The Lazarus Strain Chronicles (Book 4): The Dead

by Deville, Sean

  Ahead of him now, three figures tried to run. A woman carrying a girl in an embrace that would make any mother proud, another woman following close behind. It helped him in the hunt when they clumped together like this, thinking that there was some sort of defence in their numbers. There was anything but safety, it just made it easy for Brian to hunt them. He saw it, he saw it all. They did not deserve the death he was about to give them, the child especially, but that didn’t make them any less worthy of his murderous intentions.

  His hand fell on the second woman’s head. They called her Jessy, the insight flashing within him. She was an important person once, but now just a victim like all the others. Jessy buckled before him, unable to escape the power of his grasp. Slowly he squeezed, just enough to inflict damage, but not great enough to kill. With her legs collapsing underneath her, Jessy found herself being dragged, the mercy of unconsciousness forbidden here. The burden didn’t slow Brian down. He surged on regardless, the child the prize that he craved, his horse following obediently behind.

  “Why run?” he asked as he had asked so many before them. “Just accept the gift I have for you. You only prolong your own suffering.” He gave Jessy’s head a harder squeeze, the bones there giving way slightly.

  “Get away,” the blackened and burnt face of Reece demanded. There was spirit there, a fire that few humans possessed. Good, thought Brian. He would enjoy extinguishing that fire.

  In his life before the infection, he had rarely shown hesitancy when someone had needed to be killed, but there had always been rules that he had insisted upon, created by his own strange sense of honour. Brian had a code that he followed, which reflected his almost archaic nature compared to the violence that had been present on the streets before the virus. Before becoming infected, he had never killed the innocent, children and women who had no intention of doing him harm. Those rules were gone now. Everyone here would fall before him regardless of age or sex. In a sense, what he did here was a mercy, he was sure of that. Who would want to continue to suffer in this utter purgatory?

  There would be no discrimination, not in the land of death. It was the way it was supposed to be. The pressure on Jessy’s skull increased, and Brian felt her bones give way, caving in, his fingers slicing into the brain matter. By the time Brian’s hand had formed itself into a fist, Jessy was as dead as so many who he had found here before her. Looking at his hand, he saw her cerebellum sliding off his fingers, nothing remaining to stain what quickly became pristine digits once again.

  With a smooth manicured hand, he reached and grabbed Reece by the back of her neck, her motion stopped, the child almost being flung from her grasp. He could have snapped her neck then and there like a desiccated and fragile twig. That would be too quick, though. Even with his time constraints, he knew he wasn’t willing to give people too quick a death.

  “Now we will see what you are made of,” Brian said, squeezing his fingers just that little bit tighter. Brian meant that quite literally, he was going to pull her insides out so that she could see them before she died.

  ***

  The Woman of Skulls pulled another strip of flesh off Azrael’s twitching body.

  “Please,” Jessica implored, “just let him die.”

  “You should thank me for making it last,” Susan said, genuinely shocked. “The longer I take doing this, the more time you have left to live. There is no way for you to escape me, you realise that. Even if you wake up now, I will just drag you back to this dream world.”

  “Just kill us, damn you.”

  “Kill you?” Susan smiled. “We have a long way to go before I even think of doing that. When I have fully skinned your friend here, I will do the same to you. And then the real fun will begin. I will leave you there bleeding and in misery whilst I show Azrael a pain he didn’t even know existed. You will beg, and you will scream, and I will merely laugh at your misery.”

  “How did you become so evil?”

  “Because of you,” Susan said. “It was all because of you.”

  “Bullshit,” Jessica suddenly screamed. The intensity of it was astounding, Clay actually backing up a step, uncertainty rippling through him.

  “Calm dog,” Susan ordered. But she had felt it too, a power that the immune should never be able to possess here.

  “Enough of this,” Jessica demanded. Pushing herself up off the floor, she decided now was the time to end it. Too many games were being played, so she would goad Susan’s dog into killing her. As big as he was, Jessica took a step forward and slapped Clay across the face. She expected her hand to sting with a million poisoned needles, but it was Clay who felt the pain.

