by Ricky Fleet
Matt stepped in close, grabbed him by the collar and hefted him to his feet. “If you don’t keep to the schedule, I’ll throw you in the fucking gauntlet myself! Do you understand?” he screamed, making sure everyone heard the exchange, then quietly whispered. “Clarissa’s safe. She’s staying with me now. Keeping’s as dead as the fucks at the walls, so your wife won’t be getting hurt anymore.”
“You did this?” He gasped at news of the death.
Matt slapped him with a massive, open hand, pulling the blow at the last second. “I don’t want your excuses! Get the tunnel finished or Craig will peel you!” He yelled as Jason’s head rocked, then leaned in close to his ear, “Not a word to anyone. You’re the only reason we’re surviving in here and I want to keep it that way. I can’t keep your wife off the list, but I hope that knowing your baby’s safe will make it easier to bear. In time, things will change, I promise.”
For a final display of faux aggression, Matt threw him to the floor and the watching inmates cheered. Without saying another word, he walked away and left the engineer on the cold, hard ground. Attempting to stand, Jason had to grasp at the metal table for support. His legs, already weak from malnourishment, were made to feel like jelly at the revelation his daughter was now out of immediate danger. To any observer on the watchtowers, it would look like he was bawling at the dressing down and physical abuse. In truth, for the first time in months, he felt a spark of hope in the bleak nether world that constituted his life.
CHAPTER 12
“How’s the face?”
Mike gingerly pressed at the bandage holding his nose and shrugged. “It’s getting there. The painkillers help.”
“At least you’ve learned to think before you speak now. If it had been someone else I may have had to kill them, but I know Matt will leave it at the warning.”
“I guess he didn’t like being called out on it?” Mike muttered.
“Careful, little brother. These walls have ears and things can get back to people very quickly.”
Mike stomped over to the governor’s window and peered out, angry but powerless to act in any way. “So, on the one hand you peel and make the nonces run the gauntlet, and on the other you allow one of your lieutenants to keep a child in their room?”
Craig broke out in a wide grin. “Matt’s as much a kiddie fiddler as you or me. He’s trying to be clever and protect the girl and I’m happy to let him. As long as the others are still terrified of him, who gives a fuck what they think?”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because every time he gets me alone, he pushes me to increase the age of those on the Rape Night roster, or abolish it altogether.”
“Oh, I see. But you won’t get rid of it, will you?”
“I can’t. These men have nothing to occupy themselves, and without an outlet would butcher each other in under a month. You should’ve seen the uproar when we had to ration the tobacco.”
“So, what does the future hold? Have you given any thought to long term planning?”
“The main priority was to survive the winter. Our food supply will last a few more weeks but we’ll need to push out into Wick and Littlehampton soon and that’s going to be dangerous. I was hoping Rechtman would have us closer to a solution but all he keeps whining about is that he can’t tunnel under the river without the right equipment.”
Mike frowned. “It seems logical. I’m fucked if I would want to walk through it and get drowned if the thing caved in.”
“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t stop it being frustrating as hell though,” Craig grumbled.
“Why not just go over the bridge to the south? Remember the one we used to drive over to get into Brighton if we were doing a coastal pub crawl?”
“There’s only one problem with that,” Craig said slowly, “There are about sixty million festering corpses who want to eat us the second we set foot outside the walls.”
“So? Am I really both the brains and the beauty in this family?”
“Not with your face all mashed up like that,” Craig teased.
“Even with this crooked nose and two black eyes I’m prettier than you, brother.”
“Ok, enough flirting. What do you have in mind?”
“You can’t tunnel under the river, but what’s to stop you tunnelling right up to the bridge itself?”
“Nothing. But again, I remind you of the sixty million mobile corpses who want to bite our nuts off.”
“Forget them,” Mike spat, “What is it you said about them losing interest?”
“The ones near the walls who follow us to the tunnels always end up coming back after a while, but I don’t see how that will help when we are trying to bring back food and goods.”
“Can I assume that somewhere in this prison you have a few guys who are handy with a trowel?”
“You mean builders?”
Mike nodded.
“Of course.”
“And you have a structural engineer available twenty-four-seven?”
“You’re killing me here. What’s your point?”
“Secure the bridge completely on both sides; it’s only two lane blacktop.”
“And how do you suggest we do that while under attack?” Craig posed.
A knock at the door interrupted the discussion and both Hombre and Matt entered the office. The Scotsman eyed Mike warily and Craig ordered them both to apologise and get over it. An uneasy handshake was exchanged alongside a few mumbled words and the meeting continued after Mike briefly explained his idea. The two right hand men were even less enthused than their boss.
“Now listen! We need to get the engineer to pop up right in the middle of the road on our side as the bridge begins. There’s a certain amount of tree cover on the approach road which will give us some concealment. Hell, you could probably fell some of them and make a semi decent obstacle to buy us more time. Then, when the coast is clear, we pop up and get the builders to lay as much in the way of fortification as possible before we’re forced back into the tunnel by the zombies. We rig some kind of alarm system back at the prison and use it to lure them back to the walls. Rinse and repeat.”
