Deadweight | Book 2 | The Last Bite

by Forster, Paul

  Every survivor who had been involved with the brawl was already exhausted. The confrontation was minutes old, but the constant fight and unrelenting aggressors were already proving difficult. Enthusiasm waned as reality tore and bit its way through their numbers.

  The big bastards made their terrifying cry, one after the other until each had bellowed as hard as it could. Now the giant was ready to make its move. Its mutated form towered over the others as it joined their ranks.

  “Pull back!” Amy screamed. Those who could, followed. They drew closer to the house, bypassing a trench line and several prepared positions taking cover behind the original stone wall. Desperate to get a few extra seconds’ rest before the next conflict. Both sides had lost half their number, but numbers were a strength the dead had over the living. Amy looked around at her troops. They were beaten, and they knew it. Those manning the firearms continued shooting, their small teams even smaller, their shots still not effective. Where’s Bo? Amy double checked the survivors, but she couldn’t see him with the main group.

  Bo dragged an injured young man by his collar across the ground, moving backwards towards the old barn. Half a dozen feeders closely followed, tempted by the two meals slowly moving away. Bo couldn’t make up enough of a lead to give himself space to give the vile bastards both barrels. The man was covered in blood and weakly swung a large carving knife at their followers. Dazed and confused, his swipes did little to dissuade the monsters they were worth bothering with. Bo slowed, his old legs had been pushed to their limits, he tried all he could, but they snatched at the legs of the bloodied man and pulled him free of Bo’s grip. In seconds they had swamped the man, tearing at his flesh. “I’m sorry!” Bo said as he blasted the mass of grey flesh, but it was too late for his comrade. More creatures took interest in the old man and he started scurrying towards the barn, popping in two fresh cartridges.

  The dead were at the small wall, the living hacked at limbs as the creatures tried to climb over it. The remaining large feeders smashed at the old stone wall, knocking chunks of debris flying towards the defenders. The twenty-two bolt-action rifle fell silent, as several creatures overwhelmed its operator. His fumbled reload with the small cartridges had given them the opportunity to climb the wall and attack his remaining team mate before pinning him to the ground. Only the lightweight rifle separated him from the gnashing chipped teeth as he laid on the ground, holding the beast back. Abdul opened fire with his assault rifle, striking the creature in the rib cage and knocking it clear of its intended victim. The man scrambled clear and attempted to load more rounds into the rifle when three creatures leapt towards him, dragging him to the ground and devouring him.

  Amy felt weak, her legs wobbled. “Back, get back!” she yelled. They had nowhere to run. There were maybe a dozen defenders still in the fight. More than treble that of the dead remained, including several of the bigger units and the giant.

  “I’m out!” Abdul screamed.

  Amy could see they were down to one assault rifle and the melee weapons. They had been pushed back to the house, their backs against its thick stone wall. This was it.

  Bo fired his last two shells at the monsters as he entered the barn. He remembered clearing away the bodies when they had found of the farm of the previous occupants. He was angry that he would meet the same fate, without perhaps the good fortune of being discovered and granted a burial. Three creatures remained and came at him. Bo was old, but he wasn’t soft. He gripped the small shotgun like a baton and crashed it down on the first attacker’s skull. The crunch was reassuringly loud as it dropped to the floor. “Come on you fucking prat, come on!” he screamed at the next feeder and landed a blow across its face. The eye socket was crushed, grey blood and flesh smeared across its face. A second, weaker crack in the same spot was enough to put it on the floor and out of action. Just one left. Bo’s breath was heavy, his heart raced. His left arm tingled. “Lets have it, big boy!” Bo said as he clubbed the beast repeatedly on the top of its head as it bore down on him. It fell towards him, putting both of them on the floor, its damaged brain exposed and its thick grey blood leaking on to Bo. He couldn’t muster the strength to push it off. He couldn’t catch his breath back, his chest was tight, it felt like one of the big feeders was sitting on him. He clutched his chest as he grimaced in pain. “Babs!” he called. He felt fear, he wouldn’t see his love again, he was dying alone. At least those damned creatures hadn’t got him. He could only hope the others would succeed where he had failed.

