‘We shouldn’t clump together,’ said Justin. ‘It’ll be easier to dodge in and out if we’re not running in a line.’
‘Okay,’ Jen said taking a breath to calm herself. ‘You’re the expert, so we’ll follow your lead.’
With that, Justin smiled and began creeping forwards. When he was a few steps behind the first Dead woman, he turned quickly to Jen and Anne to make sure they were ready. Seeing a pair of nervous looking faces staring back at him, he realised they were as ready as they were ever going to be, so he turned, rushed forward and shoved the Dead woman hard in the back, knocking her to the ground.
‘Now!’ he said, darting forwards like a maniac.
All three of them sprinted effortlessly past the fallen Dead woman and before she had even reacted to landing face down in the snow for a second time, they were already dodging past the first of the other four walking cadavers on the track. It wasn’t until they were approaching the second of them, a man with an arm missing, the ragged strips of flesh hanging uselessly from his torn sleeve, that one of the Dead further on turned. His attention was drawn to the sound of movement behind him. Then, it was like a chain reaction that the moaning began filling the air. Reaching for Justin as he darted past, the man swung his remaining arm uselessly, desperate to grab hold of the flesh that was just out of his reach. Anne then made it past him smoothly while his attention was focused on Justin. Jen, feeling brave, kicked out at his knees. With his legs buckling beneath him, he fell to the ground.
‘Don’t stop to deal with them!’ Justin called back to her. ‘Just get past them. It doesn’t matter if they follow, just keep moving.’
After weaving in and out of the remaining three of the Dead, each of whom were momentarily too dazzled by the choice of so much meat running past them to notice it easily escaping their reach, Jen and the two children swiftly made it to the road.
‘Shit!’ Jen said, taking in the deadly minefield she and the children would have to manoeuvre.
There between the disappearing cart and themselves were at least forty of the Dead, shambling their way along the road. Already some of them had started to turn, their interest aroused by the call of their Dead brethren behind them.
‘Don’t think about,’ Justin said calmly looking from Anne to Jen. ‘Just do it.’
‘I must be mad,’ Jen said, darting forwards, taking a slightly different route to Justin and Anne.
Justin and Anne seemed to have no difficulty dipping under the outstretched arms as the Dead lumbered towards them. However, for Jen, her very height was making it more of a challenge. More than once, she felt the deathly brush of Dead fingers on her back as she rushed past them, and knew that any minute, one would grab hold of her for good. When it finally happened, she was surprised it came from such a low-level attack. Darting past a putrid decaying fat man, his large body a seemingly unending feast for maggots, Jen failed to notice the cadaver of the child until it was too late. Being not much older than Justin, the Dead child latched onto her jacket as she ran past, causing her to trip. With a scream, she went down hard, taking the Dead child with her.
‘No!’ she screamed.
Looking back over his shoulder, Justin could see Jen fighting to push away the small animated corpse, while more of the Dead began closing in on her.
‘Get to the cart and get help!’ he shouted to Anne, as he sped back to help Jen.
Barely breaking her stride, Anne knew it was up to her, but she simply didn’t know if she could get to cart in time. It was already quite far down the road and it was about to disappear round a corner.
‘Lizzy! Lizzy!’ she screamed over and over as loudly as she could.
She was desperate for her saviours to hear her, but she knew with each second, they were getting too far away and Anne’s screams soon became choking sobs. She knew she was going to die on this road, because it was simply impossible to outrun the dead forever. However, she would not give up just yet and through her sobs, she screamed for her sister again and again. Then as she dodged past a Dead man that had turned his putrid gaze to her, she saw the cart come to an abrupt halt. Before the wheels had even stopped turning, the top and side hatches had been flung open and three men were piling out. High on cart’s roof, Imran stood, his bow already letting fly his life saving arrows, while barrelling towards her was Phil, screaming with rage as he swung his club left and right knocking the Dead to the floor to get to her. Reaching her in mere seconds, he effortlessly scooped her into his arms, knocking away a reaching Dead man with a sharp kick to his hip.
