“What is it?” Cass called as she came running, Evie, close behind.
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Ryan, who else?” I snapped.
The two women exchanged glances that could mean anything and it was Evie who stepped forward, speaking softly as though afraid she might startle me.
“Something’s wrong, what’s happened?”
I could barely see through my rage, let alone explain, but the white sashed woman retrieved the crumpled paper and unfolded it before passing it over to my friends. Evie read it in silence and then, eyes wide, passed it to Cass who glanced at it, her mouth falling open as she read.
“Oh fuck,” Cass said, then looked up at me. “You didn’t agree to this?”
“No!”
“You were asleep,” she said. “We all knew you needed your rest and just... assumed, that he had cleared it with you.”
“He did not.” I sucked in a deep breath, trying my damnedest to find some calm. “Has he already left?”
“Yes, an hour ago.”
I closed my eyes and exhaled. An hour. He had left just an hour ago and whatever fool thing he was planning was already well in motion.
“Which way?”
“The north road.”
I would need a weapon and some help. There was no point in me heading out on my own, that would be just as bloody foolish as what he had done.
“I’m going to kill him,” I muttered. “Seriously, I will kill him as soon as he gets back.”
“You think he will be back then?” Evie asked, glancing at Cass. “That’s a good sign.”
“If you think he’ll be back, why are you so angry?” Cass asked cautiously.
“Because I was just about to tell him that he didn’t need to hang back here,” I snapped back. “Instead, I find out that he’s gone off anyway!”
“But...” Cass wore a confused look as she sought the right words. “If you were going to release him from whatever promise he made, why does it matter?”
“It matters because I wanted him to know that I believed in him!” It was bloody unfair! Just as I had found some personal growth, he had gone and removed any chance of me showing it to him. “I’m bloody well pissed off because I would have gone with him.”
My friends didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at, but it made sense to me. How could he know that I believed in him now? As soon as he got back, I would tell him I was fine with him leaving for whatever devious task he had in mind, and it would sound hollow, like I was only saying it to save face.
It had sucked the wind completely out of my sails, so to speak, and while I was fully aware of how irrational it sounded and how disproportionate my anger was, it meant something to me.
“Damn him,” I whispered as I headed for the door.
Cass and Evie followed me out into the chill evening air. A light drizzle had begun to fall and I paused by the garden gate, looking out at the road.
“Something’s different.”
“What do you mean?” Cass asked.
“Where are the trucks?”
Again, they exchanged looks and I was starting to become irritated with that.
“They left an hour ago.”
Same time as Ryan. Which meant his plan was connected to them in some way. Two decoy wagons and one containing people and supplies.
“How many did he take with him?”
“No one.” Evie that time. “His weirdo cultists are here, standing guard.”
What the hell was he thinking? How he planned on doing anything by himself, I didn’t know, but I would bloody well find out when I caught up with him. I pushed down my anger and hurried towards the south wall.
Samuel and Isaac both stood together by the gate, unperturbed by the zombie reaching through in some attempt to grab at them even though they stood several feet beyond its reach. They were speaking quietly and stopped as I approached.
“My Lady.”
“Lass,” Isaac said by way of greeting.
“I need some people.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I’m going after Ryan.”
The two exchanged a look and I stamped my foot, almost petulantly.
“Stop that! Just speak if you have something to say.”
“We can’t send anyone after him,” Samuel said softly, tilting his head to the gate and the road beyond. “Our time has run out.”
I looked past him and out through the bars of the gate. There, on the road beside the trees, bathed in the ruby red glare of a road flare, stood an imposing figure wearing the familiar raider armour and helmet, though his had a skull covering the face.
“Are his eyes glowing?” I asked, and no one answered. It didn’t matter. “What are they doing?”
“Waiting,” Samuel said. “For what, we don’t know but they have made their presence known. They will not allow us to leave.”
“The other roads?”
“No doubt similar forces are converging on us along those routes too.”
“Then the trucks that left here...”
“Almost certainly taken by them,” Samuel finished for me. “All three of them.”
There was nothing I could say in response to that. Whatever plan Ryan had set in motion had failed. All three trucks taken and the people inside most likely killed in a horrible manner. I closed my eyes at the thought of it and swayed, only to find Cass’s firm grip on my arm, helping me stand upright.
“When all three groups get here, they’ll attack won’t they?”
“Aye, lass.”
Behind that imposing figure, the shadows held a great many raiders. From those I could see, there were more in that one group than we had fighters in the whole village. If the other groups were of similar size, we would be wiped out.
“I wish some of our people could have made it out,” I whispered, anger fading along with any hope I had harboured. “How many went in the trucks?”
“They were full,” Isaac said, not looking at me. “Well, aside from the one that went south.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said that was the decoy one and only had the driver in it.”
“Who was the driver?” I asked, suspicion clouding my tone.
“A volunteer,” Samuel replied, face giving nothing away.
“Oh hell,” I whispered. “He planned this, didn’t he?”
