“How many groups do you think there are?”
“Three, at least.”
Alliances had been made. What had the leader of the Riders promised them in return for their cooperation? I could only guess and my heart sank with the thought of what would befall the survivors should we lose the fight.
I liked dry lips and tightened my grip on my knife. Isaac had offered me a sword, but I’d not had even the basic training his people had. No, I had been taught how to fight with a knife by Ryan and I would use that as he would want.
“Why the hell aren’t they attacking?” Isaac muttered, eyes narrowing as he stared out over the wall.
“Waiting for their reinforcements?”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t feel right. There’s more than enough of them as is, they don’t need to terrify us with their brutality.”
“What then?”
Three figures stepped forward, pushing through the crowd to stand several feet in front of the line of raider scum. The tallest stood in the centre, his skull-faced helmet firmly in place and there was a glow in those empty eye sockets.
Ryan had told me all about him and his theatrical attempts to appear demonic. I would have laughed had he not an army behind him ready to kill us all.
Beside him, to his left, stood a woman. She had painted whorls on her face and her armour was made of strips of leather. I could only imagine how many sofa sets and office chairs had been torn apart for all the leather her people wore.
She stood with her leg cocked and an axe balanced against her hip. There was disdain in her stance as she stared at us. Her eyes met mine, seeming to see me even in the darkness, and I almost flinched back from the hunger there.
Of the three, she was the more dangerous, I was sure.
To the right, a fat, older, man stood. A heavy club rested on his shoulder and sweat was clearly running freely down his jowls. Greasy hair and unshaven, he was exactly what I would have expected an apocalyptic raider to look like.
I was sure he would smell as bad as I imagined too.
He was a brute, unsophisticated and a leader purely due to his size and the violence he was ready and willing to use at the slightest provocation.
The three of them stood in silence, watching us and letting themselves be seen. Building tension and, no doubt, fear. They had spent a decade brutalising the survivors of the apocalypse, building their forces and claiming their territory. They had plenty of experience in tearing apart communities.
I waited, letting the silence stretch, expecting a monologue of some sort. Perhaps a demand we surrender, or just some threats. It wouldn’t make a difference, whatever they said, we would stand and fight.
Our island home was lost to us and the last remnants of our community were behind the walls. There was nowhere to flee to, nothing to do but fight to the death for the small chance of freedom we had.
“Where is he?”
The booming resonance of the lead raiders voice was a surprise. Clearly, he had training, perhaps he had been a stage actor, used to projecting his voice. It would explain the theatrics of his helmet and whole persona.
“You think he wants your boyfriend?” Isaac, asked, spitting on the ground at his feet, trying to keep away the dry mouth brought on by fear.
“I would guess so.”
“Maybe we should tell them he left.”
The raider seemed to be growing impatient, folding his arms across his chest, body language screaming out an imminent burst of rage-fuelled movement.
“I don’t think they’d believe us.”
He grunted out a short laugh.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Give him to me and you will have a chance of living through the night,” the Raider called. “This is your only chance.”
“Go fuck yourself!” Isaac called back, and laughter sounded up and down the line as his words broke the tension.
Instead of the anger, the call to attack, that I had expected. The leader just shook his head, almost wearily. It seemed, just for a moment, that he had actually wanted us to do as he demanded. Whatever was about to happen was not something he seemed at all pleased about.
What on earth could that be, I had to wonder. Something so terrible that the people who raped, mutilated and murdered on a daily basis was dismayed at having to enact it.
“This is going to be bad,” I heard myself whisper, stomach-churning as the crowd parted on the road.
A transit van slowly reversed into view, painted black with no insignia on its dark painted surface. I had no doubt it did not belong to the raiders, but was instead something that came from the adversary they had been fighting on their eastern flank for years.
“The hell is this?” Isaac asked, echoing my thoughts.
We shared a look, our faces betraying our confusion. Neither of us could tell what it was, but we knew it would be bad.
Two figures climbed from the vehicles cab, their slate grey fatigues familiar to us. The black armoured vest they wore over their chest and the rounded helmet, with a hardened plastic visor, told us all we needed to know about them. As did the assault rifles they carried in their arms.
“Fucking, Genpact,” Isaac breathed. It had been more than half a decade since he had worn that very same uniform.
Those two figures sauntered towards the back of their vehicle, unconcerned by the army surrounding them. An alliance had been made for sure, but I was pretty certain that it was not an alliance of equals.
“What...” I stopped, not sure what words were appropriate as the doors were pulled open and the occupant stepped out into the harsh light of the burning flares.
“Christ! What have they done?” Isaac asked, not expecting an answer.
Taller than even the Rider’s leader, the lone occupant of the van seemed to unfold from the bent-over stance that had been needed to fit it into the van. It wore no clothing, gender long removed from its body, and had only heavy metal discs fitted in a broad belt around its waist, protecting the stomach area.
