Lukas turned from the window and smiled sweetly at Rose. Dear Rose, so unlike the rest of the humans. You are a flame of goodness in a dark sea of monsters. He had watched her sleeping during the night, curled up in a blanket on a dusty chair. He saw there only kindness.
‘I am going now, Rose. You must promise to stay here until I come back for you.’
Rose looked at him, her large beautiful eyes glistening on the verge of tears. ‘Thank you so much Lukas. But—’ She hesitated and looked around at the empty room. ‘I’m supposed to just wait here for you?’
‘Yes, Rose. It is very important for you to stay calm and wait for me.’
Rose swallowed and clasped her hands to her chest. She nodded once and said, ‘Okay, I’ll wait.’ Then as Lukas was about to climb out the window she added, ‘Lukas?’
‘Yes?’
‘I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am for your help. Please come back.’
‘Rose.’ Lukas whispered her name. ‘Of course. And it is my pleasure to be able to return the favour to your brother. Elliot has saved me once and he is a good person. Now you must tell me again that you will stay here, no matter what.’
‘Sure. I’ll wait for you.’
Lukas slipped out the window onto the ladder and tested himself on the first few rungs. He smiled at yet another example of his new-found strength since embracing the monster within him.
He could climb.
CHRIS, Tuesday, 12 noon, autumn, 62 A. Z.
CHRIS HAD BEEN furious when told that the Blue had escaped. What idiots had let that happen? It was bad enough that the captive escaped his bonds and fled the prison, but how could anyone let a monstrously tall, one-armed, blue-skinned half-Dead sneak by them? There’d be consequences for those charged with looking after him. Meantime, he’d asked that the matter be dealt with discreetly, so as not to alarm the community. Dozens of highly trained guards had been dispatched to search out the Blue, with instructions not to tell anyone what they were looking for. Unfortunately, they had looked throughout the night and found nothing.
Now Chris looked at his lunch with distaste. He wasn’t hungry, and felt a terrible unease twist in his gut.
A guard entered the room without knocking. Chris snapped his head up, ready to protest at the interruption, but saw the man’s pale and terrified face, and stopped short.
‘Sir, there’s a problem.’
Chris’s eyes narrowed. ‘With the Blue or my son?’
The guard’s hands were shaking. ‘Corpses, sir, they’re in the City.’
Chris stood up. ‘How? Where? What do you mean the Corpses are in the City?’
‘We don’t know, sir, but they’re up on the buildings, in the kitchens and in one of the living areas.’
Chris brushed past the guard on his way to the door. ‘Come, show me,’ he ordered.
There were more guards milling around in the hallway. They were breathless and looked scared, as if they’d arrived to inform their Leader of danger but did not know how to proceed. One of the other City Leaders, his long robes dishevelled, ran into the hallway carrying a club. The weapon was spattered with a black oily substance, and had what appeared to be a small amount of flesh and hair sticking to it.
Chris’s jaw dropped. The guard had not been exaggerating. The Dead were truly in the City.
‘All right then, send word to drop some of the bridges.’ Chris knew he needed to take control. ‘Let’s gather all the Leaders and the Chief Guard and make a plan.’
The other Leader shook his head. ‘Okay, I’ll try, but—’
One of the guards coughed.
‘Yes?’ Chris barked.
‘Sir, the Chief Guard … He’s dead. It was awful. They were on him so fast, sir. Nothing could have helped him.’
Chris nodded. ‘Then find somebody else. Go! And, you—’ He pointed at the wide-eyed maid who stood wringing her hands, listening to the conversation. ‘Get my wife.’
Moments later Annette rushed into the hall, a look of distaste and anger on her face. ‘What’s going on?’
Chris shook his head. ‘Send out a bird to the Gunslingers. Have them come now. The City has been breached by the Dead. Then find Rose. I’ll get Jenny. Then all of you wait in my office.’
Chris ignored her questions and stalked out onto the outside decking. He could hear screams in the distance and see the less important bridges starting to be dropped. His world was dissolving, his City being torn down.
He took a moment to take in the reality of the situation.
He was their Leader and he would fight like one. This was his moment to prove himself, to show the people his bravery and dedication.
He turned and went back indoors to get his weapons.
KATIE, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
THE FOULNESS OF the derelict apartment I was hiding in mirrored my mood, but it gave me a perfect observation point for the City’s jail, and a view of a building that I assumed was some kind of living quarters. Despite being so close to the jail — just one building over — it still seemed impossible to find a way in. I kept watching, trying to find a pattern in the movements of the guards, desperately hoping to find a weakness in their security, but as each hour passed I became more and more despondent.
But then the horror started. A tall Corpse emerged from a hatch in the rooftop across from me. He was a gory fellow with no clothing, and charred from some previous encounter with fire. His nose, eyelids and lips had melted away, leaving just a thin layer of stretched mahogany-coloured skin on the rest of his face. Quite ugly, really. I stood up from the rotten loveseat I’d been using as a perch for my spying, and moved to another window for a better look.
