Legion Of The Undead_Rise and Fall

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Legion Of The Undead_Rise and Fall Page 26

by Michael Whitehead


  There had been no need to worry, the coil of rope sailed out and over the wall of the barracks. The end of the rope lay in a small snake many feet into the compound. Hakor quickly ran from his hiding place and took up the end of the rope, he disappeared again briefly. Vitus had a horrible thought that they were all about to risk their lives on the knot tying skills of this man that nearly all of them had never met.

  After a moment the big man below them waved and put up his thumbs. Vitus looked around the roof and had a moment when he couldn’t see anything to tie the rope onto. Again it was the quick mind of Regulus that had the best idea. He opened the door to the stairs to reveal a heavy iron hand rail that the rope could be attached to. Vitus set about securing the rope, pulling it as tight as possible.

  “Go and fetch the doctor and Gallus,” Vitus told Tatius. The legionary rushed down the stairs out of sight. He turned to the rest of the group. “I’m going to tie your packs to the rope with a loose knot. You will need to go down the rope feet first. Hook your legs over the rope and go hand over hand down. Your packs will be tied to your belts and should just follow behind as you move. Go quickly but don’t stop unless you have to. There is more chance you will be seen, the longer you are out there and your arms will get tired quickly."

  If it had just been the few soldiers up on the roof he might have fashioned a system where they could slide quickly down the rope. With there being so many people he couldn’t risk the rope fraying too much. He also didn’t like the chances of some of the others keeping their nerves in check while they sailed out over the street.

  The street below was a bloody river of death and destruction. More than half of the people were dead, those that weren’t were injured or dying. Many of the Risen had stopped their killing and were instead eating the flesh of those on the floor, in many cases their victims were still among the living.

  “Regulus, you first,” Vitus said, while tying the boy's pack to the rope. He tied a second length to Regulus’ belt, it meant he would pull his kit behind him as he made his way along the rope. The knots that joined the lengths of rope were small and tight, they should cause no problem to the loose loops that tied the packs. There were only three knots that might be a problem as the fourth one was out past the wall of the barracks.

  Lucia leaned in and gave Regulus an earnest kiss before he reached up and took hold of the rope. Vitus helped him hook his legs over and watched as he crossed his ankles. Slowly he moved out over the crowded street, hand over hand. He pulled his pack behind him, as the group huddled around each other in search of comfort. Their group was family and one of their family was in danger.

  Regulus reached the halfway point, the rope making a bowed shape with his weight, he moved slowly but never stopped. Below the undead had killed almost everybody in the street, the light from the flames of the city made the ground look black and slick with blood.

  It wasn’t too long before Regulus had passed over the wall of the barracks and was dropping down to the ground. Hakor helped him untie his pack and the young man leaned on his stick to walk into the barrack block.

  Lucia followed. Regulus had been slower than she was, due to his injury. She moved with a grace and speed that soon carried her to safety. Vitus next sent Chin Handan over the gap, she was nervous at first but soon found her rhythm and reached the yard safely. Vitus watched Lee as his mother was in the air, his small hands were white, gripping the edge of the wall surrounding the roof. He released a long breath when his mother put her feet on solid ground once more.

  Vitus knew he wasn’t the first to see the coming problems but he carried on with his plan because he had no other choice. There were two members of the party that would not make the journey so easily. Naoki, Lee’s grandfather, was very old and Tulius, Garic’s son, was still an infant. He withdrew himself from the group, better to step back and think about the problem.

  Garic was the most obvious man to carry his son but he was also the heaviest. The rope should have no problem holding the butcher's weight but with his son added, it could be too much. Gallus was a more wiry build and would have no problem holding the boy, especially if the infant was tied to him. He called Garic and Atia over to him and explained the situation as he saw it.

  Atia would not hear of passing her son over to the legionary. She insisted she could carry the boy herself. Vitus was not sure but in the end he had no choice, he had to respect her wishes. He decided that Garic would be the next man to go and then Atia.

