Deadweight | Book 2 | The Last Bite

by Forster, Paul

  Several more trips yielded boxes of basic medical supplies and medicines, luxuries such as toilet rolls and the surprisingly important bottles of bleach. The Frontera was nearly at its capacity, but he wanted to get everything he could. He had already loaded one case of 24 hour ration packs, and wanted another, as well as more ammunition. His mallet was stained with the thick grey blood of the four feeders he’d encountered. They hadn’t proved a problem and helped to build his confidence. Two more trips and he’d be gone. He’d be back at the farm in an hour with his bounty.

  Its nose twitched, and its eyes opened. It was like the dumb, smart and strong ones combined. It was patient, had a hunter’s intelligence, and was powerful. This giant creature was an expert at catching its prey and adapting. It had quickly learned that this abandoned camp was too tempting to any passing survivor who fancied a crack at its riches. The bait was there for everyone to see, the giant just waited and they came. It was a hunter, it could track or trap its meals. At some 10 feet in height and with a large, powerful build, it didn’t just stand in plain view waiting to be spotted. It would lie on the ground for days at a time amongst the tents, listening and sniffing for the sound or scent of a foolish meal that ventured too close. Those meals had become far less frequent, but they still turned up. It knew its prey had arrived as soon as Jack had stepped into the camp, but it had to be patient. It had lost a meal because it had acted too soon just days ago, it wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

  Jack used the same path he’d taken at every run to the camp’s centre. It was quick and offered him the best cover whilst not impeding his visibility. He recognised every corpse he walked past; the blood stained canvas of the torn tent, the mangled corpse under the crushed fence right as he reached the centre. If he wasn’t so sure it was gone, he may have noticed the 10 foot tall creature standing fifty feet away watching him. It had seen his path, the car, and it slowly, quietly put itself between Jack and the car. As he was rifling through the boxes to find a ration case with a different menu selection, it crouched down, waiting for its own dinner to approach.

  Jack had what he was after. Deciding to maximise his journey, he perched a can of ammo on top of the box. Together they were heavy, combined with his tired arms and heavy mallet as it took every ounce of strength. He couldn’t push himself any faster for fear of missing a lurking monster.

  Its nose once again picked him up first, then it could hear the pounding heart and heavy breath. As soon as it saw him, it would make its kill.

  Jack carried on, his grip loosening on the box until the tin of ammo fell to the floor with a loud clatter. He froze. He’d fucked up, and he knew it. Picking up his mallet, he braced himself and he saw the first creature round a canvas tent, its eyes locked on to him. Another ambled towards him just yards away. He was done for the day; he abandoned the extra goods and ran.

  The giant creature moved too early, eager to show its dominance over the lesser feeders who were trying to steal its kill and jumped into Jack’s path. Neither was ready for the move, and Jack clipped the creature and took a tumble to the floor. He quickly climbed to his feet as it swung its enormous fist towards him, missing by inches. The bastard was here all along. Jack took an impotent swing with his mallet, only grazing its arm with no effect.

  More feeders stumbled out of tents and from their resting places. The commotion only increased their curiosity. Jack looked ahead, and they blocked his path to the car, he’d have to run around them. The giant swung out again, smashing Jack’s thigh with its rancid, overgrown black fingernails. The pain was instant, as was the realisation he’d just been condemned to death. He couldn’t stop, not yet. He ran as fast as the pain would allow him, but several more feeders emerged at every turn as the giant didn’t let up on its pursuit.

  Jack made it to the outer fence but had no way of getting to his car. A nearby guard tower was his only option. He climbed the metal ladder to the top as the creatures gathered below, waiting for him to slip and fall to them. He didn’t. His hand reached ahead to the wooden platform and something above grabbed his him.

  A soldier had made the same desperate move as him, injured he had climbed the tower, and eventually turned. It bit down hard into Jack’s hand as it dragged him onto the platform. It was in terrible shape, its only meal the devoured carcass of another soldier in the tower. A brief wrestle and Jack flung it to the mob below. It distracted them for only a second until they realised it wasn’t their target; it wasn’t food.