“What do you mean?” Cass asked, looking as confused as I felt.
“Where’s Gregg?”
“He’s...” she looked around as though searching for him. “I don’t know.”
“What about his Furies?”
“They’re... I’ve not seen them for a while, lass.”
I glanced over at the cultists, dressed all in black, with their faces covered by their hoods. Every other time I had seen them, they had looked ready to fight. Even when at rest, which was rare to see anyway.
But those by the gate, while looking the part, didn’t have the air of menace that I was used to seeing. That silent confidence that only a true believer could possess. When they walked, they emulated their beloved bloody messiah, stalking from one place to another like some great jungle cat.
Samuel’s eyes glinted with suppressed humour as he met my gaze and then, with great care to ensure I noticed, he slowly winked.
I began to laugh, Cass, Evie and Isaac looking at me as though I had gone mad. I didn’t care though, they hadn’t seen the joke. They didn’t know the punchline was coming. Not like Samuel did, as I did.
We had a chance.
I laughed all the harder.
Chapter 29
“Bloody hell!” Gregg cursed softly as the wagon hit a pothole, one corner of the heavy vehicle dipping down and almost scraping us off against the surface of the road. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”
I just answered him with a grin and pulled myself a little closer to the steel frame of the wagon, the leather straps holding me in place pinching my skin when I moved. I
t was not a comfortable ride by any means, strapped beneath the wagon, far too close to the rear axle for comfort.
“Don’t know why we can’t ride in the back of the truck like everyone else,” he grumbled.
My friend didn’t seem to be enjoying his trip beyond the walls of the village and I couldn’t quite remember when he had lost his sense of adventure. Sure, there would be some danger, but a lot of fun too.
The letter I had left Lily explaining what I was doing would have to be enough for her to forgive me when I got back. If not, well, that was the price I would pay for saving my family. Something that I could not possibly have done from inside the walls.
As for why we were strapped beneath a wagon travelling along the north road away from the village was simple. I didn’t want to be seen. If I were right, then we would be facing an enemy who could well have been watching the village. If they saw me climbing into the back of the open-top wagon, or leaving the village, I had no doubt that the enemy would swarm us.
If I was wrong, all it had cost me would be an uncomfortable journey. But, if I was right, then it confirmed what the prisoner had told me and gave me a focus for my rage.
“We’re slowing!” Gregg muttered, breathing quickening as adrenaline rushed his system.
I held back my smile and closed my eyes, enjoying the rush that ran through me. My weapons were attached to my belt and I ached to use them, to feel the clash of steel on steel before slicing through flesh. It was a feeling unlike any other and I almost trembled with anticipation.
The wagon slowed to a complete stop and there were some shouted questions and answers that I couldn’t quite make out. The people huddled together in the back of the wagon knew their part to play and would be cowering in fear, not giving any reason for the raiders to think them a threat.
I grinned then.
Booted feet came into view as I twisted my head, looking towards the front of the wagon. The clang of a steel blade being slapped against the side of the wagon as a shouted order was given for everyone to climb down.
A fool to treat his weapon in such a cavalier manner. It was a tool meant for killing, not for bashing against any random thing. More boots, the scrape of metal on leather as their breastplates shifted with every movement, the craftsmanship not quite as impressive as it might appear to be to the smaller groups of survivors they terrorized.
No real idea of the numbers, not that it mattered. I unbuckled the straps holding me in place and dropped to the cracked tarmac of the road, ignoring the weeds and the ants that swarmed the tiny crevices there.
“Bloody hell!” Gregg whispered as he followed suit and I almost laughed as I pulled free my weapons and rolled out from beneath the wagon.
I was on my feet before the first cry of alarm came and my axe sank deep into the neck of the nearest raider. Blood sprayed across my face, the warm droplets the only signal my minions needed to discard their guise of fleeing civilians and draw their blades.
Spinning on my heel, it was luck more than skill that caught the loosed crossbow bolt on my blade, deflecting it. Not that I’d admit that it was a fluke as it looked damned impressive and, judging from the wide-eyed look of surprise on the raiders face before me, enough of a distraction to allow me to end his life with one thrust of my blade.
Like a dam bursting, my minions leapt from the back of the wagon and battle was joined. The clash of steel on steel, the screams of pain and cries of surprise. All washed over me as I moved swiftly from enemy to enemy, never stopping as I parried and thrust, swinging my axe and ducking beneath the flailing blades of the raiders.
Blood spurted over my hand as my blade slammed up beneath a raiders chin. He tried to form words, perhaps to beg forgiveness or for his life. I cared not, as I twisted that blade before pulling it free and moving on to the next.
A minion fell, crossbow bolt jutting from his temple and then another beside him. The three crossbowmen stood a good fifty feet ahead of us and I set off running. Barely half the distance had been crossed before they had reloaded their crossbows. Another quarter as they raised them to their shoulders and took aim.
