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Killing The Dead | Book 23 | Come The End

Page 2

by Murray, Richard


  I knew who he was, what he was. Danger was drawn to him or he to it, and where he went chaos and death followed. He would not stand idly by and watch that danger approach, he would face it head-on and with the cold, deadliness of the killer that he was.

  Still, the thought of him leaving and not returning terrified me and I couldn’t, no, I wouldn’t, allow him to leave us. Not again.

  “Do you think he is going to say something anytime soon?” Charlie asked, glancing down at her watch. “I have things to do.”

  “You don’t have to stay to listen,” Gregg pointed out with a grin. God, I had missed my friend's smile.

  “Yeah, well you try pushing through that crowd in a wheelchair, dude. Not fun. Need them to piss off so I can get back to work.”

  And so much work there was. Raiders, Sebastian and his devotees, the Parasites and a thousand and one more problems that arose each and every day. Though, it had to be said, dealing with Ryan being seen as the new messiah was not a problem I had foreseen having to deal with when I woke up yesterday and the world was grey and dull, but very normal.

  “Stand up.”

  Two words, muffled by the glass of the window that had me straining to hear, but filled with such command that I felt myself twitch, and had to resist the urge to stand up straighter. It was not the voice of my love, my heart, it was the voice of the killer, of death itself and the crowd heard it.

  Hell, they likely felt it send a shiver down their spine as the primal monkey part of the brain that was pure instinct screamed at them to obey or be devoured by the predator they faced. It was a voice that could evoke fear in a way few others could.

  Most of the crowd had moved to stand without even realising they were reacting, and there were many confused glances being shared in that ever-growing mass of people. The quickest to obey were his followers, those black-garbed cultists who had all, at one point, cut off their own little finger as penance for disappointing him.

  “Samuel.”

  My heart thundered in my chest at the anger laced in his voice as he spoke that name, and his most loyal follower and believer took a step forward from the black-garbed crowd.

  Unlike the others, he wore no hood. His face was bare to the world, all sharp angles with deep pits that housed eyes as full of crazy as any I had ever seen. His black hair stuck out from his head in spiked clumps, seeming to resist any attempt to brush it.

  Rail thin and with a manic energy, he was the first believer, the one who had converted so many others and who wore his faith in Ryan openly, for all the world to see. In the years since I had first met him in Glasgow, he had become a firm friend and a favoured ‘uncle’ to my children.

  “This can’t be good,” I muttered, a troubling feeling sending a chill running through me.

  Samuel, it seemed, had the same impression for he pulled free a knife from the sheath on his belt as he approached his beloved leader. I sucked in a breath, holding it as I tensed, prepared for violence but Samuel just held the blade in his hand and looked my beloved in the eyes.

  “I failed you.”

  “Yes.”

  Christ! That voice, colder than ice and yet full of fury. He was keeping himself tightly under control and my eyes flicked towards Gregg who chewed his lip, dark eye hooded as he absently touched the place on his abdomen where Ryan had stabbed him.

  “My life is yours.”

  “It always was.”

  “Of course.”

  There was a shifting from the crowd, a breathless anticipation of the violence they expected. I gripped tightly to Cass’s hand, wanting to run out, to stop him from doing what he was about to do. I couldn’t though, my feet wouldn’t move, for we were standing on a precipice and the wrong move could send us teetering over the edge and into the dark chasm below.

  “My family…” I had no idea how Samuel could stand before such rage he must-see in my lover’s eyes and not flinch. “Your duty was to protect them.”

  “It was.”

  “This can not go unpunished.”

  “My life, my death, belong to you. Speak only the word and I shall plunge this blade into my own heart.”

  No! That would be absolutely the worst thing that could happen. If he did that, I had no idea how those cultists would react, or how the other people would. Word would get back to the island, that failure meant death and fear would rule.

  “Don’t,” Gregg whispered, as I took a step towards the door.

  “He can’t-“

  “Trust in him. It was a difficult time and he’s not the same as he was.”

  I wanted to believe that but as the moment dragged on, Ryan not moving his gaze from the knife Samuel held, fingers wrapped so tightly around the hilt that they were white, I just couldn’t. I needed to stop it before a mistake was made.

  “Death is not a punishment for you,” Ryan said, voice still cold but somehow less threatening, and I paused, heart racing.

  “My Lord?”

  “What are we?”

  “We are the Dead,” his followers chanted in one voice.

  “How can death be a punishment for those already dead?”

  There was no answer to be had and I swayed, seeing that precipice edge narrow even further as the man I loved, the man I had thought long dead, spoke his judgment.

  “You are denied death. From this day forth, you will watch those who follow you die in service to my cause. You will tend their wounds and train their minds and bodies for the fight that you will not be permitted to join.”

  A tremble ran through Samuel, moisture glistening on his cheeks, and I stared, mouth agape as I failed to understand what was happening.

  “My Lord, I beg-“

  “No.”

  It was a word spoken with such finality that it rang with the sound of an iron door being slammed shut on a cage. Samuel, feeling that cage around himself, one that would keep him safe for the rest of his days, fell to his knees and bowed his head.