“It could bring even more in if we start ringing the dinner bell,” said Hombre.
“These walls could hold a hundred thousand at bay, probably more,” Matt replied.
“Exactly! From what Hombre tells me, the rail depot has enough material to cocoon both sides of the bridge and as soon as it’s sealed off you can just start digging another tunnel on the eastern road. I’d say allowing for a half moon shaped wall for extra strength, you’d need about fifty to sixty feet of concrete blockwork. We can use sections of steel rail to reinforce it as well if we can find some acetylene torches to cut and weld it.”
Hombre held up a cautionary finger. “There’s one problem. How the fuck do we get the stuff from the rail yard back here? The last effort was a disaster and I’m still gutted about the pineapple chunks.”
“Pineapple?” Mike asked and Craig waved the question away unanswered.
“Why go over land?”
They all turned and stared at Matt who had begun to see the merits in the plan. Beckoning them to join him at the window he pointed to the River Arun flowing merrily by.
“You want to take a swim with concrete blocks and shit loads of building supplies?” Craig teased light heartedly.
“No. Boats.”
“I’m afraid to say we’re all out.”
“Then let me take some men and we go south towards the coast until we find some.”
“You think you can sail between the depot and the bridge?”
“No. It’ll need to be motorboats and I’ll need your help,” Matt said, gesturing to Hombre.
“I’ve never been on a boat in my life, you know that. I navigate the open roads to pillage and plunder.”
“Ok, Blackbeard,” Craig chuckled.
“I don’t want to drown you. I need you to bring a petrol tanker back for us to refuel.”
“Well why didn�
��t you say so? I’ll just pop across the road and get one while you collect your armada of rubber dinghies.”
“Stop being a pussy. We’re bound to find one if we send out scouting parties.”
“Fuck it, why not. If you’re crazy enough to risk your ass loading and unloading boats, the least I can do is keep the tanks topped up.”
“Good man,” Craig exclaimed.
“We need to get a full requisition list from Rechtman for the tunnel first. It’s only a short run from the rear gates of the prison where you parked that truck to the edge of the riverbank. We’ll need to kill the few hundred who were waiting and at the same time keep the largest group occupied at the front walls.”
“They didn’t behave too well the last time we tried it,” Hombre warned.
“It’s a bit different,” Mike explained, remembering the hospital, “They don’t herd well in great numbers as they just get bored and filter back to whatever had their attention. As long as we keep a low profile while we move the goods inside and the guards stay visible, they should be quite content to stay where they are.”
“Plus, we can make plenty of noise to mask the sounds of the engines,” Craig added.
“What if I can’t find a tanker?”
“Then we start siphoning every car in the district,” Craig shrugged.
“You always did like sucking on the hose, brother,” Mike teased, but Matt and Hombre just glowered.
“Give him a fucking break, you two! It was a joke!” Craig snapped.
A polite rap on the door broke the simmering tension and one of the guards peeked inside. “Boss, Pesci’s back.”
“Good, let him in.”
Walking through the door, the men wrinkled their nose at his stench.
“Fuck me, Pesci. Have you not washed yet?” Hombre hissed, covering his nose.
The man narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Why would I? Craig told me to come straight back with my report.”
“And?” He leaned across the desk, yearning for the good news.
“They’re all there.”
A dreadful grin spread across Craig’s face as he looked at each man in turn. “It appears I need to find a worse punishment than peeling for our friends in the castle. Pesci, get yourself washed, fed, and rested, I’ve got another task for you.”
CHAPTER 13
“Stephen, thanks for joining us. Come and sit down,” Kurt said.
A fire crackled in the hearth of the small room, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the waiting group. On the large desk were differing ages of castle layouts charting the various adaptations and changes that had occurred over the past millennium since its original construction. Alina had made notes on a jotter detailing her own knowledge of the hidden nooks and crannies of the ancient fortress, but they were rudimentary at best. They all knew the greatest fount of information was locked away inside the curator’s mind.
“Will you be ok?” Patricia asked from the doorway.
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll go and get a coffee while you chat. Back soon, sweetie.”
She closed the door, sealing them in the warmth and Kurt offered Stephen a chair.
“I really don’t need to be chaperoned at all times you know?”
“It’s just a precaution until I’m satisfied you’re really with us. I think you’ll agree it’s a small price to pay for being allowed to stay?” Kurt said, gauging his expression for any tells.
“Fine.”
“Good. Now, Alina has been kind enough to show us a couple of the secrets of the castle including the sally port which drops down from the north-eastern wall. We can use that to get out and plot a safe route to the supermarket if the need arises. What I need to know from you is simple. Are there any other tunnels or tricks which we can use to our advantage?”
“What if I told you there weren’t any more secret passageways?”
Kurt narrowed his eyes, “Then I’d be a little upset, because we both know that would be a lie.”
“How would you know it was a lie? Are you part of the original construction or architectural team? My goodness, you’ve aged well.”
