I decided to risk breaking my cover from the shadows and crept forward into the semi light. Smith didn’t see me so I aimed the Glock at the Ford’s half open side window. I fired and watched the glass shatter around six feet to Smith’s left. He flinched and swung the semi automatic rifle around to aim at my position. Smith saw me and grimaced. I returned a half smile and a small shrug in a ‘what else could I have done?’ manner.
Smith waved his motley crew forward and they headed towards me. Tony pointed to the body in the back of the pickup truck and sounded some kind of protest. The guy was dead. Nothing could be done for him.
I retreated back into the shadows and Smith soon jogged over and joined me, followed by the two Dutchmen and the remaining two members of the band. I hit a reluctant high five with Dan and then Freek, receiving a nod from Tony and a slap on the shoulder from Lowie. We huddled beside the wall, watching the skirmish in front of us.
“The plan went well then?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” Smith grunted. “Where the hell did you get to anyhow?”
I hesitated before muttering a response. “I saved your ass didn’t I?”
“That’s a subject for a long debate some other time,” Smith snorted. “Right now, we need to make certain that none of those militia bastards escapes from the castle.”
“Right now, we need to get the fuck out of here,” Tony spat. “Otherwise, we’re all going to end up like poor old Swanny over there.” He nodded to the back of the Ford.
Smith sighed. “I share your concerns, Tony but we have to ensure that nobody inside this stronghold survives. Sounds shitty, I know but I have to get my people off that ship. These guys aren’t going to let me do that.”
“There’s fucking zombies everywhere, Smudger,” Tony whined. “Looks to me like they are doing the job for us.”
“I agree,” Smith said coldly. “But we have got to be sure that no motherfucker in a green uniform gets out of here alive.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The battle between the militia men and the undead raged on while we hid amongst the shadows of the castle wall. I had the feeling that sooner or later either gunman or zombie was going to stumble across our hiding place.
“We need to get hold of some more weapons, Smith,” Freek said. “Those bastards took all our guns off us, including the spare ones from the back of the truck.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Smith rumbled.
“So, what happened to the mega all-out assault?” I asked.
“It failed badly, dude,” Dan moaned.
“They pinned us down, shot out the tires in the truck and I couldn’t move,” Lowie explained.
I glanced over at the Ford and saw the lower half of the body was riddled with bullet holes and the tires were shredded. Smith’s plan had backfired inadequately but I didn’t say as much. Shaun was dead and they were all probably lucky to still be breathing. The militia guys had obviously wanted to capture them alive, probably with the intent to inflict some torture at a later stage.
“Okay, guys, will you knock it off?” Smith spat. “I feel bad enough as it is, without you guys keep yakking about it.”
“All right, Smith,” I sighed, glancing up at the gantries above. “We hear you but we sure as shit can’t stay here wallowing in self pity, while we watch the militia guys battling zombies. Somebody’s going to run into us anytime soon and they are not going to be happy to see us. What’s the next phase of the plan?”
“Well, first of all, like Freek says, we need to get hold of some more weapons and ammo,” Smith said. “Keep your eyes out for any fallen militia. We can rob them of their firearms as long as their bodies aren’t too close to a whole bunch of zombies.”
“I think we should stay in the shadows and make our way up to the higher level,” I said, pointing to the walkways around the sides of the outer walls. “If we stay on ground level, those guys up there can easily pick us off. We’d be better off staying hidden and attacking in short bursts.”
“Well, listen to General Custer here,” Smith teased. “Okay, we’ll do it your way, kid. But don’t blame me if it all goes south.”
“Nobody is blaming you for what happened earlier, Smith,” I sighed. “We all know you tried your best.”
“Yeah, right,” Smith huffed. “Come on then, you guys. Let’s get rambling before some bright spark sees us skulking around down here.”
Smith half turned and moved in a crouched stance. We followed his lead, keeping close to the stone wall and in the confines of the shadows. The battle between the living militia and the undead islanders continued to rage on. The gunmen would shoot down a whole bunch of walking corpses, only for more to take their place and advance further into the castle, taking out the militia men a few at a time.