‘Thought we’d lost you, Darling,’ he said, pulling her tight to his chest.
‘Help Justin and the woman!’ he shouted as he ran back past Patrick and Leon, each dealing with the Dead in their own brutal way.
Skidding to an abrupt halt, Phil lowered Anne back to the ground.
‘I told you to wait in the cart,’ he said angrily to Liz, as she pushed him aside to pull her sister into a tight hug.
As the two sister wept in each other’s arms, Phil turned back to the job in hand. With a warrior’s roar, he leapt back into battle again, smashing skulls or simply removing them from their unnatural shoulders.
Back down the road, Justin was doing his best to dart in and out between the Dead, knocking them down or drawing their attention away from Jen, who still battled with the snapping Dead child on top of her. Then, one moment the child’s face was but a breath away from her own and the next it was being yanked violently back away from her and thrown back into the Dead crowd by a young black man.
‘Are you alright? Did it get you?’ Leon asked, reaching out his hand to help the shocked woman back on her feet.
‘No… I’m fine… thanks,’ Jen replied, a puzzled expression falling on her face as she watched him pull a knife from a slit on his jacket and seem to take aim on her.
‘Duck,’ he simply said, only moments before letting the blade fly from his fingers.
‘What the fuck?’ Jen cried, fearing he hadn’t heard her say she hadn’t been bitten.
It was only when a decrepit looking Dead woman slumped to the floor by her side that she realise he had saved her yet again.
‘I’ll have to charge for the next one,’ he said with a wink, reaching past her to yank free his knife.
‘Err… you could’ve given me a bit more warning, I thought you were going to kill me,’ she said letting go of a tight breath that up until that point she had been unaware she had been holding.
‘You’re welcome,’ Leon replied with a smile.
He knew the woman wasn’t being ungrateful on purpose, it was just that almost having your face ripped off could make you forget your manners sometimes. They had all been there, so he didn’t take offense. In fact, there was an indefinable something he instantly liked about her and it wasn’t just that he quite liked the feisty type either. Of course, she was a far too skinny for him at the moment but beneath the angry glare, angled bones and taut muscle, he could see the makings a strong and beautiful woman.
‘Here, take this,’ he said thrusting a large hunting knife in her hand, ‘and get to the cart.’
‘No, I’ll help keep them off Justin,’ she replied, looking for the small boy that had surely kept the Dead hoard away from her.
‘Do as you’re told woman, you can barely stand yourself,’ Leon butted in, ‘we’ll deal with the Dead… get to the cart.’
Jen opened her mouth to argue but closed it again. She knew he was right and it galled her. As much as she wanted to help Justin, she would only be a hindrance and in her weakened state, someone could end of dead because of her. Holding her head up and pushing her shoulders back she moved to pass Leon.
‘This isn’t over Flyboy,’ she said, noticing his smirk.
‘Whatever you say, Hot-stuff,’ Leon replied, unable to help himself from winking at her again.
Jen paused for a fraction of a second mid step. It had been a long time since anyone had referred to her in such a way and it threw her for a second. Frustr
ated that this cocky young man, so sure of himself, had been able to get under her skin so quickly, Jen turned with a ‘humph’ and stepped over the fallen Dead to make her way to the cart.
After a brief glance to make sure her path to the cart was clear, Leon turned back to the dozen or so remaining Dead that were still shambling about excitedly on the road. Imran, Patrick and Phil had already dealt with the most able bodied of the walking corpses, so those left were either unable to stand or were so pitifully decrepit that any threat they posed was minimal. Even as Leon stamped down on the skull of a Dead girl, her back broken by one of Phil’s mighty club swings, he watched as Justin kicked out at the withered legs of a particularly emaciated looking Dead old man, snapping his brittle bones easily.
As the last of the incapacitated corpses were forever silenced, an eerie quiet descended on the lane. Its once pristine covering of white snow was now littered with broken, twisted bodies and large dark patches of fetid gore.
‘We haven’t got time to move them,’ Phil said, looking around at the corpses. ‘We should quickly collect Imran’s arrows and then get back in the cart before any more turn up, otherwise we’ll be here all day.’
