Killing the Dead

by Richard Murray

  “Lily listen. We cannot do anything without risking ourselves. There’s just too many of them.” I said.

  She put her hands to her face, shoulders slumped. Defeated. That was the moment we heard the high pitched cry of a small child, muffled from within the car. Lily’s head snapped up, gaze locked to mine. Determination filled her eyes. “We have to help them,” She said, tone firm and brooking no argument.

  My hands moved slowly massage my temples to fend off the headache that was definitely on its way. Refusal would be the simplest and safest option. I could say no and walk away. The alternative would be to risk my life to rescue some people which would be something I definitely did not do without good reason.

  Another cry came from the car causing a new surge of activity from the zombies trying to claw their way in. Any minute now one of them would figure out how to smash the glass and the people inside would be dead. My problem would be solved. Lily continued to stare.

  “There’s a child in there Ryan” she hissed, her arms crossed before her. She wouldn’t back down. Truth be told I liked children and whilst I couldn’t grasp why the opinion of this woman meant something to me, it did. So I guessed I was about to do something stupid.

  “Fine!” I snapped back as I took stock of our situation. Brian would be useless so I discounted him. I had a knife, Lily and after a quick count; eight zombies surrounding a car. The street was empty and lined at either side by various shops. Raised brick planters stood at intervals filled with dirt and a variety of flowers. No weapons and no place to hide. Just wonderful.

  Lily looked at me expectantly. I outlined a rough plan then stood and drew my knife. I took a deep breath then moved forward blade held ready in a reverse grip, tip pointed downward and sharp edge forward. I was as ready as I ever would be.

  Slowly I crept towards the zombies, body kept as low as possible to avoid notice from the undead. The smell once more assaulted my senses. If I tried to breathe through my nose I wanted to gag. If I tried to breathe through my mouth I could taste the foulness on the air. I settled for taking shallow breaths and resolved to get a cloth to wrap around my face.

  When I reached three paces of the car I was still unnoticed. I risked a glance back to see Lily and Brian getting into position. My intention was to strike quickly to kill a couple before leading the rest away. Another deep breath then I stood and moved one step forward as I swung my blade, aimed directly at the temple of the zombie before me.

  My strike was true. The blade jarred my arm as it broke through the bone. The zombie fell to the side pulling my knife from my grasp. A new wail rose from the undead as my presence became known.

  I reached out to pull my knife from the skull only to find it stuck fast. With no time to spare I let it go and ran, away from the car and in the opposite direction of Lily. The zombies faced with an easier meal to hand, followed as I had hoped. They came quickly, several actually managing to run. I cursed. That was not expected. I tried to increase my speed as I ran down the street, breath already starting to come in gasps, sweat breaking out. If I survived I resolved to definitely do more cardio.

  At the end of the street was an intersection. The moans of the dead as they followed were already way too close for my liking. I cursed as I saw the street to the right filled with a number of zombies. The left had some but nowhere near as many. It irked that I was being forced by circumstances beyond my control to travel down paths not my choosing. I kept running.

  An ache began to form in my left side warning me of the beginnings of a stitch. I ran past several zombies who gave chase as soon as they noticed me. I was fortunate they had all the reasoning ability of a corpse. If just one of them had decided to try and cut me off I would have been done for.

  Ahead of me a large group of zombies stumbled and lurched onto the road I was running down. I was surrounded. I hoped it was happenstance and not some malevolent deity playing with me by having them surround me just as I had doubted their ability to do so. The zombies ahead, perhaps alerted by the moans of those behind me began to move in my direction.

  The buildings around me contained smaller independent shops. These had smaller windows to display their wares and standard wooden doors with glass panelling rather than the automatic all glass doors of the larger chains. My options were limited as I dashed to the nearest door and tried to open it.

  Despite a frantic attempt at both pushing and pulling, the first door was locked and refused to open. I moved as rapidly as I could to the second. My hand pressed to my side as I tried to relieve the pressure of my stitch. My lungs burned and my breath was laboured. I deeply regretted ever agreeing to help. The next door I tried was in a recessed entryway, it opened and I fell through slamming the door behind me and turning the small lock.

  I lay on the hard linoleum covered floor as I waited for my breathing to return to a more measured rate. A loud thump caused the door shake as the first zombie hit it, followed by a number of smaller thumps as its compatriots joined it. Their moans carried easily through the door. I watched as they pressed against the glass, the recess allowed only a couple to push against the door and the weight of the zombies behind ensured they couldn’t raise their arms to hammer on the glass.

  It was time to have a look around my safe haven. I hoped it would have a back door, if it didn’t I could be in for a long and lonely wait for the zombies to break through.

  The building I had found myself in was small. It was a single room with a small desk on which a cash register sat and a door lead to a back room. Numerous racks of clothing lined the walls and sat on the shop floor. So a clothes shop then. I had found refuge in a clothes shop. Whilst it would be pleasant to grab a change of clothing if time permitted, I did lament the fact that it was not a sports shop, a hunting store or any number of food retailers. All of which would provide things further along my list of needs than a change of clothes.

