Deadweight | Book 2 | The Last Bite

by Forster, Paul

  “I’m going to get the wheelbarrow and clean this tip up, don’t be silly. You’re human now, I can smell and hear you. Escape would only lead to a painful death.” William threatened. He picked up the shotgun and left the lab. He walked towards the old tool shed. He had genuinely wanted to make a go of it with Natasha, but he felt relieved. It was no longer a question of trusting her. He didn’t have to anymore. He reached the old shed. It was rotten and falling apart. The tools hanging were all stained with rust, having gone many years without being cared for. William pulled out the wheelbarrow and dragged it clear. It too had seen better days but would be more able to carry the emaciated bodies away for him to burn. He dropped in a shovel to dig out a fire pit and placed the shogun alongside it for good measure.

  *

  “Jesus, here’s another!” Billy quietly, but forcibly announced. It impressed him to have found yet another expertly dispatched feeder, a single wound in the side of the head. They had passed nearly 50 of these professionally executed monsters as they got closer to the house. They had barely seen a live creature, only now had they spotted them. They avoided where possible, otherwise used their own blades to kill. They all tried, but only Mike and Spencer could match the clean wounds on the bodies they had found. They got in close and struck hard. Billy and Gary both preferred to lash out at a further distance, weakening the power and accuracy of their blows. Kenneth hadn’t been given a weapon and could do little more than hide behind Mike when a feeder was nearby.

  “Farm is up ahead, 100 yards, I can see movement. A single male,” Mike announced.

  He was half-way between the shed and the lab when he smelled them. Damn it! The wind hadn’t been strong and was blowing in the wrong direction, but they were close. William slowly picked up the shotgun and looked around, trying to see who was approaching. A soldier, no, it’s two soldiers. He looked harder, and he knew he was in trouble. Five heavily armed soldiers, shit. There was little point in running. He was physically strong and agile, but even his extra speed he enjoyed was a long way off outrunning a bullet. He held his shotgun over his head and waved with a smile, putting on his best friendly act.

  Spencer directed his men into position and signalled for Kenneth to follow him. They reached William. “Hello sir, I’m hoping you may be able to assist. We’re British army, we’re looking for a man, an important man vital to finding a cure for this mess.”

  William’s blood froze. How did they know about him, how did they find him? “I can’t say I’ve seen too many other people recently,” he said. Spencer handed William the photo, a small smile at his own picture, at how fat he used to be, nearly betrayed him. “Fat people are even rarer,” he added and handed the photo back to Spencer, who stared at him.

  “Are you alone here?” Spencer questioned, but didn’t stop staring.

  “Yes. Just me, I’m afraid,” William responded. There was very little truth that he was willing to tell these men.

  Spencer looked over to the field with the group of feeders who had become agitated at the sight, smell and sound of food. “Would you like us to take care of them for you?”

  “There’s no need, really, I can handle them,” William declined. He looked Kenneth up and down. The strangely dressed giant only had one hand and that interested him. This man was possibly a rare bite survivor.

  “I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Spencer spoke again, his gaze was uncomfortable for William. “I think we might have seen your handiwork on the way over, you’re good with a knife,” he complimented. Too good, he thought.

  “I’ve had plenty of time to practice,” William replied. He knew they were suspicious, he just had to play it cool.

  “Are you doing okay for food, medicines?” he questioned. Still Spencer stared, examining every wrinkle, blemish or scar on William’s face.

  “I have a small supply, always on the lookout for a little more, of course,” William answered. These soldiers would no doubt have been a tastier meal than any secured in his cellar. Better fed, and in better shape. He knew the thought of eating them would be as close as he got. He’d be lucky to take a single bite before they floored him.

  “Do you mind if we look around, we won’t be long?” Less a request, more a statement from Spencer.

  William’s eyes looked straight at the barn, his lab. As soon as a soldier would step inside, he was a dead man. “The barn isn’t safe, there’s a family of those things in there. I’ve just kept them sealed in and they haven’t been a bother.”