I leapt forward, tucking my shoulder, as the three bolts flew through the air where I had been moments before. I landed against the hard surface of the road and rolled to my feet in one swift, smooth, motion.
My axe sang a dirge of death as the first crossbowman fell, the blade smashing through cheek and jaw alike. I caught the blow from the crossbow swung like a club, my arm numb from the shock, and I stepped in close as I thrust my blade into the man’s side.
His scream of pain was the music that sent me spinning away, ducking beneath the clumsy swing of the last raider. I sent him to the ground, my axe cutting deep into his calf. I sucked in a breath, scanning the road, alert for dangers but found none.
My minions stood victorious, blood covering their weapon hands and torsos, the sure sign of their bloody work. There were no cries of jubilation, no idiotic war cries. They just each raised those bloody hands high in salute. A gesture I returned, they had earned it.
The two surviving, yet wounded, crossbowmen were whimpering. They were not the elite troopers I had hoped to find. Just recruits, probably from their island home in the centre of Birmingham.
Young, their naive minds filled with the tales of my bloody work, their blood hot from the rallying cry of their leader. They had nothing I needed to hear, nothing I cared to know. They were guilty by association and as such, they were doomed no matter what.
“Ensure none shall rise.”
“What about survivors?” Gregg called, his hand was as bloody as any of my minions and I respected him all the more for he was no natural warrior.
“There are none,” I replied, grinning.
He turned away from the bloody work that came next, trying to shut out the cries of terror as my minions moved amongst the wounded. The road ran red with blood, and the insects would feast well on the bounty we had left them.
“What now, my Lord Death?” a minion asked, approaching me.
A good question. I did a quick headcount and gave a soft grunt. Eighteen raiders dead for three of ours. Definitely not the elite raiders I had been hoping to kill. That meant they were most likely gathering, ready to attack the village.
“Back into the wagon.”
“We’re going back?” Gregg asked and I shook my head.
“No. We go on. In a mile, this road branches off to the south where it will meet the west road out of the village.” I had studied the local area for some time and I was sure of what would work best. “We’ll meet the other wagon there, then head south until we can swing around to join onto the south road out of the village.”
“Then what?”
“We go north, heading back to the village as fast as we can and taking the enemy in the rear.”
If they hadn’t already wiped out the village, it would give us the best chance of winning. There were too many of them for us to fight head-on. No, it would need to be a tactical battle, a victory won that would leave us with enough people to survive whatever was thrown at us next.
Besides, there was still an unknown factor there. The group that had fought the Riders on their eastern border for half a decade and had just made peace in time to join forces and come to fight us. A coincidence that I did not like, not one bit.
“Load up,” I snapped, and my minions jumped to it.
If we were too late, if my family were harmed, then the entire world would know my fury and it would burn like no other, leaving nothing in its wake but death and destruction.
I gripped my weapons tighter as I headed to the wagon and climbed up into the cab beside the driver. He looked at me, waiting for an order and I lifted my chin towards the road ahead.
“Drive, and drive fast,” I said, knowing that every minute would count in the time to come.
Chapter 30
They came out of the trees as darkness covered the land, casting down more road flares and bathing in the crimson glow.
It gave them a nightmarish aspect, shadows moving across their beaten metal armour, and hiding much of their faces deep within the open-fronted helms.
Many wore the breastplate and pauldrons we were familiar with, while others wore garishly painted leather or twisted metal strips bound together and spray-painted with displeasing symbols that held no meaning to those of us watching from within the walls.
Swords, axes, spears and clubs. They held round shields made of wood and rimmed in steel. Twenty sat atop horses on the road, their lances held with points aimed at the sky. Hard faces and eyes full of lustful hunger.
Men and women, both, they were ready to kill and main. They cared nothing for who we were or what we wanted to achieve, they just wanted to destroy. They were the barbarians at our gates and any hope of a new civilisation rising from the rubble of the decaying old world, would die with us.
All that would remain was the anguished cries of the weak and defenceless as they became prey for the petty warlords who would fight over the corpse of society as humanity descended into a new dark age from which it might never climb out of.
I would have wept had I tears left in me.
Isaac, face grim, watched them massing for an attack and looked along the line, at his people, holding tight to their weapons and readying to fight. They were scared, the stench of their fear filling the air, but they stood, like heroes.
Samuel, bowed his head as a cultist whispered into his ear and he nodded before sending the man running with a wave of his hand. He turned to meet my gaze and nodded slowly.
“The last of the non-combatants are in the warehouse,” I said to Isaac.
A drone flew past overhead and those raiders lifted their eyes to follow its flight across the night sky. Charlie would not leave her post, refusing to abandon the radio as she sent out repeated requests for help from any who would listen.
She didn’t think that I knew she spent a good deal of her time trying to raise the island too. She hadn’t given up hope and I wasn’t ready to take it from her, so I pretended not to know.
“They don’t care,” he said, lifting his chin towards the drone. “They know it doesn’t matter if we can see them.”
Killing The Dead | Book 23 | Come The End Page 18
