by Ricky Fleet
“I have killed hundreds of the zombies, and enough of the living to haunt my dreams until the day I die. My dad is lying dead on the walls of this fucking place. If you think you have what it takes to kick me out, give it your best shot,” Kurt growled, holding the green coated head of the hammer to the man’s throat.
“But the castle is owned by the Duke and Duchess, you can’t be here,” he protested in spite of the danger.
Kurt’s lips smiled but his eyes were ice, “I think you will find it belongs to us now. While you have been hiding, we have travelled from Emsworth through this undead wasteland. When your Duke and Duchess come home, they can fight their way through a thousand decaying carnivores and I will consider sharing it.”
Kurt released him and the man blustered back into the castle, “You haven’t heard the last of this!”
Kurt needed a release that would prevent him killing the obnoxious little man, and he saw the fallen glasses. With a feeling of satisfaction, he ground the lenses beneath his boot heel and they crunched into pieces.
“You are nothing more than a common ruffian!” squealed the man who had returned to reclaim the spectacles. “Scum like you should have been the first to die.”
“Now you’ve done it,” cautioned Louise who stepped out of Kurt’s way.
“Please, allow me,” Denise said and jabbed the man in the throat. It was a snappy punch with enough power to incapacitate, but not enough to crush the trachea and kill him. Eyes bugging, he fell to the floor, hacking and coughing through his damaged airway.
“Denise just saved your life,” Kurt growled and picked up the broken and twisted frames, before placing them on his reddened face, “Get out of my sight, you rancid little prick, or I will end you.”
Another man hurried forward to help, and they retreated into the darkness. Some of the group inside were grinning at the rough justice and Kurt couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like to be trapped with him. A change of leadership was long overdue.
A young girl came running from the doorway, “Miss. Lunsford wanted me to tell you that the noise has attracted more of those things, she can see them in the distance,” she detailed breathlessly, then smiled at Sam. “I’m glad you made it, I’m Holly.”
“There’s no time to waste then. Thanks, Holly,” said Jonesy.
“Yeah. Thanks, Holly,” said Sam, cheeks flushing.
“Come on, Casanova,” chuckled DB.
“Who’s Miss. Lunsford?” Kurt asked Denise.
“Stephanie is their teacher,” Denise replied, “She is a lover of history and archery. The longbows are still in good working order from all the reenactments that are held here apparently.”
The narrowboat was cleared without incident and they said a farewell to the sturdy vessel. If circumstances allowed they would try and maintain it but with the dead swarming, it was unlikely. Medicines, weapons, ammunition, food, and farming equipment were brought into the castle. As they had been informed, hundreds more zombies were making their way across the fields, attracted by the gunfire and explosions. Their sanctuary would render them harmless and Kurt allowed himself a melancholy smile; they had made it.
“Baby, we need to get inside now,” Sarah said, leading him away the boat.
Driving through the gateway, Peter jumped out and locked the gates before Kurt backed the Jeep against them. They walked out into the light and Kurt looked around at the death, then found himself looking at the slumped body of John in the distance.
“We will give him a proper ceremony tomorrow, I promise,” Gloria offered.
A group of young people came running up from the entrance, plucking the arrows from the ground and placing them in baskets. The girl smiled at Sam again and Braiden elbowed him in the ribs playfully.
“Who’s your girlfriend?” he teased.
“Shut up,” Sam protested, blushing again.
“Sorry, mate. She’s a fine one for sure, keep an eye out and see if she has a pretty friend.” Braiden winked and laughed, then fell silent as the recent loss reasserted itself.
“Dad, can we go and help, there are a lot of arrows,” Sam asked, eager to have any activity to take his mind off the death of his grandfather.
“Ok, but be careful. Watch for movement and warn them to do the same, they are running around thinking the zombies are guaranteed to be dead,” Kurt pointed out and the boys rushed off to be with kids their own age.
