to the island, I do feel that we need to be clear on a few things, however.”

  I waited in silence, listening to that damned clock ticking.

  “You… intervened, in an incident yesterday.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “The fire.”

  “Ah, yes, ma’am.”

  “That will not happen again.”

  I stared at a point just above her left shoulder, afraid that if I looked directly into her eyes I might lose some control of myself.

  “Why would that be, ma’am?”

  “It is not upon you to question as to why, merely to obey. Am I clear?”

  She had me there.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, as to these, dead-men. They are to be kept separate from the main populace.”

  She said their name with such utter disdain in her voice that I had to fight to keep my face calm. There were few who didn’t know just how much Ryan’s followers had done to save those innocent people fleeing the undead. For her to be so dismissive infuriated me.

  “That may be hard to do, ma’am.”

  “How so?”

  “They do not obey me, just their leader and he is elsewhere.”

  “I do not want them mingling with the people of this town.”

  “The only way to stop them from doing as they please would be to force them,” I said, knowing full well that I was lying.

  If I asked Samuel, he would agree to stay in the sports centre just to keep the peace but something about the minister was annoying me. Her attitude, or perhaps just tone of voice. Whatever it was though, I had no real desire to let her demand anything of Ryan’s people.

  “An open fight with them would be disastrous,” I said calmly. “A lot of the people on this island owe their lives to them so I would imagine the public would be on their side in a confrontation.”

  “Perhaps so.”

  I watched from the corner of my eye as she tapped at her chin thoughtfully. She wasn’t happy, that was clear to me but contemplating an open confrontation with a three hundred strong group of people who did nothing but fight the undead, wouldn’t exactly do her any favours.

  “Restrict them to the town,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I don’t want them traipsing all over the island. Can you do that?”

  Keeping them away from a certain facility?

  “I believe I will be able to convince them of that.”

  “Then do so.” She paused for a moment before giving me a sharp glance. “You are aware of the… situation here on the island?”

  “To some degree, ma’am.”

  “Familiarise yourself fully with how things are. I want no more misunderstandings.” She lifted a sealed white envelope from her desk and held it out to me. “For your eyes only.”

  I took the envelope without a word and held it while avoiding looking down at what I held. I refused to give her the satisfaction of thinking me curious.

  “Order must be maintained,” she continued. “The coming weeks will be difficult but we must maintain order. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I answered by rote but in truth, I had no idea what she w
as speaking about. It was clear she was a woman with a lot on her mind but I had little real idea of the dynamics at play on the island. One thing I was sure of though was that I would figure them out.

  “Dismissed.”

  With a sharp salute, I turned on my heel and marched towards the door keeping my back straight. I didn’t look back until the wood panelled door closed behind me. My expression was thoughtful as the three dark-clothed acolytes fell into place around me, their eyes turned outwards towards any potential threat.

  As I made my way through the maze-like corridors of the government building, a familiar face fell into place beside me. I flashed him a quick smile as he cleared his throat politely.

  “Hey, Lou.”

  Lieutenant Macintosh, known as ‘Lou’ by the people he had rescued and safeguarded back in Glasgow. He looked much the same as he had when I’d last seen him, before the winter. He’d left the city with the rest of his people, headed to the island on one of the boats that had brought troops into the city.

  “You’re looking good. Island life suits you.”

  He offered a brief smile in reply, though I noted that his eyes remained hooded and he kept scratching at his clean-shaven chin. Like most of the rest of us, he was slim, though that was less to do with the starvation level diets we had all endured and more to do with a lifetime of military service and a strict exercise regime.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, his voice soft and low so as not to be overheard.

  His face offered no clue as I cocked one eyebrow his way, a question in my gaze. He shook his head, one finger that he had been using to scratch his chin, flicked up to his lips in a shushing gesture before he quickly dropped it.

  A quick glance around at the CDF personnel who were moving around the building or standing guard was enough to let me know there was something terribly wrong on the island. If he didn’t want to be overheard by the men and women who wore the same uniform that he did, there was a problem.

  I stayed silent as we passed through the checkpoint at the front entrance and opened my mouth to speak as we walked along the seafront, back towards the sports centre.

  “Not here,” Lou said and tilted his head to an alleyway further along the road. “I have somewhere private where we can catch up.”

  He led the way down the alley and out onto another street. My guards kept their hands on their knife hilts all the time, their eyes full of suspicion as though expecting some attack. I considered that to be more than a little foolish.

  The street was reasonably busy with people going one way or another along its length, the majority though, walked listlessly, without real purpose as though they were just going somewhere because they needed to be doing something.

  In the houses that we passed, it was much the same. People lounged around their houses, aimlessly staring out of the windows, their faces numb and gaze disinterested. There was a malaise that hovered over the town, a lack of real purpose for the people there.

  It wasn’t enough just to survive, there had to be something to work towards, something to give their lives meaning. I had no real idea what that was, but it was clear to me that the people of the town weren’t getting it.

  CDF guard posts were placed at each main intersection, with three or four men and women wearing the navy-blue fatigues that passed for our uniform. They leant against the mound of sandbags that formed a barrier between them and the people passing and watched everyone with bored expressions. Their weapons were sheathed on their belts and only one of each group carried a sidearm.

  Clearly, they didn’t expect to have to deal with anything other than the occasional domestic argument or fight between the bored people of the town looking for any reason to have something to do.

