Even though Anne didn’t look convinced, she silently nodded her head.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Liz said turning back to Jen. ‘Please… keep them safe.’
Jen nodded, instinctively putting her arms protectively about the two children.
Within seconds, Liz was out of the cart and unhitching Samson. After two ungraceful attempts, she finally managed to pull herself up into the saddle, and with a sharp flick of the reins, she gave chase. Using the compacted snow left by the armoured vehicle, Liz was able to let Samson move a lot faster than she would normally have dared. Kicking up the snow as his hooves thundered after the retreating vehicle, Liz could tell Samson enjoyed being able to really let go and run as fast as he could. At one point, she saw two of the Dead shambling aimlessly in the middle of the road, but she flew past at such speed, they were far behind her before they even had time to react.
She was surprised when she saw the bulky shape of the armoured vehicle parked at the side of the road barely half mile down the lane. Pulling Samson to a halt, Liz quickly made an equally ungraceful dismount, almost falling on her backside in the process.
‘Come on, boy,’ she whispered, stroking Samson’s muzzle to calm him.
After such a short burst of speed, Samson was twitchy, stamping his hooves and sending large plumes of fogging breath into the still night air. He had tasted the freedom of the gallop and he was eager to get going again, but now she needed him to be still and quiet.
‘Shh, Samson,’ she said, looking into one of his large glossy eyes as she continued to calm him. ‘Shhh.’
Eventually, the stallion let his nervous energy bleed away and he was soon the content calm beast Liz was used to. Leading him over to a tree, she tied him off, and with one last comforting pat, Liz made her way past the armoured vehicle to the front door of the overgrown house. With a click, her blade slid free of its sheath, ready to defend or to kill as she walked through the open doorway.
Stepping into the dark dusty living room, Liz used a technique Charlie once taught her. Closing her eyes, she allowed her senses to open up and listened to the sounds of the house. Above her at the back of the building, she could hear the muffled voices of two people talking and she was sure one of them was Alice. Why she should have been brought here, away from the convoy, Liz could not guess, but at least she had found her friend and yet another miracle had been tossed her way. To Liz’s right she could hear some light scratching, but dismissed it as probably mice or rats nesting in one of the walls. They were certainly no threat, but footsteps above her that were making the way from the front of the house and along the landing to the top of the stairs caught her attention. Slipping deep into the shadows under the stairs, Liz waited. Whoever was coming down had heard her move and had altered his own pace accordingly. He moved with caution and purpose now, because he knew someone awaited him in the living room and was now on his guard. The only choice Liz had was to act first and act fast. The man had barely taken his foot off the last step before she sent her blade whispering though the air towards his throat.
‘I said where the fuck is Alice?’ Liz repeated, pushing her blade a fraction closer to the of the soldier’s neck.
Matt opened and closed his mouth, shocked that the young woman had him exactly where she wanted him within seconds.
‘She’s upstairs having her baby,’ he replied, ‘Who are you?’
Liz looked at the man, trying to gauge whether he was friend or foe. They already had one soldier who had risked his life to save some of their number, perhaps another of them had followed suit.
‘Liz,’ she finally said, lowering her blade to push past him and run up the stairs.
‘You’re in big trouble, lady,’ Liz said to Alice, waltzing into the room, her eyes brimming with tears of relief.
‘Jesus!’ gasped Avery in surprise, almost falling over himself to get to his rifle.
‘You took your time,’ Alice said though pants. ‘It’s okay, Avery… she’s a friend.’
Liz could hold out no longer and rushed forward to hug the friend she thought she might never see again. Kissing her forehead, Liz watched as the man who Alice had called Avery, loaded a hypodermic with a clear liquid.
‘Do you know what you’re doing?’ Liz asked the man.
He simply looked at her as if she was asking a stupid question and carried on wiping an antiseptic swab over the crook of Alice’s elbow.
‘It’s okay, Liz,’ said Alice, wincing as the needle went in. ‘Avery’s a doctor or micro biologist or something, so he knows what he’s doing. He’s… ooh…ooH…OOHHH.’
Whatever Alice had intended to say about her new friend, Avery, was lost as a powerful contraction stole the words from her.