  The zombies had spread out along the front of the building and were pressed up against the windows. Various disgusting fluids smeared the windows with each new creature that pushed up against the front of the building. I desperately needed a new weapon.

  The clothing racks on the shop floor were cheap and shoddy material. I had no faith that the various parts would hold up to a serious attempt at a bludgeoning. Along the wall was a much more pleasing item. It was an eighteen inch chrome square tube in a general “L” shape. It had seven chrome balls welded to one edge to allow for coat hangers to rest against and it was mounted on the wall with a small yet sturdy diamond shaped piece of metal at one end. Thin enough to cut through flesh if swung with enough force but not so thin it would immediately buckle at the first blow.

  I stripped my new weapon of coat hangers as I dumped the clothes unceremoniously on the floor. It was attached to the wall by two small screws directly into the plaster. It took only a small amount of force to wrench it free of the wall. Happily armed with a weapon I went to check the back room. If I were lucky it would have an out of this place.

  My luck ran true to form. The back room held just a few boxes of clothing and some stairs leading to the second floor. The sound of glass breaking and renewed moans decided my next course of action. I pulled over a stack of boxes in front of the entranceway in hopes of delaying my gruesome pursuers and cautiously proceeded up the stairs.

  The stairwell was narrow and dark, it changed course abruptly half way along its length. I was forced to tentatively peer around the corner before continuing to the top and a closed door. This door bore no lock and it was possible that the room beyond held the living quarters of the shop owner. I pressed my ear to the door and knocked.

  Some muffled sounds were all I heard, perhaps an indication of an occupant; but no proof to say whether living or dead. I braced myself as best I could. Weapon raised above me ready to strike down, I opened the door.

  Inside were the living quarters as suspected and devoid of life, living or dead. Before me was a simple living room with an open kitchen and two closed doors
. The living room held a large sofa and an easy chair, both facing an old large TV. A mirror and a clock hung on the wall. It was a simple and plain room, somewhere to pass the time and not somewhere to live. The moans of the undead were becoming louder and sounded as though they came from the bottom of the stairs.

  Once again the sofa formed the beginnings of a barricade. I slammed shut the door and manoeuvred the sofa up against it. I then picked up the chair and put that on top, followed by the heavy TV. It wasn’t ideal but it would hold them off, I hoped.

  I cast my eyes over the tiny kitchen area. It held very little in the way of useable items but in one of the drawers, I found several kitchen knives. Large flat blades with sharp edges, I placed two firmly beneath the door to the stairwell to act as doorstops. Just in time as the first zombie reached the door and attempted to break through.

  The door now secure, I rooted through the kitchen looking for food. The fridge held some cheese and bread, along with lettuce and a few small tomatoes. I didn’t bother making a sandwich. I just ate it all as quickly as I could after I made sure that I had scrubbed my hands free of the zombie juices first at the sink. A bottle of milk finished off my meal after a brief sniff to tell if it was safe.

  A thump from behind one of the closed doors reminded me that I needed to clear the back rooms. I picked up my weapon and approached the first door which swung inwards to reveal an empty bathroom that consisted of a sink, toilet and shower. No place for a zombie to hide. I moved to the next.

  As my hand touched the door handle a thump came once more from within. My mouth was suddenly dry and my pulse started to race. I took a firm grip on the handle, turned it and threw open the door.

  The bedroom was taken up almost entirely by a large bed crammed against the far wall. On the opposite side of the room were a chest of drawers and wardrobe. On the bed a naked man lay spread-eagled amongst the sheets. Blood pooled on the bed and speckled the walls, furniture and even the ceiling. A fully clothed and very much dead woman knelt on the bed beside him. Her long blonde hair reddened at the ends as she bent over the ravaged flesh of his stomach, feeding. Blood and gore covered her face and chest. Her arms were caked a glistening crimson to her elbows.

  With the door open the smell rushed out and I retched, the sound alerted the zombie to my presence. Her gaze caught mine and we stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity. She opened wide her mouth and shrieked as she scrambled across the bed to reach me.

  My arm dropped, weapon striking her with all the force I could muster. She collapsed to the floor as I struck her twice more to ensure that she would not rise again. My chest heaved and my hand ached from gripping so tightly to the metal of my weapon that was now bedecked with her blood, skin and hair. She had been fresh enough that I bore more than a little of her blood. If my barricade held then it would be time for a shower. First though I had to do one more thing. I walked slowly alongside the bed until I was within reach of the naked man’s head. I struck once, twice then once again at his temple before dropping my weapon.

  A small window was set into the wall above the bed, curtains closed. I played out what must have happened in my head. The owner asleep here in his room, his partner or staff member had opened the shop and managed to get herself somehow infected before heading back upstairs to clean the wound. She no doubt turned into one of the undead and attacked the man as he lay in his bed, perhaps knocking closed the door and trapping herself in the room.

  Fortunate for me at least as it left the shop door unlocked just when I needed it. I opened the curtains letting in the morning sunlight to bathe the grisly scene. The window had a locking mechanism that only allowed it to open a little. It was enough to see that it was set above the front of the shop. Directly below I could see the street I had run down so short a time ago and a dozen zombies who had not yet managed to clamber through into the shop. In short there was no way out. I had trapped myself.

