He slipped out of the door and closed it behind him. I leant back against it and wiped at my eyes as his footsteps faded away.
“Damn you, Ryan,” I whispered to the empty apartment. “Why can’t I let you go?”
Chapter 21
Midges swarmed in the air, darting about over the turgid waters of the River Dorn. Trees crowded the top of the banking with ferns and long grasses below them, all the way to the water line. A tangled mass of undergrowth through which a path had been cut.
Just off of the road and down a slight slope beside the stone bridge that crossed the river. It was well worn and the most likely place that the raiders would stop to gather their water supplies.
I’d found it three days before when searching the area, familiarising myself with the surrounding land so that I wouldn’t be caught entirely unawares when the time came. Which would be soon. I’d seen them hitching the trailer to the harnesses on two of the larger horses that very morning.
Gregg, a short distance downstream and visible only when standing beside the river itself, cast his line into the water. Not only would he be my distraction, but if lucky, he would also catch something for us to eat since we had been working our way through most of the food we had carried with us.
I pushed myself further back into the bushes beneath a great elm tree, as the steady sound of the horse’s hooves stopped on the road above. My knife was in my left hand and my axe in my right, as the excitement built within me.
“Unload!”
Through the branches, I caught sight of the speaker. Tall and slim, wearing the hodgepodge armour of the raiders. He hawked and spat into the dew wet grass as he rested one hand on the hilt of the hammered steel sword on his hip.
Two women, faces bruised and eyes tired, lifted a barrel from the back of the trailer and carried it down the slight slope to the river’s edge. They pulled off the lid and dunked the barrel into the river, open mouth facing upstream, so the waters own movement filled it.
With a series of grunts, they were able to lift the barrel out of the water and drop it onto the banking. One of the women reached down for the lid and stopped, staring at where Gregg sat, holding his fishing line, and staring at the river as he pretended not to have noticed them.
The two women shared whispered words and looked up the banking to where the trailer waited along with the guards. One shook her head, as the other whispered furiously. Another look up towards the road and the reluctant woman reached down to pick up the lid.
I watched with furrowed brow as they sealed the lid in place and half-dragged, half-carried the barrel back up to the road. A few moments later, they returned with another barrel while on the road, the first guard was joined by another as they lifted the filled barrel onto the back of the trailer.
A soft sigh escaped me as I realised the two women weren’t going to tell the guards about seeing Gregg. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but it meant my plan had gone all to pot. Which meant I needed to take more direct action.
The younger was pretty, though the bruises on her face almost hid that. Her brown hair had been cut short, badly, and I suspected the bruises were more because she resisted than because the guards liked to hurt her. That spoke of an inner strength that was impressive.
Her companion was older, maybe mid-twenties, though it was hard to tell beneath the dirt and mop of black hair that hung around her face. She had a slight limp that suggested a previously broken leg that had not been set correctly.
“Hey.”
My whispered words were barely loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the river and I had to repeat myself before the younger of the two women jerked her head around to stare at the bushes where I hid.
“I’m a friend,” I lied.
“You need to go,” she hissed back through clenched teeth. “They’ll kill you!”
“Or worse,” her friend added, glancing up at the road where the guards stood talking.
“If you want to be free of them, go up and tell them you’ve seen someone fishing then stay up there.”
The two women shared a look but didn’t immediately respond, which was more than a little irritating. I needed them to bring the guards else I would have to risk them alerting the base. Either way, if those guards didn’t come down to the riverbank, I would need to kill the women too.
“Okay,” the younger woman said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s your funeral.”
Another look passed between them before they hurried back up the slope, leaving the barrel behind. The guard turned at their approach, expression darkening as he raised his hand to strike at them but paused as they spoke, pointing down the river.
The guard gestured for the women to stay before heading my way. He wore a breastplate of dull metal and the same rubber tyre vambraces and pauldrons. I was sure they thought it looked impressive, but it offered little real protection.
His companion came after, wearing the same armour, and he drew his sword. I held back from snickering as he likely thought it made him look menacing but instead just had him looking like the fool he was.
They stopped on the riverbank a short distance from where I hid, staring at Gregg. The leader waved the other back as he set off along the bank towards my friend. I seized the moment.
A rustle of leaves and the snap of a twig was all the warning the guard had before I pressed my arm over his mouth and stabbed my knife deep into the side of his neck. Blood spurted forth as he dropped that ridiculous sword and struggled in my grasp.
The leader was too close to the river to hear much over the sound of its passing and his own passage through the thick grasses and broken twigs that littered the bank. He didn’t notice his friend dying, nor my swift approach.
“Who are you?” he called out as he approached Gregg. “Are you alone?”
“No,” Gregg replied as I leapt, bringing my axe crashing down on the raider’s skull.
I pulled free my axe and wiped the head on the grass before flashing a grin at my friend. “That was fun.”
