Beyond These Walls | Book 8 | Between Fury & Fear

by Robertson, Michael

  Between Fury and Fear: Book eight of Beyond These Walls

  A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

  Michael Robertson

  Contents

  Edited and Cover by …

  Copyright

  Reader Group

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Fury: Book one of Tales From Beyond These Walls - Chapter One

  About the Author

  Reader Group

  Also by Michael Robertson

  Edited and Cover by …

  To contact Michael, please email:

  subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Edited by:

  Pauline Nolet - http://www.paulinenolet.com

  Cover design by Dusty Crosley - https://www.deviantart.com/dustycrosley

  Copyright

  Between Fury and Fear: Book eight of Beyond These Walls

  Michael Robertson

  © Michael Robertson 2020

  Between Fury and Fear: Book eight of Beyond These Walls is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, situations, and all dialogue are entirely a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not in any way representative of real people, places, or things.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Chapter 1

  William’s shoulder ached, but he had this. Olga, Max, Gracie, and Artan were behind him. They might have meant to give their support, but they stood in a semicircle of scrutiny, judging his every step as he tiptoed through the long grass. He held his breath, his heart beating in his throat. One step at a time, he edged forwards. The blood drained from his right arm, and it tingled with the threat of pins and needles. But he continued to hold the spear aloft in his tight grip. His too tight grip. The memory of Artan’s teaching rang through his mind. Relax! Be at one with the weapon.

  Too much closer and he’d spook the fox. He had to rely on his aim. William’s legs shook as he took his next step, touching down with just the tip of his right toe. He held his balance. Three … Two … He threw the spear. Hard. Thwip!

  William’s entire frame sank as he put his heel down. His shot missed the creature by several feet. “Sh—”

  But his words were cut off by Olga’s spear. Launched from at least ten feet farther back, it sailed past him. The tip slammed into the side of the fox’s head, went straight through its skull, and pinned it to the soft ground.

  Hawk clapped, and Artan slapped Olga on the back as he said, “Good shot.”

  William returned to the only job he could do while they were out in the wild lands. He gathered up the legs of the dear Gracie had killed earlier, and he dragged it along with them.

  Artan and Hawk jogged over. They each took one end of the creature.

  William kept his focus on the ground while saying, “I’m fine.” But he let them lift the deer and lay it along the back of his shoulders.

  Hawk walked off while Artan rested a hand on William’s back. “You want me to help you?”

  William shook his head. He shivered from where the day had grown long, the wind picking up in the open meadow. “I need to do this. At least it’ll keep me warm, eh?”

  The weight of the deer now too much, William stared at Jezebel on the ground. Artan grabbed his weapon too and put it in his right hand. He slapped William’s back. “At least it’s not a stag.”

  William rolled his eyes. “Imagine!”

  A deep orange glow seared the evening sky, the setting sun obscured by the tall buildings in the ruined city. They’d spent the past few weeks on its periphery, growing stronger through rest and food.

  “I think we’ve done enough hunting for the day,” Gracie said.

  Every time she spoke, Olga’s face twisted like a mocking child. If Gracie noticed, and if she cared, she hid it well. Her voice chipper, she added, “We really don’t want to be out here when it gets dark.”

  They’d been following Gracie’s lead for the past few weeks since they’d left Grandfather Jacks’ palace. Even when they’d stopped to let Matilda rest up so she could heal, Gracie had taken charge. Most of them were comfortable with it. She’d shown them where to hunt, and they’d eaten well. They had food, they had water from a nearby lake, and they had each other. It had been a simple existence and exactly what they’d needed. But the fact remained; they had to move on sooner rather than later.

  Gracie took the lead with Artan at her side. They were heading back towards their ruined city. Olga and Hawk were next in line, and William took up the rear, sweating beneath the weight of the deer’s carcass.

  While derelict, the city was far more modern than the ruins on the outskirts of Edin. Many of the towers were taller than any buildings William had seen north of the funnel. Some of them stood hundreds of feet tall. Skeletons of what they once were, but they maintained their structural integrity. At night-time, when the wind picked up, the place wailed a haunting symphony. Some nights it kept him awake. He grunted with the effort of carrying the deer. At least he could guarantee one thing: tonight he’d sleep like the dead.