  The giant was closer, ready to pick up its prize. It filled those inside the farmhouse who could bear to look out of the windows with horror. Loved ones and friends torn apart. It was like the world was ending all over again. Others balled up and closed their eyes, hopeful it was all a bad dream. Desperate fists pounded at the front door, demanding entry, only to be pulled back by their colleagues to rejoin the fight. This was it, the last stand.

  Amy could barely stand, her muscles ached, her heart raced. She should have fallen to the floor and given up, but the fight hadn’t left her. Whilst there was the faintest of breath in her lungs, she’d fight them. Hacking and slashing, she took down two feeders and approached a big one. It was grotesque, its boils ready to burst. Amy reached up and slashed at the creature’s lifeless eyes. The eyeballs burst with a milky liquid running down its face. Others joined in, finding the strength for one last brawl.

  The giant was ready. Its nostrils flared, the smell of the living appeared to bring the faintest of smiles to its discoloured mouth. This close, they could all see how massive it was, and had the proportions to match. With its long, muscular arms, it reached across two feeders to grab Abdul by the throat. He lashed out with a piece of metal pipe, weakly striking its face. The blows barely tickled. The monster tightened its grip until Abdul’s blood ran through its fingers. It wasted no more time and pulled the corpse to its mouth and took several large, greedy bites before ripping the body in two. Fresh human meat; despite the fight continuing around it, it savoured the mouthfuls.

  The defenders had lost their last firearm, had been pushed back against the house with barely enough room to swing their weapons, but still they fought.

  The explosion caught everyone off guard, none more so that the giant. It had been shoved forward by the blast, its right shoulder and arm missing, a good portion of its chest burst forward. It staggered backwards, unsure what was happening as its thick grey blood pissed out of the massive wound. Its legs gave way, and it dropped to its knees before falling onto its side.

  The soldier was nearly 200 meters away on the back of a Land Rover. It was an impressive shot with the MBT LAW missile launcher. Liam put the launcher down and picked up his rifle. “Engage!” he commanded. Three other vehicles pulled forward, a Toyota Hilux had a GPMG mounted on the back and the operator put down heavy fire on the horde. Two more four-wheel-drive vehicles drove to the flank before half a dozen soldiers exited and began engaging, taking slow single aimed shots at their targets. They didn’t panic, they had done this many times before.

  The dead didn’t stop their pursuit of those defenders with their backs against the stone walls. The monster’s tunnel vision drove them towards food, at the expense of their own survival.

  “Get down!” Amy belted out and ducked as the bullets started ripping into the dead and passing clean through, smashing into wall and survivor alike.

  The soldiers expertly moved to the flank and closed on the mass of feeders. Felling every one of the stinking creatures they fired upon until all were incapacitated.

  “Clear!” the first soldier screamed.

  Liam’s Landrover pulled forward, and he hopped off to join the other soldiers. “No fuck-ups lads, they were dead before you shot them and they were bloody dangerous, don’t assume that’s changed because you put a bullet in one.”

  “Yes mother!” one soldier sarcastically replied. They had taken part in dozens of these engagements, they had become experts at surviving confrontations with the
se things and the aftermath. Meticulously they moved forward, bayoneting or shooting any feeder they came close too before it had a chance to attack them.

  Amy looked to her sides. Only six others had survived that she could see. The fight had been worse than she could have imagined. She looked at the dead, feeders and humans alike and couldn’t reconcile this with winning the battle. They had won nothing. Everything they had built ripped through. The lives they had tried to forge for themselves, taken. The front door opened, and Babs came out waving a tea towel on the end of a fire poker.

  The soldiers took notice of the movement at the house, and Liam signalled for two soldiers to cover the survivors.

