Killing the Dead Season 3 Box Set | Books 13-18

by Murray, Richard

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” I said to Evie as she came across to me, freshly changed baby in her arms.

  “Well, we had a talk, finally.” She passed me my son with a smile. “We came to an understanding of sorts.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll talk to you later. I need to get home to Lucas. Mum and dad will need a break.”

  “Okay, well, coffee in the morning before you head to work?”

  “Sure.”

  She waved and brushed past me, headed to the door and I looked across at Gregg.

  “I’m staying till after I’ve eaten, sorry.”

  “You’re always welcome.”

  He grinned at that and headed into the kitchen to check on the food as I crossed the room and sat down beside my love. His eyes met my own and I caught my breath as I saw the warmth in them. I leant in, my lips meeting his as we shared a passionate, yet quiet, greeting.

  “Gah! Do you two have to do that? You have a guest to think of.”

  “Sorry, Gregg.” He laughed as I shook my head and pulled back from Ryan. “How long till dinner is ready?”

  “Another half hour.”

  “Good, I have time to pump.” I looked up at my friend. “If you wouldn’t mind taking this little fellow?”

  “Like you need to ask.”

  Gregg reached out eagerly and lifted my baby boy. He smiled as he cradled him and reached for the second bottle of milk that was waiting on the side table. I stood up and he took my place, sitting beside Ryan as he fed my son.

  I looked at them both, sitting side by side, each with a baby cradled in one arm and a bottle held in their other and I laughed.

  “What?” Gregg asked.

  “Just thinking,” I said. “Here you sit, the very picture of domesticity. A far cry from the blood and gore of the battlefield. It’s almost weird, seeing you so…well, normal.”

  “Enjoy it while you can, my friend, it won’t last,” Gregg said.

  Well, that was true enough, I supposed. But that made it all the more important to appreciate the little moments when they came along, and I was damned sure I would appreciate that one. For all his faults, Ryan was shaping up to be a good father.

  The man I had first met, two years before, was a hell of a lot different to the man I shared my life with. He had friends he cared for and children that he loved. His feelings for me were something I cherished and I considered myself to be truly lucky.

  Which made it harder to do what I had to.

  “I need you to do something,” I said, softly and Ryan looked up, gaze meeting mine.

  “What?”

  “Genpact need to be stopped.” I sucked in a deep breath as his face changed, eyes going cold. “Eliminated.”

  And there it was. I had to fight the almost instinctive urge to grab our daughter as the killer rose up behind his eyes. It was a frightening thing to behold and while I knew he would never harm our children, just that look evoked an almost primal fear response.

  I shivered and forced a smile as he tilted his head, watching me as a predator would its prey. No matter how much I knew in my head that he wouldn’t hurt me, an instinctive part of me was screaming of danger.

  “You are fine with me leaving?”

  A whole host of meaning in that one question. Would it break his promise to stay? No. Would I worry about him being gone? Of course. Would I understand the things he had to do?

  “Yes.”

  Of course I wasn’t. I would be scared every single moment he was gone that he wouldn’t return and I would cry myself to sleep on a night, knowing that one day he would head out as a man and come back as the killer.

  He had noticed, I thought, and I was pretty sure that was one of the reasons he had promised to stay on the island until the twins were born. The more he killed, the harder it was for him to stop being the killer.

  It was almost like an addiction for him and like any addict, he was needing more and more to get that same thrill. More murder, more violence, more chaos. It was why he had been spending so much time training. He needed to take his mind off of his need for death.

  And I was asking him to go and get another fix.

  “The others are drawing up plans for the operation now,” I said. “They estimate a few days at most before we can start.”

  “It will not be easy.”

  “But it has to be done. We can’t risk them sending more plague ships to us. Or whatever else they try to do.”

  “What will this… mission, entail?” Gregg asked, looking from Ryan to me.

  “A distraction will be staged while a small group goes inside the bunker and…” I licked dry lips. “And, eliminates the threat.”

  “There’s gonna be hundreds of people in that bunker! Even if we get in, how the hell will we stop them?”

  “It can be done,” Ryan said, voice cool as he forced the killer back down. His gaze dropped to our daughter and when he looked back up, the man I loved was back. “Won’t be easy and it will have risk, but it can be done.”

  I swallowed back the tears that threatened to come and nodded in agreement to him. It would be damned difficult and risky as hell, but I couldn’t really imagine anyone having more chance than Ryan. No matter how much it broke my heart to ask him to do it.

  “Man, I really thought we were done with danger.”

  “You don’t have to go,” Ryan said to our friend, not taking his eyes off of me. “Stay and protect my family for me.”

  Gregg gave him a hard look and shook his head. He turned to me and hesitated a moment before looking back at Ryan.

  “No, mate. I think the best way to protect your family is to go with you and make sure you come home.”

  He looked over at me once more and grinned.

  “Besides, you’d be lost without me.”

  “Perhaps,” Ryan said, lips forming a thin smile.