“Boys, we will meet you inside,” Sarah shouted and they both waved an acknowledgement.
“We can always recharge our batteries and take the Keep tomorrow if you want,” Jonesy offered Kurt, but he shook his head.
“I won’t sleep until that metal barrier is in place.”
“You won’t be any use to us if your minds elsewhere,” DB added, his huge hand rubbing Kurt’s back in support.
“I know what you are saying, guys, but I can lock it down. After this I will need some time to myself to grieve, but right now I need to fight,” he said with conviction and the soldiers understood the feeling all too well.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The fighters gathered their wits in one of the reception rooms. The high ceilings were molded with beautiful plaster diamonds, and the walls were adorned with carved mahogany paneling and bookshelves. The first edition hardbacks were priceless and the glass frontages were firmly locked to keep the nosy interlopers at bay. An old fireplace with soot streaked stone lay set back from a stunningly patterned iron mantel, lions roaring fiercely with paws raised.
“How many of you are there?” asked Kurt as he reclined on the comfortable sofa, staring at the ceiling. The patterns calmed him as he traced their intricate design.
“About fifty, roughly half and half of staff and public. I was just visiting with my friend Patricia Statham when the shit hit the fan,” Denise answered and a dark haired lady from across the room waved a greeting.
“How have you survived?” DB asked, “I mean I know you have barricaded yourself in here, but that’s a lot of food and water.”
“There were a ton of food supplies when we took cover. The delivery driver had only just left according to the chef so the larders are full. Not that it stops that righteous asshole Mr. Vincent from complaining every time we have a meal,” Denise replied, scowling at the doorway which led to his office.
“Mr. Vincent?” Kurt wondered, “My new best friend?”
“You got it, babes,” laughed Patricia as she joined them, “He can go to hell if he thinks he is taking my glasses to replace his though.”
“I think Denise would probably just throat punch him again,” Sarah smiled.
“It felt so good,” she admitted, mimicking the jab again.
“Where do you sleep?” Gloria asked.
“There is an old storeroom on the ground floor,” Patricia explained, “They cleared some space and we use the old mattresses. I swear we had to kick the rats out before we could move in.”
“Are there no bedrooms in this wing then?” Kurt asked, looking around the room at the tired faces.
“Yeah, but we aren’t allowed in them. Mr. Vincent has them all locked and the keys hidden,” Denise said.
“I swear I’m going to toss that vile little cunt from the walls,” Kurt growled.
“Kurt, language!” Sarah gasped, “There are ladies present.”
“I ain’t no lady,” Denise laughed, “I can swear with the best of them. I was a Buffalo police officer before retiring.”
“Sorry,” sighed Kurt, “Sarah’s right. It’s been a tough day, please accept my apologies.”
“None needed, honey,” Patricia said, “Y’all have been through the mill today.”
“Did I hear you say you were in the police department?” asked Jonesy and Denise nodded.
“So you are proficient with firearms?” DB added.
“We both are,” Patricia acknowledged.
“That will make the demonstrations so much easier when it comes to teaching the rest of the fo
lks about maintenance and shooting,” DB grinned.
“That’s if you don’t mind helping us?” Jonesy asked.
“Of course not, sweetie,” she clapped her hands in excitement, “I have been bored to tears just sitting here. I want to come with you when you retake the main Keep too.”
“The more guns the merrier,” Kurt agreed, “But I was thinking about trying to retake it as quietly as possible.”
“The suppressors are finished, mate, we don’t have any spares,” DB explained.
“I wasn’t thinking about guns,” he said cryptically, “Where is the teacher, Miss. Lunsford?”
“I think I saw her putting the last of the arrows and bows back into storage. Why?” Patricia wondered.
“If what the guides say is true, which I don’t doubt as Braiden has confirmed it too, is that there are three long corridors until the portcullis room. If we go out all guns blazing, then the whole town could come for a visit,” Kurt explained.
“And the alternative is?” Gloria wondered.