‘Sounds like it’s time to push, Alice,’ said Avery positioning himself at the foot of the bed and lifting the sheet up over her knees. ‘When I tell you, I want you to bear down like you’re trying to go to the toilet, okay?’
‘Mmm,’ Alice said, clamping her mouth closed to prevent any more dangerous cries escaping her.
Alice looked over at Liz and grabbed her hand tightly.
‘I’m scared,’ she managed to whisper before she felt the undeniable need to push take control of her every thought.
Liz knew Alice was petrified but together they would get through this. At least they actually had the luxury of a doctor to help with the birth. That alone was something they’d never dreamed of all those months ago when they had realised they were both going to have children. Alice let out another strangled cry and Liz turned to the doorway where the soldier stood.
‘Did you close the front door?’ she whispered, worried they could be swamped by the Dead at any moment.
‘Yes,’ he replied, his face full of concern as he watched Alice trying to suffer in silence. ‘I’ll go and keep watch though… just in case.’
With that, Matt turned and left Dr Avery and the two women to it.
Sooner than he had expected, Matt heard the high pitch wailing of an infant coming from the bedroom above him. Running back up the stairs, eager to see the baby, Matt paused briefly before knocking on the bedroom door and pushing it slowly open.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked, popping his head round the door to see a beaming but tired looking Alice holding her baby boy wrapped in a floral bed sheet.
‘Yes, it all went quite smoothly,’ Avery replied, wiping his hands on another of the sheets, ‘considering.’
Alice looked from Matt to Avery, tears filling her eyes.
‘I can never thank the two of you enough,’ she said through her tears. ‘You both risked your lives to save my baby… thank you… thank you.’
‘Hey,’ said Matt, walking over and crouching down by the side of the bed to look at the baby in her arms, ‘it was nothing, Alice… a walk in the park.’
‘Phil’s going to be so pissed he missed the birth,’ said Liz, her little finger gently stroking the baby’s face.
‘Well, when we get back to Lanhern, you can tell him all about it,’ Alice replied softly, looking in wonder at the miracle in her arms.
‘It’ll be sooner than that,’ Liz replied dragging her eyes away from the baby to look at Alice, ‘He’s with Imran, Patrick and Leon. They’ve gone to the soldier’s camp to get our people back.’
‘Oh, my God, Liz,’ Alice said, her face collapsing with worry.
‘It’s alright, one of the soldiers is with them, Steven Blackmore, Penny’s friend from school,’ she replied, unsure of Alice’s reaction.
‘Steve’s alive?’ Matt interrupted.
‘Yes,’ Liz said looking from one worried expression to the next. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘We drugged the soldiers,’ Avery said softly, ‘and the Dead came while we were escaping.’
‘The unconscious soldiers were sitting targets for them,’ Matt added, ‘and now…’
‘And now the camp’s full of the Dead and they’re walking right into it,’ said Liz, the horrific rea
lisation hitting her. ‘I’ve got to go!’
‘No, Liz!’ said Alice, reaching for her, but Liz was already half way to the door.
‘Wait,’ Matt said grabbing her arm. ‘I’ll go.’
Liz pause for a second, weighing something up in her mind.
‘No,’ she replied flatly, ‘I need you to stay here to protect Alice and the baby.’
‘Liz,’ Alice interrupted.
‘No, Alice, it’s the only way to keep the both of you safe, so I have to go.’ From her tone, Alice knew it was pointless to argue with her. Liz’s mind was made up. ‘And if I’m not back by morning, Anne, Justin and a woman called Jen are waiting with Delilah half a mile down the road in the direction of the camp. Go get them and tell Anne that I love her and that… and that I’m sorry.’
‘No, Liz!’ Alice cried, ‘Wait!’
However, Liz had already left the room and even as Alice’s words faded into the night, they could hear the thunder of hooves from outside the house.
***
‘Something’s not right,’ said Steve in a low whisper, ‘there’s no-one stationed on watch in the Jackal…. I don’t like it’
‘No, wait, here comes someone,’ replied Patrick, tapping Steve on the shoulder and pointing to the shadowy figure of a man stumbling towards the vehicle.
