Killing the Dead (Book 10): Feral

by Murray, Richard

  “Holding it together.”

  “And you?”

  “It bloody hurts,” he said as he leant against the door frame. What I could see of his face beneath the heavy bandages reflected that. A dark ring circled his uncovered eye and his pain was visible there.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault. It was mine,” he said and glanced back over his shoulder at his sister as she knelt on the floor by the pool of her lover’s blood. All that remained of him. “But I’ll be stronger now. For her. For their baby.”

  “We should leave. Head back to the castle and never leave,” I said and wiped ineffectually at the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop forming in my eyes.

  “No,” he said with a gentle smile full of sorrow. “If we do that, they win. We continue north and finish what we set out to do. We find the navy and Cass has her baby safely.”

  “And what about Gabe and the others?” I asked and saw his face darken.

  “They’re responsible for Pat’s death. They can all go to hell for all I care.”

  “Lily,” Georgia called and I looked back to see a familiar figure enter the bar. My hand tightened around the handle of my club and my eyes narrowed as I desperately tried to push down the sudden surge of rage that threatened to overwhelm me.

  “You survived!” Gabe said. “I’m glad.”

  “Bastard!”

  Cass leapt to her feet and ran at him as I ran for her. Georgia was there first, arms around the other woman’s waist as she pulled her back, away from the smug bastard. She whispered furiously into her ear and by the time I had crossed the dozen paces to their side, Cass was already beginning to quieten.

  “You should leave,” I said with enough quiet anger beneath my words that he glanced at me in surprise.

  “Now darlin, you really don’t think we planned on staying do you?” he asked as the others joined him.

  Becky, with a certain smug superiority about her. No shame there at what they’d done. Leo wouldn’t meet my eyes and while Martin did, he soon looked away, down at his feet or at the wall. Jess gave an apologetic shrug and young Zak bore his shame in the bright red of his cheeks as he stayed as far back from the others as he could.

  “You left us to die,” I said, biting off each word. “Pat’s death’s on your heads and you can be fucking sure that I’ll let everyone know it was because of your cowardice.”

  “No need to be like that sweetie,” Becky said. “There’s plenty I could tell everyone about your group.”

  “Bitch,” I spat but she just smiled. She’d probably been called worse before.

  “We’re taking the flatbed and heading back to the Sanctuary,” Gabe said.

  “What about Nat?” I asked. “What about your brother?”

  “I’m sure he can take care of himself and Nat’s surely dead,” he said. “If she wasn’t she’d have been back.”

  “Unless Ryan found her and decided it was time for a change,” Becky said in a sweet tone that practically dripped malice. “He gets bored so easily.”

  “Don’t,” Gregg whispered as he gently gripped my arm. I hadn’t even been aware that I had half raised it, though from the look on Becky’s face, she’d seen and considered it a point to her.

  “Just bloody leave then,” I said. “Go home to your family and let them know what a useless fuck up you are. Because, when we get back, you can be damned sure I’ll be telling them that.”

  “I don’t think so lass,” he said as his voice took on an air of menace. “We did what we had to do to survive. You’d have done the same.”

  “It’s patently clear that we wouldn’t,” I snapped. “Ask your little girlfriend there. She knows we’ve never done that.”

  He didn’t even glance at Becky as he shrugged and continued. “I made a choice that meant my people would survive.”

  “Yeah, and how’s your dad going to respond to that? Do no harm, isn’t that his motto?”

  “Well now, the thing is, he won’t know,” Gabe said and I tensed, sure he was about to attack. “You won’t leave without my brother and by the time you get back, we’ll have been there and told our story.”

  “You think that’ll stop us telling the truth?”

  “I think that by the time you get there, we will have told a story. It depends on you, how you want that to go.”

  “What?” There was an undeniable threat in his voice and I didn’t care for it one bit.

  “We can tell everyone how the big man raped and killed poor Nat,” Becky said. “We did our best to stop him but you all defended him.”

  “They wouldn’t believe that,” I said as Georgia struggled to keep Cass calm.

  “Well, they will after I tell them all how you’ve had a serial killer with you all this time. It’ll crush his parents of course, but oh the things I could tell them,” Becky said with a smirk.

  There it was. Out in the open and from the look on Gabriel’s face, he’d already known. When had she told him?

  “Now there’s another story we can tell,” Gabriel said quietly confident he had us where he wanted. “How you all died, here in this foul place.”

  “Is that a threat?” Gregg asked. I could feel his hand tighten against my arm where he still held it.

  “Not at all laddie,” Gabriel said without a trace of humour. “But see now, my brother is as vile as they come. A murderer. He isn’t going to be anywhere near my parents or sister. They’ll grieve for an odd son who they didn’t really like that much, but it’ll be easier than living with the knowledge of all the evil he’d done.”

  “Wait here for him or don’t,” Becky added. “We don’t care. But when you leave, make sure it's towards anywhere but the Sanctuary.”

  “What about your journey north?” I said into the quiet that followed. “We’re only here because of you.”

  She shrugged and looked at Gabriel, her smile was for him alone as she reached into her backpack and pulled out the metal box that she’d carried with her all this way.

