Killing the Dead (Book 12): Fear the Reaper

by Murray, Richard

  “We’ll start at the southern end. Separate into smaller groups and clear each building before continuing as we move towards the one that we suspect houses the Reaper. Agreed?”

  “Whatever you say,” Ryan said with a smile and I stifled a groan.

  There was some discussion about the size of the groups and when it was clear that Ryan had way more people and wasn’t going to budge, the Admiral agreed. Groups of ten. Eight of Ryan’s people and two of ours.

  Captain Jennings took one group, the Admiral another and I was thankful that I was seconded to the Admirals group, rather than the Captains. Without another word, we set off.

  As we moved along that main road, groups began to split off. Following whatever order’s Ryan had given them. I caught sight of one group try and door and when it swung open, head inside. They moved silently and I had the sense of casual efficiency as I watched them.

  “No guns,” the Admiral ordered as we approached a set of gates.

  Made of heavy, reinforced wood and set into a ten-foot high wall of red stone, topped with barbed wire, it seemed to be the only access point for us into the compound. Considering the defence contracts, the company had held, I had no doubt that they wouldn’t have been the only security back when the world was normal. For now, though, it was enough and when two acolytes pushed on the gates, they didn’t budge.

  “Looks like we’re going over,” Ryan said with a grin as he leapt up, hands closing on the top of the gate.

  He gave a grunt of pain as he pulled himself up, quickly stifled and I winced as I recalled the wounds his body bore. He needed time to heal and not be climbing over bloody walls!

  “Clear,” he said and reached up, grabbing hold of the barbed wire in his gloved hand.

  One of his acolytes followed him up and as he held apart the wire, the black-garbed figure slipped through. Ryan grinned and dropped back down, moments later the gate swung inwards, pulled by the acolyte who’d just unlocked it.

  “Spread out,” the Admiral said as we moved through the gate.

  Cars, wagons with huge containers and smaller, transit vans filled the yard. Our people moved away in their groups of ten, knives and poignards in hand as they moved cautiously, watchful for any enemy.

  My squad stayed close behind me, nervousness radiating from them while Ryan and his group of acolytes were all calm.

  We passed the first building as a group of acolytes opened the door and went inside. I shuddered at the darkness within, that almost impenetrable black that could be hiding anything and I cursed the builders who decided factories didn’t need windows.

  “Here,” Ryan said as we approached a building that dwarfed all the others.

  “Torches…” the Admiral began but Ryan cut him off with a grin.

  “If you shine a light in there, all you will do is bring them straight to you.”

  “Then how are we supposed to fight them?”

  “You’re not,” he said. “Stay out here and guard the door. If anything comes out that isn’t us, kill it.”

  With a final glance to me, he pulled open the door and ran inside. I quickly knelt down and whispered into Jinx’s ear.

  “Go, protect him!”

  She needed no urging and followed him into the building.

  Chapter 29 – Ryan

  The darkness engulfed me. Like a mother, calling me home, it was comforting and familiar. It held no terrors for me or my followers. We’d all spent days down in the tunnels, moving silently, listening for sounds of the undead. It was nothing new to us.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Once inside, it was soon apparent that it wasn’t entirely black. Some, dim light, entered from narrow skylights high up in the ceiling. Illuminating the hulking machinery and casting sinister-seeming shadows that blended with the surrounding darkness.

  “Go,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper and my followers spread out.

  Somewhere in the distance, I caught the sound of the rapid pop-pop-pop of guns being discharged. That suited me fine as it would distract any zombie inside.

  I moved slowly, each step placed cautiously before taking another, my left arm extended before me and swinging from right to left. Smooth metal to my left, open space to my right. I took another step, swinging my arm.

  Smooth metal to my left, open space to my right. Another step, another swing. Cold metal to my left, something to my right! A hiss sounded and without pause, I swung my right hand, the blade sinking into flesh as I used my left hand to gauge the rough location of its head. My second stab killed it.