The group slowly crept along the driveway, keeping deep in the shadows of the dense thickets that, like everywhere, had grown wild and unchecked along the roadside verge. With their backs pressed against the foliage, they had made it to within five or so meters of one of the armoured vehicles and were surprised to find it unmanned. Phil placed his hand on Imran’s arm and gave a nod in the direction of the approaching soldier. Knowing what was being asked of him, Imran took position. Down on one knee, with the string to his bow pulled taut, Imran took aim on the man’s head. After a deep breath to centre him, Imran let his fingers gently slip from the string and watched as the arrow flew towards the target. With a cracking sound, much like that of a dropped egg, the arrow appeared lodged in the man’s temple. For what seemed like an eternity, the man seemed to sway back and forth on his feet, his body unable to realise or perhaps accept the sudden change in state from one of the living to one of the dead. However, the body couldn’t deny reality for ever and just as Imran considered reaching for a second arrow, the man fell face first onto the tramped down snow.
‘We’ll need to move that Jackal if we want a hope in hell of getting the holding truck out of here,’ said Steve turning back to Phil. ‘I’ll release the manual brake and then we can push it to the side of the road. That should give us enough room.’
‘We should check for weapons too,’ Phil whispered. ‘It might even things up a bit.’
With a nod, the five men ran to the Jackal, keeping low and out of sight. As they passed the solider Imran had killed, Leon stopped and began searching him for weapons. When the other four reached the Jackal, Steve jumped up into the driver’s seat while the other three went to the rear and waited to push.
‘What the…’ he began, his hand coming away wet and dark as he slid across the seat.
Moving his hand up to catch a pool of moonlight, a tight knot began to form in his stomach. The fingertips, his palm and half way down the sleeve of his right arm were now covered in thick cooling blood. As the knot tightened within him, Steve looked from his hand back to the Jackal interior. It was then that he noticed the thick blood dripping from the ceiling onto the seats, forming a slowly spreading puddle.
‘Shit!’ he said to himself, knowing this could only mean one thing.
‘Guys, we got a problem,’ Leon whispered.
Looking back at Leon, Patrick, Phil and Imran could clearly see what he meant. During the search, Leon had turned the man’s body over and even with only the moon for illumination, it was clear to see the soldier had been dead long before Imran’s arrow had plunged into him. In the silver light, they could see that much of the flesh had been torn from one side of the soldier’s face, exposing part of his cheekbone and jaw. One of his eyes had also been viciously ripped out, leaving only a stretched shred of optic nerve in its place.
‘His pulse box thing is gone,’ Leon whispered, pulling aside the man’s blood drenched collar, ‘and no gun either.’
‘Right, no time to be subtle now,’ Phil said, standing away from the Jackal. ‘Steve, just start the engine and drive this thing out of the way. If the Dead attacked the camp, we need to get this done as soon as possible.’
Agreeing with Phil’s urgency, Steve began to flip the switches that would start the mechanical beast, but nothing happened. Repeating the procedure just in case he had done something wrong, Steve tried again, but still nothing.
‘Come on, you piece of crap,’ Steve mumbled as he tried a final time to no avail. ‘Shit!’
‘You’re going to have to push it, after all,’ Steve whispered back to the four men. ‘It’s out of action.’
Not waiting to be told twice, the men braced themselves against the rear of the Jackal and straining, began to push. At first, their boots slipped on the compacted snow making it seem impossible, but then, ever so slowly, the vehicle began to move forward. Once the momentum had been built up, the weight of the vehicle, the slight slope of the driveway began to work in their favour, and before long, the Jackal was wedged deeply in the roadside thicket. Jumping out of the driver’s seat, Steve ran back to the other four, wiping his blood-covered hand on his trouser leg. He was a metre away from them when he saw a shadow separate itself from the darkness and run at full speed towards Patrick.
‘Look out!’ he cried, as the figure threw itself at Patrick’s back.
