Hellspawn Odyssey

by Ricky Fleet

  “Together, calmly, ok?” John said quietly, talking out the crowbar and waiting a few seconds while the fire dimmed in Kurt’s eyes a little.

  They climbed over the first row of cars as the zombies were stretching out in desperation to reach their breakfast. Swift blows shattered the skulls and the cadavers lay fully dead, spreading pools of green ichor running from the cars shiny paintwork onto the black tarmac.

  “Looks like we go on foot,” Kurt said and ducked instinctively as a large rock seemed to loom out of nowhere and go arcing over his head, smashing through a windscreen by his side. Before they had time to get a bead on the location of the thrower, the mad wailing of the car alarm sounded, ripping through the silent morning.

  “Who the hell threw that?” John called over the din.

  “Fuck knows; I think it came from over there. Shit!” Kurt pointed, looking around and seeing the walking corpses as they streamed from gardens, roads and pavements towards them.

  “Grab the bug out bags, leave the rest!” John shouted at the rest of the survivors who were looking around in terror, momentarily scared stiff, which Kurt always thought was an exaggeration. Sprinting back, he shouted again and they finally came round, shouldering the rucksacks he proffered from the rear doors.

  “What about the suitcases?” Braiden shouted, croaky voice breaking.

  “Too heavy, no time!” Kurt answered bitterly, they were leaving so much behind but life was paramount. Honey was barking and howling in tune with the alarm and the only reason they hadn’t been overrun was the temporary roadblock. Dozens were banging on the vehicle bodywork, with even more joining them by the second.

  “Ok, this way!” John shouted to be heard and they moved off between two houses. John kicked the gate open, crowbar raised in case of attack although the way was clear. They followed his lead and Kurt pulled up the rear, closing the gate and standing two heavy plant pots in front of it to buy them some time.

  The garden was surrounded by brick walls six feet high, the trees were shedding their leaves in beautiful yellows, oranges, and browns, ready for the coming winter. A barbecue was exposed and set up near a set of garden furniture, food was rotting on the cold grill and glasses of fresh poured wine had long been washed clean by falling rain. A party had been interrupted and the group looked around, expecting to see the hosts emerge, ready to eat a fresher meal. The sound of banging on the gate brought them out of their morbid thoughts and they looked around for the best means of escape. Kurt rushed to the back wall and jumped, looked over and saw open fields beyond which would lead to the next village.

  “Come on, we need to get over.” Kurt pulled himself and sat with one leg either side of the wall, assisting the others as they clambered over before landing on the muddy ground of the field. John boosted Gloria and Kurt held her as the two boys lowered her gently.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” she said and Kurt hopped down after her.

  “Let’s move. That noise may work in our favour, clearing some of the roads we will need to take,” John explained and they set off at a brisk pace, stepping carefully over the recently turned soil which was ready for the next crop to be planted.

  Honey was enjoying every minute, the local bird fowl were feasting on the worms and assorted insects that were just below the surface. She would rush over, chasing them away, before coming back to them panting and tail wagging.

  “Stupid dog,” Debbie muttered.

  “Just because your life is empty, don’t take it out on her,” Braiden argued back, sick of the woman and hoping she would fall prey to the stumbling multitude. Peter sniggered and stroked their canine companion, Kurt’s promise giving him some much needed confidence, however when he saw the look Debbie gave him the bravery evaporated.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Gloria warned which stilled the volatile creature.

  They reached the demarcation of the next field and dropped low, watching the events unfolding.

  “Would you look at that?” Sarah whispered in awe.

  The hedgerow shielded them from view and they stared through the gaps. A crowd of zombies, numbering fifty or more were walking back and forth over a compressed patch of earth. The seagulls and other species of birds were herding them, taking off in a blur of feathered wings before settling to the ground again.

  “Why are they doing that?” Paige questioned. No one was sure until Peter spoke up in explanation.

