“Couple of weeks ago,” Lou said. “Over the radio. It was a general message to anyone listening who met someone called Ryan. I wasn’t sure it was you, seemed unlikely, but I guess not. What does it mean?”
“Nothing,” I said in a voice that was cold and distant. “Nothing at all.”
I climbed the ladder, mind racing. It was her, it must have been. They’d found the Navy they’d been looking for and had managed to get a message out. Not an easy feat since I doubted they’d be giving air time to any old survivor.
They were safe! That pleased me more than I could have ever imagined.
“What’s up with you?” Georgia asked as I pulled myself to the top of the wall.
“Nothing,” I said and though she looked sceptical, she didn’t press.
They were safe! And more than that, they’d sent a message for me. I knew that what I had done, the promise I had broken and how I had broken it, had forever ended any chance of my being a part of their group, but they had taken the time to reach out to me. That wouldn’t have been easy and perhaps, meant something. I just wasn’t sure what.
But, why hadn’t they given any names? How could I be sure they all made it? Reeling from the loss of Pat and without Georgia nor my blade, they would have had a hard fight. Something I’d not considered in my usual selfish way. If they had all made it safely, surely they would have said ‘we are all safe.’
I barely acknowledged the man who handed me back my knife or my companions as we descended the ladder down to the road that led into the town. I forced those thoughts down and turned my attention to the road ahead. I needed to be alert.
The road led off to the north-west and it soon became apparent where the items for the wall had come from. The industrial estate that the distribution centre was part of, also had a builder’s merchants and a salvage and recovery yard, which by the looks, still had plenty of old train carriages, trucks and cars stacked in neat rows.
Beyond them was a parcel service, home improvement store, auto parts shop and cabinet manufacturers. It was a pretty good place to have chosen to build yourself a fortress. Everything you could need for an extended period of time was there.
Even with the water off, they had the river and ample gear to make all the water filtration systems they needed. Lou had said they had a couple of engineers and I very much doubted that would be a problem for any half competent one. It was no wonder they had survived so long.
A little further along the road, on the opposite side of the industrial estate, were the first houses. Two-storey terraced houses of yellow brick with red tile roofs. Each of them had a small garden and more than one had cars parked outside.
We ignored those first houses. They would have been the first ones cleared and each of the doors had a red cross spray-painted on it with a circle around. I could guess the meaning but would wait for confirmation before I was sure.
None of those houses with the red cross and circle had any undead. Many of the doors hung part way open and after a short walk, we came to the first house that still contained undead. We could see it clearly, staring out of the window at the road.
Bloody smears covered the glass and it stood unmoving, patiently waiting for a reason to continue banging on the glass. The door had a cross spray-painted on it and confirmed my suspicion.
When they first realised a house contained the undead, they would have marked it with a red cross as warning to avoid. Later, when things had settled down, they would have added the circle when they went in and cleared a house. A simple way of letting their own people know that house was clear and had been looted.
“What do you think?” Georgia asked the group in general. “We need food and water.”
“Taps will all be dry,” I said. “But we could hope for cisterns and bottled water.”
“Could use a place to rest too,” Kareem said. “I’m knackered.”
“Nae laddie,” Amos said. “You ken sleep later. I wouldn’a mind being further in first.”
He scratched at his matted beard and squinted up at the sun in the cloudless sky. Sweat beaded his forehead and he grinned, showing yellowed teeth.
“Way I see it, those pricks back there will have cleared out the good stuff close to the base and probably the shops in the town centre too.”
“So, what is your suggestion?” I asked though I cared little. I just wanted something to focus on to stop my mind from lingering on thoughts of the damned message.
“That motorway heads right to Glasgow,” he said. “I reckon there’ll be a bridge either over or under it somewhere towards the top of town.”
He glanced at me, meeting my eyes for just a moment as his grin widened.
“I say we find a place close to that to set up camp. We rest for a few days, looting houses and getting ready. Then, when the zombies start coming our way, we piss off over the bridge and keep going north.”
“There’s nothing up there,” I pointed out. “You told us that yourself. That’s why you were headed south.”
“But we know there was a safe zone and we know that if we stick close to the coast we can probably catch the attention of a boat and get a ride across to the Isle of Lewis.”
“We could have fun there,” Georgia said. “Thousands of people to play with.”
“What about these raiders they mentioned?”
“Fuck em,” Amos spat. “If we find em, we kill or join em. Either way, it’ll be fun.”
There seemed to be little else to say and I followed them in silence as Amos led the way through the town. More than once our presence was noted and a banging began on a window, some desiccated zombie weakly trying to reach us, hungry for our flesh. We didn’t bother to stop.
By mid-afternoon, in some upmarket part of the town, surrounded by houses that would have cost three or four times what I’d paid for my little house so long ago now, Amos pointed to one house in particular.
“There,” he said. “We’ll stay there.”
A four or perhaps a five-bedroom house that covered a fair bit of land. The garden was larger than some of the houses we’d seen on our way there and it was one of many similar in the street. Greystone, red tiled roof and expensive cars abandoned in a few of the driveways.