  William focused on the ground a few feet ahead of him and fell from one step into the next. The deer pressed down on his shoulders. Aches stabbed the base of his skull, and his head spun. He paused. As had the others.

  It came again. A moan of discontent. A tired and sad groan. A small cluster of trees stood on their left. The shadows in the fading light were deep enough to hide the creature.

  Artan, Olga, and Gracie raised their spears. William gripped Jezebel tighter.

  Hawk took off, charging away from the group.

  Gracie launched her spear. It shot past the attacking hunter and stuck into the diseased. It remained horizontal for a second before the creature fell onto its back, the spear now pointing straight up at the sky.

  “What the hell was that?” Olga said.

  “I hit it, didn’t I?”

  “And you nearly hit Max.”

  “Careful, love,” Gracie said, her eyebrows raised. “Call him that in front of Max and there will be trouble.”

  “Obviously I meant Hawk.” Olga tutted. Her face turned red as she spat her retort.
“Hawk!”

  And maybe the argument would have continued like many had over the past few weeks, but Hawk’s yell pulled them away from one another.

  “Hawk?” Olga said. “What the hell are you playing at?”

  Feet from the cluster of trees, Hawk pulled his knife from his belt, dropped his spear, and tackled another diseased to the ground. The shadows had hidden it from William’s sight. Hawk repeatedly stabbed the creature in the head, each attack sinking into it with a deep squelch.

  Thwip! Artan loosed his spear. It flew true, again showing William the location of yet another diseased. Like the one Gracie had nailed, Artan’s diseased fell backwards, the spear pointing straight up.

  Hawk painted a stocky silhouette. His broad shoulders rose and fell with his ragged breaths. He held his thick fists at his sides as he strolled back to the others. His lust for violence remained balled in his tight frame.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Olga said. “Again!”

  “I wanted—” Hawk caught his breath “—to make sure the diseased didn’t reach us.”

  “That’s what your spear’s for. You know that better than most. Who are you trying to impress by wrestling it to the ground? You make it much harder for any of us to fight it. Gracie nearly killed you.”

  Gracie shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

  Since they’d left the asylum, Hawk had developed a blind determination to help his friends. He’d thrown himself into danger at even the slightest hint of trouble. He could protect them, so he would. He’d screwed up in Umbriel when he’d turned on them, yet they still helped him free Dianna. He owed them all. At least, that was how he saw it. He shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  Her face red, her eyes wide, and even in the poor light William traced the spittle spraying from Olga’s mouth when she pointed back the way Hawk had come from. “Did you even see that one Artan took down?”

  “Yeah.” The light might have saved his lie had Hawk not spun around to watch Artan retrieve his spear.

  Artan returned with his and Gracie’s weapons. The pair of them wiped the tips clean in the long grass while Hawk and Olga glared at one another.

  “Come on,” Gracie said, “let’s go.”

  Their pause for Hawk to demonstrate his fighting skills had given William a much-needed rest. But now they’d set off again, he sweated as much as before. The darkness closed in, turning their city into a silhouette. The three most prominent buildings were a line of tall towers, the landmark William had used to orientate himself these past few weeks. He looked at them today from a new angle. It took several deep breaths to find his words. “Where are we going?”

  Gracie had begun an ascent up a short hill. “I’ll show you in a minute.”

  “You hadn’t planned on telling us you were taking a different route?” Olga said. “I thought you said we were heading back to the city?”

  Dew coated the long grass, turning William’s trousers damp. The weight of the deer on his back pushed every step into the soft ground.

  “Will you just shut up for a minute?” Gracie said.

  “What did you say?” Olga halted her climb directly in front of William. He stumbled to the side and went around her. Break his momentum now and he wouldn’t start again.

  Gracie reached the crest, Artan and Hawk stopping on either side of her.

  His lungs already tight, William lost more air at what he saw.

  As Olga joined them, Gracie said, “I wanted to bring you here in poor light so you can see what we’re dealing with.”

  A large city sat in the distance, on the edge of the ruins they’d been staying in. A tall wall surrounded it. Dark grey, thick, and impenetrable, it had been made from the same steel as the funnel. Light burst from within its walls, shining up into the sky like the head of a giant torch. This city stretched wider than the ruins it bordered.

  The wind was stronger for them being at the top of the small hill. It turned William’s sweat cold against his skin, his eyelids tacky with each blink. “How the hell are we supposed to get around that?”