  “Look, they are feeding.” He pointed at the rapidly pecking heads as they cleared the mud, before watching the approach of the festering dead and then taking flight, circling over their heads and landing once more in the space they vacated.

  “It’s the maggots,” Debbie said, trying to still her churning stomach, the nausea giving the group temporary respite from her bitchiness.

  “You’re right; they are using the dead as a food source,” Kurt said with respect. It amazed him how other creatures were making the best of the situation and he felt jealousy of their wings, the way they could escape and hide in the heights. It was completely irrational but he couldn’t shake it.

  “There is a break in the hedge over here,” John informed them after having a quick scout. “When they head south, we make a run for it, keeping close to the hedgerow. Hopefully their attention will be on the flying food.”

  Some birds left, full and content, ready to feed their young. They were replaced by more and the opportunity was there, the ghouls stumbled slowly towards the wildfowl.

  “Go, go, go!” John encouraged and they ran as one, much like the birds they had been observing.

  They kept low as suggested and only one or two of the dead saw them and gave chase; however they were too far away to be a threat. Ducking into the small patch of woodland that separated the main road into Southbourne, they took great care as the tree trunks provided perfect cover for hiding assailants. They came across two that were reaching up and trying to get at a cat that had climbed a tree, it prowled to and fro, spitting and hissing at the dead. Kurt approached carefully and slammed the steel head of his hammer through the brains, killing them and allowing Honey to do what dogs have done since the dawn of time; chase poor cats. The frightened feline blazed down from its perch of safety in the tree and ran off in a ball of fur. Honey only ran a few feet in pursuit before returning obediently to Kurt’s side. She somehow knew that the old games were no longer played and looked up at him, waiting for their next move.

  “Let’s get closer to the road and see what is going on,” Kurt said. The group navigated the small forest and stood under cover of the trees, shaded from view of the groups of zombies who were shuffling towards the faint siren song of the alarm. The alarm would have normally fallen silent but the dead must be hitting it, searching for sustenance and triggering it in a cycle that would cease with the dying battery. Watching patiently, the last of the corpses were gone from sight and the street was mostly clear. Those remaining had seen the cat go running past into a small cottage and pounded on the door.

  “We go slowly. Stick to the middle of the road, away from the gardens. Try every car that we see,” Kurt instructed.

  The attempted murder had worked in their favour, clearing the way for them to make it to the other side of the village. Kurt knew for a fact that if the zombies had not been drawn away they would have faced hundreds instead of a handful. They couldn’t possibly have fought them all and lived. Gloria kept a wary eye on their rear, watching for any movement or sign, either human or once human.

  “Dad, what about that one?” Sam had spotted a Mitsubishi L200, a large pickup truck with rear seats and a flatbed to the rear. “It will carry us all. I can jump in the back with Braiden and the bags,” Sam suggested, thinking how cool it would be to sit there, the breeze running through his hair as the scenery passed in a blur.

  “Go take a look,” Kurt told him and the boys ran off as the rest of the group kept them covered after seeing the trails of blood that led from the vehicle. Sam returned with a set of keys, smiling bro
adly and jangling them at the group. He frowned when he saw the look on their faces, why were they not happy? Then he caught sight of the keychain and the picture that hung from it, a smiling family; mother, father, and two beautiful blonde girls seated before a fake background in a professional photography studio.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sam said, lowering them and feeling rotten.

  “Don’t be, mate, it’s how things are now,” John answered.

  Kurt gave him a quick hug before taking the keys and stepping around the congealed mess. There must have been a hell of a spillage for it to not have washed away in the weather they had been experiencing. They unclipped the rear shelf that acted as a protective cover for the flatbed and placed it to the ground, trying to keep quiet. They climbed in, thoughts of the family that had been dragged from the metal tomb fresh in their minds. Sam, Braiden, and Honey jumped into the back and covered themselves with a couple of the blankets they had taken before fleeing.

