Hellspawn (Book 4): Hellspawn Requiem

by Ricky Fleet

  Stepping into the wing itself, Mike could see he was correct. The viewing platform was the width of the cellblock and fifteen feet deep, with chairs neatly arranged and cans of beer chilling in a bucket. Welders had been hard at work and, where the walkway stretched off into the distance, a secure barrier had been erected with more bars. A ladder was bolted to the frame which struck Mike as odd and Craig caught the look.

  “Zombies can’t climb ladders, it’s for the others.”

  “Others?” Mike wondered as he took a seat to the right of his brother overlooking the whole area.

  “You’ll see. Matt, Hombre, can you sound the horns?”

  “You got it, boss,” replied the Scotsman and Hombre nodded.

  They stepped into a redundant cell to each side and picked up a can which Mike couldn’t make out. Leaning out of the window, they pressed the tops and an ear-splitting din erupted from the nozzles.

  “Air horns,” Craig shouted to be heard.

  Mike rolled his eyes as if to say ‘no shit’. “What are they for?”

  “To let the troops know the show’s about to begin,” Craig replied with an evil glint in his eye.

  “Isn’t it dangerous having those things in here with us?” Mike aired his misgivings, “What the hell were you thinking.”

  “Mike, for fuck sake, sit down and have a beer.” Craig tossed him a wet can, “You are safe in here, so stop worrying.”

  “Yeah, Mike,” Debbie parroted, fawning over Craig, “Stop being a pussy and worrying so much, you’re such a buzzkill.”

  Craig’s eyes stilled Mike from exploding and he sat down in a huff. Debbie didn’t see the glance and instead mistakenly thought it was a sign she was now the dominant one in the relationship.

  We’ll see who’s laughing later, you fucking whore, Mike thought, scowling at her.

  “Champagne, just for you, m’lady,” Craig said, offering her a fluted glass.

  “You shouldn’t have,” Debbie gushed, sipping at the bubbling luxury.

  “At least your brother knows how to treat a lady,” Debbie mocked, pulling a childish face at Mike.

  Grinding his teeth so hard it hurt, he looked away and tried to ignore her, concentrating on the delicious beer. Thankfully, JR returned and broke the tension with news that everything was in place. Mike could hear the growing clamour as hundreds of convicts jostled for position on the scaffolding outside. Threats were issued and anyone not moving out of the way of the wing bosses were either beaten or tossed from the walls. The fall wasn’t enough to kill, but a few broken limbs would need to be set and cast by the doctor before the night was done.

  “Shall I?” JR asked Craig.

  “Be my guest,” he replied with a nod.

  Stepping to the railing, JR placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The crowd fell silent at the windows and he smiled at those he could see. Those on the lower levels were taunting the zombies through the small, barred windows.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, this is what you’ve all been waiting for!”

  More cheers rang out and quickly fell silent again.

  “In honour of Craig’s brother making it safely to our sanctuary, I have laid on something extra special. But first, I want you to all raise your drinks and toast with me.”

  Bottles of spirits and cans of cider and beer were lifted high by those on the scaffolding.

  “To Craig Arater, who feeds us, entertains us, keeps us safe, and has shown what we can achieve when we all work together. We are forever in your debt.”

  Craig’s name rang out from every corner of the prison and he waved away their adulation.

  “Without further ado, I bring you tonight’s epic battle for survival. Instead of just one, we have four willing participants!”

  JR paused for the inevitable hysterics at the word ‘willing’ and turned to grin at Mike who was still totally perplexed.

  “They have all been equipped with the best riot gear Her Majesties’ correction officers have to offer, including shields. Can our valiant heroes conquer the gauntlet and secure their freedom? Will they go for the rush, or try and find weapons to fight their way through? Only time will tell.”

  A chorus of boos erupted at the possibility anyone could escape the death-trap. Only one had thus far and the prisoners nearly killed him for having the audacity to not die screaming in the zombie infested block. He had lain in a coma until Craig had found a better use for him.

  “Worry not, my friends. To balance the game, we have more than doubled the number of zombies they must face, as well as a few other surprises.”

  Deafening applause echoed from the walls in the drab concrete building.

  “Let the games begin!”

  ****

  Connor looked out from beneath the visor of the heavy helmet. Three other men were looking around inside the cage with terror on their faces. He didn’t belong here, he was a man of influence and power before the world had fallen apart.

  “I am a town councillor and I demand you release me at once!” he barked at the prisoners who had pushed him inside.

  “I’m very sorry, your highness, let me get that gate for you,” replied the guard, reaching for his keys.

  “That’s more like it. A little respect for one’s betters is something to be commended,” he said, removing the helmet and turning to the other three, “Best of luck, I’m sure you will prevail.”

  Opening the gate, the guard stepped aside. Connor smiled and stepped through, straight into a calloused hand which cracked across his cheek, sending him dazed to the floor.

  “How dare you?” he blustered, as they relocked the gate in fits of laughter.

  “Just be happy I only slapped you,” growled the guard, “I’d have fed you and all your paedophile mates to the zombies months ago.”

  “I’ll have you know I am not a paedophile, I have never laid my hands on a child.” Connor was furious with the man and banged on the bars with each word.