‘Come on, Killer,’ Patrick said, smiling as he ruffled Justin’s hair. ‘You did good, your mum and dad will be proud.’
Something sad and far too adult for his young face flashed behind Justin’s eyes.
‘We’ve got to get them back first,’ he said quietly.
‘We’ll get them back, don’t you worry,’ Phil said, picking the small wriggling boy and hugging him. ‘Hey, you may be the big bad man now but you’re never too old for a hug, Sonny… just glad we found you, Justin.’
‘You found us?’ Justin said smiling. ‘More like we found you.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ Phil said, finally releasing Justin and playfully knocking his chin. ‘Come on… get in the cart, smartarse.’
After they had darted from one felled corpse to the next collecting Imran’s arrows and Leon’s knives, the three men and Justin squashed themselves back into the cart with the others. The cart, which had not exactly been roomy with the four men in it, was now positively cramped, thanks to the two women and two children they had collected.
‘Looks like we made it just in time,’ Phil said quietly, as he saw through the front view slit another three of the Dead already pushing themselves through the hedgerow and onto the road.
‘Is Delilah going to be able to pull us all?’ Liz asked, worrying that if they didn’t catch up with the convoy soon, the trusty mare certainly wouldn’t be able to keep pulling the extra weight long term.
‘We’ll use Samson and Delilah in shifts,’ Phil replied, whispering over his shoulder. ‘That way, neither of them will bear the burden for too long.’
Nodding, Liz turned to their newest adult addition and noticed she seemed to be staring intently at Leon, with a puzzled expression on her face. It was almost as if she was trying to figure something out. Only when Leon caught her gaze, raising a dark eyebrow in reply, did the woman turned away from him.
‘I’m Liz, and Anne is my sister,’ Liz began, nodding towards Anne sitting squashed tightly next to her.
‘You’re very lucky to have each other,’ Jen said quietly, images of the soldiers shooting her brother suddenly flooding her mind. ‘She was very brave.’
‘Yes, yes she was,’ Liz continued, realising from the look on her face that the woman had obviously lost some family of her own recently, ‘and that’s Patrick, Phil, Imran… and you’ve met Leon.’
‘Yes, I’ve met Leon,’ she said, her eyes flicking briefly back to the young black man. ‘My name’s Jennifer, but you can just call me Jen.’
‘I take it Private Blackmore helped you escape, Jen?’ Patrick asked. ‘What happened to the rest?’
‘The men had been shackled during the night,’ Jen began between mouthfuls of the cooked chicken that Imran had handed her. ‘Apparently the Sergeant didn’t think the women and children would try to escape on their own. Anyway, the Private wasn’t aware of the shackles so when he made his move, only Penny and I were able to go. Justin’s mother and another woman decided to stay with their men. When we got out, the others were seen by some soldiers but I pulled Anne and Justin out of sight just in time behind some tents. We managed to creep away.’
‘What about Penny, the Private and the other children?’ asked Liz, concerned for her friend and the man who had risked everything to help them.
‘I think she’ll be okay. They’ll want her… for breeding …’ she replied, with her lip curling in disgust. ‘I doubt the solider will be quite so lucky though. That Sergeant doesn’t look the type to just forgive and forget.’
‘No, I don’t think he is,’ Phil said in an angry tone, pulling Delilah to a stop. ‘Look.’
***
As the rumble of engines faded into the distance, the only sounds Steve could hear were his own sharp shallow breathing and the slow creaking of the rope as he swung gently back and forth. With his chin resting on his chest, Steve watched his laboured breath pluming clouds of vapour in the cold air. For a moment, it would billow out from him like tiny summer clouds, only to dissipate into the air seconds later. The rope tied tightly around his chest had pinned his arms to his sides and with each cloud of breath, a spasm of pain shot from his bruised and cracked ribs. Nevertheless, Steve held onto the pain, pulling it to his very core to fuel the hatred burning there for his father. He had certainly underestimated the darkness that he now knew dwelled within the shell of the man who had given him life. It was bad enough that he had left his own son hanging from a tree like some macabre piñata, full of bloody treats for the Dead, but to go out of his way to ensure Steve knew that he would rise from his all too brief oblivion as one of the Dead himself was beyond sadistic. His only hope was that the pregnant woman and her friends would turn up before the Dead found him, but with the noisy convoy attracting all that could walk, he didn’t fancy his chances. When the snap of twigs finally came from his left, it was almost with relief that he realised the time had come when his fate would be decided. He would survive the encounter or he wouldn’t, it was as simple as that.
