Devouring The Dead (Book 2): Nemesis

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Devouring The Dead (Book 2): Nemesis Page 17

by Watts, Russ


  When they did come across it, it was easy to spot as the ambulance wasn’t hidden particularly well. There was a seafront café and the ambulance was parked in the vacant lot next door, right out in the open. Harry and Jackson waited behind the café whilst Tom approached it. It was unguarded. Tom tried the doors, but they were locked. He peered inside, but nobody was around. He signalled for Harry and Jackson to come over.

  “What do you think, Harry?”

  Harry was looking across to the Mount. It was silhouetted against an orangey-blue sky streaked with flat clouds. The tide was in as the causeway between it and the mainland was covered in water. The Mount itself looked deserted. There was no sign of movement either on the hillside or the castle atop it. He still couldn’t be sure that a dozen eyes weren’t watching them now and he felt nervous.

  As Harry looked at the Mount, he felt a shiver run down his spine. It was not the castle in particular that perturbed him, but the Mount itself. It was as if the island was looking at him, the dark watchtower of the castle standing tall and dark against a colourful sky, waiting for them to come. Harry felt that with every step closer to the Mount, they were closer to death. The plague of zombies receded from his mind and he almost felt like bowing down and weeping before the Mount’s miserable majesty. He hadn’t felt so dejected since he lost his son.

  “I think we need a change of plan,” Harry said leaning against the ambulance. “We all go in there and we don’t know what will happen. We don’t know what’s in there or how many of them there are. We also need to find how to get over there. The tide’s up so we need to find this tunnel.”

  “It can’t be far,” said Jackson wandering over to the cliff edge. “Look, there are some steps over here leading down to the shore. It makes sense they’d leave the ambulance close by. They wouldn’t risk parking it miles away from the tunnel entrance and having to go through the town to get it. They probably reasoned that nobody was going to come along and steal it either.”

  Tom joined Jackson and looked at the steps. “Let’s check it out.”

  “Okay, okay, but hang on.” Harry joined them at the top the steps. “Say the tunnel entrance is down there, then what? We shoot whoever comes out? Force them to take us over to the Mount at gunpoint?”

  “Works for me,” said Jackson.

  “And what if they refuse? What if they’re being watched? What if someone’s watching us right now? What if they come out armed to the teeth and we all get gunned down? We can’t do this without a solid plan. If we fuck this up, then our friends are dead.”

  “What do you have in mind, Harry?” asked Tom curiously.

  “How do we get around the zombies when we need to? Other than blowing their brains out, we create a diversion. That’s exactly what we need here. As soon as they come out of that tunnel, they’re going to lock it up again. One of us needs to get their attention so the others can slip in unnoticed. Our strongest weapon is the element of surprise.”

  “So who does the shooting and who does the sneaking?” queried Jackson.

  Tom looked over at the Mount. It was a foreboding place. The castle looked impregnable, the rocky ground and hill impassable. A rescue mission was going to be difficult. But staying put was equally fraught with danger.

  “Harry, you and Jackson should go. Let’s get down to the beach and find the tunnel. You two find somewhere to hide. I’ll wait up on these steps and when they come out, I’ll start shooting. That should give you the time you need to get in the tunnel.”

  “What will you do, Tom?”

  “I’ll lead them away from you. See if I can lead them a merry dance around here and away from you, buy you some time.”

  “Just take care,” said Jackson. “Don’t forget there are still zombies around here and I saw one of them kill one of their own in cold blood. They’re not going to hesitate to execute you if they catch up with you.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure they don’t catch me,” said Tom resolutely. “I’ll give you ‘til nightfall. If you’re not back up here by the ambulance in a couple of hours’ time I’ll know something’s gone wrong. I’ll head back to Longrock and get help. I’m not leaving you out there alone. Right, come on, let’s do this.”

