Constan took a deep breath and then bellowed, “All right boys and girls listen up. I need Scarius and Jirair front and center. You two, along with Athos, Damon, and myself hold this bloody hallway. The ladies will form a second line in the doorway of the Governor’s office. If things get too dicey, we’ll need to retreat through ye. Places everyone.”
Baltazar walked up to Constan and asked, “What about myself and Nasir?”
Constan inwardly cursed himself for the oversight, Forgot about those two. Will they be any good in a fight in their condition? Smiling he placed a hand on Baltazar’s shoulder and said, “I know ye can fight lad, but yeself and Dekanos Nasir are a mess. Ye need several days of proper food to get ye fighting form back.”
Baltazar’s nostrils flared and he retorted in a sharp tone, “We fought well enough before running into you.”
Constan nodded, “Aye, with Legion taking most of the pressure off ye. In your current state ye will exhaust easily. I need ye two in reserve. Ye know as well as I do that these bastards, will keep coming at us for hours. Stand behind the ladies for now. We will need you to carry the day when our strength ebbs.” Constan placed a hand on Baltazar’s shoulder, “Don’t worry lad, ye’ll get ye chance to fight soon enough.”
Baltazar nodded to Constan and walked up the hallway into the Governor’s office. He looked around the room for additional weapons or shields to help with the fighting. There were none apparent. Turning to Governor Maurice he asked, “Are there any weapons and shields up here in the other rooms?”
Governor Maurice shook his head and replied, “Unfortunately no. Do you think you’ll be able to hold off the damned with so few?”
Baltazar smiled at the Governor, “I faced much worse odds than this and survived.” He winked at Maarika, “As long as my angel continues to watch over me, we shall survive the day.”
Maarika put her hand up to hide her smile at Baltazar’s words. Nasir rolled his eyes at the line, and Liana looked confused at Baltazar’s words, What does he mean by that? Has he enjoyed the affections of another?
The entire second floor was filled with the loud banging as the damned continued to pound on the stout oaken door separating them from their feast. Curious Liana walked over to Baltazar and whispered to him, “What do you mean by angel watching over you?”
Baltazar took Liana into his arms and looked down into her eyes, “During my mission, when I thought all was lost, the damned began dying around me. Not by my own hand mind, but for some unexplainable reason.” Baltazar shuddered as his mind drifted back to the memory of that terrible night.
Liana felt the tension in his body and pulled him close, “Its ok. You’re not there anymore, you’re here with me. I need to know about the angel.”
The tension in Baltazar’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded, “Maarika saved me with her sling. At the time I didn’t realize why certain damned would fall dead at just the right moment for me to continue surviving. I really thought all was lost. I was the last survivor of the expedition, surround by the damned, and without hope. She gave me hope. Hope that I would survive that night. Hope that I would live to see this moment. The moment that you are in my arms once again. That hope, enabled me to run and escape.”
Liana smiled at his answer and kissed him. As they kissed Liana thought to herself, He’s been faithful to me. I feel bad for doubting him. When the kissed ended Liana said, “I see, then I should be grateful to her for bringing you home.”
Baltazar placed a hand on Liana’s cheek and nodded, “No worries luv, Maarika and Nasir love each other deeply. Almost as much as I love you.”
Liana smiled at this. Their love burning brightly, the couple kissed again. They ignored the world around them as they reignited their passion for one another.
The make shift battering ram struck the door again and this time a loud cracking could be heard as the wood began to give way, “Get ready.” Constan said from his position behind Athos, Jirair, and Scarius as the three men stood shoulder to shoulder across the broad hallway. Athos and Scarius, on either side of Jirair, held the only two shields the group possessed. Damon, standing beside Constan, drew his Spatha.
Jirair, his voice cracking a bit, said, “I’ve never faced the damned in a line without a shield.”
Constan replied, “No worries lad. Athos and Scarius will focus on blocking the damned while you concentrate on killing them. If ye get into trouble either I or Damon will step forward and save ye.”
“Will we be expected to hold this hallway indefinitely?” Jirair asked.