Kurt ground his teeth and thought of DB’s offer to extract the information, by force if necessary. It was the last thing he wanted to countenance, but if the obstinate man left him with no alternatives then pain would be their only option. Trying a different approach, he softened. “Stephen, I know we’ll never see eye to eye, but my only concern is keeping everyone inside this castle safe, including yourself. You love this place, that much is obvious, and I can’t blame you. I’m sorry that you see us as uninvited interlopers, but I want to protect this magnificent structure too. I want to keep it for the living, not as a shelter for the abominations outside to infest.”
“The way you people treat this place it’s like an infestation anyway.”
“Explain,” demanded Kurt with a scowl.
“The place is filthy. I’ve seen people urinating in the hallways. Litter is left where it’s dropped and plates of half eaten food have been left to rot.”
Kurt had to reluctantly agree with the way certain individuals were not pulling their weight and it must have been distressing for Stephen to see his life’s work abused in such a way. “That’ll change, you have my word. I’ll organise a cleaning team who’ll keep this place immaculate, just like it was before. And there certainly won’t be any more instances of people doing their business in anything other than a toilet. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like a tall order when you can’t even get everyone to work together to defend the castle. I find it hard to believe that Jasmine and her merry band of slobs would be willing to follow your orders and clean up after themselves.”
“Perhaps,” Kurt admitted. “I think I may need to be a bit more… persuasive, where they’re concerned. Surely, it’s worth a shot, though?”
“I think you put too much faith in your fellow human beings. From what I’ve seen, they will just ignore you and carry on regardless.”
“That’s my problem. Can we at least give it a try? I really do need your expertise if we’re going to secure enough supplies to see us through until spring.”
“If I help you, will you call off your watchdog?”
“Be careful with the insults, Stephen. Patricia helping us secure the castle is one of the reasons you may not be starving to death.”
Ignoring the jibe, Stephen raised an eyebrow. It was clear this was to be his price for cooperation.
“Ok, I’ll let you go about your business unhindered. Do we have a deal?”
“We do. Apart from the usual defensive additions which were designed for human sieges, not undead ones, there are three secret tunnels which may prove useful. I have no idea if any of them are still in one piece, but I can show you where they are if you’d wish?”
“I’d very much appreciate that,” Kurt replied.
Stephen stood up and dusted imaginary fluff from his clothes, “Let’s be to it then, I don’t have all day.”
Alina glanced at Kurt and neither could contain the buzz of excitement they felt at the coming revelations. As the trio left the small study, Patricia returned and started to follow.
“Change of plans. Stephen’s helping us and for that he wants to be left in peace,” Kurt whispered.
“Is that a good idea?”
“Not really,” he admitted. “Go and relax for a while. We’ll be with him the whole time anyway.”
“Ok, sweetheart,” she replied and headed back to the main hall.
Stephen was marching away like a drill sergeant, hands clasped firmly behind his back. “The first is in the crypts.”
“Really? We didn’t see anything.”
“It wouldn’t be a very good secret tunnel if you did, would it?”
“Touché.”
“You may need your dark-skinned friend to help us,” Stephen explained.
“Would you like me to fetch him?” Alina offered.
“
Yes please, love. Thanks,” Kurt replied, then turned to Stephen, “His name is DB. I don’t think he would appreciate being called the ‘dark skinned friend’.”
“Duly noted.”
Five minutes later, they had exposed the steps, descended into the tomb, and were all stood around the deepest sarcophagus.
“This is going to be difficult. I shouldn’t imagine it has moved for centuries.”
Stephen and Kurt took the head of the stone lid and DB clasped the foot. With a rocking motion and much grunting, they broke the seal free and lifted it up a few inches. Twisting the massive slab, they laid it sideways on the top of the tomb. Peeking inside, they could see a set of steps leading down into darkness.
“If this passageway is still intact, it will take you to the accompanying crypt within the Priory of Saint Nicholas Arundel where great religious leaders have been laid to rest.”
“That’s really close to the cathedral! It would make a rescue so much safer,” Alina said.
“We’ll take a look later. Until then we need to make sure nothing comes crawling out of this thing,” Kurt replied and they muscled the stone back into place.
“The second is in the Earl’s bedroom, or what we would call the master bedroom today,” Stephen explained and led them through the maze of hallways and up flights of stairs.
As they took in the opulence of the room, it dawned on Kurt how implausible a tunnel could be on the second floor of the building. Alina was expressing similar confusion as she stared around the windowed bedroom.
Stephen chuckled at their confusion. “I see you doubt me. All shall be revealed, I promise.”
Curling a finger to follow, he led them over to the fireplace. Long dead ashes had crumbled on the hearth and the fire blackened stone revealed no clue as to what the curator was so fascinated with. Dropping to his knees, he pointed up the wide chimney. Kurt leaned in and looked upwards but could only see the faint daylight weakly illuminating the first bend which penetrated the top of the stack.
“I don’t follow.”
“Look in the stonework as it rises,” Stephen said mysteriously.
Shining the torch in a rising circular motion, he could only see the poor construction. “I see missing stones. I’d call the builders back and give them a bollocking.”
