Devouring The Dead (Book 2): Nemesis

by Watts, Russ

  Leonard ran to the corner of the attic and for a moment, the tall man seemed confused, unsure of whether to follow him or jump on Billy who was prostrate on the floor only four feet away. There was a small pile of unused wooden planks and floorboards, and Leonard grasped one. It was about three feet long but solid, the same type they had used to board up one of the attic windows. Leonard charged at the tall man, swinging the plank and bringing it crashing down onto the man’s head.

  Again, the tall man stumbled, but did not fall down. Leonard was sure he had struck the man firmly and sure enough, when he lowered the plank, he saw the man’s head cocked to one side, his jaw broken. Still, the man kept coming.

  “I told you to leave us alone!” shouted Leonard running toward the tall man. He kept the plank horizontal, levelled out in front of him so that one end was nestled in the cradle of his shoulder, the other stuck out in front of him like a battering ram. The plank sliced into the tall man’s chest, crunching through the rib cage and locking itself with the man’s body. Leonard shoved with all his strength and the tall man wheeled away, unable to stop as Leonard propelled him back toward the trapdoor.

  Finally, Leonard let go of the plank as the tall man dropped out of sight, down through the attic opening into the corridor of the rest home below. Leonard dropped to his knees, exhausted. His fingers were sore from gripping the plank but he was relieved and grateful that he and Billy were alone again, safe.

  “Billy?”

  Leonard walked over to his unconscious friend, ignoring the moaning sounds that were echoing up into the attic from the growing dead beneath them. He shook Billy once again, and this time, he stirred. Billy coughed and Leonard helped him sit up.

  “Are you all right?

  Billy coughed again and winced as he felt the pain in his broken arm return. “My arm – I think I broke it.” He looked at Leonard who was sweating profusely. “Lenny, what happened? Are you..?”

  Leonard shook his head. “I’m okay, Billy. I’m sorry, I just wanted to see Carol. I didn’t know about...I mean I forgot...one of them got up, but I got rid of him. He’s gone now.”

  Billy saw Leonard smile and forgot all about the argument earlier. Maybe he had underestimated him. If he had fought off one of the dead, then maybe Leonard still had a few marbles left.

  There were worryingly loud noises now from below them. Moaning sounds, horrible slithering sounds, and they seemed to be increasing. He looked over Leonard’s shoulder and saw the shadows dancing on the attic roof, arms and hands, heads, bodies, jostling below. Suddenly, an arm appeared and a hand reached up, finally settling on a beam. The hand grabbed it.

  “Lenny, we have to get out of here, it’s not safe anymore,” said Billy, struggling to get to his feet. “They know we’re here now, so we can’t stay.”

  “But where are we going?” asked Leonard following Billy over to the window and the green rug. “You said this was the safest place to be. You said we just had to be quiet and still and they wouldn’t find us. You said...”

  “I know, Lenny, I’m sorry, but...look behind you.” Billy pointed toward the trapdoor and Leonard saw Norma struggling to pull herself up into the attic. She was half in, half out and another arm was scratching at her back, trying to use her as a springboard into the attic. Norma’s face looked hideous in the half lit attic, her mouth seemingly locked in a ferocious sneer exposing her teeth.

  Billy pulled aside the green rug and opened the window. He kept his broken arm as still as possible, but the pain was sending throbbing waves around his brain and it was difficult to move without the pain intensifying. He looked out at the evening, across the rooftops of the neighbouring houses and wondered what they were going to do now. The town seemed quiet, but he knew that was a false security. The dead were everywhere and they didn’t sleep. Leonard was right. They had nowhere to go, certainly nowhere safe, but they couldn’t stay here. Even if they could get the trapdoor shut again, the dead knew they were here. The two men would be trapped in there forever until their food and water ran out. Then what?

  “Lenny, we’re going outside. We’re going out the window right now, do you understand? The roof outside is flat and we’ll find somewhere else to stay. Don’t worry, just follow me.” Billy was scared, but he didn’t want Lenny to see. He wasn’t sure how he would react.

