Things had been dire at the end and the usual strange ideas of respecting the dead had been put on hold for the much more pragmatic ideal of getting rid of them before they caused problems.
“You see anything, mate?”
“A lot of snow.”
“Yeah, no shit. Anything else?”
I glanced down at Gregg and grinned in a way that would annoy him.
“Pretty much what you’d expect. A lot of houses, abandoned vehicles and snow covering everything. There could be zombies sitting under the snow but there aren’t any on the nearest streets.”
Which made sense, since the mound we were behind was only one of many such mounds that dotted the fields surrounding the town. It seemed that the residents had managed to hold out for some time against the rising numbers of undead.
Long enough to start burying the bodies at least.
“Looks like military barricades,” I said as I caught sight of what I could only guess to be a mounted machine gun behind a snow-covered wall of sandbags. “No soldiers though.”
“This close to the capitol,” Isaac mused, scratching at his bearded chin. “I bet most of the surrounding towns had soldiers stationed there.”
Back when everything had kicked off, the south had been hit the hardest as they had a great many more people concentrated in smaller areas. As a result, they also received the majority of the help from the government forces.
The refugee centre that I’d found myself in hadn’t had much in the way of protection considering the size of my home town and the number of people gathered there. When the inevitable had happened and the zombies had come calling, the defence didn’t last long.
I climbed down off the rusting bulldozer and adjusted the pack I wore. It had grown lighter over the last day and a half of uneventful walking through the snow-shrouded countryside. There’d been little in the way of excitement and even less in the way of food we could scavenge.
“We gonna do this then?” Gregg asked, perhaps a little grumpily.
He’d not been his usual chatty self since we’d crashed the helicopter and the way he kept a good distance between himself and Briony, I suspected that she was the reason. She made him uncomfortable and I could almost understand that.
I clapped him on the shoulder and flashed a grin which he didn’t return. Grumpy bugger.
“What’s the plan if there’s no boat?” Isaac asked.
He too kept glancing at Briony, who for the most part, ignored both men. I suspected that he was less uncomfortable and more looking to be prepared for her inevitable attack upon us.
They were both wasting time and energy that could be better spent elsewhere. She had no reason to attack us until we had accomplished our tasks. She knew as well as any that we needed each other.
“We follow the coast south,” I replied to the burly mercenary. “Either we’ll find a boat or we’ll reach the Thames river and then we follow that to the city.”
“Where is the base?”
I glanced at Briony and smiled. There was no way I would tell her where the entrances were to it, not until I had to.
“In the city,” I told her and laughed.
Isaac led the way since he claimed to know the town and he gestured for silence as we approached the nearest of the houses. I rolled my eyes but complied since I enjoyed the silence anyway.
With Briony in our little group, the majority of the zombies would shy away from us. They either sensed or perhaps more likely, smelt something off about her and it caused them to retreat before her. In some cases, if the winds were blowing our scents before us, they would move well out of our way before we even came close.
It made for a boring walk but saved our limited energy.
We entered the town from the west, walking past nondescript houses of red brick. Many of them were falling to ruin and some of that had likely been from fighting towards the end of the world. Windows were shattered, doors wide open and bullet holes everywhere.
A corpse, more bone than anything, lay slumped against a wall. There was a hole in the skull. I stopped and stared at it for a moment, before shrugging and moving on. All along the street, we saw more of the same.
Signs of violence, of death, of a last stand taken by desperate people. The streets beneath the snow were littered with bodies and we found ourselves stumbling often as we walked.
In the next street, several houses were little more than burnt ruins and their gardens were full of bones, bodies piled so high atop one another that the bones protruded from the snow.
“The hell happened here?” Gregg asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“A lot of zombies died,” Isaac replied, before shaking his head and moving on.
Two more streets and we found ourselves on the main road leading most of the way towards the coast. We followed it in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I shot a quick look at Briony, but she was staring off to one side.
I wondered where the zombies were. Even with Briony’s presence, we should have seen some sign of them. That we hadn’t, was concerning.
“Shop up ahead,” Isaac said just loud enough to be heard by the rest of us. “One of those mini-supermarket places.”
“Worth a look,” I said, quite agreeably.
He just grunted a reply I didn’t catch and kept on walking. Despite the cold breeze and the freezing snow, I was in a reasonable mood. Something that seemed to annoy the others. Or perhaps it was more a case of the things that amused me, upset them.
Whatever the reason, I was eager for a little action but not too put out by the lack of it. Soon enough we would have a chance to find a boat and I could well be on my way towards London. Once there, I would kill a great many people and, in truth, I was very much looking forward to that.
The mini-supermarket squatted beside the road, a drab single storey rectangular block of a building. The front was all glass, while the sides and rear were breezeblocks that had been once painted white.
Bodies in various stakes of decay lay about the interior while dark stains covered much of the empty shelving. A lot of people had died inside and many of them had later reanimated it seemed.
“A tin!” Gregg said, stooping down to pick it up. “Pears!”
