“That’s all?”
“At least seventeen too young, too old or just unsuitable,” she said and her face turned towards Bryan. “Forty-six unwilling to kill even the undead.”
“We aren’t fighters or violent by nature,” my father said with a look of distaste as though it were the worst thing in the world to fight, to kill. “You know this son.”
I glanced over to Lily and she met my eyes. Her face was pale and sweat beaded her forehead despite the chill air. She shook her head and I gripped the hilt of my knife tight before I turned back to my father.
“Go to your people,” I couldn’t help but place emphasis on that. I would never be one of his people and he needed to understand that. “Tell them that they will fight and they will kill the undead or they will die here.”
“Ryan,” Lily said behind me.
“We won’t fight and die for you if you aren’t willing to do so yourselves,” I continued but I released my hold on my knife.
“These are good decent people,” my father said. “They won’t be much use to you.”
“They will face the undead and they will stand fast before them. Any who refuses to fight or runs will die,” I snapped and his eyes widened.
“Are you threatening us?”
“Ryan, please!” Lily said and I spun on my heel and walked away from the stiff-backed form of my father. My hands trembled and the need to strike, to kill, was strong within me. That darkness, that emptiness that could only be sated with death screamed for release.
A hand touched my arm and I held myself still, barely. I turned my head to see her face, compassion in her eyes and something else, something that calmed the roiling darkness and stilled the trembling of my hands.
“Let me talk to them,” she said and I nodded curtly. “Go check on Charlie, I’ll finish here.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I turned and walked straight-backed to the door. I kept my gaze fixed there as I knew that if I looked to my father I would test the limits of my promise to Lily. I did see Pat nod out of the corner of my eye and he followed me out. No doubt at Lily’s bidding to ensure I didn’t do anything I would regret.
The people in the courtyard, young and old alike watched the gates, listening to the creak of the great wooden locking bar as it bowed under the weight of all those pushing against it. I paused and Pat almost bumped into my back as I stared at that bar.
“What’s up?” Pat said.
“We might have to cut through that bar,” I said and he looked over to the gates, a crease appearing on his brow.
“You think?”
“I believe that there’s too much force pushing against it. We won’t be able to lift it, so when we open those gates, it will be for good.”
“All or nothing then?”
I nodded and set off again. This time at a slower pace as my mind raced with the problems ahead. Pat kept pace and since he was his usual quiet self, I had no objection to his presence.
Twenty-three people willing to fight, forty-six who would be forced to fight. Against hundreds of the undead and scores of Ferals. If my plan worked, then the Shamblers, even for the most likely useless and untested people of the Sanctuary, would be tough but not unbeatable. The Ferals though were a different matter.
“We need to plan for the worst,” I said to Pat, keeping my voice low so that he had to lean close to hear.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think these people will survive what’s to come. We need to prepare, to make sure we have a way out when it's clear to everyone that we’ve lost.”
“Isn’t that a bit defeatist,” he asked and a slow smile formed on his face as I shook my head.
“Realist if anything my friend,” I said and he blinked owlishly. It was rare for me to reference our friendship or even acknowledge it. “Lily won’t leave until the last possible moment and by that time, we probably won’t have much chance of escape.”
“What do you suggest?” he asked and he looked back towards the great hall where his pregnant partner remained.
“There’s one watch tower on the south-western corner of the castle,” I said and he nodded agreement. “Lily and Cass will stay up there and block the door. They will have supplies and enough rope to lower themselves down to a boat we tie up below them in the moat. When this fails, they can remain hidden and escape when it’s dark.”
“Just them two?” Pat asked and I glanced at him to see a look of puzzlement on his face.
“If it reaches that point, the rest of us will already be dead,” I said and his expression hardened as he heard my words. I watched his face, my gaze fixed on his and saw no fear there as he nodded curtly.
“I’ll suggest it to them,” he said. “Tell them it will let them keep track of what's happening better.”
“Good,” I said. He understood then that if I suggested it, Lily would be immediately suspicious that I was planning something. But not good natured Pat. No, he wouldn’t do such a thing.
With that settled, I continued on and turned the corner of the large stone building that housed the people of the sanctuary, and found Charlie sat with her back against the crumbling remains of the rear wall. The pretty young woman I had met the day before was seated cross-legged beside her talking animatedly.
Their conversation ceased as we approached and the blonde woman shaded her eyes with one hand as she looked our way. Pat nodded a greeting while I spoke directly to Charlie.
“How’s the drone?”
“Charging slowly,” she said. “Should be ready by mid-afternoon.”
“Good. You know what you need to do?”
“Yeah dude, I’m not stupid. I get it.”
“You’ll be able to operate it from inside?” I waved back at the great hall and she shrugged.
“I can try, but it would be best to be outside.”
“We can put you at the top of the east tower and lock the doors,” Pat suggested.
“Which means I’m proper fucked if you all die and I’m stuck up there alone.”