“We get the students to come with us armed with the bows and arrows and line up, one row kneeling and one behind standing. We know they have skills and if they can take out the zombies quietly, we can drop the portcullis without drawing in any more to deal with.”
“And as soon as that gate is in place, we can go all shock and awe on their asses,” whooped Denise.
“Exactly,” Kurt slammed his palm down on the arm of the chair.
“Holly?” Sarah called as the young girl returned with Sam and Braiden, their recovery mission over.
“Yes, Miss?” she answered, walking over.
“Call me Sarah. Now don’t feel under any pressure or obligation, but Kurt wanted to ask you a question,” she said and Kurt stood up to face her.
“How confident do you feel with those bows, Holly?”
“Pretty good I guess, why?” she asked cautiously.
“And the rest of the class?”
“We have all been practicing, even though that awful Mr. Vincent complains every time we use the equipment,” Holly replied.
“You have heard we plan to take the Keep today, and by dropping the portcullis we will be totally sealed in and safe from the zombies,” Kurt started to explain, “I would like you and some of your class to cover us in the hallways so we can destroy them in silence.”
“I’m not sure,” she sounded afraid, “Miss. Lunsford won’t like it and it won’t be like shooting them from up high where we were safe.”
“I understand, sweetheart, it was only an idea.” Kurt smiled and sat back down.
“I’m not saying I won’t do it,” she rushed forward after looking at Sam, “Will you all be there to protect us?”
“Absolutely,” Kurt responded, “We will be between you and the dead, but to the side obviously. We wouldn’t want to become pin cushions.”
Holly giggled, “So we won’t really be in any danger?”
“Not if I am there as well,” said Sam.
“None at all. DB, Jonesy, and Denise will be fully armed with the guns,” Kurt pointed out.
“Don’t forget me,” called out Patricia.
“And Patricia,” Kurt smiled, “If it looks at all like the plan won’t work, you will fall back and we protect you with bullets and axes.”
“Don’t forget deadeye with his slingshot,” Braiden added, pointing at Sam.
“Are you really that good with it?” Holly sounded impressed.
“Better,” confirmed Braiden as Sam started to blush again.
“Would you mind running off and finding the rest of your class and Miss. Lunsford? See if they are prepared to risk it and then bring them back if they are,” Kurt said and the girl hurried away.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea taking the children with us?” asked Jodi.
“Possibly not, but you saw the faces of the people when we arrived, they were terrified. If the kids can take the lead and have a hand in the fighting, we may be able to get the rest of them on board. I’d rather have fifty seasoned fighters than just the ten of us,” Kurt’s logic was undeniable.
“Ladies, are you familiar with the Glock Seventeen?” DB handed over the two pistols for perusal.
“I would be happier with my trusty three-fifty-seven Smith and Wesson, but this will do,” said Denise, snapping the magazine home and chambering a round.
Holly came running back into the room smiling, “They all want to help, but Miss. Lunsford says she has to come too.”
“Thank you, Holly,” came a new voice from the hallway and a lady with short, red hair and pink framed glasses walked in.
“Miss. Lunsford, I presume?” Kurt said, offering his hand which she shook with a firm grip.
“Yes, you must be Kurt,” she replied with a warm smile.
“I wanted to thank you for saving us earlier, it was a brave thing to do.”
“You are most welcome, I’m just sorry we couldn’t save all of you,” she said with a look of sorrow.
“Dad will be watching us, happy that we made it I’m sure,” he answered, emotions bubbling below the surface until he shook himself.
“You need our help again?” she asked, seeing his discomfort and changing the subject.
“Did Holly explain what I would like to do?”
“Yes, and as long as I go, I think it is probably the best way to secure the castle. I have been training them as much as possible in case we ever took the chance, but we lacked the firepower that you bring,” Stephanie told them.