  “I suppose all those pictures and videos on your laptop were fake then?” he taunted.

  “They were put on there by my political rivals,” declared Connor and the prisoners shook their head in disgust.

  “And I suppose they stole all of your credit card information to go on the pay per view sites which had kids being molested as well?”

  “Of course,” he replied haughtily, “I was too good at my job and they hated that.”

  “Take this,” said another guard, passing a single key through the bars.

  “I suppose I’m to let myself out and be attacked by that hooligan again?”

  Shaking his head, the guard laughed, “No you filthy bastard, it’s for that door.” He pointed to the barrier between the captives and the zombie gauntlet.

  “If you think I’m opening that then you’re more of an imbecile than I thought,” snorted Connor.

  The guard ignored the slight and smiled, “I’ve been told you have sixty seconds to discuss any strategy, then anyone who doesn’t get their ass through that door is removed for peeling. Got it?”

  “This is preposterous! I demand to see Mr. Arater right now,” Connor shouted.

  “Forty-five.”

  “You can’t make us do this, it’s barbaric.” Connor started to whine as the other three accepted their fate and talked about banding together for protection.

  “Thirty.”

  “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” Connor shrieked.

  The guard bent double with laughter. “Did the prick really just say that?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Give us the key you wanker,” demanded one of the three molesters, “Some chance is better than getting flayed alive!”

  “But… but…”

  “Three, two, one. Open it now.”

  “I can pay you,” Connor offered weakly as the inner door swung wide.

  “You’re going to pay, that’s for sure. A plump little nonce like you will make a fine meal for our friends, now get the fuck inside or
we take you to the board!”

  Torn between the two options, he hesitated until they started to unlock the outer gate. The three others had already rushed inside, and with a squeal, Connor dodged the reaching hands of his captors. Flailing his arms, he managed to keep his feet after skidding on a yellow pool he’d unconsciously left on the floor. Turning back to the door, the guard spat in his face and slammed it shut, sealing them inside with the dead.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he muttered repeatedly, wiping the drool away and slipping the helmet back on.

  The sounds of groaning and shuffling were drowned out by the barracking from the cell windows. The inmates wanted blood, death and screams, and the hungry zombies were only too eager to provide. Reaching the first cell, two of the men waited outside while the third searched for a hidden weapon. It made the events more sporting if the condemned could be given at least a slim chance.

  “Are you gonna help us or just die like the coward you are?” yelled one of the men.

  “I…” Connor was paralyzed and owed his life to the fact the zombies were intent upon the others.

  A solitary male cadaver approached, mouth gaping wide and arms raised. Connor screwed his eyes shut and willed the monster to disappear. He would wake up safe and sound in his bed, snuggled with the wife who hadn’t abandoned him when she discovered the hidden files on his computer.

  “Nothing!”

  “Fucking hell! Hold them off!”

  At the sound of a loud thud, Connor opened one eye and the zombie was gone. One of the men raised his shield and brought the edge down into the face of the creature squirming at his feet. Skull splitting apart, the brains oozed out across the floor.

  “That’s the only time I’m helping, now are you with us or not?” he demanded.

  “I’m… I’m with you,” Connor whispered and raised his own shield. It felt like it weighed two hundred pounds, but that was only his terror addled perception.

  “Come on, we need to move or they’ll overwhelm us!”

  Using the shields as battering rams, they hammered at the zombies and sent them reeling. Connor joined them and formed the last part of the circle as they reached the second cell.

  “Hold them here, I’ll be ten seconds.”

  “I’m Tad by the way,” explained the man who had saved him.

  “Connor.”

  “I know.”

  A small group approached and with a roar of fear the three men lunged forward, pushing them away. It was a delaying tactic at most, but at least they had something. Everyone else who had been forced through had been totally naked for added humiliation.

  “Nothing in here, move!”

  As one, they shuffled along to the next cell and guarded the door again. The zombies had regained their footing and were joined by two more from further down the block.

  “We need to kill some or they’ll surround us,” shouted Tad and they slammed their shields into the approaching corpses.

  Leaping out of the circle he crushed three more heads before he had to retreat from the grasping arms.

  “They’ve blocked the first two staircases!”

  At least twenty zombies had been tied to the railings preventing any means of upward passage. Their only option was to get to the end of the wing before climbing to the next floor.

  “Bastards!” shouted Tad and looked up to see Craig peering down. He gave them a cheerful thumbs up and swigged from his can of beer.

  “Can’t make it too easy for you, can we?” he called down and was joined by a woman who clapped excitedly.

  Knowing it would be fatal to insult him directly, they looked away as the scavenger returned with a long kitchen knife from the cell.

  “Good work, Phil!”

  “I want to try something,” Phil said through ragged, fearful breaths. “Hold the shields steady, don’t knock them over yet.”

  The closest zombies stumbled into the polycarbonate shields and tried to push through. Phil leaned over and stabbed downwards but the awkward angle just peeled the side of its head cleanly from the bone.

  “Skulls are solid, try and go for their eyes,” Connor urged, clarity finally asserting itself that he was in a fight for his life.