Craning his head to the left, he watched as the corpse of a teenage girl stumbled onto the road. Dressed in the tattered remains of a school uniform, the Dead girl steadied herself for a second on the compacted snow covered road before turning her film-covered eyes to Steve. She had been drawn to the road by the sounds of the convoy but she had found in its place a prize of flesh and blood waiting for her. With every burning cell of her body, she knew she must claim this prize. It was hers by right, hers to rip and bite into, hers to gorge upon to quench the fiery hunger that consumed her. Almost instantly, she reached a decaying hand toward him, beseeching Steve to relinquish the life he so selfishly hoarded. As she took a painful step towards him, Steve noticed her hand was missing three of its fingers.
‘There were worse ways to be conscripted into the army of the Dead,’ he thought to himself, pulling his eyes away from the blackened stubs on her hand.
‘Like having the fucking flesh stripped from your legs while you’re trussed up like a pig,’ he said aloud.
At the sound of his voice, she became more excited, and as if to answer him, she let forth a low brittle moan of her own. Step by Step, the Dead girl sang to him her call of death, demanding he pay for her deadly aria with his flesh. Sooner than he hoped, she dragged her decaying corpse across the road to stand directly below him. Panicking that at any moment he would feel the cold press of her blackened lips against his flesh, Steve kicked out hard with one leg aiming for her head. The lightning bolt that suddenly shot through him from the jerky movement of the rope made him cry out in pain and as his vision spun, he feared he would blackout completely. Fighting the oblivion that threatened to swamp him, Steve did his best to ignore the spasms of pain pulsing from his chest and tried to concentrate on the Dead girl already reaching up for his leg. But it appeared Lady Luck was l
ooking favourable down on him for once, because the Dead girl had been short for her age when she was alive and with his feet only coming level with her forehead, there was no way she could reach up to bite him. Of course, that would not stop her fingers ripping into the flesh of his legs if she could get through his combat trousers. Steve knew his kicks, even if he didn’t blackout from the pain, simply couldn’t muster the force needed to do any real damage to the Dead girl, so with a flash of inspiration, he tried to manoeuvre her under him. Perhaps if he could use the top of her head to take some of his weight, he might be able to relieve the pressure on his ribs just enough to be able to stamp down on her head to crack her skull or break her neck. It was a wild shot, but with no other options open to him, Steve knew he at least had to give it a go. However, when he heard the sound of more snapping of branches over to his right, his heart sank. There, pushing its way through the snow-covered hedgerow was a Dead man and more importantly, he was a tall Dead man. This new arrival, drawn to Steve by the Dead girl’s song, could easily reach the flesh of Steve’s calves with his mouth and condemn him with a bite.
‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ said Steve, focusing all his attention on the newly approaching cadaver.
Already, his low baritone moans had joined those of the girl, weaving their calls together to create a mournful dirge full of hunger and loss. The Dead man must have been in his forties when he was taken and from the looks of him, he must have only died within the last few months. His flesh, though grey and rotten, was still mainly intact and apart from a black creeping mould that appeared from under the collar of his jacket to bloom up his neck and onto one side of his face, he seemed in relatively good condition. How he had died, Steve had no idea. At the moment it was his own demise that concerned him and as the man shambled closer, he knew it was about to happen a lot sooner than he hoped. With each tortured step, Steve’s death became more and more of a certainty.
‘Fucking hell!’ Steve said quietly, tears of frustration and anger filling his eyes, as the Dead man’s arms reached towards him.
Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) Page 23