  Billy went through the window and crouched down low on the roof as Leonard followed him. The green rug flapped down behind him and Billy hoped it might buy them some time before the dead realised where they had gone.

  “Come on, Lenny, this way.” Billy kept low on the roof. The streets were deserted, but he still didn’t like being out in the open, so exposed and vulnerable.

  He led them over to the front of the building and peered over the edge into the car park. Luckily, there was a car parked right beneath them. There was no ladder or stairway so he told Leonard to follow him and then he sat down on the ledge. With a broken arm, he was worried that when he landed he might hit it and pass out again. Leonard sat down beside him.

  “Lenny, we’re going to jump down onto that car, okay? As soon as we land, you need to run as fast as you can. See over there, that alleyway? Run down there. It leads into Victoria Street. It’s empty right now, but I don’t know for how long. You need to find somewhere to hide: a house, a shed, a garage - anything you can.”

  “You’re coming with me, aren’t you, Billy?” said Leonard frowning.

  “Yes but...I’m slower than you, so don’t wait for me, just run, okay Lenny? I’ll find you.”

  Leonard nodded. “I’m sorry, Billy.” He put his arm across his friend’s shoulder gently, careful not to touch the broken arm.

  “It’s all right, Lenny. I’ll be right behind you.” Billy gave Leonard a wink and smiled. “Come on then, old man.”

  Billy dropped off the roof onto the blue car below, and unable to use his arms as balance, slipped straight off it onto the tarmac. Leonard followed him, but landed with ease and slid of the car’s bonnet before softly planting his feet on the cold ground. He heard Billy scream in pain and hesitated.

  “Go on, Lenny, run!” Billy’s vision was swimming and he felt dizzy, but he knew he had to urge Leonard on. Billy got to his feet and saw Leonard running down the alleyway as he had been told to do. Billy started after him and from the corner of his eye, saw the dead. They were streaming out of the rest home. The older ones like Norma and Bob were slow, but some of the nurses and doctors were fast. Billy ran and made it to the alley just in time to see Leonard leaving at the other end. He knew the dead were close behind him and if he tried to run the length of the alley, they would catch him there. He began running down it as fast as he could, but he was already breathless. You’re only as old as you feel, he told himself. A voice in his head told him he felt like he was a hundred years old. He was only halfway down the alley and any moment now the dead would be too. He wouldn’t be able to outrun them or reach the street in time. He would be trapped.

  There was a skip on one shadowy side of the alley. Graffiti covered much of it, hiding the yellow scratched paint, and Billy peered over the edge. It was full of black bags and rubbish, discarded plastic bottles and decayed food. He hauled himself painfully up, standing on a wooden pallet and looked closer. It smelt foul, but that could be to his advantage. If they couldn’t see him, or smell him, maybe they would run past. He could catch up to Leonard when they had gone.

  Billy straddled the rusty lip of the huge skip and sank down into it. His velvet slippers fell off as he lowered himself down the sloping walls and his bare feet touched the black bags. He half expected a rat to shoot out and dart up his leg, but nothing moved. Billy held his breath as the disgusting smell of week’s old rotten food billowed up into the air. Finally, he sank into the skip, trying to ignore the slimy objects underfoot. He could hear footsteps in the alley now. The dead were running, coming for him, getting closer every second.

  He lay down out of sight and drew a few bags across him. Surely, he would
be safe? He tried to not picture what he was lying in. A cool liquid from the bottom of the skip was soaking into his pyjamas and his head was resting on something sticky that felt worryingly like a dead animal of some sort. Billy could practically feel its dead furry tail wrapping itself around his neck, but he knew he was letting his imagination run away with him. He kept quiet and still, forcing himself to take shallow breaths.

  A pair of footsteps suddenly ran past the skip. He could tell from their echo that they hadn’t paused or stopped. The sound carried on to his right, to the other end of the alley. It was working! If Leonard had managed to find somewhere to hide, they would be all right. He just had to wait them out, give it a couple of minutes and they would be gone. The dead weren’t intelligent. They didn’t know that their prey could hide right under their noses. He might smell like the back end of a horse, but he would be alive at least.