  The platform was carpeted in empty shell casings and dried blood. There was a rifle that was empty and a machine gun that was also out of ammo. He searched for something of use, anything. Pulling the remains of the dead soldier to one side, he found two grenades. His luck had changed and maybe he would get to see Amy just one more time.

  The giant now took prime position at the base of the tower, making sure it was first in line. It was strong, but even it couldn’t move the structure, no matter how hard it tried. Instead, it pulled off the ladder and used it to smash the tower. It was more terrifying than effective.

  Jack carefully peered at the small but growing herd below and knew it was now or never. He pulled the pin and dropped the first grenade directly at the feet of the giant. He took cover in the tower and waited until he heard the explosion. It was louder than he had expected, but louder was good. He was sure the path was now clear for his escape. Looking down at the site of the explosion, he knew it was over. Maybe two feeders were dead, several more missing limbs or wounded but otherwise still as big a threat as before. But that giant bastard. Its legs were covered in its own grey blood, but otherwise it stood as if nothing had happened. There were no broken bones or destroyed tendons. The wounds were superficial; the grenade had done little more than piss it off.

  Jack clutched the remaining grenade tightly and examined his wounds. It wasn’t meant for them; he knew that now. His good fortune wasn’t that he’d have the chance to fight his way out and see Amy again. It would be that he’d never have to turn into one of those evil pricks.

  Chapter 47

  The basement was dark and lacked any natural light. It was hard to tell how long she had been down there, it could have been hours or days. The hunger was her biggest indicator. She was in a room full of food but unable to feed herself. It only made it worse. That bastard, he didn’t understand her; he didn’t care. He only gave a shit about himself and his precious work. She knew she’d have to push the anger down, show him she was sorry and that she was wrong. She wasn’t sorry. He’d keep her down there for a week if that’s what it would take for her to see the error of her ways. It was best just to get it over and done with immediately so she could feed. Any revenge could wait. They had all the time in the world.

  The captives were mostly silent. Their spirits crushed, they just waited for death and preferred to do so quietly. Some had tried to starve themselves to death and not eat the food provided, but something wouldn’t let them give up completely. Before Natasha had arrived, William might leave them for days at a time without feeding on them or giving them their rations. When she had arrived, they were fed more regularly, but they were preyed upon more too.

  The door at the top of the staircase unbolted, and William entered. Slowly, he walked down the steps until he was standing in front of Natasha.

  “Well?” he asked her, expecting a tearful, remorseful response.

  “I’m sorry darling, I was rash and I know I’ve been off recently. It’s hard,” she gave William the widest eyes she could, a tear rolling down her cheek. Is that enough for you, arsehole?

  “I know, I’m sorry too. I’ve been distant, but it’s important. Are you okay?” William was still angry with her, he didn’t trust her, but she was the companion he had.

  “I’m hungry,” she spoke quietly, purposefully playing up how pathetic she was.

  “Of course you are,” William replied as he moved to undo the shackles.

  He leaned in close to get them open, his neck brushing ac
ross her face as he fumbled with the lock. He was testing her. Natasha wouldn’t take the bait. He wanted her to bite or attack him so he could leave her there to rot. No. She would wait. Finally, the shackles were open, and her hands were free.

  “Thank you, William,” she said and smiled sweetly.

  “That’s okay. I’ve run you a bath, freshen up, and I’ll fix you a meal,” he told her. The words made the other captives shudder in fear.

  Natasha made her way to the bath and slid in. It was warm, but not hot enough to be enjoyable. She believed he’d done it on purpose, and that this would be how he was now. Mean and antagonistic rather than just uncaring. If he wanted her to react, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She’d play the good little housewife again for as long as she needed to.

  She hadn’t lingered in the tub and was dried and dressed when she entered the kitchen. A small bowl of meat was on the table with a note. It was hardly a meal, especially after her time trapped in the basement and starved. Again, she was certain he wanted her to react so he could put her in her place. Natasha sat at the table and smiled as she began eating the meat. The note was a simple memo telling her he would be in his lab the rest of the day. Of course he fucking would be.

