Deserted with the Dead (Book 3): Fearland
Page 2
Tara looked at the three men intently.
“We heard a shot. What happened?”
Rick and David exchanged another glance, making a silent decision for the sake of the cohesion of the group – a group that very much needed one another's skills to survive in this dangerous world – the bottom line was, they couldn't afford to lose a member of the team...
“He got jumped in there,” David said as he lied convincingly, “The twat forgot his gun so I had to do his dirty work for him. Main thing is, no one was hurt. Now let's move on, shall we?”
That question had been directed at Jason, who nodded gratefully as David looked away in disgust and then shot a warning glance to Rick, telling him not to kick off about Jason's revolting preferences.
Then as Jason hurried over to Sandra's car and got in, David and Rick took their places in their vehicles, and the convoy moved off, leaving the majority of the group in the dark about what had really happened back in the shady woodland.
They stayed on the highway, watching the sign posts and checking maps, ever mindful of the task they faced: To find a monster, a human monster, and his fearsome army...
As they drove along Tara asked about the attack in the woods and David answered briefly, saying little as he kept his sights on the horizon and kept on driving, thinking about how this world had changed and brought with it horror and also new disgusting preferences for those who were twisted enough to find it appealing...with so many infected living and reanimated corpses walking around, of course eventually there would be some who found the infected alluring. He could not work out why, and he was glad about that, and that was as far as he wanted to think about it as David took the lead, driving onward as the convoy went on, still in search of the man named Mortiz.
Chapter 2: Banding Together
They travelled on. As the miles passed by and the convoy stopped to refuel, to rest and replenish supplies where they could, the journey was hard, with clusters of hordes dotted here and there along the route, blocking the way to petrol stations and supermarkets that had been abandoned but despite the looting still contained enough food to keep them going on their journey.
The open countryside was the place where to see a reanimated corpse was indeed a rare sight, now and then they passed at the roadside, gnawing at chunks of flesh, sometimes bones, all with a starving look in their eyes even when blood dripped from their mouths. They would watch as the cars passed by, unable to do a thing about the warm blooded food supply inside as it sped on its way and then headed out of sight.
The passing days were hard on the travellers, with miles of open countryside stretching on ahead as they stayed to the plan and the most logical route for a large convoy to travel. Then the clues began to emerge – wrecked vehicles shoved aside, as if a travelling unit of something mighty had ploughed through them, more vehicles dotted about the roadside, the tarmac scarred from the force used to shift them... Perhaps they had been smashed aside by other travellers, perhaps not. It was all encouragement for the convoy as it went on, seeking out the likeliest route that Mortiz would have taken...
Now the motorway was wide and clear ahead and the fields deserted and no sign of living dead dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see, as the night wore on and four am approached, they stopped at the roadside as they had almost every night for the past three weeks, ready to rest and sleep and prepare for more travelling the next day – travelling that was often hampered by undead. Smashing through them would have covered the cars in blood so purely for the sake of hygiene on the long journey they had often taken slow and careful detours, dodging the starving creatures, watching as they ran after the vehicles in a hopeless pursuit, until they became dots in the distance and once again had left them far behind. The passing weeks had been tough on all of them, toughest for Rick, whose thoughts never strayed far from their purpose as he held on to his vow to see the day when Mortiz would pay for the mall massacre. The episode in the woodland had not been forgotten by Rick or David, both shot disapproving looks in Jason's direction, looks that set his nerves on edge as he wished they could just forget what they had seen...
That night as night passed to the approaching dawn and a firelight flickered to cast off the cold steel grey of the coming morning, as Sandra slept in the car and David and Tara rested by the fire, Toby was on watch further up the road, pacing slowly about the ghostly highway, watching for signs of undead with his weapon ready. Rick was standing by the fire, he was not tired because he and Lois had taken turns at driving and he had already slept for more than five hours, now as he gently rubbed at the end of his wrist and felt relieved he had taken off the metallic hand for while, he looked thoughtfully down at the flames as the kindling crackled, then he sat down beside Lois, who had brought cushions from the car.
“I worry sometimes,” he said quietly, looking over to David and Tara, seeing they were sleeping and keeping his voice low, “I worry about you, Lois. If things get rough – and they will when we find Mortiz -”
“Don't worry about me,” she said softly, “I'll be fine. You must make sure you come out of this in one piece, okay?”
He saw fear in her eyes, fear for him and in that moment she had never looked so beautiful as the firelight softened her face. He reached out and swept her dark hair back and leant in and kissed her tenderly.
“Of course I'll come back in one piece!” he said, laughing even though it felt like such a lie the reality of the situation chilled him to the bone, “Nothing will happen to me – I've got too much to live for. I've got you, us!”
“Promise me?”
He was still looking into her eyes as the firelight flickered. Lois had no idea what she was asking of him – probably the impossible, he had seen what Mortiz and his army were capable of, he knew this was going to get very rough indeed, perhaps the kind of rough there would be no coming back from..but Lois didn't realise that and he felt sure to break her heart would break his own, so he smiled and nodded and told a lie, the one that she needed to hear.