  “And what the hell is it?” Olga said.

  A check from one side to the other, Gracie threw one more glance at the vast city in the distance and said, “We shouldn’t be talking about this here. They might see us.”

  “From all the way over there?” Olga said.

  “There are many things you don’t know about what lies ahead.”

  “Well, instead of holding onto all the secrets like the smug bitch you are, how about you share some of those things?”

  “First, I want to only say it once, so let me say it to everyone at the same time. Second, there are a lot of things for you to adjust to ahead. If I went into detail explaining all of those, we’d be here for another three months. If you come with me, you can see it for yourself when we travel farther south. Le—”

  Gracie got cut off by a loud boom! An orange glow from an explosion near the three towers in the city. Grey smoke lifted into the sky.

  “What the hell was that?” Hawk said.

  “Let’s get back to the others, and I’ll tell you everything in as much detail as I can.”

  Olga opened her mouth to reply, but Gracie had already jogged away down the hill. Hawk followed her.

  William stepped in their direction.

  “Come on,” Artan said to Olga, pulling on their fiery friend’s arm. “Let’s at least get out of their line of sight.”

  Gracie and Hawk a little way ahead of them, Olga said, “Are we sure we trust Gracie on this one?”

  “Not sure, no,” Artan said.

  “But what else do we have?” William added. “She’s led us true so far.”

  “Like they did in Umbriel?”

  “We can’t assume everyone’s going to screw us over like they did in Umbriel,” Artan said. “Here.” He stood close to William to allow him to slide the deer across to him. Moving off as if the heavy carcass weighed nothing, the boy, two years William’s junior and a skinny as a spear, ran down the hill after Hawk and Gracie.

  “Come on,” William said, pulling Olga along with him before he gripped Jezebel with both hands. He might not have the skills to throw a spear, but he could still remove heads with his axe. “Let’s get back to the others.”

  Chapter 2

  The sun had finally set, and William sat next to Matilda as part of a larger semicircle around the fire in the wrecked house. Half of its roof had fallen in. Despite the buildings inside the city having fared better against entropy, Gracie had insisted they stay there. It kept them from entering the ruins before they were ready, and because it had a fireplace on the first floor, it kept them away from the diseased and allowed them to cook what they caught at the end of each day.

  The deer William and Artan had carried hissed and spat over the flames. Outside, the cool breeze played the still city, whistling through the empty windows and rattling anything that hung loose. It toyed with the flames in the fireplace, turning their hypnotic sway erratic. A strong gust shot down the chimney. It squashed the flames, the fire vomiting a shower of sparks out onto the floor in front of them.

  They’d been there long enough to build the fire, light it, and prepare the deer. Gracie had had plenty of time, but she hadn’t yet told the others about the vast community on the outskirts of the ruined city. She’d not mentioned the explosion. “Can people see the flames?” William said.

  “Like who?” Max asked.

  Gracie’s eyes narrowed slightly before she shook her head. “No. Because this building is on the outskirts of the city and opens up onto the plains, you can only see us from the north. And the night hides the smoke coming from the chimney.”

  The silence swelled with anticipation, Gracie’s cue to continue. William looked from Artan, to Olga, and then to Hawk. Each of them fixed on Gracie, but she stared at the flames.

  Max had the ointment they’d taken from Grandfather Jacks’ palace. He dabbed it on his burns on his left pec and thigh before handing it to M
atilda. “You finish it.”

  Red-faced, Hawk clenched his jaw and stared at the ground as the two passed the jar between them. He’d been too familiar with that ointment as a child, the slashes around his neck evidence of Grandfather Jacks’ brutal regime.

  No need for a bandage now, Matilda upended the jar, tipping the rest of the ointment on what remained of the cut on her thigh. Both her and Max were almost fully healed, and they could have moved off a few days ago, but better to be sure. The flames cast deep shadows across her tense face, but she didn’t wince like she had when treating her wound previously. “Does it feel better?” William said.

  Although Matilda smiled before she replied, Hawk took the empty pot from beside her and launched it into the city through the hole in the roof with a, “Yeargh!”

  The group held their breath, the wind and the crackle from the fire the only sound until a gentle splash reported the pot’s landing.

  “I’ve lived in my community my entire life,” Gracie said. “My dad runs the place.”

  “What’s it called?” Matilda said.