  With the small morsels of meat finished, Natasha looked around. Another day rereading the same books, watching the same movies, or maybe sitting in the same garden. She was beautiful, powerful and intelligent. She was an evolved species, the best of the old world and the new one. Sitting and waiting until she was needed or wanted. She was being wasted. She didn’t want to sit on the sidelines, being on call for this nerd. This existence wasn’t for her. If she killed William, the meat in the basement might last a few months and she could even add to it. Her trip to Thornhurst proved non-infected humans were still about. She touched her healed bullet wounds, given to her by Amy. This was the other side of the world, the danger and risk. It made it more fun, more exciting; but she still didn’t want to die. She was strong, but not immortal. Food would run out eventually, and then that would be the worst possible death.

  The time to reflect in the comfort of the cottage, with a small amount of food in her belly, had helped her to think straight. She would be free again one day. He’d create his cure, and then she could have her revenge and do whatever the fuck she wanted.

  Chapter 48

  When she had woken that morning, Amy didn’t realise anything was wrong. She was normally up early and working before Jack, but today he wasn’t beside her in their bed. Maybe he’d made an early start on the day’s work, or maybe he was making her a romantic rice and baked bean breakfast in bed. She ached from the previous days’ exertions but was enjoying the quiet and extra rest. It couldn’t last forever, the day had to start and she couldn’t lay in bed all day. She had to be seen to pull her weight.

  Having clothed herself, she made her way downstairs, expecting to see Jack with his smile in the kitchen. She only saw Babs, who couldn’t bring herself to look at Amy.

  Heading outside, she could see the usual array of community members performing their chores. The work on the trenches continued, albeit at a less enthused rate. Anyone who looked at Amy quickly looked back away. Bo was in his seat, staring straight forward.

  “Do I have a horrible rash on my face or did I piss everyone off?” Amy asked. She wasn’t sure why she was being given the cold shoulder.

  “Amy sweetheart, I will not beat around the bush. The daft twat has done something fucking stupid. I didn’t know about it until a couple of these retards told me. He’s gone back to the camp,” Bo said. He hadn’t suspected Jack would do something as stupid as to go it alone.

  Amy’s face dropped, “Why? When?”

  “I’m guessing the kid wanted to impress his bird, that’s why we do most of the stupid things we do.”

  “You should have come and got me,” she scolded. Amy was in a panic, this was all her fault. “Is the rifle fixed?”

  Bo already had it next to him and handed it to her with a magazine. “It works, fine. For a piece of junk.”

  Amy loaded the magazine and cycled the action. “I need to go.”

  “The Shogun is fuelled and ready to go. So are Wes and Abdul,” he said. Bo hadn’t sat idly, he’d arranged transport and help for Amy as he knew she would go after Jack no matter what.

  “I don’t need to risk any more lives,” Amy replied. She was angry at what Jack had done and concerned for him.

  “I’m not worried about you, that’s the last fucking good motor we have, you can look after yourself,” he told her. Bo was only half joking.

  Amy didn’t have time to argue and made her way to the four-wheel-drive car. Wes and Abdul were already waiting. Both men were in their forties, a banker and a solicitor. Intelligent, useful men before society fell, now their education and accomplishments counted for little. Like many others, they both eager to prove their worth.

  Amy took the front passenger seat and off they went. The drive felt like it was taking an unnecessarily long time. Frequently she snapped at Wes and belittled his driving abilities. It was out of character. Neither man took her jabs seriously. They knew why she was acting the way she was. Despite how she perceived the journey, they’d made it in a decent twenty-five minutes.

  When they arrived at the camp, the white Frontera was plain to see, parked close to the camp. It was almost as obvious as the thirty-odd feeders and the gigantic bastard under one tower. Amy exited the car and raised the carbine to her shoulder and stared through the optics. She couldn’t see him. And then he stood up. He’s okay! He was alive, they could get him out, they just needed a plan. Quickly he crouched back down in the tower, shortly after a minor explosion rocked his mob below. Amy stared intently through the sight at the tower. Jack stood back up and looked down at the feeders. Amy moved her focus to them and saw what Jack would have seen. It wasn’t a stack of bodies, few had stayed down and those that did seemed to be flailing their limbs and snapping their angry mouths displayed they were far from harmless.