Smith stopped at the foot of a stone staircase leading to the upper level. We crowded behind him, glancing in all directions. The guys manning the searchlights on the upper walkways swiveled the bright beams at the marauding zombie horde, oblivious to our small party below them.
“Okay, let’s go up,” Smith said, pointing to the stone steps and then to the sky.
We nodded in unison. Lowie cautiously trod up the staircase, keeping his eyes on the movement from the upper level. We followed in a tightly knit line with our backs to the stone wall. A thin metal handrail, which obviously wasn’t part of the castle’s original features ran the length of the outer edge of the staircase and disappeared into the darkness above us.
A scuffle of boots above us caused Lowie, Smith and I to raise our firearms. A militia guy hurried down the steps and almost clattered into Lowie, only stopping a few inches away from him. The green clad guy blurted something in Spanish and Lowie smacked him on the jaw with the butt of his rifle. The militia guy wailed as he reeled sideways and toppled over the metal handrail. He thudded onto the ground a few feet below us and shook his head, trying to clear any grogginess from the rifle blow.
Two skinny zombies lurched from the shadows near the outer wall and pounced on the militia guy about to rise to his feet. The man screamed as the two ghouls tore into his neck and face with their teeth.
“Jesus, where did they come from?” Dan whispered.
“They’re bloody everywhere, mate,” Tony whined. “They’re crawling out of the fucking woodwork.”
“Come on, let’s hurry. We don’t have much time,” Smith said.
Lowie nodded and continued upward with the rest of us following. We reached the top of the staircase and crouched on the walkway. A similar metal handrail surrounded the inner side of the gantry and militia guys scurried to and fro, barking orders and firing down at the undead crowd below. The scene beneath us was one of total carnage. Stray bullets rattled against the castle walls all around us as the undead surged on the gunmen, taking them down in packs. A round hit one of the search lights and sent a spray of glass showering down onto the roof of one of the armored trucks below.
“Do we take out the rest of those damn lights?” Lowie asked.
Smith shook his head. “Leave them for now. We need some kind of illumination inside this place or we could run blind into an ambush.”
“Smudger, not being funny, mate but how the fuck are we going to get out of here?” Tony yelled above the noise.
Smith glanced around at the chaos all around us. “Let me worry about that. Right now we just have to stay out of sight and keep a low profile. Anybody comes close, we pop them in the head, no matter who they are. Got it?”
“I haven’t even got a fucking shooter, Smudger,” Tony cried.
“We’ll find you one,” Smith growled.
I gazed around and felt Tony had a point. The place was being rapidly overrun and we were cowering in the shadows like plastic ducks in a fairground shooting gallery. A couple of militia men ran past us, wailing and abandoning their posts while heading for the steps behind us. Lowie raised his rifle but Smith put his hand across the sights.
“Let them go down there,” Smith said. �
�They have no weapons on them and won’t make it out of here alive.”
We watched the two militia guys hurtle down the steps and attempt to run through the massing zombie crowd inside the grounds. The two men were soon swamped by a sea of clawing arms and gnashing teeth. We heard the men scream as they disappeared from view beneath the undead scrum.
I heard the echoing crack of a high powered rifle fire from somewhere across the walkway. I glanced across the upper level and saw the silhouette of a thin female shape standing in a firing stance beside one of the spot lights. The woman held a long rifle tightly into her right shoulder. She moved forward into the light slightly and I gasped. For one split second I thought I was looking right at somebody who I’d lost. For one moment I thought I was staring at Estella Cordoba.
Chapter Forty-Six
The woman brandishing the rifle looked down the scoped sight and fired again. One single shot. The discharged round caused a zombie’s head to explode below her on ground level. I studied the female shooter intently from the other side of the castle wall. I knew it wasn’t Cordoba, it couldn’t possibly be. I’d seen the life ebb away from her due to a gunshot wound back in Scotland.