“Your fate will be the least of our worries if we’re all dead,” I pointed out and she grinned.
“True that.”
“Pat,” I said as I looked over to him. “Start preparing as many weapons as you can and ask Gregg to begin preparations by the gate.”
“Already?”
“I’m not convinced the gate will hold overnight and I’d rather they opened while we can see them.”
“Damn,” he said. “I thought we’d have more time.”
“The longer we wait, the more scared the people here will be,” I said and didn’t try to keep the contempt from my voice. “Best to throw them in at the deep end.”
“Right you are,” he said and trotted away without a backwards glance. I knew he didn’t need me to remind him to speak to Lily and Cass first.
“You think we’ll survive?” the blonde woman asked.
“Course we will Georgia,” Charlie said with the faith of the terminally optimistic.
The blonde woman's face went blank as she looked at Charlie and I had the distinct impression that she was as unimpressed by the optimism as I was. She shook her head and turned back to me.
“Have you managed to convince them to fight yet?”
“No,” I replied. Just that, a one-word answer that didn’t reveal my frustration. She nodded anyway as though she understood.
“Well, I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, but I’m willing.”
“Have you fought the undead before?” I asked, mildly curious.
“I had to take out a few on my way here,” she admitted.
“How?”
“Garden shears and this,” she said as she pulled what at first glance looked to be a long bladed knife from a hidden sheath beneath the waistband of her loose skirt. She held it out to me and I inspected it curiously.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Hori Hori,” she replied. “Japanese trowel, perfect for my herb garden back home.�
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It had a beech wood handle and a carbon steel blade that was at least seven inches long, and an inch wide. One edge was serrated while the other was razor sharp and it was polished to a silvery sheen.
“Impressive,” I said.
“Designed to cut through roots and tough soil, so rotten flesh is no problem,” she said with a grin.
“Do the serrations not get caught on bone?” I asked.
“Once,” she said with a slight pout. “But if you’re prepared for it then it’s not a problem.”
“Is this a weird way of flirting?” Charlie asked and I glanced at her as Georgia clenched her jaw and forced a smile.
“Not at all,” she said.
“No need to be defensive dude,” Charlie replied with a toothy smile. “Just figured if it was, you should stop because his mums on the way over.”
I turned to see that my mother was indeed crossing the dusty courtyard towards us. I went to meet her without saying goodbye and was surprised by a hand on my arm before I had made it halfway. I looked over my shoulder to see the angular face and beaming smile of Georgia.
She leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “I was flirting.” Then with a wink and a low laugh, she skipped away, back towards Charlie who was openly laughing at my consternation.
Strange woman, I thought and put her from my mind as my mother stopped a couple of feet away from me and stood with her arms crossed, head tilted back to allow her to look down her nose at me. Well, she looks annoyed.
“Hello mother,” I greeted amiably enough. “You look well.”
In truth, she looked older than I remembered and I had to think hard to remember how long it had been since I’d last seen her.
“Ryan,” she said by way of greeting and I held back a sigh. It was going to be one of those mornings.
“Can I help you mother? I have a number of tasks to complete and the day is wearing on.”
“That’s it?” she said through clenched teeth. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What would you like me to say?” It would be much easier if she just told me what she wanted but I suspected that wouldn’t happen.
“We thought you were dead,” she said and her lower lip trembled. I couldn’t imagine anything more awkward than if she were to start crying so I really hoped that she wouldn’t.
“I’m not.”
“But we thought you were and then you turned up here. Alive and well, with a young lady you care for.”
“Okay?”
“You didn’t take a minute to greet us, to let us know you were well before you were off again. I could understand that though,” she said. Her voice seemed to be rising with each word and I winced. “After all, you were worried about her. But then you came back and said those horrible things…”
“I apologized.”
“Said those horrible things,” she repeated. “Admitting to doing terrible deeds and then not even taking the time to come and speak with us. We’ve been so worried.”
“To be fair I have been quite busy, what with surviving and trying to prepare to keep you all alive.”
“Don’t be flippant,” she snapped. “You’ve always been distant but I’d hoped that now, after finding out we were alive when you’d come seeking us out, that you’d have some time for us.”
“It wasn’t quite my choice to come here mother,” I said and realized I’d said something wrong as her eyes filled with tears. Where’s Lily when I need her?
“Not your choice! Did you not want to find us, to know we were safe?”
“Can we do this later?”
“No!”
Great. “I’m not like you mother,” I said. Several people had turned to watch the little drama unfold. “Gabriel told me you were all alive so I had no reason to come and see you. I have other business to attend to that would have been better dealt with if I had not needed to stop here.”
“In fact,” I continued. “If Lily had not been injured, we would have stopped here at her insistence for a day or so and then continued on our journey and you would never have had another reason to be disappointed in me.”