“No, we will slowly retreat down the hallway toward the line of ladies as the slain damned pile up in front of us.” Constan replied.
Before Constan could continue with his reply to Jirair the door was struck again with the battering ram. With a loud crack the door gave way and the ram smashed through the bar holding it in place. For a moment they all stared at the cracked and pitted column as it seemed to hover in mid-air before them. The damned holding it remained in the dark hallway, shrouded in shadows. Released by the damned, the column fell to the floor with a loud thump.
Oddly the damned did not go charging in. Instead they all cried out in unison. A low whisper at first and then it steadily built louder and louder. As their voices reached a deafening unholy crescendo, they charged. Athos and Scarius took a step forward and smashed their shields into the first two of the charging damned to emerge from the shadows beyond the doorway. The blow from their shields knocked the undead horrors back.
As Athos and Scarius were busy with their opponents, Jirair was left facing a single damned. It was a little girl. The girl, newly damned, showed little evidence of her affliction as she slipped in-between the two Skutatoi and launched herself at Jirair. Moving quickly, he brought his Spatha up into a defensive position in front of him and angled the point of his blade toward the girl’s head. Unable to arrest her momentum the girl’s skull slammed into the waiting blade and she became forever dead.
Athos pushed his opponent, a lean formerly middle aged Skutatoi, toward the corner and brought his Spatha down on his head cleaving it in half. He turned just as another damned emerged from the doorway. On Jirair’s other side Scarius blocked his opponent, another former Skutatoi, but lacked the room to bring his blade to bare. There was no need. As Jirair pulled his blade free of the girl’s skull he had an opening and plunged his blade into the side of Scarius’ undead opponent.
Three damned had fallen to their blades in the first few seconds of the fight. Athos, now to the left of the doorway, smashed his shield into the fourth damned as it emerged into the hallway. Scarius, thanks to Jirair, now had enough room to swing his Spatha and brought it down onto the head of the damned Athos had blocked.
With a crunching noise the damned’s skull collapsed and its brain matter flew in every direction covering the three combatants and the walls in a sickly purple ooze. Within the first five seconds of battle the trio had felled four of the damned. They took a step back beyond the four bodies to their original positions so that their legs would not become entangled in their former opponents.
Constan’s hastily contrived plan, did not take into consideration one wild card, Legion. When the sounds of battle reached his ears, Legion let out a mighty bellow and charged down the hallway. Damon tried to restrain the lumbering giant as he ran toward the damned. Legion, carelessly smacked him to the side. As Damon lost his balance from the blow, his head struck the wall and he fell unconscious.
Legion continued running and ignored the four men between himself and the damned. Screaming in rage he hurled himself into the midst of the undead. Drawing his gladius, he began to exact a terrible vengeance upon Fonda’s minions as they poured into the hallway.
The four men stood and watched as Legion and the damned fought. Purple ichor mixed with Legion’s own red blood seemed to rain in the hallway. Losing patience with the delay Fonda entered the hallway to see what the hold-up was. She gasped as she saw Legion, “Brother?”
&
nbsp; Upon hearing Fonda’s voice clearly Legion ceased his merciless assault on the damned. Taking advantage of the pause a dozen of Fonda’s minions bit into Legion’s flesh. They covered his immense form with bites and began to feed. Ignoring the pain Legion replied, “Sister?”
Not believing her ears Fonda asked, “Leonidas?”
Inexplicably the damned attacking Legion, stopped. As one they spat out the bits of Legion’s flesh in their mouths. Mysteriously the flesh, which a moment ago had tasted amazingly good, changed taste and became putrid and horrible to them. As if it were the flesh of one of their own that they consumed.
Stunned by this turn of events Constan’s group stood by and watched. Some of the damned that were focused on Legion turned and faced Constan and his group, but made no further moves. Fonda stepped around Legion’s form, who was still held fast by a half dozen of the damned. She looked up at him, smiled, and said “It is you brother.”
Tears began to run down Legion’s cheeks, “I thought you had died, all of you. Mom, Dad, my beloved Stefania.” His voice trailed off and he began to weep.