The rain had been getting heavy throughout the morning, sometimes coming in sheets, but I could still clearly see the Dead’s long body as he walked around on the roof. Then I heard a scream, and five people carrying what looked like brooms and rakes burst out from another hatch on the building. They were shouting to each other and trying to close the heavy doors of the hatch, and didn’t see the Corpse on the rooftop until it was too late.
It grabbed the first man and sank its teeth into his cheek and eye, pulling off a chunk of flesh like a meat-eating bird. The man screamed and thrashed as the Corpse bit again, this time into the man’s throat. Several of his companions began to beat at the Corpse with their implements in the hope it would release its victim. Of course this never works. Astonishingly, though, the Corpse dropped the man’s body and just turned to grab one of its new attackers.
The rain must have made it slippery up on the roof because the two of them fell to their knees and rolled. The Corpse managed to bite a large chunk out of the man’s upper arm, but he frantically punched at the Corpse with his free hand, and again the Corpse released him, and stood up to hunt another victim.
I watched with grim fascination. Three more Deads popped up out of the hatch and began chasing the remaining people. By the time they had finished, the roof was covered in a pool of rainwater and blood, and the first victim was already beginning to have the seizures characteristic of conversion to a Zombie. The thrashing would probably carry on for a few hours and, when it ended, there would be a new Undead Corpse.
Why hadn’t the Zombies eaten the people on the roof? It was rare to see a bite-and-release as these Corpses were doing. Then it came to me: they weren’t eating the people because they were already full.
I ran for the door and then down the stairs. I needed to get to the prison and to Elliot before the Corpses did.
XAVIER, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
‘DO YOU HEAR that?’ Xavier asked. His senses were on full alert.
‘Yeah,’ Virgil said, peering through the bars of the gate. ‘And I think it has to do with all these Deads.’
Someone was screaming. The heavy rain and the general moaning of the Corpses on the road smothered the sound, but it was definitely a person.
‘Do you think it’s Mr Ding?’ Xavier asked, hoping it wa
sn’t. The sound was ghastly, like the cry of somebody scared for their life or in agony. ‘Should we go out there to see?’
Virgil shook his head. ‘No, definitely not. Something’s off and we’re going to have no part of it. We should get our weapons ready in case that trouble comes our way, but we’re not going to go looking for it.’
Xavier sat back down. The screaming had stopped. He asked again, ‘Who do you think that was?’
The Gunslinger had begun to clean his crossbow. He looked up at Xavier and said, ‘A woman or a child.’
An image of what might be happening in the City flashed through Xavier’s mind, and he worked hard to push it out. The people were supposed to be safe up on those big buildings. Had someone come down to ground level? Surely not, with the number of Corpses walking around.
Xavier looked around at the dismal concrete room that was for them both a life-saver and a trap. How long could they last in such a damp, cold place? They had plenty of water, but their food stores were already starting to run low. When Xavier had asked Virgil about what’d they do for food, he’d said they could eat his dead mare’s grain when the time came.
‘Virgil, when we are able to leave here, how are we going to do it? How are we getting back to Tree Sanctuary?’
The Gunslinger had finished cleaning his crossbow and had moved on to his machete. He answered without looking up. ‘We’ll have to walk out, move carefully, hide. It’s not going to be easy.’
Xavier had suspected as much.
‘Will we go up to the City to get some food before we go? And maybe another sleeping roll?’
Virgil looked at Xavier with a pained expression. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling—’
‘About what? You don’t think the City will help us?’
Virgil shook his head and looked out towards the lines of Corpses passing by. ‘No, when it’s time for us to get out of here, I don’t think there will be a City to help us.’
ROSE, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
THE ROPE BRIDGES were being dropped. Rose stared out the window, wondering why. Had Lukas rescued Elliot already, and the Guards were trying to stop them from getting out of the City? She felt a flutter of excitement, but it faded almost instantly. There was smoke in the distance, and flashes of flame were coming from the top floor of the building where the kitchens were. How could a fire get so out of control so quickly? Already the air was becoming bitter with ash, and the low rain clouds were holding down the heavy, black smoke.
BANG!
She spun around. The sound had come from the other side of the wall. She didn’t know what was behind there, but imagined it was some kind of hallway that connected all the other units. She and Oscar had planned to go exploring there, but had placed a large barricade in front of the door in the meantime. She walked over and placed her ear against the wall. There was a scraping noise and the sound of footsteps. Was it Elliot and Lukas trying to get in? Then there was a low moan and the sound of people walking — definitely more than two.
And then Rose made the connection, and it sent an icy feeling through her. There were Corpses in the hallway. Somehow they had got in. No, not somehow. Lukas must have let them in. That’s why he had made her promise to stay where she was. He had been trying to protect her from what would happen when he opened the doors to the buildings. He had obviously been planning this and had used Rose to help him.
Rose shuddered. Was she responsible for what was happening? Was the fire her fault? She looked out the window and felt her stomach twist with guilt. All she had ever wanted was to save Elliot. She had never imagined that the Blue would do something like this. It didn’t make any sense. She tried to think back to what Lukas had said, searching for his true intentions, but kept coming back to the question: why has he spared me? He had made her promise to stay in the hide-out, so he must have wanted to protect her from the Corpses. But why?