I shook thoughts of Cordoba out of my mind and tried to concentrate on the job at hand.
The woman was slim but toned and wore a white vest and dark green camo pants. Her dark hair was tied back in a pony-tail beneath a green military style cap. I elbowed Smith beside me and nodded across the gantry to the woman’s position. He turned to me and followed my line of sight.
“That’s the goddamn sniper,” he growled. “We have to take her out.”
A couple of zombies began to stumble up the stone steps below us. Lowie twisted and fired his rifle at them, causing both emaciated bodies to tumble back down the steps.
“We can’t stay here,” Lowie yelled.
“Let’s move on around the gantry,” Smith barked. “Zap any militia guys who stand in our way. We have to take out that sniper bitch, Wilde Man. She is our priority, got me?”
I nodded.
Smith rose up but remained in his huddled stance. He moved further along the walkway and we followed in a line. A bearded militia guy ran from his position at the nearest spotlight, heading for the staircase. Smith shoulder barged into the guy’s gut, knocking him off balance. The bearded man yelled as he stumbled sideways. Smith moved on him quickly and shoved him over the top of the guardrail, down into the seething mass of undead below.
We continued on and Smith fired his rifle at the two remaining militia guys manning the closest spotlight. Both guys screamed, one tumbled backwards over the side of the castle wall and the other fell sideways out of sight behind the bright circular light.
“Get any weapons you can find,” Smith yelled at Tony, Dan and Freek.
Freek scurried beyond the searchlight and quickly emerged brandishing a chrome handgun he’d retrieved from the dead militia man. Smith, the two Dutchmen and I were now at least carrying some sort of firearms. Only Tony and Dan were unarmed and I wondered if that wasn’t totally a bad thing.
We moved across the gantry and took a left turn at the corner of the castle walls. I heard the sea waves breaking on the rocks somewhere in the blackness below the rear wall. I glanced into the night beyond the castle thinking about the Russian warship still marooned somewhere out there.
Lowie fired at two more militia guys who spotted us and raised their weapons. The two guys slumped down on the walkway and one rolled beneath the handrail, falling into the carnage below. Two more guys who directed a searchlight in the center of the walkway abandoned their positions. They babbled in Spanish and saw us approaching through the shadows. Smith fired once, shooting the first guy through the head and Lowie opened up with a burst of fire on the second man.
We moved quickly across the gantry, gaining ground on the remaining crew manning the last searchlight in the far corner of the walkway. The woman fired her sniper rifle once more before turning in our direction. She must have sensed our movement in her peripheral vision.
Time seemed to almost slow down. The long barrel of the sniper rifle swung around, pointing at us as we approached. The rifle muzzle briefly flashed and I heard a high pitched zipping sound. Freek reeled backwards with a large, bloody gunshot wound in the center of his chest. Lowie let fly with a burst of semi automatic fire but his weapon ran empty.
The sniper woman almost seemed to be dodging the bullets as Smith and I opened fire. She gripped the rifle one handed and vaulted the guardrail in front of the walkway. Two militia guys behind the searchlight in the corner absorbed most of our gunfire and slid down the wall in a bloody mess. The woman landed on top of one of the armored trucks in the courtyard below. I gazed down and she glanced up. For a brief second our eyes met. The reflection of the searchlights burned brightly in her dark eyes. I didn’t know why I didn’t shoot at her but we seemed to share an intimate moment amongst all the chaos going on around us. Then she was gone, vanishing somewhere into the shadows.
Lowie, Tony and Smith crouched over Freek’s prone body. Dan held his hands on top of his head looking pale and totally freaked out. Freek lay on his back, breathing with a kind of sickening sucking noise. His torso was covered in flowing crimson and he was starting to cough out blood in long clots. Smith, Lowie and Tony tried unsuccessfully to stem the flow of blood with their hands.
Smith swiveled his head around at me. “Get the sniper, Wilde Man. Don’t let her get away.”