Long-bladed knives were held in hands that had fingers too long for any living person, those blades hooked at the end, all the better to catch and tear at flesh. It wielded them with an ease and calm confidence that almost had me step back in fear.
Its face was hidden by a domed helmet that covered the skull, leaving not a single part of the face uncovered, while black metal plates formed a ring around the neck and, I was sure, would cover much of the spine too.
“Reaper?” Isaac asked, a tremble of fear in his voice.
“Infected,” I replied, watching the creature move.
“How?”
That was something I could not answer. The last of the infected had been trapped beneath the ground with Ryan. She had provided the vaccine that we had never got to use. It was likely taken by the Genpact betrayers or lost to us on the island.
“Does it matter?” I asked him, answering his question with my own. “Either way, we have to prepare to fight.”
He gave a curt nod and turned his head to look along the line at his people.
“Ready!” he yelled, voice betraying none of the fear he felt.
As if in answer, the infected creature burst into action, moving faster even than I could have imagined it crossed the space between us in moments. With a single bound, it cleared the gate and landed amongst the black-garbed men and women gathered there.
They didn’t stand a chance.
It moved like water over stone, flowing through one movement to the next, both arms moving almost independently as those wickedly sharp blades tore apart flesh and clothing alike. I had never seen anything like it, and I stood stock-still, staring, caught by the almost beauty of its murderous assault.
“Fire!” Isaac yelled, loosing his own crossbow bolt at the creature.
It missed, the creature moving too fast for Isaac’s aim and I raised my knife. A quick look at my friend, who nodded once, and we set off running to join the fight.
Outside the wal
ls, the raiders screamed their warcries and ran forward.
Chapter 31
Hot blood splashed across my face as the woman before me screamed, eyes wide with shock and panic as she grabbed onto me for support. The hooked blade cutting into the side of her neck was wrenched back, tearing flesh and spraying more blood over me.
The creature was unstoppable, half the people dressed as cultists were down, dead or dying. Samuel’s blade bounced from the creatures armoured hide and it responded by slashing him deep across the cheek. It was only his intense hours of training with Ryan that allowed him to see the swing coming and almost avoid it.
More of his people leapt at the strange creature, their blades flashing and their silence a sign that they were true cultists. They fought with quiet confidence, their movements sure and swift. It made little difference.
Their cuts on its flesh didn’t stop it for a moment, and they could only evade its attacks for so long. While they tired, the creature did not and the first true-cultists fell, head almost severed from her neck.
Crossbow bolts flew past it, none finding their mark, and then the raiders were at the walls. Barely a minute had passed and we had lost a third of our fighters. I could have wept.
Over the wall they came, the raiders hollering for blood and falling upon Isaac’s troopers. The battle was on in earnest and I swallowed down my fear and leapt straight at the infected creature.
A true cultist parried a knife swing from its left hand, and stabbed his knife into its armpit. Its right hand drove the hooked blade through the side of his head with a tremendous crack audible even over the clash of arms.
Distracted as it was with the cultist it had just killed, the dark helm on its head turned and I could feel its eyes on me as I darted in. Every movement it made was almost faster than I could see, let alone react to, and yet still I caught the hooked blade against the hilt of my knife.
I sent a silent prayer of thanks for the years of training that Ryan had given me, as I kicked at the creature’s leg, aiming for the knee.
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my leg burning and the taste of blood in my mouth. My leg was wet, the dark stain spreading from the deep cut there and I looked up, surprised that I was even alive.
Three cultists were attacking the damned creature, raining blows down on it as they sought to drive it away from me. The first was cut from stomach to throat with one slice of the creatures knife, and the second lost his head, quite literally. It landed just a few feet away from where I lay.
Strong hands grabbed me beneath my arms and pulled, lifting me even as I screamed at the sudden rush of pain it brought me.
“My Lady,” Samuel cried, pulling me away from the fight. “To safety.”
Two of his cultists fell in beside him, their faces turned outwards as they provided a flanking guard. Moving away only to strike at any raider that came too close as we moved past the houses and towards the road that ran north to south beside the village.
“Fall back, you dumb bastards!” Isaac yelled, as more of the raiders poured over the wall.
The few troopers that remained, did as he commanded and began to beat a retreat. Loosing the last of their bolts and using their swords as best they could.
It wasn’t enough.
The creature cut down the last of those it was fighting and turned its attention back on me. A raider ran towards us, too close to the creature, and was cut down without a second thought which caused the other raiders that were running our way, to back off.
Every step I took a burst of pain flashed through my leg and it was only due to Samuel’s support that I was able to move at all. The village was lost, the battle over, we had to flee back to the warehouse where we would make our last stand.
Screams filled the air, mingling with the cries of the fighters, and the clang of metal ringing against metal. The coppery scent of blood was heavy on the air, almost overpowered by the stench of the dead as their bowels opened.
