“Doesn’t matter,” I said as a howl sounded from the top of the hill opposite.
A lone Feral stood there, hunched forward with its head raised with face up towards the sky and tilted slightly to one side. Its skin was almost entirely grey and whatever hair it had once had fallen away, as had much of its clothing.
Whatever gender it might have once been was immaterial. It cared only for the flesh of the living and even the dead should there be no other more appealing option. It opened its mouth and another howl, more animal than human, issued from it.
At the bottom of the hill, Nathan was scrambling to his feet, panic evident in his movements and I almost laughed. He was a good three hundred metres below us and the hill at the other side was half that.
They poured over the crest of the hill in a wave, running at full speed, dropping down to run on their clawed hands as well as their feet. Many of them fell on the slope and lost control of their descent but many others kept their balance and were on him in moments.
I watched as they tore him apart, a blood mist rising as those blackened claw-like fingers dug into warm flesh, his screams echoing from the hillside and mixing with the weeping and gasps of horror of my companions. None could turn from the grisly sight though all knew we needed to put some distance between them and us.
Georgia’s eyes met mine and I saw my delight mirrored there. There was something in watching the death of another person that energised me and with renewed vigour, I continued up the hillside.
Down below, several of the Ferals made a half-hearted attempt to climb the hill but struggled due to the steepness. They would have to go a little out of their way to find an easier way up since I doubted they’d get too far before slipping back down if they followed us. It bought us a little more time.
I ignored the weeping as best I could as I reached the top of the hill and staggered onwards. It seemed prudent to put as much distance as possible between us and the top of that hill before the undead managed to climb it.
Ideally, of course, we would be better served with a place where we could hide until they had gone past. I doubted that would happen since we hadn’t found any such suitable place in the past six weeks. No, the best we could hope for was distance and then a distraction. I eyed my companions and wondered which would be best to use for said distraction.
We’d travelled, by my best estimation, about six miles from the village of Durisdeer. Six painful miles of unrelenting terrain that was sapping out strength more than the zombies. My hand dropped to the handle of my knife as I considered the possibility that I wouldn’t actually make it over the hills and all the while, a treacherous little part of my mind, suggested that perhaps I shouldn’t have left my friends after all.
Another nine miles and we would be somewhere near the reservoir that Marie and Jeremy had spoken of. Not that I expected we’d make it that far. Even without the zombies chasing us it would take another couple of days at least. We didn’t have that time.
“What’s that?” Georgia said and I glanced her way, irritated at her interruption of my thoughts.
She saw my look and ignored it as she pointed off to her right and nodded her head towards something atop the hill to the east.
“Look,” she said when I didn’t immediately respond. “What is it?”
I followed her gaze and stopped, raising one hand to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun as I tried to make out what was nestled just below the crest of the hill. Then I turned back to her, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise.
“A chance to survive,” I said as I changed my direction to head towards where she’d been pointing.
“Nice,” Georgia muttered as I passed. “Could you be any more cryptic?”
I shook my head with a grin and ignored her moue of annoyance. Moments later I heard her gathering the attention of the others and briefly wondered why she’d bothered. If they’d noticed us leaving they could have followed.
As I scrambled up the next hill, a glance back revealed that the undead had made it up the hill. A few at least, with more sure to follow. It wouldn’t be long before they noticed us and then they would come at speed. I pushed on and paused at the top of the hill as I smiled and nodded to myself.
The remnants of a passenger aeroplane lay on the grass, a churned-up furrow of earth trailed off from the end of it and scattered wreckage covered much of the hillside. Cracked windows and a ragged hole where one of the wings had been were the first thing I noticed. Second, was the number of decayed bodies that lay around. The tail section had broken away completely and was thirty metres or so away from the rest of the wreckage.
“They didn’t turn,” Lisa said as she came up beside me, face flushed and breath coming heavy.
“No,” I agreed as I surveyed the bodies. Exposed to the elements for a number of months they were mostly bone and ragged fragments of clothing. “Must have been from the very beginning.”
“What happened do you think?”
“Ran out of fuel most likely,” I said with a shrug. “In the chaos of the fall of the world, they would have struggled to find somewhere safe to land. Probably headed towards a Scottish airport when they ran out of fuel and had to crash land.”
“What makes you think they were out of fuel?” she asked and I held back a sigh.
“Fuel burns. If there’d been any left then it’s likely there’d have been a fire or, judging from the damage to the main body of the plane, some kind of leakage.”
“No time for chatting,” Georgia said as she joined us. “What’s the plan?”
“We hide until the zombies have passed,” I said with a grin and set off towards the downed plane.
Chapter 6
Since the passenger door at the rear had been torn off with the tail section and the one set into the fuselage just behind the cockpit was still closed, we had little choice but to climb inside through the cargo section.
