Deadweight | Book 2 | The Last Bite

by Forster, Paul

  Abdul had seen the struggle playing out and had driven round to intercept her. The white car caught the corner of her eye as it closed in from her right-hand side. She had one chance to live. The car pulled up alongside her as the giant was within ten yards of them. The car slowed to match Amy’s pace a few feet from her. Her arm outstretched and fumbled for the door handle, opening it with her fingertips. Abdul slowed the car ever so slightly, allowing Amy to open the door and throw herself inside.

  Her legs still dangling out, Abdul put his foot down and put distance between them. Blood flicked across the field from her leg at every bump or shudder of the car until she could fully climb in.

  The car disappeared with the Shogun, leaving the giant in the field, having again missed out on a meal. Its nostrils flared, and it crouched over, touching the blades of blood splattered grass. Bringing its fingertips to its face, it heavily sniffed the scent of the blood as if enjoying the first cigarette of the day. It didn’t turn back to its favoured hunting grounds, they’d proved increasingly fruitless. Sniffing the blood and then the air once again, it slowly followed the direction of the cars.

  Chapter 49

  She hadn’t spoken a single word in hours. The car journey back had been awkward, the silence deafening. Amy gazed out of the window the whole time, processing what had occurred, what Jack had done. Everyone had lost someone, it wasn’t new. Death was this new world, and she felt shame of how sad she felt. She gave everything for the community and she still couldn’t give herself permission to cry, to explode into tears. The two cars pulled into the farm and Bo was waiting. He looked at the occupants, only counting the three and not the fourth he was hoping for.

  Jack hadn’t returned, but the large beat-up white car had. Bo knew it wasn’t good, and the look on Amy’s face confirmed it. She ran to him and hugged him.

  “It’s alright sweetheart, it’ll be alright,” Bo spoke gently. He knew the words would do little to help, but he was never one for silence.

  “Why Bo? Why did he do it?” she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  “He was a good kid, brave and selfless. Look at the car, look at all the loot he got. He didn’t get that for himself, he got it for us, for everyone,” Bo consoled her. He took Amy in his arm and walked to the near full car as it was being unloaded. “Food, meds, and bullets. The kid done good.”

  “It wasn’t his job to do that, it was mine!” she shouted. She was angry with herself, she should have been there, she should have been the one who died.

  “No Amy, your job ain’t to do every bloody thing. We’re lucky, it’s not like those first few days with just old buggers like me. Look around, we have strong, young and capable people everywhere now. And just like you and that kid, they’re all daft enough to want to risk the little they have to give back the rest of us,” Bo said. Despite feeling less important in the camp, he was proud of everyone. They all pulled their weight, they all pitched in, and he trusted every single one of them.

  “I’m going to need a day Bo,” she said. Amy’s head felt heavy, her arms and legs weighted her down. She just wanted to be alone.

  “Sweetheart take two. Fuck it, take the week. You’ve earned it, we’ll keep this rabble in line,” Bo said as he squeezed Amy and smiled.

  Amy stepped back, wiping away the single tear that had forced its way down her cheek. With her head down, she walked into the farmhouse, wishing everyone would stop staring, even though they weren’t.

  Bo got closer to the car. They had emptied its haul. A selection of goods; food, medicine and ammunition. The small group surrounding the bounty wanted to smile at what had been brought to them, but aware it had cost the life of one of their own.

  “Save me one of the bog rolls, get everything else into the stores and the ammo in the armoury,” Bo spoke softly, not wanting Amy to hear.

  *

  It had been walking longer than it had done since it found the camp. Its muscles didn’t tire, its breath never became short. It just carried on, pausing only to listen for its prey, or sniff the air to regain its scent. It didn’t care for the wrecked cars, the burned out properties or the rubble it had to step over. The occasional corpse stole its attention, but the flesh had long since been stripped. Just the disappointing bones remained.