  Garic was not the right build for this mission but he had turned a fair amount of his bulk to muscle over the weeks he had spent on the wall. He grasped the rope and with a struggle managed to get his legs in place. The rope began to sag quite considerably, Vitus worried that this might be one journey too far. If the rope snapped, those on this side would be cut off. There would be no way to get the rope back onto the roof from the ground below.

  The butcher inched his way to the middle of the rope. It was now, if at all, that the rope would snap one of its knots, but they seemed to be holding. Below Garic, the undead were feasting on the remains of their kills and remained oblivious of what passed over their heads.

  Trouble waited at the barrack wall. Vitus hadn’t seen how close to the lip the rope had sagged with the big man’s weight. He didn’t have the clearance to edge his bulk over the top of the wall. His feet butted up to the edge but he had neither the strength or the agility to clamber over.

  “Quick, grab the rope and pull,” Vitus called to the legionaries on the roof. They each took a firm grip and leaned back to pull. The rope grew tighter and gradually the space between the top of the wall and the rope began to grow.

  Garic edged himself over the wall and down to safety. The three men relaxed the rope, panting as they did.

  “You’re next, Gallus,” he said to the legionary. “Give me a moment to re-tie the rope.” The legionary nodded his understanding and waited while Vitus pulled the rope taught and refastened it to the railing. He took about three feet of slack out of the line. He hoped it was from the rope stretching and not that any of the knots had slipped. He tried to look out across the gap and examine the knots but the light just wasn’t good enough.

  He nodded to Gallus, who was sliding down the rope almost as fast as if he had been flying. Vitus watched him trying to judge the knots as he passed them, they seemed to be holding fast.

  Vitus turned to Tatius and Naoki, Lee and Atia. “We have some decisions to make here,” he said to the group. “Atia, I think you should go next but I want you to think hard about taking your son with you. Tatius is easily strong enough to carry him and we will tie the boy to his chest, it is the safest thing to do.”

  “No, I can’t let anyone else take him. If I can’t carry him myself then I will have to stay here,” she said through a thin veil of tears.

  “If you get half way across and he is too heavy for you, there is nothing I can do to help you. You know that, don’t you?” he asked her.

  “I know that,” she nodded.

  “If you fall, you both die. You know that as well?” He felt bad asking her these questions but better that than have them both fall to their deaths.

  “I’m doing it,” she said and a defiance crossed her face that Vitus was glad to see. They spent the next few minutes tying the child to her chest, he became restless but being in close contact with his mother kept him from crying.

  When they had finished, the boy was tied face to face with his mother. She took up her position on the rope and Vitus asked her one more time, “Are you sure you can do this?”

  She nodded and doggedly inched her way out above the feeding undead. The bodies were no more than skeletons in many cases as she fed one hand over the other above them. The light from the burning city showed skulls with empty sockets, staring blindly into the night sky.

  Atia showed the strength of a mother. Vitus could see her gripping the rope with knuckles that showed white even in the faint light. She gritted her teeth and passed
the rope through her hands. At one point she stopped and Vitus thought she may have reached the limit of her strength but she only adjusted her grip and continued. The boy at her chest made no sound until they were on the ground.

  Vitus let out a sigh, releasing the teeth he hadn’t realised he had clamped together with tension. He turned to Lee and his grandfather.

  “Naoki, you are next,” he said to the old man. Lee translated but the doctor shook his head. Lee said something to his grandfather but the old man shook his head once more and said something to his grandson that brought tears to the boys eyes.

  “He says he won’t go!” Lee almost shouted at Vitus.

  Vitus had been waiting for this, he had seen in the old man’s face that he had no intention of crossing the rope bridge. He lifted his hands to show Vitus, they had the bunched and gnarled look of arthritis. These same hands had saved Regulus’ life performing surgery of the most delicate nature but did not have the strength to carry him along the rope.