  He howled in agony, steam rising from where she had struck him. Jessica looked at her own hand, witnessed the pinkness there as if her skin had instantly healed. It quickly began to blacken again, but for an instant, she had witnessed the power she was able to wield in this place.

  Of course, it all made sense.

  “Bring her down, dog,” Susan commanded, but Clay didn’t follow her command. Instead, he just stood there, clutching the wound on his face, tremors of fear coursing through him. Jessica hit him again, this time with her fist, another deep burn forming, the side of Clay’s head caving in slightly as if she had used a sledgehammer. Clay collapsed to the ground and began to buck and gyrate as if he was having some sort of fit. Despite the movement, Jessica found it easy to put her foot on Clay’s neck, his flesh feeling soft and pliable beneath her weight. If only she had discovered this sooner.

  “Let Azrael go, or I will kill your dog,” Jessica demanded, surprised by her own courage. Ignoring her growing doubts, Susan laughed at the audacity of it.

  “How’s about I go one better. You release my dog,” Susan said, grabbing one of Azrael’s dangling arms, “or I start removing limbs.” Stalemate, or so it seemed.

  “Screw this.” Looking at the broken and dangling form of Azrael, Jessica knew there was only one thing she could do. Azrael was lost, no matter what happened here, so Jessica pushed down hard with her foot, hearing the crunch, feeling the bones in Clay’s neck crack as she broke his spine. She never knew she could display such strength, Clay breaking like fragile and brittle clay despite his apparent size.

  Lying in the bathroom of the real, the body of Clay lurched as his life was ended.

  “You fucking bitch,” Susan roared. With hardly any effort at all, she ripped the arm from Azrael’s body and flung his now useless form away to the side. “Let’s see you try that shit with me.”

  ***

  Brian found he was enjoying the torment of this one. The enjoyment wasn’t the purpose of why he was doing this, it was just a bonus. He hadn’t killed them yet, although he knew he should have. He was taking too long, but he couldn’t resist trying to break Reece first. The child was no longer in her arms. Instead, it sat rocking helplessly by his feet, unable to help the woman who was trying valiantly to save her.

  “Brian, I need you.” The words hit him like a bullet, and Brian staggered, dropping Reece to the ground. Instantly she crawled away, despite the broken arm he had inflicted on her. A pain ripped through Brian’s soul, not a physical agony, but a psychological warning that he was facing impending loss. Susan, the one who had made him, was in trouble.

  How could that be? How could anything here be considered a threat? Reece was all but forgotten, and Brian turned and ran to where he knew Susan was. She needed him, and he would answer the call. His horse appeared out of the heat, and Brian mounted it easily, the ground churning under the hooves as The Reborn went to the aid of his mistress.

  “What happened, Clarice?” Lizzy asked, crawling over to her protector.

  “I don’t know,” Reece answered. She tried to stand and managed it on the third attempt. As painful as her arm was, it just added to the overall purgatory that her body was in. “You will have to walk Lizzy. I can’t carry you anymore.”

  “Ok,” Lizzy said. “But where will we go?”

  “Anywhere,” R
eece answered. “Anywhere but here.” In the distance, the mountains beckoned as did the rest of those who remained immune to Lazarus. As the dust cleared from where the horse had churned up the ground, figures appeared. They were like Reece, naked and afraid, but they came anyway, detecting a shift in what was happening here. Two of them took Reece gently, helping her stay upright, their touch poisonous but welcome. Another offered a hand down to Lizzy who took it gladly. They couldn’t defend themselves against The Woman of Skulls, but the immune could help each other in their need.

  “Wherever we go,” Reece said to Lizzy, “I promise we will stay together.”

  26.08.19

  The Peak District, UK

  Tom tried everything he could to wake his sister up, but she remained comatose. This had happened before, to the soldier called Whittaker, and while Tom hadn’t been there to witness the torment, he had seen the aftermath. A broken and desecrated body that had been buried by men that were rapidly getting closer to losing all hope.