  I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me as I leaned back against the wall. The exertions of this morning had taken their toll. I slowly let myself slide down until I was sat against the wall facing the front entrance. Two dead zombies behind me with an unknown number of hungry undead beyond the door and I was covered liberally in blood with no way out. I was trapped. I lowered my head and waited for the zombies to break through the front door.

  Chapter 6

  If Lily had done as she was supposed to, she would be waiting for me with Brian and whoever she had managed to rescue just a few streets away. I couldn’t help but wonder how long she would wait for me to arrive before giving me up for dead. If the roles were reversed and if I were the one waiting, it wouldn’t be long.

  The noise the zombies made as they tried to enter this small apartment had begun to grate. From where I sat against the wall I could see the door shake as the mindless things tried to batter their way through. It hadn’t taken long for despair at my situation to turn into boredom. I could always remove the barricade and try and fight my way out. That at least would provide a little excitement. It would be better than waiting anyway.

  A fight to the death was much more deserving of a more formidable weapon than a clothes rack. I made my way around the living space searching for something to use. In the bedroom I found a cell phone, though having no numbers to call it would be little use. I did try the emergency services but whenever I dialled the number it was busy. I put the phone into my pocket anyway. It may come in useful later and my own phone had been forgotten when I left my home yesterday.

  Beneath the sink I found a rusted toolbox containing no less than three screwdrivers, a pair of pliers and a claw headed hammer. I left the pliers and managed to place the three screwdrivers into my jacket pocket. I did have to pierce the material to make them fit but my gore covered clothing was ruined anyway. The hammer I kept to hand, it would be a handy weapon to help bludgeon my way to freedom.

  I was taking one final look around the kitchen before I left when I noticed it. A ceiling hatch. It was set high in one corner above some cabinets. It was small and I may struggle to get through but it was something. It was perhaps more of a chance at survival than trying to fight my way free.

  With a chance of escape my mood lightened and I went back into the bedroom. I searched through the cabinet and drawers. I put some socks, a couple of plain t-shirts and some shorts that looked like they might fit me into a black backpack that I found at the bottom of the cupboard. Then back to the kitchen where I added as much food as I could without over filling it.

  To reach the hatch I had to climb onto the countertop and try to hold myself steady with one hand on the top cupboard as I reached across and pushed open the hatch. With the hatch open I could swing the backpack through, before grabbing onto the rough wooden ledge risking splinters. I stepped off of the countertop and swung free for a moment before heaving myself up and through the hole into the attic with trembling arms.

  Within the attic all was darkness, the weak light coming through the ceiling hatch giving scant illumination. I pulled the dead man’s phone from my pocket and switched it on. The light from the screen would serve as torch, it provided just enough to allow me to move around the attic space and see that it was empty.

  As attics go it was fairly standard. A brick wall stood firm on either side of me, preventing access into the roof compartments of the neighbouring shops. Thick wooden beams ran from one wall to the next with thick insulation material filling the gaps between. The roof rose to a peak allowing me to stand fully upright only in the centre of the room.

  Between the wooden joists that rose to the peak I could see the roof felt and timber laths that the slate tiles of the roof sat upon. The claw hammer proved invaluable as it ripped aside felt and thin lath with ease. The slate tiles were nailed in place and required some work with the hammer before I had broken enough to make a sizeable hole in the roof.

  Dust filled the air and coated my clothes, sticking to the blood and various other fluids that hadn’t yet dr
ied fully. I looked a mess and would have dearly loved a shower. The light rain falling through the new made hole in the roof wouldn’t do much. I cautiously poked my head through the hole. The roof was thankfully zombie free. I grabbed my backpack and pulled myself through.

  The tiles were slick with fresh fallen rain and I could see that the edge of the roof ended abruptly. No stone lip to prevent my falling on the zombies milling below. I very carefully pulled myself up the roof until I could sit on the ridge tile that capped the peak. The view was impressive.

  Smoke wreathed the town. From my vantage point I could see much of the town centre. Peaked slate tile roofs atop two story buildings of stone, would give way abruptly to newer more imposing buildings of concrete and brick. It was easy to see how the town had changed as newer and more modern buildings were built.

  Few cars were moving along the streets I could see, though each seemed to have a number of shambling figures. Around a few store fronts zombies would gather peering within. They seemed able to tell which buildings had people hiding within. Perhaps they could smell the scared people or hear them. They could even have another sense for all I knew. One thing was obvious, they were hungry and they wouldn’t stop until they got their prey.

  The silence that had settled over the town was broken occasionally by the pop pop pop of gunshots in the distance. The police or the military were in town and fighting back. As loathe as I were to put myself into the hands of the forces of law and order, it had become clear that my initial thoughts that I would need to be a part of a group to be able to survive this were on the mark.

  The park where I was supposed to have met Lily and the others was not visible from my current vantage point, but I could at least tell the general direction in which the street lay. Travelling across the rooftop would get me as far as the end of this block of buildings but I would still need some way down. Preferably a way that would allow me to slip quietly past the undead.