The gardens were overgrown but had once been well tended with rockeries, flower beds and shrubbery. Elaborate iron-wrought gates were fitted at the end of each driveway and tall wooden fences provided privacy. Not a very friendly neighbourhood I guessed.
It was situated with a few other houses on a bit of a hill allowing it to rise above the houses of the more common people and since it was on the edge of town, likely had a stunning view of the hills and fields.
I left them to it as they broke in and ransacked the place. I had no real urge to kill any lingering undead that inhabited the house and even less desire to rummage through the previous occupant’s sad belongings.
Weariness covered me like a blanket, heavy and dark, determined to drag me down. Urging me to close my eyes and just sleep for an hour or an eternity. It didn’t really matter. I was done.
The apocalypse had lost all the joy it once held and I had felt pleasure in killing only once in the months since I’d left my friends. It was only the belief that I would kill Georgia for her murder of the child and Amos because I just didn’t like him, that had kept me going. But, if I were honest, I doubted I’d bother.
There was no point. It would bring me no joy, no surge of adrenaline, no addictive pleasure. If I killed them, I would still be dead inside. That roiling ball of darkness that kept me killing, that sought out death and chaos had been quiet too long and I doubted it would ever awaken.
“Ryan!” Georgia called from the doorway. I twisted my head to look around from where I slouched beside the gate. “Food!”
She held up a couple of tins of something or other, it was too distant for me to read the labels but she seemed happy about it. I waved and she ducked back inside as my stomach rumbled.
My new companions we
re less than pleasant company and I had little real desire to continue along in the zombie filled world. Moving from place to place, scratching around the leavings of the old world for scraps of food.
The endless fight against the undead, the worthless survivors who would need to be protected or killed for what little they had. Every day a pathetic struggle to make it through to the next as insects swarmed us and hordes of rats and other vermin grew fat on the dead.
I couldn’t end it myself. I detested suicide, considering it a boring death with no real purpose, and I knew that she would be disappointed if I did such a thing. What I could do though, was head back to the fortress that had once been a distribution centre and offer up my blade. I could fight and die on the wall, protecting people. A fitting end and one that would perhaps redeem me a little in her eyes.
With that decided, I pushed away from the gate and headed to the house. A good night’s rest and some decent food, then I would head back. I’d need my strength if I were to not make it easy for the undead.
Chapter 17
I didn’t leave the next day. When I awoke, feeling somewhat refreshed and not quite so hungry after a meal of mixed veg, corned beef and tinned potatoes, warmed over a campfire we’d made in the garden, I left the house determined to meet my fate. I met Georgia instead.
“What do you think it is?” she asked dreamily as she stared at the thick plume of black smoke that rose into the early morning sky. “Is it their base?”
“No,” I said as I watched the smoke rise, drifting slightly to the east with the gentle breeze. “I think part of the preparations Lou mentioned included the fuel tankers. That is likely a whole hell of a lot of the undead burning.”
“Ah well,” she said with a shrug. “Breakfast?”
“Sure.” My stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food and she smiled prettily. “We actually have cereal. No milk, but it’s still good to eat.”
“How’re we doing for water?”
“We finished off those litre bottles we found in the pantry,” she said with a shrug. “Will check the other houses next door in a bit.”
I glanced at the corpses that Kareem and Harper had dumped beside the door. A man and a woman, both likely headed towards retirement when they turned. They hadn’t put up much of a fight.
“Where is everyone?”
“Amos is still sleeping,” she said as she pulled a bowl from a cupboard in above the kitchen counter. “The other two went out.”
“So early?”
I accepted the bowl of bran flakes with a nod and scooped a couple into my mouth. Dry and a little soft, lacking in any real flavour but they would do.
“To be honest I think they have an… arrangement.”
Her grin was impish as she said it and I felt the frown form. I had no idea what she meant but wasn’t interested enough to ask, despite her clearly wanting me to. After a minute’s silence, but for my chewing, she rolled her eyes.
“They’re fucking each other,” she said and laughed. “I’m sure of it. Poor babies must be lonely.”
“What do you care? If they want to, it’s their business.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” Her pout was at odds with the sparkle in her eyes as she watched me.
“Means they aren’t trying to hump your leg,” I said. “Unlike Amos.”
Though I hadn’t joined in their conversations, even I had been able to tell he’d been flirting outrageously with her. She’d responded in kind but artfully dodging any firm commitments to share his bed.
“True. I miss the attention a little. I’m the only woman here and a hot one at that, so I should have you all fawning over me.”
“If you say so.”
Her smile faded as her brow creased and I figured she’d expected some different response. My lack of desire for her seemed to be an irritant but it wouldn’t matter much longer I reasoned.
Before she could say anything else, the kitchen door swung open and Kareem walked in. He had a sheen of sweat on his face that probably hadn’t come from the heat and he was smiling as he began to talk, words spilling out in a rush.
“You need to come see what we found!”