  “I don’t understand,” Cass whispered.

  “Me neither.” Or perhaps I did. But it was so strange seeing a sentence of life being used as punishment with such great effect. “Not sure what it means, but I don’t think we will have a riot because of it.”

  Ryan, his judgement given, took a step to cross the distance between the two of them and reached down, gripping Samuel’s shoulders, and pulling him to his feet. He looked deeply into the older man’s eyes and held his gaze for what seemed an eternity before giving one sharp nod.

  That was it.

  Like some signal had been given that I could not hear, Samuel sheathed the blade and nodded in reply as the cultists relaxed visibly. They were happy with the decision. I couldn’t fathom why that bunch of maniacs did much of anything they did, but that made even less sense than normal.

  “What just happened?”

  “They’re happy that Samuel is alive, but they needed to see him punished.” I glanced at Gregg, who shrugged his shoulders. “You can learn a lot travelling with one of those cultists. Weird bunch, but they are true believers.”

  Which meant that life truly was a punishment in their mind. For the Dead, they existed to fight the zombies or other threats to the innocents of the world, and that was their only purpose. In their minds, they had already died, and they were just waiting for their bodies to catch up.

  To be refused that rest they craved, that journey into the final darkness, that was indeed a punishment for them. To be commanded by the one you revered to stay alive for potentially decades to come would be torture far greater than any that could be worked with a cold blade on soft flesh.

  How the hell had Ryan known that would work? He clearly had no idea, or at the very least didn’t care, about the psychology of people but I had just witnessed him using it to great effect. His people would be, if even possible, more loyal to him than they were before.

  Which meant that the problem of his return from the dead would be even greater.

  “Damn it, Ryan,” I whispered.
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  Chapter 3

  They stared at me with the empty gaze of the sheep that I believed them to be. Not a breath exhaled, not a cough nor a sniffle to break that silence as I cast my gaze over them, judging them and finding them wanting.

  That rage, that unadulterated fury that had sustained me throughout my journey had faded in Lily’s presence, but right then, the fools that had failed to protect my family, that had found themselves in a trap and caught between two raider groups with no escape. They had reignited that flame of rage and it was all I could do to not let it consume me.

  My eyes rested for a moment on the group of women, watching with bemused expressions, on the edge of the crowd. I reminded myself that my fury had been given form and the rage calmed, not much, but enough that I could speak without concern that I would command them all to die on their own blades.

  “This world is full of monsters.” No one moved, no one spoke. They just watched. “Few of the undead, the Scourge, remain.”

  Fewer still when the vaccine that Briony had created was tested and given out to the survivors of the world. There would come a day soon enough when the last zombie would die. I could only hope it was beneath my blade.

  “New monsters have arisen, a different, more dangerous type of monster. One that looks like those amongst the Living that you are sworn to protect.”

  Something they had failed to do. My hands clenched into fists and a tremble ran through me as I fought for control. The icy rage in my voice was clear to all who could hear, I was sure.

  “Today you will rest.” That confused them, a few hooded glances and some shifting of weight as the crowd showed that confusion. “Tomorrow, your training will begin anew.”

  I wanted to laugh, to mock their confusion but I held back, knowing that if I let loose my control even for that, there was no telling what I would do to them. I needed for them to die, my body ached with the need to kill them all.

  But I couldn’t. Their loyalty was mine and I could use that to protect my family. All I had to do was ensure they were capable of the task. Something I had thought they already were, but the events that Lily had recounted of Sebastian’s rise and takeover of the island had proven that they were not nearly up to it.

  “You are dead, and the world of the living is forever denied you while you serve, and serve you shall. You will be the shield and the knife, protectors of the people you can never be part of in a way that you were not able to before.”

  When they considered themselves dead. It wasn’t enough, I realised that now, they needed a reason to continue the fight since the zombies had been dying off. The raiders were a good enough target.

  “You exist to serve the living, to keep them safe so that they can enjoy that life you left behind. With the Scourge almost defeated, new monsters have taken their place and you will hunt them down and slay them so that none need fear any of them.”

  They seemed to stand a little straighter, their chins raised as that renewed sense of purpose sank into the empty space in their heads where logic and reason should be. I forced down my sneer as I swept my gaze across them.

  If they wanted words of praise, they would not have it. They had not earned them and even if they had, I cared little for what they wanted so long as they served me.

  “Go, rest and tend your wounds. Tomorrow we will begin.”

  They dispersed immediately, leaping to obey my words and I watched them go through narrowed eyes. The crowd parted for them, though those people stayed to watch, sure that the show was not yet over.

  “My Lord-“

  “Once and once only,” I snapped, not looking at Samuel. “Your next failure had best be your last for you will not survive my anger a second time.”

  “I swear my life and my soul to you, My Lord Death. You have returned to lead us once more in the great battle and I shall not fail you again.”