Fonda waved off her minions holding Legion in place and put her arms around him. At least as far around him as they would go. She rested her head in his long beard and said, “We all did die. I can’t explain it but when I rose again, as one of the hungry, I was able to unlock my mind. To push the hunger away and become myself again.”
While the siblings conversed, the remainder of the damned that had been holding Legion, took up positions between Fonda, Legion, and the living warriors, Constan, Athos, Jirair, and Scarius. Shocked at this turn of events Constan asked, “Why don’t the beasties attack?”
His question was met with silence from the rest of his group. As they stood by and watched the reunion unfold beyond the wall of the damned. Legion stunned to silence over Fonda’s revelation finally said, “Why are you leading the evil? What happened to that sweet girl that wanted to marry? This isn’t you sister.”
As the conversation continued, Nasir and Baltazar came forward. Baltazar examined Damon and said to Nasir, “It looks like he is just out cold. Let’s get him back to the Governor’s office.
Fonda looked down at the ground for a moment, ashamed at what she had become. Her mind was filled with images from her past. Her childhood and the time she had spent growing up with Leonidas. Their parents and some of the times they had gotten in trouble together. The thoughts were fleeting and her heart quickly hardened with the evil that had consumed it, “You don’t understand the hunger brother. The people have sinned against God and must pay the most unholy of penance for their actions.”
Legion grasped Fonda’s shoulders and with his large hands, pushed her to arms-length. For the first time he saw her for what she was. Milky white eyes, gray maggot ridden skin full of rot, and purple veins. Her mouth dripped red with the blood of the victims she had consumed that day. Unable to deny what his eyes were revealing to him he began to weep. The shock of what Fonda had become caused his entire body to start shaking. With his legs, no longer able to hold him, he collapsed to the floor.
Legion’s innards churned at the thoughts that ran through his mind. Unable to hold in his feast, he vomited it onto the floor at Fonda’s feet. Wiping his chin, he looked up at the heavens and asked, “Why God, why? Was it not enough that you took them all away from me? No, you had to twist my sister into the unholy visage that now stands before me. Thanks to you my sister is leading this perverse army of the damned. How can a merciful God be so callous? You and Satan can both be damned. You deserve each other.”
Fonda circled around Legion until she was behind him. Wanting to comfort him, she wrapped her arms around Legion’s neck from behind and hugged him as he continued to sob, “Leonidas, brother, it’s still me.”
Legion, stood, turned and faced Fonda, “If it is truly you sister, despite your.” Legion paused and took a deep breath trying to suppress the urge to sob, “Changes, then stop this. You can control these damned. Make them go away, far away. Teach them to feed on animals.” Legion gestured in the direction of his friends, “Spare my friends and however many of the people of Damascus still draw breath.”
Fonda looked down at her feet, and then up at Legion her chin quivered as she spoke the words, “I cannot. It has been ordained, my children must feed. They must rend and tear at the flesh of the living and swallow the sweet meat until their hunger is at last sated.”
A single tear ran down Legion’s cheek. He looked up to the heavens imploringly, Please God, if there is the smallest shred of compassion left in you, even a dying ember. Let me wake up from this horrible nightmare, or strike me down right now, the pain is too great. His appeal was met with silence. Unable to bare the pain of the revelations of this day have caused. Legion’s mind shut down.
“Brother?” Fonda prompted.
She was met with silence as Legion continued to stare off into space. Callously Fonda said, “I was always the stronger one. I guess you couldn’t handle the truth.”
Fonda turned and made eye contact with Constan who, along with the other three men Athos, Jirair, and Scarius, were standing at the ready beyond the line of the damned facing them. She pointed at Constan and Athos with her left and right arms extended, and exclaimed, “Feed my children!”
A cacophony of sounds issued forth from the throats of the damned as they charged the four men. Moving quickly Athos and Scarius brought there shields up to block the damned, as they pushed up the hallway toward their thin line of defense. Constan, furious at the turn of events, drew his Spatha. In the same fluid motion, he took a step toward the damned. This placed himself a few feet in front of the other three men. He then swung his blade at neck level across the breath of the hallway in front of him.