“What?” I asked at the same time as Georgia did.
“Nah man, you need to come see.”
“Just tell us,” Georgia said with another eye roll.
“Tell us what,” Amos said gruffly. He stood in the doorway in just a pair of jeans, bare torso showing an impressive amount of hair, that he scratched idly.
“Ah, c’mon man, just come see.”
He was out the door before anyone could say anything and with a glance at my companions, I rose and followed him. He’d not gone far, and I caught up with him as he clambered over the fence into the neighbour’s garden.
We crossed a patio, ignoring the weak banging on the window of a zombie and climbed the next fence. Harper was crouched beside the opposite fence and looked over at our approach. He gestured for us to keep low and whispered excitedly.
“There’s people!”
There was a strong smell of wood smoke as I approached the fence and when I peered over, I saw the source. A crowd had gathered around several small fires in the enclosed yard behind some kind of business, down the hill about a hundred feet or so.
Apparently unworried about noise, they weren’t exactly keeping quiet and they didn’t have any sentries. They were all armed with some kind of weapon or at least had one close to hand.
The majority were male, with a few women spread amongst them. One of the women was crouched beside a fire, something in her hand that she dipped into a container of dark fluid. As she applied it to a man’s chest, I realised she was giving him some primitive type of tattoo.
In the far corner, four people were cowering, not far from a cluster of men who were taking it in turns with a naked woman. As we watched, they finished with her and dragged her limp body to the other captives, before pulling the only other woman from the group. She screamed and struggled but was no match for them.
A man sat apart from the others, a half-naked woman in his lap that he pawed at with one hand while using the other to hold a bottle he swigged from. Tall, impressively muscled and covered in tattoos, he had a shaven head and the face of a man who’d been in a lot of fights.
“The raiders Lou spoke of,” I said.
No one needed to speak agreement of my assessment, it was pretty clear that was all they could be.
“Well, time for us to go then,” Amos said and I glanced at him.
“I thought you wanted to join up with them.”
“Fuck that laddie. There’s too many and they’d as soon kill us as share the spoils with more people.”
“Who do you think the captives are?” Georgia asked in a dreamy voice.
She’d not taken her eyes off of the scene once. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled as she gripped the top of the wooden fence tight. Her excitement was something I could not share. I’d detested rapists and those who harmed children, even before the world broke apart. My feelings hadn’t changed.
“Probably from that place,” Kareem said with a wave towards the Fortress.
“Lou said he had some people out scavenging,” I agreed as I peered back over the fence. The urge not to risk myself warred with that little voice in the back of my mind that insisted that she would want me to help the captives.
It looked like the party was in full swing and as I watched, a group of undead wandered over to the gate that blocked the back yard from the front. A cheer rose up as one of the men pulled open the gate and the group stumbled in.
The fight was short and bloody as clubs and knives were put to good use against the zombies. Every time one died, a cheer went up and those with drinks in hand took a swig. After the last fell, one of those who had fought was apparently chosen as the winner of whatever game they were playing and the man I took to be the leader, tossed him a bottle of booze from the private stash beside him.
“A warlord in the mak
ing,” I murmured as I watched. An idea began to form and I thought that perhaps it was a fitting last gift to honour the memory of the woman who had loved me.
“Aye, well let’s be off then,” Amos said. He turned to walk back across the garden and before I’d even fully decided, I had sunk my blade into the side of his neck.
His hand went to the wound as I pulled back on the knife. It slid out with a spray of blood and he stared, wide-eyed at me as his mouth opened and closed. Shock robbing him of words. I stabbed down again and rocked back on my heels at the almost electric wave of pleasure that swept through me.
“What the fuck, man!” Kareem said. Both he and Harper stared at me with a confused sort of horror.
Georgia, on the other hand, had her Hori Hori out and held ready, blade pointed towards the two young men and I gave a slight tilt of my head to her in acknowledgement of her readiness to stand with me.
Desire filled her face and I knew I’d need to play on that for the moment. Till she’d served her purpose at least.
“Gather your gear,” I told them, my tone brooking no refusal. “We’re going to go have a talk with those raiders.”
Kareem looked from me to the body of his former leader and swallowed hard. He nodded once and gestured for Harper to follow him. I honestly didn’t care if they made a run for it as soon as they were out of my sight. They would be useful for what came next, but not essential.
“What’s your plan?” Georgia said.
She moved in close, her weapon still in hand and pressed her body against mine. Our gazes locked and I kept my face still as she allowed her hungry desire to be freely seen. Her breath was hot on my cheek as she leant in, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper.
“Fuck me, then tell me,” she said, her hands moving down to unfasten the button of my jeans, reaching in to grasp me tightly in her hand.
I exhaled a heavy breath and gently pushed her back, all too aware of how close her blade was to my precious flesh.
“Time for that later,” I said and watched the desire turn to hurt anger in a heartbeat. She didn’t like to be refused. “First, we kill.”
March of the Dead (Killing the Dead Book 11) Page 13