  Tom stood halfway up the steps while Harry and a wheezing Jackson carried on down to the beach below. They found exactly what they wanted at the bottom. There was a small hut on the beach, nestled against the cliffs, its doors opening outward onto the golden sand. In the doors were two small cracked windows and Harry peered through them. Inside the hut were more doors that seemingly led straight to the rock face. Harry noticed on the hut floor two lines where something had been dragged from whatever lay behind those doors. He looked around for somewhere to hide. The beach was empty and stretched out for miles, curling around the bay until it reached Penzance in the faint distance. Harry motioned for Jackson to join him and they hid behind a large rock, just ten feet away from the hut. Then they waited.

  Tom scoured the horizon for any sign of the navy. He looked for boats, small or large, masts, sails, tugs, but there was nothing. To the west, he could make out the faint skyline of Penzance. Where are you, he thought. Are you really coming? Could there really be a ship out there with dozens, maybe hundreds of people on? Or was he wasting his time, leading himself and everyone else into a dead end? He looked across at the Mount. Whoever was tucked away on that small island had taken up a good position. It was naturally fortified and if they had provisions they could last months, years possibly. The zombies would struggle to find that place. If the worst happened, Tom fully intended to make sure that with his last breath, he would lead every zombie in the vicinity to that castle.

  They had waited no more than twenty minutes when Harry heard noises coming from inside the hut. There was a screeching, scraping sound as the inner doors were opened. Bangs and chains rattled until finally the outer doors swung open. Jackson pressed himself against the cold rocks, willing himself not to cough. His lungs burned and his blood ran cold. He could feel the infection spreading throughout his body and knew he didn’t have long left. He was not beaten yet, and there was no way he was going to let this thing stop him from helping Harry onto the island.

  Harry watched as two men stepped outside. One was a short stout man, the other tall and well built. Neither spoke. The small one began closing the hut doors whilst the tall one began ascending the steps up the rock face.

  “Ready?” whispered Harry.

  Jackson just nodded in reply. He dare not open his mouth in case he gave away their position.

  Suddenly a burst of gunfire interrupted the peace and Harry saw the beach ripped up, sand flying into the air as bullets whistled into it. The smaller man ran for the cover of the rocks, waiting at the bottom of the steps for the gunfire to stop. Harry watched as the tall man fell over the side of a railing and plummeted down onto the beach. He landed with a thud on the sand. He had been hit by a bullet and was screaming in pain. He had fallen about fifteen feet and had probably broken several bones too.

  “Honok, help me, for fuck’s sake! Honok!” the tall man screamed.

  “Shut up, Shane,” came the reply.

  Harry took a step away from the hiding place and saw the stout man, Honok, slowly ascending the steps.

  “Hey, you up there, what’s your problem? We’re unarmed! Let’s talk, eh?” Honok advanced slowly up the stairs toward Tom holding the carving knife low by his side.

  “How about I just take this vehicle of yours?” shouted Tom.

  Harry heard Tom mutter an expletive and then he dropped the gun. Tom said something about being out of ammo, but Harry knew he had plenty on him. It was a ruse. Tom was drawing the small man out. Harry took a small step onto the beach and looked up.

  Tom was backing up the steps and Honok had given up hiding.

  “You’ve made a big mistake, my friend,” said Honok climbing the steps. “You’d better run ‘cause when I catch up with you, I’m gonna cut you up and feed you to the z
ombies piece by piece.”

  Harry watched as Tom climbed the steps with Honok following. The plan was working. When Tom and Honok had disappeared over the crest of the rock face, Harry and Jackson went to the hut doors. Honok had not had time to lock them and the doors opened freely.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” said Shane. The pain had numbed him and he was lying on his side, exactly where he had landed. His blood was soaking into the salty sand right in front of his eyes.

  “What are we doing? We’re getting our friends back. The ones you kidnapped. I don’t know who you people are, but…” Jackson stopped and coughed. The pain in his chest got worse and he covered his mouth as he doubled over, the violent coughing shaking his body. When he stopped, he saw droplets of blood on his hands. His leg was burning as the infection spread higher.

  Harry walked over to Shane. “How many of you are there over there?”