  Nick stood next to him, once again helpless against an enemy he couldn’t understand or fight. He had promised Azrael he would protect her, but how could he when he had no power in that other world? Fortunately, Jessica made no sound, and her limbs remained remarkably undamaged.

  “What do we do?” Tom begged him.

  “Pray,” was all Nick could add. Tom suddenly grabbed him, desperation perhaps overriding the fear he should have held for his actions. Nick just let him, propelled backwards slightly, knowing that he wasn’t the true intent of Tom’s anger.

  “Do something, damn you,” Tom demanded, Nick never breaking eye contact. Gently, Nick placed his hands over Tom’s, slowly breaking the hold he had.

  “There’s nothing I can do,” Nick said. There was sadness in his words. He felt useless, a hammer against the sand of fate. All his skills and all his training were for nothing here. There was no target he could argue with or fight. The only thing he could do was stand helplessly and watch people around him die.

  “Nick.” The voice broke through the tension, transmitted by the radio that Nick wore permanently now. He pulled it from his belt.

  “Nick here.”

  “We’ve got problems here, Nick. You better get down here.” Jeff rarely sounded afraid, but the fear was there now, and Nick found it had an infectious quality. Nick didn’t have to guess hard to realise what this was about, and despite Tom’s accusing stare, Nick left him alone with the sleeping body of his sister.

  It took Nick three minutes to come from the bedroom where Jessica was lying in her enforced slumber. As soon as he exited the main farmhouse, he saw Jeff and Haggard by one of the three APC’s. Haggard was shouting orders, men running frantically. Nick jogged over to them, fearing the worst. He was right to because the worst was now here.

  “How many?” Nick asked. It was zombies, that was the only reason for all this.

  “All of them I think,” Jeff said. Haggard thrust the computer tablet at Nick who grabbed it expectantly. The drone feed showed bodies moving through the surrounding fields, thousands of them.

  “We don’t know where they came from, but there are more than we can hold off,” Haggard said. “There’s a second horde behind this one too.”

  “They must be coming for Jessica,” Nick stated. It was the only thing that made sense to him. How else could the undead have found them here in the middle of nowhere?

  “Whatever the reason, we can’t stay here,” Haggard insisted.

  “How long have we got do you think?” Jeff asked.

  “Ten minutes tops. These things move fast, even over that uneven ground.”

  “You think the APC’s can get through them?” Nick knew the armoured vehicles were durable, but this was a hell of a lot of zombies.

  “Should do,” said Haggard. “But we need to leave now.”

  “Agreed,” Nick said. This remote enclave had been their best option, but now it was clear that if they stayed here, it would be the death of them. He could see why Haggard had refused to unload the equipment from the third APC, better to leave all their supplies loaded up, ready for a quick getaway. “I’ll get Jessica,” Nick said and made to leave. Haggard grabbed his arm, a grave look on his face.

  “I need you to hear me out on this, Nick,” Haggard insisted. “We need to leave her here.”

  “Not happening,” Nick insisted, his expression turning dark. Nick and Haggard went way back, but this wasn’t advice Nick was prepared to consider.

  “He might be right, Nick,” Jeff added.

  “Really?” Nick said astonished. “She’s the key to all this.”

  “You don’t know that,” Haggard insisted, Nick shaking loose of him.

  “Okay we leave her, then what?”

  “We save ourselves,” Haggard continued. “If they are coming for her, she puts my men in constant jeopardy.”

  “You’re still under orders, Mad Dog.”

  “Screw my orders, I have to think of my men.”

  “Have you asked them?” Jeff suddenly added. Haggard turned to him.

  “What?

  “Your men. Have you asked them what they think? If it’s their lives, then don’t they have a say?” The logic of that was undeniable.

  “Fight it out amongst yourselves,” Nick said dismissively, moving off. “I’m getting Jessica, and you better fucking be here when I get back.”