Suitcases and bags were strewn around and many had been spread across the hillside when the plane crashed. Those that hadn’t would be a useful source of potentially useful items for us. I made a mental note to check them later. If we survived
The cargo bay was a separate section beneath the main compartments where the passengers would spend their time during the flight and while I doubted there would be a handy door and stairs leading up to that compartment, I was quietly confident that there would be some manner of access.
Georgia pulled out the penlight torch she kept in her pocket and flicked it on, shining the tight beam of light around the cargo bay. I nodded my thanks and kicked aside a leather bag before climbing a small pile of suitcases that had spilt free of their containment.
It didn’t take long to find it. A small hatch set up towards the ceiling in the forward section. It had a simple handle locking mechanism and could be opened from the inside with a little effort.
There was a section of carpet over the hatch but it posed no real problem for us and I waved Georgia forward. She cocked one eyebrow my way but I saw no reason to give an explanation to her. She had the torch and was an adept killer, so it made sense to send her first. While I had the heavy bag to carry and zero interest in killing any random undead that may be lurking in the compartment.
She climbed up past me, her body pressing close to mine in the tight confines of the cargo bay. The earthy scent of the herbs she carried with her was almost overpowering and beneath it, the sour stench of unwashed body and clothes worn too long. Another reason to avoid being in close contact with people.
Johnny went next and he was followed by Mark. Both of them gave me a curious glance as they passed and I resisted the urge to grin mockingly at them. I had no need to justify myself to either of them.
When Lisa and Abi were up, followed by the little family of three, I pushed my rucksack through the opening and climbed up myself, closing it behind me and pausing as I listened for the sounds of violence. None came and I was surprised to find myself a little disappointed. Perhaps my bloodlust hadn’t
gone entirely after all.
“All clear,” Mark said as he led the others back to where I waited. “What now?”
“Wait here,” I said. “Rest and wait for the zombies to pass. They won’t reach us up here and if we’re quiet, they’ll have no reason to do anything but pass on by.”
“If you say so,” Lisa said.
“Stay away from the rear and the gaping hole in the side there,” I pointed to the hole left when the wing was torn away. “And we should be fine.”
Their faces, hidden partially by shadows, were sceptical but they realised they had little choice. I swallowed back what I was going to say and settled down on the carpeted floor, my back to the cockpit door.
With many meaningful looks cast to each other, the rest of the group did the same and we settled in for the long wait.
It didn’t take long for me to get bored. Sitting there in the shadowy recesses of the plane wreckage. With the light filtering in from the hole in the side and the larger hole at the rear where the tail section had been, I could see just enough to make me curious.
Many of the seats still held people. Badly decomposed, but enough of them left to tell a story. They were strapped into their seats, many with oxygen masks fitted to their faces. They’d been alive when the plane was coming down and more to the point, they hadn’t been panicking about zombies.
No one who was worried about being bitten would have been strapped into their seats sucking in oxygen. They’d have been out and as far from the zombie as possible. Besides, if anyone had been bitten then they’d still be strapped in their seats and making a ruckus at our appearance.
Which means I was likely right that the plane had either been in a holding pattern or searching for somewhere to safe to land when they crashed. With no survivors and out in the middle of nowhere, crashing just as things were going to hell, no one had looted the place.
I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the curious looks of my companions and started searching, as quietly as I could.
There was a small galley section just before the first-class seating and it was there I started to search. The plane wasn’t one of the larger ones used for international flight. I could tell that much from the propeller attached to twisted engine remains alongside the wing. Internal flight then, from London to Edinburgh perhaps.
So, likely no meals, which was fine as they would have gone off long ago. What they would have though, was snacks. I smiled to myself as I pulled open a drawer and beheld the contents. I pulled several packets of assorted nuts from the drawer and passed them to Georgia who had followed me silently.
She smiled happily and practically skipped back to the others to share them out as I pulled out more of the same and a handful of chocolate bars too. I’d never been a huge junk food fan but beggars couldn’t be choosers and any food, right then, would have been welcomed.
Johnny and Lisa came to help, whispering excitedly to each other as I passed over more of the snacks and pulled open another drawer. Crisps and more crisps in that one and in the next, more of the same. A larger cabinet to the bottom held cans of pop and I began to pull them out.
As my companions began to empty the drawers, I took a chocolate bar, bag of dry roasted peanuts and a can of cola for myself and moved over to one of the broken windows.
The ferals had found the wreckage. The first of them moving in that peculiar way of theirs when hunting for sign of their quarry. Hunched over, arms extended so they could lash out as needed and head tilted back and upwards, sniffing at the air.
Several of them moved around the outside of the wreckage and more were joining them as I watched. I chewed thoughtfully on a handful of peanuts as I watched them.
If they decided to pass the wreckage by and continue on their way, we still had the larger horde of Shamblers to worry about. They were headed towards us at a slower pace, but they would get to us soon enough. Waiting for them to pass would take some time.