  It would be dangerous. That much was true, but I had to believe that he would come back to me. As I looked into his eyes, I could see the silent promise in them. He knew my fears and he was promising that he would return.

  In truth, I had little doubt he would, but I very much worried whether it would be the man or the killer.

  Chapter 12

  The day was clear and still, the streets blanketed in a thick layer of snow that crunched beneath my feet as I walked. It was quiet and peaceful, almost pleasant. I wore a thick coat and leather gloves to ward off the cold but still felt that ache in my bones.

  “Damn, it needs to warm up soon,” Gregg muttered. “I’m done with winter.”

  I spared him a pitying look, smile widening at the sight of him. The thick woollen hat was pulled down over his head as far as it could go and there was so much scarf wrapped around his face that I had difficulty understanding what he was saying at times.

  The mittens he wore were totally unsuited for use with a weapon and the several layers of clothing meant he would struggle to move fast should the need arise. Added to that was the fact that each item of clothing was a different colour, making him look like a heavy rainbow walking through the snow.

  “What?” He eyed me suspiciously as I laughed.

  “Remind me to ask Samuel to add clothes warehouses to our list of scavenging sites.”

  “Not my fault if we have limited choice. These were the best I could do.”

  I shook my head and pressed on through the snow-covered streets. Those few people about gave us a wide berth. The soldiers on patrol watched us carefully, though a few nodded in greeting or possibly to show respect. Any of my own minions immediately saluted with a fist to the breast.

  Dark clouds covered the sky and while it had ceased snowing for the moment, I was pretty sure it would be starting up again soon enough.

  Gregg acknowledged the warm greeting from a man as we passed and I glanced at my friend to find him blushing, as he avoided my gaze. I looked back at the man, tall and slim with a pleasant face and eyes that followed my friend.

  �
�Who was that?”

  “No one.”

  “Clearly it’s someone.”

  “Look, leave it, yeah.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back to the street. If he didn’t want to tell me then I would accept that. I didn’t actually care that much anyway.

  Besides, I had other things on my mind.

  Another boat had approached the island during the night and was only spotted because of the Admiral’s diligence in protecting the island. Since the seas were calmer than the last time, a fast boat was sent to meet them.

  When they got there, the man piloting the boat was busy throwing people overboard. His intention, it seemed, was to have those people drown and wash up on our shore as zombies, likely infected with smallpox like the first lot.

  Genpact were upping their game. As a third boat was on its way towards us. It seemed that we were an island under siege and since every available CDF soldier had been distributed around the coastline to ensure no unwanted visitors came ashore, the plan to attack them was on hold.

  We arrived at the docks just in time to see the fast response boat returning. It had a sleek wedge shape that cut through the water, almost skipping over the tops of the larger waves. Its engine roar was enough to set the seagulls to flight as it slowed to a stop.

  Each of the squad of soldiers was wearing gloves and a breathing mask over their face. Every bit of skin was covered and they had paper coveralls over their uniforms. A man was manhandled from the boat and up onto the docks where more, similarly clad, soldiers were waiting.

  He would be taken to the same medical centre where Gregg and I had spent the better part of two days, where he would be assessed and then interrogated.

  “Why didn’t they take him to the other place. That little island to the south?”

  “Because he’s probably not infected,” Isaac offered as he joined us. I gave him a nod of greeting which he returned warily.

  “What makes you think that?” Gregg asked, turning to look at the brutish former mercenary.

  “The man I killed had one of the black discs on his chest,” I said quietly, and it was Isaac’s turn to nod. “They work for Genpact and are mercenaries, not martyrs. They don’t want to die.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I worked with them, lad,” Isaac replied, staring at the man that was being marched across to a waiting truck. “I recognise that fellow. Worked with him before and he does what he does for money. He’s no believer.”

  That was news to me, and I watched the prisoner go with some interest. He was tall and well built, with a square jaw and buzz cut that I had come to associate with the professional military. Even under guard, he walked with shoulders back and head high, sneering at his captors in much the same way that I would.

  His eyes met mine briefly and I couldn’t help my smile. There was a deadness to them that made me almost certain that he was like me. That meant I could find a way to motivate him to give us some answers.

  He was loaded onto the truck and his guards climbed in behind him. The engine roared to life and the truck moved slowly, pushing through the snow that covered the road. I watched it go and turned to look at my friend.

  “Tell me you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

  “I am.”

  He groaned as Isaac looked puzzled and I smiled widely at him in a way that made him shiver.

  “Let’s go and meet your friend.”

  We followed the tracks made by the truck, which made the going a little easier as we could walk through those great gouges made by the tyres, rather than forge a path through the snow ourselves.

  It was a short walk to the medical centre and when we arrived, the minions that surrounded it, parted before me with a simple salute of fist to breast, which I ignored. The CDF soldiers at the door were a different matter.

  “Sir, this area is restricted.”

  The woman who spoke was in her later twenties with all the brash confidence of youth and the self-assurance of one who has survived the worst the apocalypse could throw at her. She didn’t flinch from my stare and she kept her hand near the poignard sheathed at her belt.