  Lee began to argue with Vitus and his grandfather in two different languages.

  “Why can’t you carry him?” he said to Vitus and then furiously said something to his grandfather without waiting for an answer. Vitus felt for the boy, he liked him a lot but the old man was not to be moved. Tears streamed down Lee’s face as he realised neither of the men had an answer to his questions.

  “If he won’t go, I won’t go either,” Lee said with a defiant stamp of his foot. For a moment Vitus was reminded of how young he really was. Lee then turned to his grandfather and repeated the line.

  The old man said something to his grandson. It sounded kind to Vitus and the centurion saw the look on Lee’s face turn to despair. Tears began to flow down the boy’s cheeks and before the old man was finished, Lee had thrown his arms around his grandfather's neck. He covered the old man’s face in kisses, Vitus turned away to give them privacy, feeling the sour prick of tears in his own eyes. He had desperately wanted to get all of them out of the city but it seemed one of them would be left behind.

  Vitus reached a hand to grip Lee’s shoulder but the boy brushed it aside. It was an act of bravery, not malice and Vitus’ heart went out to the boy. Naoki spoke to Lee once more and the boy began to translate for his grandfather.

  “I will stay here, I never intended to come, I will only become a burden,” he began. “It seems my journey must end here but I gladly go, knowing my family will live on after me. Treat the boy as your own and care for his mother, she is strong but will need you in the days to come.” Lee finished translating and buried his face in his hands. Vitus nodded his head and reached his hand forward to take the old man in his grip. They shook hands, Vitus was careful not to crush the doctor’s delicate bones.

  There was a shout from the other side of the street, Vitus turned to see Gallus pointing back at the building on which they stood. As he looked a Risen reached the top of the wall and onto the roof. Vitus drew his sword and advanced on the creature.

  “Go now, Lee!” he shouted at the boy as he stabbed his blade at the Risen’s forehead. The undead dropped to the ground but more were climbing onto the roof. Vitus was vaguely aware of the doctor helping his grandson onto the rope and Lee beginning his descent. He moved quickly and surely as the young often do.

  Vitus swept a huge blow across the face of a second Risen, cleaving a streak of black blood across the night air. Beside him the old man appeared, holding two blades out before him. Vitus stabbed up and under the chin of a third creature but the fight was becoming one he couldn’t win, more and more were coming.

  The old man shouted something at him. He had no way of knowing what the words were but the meaning was obvious. Vitus glanced at the old man once more, he had dispatched one Risen and was calmly fighting a second. He moved with ease and grace but the fight was too much for him to win.

  Vitus turned and grabbed at the strap of a pack, swinging it onto his shoulder. The more food and equipment they left behind, the worse their chances of survival in the days to come. He took two long strides toward the edge of the roof and threw himself forward. He felt the grasping hand of a Risen claw at his back as he jumped. He grasped the rope with both hands and felt his weight stretch the line to its furthest point, he was sure it must give under his weight. There was a moment when it seemed to tense and spring back but the jump had been too much, the rope snapped and he was catapulted toward the wall opposite.

  He hit the top of the wall hard, almost losing his grip on the rope. For a second his feet dangled inches above the grasping hands of the leaping undead beneath him, then he was being pulled upward by hands he couldn’t see. He clung to the rope and waited for the hands below him to find his feet and drag him to his death.

  Hands from above grabbed at his armour and he felt the top of the wall scrape under his chest plate. He rolled onto the walkway of the wall and turned to look at the roof opposite. He was just in time to see the old man turn the blade of one of his swords toward his own throat and then fall to his knees and out of sight. The undead did not get their victim alive.

  “Quickly, inside!” Vitus heard Garic shout behind him. “They’re coming!”

  Vitus blindly got to his feet and ran toward the open barracks door. Garic was three steps ahead of him and Gallus was leading the way. They all reached the door together and slammed it behind them. The sound of the undead crashing into the outside came to them through the reinforced door.