  “Don’t worry about that, room clearance is one of our specialties, we’ll sort them out for you. I wouldn’t feel like I’ve done my job if we left you in peril,” Spencer offered. He didn’t trust this man. If he didn’t want them in the barn, that’s the only place Spencer wanted to be.

  Shit. William looked at his shotgun in the wheelbarrow. It would be hard, but maybe he could get to it, if the soldier and the one-handed giant looked away for a moment.

  “Gary, Mike! The barn, several hostiles, engage!” Spencer ordered as he looked away, William was tempted to move, but didn’t.

  Mike and Gary jogged into position and stood either side of the doorway, weapons ready. If the opponents were human, they may have tossed in a flash bang first, but with a typical feeder, better to calmly enter and begin shooting at your leisure. They tried the door, and much to their surprise it opened. They entered one after the other. The expected instant burst of gunfire didn’t occur. Spencer shouldered his rifle to look down his scope at the barn to see any signs of what his men were doing.

  Mike ran out of the barn, “It’s him, it’s him!”

  This was William’s only chance. He grabbed the shotgun from the wheelbarrow and tried to bring it up to fire. Only to be expertly rugby tackled by Kenneth. The tall Welshman hadn’t taken his attention off the stranger. Like Spencer, he had sensed something was off.

  Kenneth was strong, but William had an impressive amount of power, far more than Kenneth had expected. William rolled the pair over, his defensive instincts kicking in as he snarled at Kenneth. “He’s one of them, it’s a bloody feeder!”

  His teeth snapped at his opponent involuntarily, anger filling his face. Spencer reacted on instinct and put a single 5.56mm round into William’s chest, knocking him backwards off of Kenneth who scrambled free.

  “What’s going on?” Billy screamed from his position outside of the house, unable to grasp the full extent of the situation.

  Mike had his rifle shouldered as he jogged towards Spencer, covering William. “Spenny, it’s a fucking mess in there. Dead monsters and people. He was experimenting on them.”

  Gary stuck his head out from the barn. “There’s a live one, a girl!”

  Spencer approached William, rifle ready, passing Kenneth he asked, “You okay big man?” Kenneth nodded, wiping a few smaller drops of grey blood from his clothing. “You’re William Johnson, right?” Spencer asked. He looked down at the man he’d just shot. The wound would have killed a human instantly. To one of these things, it was serious, but it would heal given time.

  William looked up. “Yes. Before you kill me, you should know, I have a cure,” William told him. He was completely at their mercy. The wound diminished his ability to move.

  “Bullshit,” Spencer let out. He held the rifle pointed at William’s head. It was an empty threat, he had orders to bring him in.

  “Get your men to look at those dead people, they were all feeders. Their chipped teeth healed over wounds. They were the thing that keeps you awake at night,” William said. He had to make them believe him. He couldn’t die today.

  Gary exited the barn with the girl. She had several small wounds, but otherwise okay.

  “Why did you kill them? Why not cure yourself?” Spencer asked. He couldn’t see things from William’s point of view. He couldn’t understand why somebody wouldn’t want to be cured. He didn’t think for a moment that William couldn’t understand why somebody would want to remain an unremarkable human.

&nb
sp; “The cure doesn’t work as it should. The test subjects were all severely brain damaged, they’d been infected too long,” he explained. That was all the truth he was willing to tell them. He looked at Natasha, fearful of what she might tell her liberators. “Except that one. She was like me, she wasn’t a simple monster…”

  “But a complex intelligent one, like you?” Spencer finished William’s sentence.

  “Yes. She is evil though, she didn’t just eat to survive like me. She enjoyed it.”

  Kenneth looked over and couldn’t believe it. He slowly walked over and picked up the shotgun from where William had dropped it, looking at Spencer who gave him permission with a nod. He’d only known her for a few hours, but he’d never forget her face. Never forget what she had done. Calmly he walked towards the barn. Only when he got within a few feet of her did he raise the barrel at her.

  Gary instantly pointed his rifle at Kenneth. “What are you doing?”

  “She’s evil, she’s a monster,” Kenneth said, ready to blast her.

  “She’s human, look at her wounds. That blood ain’t grey, it’s crimson like yours or mine,” Gary countered. He had just seen what this poor girl had gone through.