I paused as I realised that my own voice had been rising. The frustrations of earlier coming out in my haste to try and end the conversation as quickly as possible. My mother's lips were pressed firmly together and her face bore little expression. Come this far, may as well go all the way.
“Since this began, I have killed many of the undead and living people.” Best not mention before that. “No doubt, there will be many more before this ends because that is the way of the world now and your morals and beliefs are not mine. They never have been.”
Her face bore such a look of profound sorrow that I paused, breath held as I silently willed myself to stop talking.
“Oh I know that my dearest boy,” my mother said and I raised both eyebrows in surprise. “We’ve always known you didn’t believe as we did, but never thought you would ever hurt anyone.”
“You didn’t?” huh, guess you were wrong there mother.
“No and we would never ask you to be anything other than who you are, but just not to throw it in our faces, what you’ve done.”
“Oh…”
“And to stop by and see us,” she added as my eyes went heavenward. Wouldn’t be a family visit without the obligatory guilt trip.
“Once this crisis is over,” If we survive, “I shall make the time to come and see you.”
“And your dad.”
“Yes, and father.”
“Make sure you bring your pretty lady friend too,” she continued. “I’ve only managed to speak with her briefly but she seems very nice.”
“She is mother.”
“And she obviously has a good influence on you,” my mother said as I turned to walk away. She continued talking as she followed along beside me and more than one face of the people who had witnessed our conversation, bore a wide smirk.
“Yes, mother.”
“It would be nice to have another grandchild you know.”
I groaned and silently willed the gates to break open, anything to free me from the conversation. But nothing happened and I was stuck gritting my teeth and listening to her as I set about my tasks while she chattered on happily.
Chapter 21 – Lily
“I don’t agree with this,” Bryan said quietly as we both watched the preparations in the courtyard. “This is wrong.”
“Your people need to learn to defend themselves,” I told him firmly. “You’ve been lucky so far and haven’t needed to defend this place. You’ve still lost people though haven’t you?”
He turned to look at me and I marvelled at the similarities between Bryan and his son. They both had dark hair, though Bryan’s was thinning, but the features were much the same and the older man was still handsome, though he had a few more wrinkles writing the story of his life across his face.
It was clear to see that he was a man who had laughed often throughout his life. Lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes told me that. But there was also a quiet dignity to him that, coupled with an air of command, made him someone you would listen to.
Ryan had something similar, though less mature. If he could truly start to care for strangers, for all people really, then that would be apparent and he would achieve greatness. Sadly, that was unlikely.
“We’ve lost some, yes,” Bryan admitted.
My legs trembled and I clutched the door frame for support as I sucked in a deep breath at the wave of pain that seemed to rush through me. Bryan noticed and reached out solicitously but I waved him away.
“Out there,” I said and gestured at the people gathered in the courtyard that I could see through the glass panels in the tea room doors. “Are people who have survived the worst thing that could ever happen to them.”
“They survived the rising of the undead, the attacks and the deaths of friends and loved ones. Now, they’re here and needing to rebuild their lives. They can’t do that by hiding
away.”
“But by fighting, by killing,” Bryan said as he reached over to grasp the back of one of the plastic chairs and drag it forward to set it next to me. “That’s no way to live.”
I lowered myself into the chair and nodded my thanks to him before I continued. “We had a rough time at the beginning. I won’t go into everything because that would take time we don’t have.”
He nodded and reached back for another chair for himself, a kind gesture that allowed me to speak to him on the same level rather than have him looming over me.
“We thought we’d faced the worst when the zombies overran our safe place, our sanctuary. But we hadn’t,” I said. “Because when we thought we were finally safe, when we thought no one else would die, people came.”
Bryan’s look was understanding and he reached out to take my hand in his own as my voice caught and the memories came rushing back. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to, his very presence was a comfort.
“Friends died, were abused and tortured,” I said and didn’t wipe away the tears as the assault of those vile memories continued. “I took the lives of others, to protect those I loved.”
“And the pain of that is with you now,” Bryan said. “You’re suffering from that action and will do for the rest of your life. To take another's life is a sin that you cannot ever be forgiven for.”
I looked at him with wide eyes and he smiled in a kind way that seemed to say, he meant no insult or judgement by his words.
“We don’t need to be forgiven for doing what we had to,” I said as I pulled my hand from his. “I don’t need to be forgiven for protecting my friends. I will regret the need to do it forever, but no forgiveness is needed or wanted.”
“And I will pray for you,” Bryan said. “But I won’t force my people to fight against their will, to fight for you.”
“It wouldn’t be for me,” I said with heat rising in my voice. “It would be for you. To survive so that your children survive to live in a world where they don’t need to.”
“What happens is Gods will and we will not harm another.”
He said it with such conviction that I just stared at him, mouth hanging open. It was impossible to argue with someone like that, someone so determined to be a martyr.
Killing The Dead 9 (Season 2 | Book 3): Family Matters Page 16