  “What route shall we take, the motorway or back roads?” Kurt asked, knowing that neither would be an easy option.

  “Head to the overpass, we can see what it looks like before committing to one or the other,” Peter suggested.

  “Good idea, buckle up.” Kurt started the engine and drove slowly; slaloming between cars and mounting the pavement where he needed to pass a crash scene or multiple vehicles.

  The abundance of mindless flesh eaters increased as they got further from the alarm, they daren’t stop or they would be quickly surrounded and the fate of the key chain family played through Kurt’s mind again. He slowed while passing the local One-Stop grocery store, though they had become the sole focus of far too many zombies to do a quick stop. Honey was leaning out and Kurt watched in the side mirror as her tongue lolled and she squinted from the air that blew in her eyes.

  “I would love a gin and tonic,” commented Gloria as the shop passed and they all chuckled, even Debbie, but as soon as she saw them looking the expression vanished.

  “Here we are,” Kurt told them and slowed to a stop. The bridge was clear and the nearest zombie was minutes away, so they climbed out to witness the true scale of the sight that met them.

  The motorway lanes were totally blocked; there were hundreds of vehicles as far as the eye could see in both directions. Many more thousands of monsters were milling among the cars, wandering aimlessly without a source of food to pursue. It was an awful thing to behold. The terror that must have gripped the people as the roads ground to a halt, seeing that neither side would be able to escape the coming death, then watching from the mirrors as a tsunami of rotting flesh washed away all life in its path, adding to the overall power of the torrent. Below there came the mass groans of another group who had gathered in the shelter of the overpass, a strange behavioural anomaly for creatures without fear.

  “I guess it’s the back roads then,” John said, climbing into the pickup.

  No one spoke any more, there was nothing that could be said that would allow the horror to be unseen. They just put it to the back of their minds to process later, when they were alone and all was dark and quiet. They drove in silence, heading through Ashling Village, a beautiful hamlet of century’s old cottages, farmhouses, stables, and water mills that ran along the river, once grinding wheat for the local bakers. The small pond that Kurt had taken Sam to feed ducks when he was younger was now awash with zombies. They must have fallen in trying to reach the nests that were built in the middle of the water, the ducks hadn’t waited around but flew away to safer places. The small wall that surrounded it was now a barrier to the damned, meaning they walked around, waist deep in quickly festering water. He was so fixated on the sight that he nearly missed the cars in the road. Slamming the brakes on, the truck skidded and came to rest with the front end perilously close to the water’s edge and the eager dead who would welcome them.

  “Sorry, that was stupid,” Kurt apologised and he looked back to see Honey pick herself up and shake off, the sudden stop had propelled her into Sam and Braiden. Sam was holding his face, blood running down and dripping from his chin. Kurt’s heart leaped in fear, he had hurt his own son.

  “Sam, are you ok? I’m so sorry, mate.” Kurt ran to him and hugged him over the side of the pickup.

  “I’b ok, Dad, it’s just by dose,” Sam said, the bruised nose causing him to speak awkwardly. Honey was whining, upset at the distress of the young boy and trying to paw at him.

  “I’m really sorry,” Kurt repeated, nearly crying. Sam tried to smile to reassure his dad, yet his bloodied teeth and crimson chest from the broken blood vessels only served to make him feel worse. Honey licked them both, trying the same approach.

  The family had climbed out and the dead in the pond were splashing around like excited children in a swimming pool. The small local cemetery had given up its deceased, the varying state of decay was evidence of recent burial as well as those long in slumber. Some had rotted down to barely skeletons, loose tatters of flesh and skin remaining but little else. Others were from the local population, fresher, but missing limbs and flesh from the grisly end they met at the bony hands of the previous generations.

  “What is the time?” Paige asked.

  “Three twenty,” Peter said, looking at his watch.

  “Thanks Pete.” She smiled at him warmly. “Do you think we should find somewhere safe for the night?”