I nodded and turned back to the edge of the walkway. The militia men retreated backwards under the tide of the undead horde. They couldn’t reload their weapons quick enough to keep mowing down the relentless zombie onslaught. I had no clue where the sniper woman had gone. Had she ran into the crowd and been devoured by the undead mob? Somehow, I doubted it. She seemed too savvy to panic and lose her head.
What did I do now? I glanced back at Smith. He was busy trying to save Freek’s life, which didn’t look remotely possible to be honest. They were covered in Freek’s blood; Lowie was in tears as he pressed his hands over the wound. Smith’s face was a mask of tension and concentration. Tony was effing and blinding and Dan looked totally shell shocked.
I knew I had to accomplish this task on my own.
I reloaded my Glock with a fresh magazine, glanced down below and then vaulted over the handrail.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The armored truck roof wasn’t as soft as it looked. My feet hit the canopy and I felt the impact jolt through my damaged ankle, causing a ripple of pain to pulse right up my left leg. I sincerely hoped I hadn’t broken or sprained the joint as I rolled around on my back.
Grimacing, I waited for the pain to recede. Thankfully, it did after a few seconds. Now I could concentrate on the impending task.
I rolled onto my front, studying the scene beyond the armored truck. I tried to filter out the sound of gunfire, the smoke and the yells and screams of the battling militia men and the undead. I tried to focus on the person I was looking for. The woman wasn’t in plain view. Where the hell had she gone?
I glanced at the row of low buildings, around twenty feet to my right. Yellow light flickered through the small windows, high in the walls. A wooden doorway stood in a dark recess in the center of the block. She must have gone through that doorway. That was the only explanation for her sudden disappearance.
Shadows moved back and forward in the yellow light behind the building’s windows. Somebody was inside, maybe more than one person. I had no choice but to go in there and try and flush them out. I studied the buildings for more entry or exit points. There weren’t any. It was one door in, one door out.
I aimed my handgun at the door and considered waiting it out. Would whoever was inside come bursting out of the door in an escape attempt? Probably not. They’d try and weather the storm inside the buildings, which led me to believe the door was more than likely locked and bolted on the inside. Another problem.
I lay on top of the truck and waited, unsure
of what to do. Then an unexpected opportunity presented itself.
A petrified militia guy fled from the ranks, who were trying to shoot down the advancing undead crowd. He shouldered his rifle and ran to the building’s doorway. Wide eyed and terrified, he battered on the wooden door with his fist. I silently slipped down off the roof of the truck, moving between the shadows of the back wall and the vehicle. The guy continued banging on the door, his face sweaty and full of anxiety. He’d obviously not faced a mass invasion of undead before and had clearly decided to flee from the front line.
I edged closer through the shadows, keeping my Glock held up at the ready. The guy kept glancing nervously back at the approaching zombie horde, unaware of me creeping closer behind him to his right. I got within six feet of him when the door barged open. I lowered my handgun, aiming at the guy’s head and rushed closer. The militia guy cried out in shock and surprise when I jammed the gun barrel against the back of his head. The guy inside the door looked on with an equally shocked expression when he saw me hunched behind the man standing in the entranceway.
“Move inside, now,” I growled in the guy’s ear, pulling the semi automatic rifle from his shoulder. I wasn’t sure if he understood what I said so I gave him a shove in the back and followed him closely through the doorway.
I could smell the guy’s sweat and sense his fear as we bustled thorough the entrance. I nudged the door shut behind me with my foot. The second guy raised his hands and backed off. His dark eyes were wide in fear and as he stumbled backwards into a bare concrete corridor that smelled strongly of human body odor. He had a crop of bushy hair sprouting around his head and several days’ dark stubble on his unshaven chin. I noticed he wore a silver crucifix around his neck that hung above his sweaty gray vest.
I shook my head and pointed at the cross. “God won’t save you, friend,” I said, slightly callously. I’d been through too much shit to believe in the divine assistance from the almighty.
The Left Series (Book 6): Left On An Island Page 20