  The approach of the group of women saved me from the need to offer a reply to his empty promise and I turned my attention on them fully. I drew in a breath and forced my face to stillness as they stopped a metre or more from me at the sight of my glare, wary glances shared between them as they each waited for another to speak first.

  “What?” My already thin patience was stretched to breaking. “Speak up.”

  “Ryan!” Her voice was like a balm to my rage and I felt the tension leaving me as she stepped up beside me and rested one graceful hand upon my arm. “Who are your companions?”

  She studied the five women, face open and welcoming in a way that mine could never be. Her gaze took in their worn and tattered clothes, their too thin forms and the dark stains of battle that covered them.

  They, in turn, studied her and I was sure that all five of them saw more than I could ever see, or even recognise. Lily’s eyes glistened as she seemed able to sense the pain and darkness that clung to my Furies like a cloak of shadow.

  “You have been through much,” she said, voice soft and gentle as though she were wary of startling them into flight. “Know that whatever you have endured, you are safe here and any aid we can provide, we shall do so gladly.”

  Dark of hair and eye, Two cocked one brow at that and gave a mocking half-grin as her eyes flicked from Lily to me.

  “I would not have guessed she would be like this.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to Lily and stepping forward, grubby hand outstretched. “I’m, Two.”

  To her credit, Lily didn’t hesitate as she grasped that hand firmly, her smile warm, as she cocked her head and laughed.

  “An odd name, how did you come by it?”

  All five of my Furies looked at me and Lily turned her head, wry amusement in her eyes as she turned her inquiring look upon me. I had a sudden and strange urge to explain myself and pushed that aside with a scowl that did nothing to lessen her smile.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You couldn’t be bothered learning their names and didn’t expect them to live long enough for you to remember them anyway. Am I right?”

  They all laughed at my deepening scowl and it was Lily who playfully patted my arm, pulling me a little closer, just enough that I could feel the heat of her skin, and fill my senses with that aroma of rose-scented soap that clung to her.

  “Please,” she continued turning her smile away from me. “There is no need to use any name but the one you choose.”

  Her smile faltered as they, once again, looked at me. I shifted my weight from one leg to another as I pulled away from the woman who so stilled that rage within my breast. I needed to cling to that rage, for it was all that I had and without it, I was an empty shell devoid of purpose.

  “Ryan?”

  “They chose to obey.”

  A soft sigh, followed by, “what do you mean?”

  “I offered them a choice.” I didn’t need to look at her to see the furrowed brow. “They could find somewhere safe or they could have revenge against those who hurt them. They chose revenge.”

  Lily pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing shut her eyes and muttering something I couldn’t quite hear. A great deal had been left out of our conversation the night before and I was pretty sure that might have been a mistake.

  “How many died?”

  “I don’t kno-“

  “Eleven,” Two said. “But they died free and fighting back against the people who had hurt them. That means something.”

  “I’m sure-“

  “No.” A bare hint of the rage that filled the young woman showed on her face as she cut Lily off, heat filling her voice as her cheeks flamed. “You have no idea what it was like for us. There were nights when we prayed for death that never came, just to escape that pain and misery!”

  The other women were nodding in agreement, faces hard as they glared.

  “He saved us. He gave us purpose. He trained us.” Each word was punctuated with a finger pointed directly at me. “He was the first person in a long time that gave us a choice and we chose to follow him.”

  Lily remained silent for
several long seconds after the young woman had finished. Her mouth was set in a thin line and I could well imagine the words she would be sharing with me once we were alone.

  “Very well,” she said finally. “You made that choice of your own free will and we will respect it. Feel free to don hoods and join the rest of the Dead.”

  “We ain’t doing that!” Two replied with a snort of laughter. “No chance.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “We’re not members of that weird bloody cult.” Her eyes flicked to Samuel standing silently nearby. “No offence.”

  “None taken.”

  “Look, Emma was nice and all, but she had weird ideas about things and, to be honest, none of that means much to us. We don’t think he’s the next bloody messiah or whatever, we just want him to do what he promised.”

  “Which is what?” Lily’s cocked brow was turned on me and I managed a weak grin.

  “The death of all those raiders that hurt us!”

  “Not much then,” Lily murmured, not taking her eyes from mine. “We shall find a house for you to stay in.”

  “They will sleep with the Dead,” I said before Two could reply. “They will be joining the training.”

  “We will?”

  “Yes.”

  “Training?”

  I was smart enough not to reply but from the way her eyes narrowed, and lips pursed, she was definitely piling up the questions in her mind that would be asked when we were alone.

  “For the moment, do as Samuel tells you,” I said. “He will get you food and clean clothes. Better selection of weapons too.”

  “As you command, My Lord Death.”

  Samuel gestured for the women to follow him and set off without questioning my orders. Two shot me a dark look but followed after him, Three, Five, Seven and Eight right behind her. I risked a glance at Lily who watched me, those beautiful eyes of her full of questions.

  “Later,” I promised. “We still have much to discuss.”

  Like did she had a lover I needed to kill? Would I be exiled to a house of my own somewhere in the rundown village she had made into a home?

 

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