Isaac turned and I caught a fleeting glimpse of his face as he took in our weary retreat. He bellowed a command and that was the last I saw of his eyes, as he directed his gaze at the creature. Those few of his troopers who could break from the fight, joined him as he ran at it, ready to kill it or die trying.
My head swam, thoughts turgid, as pain filled my being. The raiders, seeing the battle won, gave little care for us as they turned their attentions to the houses. Axes and beaten metal blades crashed against the doors, breaking them open before the raiders ran in, eager for the loot they imagined to be there.
I wished that I could have seen their faces as the first of the booby traps Ryan had left exploded into flame, engulfing them and spreading quickly through the fuel soaked houses. A handful were burning quickly before the raiders realised their error, and it had been a costly error at that.
“Take her!” Samuel snapped, and someone pulled me close, through the open door behind them and into the dark and cloying interior of the warehouse.
People huddled together, sure of the safety of the walls that surrounded them, but all too aware that there was no further retreat. They would have to stand and fight as death awaited them if they did not.
“Cass?”
“Yes,” she said, as Evie hurried over to help her carry my weight.
“Is everyone inside?”
“I got Charlie out,” she said, then bit her lip and looked away, tears in her eyes.
“What is it?”
Neither woman immediately answered and I looked back as the heavy steel door slammed shut behind Samuel and the last of his cultists. A moment later the door shook as something threw its weight against it and the room grew silent.
Cass still refused to look me in the eye and I slumped, leg giving way as darkness edged my vision. I was saved from a fall only by my friends as I looked around the open warehouse floor, searching as my fear grew.
“Where are they?” I cried. “The children!”
“I’m sorry,” Cass whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m so very sorry. I lost them.”
Chapter 32
I couldn’t see the village but I heard the explosion, and after a moment, caught sight of the smoke rising above the trees alongside the road. My hand squeezed the hilt of my knife so hard that I felt my fingers might break.
They had broken through the defences and were in the village.
The traps that I had set would take out a few of them, maybe provide a distraction, but little else. There hadn’t been enough fuel left to provide much more than a small explosion and fuel for the resultant flames.
“We’ll be there in a minute, mate.”
Greggs words were no doubt supposed to be comforting, as was the hand he placed on my shoulder but I was certainly not in the mood for such nonsense. No, what I wanted was to kill and main those who might think to hurt my family.
The wagon skidded as the driver took the intersection at a greater speed than he should have. Then we were moving north, headed towards the village gates and the enemy.
“Don’t stop,” I told the driver. “If you see the enemy, run them down, but do not stop until we are inside the village.”
“Yes, my Lord Death.”
A ridiculous name and one I had long since ceased to find amusing, but right then, I was determined to ensure that my actions matched the name. I would lay waste to my enemies and be the bringer of death my idiot followers believed me to be.
There were few raiders outside the village, though two figures stood beside a transit van on the road. As instructed, the driver didn’t stop and those figures barely had a moment to turn around and register our presence before they became little more than a smear on the cracked tarmac.
The gates hung open, bodies littering the ground beyond them and the driver slammed on the brakes as soon as we were through. We had barely stopped before I was out of the cab and assessing the situation.
My minions piled out of the back of the wagon and I didn’t need to look at t
hem to see they had drawn their weapons. By the houses to my left, the raiders were tending their wounded as they pulled them from the burning houses.
“Kill them all,” I snapped, waving towards those raiders and my minions were off running, weapons flashing in the moonlight.
“Mate?”
“What?”
“They’re okay, you have to believe that.”
“Do you?”
I glanced at him and caught his hesitation before he tried to offer trite reassurance. Screams echoed from the buildings as the minions caught those raiders in the open and the fight was quick and dirty.
There was no need to wait for them as I set off running through the village, well aware of the enemy ahead and caring not one bit. Gregg followed close behind, his knife ready and I wished for a moment that I could be the type of man who was able to thank his friend for his readiness to follow him into danger.
But I wasn’t.
“Holy fuck!” Gregg said, as we came to a stop, staring at the scene before us.
Most of the raiders were standing well back from the warehouses, almost on the opposite side of the road, while a single figure, too tall to be fully human, railed against the heavy warehouse doors. Hammering its blades against the steel and throwing itself repeatedly at it.
Raiders lay dead on the ground around it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the creature itself that had killed them. Judging by the way the others kept a distance between them, I suspected it was.
Whatever they had unleashed to aid them in their conquest of us, it had turned against them. I could almost laugh at that if my family were not in danger inside that warehouse.
“There’s a lot of them,” Gregg whispered.
The raiders attention was firmly on the creature and they had not noticed our approach, giving me plenty of time to study them.
A couple of hundred of them at least. Some had been lost in the fight, some to my traps and some to the creature throwing itself tirelessly against the warehouse doors. Still more were in the process of being slaughtered by my minions.
That still left four to five times more of them than there was of us.
Killing The Dead | Book 23 | Come The End Page 19