  “You’re going over to the Mount?” Shane winced as he tried to move. He recomposed himself, knowing it was futile. He was going to die out here on this beach. “You’ve got no chance. Lazarus will kill you. There are thirty of us and we will defend ourselves to the death.”

  Harry thought for a moment. This man was not lying and sneaking past thirty armed men to find the others was sounding suicidal. An idea formed in his head.

  “Jackson, help me carry him, will you? He’s coming with us.” Harry grabbed Shane’s arms.

  “You think this Lazarus will bargain for this piece of shit? Come off it, Harry, he’s nearly dead. Don’t waste your energy,” said Jackson as he tried to calm himself down. His head was swimming and spots darted in front of his eyes.

  Harry began dragging Shane toward the hut doors. “I’m not bargaining with anyone. I’ve met enough scum in my life to know when the time for reasoning is over. No, help me pick him up and I’ll explain on the way over there. Let’s get into that tunnel before anyone else comes along.”

  Jackson trusted Harry and so he picked up Shane’s legs. They ignored his cries of pain, dragging him across the sand to the hut. Once inside, they saw the cart and put Shane inside. Harry and Jackson began the descent into the tunnel, pushing the cart with them, as Shane fell into unconsciousness.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Harry,” said Jackson clutching his sides. The infection had spread rapidly from his leg to his chest. It wouldn’t be long before it took the rest of him too.

  * * * *

  Laurent put his hands over his ears. He tried to drown out the whoops and hollering, but it was impossible. He tried to block out the crying, the sobbing, the screaming, the tormented wailing, but it was hopeless. He pushed himself further into the corner of his cell and screwed his eyes shut. He had tried to stop them. He had ordered them to stop, asked them, pleaded with them, and begged. He offered his life if they left her alone, but his desperate pleas fell on deaf ears.

  At first, they had forced him to watch. One of them, an Australian, had stood over Laurent with a blade to his throat, forcing him to watch Rosa being raped. She was in the cell next to Laurent and had cried throughout the whole ordeal. When the second man came in, Laurent had been made to watch again. The second man was their jailer; an obese man whom Laurent had learned was called Norm. He had not taken long with Rosa, but it had been horrendous to watch. After he had finished, another six men came down into the cells. Laurent had tried to talk to them, but the Australian told him to shut up and had beaten him. Laurent had crawled away, bloodied and bruised, unable to block out the sounds of the men forcing themselves upon Rosa.

  Laurent took his hands down as the sounds diminished. He heard doors slamming and keys clanking together. There was a faint whimpering and he turned around to face Rosa’s cell. A thin reedy man was walking out, zipping up his trousers, whilst Norm locked the door after him. Norm walked away whistling and went up the steps, leaving the prisoners securely locked away.

  Laurent crawled over the stone floor. He had two broken ribs from the kicking Ed had given him and a variety of bruises forming on his face. Despite the pain he felt, he wanted to get closer to Rosa. He knew the pain he felt was nothing to what Rosa was going through. She had barely left her teenage years behind and shouldn’t be subjected to this. Laurent had not contemplated murder before, but he would gladly kill everyone on this island if he got the chance.

  “Rosa,” he whispered, “Rosa?”

  She lay on the floor of her cell, breathing, but not moving. The mattress was propped up against the wall and she lay on her front with her face turned away from him. He wasn’t sure if she was still conscious.

  “You have to be strong, Rosa. I tried to stop them but I couldn’t, I...I know you miss Jess, but they’ll come for us. Tom, Harry, they’ll come.”

  Rosa didn’t answer. Laurent wondered if she had heard him, then she slowly turned over. When he saw her face, he gasped in horror. They had not only sexually abused her, but viciously beaten her too. Laurent didn’t know precisely how many men had visited her cell. Her eyes were swollen, her lips were cut and she had deep lacerations across her cheeks. There was bruising on her neck too where they had held her. Laurent could see outlines of large hands, pudgy fingers that had left dark purple marks on her pale skin.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was too weak. Her cracked lips moved, but only blood and semen spilled out.