“Of course I promise, Lois! Nothing will happen to me, I swear!”
Then as Jason walked over to a dented, buckled crash barrier and looked out to the darkened fields, he noticed her gaze had shifted to him, and lingered there.
“What is it about Jason?” he asked, “I know you can't stand the guy, but sometimes you look at him like....I don't know, like something's haunting you.”
The night was peacefully giving way to the coming dawn and so still as the fire flickered. It seemed like now would be as good a time as any to admit to the truth...
“I've got a son,” she said to Rick, “He's eight years old and safe in London. I left him to try and find a place out here for us – somewhere better, somewhere safer.”
Rick raised an eyebrow as surprise registered in his gaze.
“A son? You have a kid? You never told me!And how can London be safe, it's teeming with those things..all the major cities are!”
“But he's underground...an old closed down tube train station...it's been closed down for many years, but it was a safe place for some of us parents to put our kids. They've been left in the care of teachers and soldiers to protect the place... I was lucky, not everyone could get their child in there in time.”
Rick looked to the firelight as he paused for thought, then he looked to Lois as something dawned on him.
“I asked you about Jason.”
She nodded.
“We had a one night stand many years ago He's the father of my son. When I say father I mean, sperm donor. He didn't' know about the baby and I never saw him again after that night.”
“You went with him?” he exclaimed, a look of disgust on his face as he looked to the man who stood with his hands in his pockets looking over the barrier and into the darkened fields beyond, “Him?” he said again.
“Why do you say that like it's so shocking? I made a mistake that night but my son wasn't a mistake.”
“Oh no, I wasn't criticising you!
” he said in surprise, then he thought again about what he and David had witnessed in the woodland...For a moment he considered how Lois had never as much as smiled in Jason's direction, then he remembered all she had just told him – this wasn't purely out of the need to protect what was his, this was also because she needed to know...
“Listen,” he whispered, leaning closer to her as they sat together, “Keep it to yourself but he wasn't attacked in the woods...We said that to keep the harmony here, because we need to stick together...he was shagging this woman...poor thing was half gone, not dead, infected, half turned...helpless and vacant, mindless...he was abusing that poor creature. David put a bullet in her head. And I gave Jason a smack in the face. I hit him hard for it.”
Her jaw dropped as her eyes widened. She looked over at Jason then back to Rick.
“He did what? No... Really? Urggh! That's vile!”
“I guess there's probably a few out there who take advantage of them,” Rick added, “But they can't help themselves, the living infected who don't fully turn end up wandering about helpless... they should be looked after, not treated like that. He's disgusting. He even said to us how much he liked them!”
Her gaze turned frosty as she glanced over again at Jason.
“He lied to get me into bed all those years ago,” she replied, “It wouldn't surprise me, what he's become!”
“I bet he's not the only one, too,” Rick added in a low voice, “It's a whole new brand of perversion coming about with how the world is today...He's only still part of the team because we need the numbers. If it was up to me and we didn't need him, I'd leave him at the roadside, he makes me sick!”
“Me too,” Lois said quietly as she looked to the fire, frowning as she recalled the young man who had seduced her long ago, “Oh god, I never want to speak to him again!”
“Let's go back to the car,” Rick said, and he got up and took her hand and together they walked back to their waiting vehicle, as Toby stayed on watch and Jason, further up the road, continued to look over the crash barrier, watching wheat fields sway in the sharp early morning air.
When daybreak came, after eating a tinned meal cooked on the fire, the convoy moved on. At first the journey was yet more of the same, fields and the odd wrecked car, here and there houses standing ghostly with broken windows and curtains flapping in the breeze as if they were trying to escape once charming homes that now stood abandoned, looking haunted.
Then something new and ghastly came into sight – recently wrecked cars, their bodywork still shining in the sunlight despite the dents and broken glass and twisted metal, and as they drew closer, something else was horribly apparent: Bodies littered the roadside, none were in the cars, all were on the road, beside the road, some in the parking area to the entrance of a nearby diner that had been smashed up. There were tyre marks all over the road just up head, twisting and spiralling, almost pretty to the eye if not for the fact that it led to this...
David took in the sight of it, looking past the bodies to the marks etched upon the road surface – they had been coming away from somewhere up ahead, and clearly, ambushed...this was not the work of the undead...
As the convoy slowed then stopped, they all got out of their cars, surveying the scene of horror. David looked to Tara and she shook her head.
“Blood still shining on the ground... this is hours old... Oh shit...it's too familiar...”
David nodded, one sweeping glance of he dismembered bodies, the heads cut off, the bodes cut in half, the parts scattered about the area like some kind of horrible decoration shining red against the blackness of the tarmac...
“It looks exactly like the work of Mortiz,” he said in a low voice.
“I was just thinking the same,”Tara replied, glancing again at the tyre marks in the road, “They were headed this way...and then they caught up with them. He must have been chasing them.”
“Or tailing them,” David replied.
Rick was out of the car and standing close to the roadside, a look of horror on his face as in his mind's eye, he recalled the people back at the mall, all slaughtered in cold blood by Mortiz. As he turned his head the breeze ruffled his hair.