  “Take it,” she said as she tossed it to me. “Probably useless anyway but I don’t care anymore.”

  “Are the rest of you going along with this?” I asked and had my answer when none of them looked my way. “Screw the lot of you then.”

  “No,” Gabriel said with a burst of anger. His eyes narrowed as he glared at me with such hate that I almost took a step back. “You brought him back to us. You let him walk amongst us without anyone knowing what he was. He’s not the brother I knew and he should have never come back into our lives. I blame you for the pain my family will feel now.”

  “Make your choice,” Becky said as she put a calming hand on his shoulder. “What will it be?”

  I looked at my friends, at the pain they shared for the loss of Pat and then at the others. We were outnumbered and hurting. We couldn’t fight them all, we couldn’t win. And in truth, I was just so goddamned tired of it all.

  “Just leave,” I said. “You’ll not see us again.”

  “Aye lass,” Gabe said with a final sneer. “Make sure we don’t.”

  He gathered up his group as he looked at each of them in turn. None seemed willing to dispute his role as leader or his version of the story he’d tell. Finally, he turned to Georgia and Charlie.

  “You two can come back with us,” he said.

  “Fuck you dude,” Charlie replied.

  “Fine,” he said and shrugged. “I’m sure a cripple will be fine out on the road with the undead everywhere.”

  He turned to Georgia and raised one eyebrow in query. She smiled at him in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. It was the same smile I’d seen Ryan wear more than once.

  “I think that I’d prefer their company over yours.”

  Gabriel didn’t reply, though the colour in his cheeks deepened and his lips had a sour twist to them as he marched past us. Becky followed closely behind and the rest of them trooped after. None of them would meet our
gaze except Zak, who dropped back and waited as the others left the pub.

  “I’ll stay with you,” he said shyly and I smiled as I ignored the way Charlie rolled her eyes behind his back.

  “You’re welcome,” I said and his lips turned upwards as he nodded happily.

  “So what now boss lady?” Charlie asked and all eyes turned to me.

  “I’ve no idea,” was all the reply I could make.

  Chapter 20 – Ryan

  Much to my surprise, I woke up to find myself lying on a pile of lumber and not in the process of being devoured.

  I lay in a circle of illumination provided by the hole I had made in the ceiling and the steady drip of rain on my face had been partly what had roused me. I took a quick stock of my body.

  My arms and legs could move which was a good sign that my spine was undamaged. Nothing essential seemed to be broken though from the burst of pain when I tried to sit up and the tightness around my chest, I suspected more than one rib to be bruised.

  As I looked around, I could piece together enough to guess how I was still alive. Running from one end of the building to another were a number of metal pipes, suspended a short distance below the ceiling.

  When I’d fallen through, I’d initially hit those pipes which had slowed my fall before they in turn broke. I’d next hit the edge of a pile of timber stacked halfway to the ceiling, before bouncing off and landing on top of some large scale industrial machine. Then I had either rolled or bounced off of that and onto the pile of cut lumber where I had awoken.

  If I believed in any deity, I would have sent my thanks their way. Fortunately, I was not burdened with such nonsense and could appreciate the supreme good fortune that had saved me from a less than interesting death.

  Of course, if thanks were warranted, then the person who had decided to lock up the timber yard buildings before they abandoned it, was definitely due some. Judging from the reverberations as numerous bodies hit the heavy doors at the end of the building, I had a little more time before they managed to break in.

  I was still trapped like a rat in a cage, but I wasn’t dead yet and that was a mark in the plus column. I still had time to kill the Feral leader.

  With that thought came the flash of an image in my mind and memory returned of what I had seen. Pat. He was out there and likely due to return as a Feral since they hadn’t devoured him then and there.

  What that meant for the others, I didn’t know. They’d only dragged his body with them so I had to assume that he was the only one that they had killed. My friend.

  I shook my head to clear it. What did it matter if he was a friend or not? He was dead and death was meaningless to one such as I. His passing was an irritant since I would have to deal with the ridiculously emotional grieving of the others. Why then couldn’t I lose that image of his sightless eyes staring up at me?

  Those thoughts were getting me nowhere and I had a much more pressing situation to deal with. That being the case, I pushed myself to my feet and immediately grabbed the edge of the nearby machine to hold myself steady. Not a great sign.

  While I waited for my legs to stop their trembling and actually support me as they should, I looked around for inspiration. After all, I had about a hundred Ferals to kill and only a combat knife.

  The light was poor and I couldn’t make out the far corners of the building but I could see enough to get a general impression. It wasn’t great.

  There were several large industrial machines that looked to be saws. Big tree trunks would go in and the timber boards would come out the other end. I was sure it’d make short work of any number of zombies too but would require power… which I didn’t have.

  Aside from the various powered saws, there were a few tools scattered about amidst the stacked lumber and piles of sawdust which covered pretty much everything. But that was it. No convenient office to hide in, no door leading to the next building. There was little of actual use to me.