  Vitus fell back against the wall of the corridor and took in deep shuddering breaths. A hand reached for his shoulder and he looked up to see Garic, a panicked look in his eyes.

  “You saved my life,” he said to the face above him.

  “We aren’t close to even,” Garic replied.

  From further down the corridor, Vitus heard the hysterical crying of Chin Handan, evidently she had heard of the fate of her father. Her son would need to be a rock for her in the coming days but first they must get out of the city. Vitus pushed his way to the front of the group, Garic was standing with a dark-skinned man, they were both framed in an open doorway.

  “This one,” Garic said to Vitus, pointing into the open door to the office beyond. Vitus saw the trapdoor immediately. The kind of thing that you could enter this room and not notice a thousand times. He thanked the gods for the quick witted ex-slave that had seen it for what it was. He reached to take the Egyptian’s hand, they shook briefly.

  Garic reached down and pulled the hatch open. Behind them the sound of thudding on the door was almost constant but the reinforced door showed no sign of giving way. A rush of cold air came up out of the trapdoor, the promise of escape was carried on its breath.

  “You two first,” Vitus said to Garic and Hakor. “Lead us out of here.”

  The two men nodded to him and each other. Hakor climbed down first, the only one to have been in the tunnel, Garic was close on his heels. One after another the members of their disparate group dropped into the darkness beyond. For once that darkness held hope, not fear.

  Eventually three people remained, Vitus walked toward the prone figure of Handan as she lay sobbing on the floor. Lee was kneeling next to her, crying and speaking softly into her ear. Vitus joined him and gave him a brief one armed hug.

  “Your father was a brave man,” Vitus said to her. “But he knew he could never make the crossing into the yard. He chose to stay behind and save the rest of us. He saved my life.”

  Handan made no move, she lay on the floor, all thought of herself lost in her devastation. Lee looked at Vitus with fear and panic in his eyes. He had lost one of the most important people in his life and now the other was in need of something he couldn’t give her.

  The sound of a window breaking came from one of the rooms in the barracks. Vitus decided there was no more time to waste. He gripped Handan by her shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position.

  “Your father sacrificed himself to save you,” he said to the red, tear-streaked face before him. “If you give up now, he will have die
d for nothing. Now get to your feet and save your son.” He spoke harshly to her but at the mention of Lee a hard edge came over her face.

  Handan pulled herself to her feet as more glass could be heard breaking. Lee half dragged her to the trapdoor and the two of them made their way into the darkness. Vitus took one last look up the corridor and saw the figure of a Risen break through one of the doors as he closed the hatch above his head.

  Epilogue

  Regulus woke screaming in the night. For a wild moment he had no idea where he was. The stars above him were a brilliant pattern of light and colour in the darkness. The embers of a fire smouldered in the middle of the makeshift camp. The sleeping forms of his companions made him wonder if the scream had been in his dream and had not reached his lips in the waking world. Lucia slept soundly next to him.

  He had been in the black glass temple, once more. The blood that flowed down the walls and the feeling of dread and agony that pervaded his soul, when in that place, now a familiar sensation. He had faced the priest in the hooded robe and the familiar battle of wits had begun, this time however, it had ended differently.

  Regulus had been asking the same questions he had asked so many times before. “Who are you, where are we?” He had been receiving the same goading and evasive answers in return. Then Regulus had used the name Viddus. It was the name he had been given by the priest in Rome. He did it to see the reaction on the face under the hood.

  The violence that had attacked him as he had used the name had been unexpected and worse than anything he had ever experienced. Pain shocked every muscle in his body, forcing him to drop to his knees and clutch at himself in hope of salvation. A head cleaving sound attacked his senses. Putting his hands to his ears had done nothing to ease his agony. As soon as the blast had begun it was over and he was expelled from the temple with such force it almost tore him in two.

 

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