  “That’s the bitch that took my hand. I don’t care what she is now, human, feeder or a fucking patas monkey. She’s a monster and will always be one!” he snapped and gripped the shotgun tight, balanced on his stump, his finger on the trigger.

  Natasha smiled. “How I miss dark meat, so much richer.”

  Gary stepped back from her and lowered his rifle.

  “I will not kill you. I’m going to let you go,” Kenneth spat the words out.

  Natasha stood still, smirking.

  “I said go, run along now. Let’s see how you enjoy being hunted,” he said. His face was hard. He wasn’t giving her an option.

  The smile dropped from her face. She didn’t move until Kenneth raised the shotgun once again, then she started a slow jog.

  “Spencer?” Gary called. He didn’t know if he should intervene.

  “We’re here for this one, I don’t care about her. Let her go,” Spencer ordered. He didn’t have any time for her, he’d heard the stories from Peter and the kid Kevin. He’d lose no sleep at the prospect of her death.

  “Run!” Kenneth screamed. She barely picked up the pace as he blasted off a single cartridge in her direction. Several of the small pieces of bird shot struck the back of her legs. Not enough to cause any real damage, but enough to ring the dinner bell and slow her down just a little more.

  She made it to the road and the first feeder detected its meal and gave chase. She carried on running until she was out of view.

  Spencer rallied his men. “Gary, Billy, check the house. Mike, get Seb on the blower and get a message back to HQ. We have our man and need support.”

  Chapter 62

  The Johnson family farm was a hive of activity. Four separate helicopters had landed with two more gunships flying overhead, engaging targets that dared to so much as look in the wrong direction. Two Chinooks were being loaded with the released captives, lab equipment and William, hooded and bound. A dozen special forces soldiers overseeing the medical and scientific staff accompanied them as they performed their duties. Two Lynx helicopters were on the ground, Seb had his chopper close to the farmhouse and his people, Peter and Kyle, manned their machine guns. The other Lynx mirrored Seb’s, ready to leave or spray bullets at a moment’s notice. Its men joined Spencer’s in covering the perimeter whilst the scientists took apart the lab. They were sure not to miss a thing, not so much as an empty beaker or half written note would be left behind.

  The odd gunshot rang out as curious feeders emerged from nearby fields, seeing what all the fuss was about. Seb beckoned Spencer over to join him in the helicopter. “Two minutes and they’ll be out of here. You’ve got thirty seconds after that before I join them!” Seb was only half joking. This wasn’t his idea of a good landing zone, the amount of noise and the lack of visibility was less than ideal. His pistol was on his lap, ready to use on anything that got too close. Spencer nodded his understanding and left the noisy chopper to inform his men individually.

  The Chinooks were fully loaded and their accompanying soldiers onboard. They lifted off quickly. This was the signal for the other Lynx helicopter and its men to start their withdrawal. As the Chinooks headed away, the two gunships joined them and escorted them off towards their own base of operations. Spencer and his men were climbing aboard the helicopter as their colleagues in the other Lynx flew off towards their own base.

  Spencer was the last onboard, and he was barely in his seat as Seb quickly gained altitude and headed back to Wellworth. There was a genuine sense of hope amongst those onboard. They felt sure their mission was a fool’s errand, that the scientist couldn’t be found. Never in their wildest dreams could they imagine they’d succeed, that he had already developed a cure. Even if the motives behind its creation were far from pure. A cure was a cure.

  The flight back to Wellworth was quick and uneventful. From the air, the numbers of feeders at the fences felt even greater than on the ground. Seb successfully touched down and Andy limped over to greet the returning men. “Good work boys, looks like Pete was your lucky charm!” Andy told them. He had been in communication with Seb and with command and was up to speed.

  As the helicopter blades slowed, the men were already unloading their kit and heading back to the barracks. Kenneth jumped out and looked around at his old home. It was more overgrown, tattered looking, and of course the dead. There were so many more grey, angry faces at the fences. He thought last time it was bad, now it was much worse.

  “What’s it like being back?” Gary asked.