  Billy waited as the multitude of footsteps diminished and then began to sit up. It had only been one minute, two at the most, and he heard nothing. There were no shouts or screams, which was good. He hoped that meant Leonard had found somewhere to hide.

  He pulled himself up to the edge of the skip and looked out. The alleyway was dark and empty. Billy felt such relief that he felt like crying. He let his head touch the cold metal of the skip and waited for his emotions to settle down. He would need a cool head out there to find Leonard.

  He wasn’t paying attention to the skip anymore, feeling safe, and one of the black bags he had kicked to a corner moved. Just a little at first, a small movement so slight it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. Suddenly, it began to jostle back and forth. Billy heard rustling behind him and whirled around to see a hand thrust out from beneath the bag. It reached around and Billy kept out of reach of it. He had seen so many things in the last few weeks he was not surprised. He was shocked that anything could be in here though. There wasn’t room for anyone else but him, and he would’ve noticed if he had lain on another body.

  Billy inched his way slowly toward the side where he could clamber out and back onto the pallet to escape. The lone hand waved around in the air and then grabbed hold of a rotten piece of wood. It grabbed it and Billy watched in horror as the hand pulled the rest of its body up. A pale arm appeared, followed by a shoulder and finally a head. The dead woman must have been dead a long time, as she looked more like a skeleton. Only thin strips of skin hung on her face and Billy could clearly see her ribcage. The dead woman hauled herself up and Billy noticed that beneath the ribcage there was nothing but emptiness. With nothing else to hold her up, her skeletal body rested against the side of the skip. The lower half of her body was somewhere else, decapitated long ago and eaten.

  Billy jumped for the pallet resting against the skip’s side, but the woman sprang forward at the same time. He felt fingers grab around his ankle and he fell backward into the rubbish once more. He writhed around in the sludge and the dirt as the dead woman sank her decayed teeth into his leg. Billy tried to kick the dead woman off, but she held on to him and continued tearing her way through his leg. He tried to sit up, but he could not get hold of anything substantial and the pain was overwhelming. His broken arm was useless and he tried to hit the woman’s head with his one free arm. Black bags kept falling on him as he screamed and shouted for help. He was aware of a warm wet liquid spreading down his legs and saw it was his own blood. The dead woman, still gripping him, had gnawed through to his bone.

  He hoped Leonard had found somewhere safe. Billy could take no more and closed his eyes. He wished he could see him one more time. He wished he could have lived longer to help his friend. As the dead woman literally tore the last slices of life from Billy, his heart gave up and he died, wishing he could go back to the attic and stay with Lenny forever.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Heidi screwed her eyes up and then stretched out, extending her arms and legs, and arching her back. Yawning, she glanced at the clock on the wall. Her electric bedside clock had died, but the reliable battery-powered Swiss clock on the wall still ticked without fail, every second of every turgid, tedious day. It would never die. Only 8:25 P.M., Heidi was bored and frustrated. She shook her head as if to shake herself awake and picked up the book she was trying to read. It was some romantic historical novel her mother had recommended, but in truth, she had only read fifty pages and was bored already with its predictable characters and storyline. The light was poor anyway and the effort to read was making her eyes ache.

  She threw the paperback onto her bed and got up, her long legs sliding off the bed with ease. She wore a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and a red vest top. Her wavy blonde hair just reached the top of her smooth shoulders. She looked in the long mirror and frowned at herself. Her hair was greasy and it looked like her face was having a breakout of spots. She looked closer and squeezed a small pimple on her cheek.

  “Nineteen years old and this is all I have to look forward to, squeezing spots? Fucking hell.”

  Heidi ambled about her room, picking things up that were once so important to her: fashionable jeans, make-up, magazines and DVD’s of trendy bands. She put them all back down, bored. It wasn’t fair. Her parents had lived their lives, and had their youth, so why shouldn’t she have hers? She went over to the window and slowly pulled the curtains apart. Her father would kill her if he knew she was doing it, but she couldn’t take much more of being cooped up here like a battery hen.