  Babs and Amy locked eyes, Amy shook her head as tears ran down her cheeks. Babs offered a forced smile. More of those in the house spilled out to aid their survivors.

  Liam had made his way to the giant. “It’s still blinking! I never noticed them blinking before!” he said. He shouldered his rifle and lined up the target’s eyeball before putting three bursts of 5.56mm into it. “It’s down,” Liam confirmed. He approached the grief and shock stricken survivors. “Looks like you had a hell of a fight, I’ve not seen anything like this since the early days. How many of you are there?”

  Amy looked at Liam, unable to speak she shrugged her shoulders.

  Liam moved a little closer, speaking a little quieter, “Listen to me, just do what he says, he won’t do anything rash if he isn’t challenged. There aren’t many of you left by the looks of it. Do what he says and you will be okay.”

  Another car slowly pulled in behind the soldiers’ vehicles, a Bentley. The luxury car was out of place, it was immaculate, probably washed that morning. Charles stepped out from the back seat brandishing a pump-action shotgun, ready to bravely step into action now that the action was over and done with. Two soldiers flanked him, ready to die for their boss if they had to.

  They walked Charles a careful, safe path to the survivors. “We’re glad we’ve been able to assist you, I’m sorry that we didn’t get here sooner. My men heard the gunshots, and I insisted we come to investigate.” Charles said. He looked surprised at the giant feeders carcass. “Had my men not stepped in, I’m sure you can all agree the results would have been catastrophic,” he began then paused as he saw the ripped apart freshly murdered survivors, and masses of grey corpses. “Well, more catastrophic. Freedom isn’t free, and in this dead new world you have to prove you’re worthy of survival. How will you pay for your rescue?”

  There were gasps from the survivors. This man was as much a monster as any of the grey fiends. “We just lost our friends, our loved ones. Minutes have barely passed and you dare ask for a reward?” Babs talked for the community, Amy unable to muster any words.

  “Sorry, sorry. You misunderstood. I’m not asking for a reward, I’m asking what you will give me for our service. It’s not a reward, it’s payment. You don’t have a choice. My men will finish what these filthy creatures started, but at least they will be quicker and less cruel.”

  The survivors’ relief turned back to fear. Amy and Babs looked at each other for guidance that neither could offer to the other. Liam turned his back. He’d seen this situation with Charles before, and it never got easier to witness. His next step would be to order one survivor to be executed, typically a man or older woman. Liam prayed Charles wouldn’t order him to off the old girl and these people would cooperate. He’d never done it, but he had seen it done once and it had shocked them all.

  “We have little. Our weapons are amongst those things. Our food stores are sparse or crops we’re still growing,” Babs pleaded, hoping he’d take pity.

  “I understand, I do. One thing we always need is able bodies. We’ll take that one and her,” Charles signalled towards Amy and a 13-year-old girl.

  “Just me, I’ll go. She’s only eleven. No good for whatever you need. Just me,” Amy lied as she climbed unsteadily to her feet, still clutching her stained weapons.

  Charles noticed her posture and slightly raised his firearm. “Be a dear and put those down,” he ordered. He looked over at the young girl again and decided perhaps she was too young. There were few options amongst the rest of the survivors. No one else took his fancy.

  “We’ll take you. But we’ll be back in a month and we’ll want food. Whatever your people can muster from your vegetable patch or you can loot from the local Spar shop, I don’t give a toss. If it’s not enough, we’ll take the girl and whatever else we desire. And then we’ll be back again the following month,” he threatened. Charles wasn’t pleased, but it was obvious these people had nothing. At least this woman fitted the bill. She was filthy, covered in blood and gore, but underneath she was attractive and athletic. He would enjoy her after they hosed her down.

  “It’s okay, do what he says. I’ll be back once everything is sorted,” Amy tried to reassure Babs and the other remaining survivors. Babs gave her a hug before Liam led her away to the cars.