“It was quick,” he agreed. “But not sure how much fun it was.”
“You catch any fish?”
“Not yet.”
“Ah well,” I glanced back along the bank to where the two women stood over the body of the first raider I had killed, staring open mouthed at me. “Soon as I kill everyone in the compound, we can loot their supplies.”
He didn’t reply, but just shook his head as he wound in the fishing line. I left him to it as I headed back to where the women waited.
“What have you done!” the younger said. “They’ll kill us for this!”
“Most likely,” I agreed. “Which means you’d be better off helping me kill them first.”
“How are we supposed to do that?”
I grinned then and heard the loud groan of Gregg behind me as he joined us.
“Here’s the plan,” I said, and began to talk.
The two women listened, with wide eyes and shook their heads in disbelief, but they did listen. That was something, I supposed.
“So, what do you think?”
“Won’t work,” the younger said.
“Why not?”
“If we go back without the guards, they will kill us.”
“Yeah, we’re not there by choice,” the other said. “They know that if we had the chance we would run.”
“Then why aren’t you running?” I asked, cocking one eyebrow as I watched them. I suspected the answer but needed them to hear themselves say it.
“We have people back there,” the younger said, eyes shining with unshed tears. “If we run, they’ll be hurt.”
“So, you tell them that,” Gregg suggested. “When they ask why you came back.”
“They hurt you, yes?” I pointed towards the bruises on their faces, and they both nodded sullenly. “You are their prisoners, basically little more than slaves. I am offering you the chance for freedom.”
“What’s the point?” the younger asked. “There’s more l
ike them out there! And if you kill this lot, there’s more that will come.”
“Then you leave,” I said. “There are places you will be safe.”
“No, there’s nowhere safe, not anymore. Not if you’re a woman, anyway.”
I looked back at Gregg and tilted my head towards them. He needed to convince them because there was no way that I could. They needed empathy and compassion, both of which I willingly admitted to lacking.
He shook his head but took a step forward as he gestured at the body of the dead guard nearby.
“These kind of people are everywhere, yes. But there are others, those who want to help us survive and live our lives without fear and pain.”
“Yeah, I call bullshit,” the younger woman said. “When the zombies came, I was in high school. My mum and dad were killed trying to get to me. I was in the classroom and saw them torn apart in the playground, yeah?”
“One of the teachers, Mrs Pilkington, she got some of us out and we ended up in a refugee centre with the army protecting us. Too little food, and no one inside to stop the men doing what they wanted to an eleven-year-old girl who was all alone.”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand as a tear ran down her dirt streaked face.
“The first time I ever had sex, it was forced. Every time since then has been the same. I either do what they want, or they hurt me. At first, it was do it or they’ll let the zombies have me. Can you imagine that? Eleven years old and facing either daily rape or being out alone with the zombies?”
“I can’t even begin to imagine that terror you must have felt,” Gregg said. “I don’t want to minimise your pain and suffering, but not every group is like that.”
“Yeah? Tell that to every girl in that fucking place back there!” She snapped. “Some of the boys too, the prettier ones, anyway. We all have the same fucked up stories.”
“At least here we have food and are warm and safe,” the other said. “They get rough sometimes, but it’s been worse. Far worse.”
I was at a loss and I could see the furrowed brow and screwed up nose of my friend which likely meant he wasn’t entirely sure of how to convince them either. They were willing to continue with their abuse as they thought it was better than what they would find out in the world.
“Not all are the same,” Emma said from up on the road. Abigail was beside her. “We know there are safe places.”
“Who are you?”
“These are our friends,” Gregg said hurriedly. “We are all travelling together.”
“You were supposed to be watching the compound,” I said, and Emma bowed her head.
“We did.” Abigail said, a little petulantly, I thought. “More people have arrived.”
“More?” I glanced at Gregg who met my gaze and shook his head. That was not a good sign. “Who are they?”
The younger woman didn’t meet my gaze as she said, “probably one of the patrols.”
“Unless they patrol in groups of twenty or more, I doubt that,” Emma said.
“That means there’s more than thirty of them there!” Gregg hissed. “We need to go!”
The two women exchanged glances at that, sharing an ‘I told you so’ look that I recognised from when Cass and Lily had done the same. Usually after I had done something to upset them that had not ended as well as I had hoped.
“No,” I said, voice firm and unyielding. “It will make things a little more difficult, but my plan remains the same.”
“What plan?” the younger woman asked suspiciously, and I grinned.
“Kill all the raiders and free you to do whatever you please.”
“Stupid plan,” she said. “That just means we will be sitting ducks for anyone who comes along and fancies themselves some rape and murder.”
“I told you, there are places you can go where you will be safe.”
“Where? Where the fuck will we be able to live without a daily beating or worse?”
“The Isle of Mann,” Emma said. “The leader of that place is a woman. She is kind, compassionate and desperately wants to save everyone.”