  Another step. Open space to my left, open space to my right. I went left. And so it went, slow steps, the only noise the soft scuff of boots on the concrete floor. An occasional low rumble would come, soon cut off as one of my followers found a zombie and killed it.

  Somewhere a scream of pain, coming from outside, then another. I paused, wondering if I should go out. If Lily was in danger…

  But no, it was further away than she was. I was sure of it.

  I took another step and swung my arm, hitting something halfway through the arc. I had my knife raised before I registered the feel of leather. My hand moved up the arm to touch a cloth hood and I tapped them on the right shoulder.

  A brief touch on my arm was all the response I needed as my acolyte headed off into the darkness to the right while I continued on to the left.

  Time seemed to stretch, making the measuring of it meaningless in the darkness of the building. It was the same down in the tunnels, every sense stretched to detect the approach of an enemy. A tension headache began to form and I stopped as a hand touched mine.

  My hand tightened on my knife hilt as I stood perfectly still and readied it to slam home. Then the arm moved, inching up my arm, feeling for my shoulder. One of my minions then.

  A tap on my right shoulder and it was my turn to change direction, away from their search area. I moved onwards. Step, swing, step, swing, step, swing. Then pause. It wasn’t breathing that I heard, but a definite snuffling noise as something inhaled, searching for a scent.

  I waited, then it came again and with a silent grin, I moved towards it. Step, swing, step, swing and my hand bumped against something. A moan sounded and bone shattered as my aim was true. Another zombie fell before me.

  Two more died beneath my blade before a shriek came from nearby. I hurried towards the sound, making sure to take one step at a time before swinging my arm. Rushing would only result in my own death and anyone caught by a Feral was already dead, so not like I could be there in time to help them.

  My foot bumped against something and I stopped, ducking low, my hand reaching down. It came back sticky with what smelt a lot like blood. Fresh too. The body wore a leather jacket.

  A snarl came from behind me, followed by a bark and I tucked my shoulder as I fell into a roll, a whoosh of air where my head had been a moment before. Jinx snarled and snapped as she leapt at something in the darkness and I swore softly. I’d no intention of hitting her.

  Something hit the ground close by and a whimper sounded. I leapt towards the place I thought her attacker was and gasped, all air leaving me as something hit me hard in the stomach. I landed on the concrete with a grunt and rolled to the side as clawed feet scored the floor where I’d been laying.

  Found the Reaper, I thought as I rolled again, rising to my feet, chest heaving as I sucked in lungfuls of air. An instant’s warning was all I had and I caught the rush of air as something swung towards me. I blocked it with my right hand as I drew my short-bladed knife with my left.

  I crouched, taking a step back, waiting for the next attack. Jinx growled, low in her throat and I grinned. Then it growled back at her, in the darkness ahead and my blood ran cold. There was something different about this one.

  The others were fairly new. They had a small group of zombies following them and the physical changes were not that pronounced. This one… I could tell, it had changed some time ago.

  It swung again and I dro
pped down low, leg kicking out and screamed as the claws that had once been toes tore through my jeans and into my leg. Jinx leapt, her teeth seeking its flesh and was caught a stunning blow that was loud enough for me to hear before she slammed to the floor.

  A clawed hand gripped the front of my jacket and I was lifted easily into the air as the blood ran down my leg. I struck with my long-bladed knife only for it to block me with ease and the short-blade just skidded over the bone ridges on its skull.

  Foul air engulfed me as it pulled me close, hissing as its mouth opened and then it released me, spinning around as a knife sank into its back. My minion had a moment to scream before his lower jaw was torn free by the blow and I scrambled away, limping as I realised it had ripped into the same leg that was already bandaged from the glass shard that had impaled it.

  The Reaper roared and the sound echoed around the cavernous building, bouncing from the gargantuan machines and answered by a handful of Ferals.

  Maybe time to reconsider the no retreat policy, I thought with a chuckle as I reversed my grips on my knives and crouched. Blood leaked from my leg but the wound was shallow. I’d live and could still move around, though with pain.