“Nice one,” Isaac said, slapping the other mans back. “See what else we can find.”
“This is a waste of our time,” Briony hissed as I went to move past her.
“For you, maybe. For us, well, we need to eat.”
“We too require sustenance.”
I gave her a hard look followed by a slight smile. “Don’t get any ideas.”
The two men moved through the shop cautiously, searching for any leftover food items amongst the bones and desiccated remains. I had little real interest in searching and so stood watch at the entrance.
A laundrette, mobile phone store and what had once been a pet shop, were the nearest other buildings. Further back was a garage, complete with cars sitting on the forecourt. That place may be worth checking out, I reasoned, since the tools could well be useful.
“Here,” Gregg said as he came to join me. “A pressie.”
I caught the tin he tossed at me and looked at the label, grunting before tossing it back.
“No thanks.”
“Not a fan of prunes?” He laughed as he swung his pack off of his back. “Keep you regular they will.”
“Not really a concern of mine,” I countered. “Where-“
“Silence!” Briony hissed, cutting me off.
She stood with head cocked to one side, eyes closed as she listened. Something about her posture set the hairs on the back of my neck to standing on end and I reached for my knives.
“Back!” she whispered, gesturing for us to step into the shop.
“Problem?” Isaac asked as he joined us near the entrance. Gregg just shrugged in response before slipping his arms through the straps of his pack.
“What is it?” I demanded in a hushed tone.
“Some
thing is coming.”
Whatever that something was, it clearly worried her and that, in turn, was enough to raise a little concern in me. I stood there, near the entrance of the shop with my back pressed against the wall and snow slowly melting on my boots as I waited, knives drawn.
Then I heard it, the soft whup-whup-whup, of a helicopters rotor as it approached our position. I glanced at the others, at Isaac, in particular, to look for some recognition. His face was grim, jaw set as he clutched his mallet with both white-knuckled hands.
“Genpact!” he said, voice barely audible above the noise of the helicopter as it passed right over us.
Then I realised that the noise wasn’t fading. It was hovering nearby, staying close as it searched for something. Realisation came in an instant. Our tracks in the snow.
A crash sounded, echoing off of the surrounding buildings and I risked a glance out through the glass doors. A wooden crate had been dropped, hitting a snow-covered car and shattering. I stared at the pieces of broken wood, puzzled.
They wouldn’t be dropping supplies and if they had, they would be all around the wreckage of the crate. That there wasn’t meant they had dropped something else. What, I didn’t know, but as the helicopter began to move away, I suspected we were about to find out.
Briony hissed, crouching down and extending her arms. The too long fingers of her hands stretched out as though ready to slash at something and once again, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
“What is it?” I asked, risking the noise for an answer.
She responded by stepping out into the snow, head turning this way and that as she searched for a scent on the air. I took a step towards her and then stopped as something grey, and faster than it had any right to be, slammed into her.
The two bodies went down into the snow and I had a moment to register surprise before Briony was thrown almost casually through the glass windows of the shop. Her body crashed against the shelves and she didn’t immediately stand up.
“Oh, fuck!” Gregg said with something close to true terror in his voice.
Chapter 10
My blades glanced off of the creatures armoured covering and I was slammed against the wall by an errant blow from a bone covered arm. Blood ran down my cheek and I swiped it away angrily as I stared at the imposing monster.
Like both Infected and the Reapers, it had bone growth bursting through the skin around its skull and forearms. Unlike the others, it also had them down its spine and on its shoulders. Not content with being so armoured, some daft bastard had fitted steel plates over its body, bolting them in place, like scales of some great beast.
The damned thing appeared to be practically unstoppable as it went straight for Briony, ignoring the rest of us unless we were between it and her. I caught Gregg’s eye and he jerked his head towards the door, clearly willing to abandon Briony to her fate.
I could admire that impulse, but at the same time, I needed her alive and besides, I very much wanted to kill this new and challenging threat.
“Use your mallet,” I called to Isaac. “Aim for its legs.”
Briony scrambled back, away from the creature, fear evident on her face. Even when she had been facing the last Reaper, she’d not been so scared. It was amusing to see.
Isaac rushed in, ducking a backhanded blow and slamming his mallet against the zombie’s right leg. It gave way immediately, dropping to the floor with a growl. The creature's hand shot out and a scream echoed through the store as blood sprayed into the air.
“Fuck, oh fuck!” Gregg said, dashing forward and grabbing the big mercenary by the arm and dragging him back.
He moaned with the movement but didn’t resist, his hand pressed to the wound in his upper thigh. Blood was drenching his jeans, spilling from between his fingers.
The zombie forgot all about him as it rose back to its feet. Any damage done by the mallet soon healed. Yet another similarity to the Reapers and Infected out there.
“Help us!” Briony snapped, backing away as the creature moved implacably towards her.
It was hunched forward, the metal scales of the armour on its back and the bone around the spine, leaving little flesh vulnerable to my blades. The steel clink of those scales as it moved, grated on my nerves and didn’t help to improve my mood.