“Yeah, then why isn’t she here helping us now?”
“She couldn’t.” Emma’s eyes met mine and heat filled her cheeks before she looked away. “For a time, she was imprisoned and the island under the control of an evil man. But she is free once more and will offer help to those who have need.”
“Not much use to us lot, though, is it?” the younger woman snapped. “Soon as that place stops reporting back to their main group, the Riders will come. They will catch us, and they will do things to us that will make death a blessing.”
“Then why did you not warn your guards?” I asked, nudging the corpse with my foot. “Why not tell them I was there in the bushes.”
“Thought they’d kill you anyway, so it didn’t matter.”
She was honest, at least. I liked her, and I thought Lily would too. She had a greater strength in her than I suspected even she knew. She reminded me very much of Lily, which raised a smile on my face.
“Why the fuck is he smiling?” she asked, stepping back.
“He’s just…” Gregg blew out his cheeks, not sure what to say.
“Don’t worry,” Abigail said. “I’ve been around him for over five years and he’s never so much as raised a hand in my direction.”
“So what? That means he’s not into you or he’s gay. Doesn’t mean we’re safe.”
“He’s not gay,” Gregg said. “I am, though.”
She looked sceptically at him and then at me before shaking her head.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I don’t trust you, but I’ll do you a solid and not tell them which way you go.”
“What about if we took you to the Isle of Mann,” Abigail said, fixing her gaze on me as I scowled. “We can keep you safe.”
“You?”
“Well… him,” she said, nodding at me. “He’s not always the most pleasant person to be around but you will be safe with him.”
My scowl deepened but she ignored it. She knew what my plans were and that I had no intention of going to the island myself. Nor did I want to have to babysit a bunch of scared and likely useless people who would need supplies that we didn’t have just to keep them alive.
“Abi…” Gregg said, glancing at me. “Perhaps we should discuss that.”
“Yeah, see. Even they don’t want to do it so why the hell should we trust you?” the younger woman asked.
Don’t say it!
“Because he is the Lord of Death and saviour of our world,” Emma said. “He will save you as he saved all of us.”
All eyes turned towards me, the younger woman’s eyebrows rising comically as Gregg just shook his head.
Ah, crap! Was all I could think.
Chapter 22
“I’m pleased to report that the first week of school was a success,” Councillor Drake said. He cleared his throat and shuffled the papers before him as he allowed himself a slight smile. “The children have a great deal of catching up to do, but we will get there.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Thank you for your report.”
The councillor pursed his lips as he continued to shuffle his papers. He had been leading the call to have a school up and running and I had agreed, wholeheartedly and supported him. It had been put on hold while Sebastian had control over the island and in the past two months, he had been working night and day to get it back on track.
“Will be good for the kids to have a steady routine,” Cass added with a smile. “I know my own daughter is loving it. She brought home her first bit of artwork yesterday. So cute!”
Her smile was copied by those other members of the council. We all needed to hear some good news and what better than the normalcy of children attending school again. My two had gone also, albeit with armed guards close by.
“Unfortunately, my news is not so great,” Councillor Barnes said. She wore her usual sour expression and I braced myself.
“While we are still producing and refining our own fuel to run the power and water treatment plants, here on the island, we are starting to have machinery breakdowns that we can’t fix.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Expertise in some cases, lack of parts in others. The expertise issue we can work around, but we can’t magic up parts that are no longer being made.”
“What do we need to do to get them made?” Cass asked.
“Restart an entire industry and all the accompanying supply chains,” she replied.
“Which means we can’t.” I found myself touching the scar that ran around my neck. It was a nervous habit I had developed of late, a constant reminder of how close I had come to death. “What do you propose then?”
“We need to be sustainable.” She picked up the stack of papers from the desk in front of her and started passing them around. “These are some workable solutions, not just for here but for on the mainland too.”
Now that got my attention, and I scanned the paper briefly, eyebrows rising. It felt almost like a step back but wasn’t, not really.
“You can do this?”
“Yes. Most of it we can produce with the materials we have on hand. There will be no need to rebuild an entire industrial base to do it.”
“Windmills and waterwheels,” Councillor Jones said. “Do you really think this is the best option?”
“Look, the things that were built before, they’re failing. Wind turbines have fallen into ruin, power plants are crumbling. Do you know how to mine for some of the raw materials we would need to continue on as before?”
She looked from face to face as she challenged us to answer her. None could.
“Even if you knew where to mine, the equipment that was used has been rusting for the better part of a decade. We would be back to using pickaxe and shovel, while using rough built forges to try and smelt that ore. We can’t do it.”
“What we can do,” she continued. “Is find sustainable methods that we use with the materials we have available. Which, brings me to my next problem.”
Here it comes.
“Boats.”
“What about them?” Cass asked.
Killing The Dead | Book 21 | The Journey Home Page 16