His timing was perfect. The mighty blow severed the heads of three of the damned. As their still animated heads tumbled to the floor, the damned behind them trod over their now lifeless corpses. Constan stabbed his Spatha into the lead damned, an elderly baker judging by the flour stains on his apron. The blade easily sliced into the baker’s forehead and he joined his three companions in a growing pool of purple blood on the floor.
Having slain four damned in the space of three seconds, Constan stepped back and allowed Athos and Scarius to take the charge from the surviving two damned in the second line. With Jirair’s assistance the three men were able to slay the next two undead in short order. As the fighting continued in the hallway, Fonda stood by Legion who continued to stare off into space in a catatonic state.
Battle raged as the four men fought valiantly to hold off Fonda’s horde. Fighting as a team, the four veterans, slowly withdrew up the hallway as the damned continued their relentless assault. The warriors sold each foot of that hallway dearly to the advancing undead. As a result, the cold stone floor became slick with purple ooze and covered in the guts and bodies of hundreds of fallen corpses. At times the four men slew the damned so quickly that the very air itself began to look purplish from the misting blood.
Finally, fatigue began to take its toll on the brave survivors. Running out of room to retreat, they were forced to stand their ground. Jirair, took a step forward to dispatch one of the damned that Scarius had pinned to the right wall of the hallway with his shield. He had but a second to strike before another of the undead tore into his exposed left side. Scarius saw the danger and yelled, “Jirair to your left!”
Jirair’s blade struck true and entered the head of his target through the right ear. As he spun around to face the attacker that Scarius had warned him about, he slipped on the stone floor, slick with the purple blood of the fallen damned. Surprised by his loss of footing as he fell, he exclaimed, “No!”
Jirair’s posterior struck the stone floor and he let out a loud, “Umph.” Instantly he rolled to his right to avoid the attacking damned, now diving at his head. Constan, seeing the danger to Jirair, took a step forward and brought the blade of his Spatha down toward the diving damned. With perfect timing Constan’s bla
de sliced into the head of Jirair’s attacker.
Unfortunately, the now forever dead corpse, still had momentum and crashed into Jirair. As Jirair tried to stand up he became tangled in the former damned’s limbs, unable to rise. Another of Fonda’s minions dove at Jirair. Once again Constan brought his blade down in the nick of time and slew the attacker.
As Jirair struggled to get two corpses off of him, so that he could get to his feet, he thrashed out with his legs. Unbeknownst to him, his left leg stuck out from the pile. A little boy, who had been holding back as the adults struggled, finally saw his opportunity. Weaving his way between the legs of his much larger brethren, he reached Jirair’s squirming left leg and bit down.
Feeling a bite on his left leg Jirair cried out, “I’m bit.”
Constan, who couldn’t see the boy, and had just slain the third damned to attempt a diving attack on Jirair asked, “How can ye be bit? I’ve killed all of the beasties trying to feed on ye.”
Constan paused, looked around, and finally saw the little boy feeding on Jirair’s leg. He made eye contact with the child as he chewed on a piece of Jirair’s calf. The boy smiled at Constan. The visage of the boy’s red teeth and bits of Jirair’s flesh clearly visible on his tongue as he chewed made Constan sick to his stomach.
Enraged at the sight, Constan lunged forward with his Spatha and tried to strike the boy. The boy scampered backward and the blade passed harmlessly in front of him. This thoughtless lunge, caused Constan to become tangled in Jirair’s pile and he fell forward. Seeing another opportunity to swell the ranks of his kind, the little boy darted forward to bite Constan.
As the distance between Constan and the hungry boy went from feet to inches, the boy opened his mouth. Thoughts of biting into the mop of salt and pepper hair in front of him filled his mind with anticipation. Constan, finally getting his balance, began to push himself up. As he did so he looked forward into the lifeless milky white eyes of the charging boy, who was mere inches from his face.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 59