Ten minutes later the students were ready. Peter had offered to be the arrow carrier as well as hand to hand back up with his machete. DB, Jonesy, Denise, and Patricia were locked and loaded and the rest of Kurt’s group was tooled up with axes, machetes and a couple of swords. The long shanked blades were not the cheaply produced store bought imitations, carrying the nicks and dents of ancient battles embedded in the time worn steel.
“The most important thing to remember is don’t panic,” Jonesy explained to the rapt youngsters, “Take your time, pick your target carefully. If any get too close, the melee fighters will take them down. If it looks like there may be too many, we retreat under our covering fire.” He indicated DB, Patricia, and Denise.
“Brother, as soon as we get through that door we could use the light machine guns as a fallback,” DB added as the others gathered behind the group.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Jonesy agreed, “Has anyone here served in the military?”
One of the elderly groundskeepers stepped forward, “I was in the Army from sixty-two to seventy-eight.”
“Do you feel confident enough to cover the doorway with one of the LMG’s?” DB asked.
He turned the gun over and looked at the feeding mechanism and trigger, “I think I can do that.”
“Good man,” Jonesy said, “The rest of you, could we have some volunteers to carry these tables through to place the guns on.”
Several people stepped forward, eager to help in any way that didn’t involve actually fighting the undead. Even Mr. Vincent was lurking in the shadows and Gloria had been instructed to ensure he didn’t try to sabotage the attempt.
The students nocked their arrows and kept the bows lowered, sweating in fear at the door as the barricade was removed. No moans or thuds could be heard which might mean the hallway would be deserted, but they wouldn’t take any chances. Twisting the heavy metal key, the lock disengaged and the door was pulled open, revealing the long expanse. The nearest zombie was twenty feet away and heard the creaking hinges. It turned and the students shrank back, the pitted and festering visage ghastly in the morning light.
“Just like you trained, straight lines are your friend,” Sam stated and stepped forward. The slingshot pinged and one of the last of his bearings ripped cleanly through the skull, staining the expensive rug.
Sam’s bravery served to embolden them; if he could do it, so could they and they raised their bows. The arrows whistled down the corrido
r, more lethal at range than the rounded balls. The first volley missed totally, mistimed releases and shaky hands throwing the shots off. Braiden and Sam went between them, providing encouragement and advice about controlling their fear. The second volley was more precise and the arrows stuck out from the bodies of the dead, one even falling from a shaft through the eye.
“Way to go,” Sam whispered quietly, patting them all on the back.
Peter leaned in and they each took a fresh arrow, the protection of the soldiers and the fearsome looking newcomers filling them with more confidence.
“Again,” Braiden ordered and Kurt couldn’t help but smile at the maturity he was showing. Jonesy winked and looked every inch like a proud father.
More arrows whined and the first section of the castle corridor was cleared. Members of the rear guard made up of the castle staff lifted two tables through and placed them to the sides, before lifting the machine guns into place. The Army veteran took up position and gave a brisk salute to the others as they moved down the poorly lit hall. Dust motes drifted in the beams of weak sunlight, disturbed by the deadly activity.
“Are those doors locked?” DB asked from their fortified position, indicating the archways which gave access to various function rooms, dining rooms and activity suites for the paying public.
“We didn’t have time,” explained Denise.
“Ok, one at a time,” Kurt moved forward and cautiously tapped the hammer on the stonework, luring any hidden threat out and taking cover to avoid the missiles. A few more undead joined the fray and were laid low by the increasing skill of the archers.
“We move down the corridor one doorway at a time. Sarah, would you mind taking the keys and locking the rooms behind us so we don’t have any nasty surprises?” Kurt asked and she took the large bunch, holding them tightly to prevent any unnecessary jangling.
The group moved slowly, leaving nothing to chance and neared the first corner to the next hallway. Sarah sealed the rooms, but not before marveling at the antiques, paintings and general beauty of the decor. In the back of her mind she knew that it was a sign of a turning point in their fortunes, the castle would be their sanctuary while decisions were made on the next steps of survival.