  “Wes, you’re going to drive us down to our other car. Abdul, you’re going to drive that back to this spot. I’ll cause an almighty distraction and draw them away from Jack. Wes, when he’s clear, sweep him up,” she ordered. The men nodded, happy to be useful, happier still to be doing it in the relative safety of a car.

  The sound of the Shogun barely registered with the mob. They had a meal nearly within grasp. At the Frontera, Abdul leapt out and started the engine. It ran, and he drove off back to their starting position. The Shogun drove closer to Jack’s tower and Amy leapt out. “Don’t stop moving, unless one of us is jumping in,” she said. The car sped away, leaving Amy vulnerable in the field one hundred yards from Jack.

  He’d seen them arrive, and his heart had sunk. He couldn’t let them risk their lives for him, he was already dead. When he saw Amy alone and on foot, he knew she was about to try something brave, and utterly stupid.

  Amy raised the rifle, this time to do more than just look. She snatched at the trigger and started sending aimed shots at the creature’s besieging Jack. She didn’t have enough rounds for them all, that wasn’t the point. She just needed them to see her as an easier meal than Jack and start chasing her. Several broke away and did just that, but not enough.

  “Stay away! Stay away!” Jack screamed at the top of his lungs at Amy, but above the sound of the car engines, the murmuring of the dead and her own gunshots, it was futile. He tried waving his hands, signalling for her to go back, but she wasn’t looking at him. She only had eyes for the feeders she was shooting at.

  Fifty yards away and she’d used ten rounds and only got the attention of four of the stinking bastards. “Come and get me, you fucks!” she yelled. Her screams failed to attract any more. The giant glanced over at her, then back to Jack.

  It was now or never. Jack looked at Amy one last time. Tears ran down his cheeks as he readied himself. He pulled the pin on the grenade, the fuse would take less than five seconds to detonate the e
xplosive. His last five seconds. He had one more fuck you for these pricks. Holding the grenade to his chest with both hands, he jumped to the mob below. He didn’t hit the ground before it exploded. The effect of the grenade exploding nearly two metres in the air had a greater effect on the monsters. Several fell to head wounds that would permanently remove them from the world. The giant was again mostly unharmed, nothing terminal at least. Jack died immediately, the explosion opening his rib cage, removing an arm and snapping his head backwards so violently it was nearly removed. He had made sure he wouldn’t join the ranks of the dead.

  Amy stopped and stared, unable to comprehend what she just witnessed, what Jack had just done. He was the little bit of normal she had in the world, and now he was gone. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the sight of his remains being fought over by those horrific creatures.

  All but one competed for a mouthful. The giant didn’t have any interest in its former prey. It was spoiled and incomplete. It could pick up the body and take it from the others but it let them be distracted. It saw her. She would make a better treat.

  Amy tried to gather herself. She wanted to run amongst them, screaming and lashing out at every single rotten beast. Caving their heads in with her own bare hands.

  It walked through the other feeders, stepping on those fallen and knocking others out of its path. It quickened its pace as it strode towards her.

  Amy snapped out of her trance and saw it beginning to close on her. Shouldering the rifle, she fired off several aimed shots towards its head. A clear strike in its forehead should have dropped it like a sack of spuds, but it barely acknowledged the hit. A head-shot on anything should be a kill. Four more rounds, one more hit, and no more luck. Instinct kicked in as it was less than thirty yards away and she ran. Its wide strides helped it effortlessly keep up and even move closer to her as she ran with all her might. She braved a glance back towards her pursuer and tripped. Her leg opening on a jagged piece of shrapnel at the corner of a small shell crater. Quickly she hobbled back to her feet and ran through the pain, the warm blood flowing from the wound on her ankle.