  Jinx was down and out somewhere and at least two of my followers were dead. I grinned as I caught the faintest sound of movement as the Reaper settled down to all fours, its claws clicking against the concrete floor.

  I could picture what it was doing. Keeping low, hunched over with head raised so that it could search for my scent on the air. No need to search, I’m here.

  My knife blade tapped the metal of some hulking machine and I leapt to the right as something big and powerful pounced. My knives lashed out and it grunted as I tore its flesh. I couldn’t go through its skull, but that wasn’t the only way to stop it.

  It swung again and it was my turn to grunt as my feet were knocked from under me and I landed with a thud on the ground. A groan escaped me as a clawed hand pressed down on my chest, the five points digging into the leather of my jacket.

  The long-blade sank to the hilt in its side and its other hand grasped my wrist, forcing my arm down to the ground. I could just make out the dim shape of wide shoulders as its head came down, the whistle of air as it sniffed at me and a low rumble in its chest as its hunger rose.

  My short-bladed knife sank to the hilt in its left eye and it reared back, a howl unlike any I’d heard coming from it. Then jinx was there, leaping to its back, her teeth tearing at its neck. It seized her in its claws and tossed her aside before it ran.

  “What!”

  I pushed myself up, surprise lasting a moment as I set off after it. The click of claws on the floor behind me told me that Jinx was alive and well, which pleased me.

  A shaft of light illuminated the shop floor, blinding me momentarily as it crashed straight through a wooden door set into the wall and out into the daylight. I followed it, skidding to a stop and leaping to the side as my eyes adjusted, not trusting that it hadn’t set up a trap.

  “Ryan!” Lily yelled as she came running with the soldiers beside her.

  “Where did it go?” I demanded and she just pointed between two buildings.

  “Weapon,” I snapped. “I need a knife.”

  “Here,” she said, passing me her strange pointed weapon. It would do.

  I set off at as fast a pace as I could manage with my injured leg and after a moment’s hesitation, the soldiers followed after.

  Chapter 30 – Lily

  Everything had gone to hell. An ear-splitting howl had sounded from inside the building and moments later the drone controllers had radioed in a warning. The zombies at the docks had turned away from the soldiers there and were headed our way.

  Ryan was hurt and even Jinx seemed a little wobbly on her feet as she trotted after him. The soldiers, as soon as the Admirals orders were relayed to them, would be landing at the docks and heading after the undead. We’d catch them between us and hope that we didn’t all die.

  “What the hell was that!” Gregg asked as he ran alongside me, fear evident on his face.

  “Reaper,” I said and he grimaced.

  I rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, my heart leaping to my throat as I watched Ryan slide across the ground, beneath the legs of a creature out of nightmare. It spun, faster than I’d thought possible, and lashed out with its foot.

  He was catapulted six feet to hit the brick wall of a building with an audible thud. He barely paused for breath as he pushed himself to his feet and ran straight back at it.

  The Reaper swung clawed hands at him and he ducked beneath it, pivoting on his heel, his arm reaching out to grab something embedded in its side. He dropped into a roll and came to his feet several feet away, a grin on his face and one of his knives back in his hand.

  Jinx snapped at its heels and it lifted its head and roared to the sky, before turning and running before the soldiers arrived. With a weary shake of his head, Ryan set off in pursuit, Jinx not far behind.

  More of his followers came out of the building after him, blinking in the sunlight and more than one of them with blood on their blades. They’d been busy in there.

  “Watch out!” Gregg yelled and leapt at a zombie that was running towards me.

  He clubbed it with the steel buckler he wore and Lars stabbed down with his poignard.

  “Stupid! Giving away your weapon,” Gregg snapped. “Stay close.”

  It might have been foolish, but I was pretty sure that at that moment, Ryan’s need was more urgent than my own. I stayed beside Gregg, keeping a watchful eye out for anything I could use as a weapon. It didn’t take long before I found a length of rusted steel that would make a simple club.