  Behind her, the rest of her squad looked uncomfortable. Understandable really as they knew who I was and had likely heard enough stories to know what happened to those that displeased me.

  My lips twitched at the corners as I fought down a smile. It was pleasant, sometimes, to be feared. Though I would have preferred not to be noticed at all, if I had no choice, I would rather they were scared enough to do as I told them to do.

  Something the young soldier before me didn’t look likely to do.

  “We have business inside, lass,” Isaac said. “Who’s in charge here?”

  “Captain Jennings.”

  I couldn’t help the smirk at hearing that name.

  “Get him out here then!” Isaac snapped. “Too bloody cold to be standing around out here.”

  The young soldier pursed her lips but turned and snapped an order to one of her squad. The soldier rushed off and returned a few minutes later with the scowling captain in tow. I widened my smile, mockingly as he stepped out into the cold.

  A hard-faced man, there were still small scars visible on his face from where the rats had bitten him down in the underground tunnels back in Glasgow. They were faded, but there for those who knew to look.

  His left hand was missing a finger, one that he had cut off at my command. A penance for his cowardice when we were attacked by a group of Ferals. A punishment that he hadn’t forgotten and really didn’t like being reminded of.

  “What do you want?” His voice was gruff, his entire body tense and anger twisted his face.

  “I want you to move your people out of my way.”

  “Mate,” Gregg said quietly as he put a hand on my arm and gently pulled me back. He turned his attention to the captain. “I am a member of the new government and I would like to go inside and question the prisoner.”

  “No one enters,” Jennings said. “Admirals orders.”

  “Then I suggest you get authorisation from him and fast,” Isaac said with a snigger. “You’ve got a shit load of cultists surrounding you all listening and getting more pissed off by the second that you’re not doing as their boss says.”

  Jennings tore his gaze from mine and looked behind me. I didn’t need to turn to know that my minions were watching and from the way the colour drained from his face, he understood what they could do.

  “You should do as you’re told, Captain.” I nodded down at his hand. “You did the last time I gave you an order.”

  His gun was half-way out of the holder before Isaac’s big hand wrapped around his arm, holding it in place as I just grinned. The former mercenary stepped close and spoke quietly to the captain.

  “Jesus, mate. Did you have to do that?”

  I had no reply. I was out of sorts and itching for a fight. I knew that. I also knew that Lily would be pissed at my provoking one with the captain but I couldn’t seem to help myself. I had an almost desperate need to kill someone and that urge was growing daily.

  With the time spent in quarantine, I’d not even had the distraction of training. It was like an itch that was all over my body and could never be scratched. I licked my lips and forced my hand away from my knife handle.

  “The hell is going on here!” A voice roared from behind us. “Stand down! All of you!”

  “Thank God!” Gregg muttered.

  Isaac looked back at the voice and his eyes narrowed as he released his hold on the Captain and stepped back. The soldiers all stood to attention and saluted, though Jennings only did so with a sour scowl for me first.

  “Admiral,” I called out, not taking my eyes from the soldiers before me. “About time you got here.”

  “Tell your people to stand down,” he snapped, and I finally looked around, blinking in surprise.

  My minions had all drawn weapons and were forming a wall between us and t
he new arrivals. Admiral Stuart, not looking happy in any way, waited impatiently with a small squad of marines who all stood with assault rifles held at the ready.

  Lily, beside him, looked equally displeased.

  I raised my hand and snapped my fingers, the sound loud in the tense silence. The minions immediately sheathed their weapons and returned to their positions, standing guard.

  “Hello, Lily.”

  She didn’t immediately reply which indicated that she was a little annoyed with me. She spoke quietly with the Admiral as they made their way to us and I waited, a carefully bland smile on my face.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded irritably as she came close enough that no one could hear her whispered words but me.

  “I wanted to speak to the captive.”

  “Ryan,” she said, with a soft sigh. “There’s rules. You can’t just decide to do something and have it happen. We’ve set up protocols for a reason.”

  I vaguely remembered her mentioning them but hadn’t actually considered that they would apply to me. For such a long time I had done as I pleased, and it had worked out fine. My brow furrowed at the thought that I would need to ask for permission to do things.

  “Don’t over-think it,” she said with a smile that suggested she wasn’t too angry with me. “Why do you want to speak with him?”

  “Isaac knows him,” I said with a casual wave towards the mercenary. “He’s definitely Genpact.”

  “And just what were you planning to do if he didn’t want to speak to you?” Admiral Stuart asked in a voice taut with controlled anger.

  “Whatever I needed to do.”

  “No!” he snapped. “There are rules to how we will treat people. We are not savages.”

  “We are whatever we need to be to survive,” I said, giving him a curious look. “I thought you understood that.”

  “Things are changing,” Lily said, placing her hand on my arm in what I assumed was a gesture of comfort. “We need to be better than we were. We have a place we can call home and we can become something much better.”

  “So, no torture?”

  “No.” She smiled, almost kindly and patted my arm. “I know you’re impatient, but we need to do this right.”