“It's him. The bastard who killed my people back at the plaza, he did this – it can't be down to the undead, they're not eaten... there's nothing about this to say it was a corpse attack. And look at them... killed by swords...Oh no, I can't look at them...”
He turned away sharply, dragging in a breath as he blinked away tears and grief hit him all over again as he found solace in her arms as Lois embraced him.
David looked at Tara, his gaze darkened by sorrow and rage at the sight of the carnage handed out by Mortiz.
“I see no reason why he killed them...small group of travellers, wouldn't have had much worth stealing...that diner over there was wrecked long ago...why?”
Tara drew in a slow breath and let it out, hand reaching for her gun as she clutched it tightly, knowing what would have to be done.
“We need to check that place out just in case of survivors...it 's unlikely, but perhaps?”
“They're all dead,” Rick said sadly as he looked again at the sight of the bodies strewn about the roadside, “That bastard leaves no one alive.”
“He left you alive,” David reminded him.
“To tell the tale,” Rick replied, “That was when he took Carrie, the scientist. These people...I see no hint of anything remotely scientific here...”
As the others cast their gaze about the scene, all they saw were blankets, scattered packets of dried food and tins, cast aside weapons with ammo spent.
David looked up the road ahead, taking in the sight of the marks on the tarmac once again.
“They were running from him,” he said, “And they got this far and no further...” he looked up the road, into the distance, where hills rolled in shades of greenery as the road dipped and rose and cut through it, “At least we know we're on the right track. Come on Tara – we'll check out the diner...the rest of you, stay here.”
Picking their way over bodies and body parts and avoiding pools of blood was the hardest challenge, but as they stepped clear of the final body and David led the way through a shattered doorway as glass crunched under the soles of his heavy boots. Tara followed and the pair of them stood in the middle of the diner, where the stink of rotting food filled the air as flies buzzed about in the early summer heat and the stench of the place grew close and hot thanks to the wide glass windows that pulled in the heat of the morning like a greenhouse.
“We should leave,” Tara said, turning her face away from a large beef joint sat on the counter, stinking and crawling with maggots as flies buzzed in a furious black dotted blur around it.
Then a faint sound made them both freeze in their tracks, looking to the counter as somewhere behind it, a gasp was faintly repeated.
“I'll go first,” David said, and Tara followed as they went around to the other side of the counter, where on the tiled floor, amid broken plates and rotting food and splattered sour milk tainted pink with splashes of blood, a woman. She was on her back, her white dress stained crimson and her face pale as the last of her life ran out of her, pooling beneath her in a congealed stink of blood many hours old.
“Who did this?”
She looked up at the man beside her, drawing in short, rapid breaths as she struggled to focus and summon strength to speak. Her long fair hair was trailed into the pool of her own blood, staining it scarlet and drying dark and stiff, she had a gaping wound to her side and by the amount of blood that was on the floor, she wouldn't last long enough to have a hope of survival.
“Mor...tiz...” she gasped, her eyes closing.
“Mortiz did this to you? Why?”
“We...we...ran..from...” her lips parted, her breathing slowed, as if the effort of forming the words had been too much.
Tara was beside her now, crouching low to the floor and avoiding the rapidly growing pool of blood as she looked to the
woman who had now fallen still as her breathing grew weaker.
“Mortiz?” she repeated, “You ran? Where from? Where is he?”
The woman's eyes flickered open then closed again as her breath became short and delicate, soft as the beat of butterfly wings as she held on, trying to breathe and keep breathing as weakness washed over her.
David shook his head.
“I don't think she can tell us any more,” he said quietly, “She doesn't have long...”
“One more try,” Tara replied, looking to the dying woman.
“We want to help,” she said, “Please, if you can help us, if you can lead us to him, we can stop him, did you hear me? Where is he?”
The woman's eyes stayed closed, her breathing shallow as her lips parted and her breaths grew weaker.
David looked to Tara again, keeping his voice low as he got up.
“Let's go,” he said.
Then the world flipped sideways for Tara as she was slammed down into the bloody pool on the floor, hitting the tiled ground with a thud as she gave a gasp and blood spattered her clothing as the woman's grip on her arms stayed like a vice as she held her there, locking on to her gaze as she drew a last breath and spoke a single word:
“Fearland!”
Then the woman's grip slid away as she breathed her last, falling still and dead with eyes open, still locked on Tara's alarmed gaze.
As he helped her up, Tara's clothing was soaked in blood and her face and hair spattered with it. She was visibly shocked as she stepped away from the body and David led her out of the diner, slowly and carefully, aware that she was visibly shaken by the dying woman's sudden movement.
“Fearland?” he wondered aloud as they passed through the broken door and walked over shards of glass, a wrecked path that thankfully led back to the outside and the smell of clean air, although it was punctuated by the stench of death as the breeze rose and fell, passing over the bodies that littered the parking area.
They took a path close to the wall, walking around the scene of carnage to make their way back to the others, who were standing there, looking on in alarm to see Tara with her clothes soaked and face spattered with blood.