  I couldn’t help but frown their way, they were the first line of defence for the people of the town and they should treat their role with the respect it deserved. There was no doubt in my mind that Ryan’s followers would be anything less than alert at all times while watching over the people they had given up everything to protect.

  “In here.”

  Lou led the way into a three-storey block of flats. Judging from the number of CDF personnel hanging out on the landing between floors, talking, smoking or drinking, I guessed it to be military housing.

  My ever-present guards were viewed with a great deal of suspicion by those CDF personnel and to their credit, they didn’t so much as blink. They were confident in their ability to protect me even in the midst of all those off-duty soldiers. That was unnerving and a sure sign of Ryan’s influence over them.

  As soon as Lou opened the door to what I assumed to be his quarters, one of the black-clad acolytes broke away and pushed past him into the room beyond. Another of them took a step forward and raised one arm before me as a barrier.

  I folded my arms across my chest and cocked one eyebrow his way and he lowered his arm, though he remained close.

  The acolyte came back out of the room and nodded once. That seemed to be signal enough and both he and the other male acolyte took up position on either side of the door, watched all the while by a bemused Lou.

  “May we enter now do you think?” he asked with a slight smile on his face.

  “Lead the way,” I said, holding back my sigh.

  I understood why Samuel had sent them with me but it was still a burden I considered to be unnecessary. Once Ryan was back I would ask him to have a word with Samuel about it since while he wouldn’t listen to me, he would certainly listen to his beloved leader.

  The female acolyte closed the door behind me and leant back against it. She scanned the room with her eyes, alert for any potential danger but remaining far enough away to give me some privacy.

  Not that there was any real reason to be on high alert, there was a definite lack of room in the flat. A tiny kitchen area to my right had a clean sink with a stack of washed bowls and cups beside it. There was a door that led off to the bedroom and I assumed a bathroom and the living room was sparsely furnished.

  I took a seat on the fabric covered sofa and waited as Lou bustled around in the small kitchenette, making what seemed to be tea. It had been some time since I had enjoyed a cup of that glorious stuff and even the teabag variety he was making was a welcome surprise.

  He filled the cups and brought them across to where I sat, placing one steaming cup on the low table before me. He held the other in his hand and lifted a remote, pressing a button on it and filling the room with the sound of music.

  “Wow,” I said, an appreciative smile on my face. “It’s been a long time since I heard… well, any music really.”

  “One of the perks of having the navy here. They broadcast from one of the destroyers anchored just offshore. It’s one of the few things they are allowed to do.”

  “Things are that bad here?”

  I lifted the cup and inhaled the aroma of the tea as he took a moment to consider his words before replying. His hesitation was telling enough but I waited as patiently as I could to hear what he had to say.

  “After I left Glasgow,” he began softly. “We came here on the boats, as you know. Well, obviously I did since I’m here now.”

  I nodded and flashed him a quick smile of encouragement. He clearly didn’t want to say what he had to.

  “When we arrived, everything was fine. The government was already in place and people were settling into their new life here.”

  He scratched idly at his chin and sipped his tea before continuing.

  “I enlisted in the Civilian Defence Force to try and make a difference.” He looked directly at me and I could see the pain in them. “I didn’t join up to guard this island only. There are people out there who need help.”

  “The people here need protecting too…”

  “No,” he interrupted gently. “You misunderstand me. I accept that sometimes we will need to be the guard, watching over the civilians, but I didn’t sign on for this!”

  “What is, this? What do you mean?”
<
br />   “Not interfering with the fires for one,” he snapped. “Arresting people who speak out against the government on some trumped-up charges just ‘to keep order,’ or spending most of my days dealing with angry people whose rations have just been cut for some minor infraction they committed.”

  “That’s happening?” It had to be Shahid who gave the order, but I needed him to confirm it. “Who ordered this, the government?”

  “Aye. It came from Shahid herself but she couldn’t do it without the backing of the rest of them.”

  “That’s not all is it?”

  “No.” He shook his head and wouldn’t meet my eyes, turning his face away as he spoke. “I’ve seen people delivered to the holding facility but I’ve not seen anyone come back.”

  “You mean the people bitten by the zombies, yeah?”

  “No. Those arrested for violence against others. Murderers, rapists, even just those who are suffering from PTSD and have reacted badly, with violence. None of them have come back to the main population.”

  “I was told they had a prison…”

  “They all go to the same place.”

  “Damn.”

  There was a feeling deep down inside of me, a sudden and inescapable feeling that something very bad was happening and I just knew that I didn’t want to investigate too deeply, but at the same time, knew I had no choice.

  “Who has access to it?”

  “The CDF troops under Colonel Smith.”

  I didn’t know the name but I would find out all I could about him.

  “Thing is,” Lou continued. “The navy are out of the loop. They’re restricted to the docks and their ships. Admiral Stuart is a good man but he had the chance to lead and he refused. Now we have as corrupt a lot as any government has ever had.”

  Cass was part of that same government and I knew she wouldn’t be complicit in any of the things that Lou had suggested. Or, at least I thought she wouldn’t.

  “There’s more,” Lou said and that time I did sigh.

  “What?”

  “Rumours are already spreading.” He glanced at me, eyes meeting mine and he quickly looked away again. “About the Dead.”

  “What rumours?”

  “Nothing good. I won’t repeat them but you need to know, they won’t be finding a lot of support.”