  “This is as good a place as any, low population and most of those are having a dip.” Kurt indicated over his shoulder.

  “Let’s find a place set back from this road, we can set out fresh in the morning and try to move those cars. I don’t relish being on foot after dark,” John advised and they loaded up the bags, looking down driveways for a suitable abode.

  Chapter 5

  They settled on Whyke Farm, which was a farm in name only. The increase of automation and technology had necessitated far fewer farmsteads in each area. The old building had been made into a family home long ago and sold for a premium price; people loved the nostalgia and architecture of the age. Low ceilings held aloft by thick, dark timbers, inglenook fireplaces that were once used for cooking and heating, though most now stood empty, replaced by modern electrical appliances. The cobbled driveway was immaculately tended with tidy hedges at each side and seasonal flowers in bloom in the beds at their base, holding on for the final drop in temperature that would herald their demise until the warmth of the spring returned. Gloria scanned the area, Sam helping with a bearing at the ready. Honey sniffed the air and they watched her intently, satisfied when she wagged her tail that the immediate area was safe.

  They circled the thatched farmhouse, checking windows for signs of movement and life, or death. All was still within and the lack of cars outside hinted at the owners being gone. Reaching the rear door which was set back in a small alcove, they tried the latch and it was open. People in this type of area were more neighbourly and trusting than those in the larger cities or population centres. The iron banded door creaked on aged hinges and the smell that escaped was musty but not unpleasant, a mixture of wood, smoke, and flowery fragrances.

  “Hold back, I will check it out,” Kurt said while wielding the hammer and stepping through into the shadowed kitchen area. Honey followed swiftly but showed no fear, she just started sniffing in the corners at the new scents, fascinated at one spot but Kurt could see nothing out of the ordinary there and the dog just regarded him with a look that said, ‘well you’re not a dog are you?’ before sniffing again.

  He opened the lounge door and the smell of stale smoke and wood grew, the source was an original Aga solid fuel oven that had been installed in the inglenook fireplace. The inset bread oven was still complete with the iron door, and old hooks were bedded into the cement to hang cooking pots from over the old coals. The floors of the room were hand carved stone laid in small mosaic pieces with soft sofas and armchairs facing the widescreen television. The wooden smell was from the large scuttle of logs and kindling that sat to one side of the Aga, combined
with the warped and twisted timbers of the ceiling. Kurt paused, listening intently and Honey did the same, her ears pricking up for any sounds. The silence was total.

  “It’s safe, come on in,” Kurt shouted and he heard the shuffle of many footsteps on the flagstone floor of the kitchen.

  “Sam, can you get those candles lit?” John asked as he stepped into the lounge.

  “Ahhh,” Debbie sighed happily, slumping into the sofa and putting her feet up.

  “We have stuff to do before we get comfortable,” Gloria informed her.

  “I am having a rest if you don’t mind,” she replied dismissively and looked away.

  “Fine, when we have secured the house, you sleep outside with the doors locked,” Kurt said with no animosity, he was done with her and would drag her by the hair, kicking and screaming if necessary into the cold night.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Debbie hissed but the look in his eyes told her not to push the point.

  “We will see I guess.” Kurt smiled. “Ok, Dad, take Sam and Braiden and check upstairs. Paige, please shut all the curtains and move the candles away from the windows, we don’t want to be a beacon. Gloria, would you mind getting the fire lit? Peter, could you get some pans ready and see if there is anything worthwhile in the pantry to eat? I’d rather save our provisions.”

  “What about you and Sarah? I suppose you get to sit around doing nothing, just barking orders,” Debbie asked, looking for support from the rest of the group and getting none.

  “I am going to go and check that old barn out the back. I saw a chopping block and a solid looking axe, maybe they have some good equipment we can use,” Kurt explained to them, ignoring Debbie. “Sarah, would you mind checking for water in the taps and tanks?”

  “Not at all,” she replied, staring at Debbie then hurrying off to the task.