“He needs help!” Gregg called, rummaging through his pack for his first aid kit.
“Not much I can do for him,” I said with a half-shrug as I moved past them.
“Fuck you, Clever Bastard!”
I put him from my mind as I stalked the zombie. It seemed oblivious to my presence, its gaze fixed on Briony. She, in turn, wore her fear openly as she retreated but soon came up against the rear wall of the store and was trapped.
She swung her fist and several fist-sized steel plates broke free, scattering across the floor. The zombie responded with a blow of its own, tearing open her stomach, blackened blood coating its clawed fingers.
There was no scream from the Infected woman, just a grunt and a grimace as her insides were exposed. I almost stopped in my tracks as I caught sight of the writhing, crimson, mass in the place where her organs should be.
“H-help, us!” she snapped.
The zombie pulled back one clawed hand and I seized my chance, striking fast with the blade in my right hand, the blade I had spent countless hours sharpening, that was thick enough, strong enough, to cut clean through those too long fingers.
It stopped, turning its head to stare at the hand in what I could only imagine to be surprise. Where its fingers had been were just stumps, and I began to grin. Which is when it turned its full attention to me.
I exercised the better part of valour and took a step back, retreating a little as it turned to face me fully. There was no real awareness in its clouded gaze, just a deep-seated hunger that I could practically feel coming off of it in waves.
As I retreated before it, my gaze swept its body, looking for openings. There were precious little of them. One way to defeat it came to mind immediately, and difficult as it would be, it was also impractical. I needed a method that would allow me to kill it quickly and easily.
The joints were the only places without covering aside from the hands and face. If I had a machete or an axe, I would try to take it apart, one limb at a time. Since I didn’t, that left me with either the eyes or the point where the skull met spine.
With a grin, I flipped the knives in my hands so that the points were down, rather than up, and then I rushed in. No wasting time, I performed a swift uppercut right in front of it, just far enough away that the point of my right-handed blade scored the metal scales of its torso and left a deep gash up its cheek, forcing it to jerk its head back, away from me.
My left hand swept up and out, the blade held there taking two fingers as it sought to claw me. I ducked beneath the remaining fingers as they swiped the air above my head and spun away to my left, swing around the zombie and leaving two fresh scores across the metal plates at the back of its neck.
It howled its rage and I danced back, out of its reach, grinning as the adrenaline rushed through my body. I was starting to have fun and while the creature was fast, with all the metal weighing it down, it wasn’t faster than me.
“Do not play! Kill it!” Briony hissed.
“You could always help,” I muttered, not bothering to look at her as I darted in, knives flashing once more.
The remaining fingers flew away into the darkness, cut free and I laughed aloud. I had made it a great deal less dangerous which meant it was just a matter of time before-
My world spun around me as I slammed into the wall, knives falling away to be lost somewhere in the darkness of the store. Pain came to me, fast, and I let out a groan as I pushed myself to my feet. Blood dripped from my cheek where the flesh had been torn by the bony growths on its forearm.
I had barely a moment to reach my feet before another blow caught my shoulder, tearing through my jacket and into the flesh beneath. I hit the ground
hard, several feet away from where I had been standing.
“Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Gregg muttered, eye darting towards the creatures as his fingers kept sewing at the ragged wound in Isaac’s thigh.
My vision was doubled, and my ears rang as I tasted my own blood on my tongue. I pushed myself up, staggering towards the light at the front of the store. I shook my head, trying to clear it and turned just in time to duck beneath the zombie's swing.
I struck back, two quick blows to the abdomen and swore as my fists collided with the metal plates. A reflexive action that could have easily broken my knuckles. I shook my head again as I staggered back, ducking behind a row of shelves as I tried to give myself time to think.
“A little bloody help would be good!” Gregg screamed at Briony, who shook her head mutely.
While I couldn’t blame her, it still annoyed me. I darted for the door, bursting through it and out into the snow beyond. A mistake, I realised immediately. My movements were hampered by the thick snow. The zombie… not so much.
“Crap!”
I ducked away from another swing of its arms. It was instinctively using the serrated bone on its wrists as a weapon. I’d not considered that it would do that, seeing them as armour, nothing more. A mistake I wouldn’t make again.
Gregg stepped out of the doors behind the advancing creature, blood covered his hands and coat but he held a knife in his hand.
“Mate!”
He tossed the knife over the creature’s head and I had a moment to see it land on the thick covering of snow on the roof of a nearby car before the zombie was on me.
My boot caught the side of its knee as I raised my left arm to take the full blow of the zombie's swing. I grunted at the pain as the bone pierced coat and flesh alike. I pulled back my fist and threw it forward, straight at the creature’s face.
Once more it recoiled, seemingly in an urge to protect the vulnerable eye sockets, which gave me just enough time to slip beneath its other arm and leap across the four feet of snow towards the car. My hand closed on the hilt of the knife just as the zombie was upon me.
Killing the Dead Season 3 Box Set | Books 13-18 Page 88