  Laurent felt tears welling up and forced them down. He had to be strong for her. “Rosa, I’m so sorry. I promise we’ll get out of this. I promise you.”

  He lay there on the stone floor watching Rosa. She drifted into unconsciousness and Laurent was pleased. He hoped she would not feel her pain there. He hoped she would dream about Jess, about something good. There had to be something good left in this world. Laurent refused to accept this was it, that this was how they would die. He couldn’t accept that he had made it so far, past hordes of zombies and deadly creatures, only to die at the hands of a psycho.

  After Lazarus killed Lenny, Laurent had been taken down to the cell where Walker had questioned him. He wanted to know where they had come from, where they were hiding, what weapons they had, how many of them there were. The questions did not stop. Laurent refused to answer honestly. He had told Walker it had been just them, just himself, Lenny, Rosa and Glenda. They both knew he was lying. Honok told Walker how they had found them, how Laurent had run out of the petrol station shouting about someone called Tom. Walker slapped him around a bit, but nothing he couldn’t take. Walker told him he would be back later, when Laurent had time to think about things. Walker told him that if he didn’t answer him honestly next time, that whatever happened to Rosa in the next two hours was nothing compared to what he could expect. That’s when Walker left and the men had come for Rosa.

  He didn’t know where Glenda was. The cell on the other side of Rosa was empty. She had been there initially, but had been taken away once Rosa had been brought down. He asked, but had been told it was none of his business. He hoped that wherever she was, she was in a better state than Rosa.

  * * * *

  Harry banged on the door three times. The sound carried down the tunnel, reverberating off the damp stone walls, echoing loudly around them.

  “This better work,” muttered Jackson.

  They stood there for three minutes and then Harry banged again. As he did so, the doors swung open and two men stood there facing him. Harry saw the puzzled look on their faces as two strangers stood before them, with an unconscious Shane in the cart.

  “Oh, thank God, thank God,” said Harry as he pushed the cart inside. “We weren’t sure if it was true or not. Thank God you’re here.” Harry and Jackson drew the cart to a stop and the doors shut behind them. Looking around the room, Harry noticed it was cool and dark, full of boxes and weapons. There was a set of stairs leading up in the corner.

  “Hold it, mate, who are you? What’s happened to Shane here?” asked Ed. He held a rusty axe in his hands and was peering in at Shane who was all but dead.


  “I’m Harry, this is Jackson. Your men were attacked. Some nutter with a gun went crazy out there. We’ve been on the road and heard the gunfire. Shane helped us, but he got hit. I’m not sure how badly, but he looks in pretty poor shape...the other one, the small fella, he got away and went after the gunman. Shane told us to bring him down here. He said you could help.”

  Jackson said nothing. He felt dizzy. The room was spinning but he couldn’t collapse now or it would give away the fact he was infected. If this plan didn’t work, it would be more than him winding up dead.

  Ed looked from Harry to Shane. The other man stepped in front of Ed.

  “I’m Walker. Put your weapons down now.” He spoke slowly and clearly. It was unlikely Honok would’ve let two strangers down here, but Shane? Possibly. He watched as Harry and Jackson put their weapons down on the floor. They had been carrying guns and ammo. Lazarus would be pleased. “What happened to Honok? The other man – you said he went after the gunman?”

  “Yeah,” said Harry. “We tried to help your man Shane here, but…” Harry hoped that Shane didn’t regain consciousness or they would be exposed and killed in seconds. He had seen enough to know that it was unlikely Shane would recover.

  Walker looked at the two men. They appeared to be okay, but they had not had uninvited guests at the Mount before. The meeting was due soon and he couldn’t let them wander the Mount unaccompanied. He decided it best to let Lazarus decide what to do with them. “Ed, pick up the guns.”

  As Ed scooped up the two guns from the floor, Jackson coughed, unable to contain it anymore. Ed handed one of the cold guns to Walker who pointed it at Harry.

 

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