Perhaps it was all part of Lukas’s plan to get Elliot free. Even so, the cost was terrible. Through the window she could see people running on the next-door building. It was hard to make them out clearly in the rain, but she was sure one of them was covered in blood.
What was she supposed to do now? What could she do? Should she try to warn her parents and Jenny?
Rose sat down, hugged her knees to her chest and tried to stay calm. There were no answers to her questions, she realised. It was better to wait and hope that Elliot would soon be there. She, at least, was safe, so long as the barricade to her room held firm.
CHRIS, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
EITHER THE BAD weather or the time of day was making it hard to see. Chris and six guards had blindly hacked their way to the hospital to find one living, blood-smeared nurse and nothing else except death. He surveyed the remains of the hospital’s staff and patients, but didn’t linger, knowing he would find the pieces of his daughter, Jenny, amongst the severed limbs and chunks of meat. Annette had sent her here to be healed, to calm her hysteria. Now she was gone. He understood this instinctively, but there was no time to mourn. ‘I’m sorry, Jenny,’ he whispered, and moved on.
Chris and the guards were soaked through with rain and sweat, but they didn’t feel the cold. Chris felt more alive than he had in years, and he felt his blood rushing through his veins like a raging river. He would save the City. This was his time to make peace with his selfish decisions. It would purify him, ensure that any misguided actions in the past would not be the only ones to define his character.
The Corpses came quickly, relentlessly. They were much worse than Chris had imagined. Up close, they were ghastly: milky eyes and spongy skin made slimy from the rain mixed in with their own putrid oils. But it was the sound of them that bothered Chris the most. Their moans and strange gagging and clicking sounds filled his head and chilled his soul.
Fighting them wasn’t technical: just swing the sword quickly and aim for the base of the skull. It was tiring, though, and it seemed to never end. Chris and his guards fought their way inch by inch along the remaining rope bridges outside the hospital, trying to take out as many Corpses as they could, but they seemed to make barely a dent in the hordes that flowed up into the City. Vaguely, Chris acknowledged that they couldn’t fight like this forever, and were doing nothing to save the City itself.
As they fought around the hospital’s perimeter, they were joined by a couple of women from the City: a rough-looking woman in her thirties, and the remaining nurse at the infirmary, a tall Amazon named Fee. She carried a medical pack and fought more like a seasoned guard than a nurse. The first woman didn’t last long. She had seemed like a fighter, and had given Chris a nod when he’d asked if she could swing an axe. But she had overestimated her abilities. Her timing was out and she couldn’t read the Corpses’ movements. One sideswiped her and then another dragged her to the ground. She was a tangle of intestines and gore within moments. Chris saw it as a warning to himself: stay sharp and think clearly, or you’ll end up like her.
The night was coming quickly. They’d been fighting for too long and needed to fall back to a safe spot. The obvious place was his house. It was one of the few buildings where the underground floors had been double- and triple-locked, and not just with normal door locks or barricades. A Leader with foresight had padlocked the inside of the building many years before. Chris called out to the guards, and Fee, to start moving back to his house. He hoped they’d get there before the day’s light was completely gone. Under normal circumstances it would take only ten minutes to cover the distance. But with the rooftops covered in mobs of the Dead, and the remaining bridges blocked by roaming Corpses, they might be fighting their way home well into the dark.
They turned and moved back across the territory they’d already covered. Chris was shocked. Two fires burned on buildings in the distance; dismembered bodies dotted the streets in every direction; and the screams of terrified citizens punctuated the drone of the Dead. The devastation was irreversible, and Chris felt ill.
This battle was
no longer about protecting the City. This was now about personal survival and saving the lives of his family.
ELLIOT, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
HIS DREAMS OF Katie were a blissful escape, so he tried to sleep as much as possible. His waking moments were otherwise filled with longing for her, and with the pain that comes from a terrible sense of betrayal. His parents and the City Leaders had destroyed his happiness and planned to end his life. Strangely, he wasn’t afraid of execution in itself. That seemed almost impossible to imagine. His real fear was for Katie. Was she lonely? Had she been able to return to being a recluse, finding happiness in solitude, with nothing but her own thoughts and a library of books for companionship? Elliot hoped she’d be strong and not return to the dark mental places she said she had once been.
The day dragged on, and Elliot waited for his small plate of food to arrive through the slot in the door. No one came. He paced back and forth, then lay on the ground to peek through the small trapdoor. Maybe the plate hadn’t been pushed all the way through? Carefully, with his cheek to the floor, Elliot pushed the flap open and looked into the hall. No food. And no sound at all.
Elliot scanned the empty hallway again — there was no one on guard. He sat back from the door and fear coursed through him. Did that mean they were executing him tonight? He looked around the bleak room and hugged his arms across his chest.
No goodbye from my family, no last meal … He put his head onto his knees and cried.
LUKAS, Tuesday evening, autumn, 62 A. Z.
I HAD BEEN waiting for him. I wanted him to know what it felt like to lose everything and to be judged harshly. He had called me a monster, evil, worthy of nothing. Well, he was the monster and I wanted him to know that.
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