  Parting the shields, Phil drove the knife through the gap and into the zombie’s cheek. Drawing it back he stabbed forward again, trying to still the tremors which thwarted his aim. This time it sank through the orb and plunged into the brain itself, killing the creature.

  “Good work, but it takes too much time to kill them that way. I say we make a run for the end before they can group up!” Tad shouted and they pushed the remaining zombies away again.

  Dodging between the insatiable monsters, they raced headlong down the cellblock, using the shields and shoulder barging any undead in their way. Nearing the stairs, Phil slammed face first into the floor, sending his helmet flying off. Connor didn’t have time to register what was happening before his ankles caught on the thin cord and he piled onto the other three.

  “What the fuck?” Tad croaked, trying to help Phil to his feet.

  “Oops, sorry about that! You need to watch your step!” Craig called down, yanking on the other end, making it dance before them.

  Connor could now see the two anchors in the wall and the rising cord which had tripped them.

  “Help me lift him, he’s out cold!” Tad cried, desperately trying to drag the unconscious man towards the stairs.

  “We don’t have time, leave him or we all die!”

  “He will slow them down for us,” Connor added eagerly, now in full self-preservation mode.

  “You mean while they eat him!” Tad retorted with disgust.

  “Sometimes people must be sacrificed for the greater good,” Connor called back as he climbed the stairs.

  “Hear, hear,” shouted Craig, “Isn’t that what I’ve always told you?”

  Seeing the futility, Tad dropped the arm and pushed two undead out of the way. Zombies fell on the prone form and started to tear at the protective clothing while others started to eat the parts that were exposed.

  Ear piercing screams overshadowed the cheers from outside as Phil awoke. His nose and cheek were already missing when a female corpse seemed to kiss him, then rose with his torn lips hanging from her mouth. Blood filled his throat and the agonised cries became gurgles as he was slowly devoured.

  “You sick bastards!” Tad yelled at the faces which laughed and mocked from the windows.

  “Now it gets interesting!” Craig yelled from the viewing area.

  The first floor consisted of the two thin walkways separated by the strong netting, which gave no room to manoeuvre. They would be fighting for every inch of progress to double back to the other end of the wing.

  “Use your shields!” Tad ordered as the first zombie stumbled from a cell.

  They all pressed it against the railing and with a cry of terror, they toppled it onto the netting where it joined five more writhing undead.

  “We need to move faster or they’ll trap us here,” Connor barked and they pushed forward.

  “Shall we try for more weapons?”

  “There’s no point.” Tad shook his head, “Every second we waste trying to find one gives them a chance to box us in.”

  Instead of using copious amounts of energy to wrestle the dead from the walkway, they had returned to the tried and tested method of knocking them down and crushing the skulls.

  “Wait a minute.” Connor pulled them to a stop and reached out over the railing.

  A rope was tied off above and a square of netting had been cut away to allow someone to climb upwards.

  “What have we here?” Craig yelled with exaggerated surprise, “Is it a shortcut?”

  “Get out of my way!” hissed the third man and he grabbed the rope from Connor’s hands.

  Swinging out into nothingness, he kicked off from the railing and started to climb.

  “We need you, where are you going?” Connor screeched.

  “Fu
ck you, I’m getting out of here,” he laughed madly as he neared the top floor.

  “I’m afraid not.” Craig shook his head and whistled.

  A man darted out from one of the cells and slashed at the taut rope with a machete, severing it and then darting back inside the cell and slamming the door. For a split second the man hung motionless before gravity exerted its will once more. Landing on the flexible netting, his weight rolled him into the middle where he joined the throng of trapped undead who commenced feeding immediately. Torrents of blood flowed and splashed onto the ground below and the zombie beneath dropped to the floor to lap at the warm liquid.

  “We’re not falling for any more tricks, we go slow and watch each other’s back, ok?” Tad bellowed over the din of the cheering inmates.

  Connor could only nod weakly as he watched parts of the doomed man disappear into greedy mouths.

  “Hey! I need you!” Tad grabbed Connor’s shirt and shook him.

  “Ok.”

  As one, they barged forward, never once considering why the resistance was so light on that floor. The middle staircase of the three was the only safe one which cut down the journey by fifty feet. As they reached the top and drew level with Craig and his men, they could almost taste victory. Their shields were coated with all manner of bone fragments and dripping green gore from battle. The only thing that separated the two men from the ladders was a further fifty feet of sparsely populated walkway.

  Craig addressed the pair, “Before you start sucking each other’s dicks, you may want to know that one of the ladders is a fake. It looks like the real thing, but is just painted cardboard tubing glued together.”

  “So what? We’ll just fight our way through to both,” Tad laughed, “We’ve won.”

  “That may be a little premature.” Craig wagged a cautionary finger and turned to JR, “Release them.”

  With another high-pitched whistle, unseen ropes pulled the cell doors open all along the rear of the wing. Over a hundred zombies came stumbling out to investigate the shrill noise. The sight of the meal was enough to agitate them and they moaned with inhuman need.

  “We don’t have time to try both!” Tad gasped, reeling with horror.

  “I’ll take left, you take right. At least one of us will make it,” Connor proposed and they shook hands.