  As usual, the street was empty, and she wondered if her father might let her go out today. Just for five minutes, just to feel the fresh air, just for something to do. The end of the world was boring as hell. The houses on the opposite side of the road were quiet, empty, and dark. A few broken windows, some front doors open, but no people: living or dead.

  Heidi closed the curtains again and sat down at her desk, pulling a diary out of the drawer. She opened it to today’s date and began writing. Just enough light came through the thick curtains for her to write by. It was one of the few things she had to do now that reminded her she was still alive and not just like one of those zombies out there.

  She wrote about how she longed for something to happen, for someone to do something, for the world to come back, for her friends to come back. She wrote about how she actually missed college now, how she had been wrong to think it was stupid to carry on her education after school. Her career as a veterinarian seemed a long way off from happening right now. She wrote about how she loved her mother and father, but being locked away with them for twenty four hours a day, not knowing when they could leave, was driving her insane. It was probably driving her parents insane too, admittedly. They had no customers now, probably wouldn’t have again, yet her mother kept up the pretence, cleaning and tidying the bedrooms every day, ‘just in case.’

  It had been over three weeks since anyone had stayed at the small bed and breakfast her parents, Glenda and Daniel Cooper, ran in the equally small village of Longrock. They had been three very long weeks. The first week hadn’t been boring, although it had been scary. The infection had broken out and spread across the country quickly. Her mother had wanted to go back to Austria, but her father had refused, and said they would be better off waiting, it wouldn’t get any worse, it would be contained, and the British government would sort it out, just as they always did. Well, they had watched the news go off the air, the electricity die, and finally the water. They had watched the streets fill up with dead people, attacking and eating the living who in turn rose up to repeat the process. Finally, they had barricaded themselves in. Her father had stocked up on as much food and water as he could and so they waited.

  Heidi continued scribbling, lost in her thoughts until she heard a small knocking on her bedroom door.

  “Heidi?”

  “Hi, Mum,” she said, watching her mother come in with a candle in each hand. Glenda placed one candle carefully beside Heidi’s bed and then walked over to her daughter, giving her a kiss on the head. Her mother looked tired, v
ery tired. She was nearing retirement age and Heidi had suggested they retire last year, but her parents couldn’t bear to part with the home and business they had built up over the last thirty years. Now, with little else to do, Glenda spent her days cleaning and trying to make edible meals from tins, boxes and packets of dried food. She wore the same thing every day: a long dark grey skirt, a practical black t-shirt and she tied her dirty blonde hair up in a ponytail.

  “No bookings today then?” said Heidi, unable to resist a dig.

  “No, Heidi, not today.” Glenda looked inquisitively over Heidi’s shoulder at the diary and her daughter snapped it shut.

  “Your father wants to see you, downstairs. Do you mind?” Glenda spoke softly as if she might wake the whole town up if she spoke any louder. “Only for a minute, then you can do what you like. Well, you know what I mean. You can come back up here. The candle will last an hour or so if you want to read.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Heidi took her mother’s hand and followed her. As they walked through the house, Heidi looked into each guest room at the immaculately made beds, each one made up with crisply folded sheets and not a speck of dust to be seen.

  They went downstairs in the gloom, the house only lit by candlelight, and Heidi followed her mother into the kitchen. The lounge was not safe as it had huge bay windows that looked out onto the road. They had nothing to board the windows up with and if anyone, or anything, saw them inside...Heidi shivered, not wanting to dwell on her thoughts.

  In the kitchen, she found her father sitting at the table, reading a cricket magazine that he must have read twenty times already. There was a candle in the middle of the table and two empty glasses. The window was covered by a sheet and the door to the driveway obscured by towels which had been tacked up crudely, her father’s attempt at learning DIY having failed long ago. He looked up expectantly, his eyes peering over the rim of his reading glasses as they entered.