Not only that. The horde was large enough that even when the main body had passed us by, there would be small groups trailing for miles. Our best option was to wait for the Ferals to pass and then immediately head due east. If we were lucky, we’d reach the far end of the horde before they reached us and then we’d be away from them for good.
“Deep thoughts,” Georgia said softly and I frowned as I glanced at her. I’d been too absorbed in my thinking to notice her approach. That wasn’t a good sign. I was getting far too comfortable and was losing my edge.
“As usual,” I replied with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. I’d need her help soon enough.
“You think they’ll find us up here?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. I shrugged.
“Probably not unless we’re unlucky.”
“I’m going to kill the kid,” she said and I stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say.
“Why?”
“She’s already getting restless and the mothers constantly shushing her. Won’t be long before she gets upset and starts wailing. Then we all die.”
For the first time ever, I understood how my friends had felt when listening to me. Her reasoning was sound, the logic was correct, but the reality of killing a child for such a reason was… wrong? And it irritated me no end that I knew that. A year ago, I wouldn’t have.
Killing children wasn’t something I found in any way enjoyable and I knew that even if I hadn’t been inclined to stop it happening, she would never have forgiven me. Not that there was any chance of her forgiving me for killing my brother and the others, but still, a child would be something she would not have tolerated. And in truth, neither could I.
“No,” I said and it was her turn to frown.
“What do you mean?”
“Fairly self-explanatory. I won’t let you kill the child.”
“You, won’t let me!” she said. Her voice, while hushed, was full of anger.
“No.”
“And how will you stop me, huh?” she asked, hand reaching down to grasp the hilt of her Hori Hori. “What makes you think you could?”
“I’ll kill you,” I said simply and without changing the tone of my voice. As though we were just having a normal conversation.
“Yeah! You’ve done a lot of that lately haven’t you?” she sneered. “Hardly at your best at the moment.”
“Ask yourself this,” I said softly as I watched the Ferals moving down below us. “Do you care enough to fight me over this? Or would you rather we remained friends?”
I could practically feel her stare on the back of my neck as I purposefully avoided looking at her. If she wanted to strike me down while I wasn’t watching, then so be it. Somehow, I didn’t think she would though.
“Fuck you!” she snapped and turned on her heel to walk away.
“So, she will live?” I asked quietly to her retreating back.
She didn’t immediately speak but turned her head to the side, just enough to be able to see me and nodded once before saying, “She lives if you kill one of the others. Today.” Then stormed off as I went back to watching the Ferals.
I didn’t know quite why I cared whether the child lived or died, but I knew that it was right that she did. As to why Georgia was so insistent on me killing someone, that was a question I really had no idea what the answer could be.
The air inside the fuselage, just behind the cockpit, was fairly rank after just a short time with the group crammed in there. The day's heat, even considering the altitude we were at, was far too warm and we’d had little reason to consider jackets.
Considering that we were in Scotland, even with it being summer, the heat was a concern. The UK was generally a damp and overcast place. The kind of heat and cloudless days we’d been getting seemed out of place.
If nothing else, it made our hiding place even more uncomfortable and I began to grow bored. Georgia’s ultimatum kept running through my mind and I watched the others of the group as I decided who I would kill.
Not Georgia of course, she was the la
st connection I had to my previous group and she at least understood me. I’d become used to not having to hide myself entirely and she was the last person I could be myself with.
Lisa, was less annoying than the others. She tended to keep to herself more than the rest of them and seemed to have at least some survival instinct. Abi, on the other hand, was a glutton who cared more for herself than anyone else.
I eyed the half-dozen screwed up wrappers in her lap and the pile of snacks beside her. When we were facing potential starvation and a daily struggle to find food, killing the greedy person would be a benefit to us all.
Mark irritated me. He believed that he was naturally the best suited to lead. Whether that was due to the circumstances of his privileged life or just an innate arrogance, I could almost see myself enjoying killing him.
Johnny, I discounted. He sat with his back to the wall and his head down. His usual cheer was absent and I suspected that he was mourning the loss of his friend, Nathan. They’d all survived the apocalypse long enough by now that they were used to seeing friends die.
That was why they’d been fairly blasé about the death of Alison and while Nathan’s death had been fairly graphic and appalling for them, they’d moved on from it before we’d even reached the top of the hill. Grief was a luxury that we no longer had and the fact that Johnny was still willing to allow himself to mourn, made him slightly unique. Like my old friends.
To kill either of the parents of the child would be counterproductive. Killing one of them would mean the burden of caring for the girl would fall to the rest of us. With both parents alive, they could share that burden between them and when we found somewhere vaguely safe, we could leave them without the usual discussion on whether we should or not.
Which pretty much meant I’d decided. It would be Mark or Abi. The question was how, when and where. I had a bit of a deadline for the kill and since we were trapped together in a small enclosed space, that would make things a little harder. If not interesting at least.
March of the Dead (Killing the Dead Book 11) Page 5