  Several feeders had followed it from the camp, where the giant one went, food was never far away. As it progressed through the country roads, past the small abandoned villages and past the farm shops, others joined it. A handful turned into 20, turned into 50. Soon a horde had grown and continued to grow, all following their uncaring leader. It knew it’d feed first and barely acknowledged its army, only showing irritation that their groans made it impossible to listen. Its nose wouldn’t fail it. It could still smell her, no matter how faint it could follow. It might take a day or even two, but eventually it would find her and her friends.

  Chapter 50

  Amy had treated herself to a day to cry, but she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of mourning her love any longer. There was too much to do and too many people that depended on her. With Jack gone, they were one able body down, but patrols still needed to be made. The perimeter wouldn’t watch itself, and the threat was as high as ever. Several members of the community had offered to help, to keep her company, but she had refused. She didn’t want to be directly responsible for another life, not yet.

  The usual loop felt quiet on her own. As she walked along the boundary she missed his voice, his laugh. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she wouldn’t allow it and mopped it away quickly with her hand. This world was damned, millions were dead, or worse, and they had so little to hold on to. But they had something, more than they had any right to hope for. Jack had given his life for the community, for her. He shouldn’t have died, but nothing would bring him back.

  *

  The horde was impressive. Nearly a hundred feeders followed the giant. Big ones, common ones, and strong ones made up its army. It struggled to keep the scent of its prey. If it had been capable, it would have been worried. Instead it pressed on, it had no idea how close it was. The narrow country roads led the creature to a crossroads. It stood for a moment and allowed its nostrils to flare. It sniffed to its left, then its right, before facing forward. A small stone wall lay between it and the long grass. It would have been able to step over it easily, barely an inconvenience, but the rest, all but the strong ones, would struggle. It knew it needed its army. Clenching its oversized fists, it struck at a section of the wall, knocking the first layer of stones clear. Swinging wildly, grunting with the effort, the strikes proved effect as a narrow opening appeared. Two more blows and the job was complete. It led the way through and the horde followed.

  *

  Amy had been patrolling for nearly two hours. She hadn’t stopped once. Slowly and carefully she walked, trying her hardest to pay attention to her surroundings whilst haunted by her memories. Plagued by her most recent loss. Her thirst distracted her sufficiently to take a seat in the grass. Swigging from her water bottle she reached into her pouch producing a handful of raw pea pods. She looked at the outermost boundary ahead. Something caught her attention as she popped one of the fresh pods into her mouth with a crunch. Probably a dog or lone feeder. She squinted, but still struggled to confirm what it was. Another pea pod burst open in her teeth. It drifted, swaying. It was one of them. It was a way off, but in their territory, and she would have to deal with it and investigate where it got through. Another drink of water and the remaining pea pods consumed. She stood up. Shit.

  It wasn’t just one; it was over a hundred of them. And it was there. Huge and disgusting, towering over its army, it had to be the same one that killed Jack. How had it found them? Why? Amy held the handle of her machete tight in its sheath strapped to her leg. She wished for a rifle, the machete would be useless against so many. Even the rifle wouldn’t be a match for their rotting force. She noticed the big ones; they looked far less imposing next to the giant. Several of the grey fiends were
pushing ahead of the main group. They ran at an unreasonably quick pace compared to their compatriots. The powerful feeders, at least three of them. The only type missing were the intelligent ones, although she half expected to see Natasha riding the giants back, leading them to the kill.

  They had either seen or smelled Amy; it didn’t matter which. The damned things knew she was there. She paused for a moment. She thought she should lead them away from the settlement, from the community. But these weren’t dumb feeders who stumbled across lunch, they had found them. Found her. The powerful ones were so fast they’d be on her in no time and she’d be unable to fight them off. Once they’d fought over her meagre corpse, they’d surely follow the scent to the rest of her people, with no warning they’d be decimated. She broke into a sprint back towards the farmhouse. She had to warn them.