  Chapter 52

  The survivors stood in the ruins of their community in silence. Grey corpses, as far as the eye could see, intermingled with the mangled remains of their own fallen. Tents had been collapsed, vegetable patches trampled and solid walls smashed through. Those still breathing were the weaker members, the old, the young and the lame. Those few defenders who had survived the fight could not move through exhaustion and shock. Tears streamed down nearly every face. So much loss so quickly. When society fell they had survived, but now many couldn’t see the point in carrying on. There would always be these feral beasts ready to attack. Their rescuers were worse than the monsters, they acted out of greed rather than instinct. At least with the feeders it didn’t feel personal. The group of vultures had driven off over an hour ago, yet no one could muster the resolve to do anything but quietly grieve.

  Babs had lost the love of her life, but they had enjoyed a long life together. On her own, she started dragging bodies into a heap. She struggled with even the smallest corpse, but she pressed on. Slowly, others joined her. They took great care to make sure the body they were moving was dead, and not just waiting for a chance to attack. They separated feeders from the fallen defenders. Little was left of their own people, the bloody remains were often with limbs spread out over a small distance. It was the most horrific of jobs, but it was important their own people were shown the respect to be buried, and not burned with their murderers. Everyone helped with the mammoth task, working together the heaps of bodies soon grew.

  Excited screams of joy could be heard. “He’s alive, he’s alive!” a voice shouted from the old Barn. Babs looked up, hopeful. Maybe the stubborn old mule had one last trick up his sleeve.

  Three people carried him towards the house, he was covered in grey blood and looked in a bad way, but he was alive. Babs could barely believe it, but Bo had always been a remarkable man. She rushed to her love and held his hand. “Bo, I thought I’d lost you!”

  Bo could barely fix his focus on her. Unable to talk, he mumbled something unintelligible.

  “Have they bitten him?” she asked. Babs looked at him, but it was hard to see if he’d suffered an injury.

  One rescuer shook their head. “We couldn’t see anything, but it was a mess back there. He had one of them on him. It looks like he had a hell of a fight.”

  Babs smiled at the thought of her Bo giving these evil things hell. “Get him into the house, we’ll check for wounds and make him comfortable.”

  Bo was desperate to tell them, the words just failed to come. They carried him through to the house and onto the dining table. They undressed the old age pensioner, carefully looking for wounds, but none were present. Babs looked her husband in the eye and he found the strength to place his hand on his chest, patting it twice lightly.

  “It’s his heart. Bo, is it your heart?” she asked him. Babs was afraid once more. They had no way of treating him. Bo again moved, a light nod, but it was enough to confirm what they suspected. Babs gripped his hand. “You tough old goat, you bea
t those monsters, you can beat this silly heart nonsense. There is no man on this Earth stronger than my Bo.”

  “What do you want us to do, Babs?” one of the assembled survivors asked, they needed a leader and Babs seemed as good a choice as any.

  “Clear the dead, bury our own, but not too close to any of the crops. Stack the monsters, maybe their disgusting stink will mask us for a few days from any others in the area. Salvage whatever weapons we can, everyone sleeps in the house now.”

  “What about Amy?” a concerned voice spoke out.

  “We can worry about Amy once we’ve sorted ourselves out. That’s what she would want, and that’s what we’re going to do. We can’t fight an army, in our current state we’re barely able to wipe our own bottoms. I’m going to stay with Bo for a little while,” Babs replied. She had been a mother, grandmother and great grandmother; organising children was a more arduous task than this. The others in the room went out to carry on the recovery, leaving Babs smiling as she stared into Bo’s eyes.

  Chapter 53

  The small convoy of vehicles headed back to the grand house. Amy was in the back of a Land Rover with Liam beside her and another soldier driving. She paid close attention to the route, trying to remember every detail for when she found a chance to escape.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Liam offered a weak, embarrassed apology. “It’ll be easier if you just do what he wants.”

  “Don’t be sorry, stop him. What does he have over you?” she commented. Only a few of the soldiers appeared to like the man in charge, even Amy could see that.