But unlike Steve, Patrick spent the last eight years with the Dead and even as he felt the body impact against him, he was using the momentum to throw himself forward. The Dead man didn’t stand a chance. This was one meal that would be denied him. As Patrick landed in the snow, he twisted in the Dead man’s grip and thrust his hand sharply up into the ravaged flaps of a torn throat. Latching onto the man’s trachea, Patrick began to push the face with hungry snapping jaws away from him. When the struggling Dead man was at arm’s length from him, Phil stepped forward, grabbed what was left of the man’s hair and yanked his head even further back. With a cracking sound, the Dead man’s vertebrae ground together until with a snap something gave way. It was then that Phil pulled a long hunting knife from his belt and stabbed down on the crown of the man’s skull. Instantly, the unnatural life left the Dead man’s limbs and he slumped to the ground.
‘Thanks,’ said Patrick, taking Phil’s offered hand, to help pull him up.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ said Steve. ‘Whoever just buggered off in the other Jackal has made sure no one from here would be following them… well… no one alive anyway.’
‘We need to get that holding truck out of here, now,’ Imran added, looking around in case more of the Dead soldiers appeared.
‘Right,’ said Steve. ‘Leon and I will go to the Med lab to get the pregnant woman and my mate, Matt.’
‘Alice,’ Imran whispered, ‘her name is Alice.’
‘Oh, okay… sorry,’ Steve replied. ‘Leon and I will go get Alice and Matt. You three, try to get the holding truck started.’
With a nod, the men split up and darted off into the shadows.
Steve and Leon walked with caution through the camp towards the Med lab. With each step, they expected the gore covered Dead to attack, hungry and merciless. All about them, the once pristine white snow bore the tell-tale signs of the recent carnage that had descended on the camp. Great swaths of the snow were now splashed with spilt blood and dotted with unidentifiable chunks of flesh.
‘Jesus,’ murmured Leon, as he stepped over what looked like part of someone’s hand.
Each time they heard movement, the pair would freeze, their hearts hammering loudly in their chests as they peered desperately into the shadows, afraid the instrument of their death was lurking just out of sight. From at leas
t one of the small tents, they could hear something noisily gorging itself and they knew it wouldn’t be long before this act of feeding would increase their danger by one more Dead soul.
Steve tapped Leon’s shoulder and pointed to the Med lab. Unbeknownst to the pair, in Matt’s haste to escape the camp, he hadn’t ensured the door had closed properly behind him and even now, it swung slightly ajar in the cold breeze, making a clicking sound each time the lock failed to connect. Glancing quickly over to the Holding truck, Steve could just make out Phil climbing up into the cab while Imran and Patrick walked round to the back of the long vehicle.
‘Shit,’ Steve mumbled, noticing the bloody handprints over the Med lab door.
Looking over to Leon, whom stood ready, his feet apart and a sharp gleaming knife in each hand, he knew now was a good a time as any. So, reaching slowly forwards, Steve’s hand closed over the blood splattered door handle, stopping the door mid-swing. Taking a deep breath, Steve pulled the door towards him, revealing the bloodbath within. The once sterile and shining surfaces now dripped with clotting blood and stinking viscera. Whatever had happened here had left the Med lab looking more like an abattoir than a medical facility. The Dead had had a feeding frenzy and the two bodies that had been on the bunks seem to have had much of their flesh and internal organs violently ripped from them. At least these two had still had the safe guard of the pulse detectors on their necks to prevent them from coming back. One of the corpses had an arm that was just about still hanging to its torso by a few threads of muscle and on it. Steve could see the medical insignia that identified the body as that of one of the doctors. Which one, Steve had no idea. Such was the mutilation the person endured at the hands of the Dead.
The second body was clearly that of a man and had faired fractionally better than his comrade. However, with his back arched painfully upwards and his skinless face a mask of horror; it was clear this man had been aware in his final moments of the hands that plunged deep into his stomach ripping free a tasty morsel. Steve prayed that this was not Matt, but it was hard to tell. So, stepping over chunks of various organs he couldn’t name, he moved closer to the body. Staring down at the bloody remains, Steve tried the fit the image of Matt onto the corpse’s face. The body was approximately the right size and what was left of the skin was the right colouring, but without a face and scalp, it was impossible to tell.
Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) Page 29