  She had been running for a few minutes, glancing back occasionally to see the first of her pursuers closing the gap. They didn’t tire like her; they were muscle and teeth. The settlement was now in sight, but the creatures were too fast. She would not make it. Her lungs felt like they were on fire as she gave it everything she had. She couldn’t stop now, she’d never be able to get going again. If she stopped to fight, she would be too exhausted, too out of breath to put up an immediate fight. She didn’t have to get back to the farmhouse. She didn’t have to defeat her pursuers. She just had to get close enough to her friends that when the grey bastards leapt on her, began ripping the flesh from her bones, the survivors would see. She would buy them enough time to get the rifles out, and the defenceless into the safety of the farmhouses thick stone walls. It might not be enough, but she could give them that chance.

  Another glance back. The first of them were maybe a shade under 200 metres away. The farmhouse was nearly 500 metres ahead. It was so close, but she was too slow and they were too fast. Teeth gritted, she pushed on, pulling the machete out from its sheath, ready to get at least one feeble slash in when the first one struck.

  400 metres from the farmhouse, it was only 50 metres from her. She couldn’t have screamed out if she had wanted too, her lungs needed every drop of air to keep her going. She knew it was coming and it would hurt, but not for long. A minute’s worth of pain would end her suffering.

  Above her own desperate panting, she could hear its powerful stride. It was so close now. The faintest of touch on her back and she was ready to swing the large blade with as much force as she could still muster.

  “Get down!” a male voice boomed.

  Amy couldn’t tell where it had come from, but she threw herself to the ground, tumbling across the grass, glimpsing the creature only feet from her. The delightful sound of multiple 5.56mm gunshots rang out, striking the first, powerful creature, sending it flying into the ground at pace just ahead of Amy. Grey blood staining the ground from several hits to the torso and the big one to the bridge of its nose.

  The gunshots continued as Amy sat up with her machete. Three more of the powerful ones closed in on her as they were peppered with bullets. Two dropped, but the last continued, its wounds insufficient to do more than slow it down.

  Panicked screams emanated from the settlement. Hurried, fumbled magazine changes were taking place between Amy and the first trench. The unskilled marksman had already performed beyond their ability in nailing three of the four creatures. Now their lack of training and experience betrayed them.

  It had slowed to little more than a jog, still faster than Amy could hope to compete with. She climbed to her feet, the blade in hand. If it killed her now, at least the farm had been alerted. She stumbled, her body still desperately recovering as it lunged at her. Even Amy wasn’t sure if she had dived out of its way or just fell. She did however manage to swing her machete at the beast, slicing its cheek open as it sailed past her.

  It stopped, confused, its seeping wounds starting to take effect on its ability to function. Amy lashed out with the machete connecting with its Achilles tendon. The wound wasn’t deep, but it had done enough damage for the leg to give way and the monster hit the ground. With two hands on the handle, she twice swung down on its neck with all her might. The two chops enough to separate its head from its body.

  Cheers from the farmhouse at the victory against the dead. Amy climbed to her feet as Abdul rushed over to her, still trying to change the magazine in his rifle. Another man followed close behind, trying to do the same. “Are you okay?”

  Amy concentrated on her breath, desperate to get the words out, to tell him. “They’re coming.”

  Chapter 51

  Chaos and panic hit the community. They could now see the approaching menace intent on devouring them. Amy still had yet to recover from her confrontation but was arranging their defence. Suddenly, the trenches she had insisted upon creating seemed worthless.

  Amy had brought together the fit and the able, they had discussed what they should do in situations such as this, but everyone was still unsure now the threat was here. “Defenders form into your groups, one gun protected by five blades. The assault rifles, concentrate your fire on the big ones and the giant, but protect yourself from all threats. The shotguns, and the twenty-two, your teams are on the regular feeders. Everyone else, put down as many as you can!”

  Abdul approached Amy with one of the assault rifles, handing it to her. “You’re better with this than me.”