  “Awful. I feel, guilty. So many died, and those that made it out, they took a bad path,” he replied. The Welshman teared up, remembering his friends who had died, the major and the innocent white coats. He could have helped, instead he failed in his mission.

  “There aren’t good paths. There wasn’t a right way of doing anything, it’s not like we’d had experience of the world ending,” Mike tried to reassure this big soldier. “We’re soldiers, we do what we’re told. It doesn’t matter how awful we follow orders and do what we’re told, no matter how horrific. You risked it all, it wasn’t your fault the gamble didn’t pay off.”

  “I think I’d like to go back to Nutwood,” Kenneth revealed. He wanted to be back with his new people. He was determined he wouldn’t fail them like he had failed Wellworth. He couldn’t bear losing more friends, losing Jake.

  “Spencer will get it sorted. Tonight you’re staying here and celebrating with us,” Gary said and put his arm around Kenneth and led him towards the barracks.

  Spencer approached Peter. “I don’t know what our orders will be now, but what do you want?”

  Peter was taken aback, he had no idea what he wanted. He was enjoying being one of the boys and felt safe with current arrangement. “Can’t I stay here?”

  “I’ll be honest Peter, you don’t want to be here on your own and you don’t want to be on one of the ships. If we stay, we’ll probably be reinforced, and things won’t be the same,” he whispered. Spencer couldn’t see a wonderful future for Peter if he got into the system. People like him didn’t do well.

  “We could see if we could find the farm where my friends were,” he suggested. The only other place Peter had felt like home was the farm. His brief stay was memorable, and he’d had never left, if it hadn’t been for Gareth.

  “Sure. We’re off the clock now. Tomorrow, we can start looking for your friends, until then you’re one of us. If that doesn’t work out, I’m sure the big lad will take you in,” he assured him. Spencer had grown fond of Peter. He hung back as everyone headed into the barracks. Even Seb was in a rush to get inside. It was no secret that Mike had procured a bottle of Bushmills 21-year-old single malt, saving it for an unlikely celebration. A cure to this god awful plague seemed like it was a suitable reason to crack it ope
n.

  Alone, he took a moment to enjoy the prospect of a happier future. He was a hard man, but the relief he felt brought a lump to his throat. Even if the cure was good and could be replicated, there would be so much work to do. But he wouldn’t ever have to play a part in a mass murder again. He’d never have to shoot an innocent woman in the back of the head on a boat again. Just because he was ordered to.

  Chapter 63

  The farm looked like hell but was much better than it had been five days ago. The tidy-up had been long and distressing, the mental strength of the survivors challenged, but not defeated. They had cleared the battleground of all but the giant feeder. The lost defenders granted a mass burial and a service for the survivors to show their grief and gratitude. Not much remained of the bodies, many were an incomplete collection of fleshy bones. It was next to impossible to identify one from another, but they treated each with the utmost respect. The bodies of the feeders moved to an unused field, stacked on top of each other. The desire was to burn them, but they were ill-equipped to deal with any attention such a large fire might draw.

  Bo had been stable. He could sit up and speak, but he was still very weak. They suspected he wasn’t long for this world and they had moved him to his and Babs’ bedroom. Babs had only left his side sparingly, fearful every time he closed his eyes they may never reopen. Having assumed leadership, she made her presence known and any brief time spent away from her love was spent working. She may have been old, but she knew how to be useful.

  “You don’t have to stick around here. I promise I won’t die on you,” Bo was quiet, but still kept his cockney charm.

  “You’re too stubborn to die,” Babs said and smiled back, hoping at least it was true.

  “I’ve got a little more in me. You have a rest, otherwise you’ll be joining me and we can’t both be poorly,” Bo grinned.

  “Maybe just for a little while,” Babs replied. She was exhausted, a sit down and doze in the house would have been perfect, but she wasn’t the only one needing a rest. She left him alone but with the door open and wandered downstairs. Members of the community sat in silence, mentally and physically exhausted they took a break in the safety of the stone farmhouse. Babs started making refreshments, making sure everybody had a drink and something to eat. It was gratefully received, and she moved outside to see where she could help.