  The front doors boomed again as more bodies were flung against them and I let out a sigh as I reached for my knife. There was a side door, smaller than the front and meant for one person at a time. They weren’t actively banging against that but I had little doubt that after they’d seen me, they’d surrounded the building looking for a way in. So even if they weren’t actively trying to break down that door, they’d still be out there and as soon as I stepped outside. Well, they’d be on me.

  My legs were somewhat steadier so I took a short circuit of the building. I still couldn’t find anything of use as a weapon but I did think that I could perhaps make it up to the top of the stacked timber. That would at least give me somewhere to slowly starve if I didn’t fancy being eaten.

  Of the available tools, there was little of use. A couple of saws that would be great if I could get a zombie to stand still while I sawed through its skull. A hammer with a wobbly head that wouldn’t last five minutes. A fire extinguisher that I could use to bludgeon the zombies, but not as useful as my knife. And several screwdrivers, likely left by a maintenance man as I found them by one of the machines. All in all, bugger all use.

  As I thought that, my gaze settled on the fire extinguisher. Another crash echoed through the building followed by the sound of wood splintering and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before the doors broke open.

  I was standing in the centre of a building full of timber and sawdust. More to the point, a building that hadn’t been opened in months allowing the wood to slowly dry out while protected from the elements. I also had a lighter in my pocket, just one of the items that we tended to always carry with us to light candles and cooking fires.

  The building would burn quite merrily, more so when all the undead were inside. I didn’t hide my grin at that thought and eagerly set to work on a plan. Just burning the place to the ground wouldn’t be enough, I’d need to be able to get out too. No point in killing them all if I couldn’t enjoy it afterwards.

  Just dropping the lighter into a pile of sawdust wouldn’t work. I’d need to actually build a small fire and let it naturally get out of control. Fortunately, I had a knife and a great deal of lumber to work with.

  It didn’t take long to use my knife to shave some tinder off of the wooden boards nearest to me. In short time, I had a handful that I could pile up by the front door. Close enough to a stack of lumber and piled sawdust, that I was confident it would burn quickly.

  I made a small mound of the shavings and pulled out my lighter. A moment's doubt about the likelihood of surviving and then with a shrug, I ignited the lighter and held it to the wood shavings.

  They began to smoulder straight away. A small plume of smoke rising from it as a glow formed and then the fire burst to life. I stepped away and watched it for a moment as the door beside me splintered further and then with a grin that was no doubt fairly manic looking, I backed away.

  Once the doors opened, the undead would enter and I hoped, would make enough noise to draw all the others around the building to the front. Then, when they were all inside and the fire was burning merrily, I would slip out the side door and leg it.

  There came a crash and a gap opened in the door. Not that wide, but wide enough. A Feral slipped through, dropping to the ground and crouching there on all fours as it raised its head and sniffed at the air.

  It needed my scent, needed something to aim it towards me and I suspected the stale smell of sawdust would mask that. Its eyes were poor in good lighting which meant it would be almost blind inside the building. So I whistled.

  A short, sharp sound that allowed it to focus on me. It practically bounded over the floor towards me, the distance closing fast. I braced myself, legs wide enough apart that I wouldn’t be bowled over and leant forward, knife held ready.

  The Feral leapt, claws flashing out and I ducked as it sailed over me. I spun and jumped towards it before it could recover, knife plunging towards its skull, only to strike the ground as it scrambled away.

  Blood spray
ed as its clawed hands added a new scar to my cheek and I ducked my head as I barrelled towards it, striking it high on the chest with my shoulder and stabbing my blade at its head as its claws raked my back.

  It stopped moving and I pushed myself to my feet. Several more had pushed through the gap in the door and were headed my way as the scent of wood smoke filled the air. I gave a half-hearted grin as I prepared for them to arrive. Just the first one alone had managed to wound me. The odds of me surviving more than one at a time were low. With a mental shrug, I began to hum softly as I prepared to kill as many as I could.

  Duck, swivel and kick, then one was down. The second had my arm as it pulled me towards it. My knife swept out and it fell dead once more as the other rose to its feet. I kicked at it again but it scuttled back, away from me before bounding forward, mouth wide, the foul stench of its breath making me gag even as I lashed out with my blade.

  Three down, approximately ninety or more to go. I turned back to the front entrance and swore softly as I realised that another five were headed my way. With an apologetic grimace for them, I ran.

  Between two stacks of lumber and then around the corner of them towards a third. I grasped the top of the pile and pulled myself up, swinging my legs over the side just as one of the Ferals leapt at me, its hands brushing my leg.

  Claw-like hands grasped the top of the stack as one tried to pull itself up after me and I stabbed down with the blade. A howl sounded but it didn’t let go. I waited until it pulled its head into range and then thrust my blade into its eye. It fell without another sound.

  More of the Ferals were gathering around the stacked lumber. More than I could possibly deal with and I reasoned that four of them was a respectable number to have killed solo. I coughed as I inhaled a mouthful of the thickening smoke and eyed the front doors.

  It was almost time. As soon as enough of them were inside, I’d make a run for the side door. I glanced back over my shoulder to reassure myself the way was clear and smiled. That smile faded at the roar that sounded and I looked over to see the leader pull itself through the broken door.