  Amy shook her head and pulled out her machete and smaller knife. “I’m just fine with these. Get with your team and into position.”

  The groups organised themselves to their zones. Each person had survived to this point. Most, if not all, had needed to fight to stay alive. But never like this. Never against something like the giant, organising its damned soldiers just as well as Amy had organised her own. The big bastards were tough, that gigantic creature looked near unstoppable.

  Bo was arguing with two of the younger men in his small group, each eager to take the shotgun for their own use. “Piss of you little pricks, you can have it when I’m dead, and not a bloody moment sooner!”he blurted. His authority put the challengers in their place. Amy smiled at the old fool. His refusal to hide in the farmhouse was a testament to his bravery and stubbornness. Popular traits at the farm.

  Amy moved her way to the first trench where several other melee armed defenders had already taken position. Each looked petrified, shaking as the monsters edged ever close. “It’ll be okay, I can’t promise we’ll win, but we can give them a little bit of hell.”

  The common feeders were ever so slightly faster than the rest of the larger units, except for the giant that seemed to purposefully hold back. It was more than happy for its lesser companions to eat up the first wave of the defence. The big bastards were in the second wave with the remaining common grey beasts.

  “Don’t shoot until you think you can hit the cunts!” Bo screamed. He wasn’t afraid, he was angry.

  As the mob drew closer, Abdul let off the first round. Missing his intended target, it instead landed in the cheek of a following feeder, flooring it with a splatter of grey blood. Cheers rang out from the defenders. They had scored a kill. The beasts picked up their pace and more gunshots went off. They hit some attackers, a couple even fell to the ground. But they didn’t stop. Those armed with just blades and bats in the first trench braced themselves as the first few reached them.

  Knives slashed at the attackers. Axes swung with strength. Bats thumped down with purpose. The assault rifles started concentrating on the bigger feeders, the ones which would prove too tough to deal with using a mop and kitchen knife. The line of feeders thickened as they bunched up behind those fighting with the defenders. Amy was stuck in the middle, her machete and knife blade already covered in grey gore. “Pull back to the next trench!” she screamed and hoped everyone had heard her, but the noise of the fight was now overwhelming. She climbed out and ran to the next position. Several of the defenders followed. She looked back. A few had fallen, their mangled bodies now feeding the monsters. Several more were fighting off attack
ers, trying to make some space to escape. A man and woman fought valiantly but were on the verge of being overwhelmed as the dead concentrated on them, the nearest meat. Amy dashed back to help and pulled the man free as she swung her machete at the grabbing hands. They both reached back to pull out the woman who continued fighting, unable to turn her back on the monsters mobbing her. They surged forward, and she was lost in a swamp of angry grey. No screams, just the sound of flesh being ripped apart as the trench filled with the dead. They didn’t have time to grieve for another fallen friend, they ran to the next defensive line.

  The gun teams had scored sporadic kills, but as the hoard moved closer, panic set in. Bullets whizzed harmlessly over grey skulls or thudded into the ground with little more than a pop of dirt. Bo had been saving his cartridges, the shortened barrel of his sawed-off shotgun would be little use beyond 15 yards, and more dangerous to their own people. He could see the carnage, he saw that there were too many for them to handle. He couldn’t wait for those in front to fall. “Come on you soppy pillocks, let’s get involved,” Bo said as he strode forward, shotgun held up, ready for the first target to present itself. His group followed, unwilling to let this crazy pensioner go it alone. They made it to within 20 yards of Amy’s flank quickly, just as a group of the dead tried to break around them. Finally, Bo could start shooting. Both barrels blasted, peppering half a dozen feeders, knocking three to the floor. The two cartridges popped out of the breach and Bo calmly reloaded, before firing on his next target. “Eat shit you pricks!” Bo cursed. Those around him surged forward and engaged the nearest creature. The creatures they downed were instantly replaced by more eager to take their places.