  26.08.19

  Leeds

  Michelle woke up to the noise of people talking. Her head ached, but her thoughts were filled with a surprising clarity. This room had once been used to teach geography, the maps on the wall evidence of that. Now it housed the sick, four of the five other beds full of those who had suffered the worst of it. When she had fainted, Michelle’s condition had been deemed serious enough to warrant transport here by stretcher.

  The bed she was on was uncomfortable, and she shifted her weight, which caused a fresh spasm to fire through her scalp. Tentatively, she put her hand there, the surgical dressing noticeable beneath her fingers. The frame of the bed squeaked, drawing the attention of the only standing person in the room. The woman in surgical scrubs turned from one of the other patients she had been monitoring.

  “Gave yourself a bit of a knock there,” the doctor said. Michelle assumed she was a doctor, for she had a stethoscope draped around her neck.

  “How did I…?”

  “You fainted,” the doctor informed her. “You should be okay, but you might have given yourself a concussion, so don’t try and get up.”

  “But I need to pee,” Michelle heard herself say. The doctor just smiled, the urinal appearing as if out of nowhere.

  “We don’t have curtains I’m afraid, but the rest of our guests are unconscious.” Michelle looked at the doctor as if she had grown three heads.

  “You want me to go…here?” The idea sounded crazy to her, especially as the smile on the doctor’s face just seemed to grow bigger.

  “I’m a doctor, there’s nothing you’ve got that I haven’t seen before.”

  “Can you at least turn around?” Michelle almost begged.

  “That I can do.” Michelle didn’t think she could do it, but the pressure in her bladder was more powerful than the perceived need for dignity. Even so, the sound of her own urine hitting the plastic urinal sent a red sheet of shame flowing across her face. How else would she be expected to degrade herself? Finished, she withdrew the device from beneath the covers and held it uncertainly.

  “All done?” the doctor said. Michelle nodded, the urinal manoeuvred from her hands and placed to one side. “Headache?”

  “Yes,” Michelle said.

  “We will keep you here until tomorrow. I don’t think you will need an x-ray though. You didn’t eat today, did you?”

  “No,” Michelle said. She hadn’t had time, her mind filled with the rush of getting to work and the madness that had almost taken her.

  “You need to look after yourself,” the Doctor said, serious now. “We can’t have many m
ore episodes like that.”

  “I’m sorry” Michelle offered. “I’m just, I’m not myself.”

  “Are you taking any medication?”

  “Yes,” Michelle admitted, giving the name of the antidepressant she was on. Again, she felt embarrassed about sharing such information as if it was something to be ashamed of. “Although I don’t remember taking it this morning.” The doctor didn’t admonish her, instead she just pulled the clipboard off the end of Michelle’s bed and wrote something down.

  “Let’s see if we can’t do something about that,” the Doctor said. Michelle smiled in relief, suddenly amazed that someone was showing her compassion. That had been so lacking in her life the last few days.

  “What’s wrong with this one?” the Doctor’s voice said from the ether. Michelle had been dozing, on the edge of sleep but not quite there. She hadn’t heard the new patient brought in, and when she opened her eyes, Michelle found the empty bed next to her was now full. She recognised the new addition, the nice man who had come to her aid yesterday.

  “He collapsed, and we can’t wake him up,” Gary said, having been one of the two men to have brought Andy here. Michelle watched the doctor work, not trying to hide her obvious curiosity. She looked away when Gary caught her eye though, the scowl he directed at her terrifying.

  “His vital signs are okay,” the Doctor noted. “Do you need to stay with him?”

  “No,” Gary said. “Try and find out why he collapsed. We need to know if we can still trust him.” Michelle watched as the officer left the room. The Doctor had definitely seemed nervous around Gary.

  “Will he be okay?” Michelle asked.

  “Do you know him?” the Doctor asked. She looked troubled, the smile she seemed so willing to share no longer present.

  “No, but he helped me the other day.”

  “In answer to your question, I don’t know.”