  We moved as fast as we dared, between those tightly packed buildings. Stopping to engage groups of zombies as they came at us. They seemed to be coming from everywhere as they responded to the Reapers cry.

  I crushed the skull of a Shambler and batted aside the claws of a Feral before Kerry gave it a killing blow with her poignard. Admiral Stuart showed that he was no stranger to fighting the undead as he killed efficiently and without emotion.

  “Where’s Ryan?” I wondered aloud and Gregg shook his head.

  “No bloody idea.”

  We turned a corner and my question was answered. A handful of Shamblers lay dead on the ground and Ryan was in amongst another group of undead, using the knife and poignard to good effect as he killed almost effortlessly.

  Jinx leapt and snarled, her teeth snapping at limbs and throats alike. She was as in her element as he was and I noted once again the resemblance between the two. They were like-minded souls.

  “The Reaper?” Admiral Stuart called as the last Shambler fell.

  Ryan looked back in annoyance at the interruption and pointed ahead before setting off that way himself. We ran in pursuit.

  “Oh hell!” Gregg said as he skidded to a halt.

  “Form a line!” I snapped to my squad as the space between the buildings ahead of us filled with the undead.

  “Stay in between these buildings,” the Admiral said. “Limit how many can attack us at one time and… what the hell is he doing?”

  I just shook my head as Ryan and twenty or more of his followers ran straight at the undead. They were fearless and they killed silently, their knives rising and falling as blood filled the air, seeming to mingle with the moans of the undead and the screams of the dying.

  “Should we help?” Kerry asked.

  “Does it look like they need or want it?” I asked as the zombies died by the score.

  The slaughter lasted bare minutes and Ryan disappeared around the corner, his surviving followers running after. I stared across the open space that was littered with corpses and found I had no words.

  It was something terrifying to behold, watching them fight. They were truly without fear and paused only to plunge a knife into the skull of any of their downed comrades before moving on in search of more of the undead.

  “We can’t keep up,�
�� Admiral Stuart said. “They’re insane!”

  “Determined, sir,” I said. “Very determined.”

  He shook his head and said, “Let’s find that damned Reaper and be done with this.”

  We rounded the next corner and came face to face with true carnage. It was the same open area where the undead had sprung their trap the other day, unleashing the horde of Shamblers at us. This time it was them coming from the docks and far too few of us waiting for them.

  More of Ryan’s followers spilt out of the alleyways between the buildings and soon enough there were seventy or so black garbed figures standing waiting as the Shamblers and Ferals raced towards them.

  “We should join them,” I said and the Admiral nodded.

  “Advance!”

  We rushed ahead, joining the fight as the first wave hit the acolytes. Three of the marines pulled their assault rifles from their shoulders and broke off, moving to the side to get a clear view as they went down on one knee and began to take aimed shots at the crowd.

  In the centre of the mass, blood leaking from one eye socket, was the Reaper. It seemed to tower above the others, its narrow face twisted in hate. White filmed eye staring at Ryan as though he was the only thing it cared to see.

  Bone covered much of its skull, forming thick ridges that protected its brain. Blood stained its pale grey skinned arms and a sharp ridge of bone stuck through the skin from wrist to elbow. It was a creature that seemed to be designed for killing and fear ran through me just looking at it.

  All thought, all fear, vanished as I raised my buckler and the first zombie crashed against it. I slammed the steel bar down against its skull and braced myself for the next as my world narrowed to the people beside me and the enemy before me.

  Screams mingled with the moans of the undead, men and women fell beneath teeth and claw but a greater number fell to our weapons. Blood soaked the ground as the bodies piled up and I knew that without the acolytes we would have been overrun.

  They were, impressive. Never seeming to stop, they killed and they killed the undead. They were a force of nature; a maelstrom of death and Ryan was at the centre of it. Where he walked, the zombies died.