by Fleet, Ricky
Sam let the flap close gently and jumped the small garden wall with ease. He approached the next house and tried the front door but it was firmly locked. He tried the next and it was the same, the fourth down the row was unlocked and Sam entered, listening for any signs of life, or death. The house was settling in the cold, wood was contracting, causing faint creaking noises which he was familiar with. Satisfied that the way was clear, he closed the door and opened the fuse cupboard door. The gas meter and fuse board were within and the plan was working just as he had intended. Leaving it open, he climbed the stairs and pulled the attic hatch down, it was one of the models with the ladder already attached, which made his job much easier.
In the loft it was black as the darkest corner of the ocean depths and he had to use the lighter to see by. Assorted discarded goods lay around, an old TV, the tube type that was obsolete now, a floor standing fan, boxes of books and old video cassettes. One caught his attention and he smiled, Dawn of the Dead, by George Romero.
“Who knew it would turn into a documentary?” Sam said to himself and moved over to the corner of the roof that separated the properties.
He put the lighter away and was plunged into the void once more. He reached out and ripped the waterproof roofing felt apart in huge chunks, exposing the tiles underneath, or on top of depending on the perspective. He pushed firmly; the tile lifted free of the timber batten and he caught it before it could slide down the roof and smash. Slowly and methodically, he removed a section that he could climb through, placing each tile within the attic in a neat pile. He could now reach the neighbouring roof and commenced the same task, but this time he was burrowing through the tiles so that he could step over the dividing wall and get into their attic. It was a much slower process than breaking down the doors, yet it had the benefit of being quiet and discreet. In less than twenty minutes he had breached the property that adjoined the rotten home of the murderers. He opened the hatch and climbed down, heading for the meter cupboard.
“This is it, you do this and you do it all the way.” Sam was trying to mentally prepare himself for the path he was about to take, there would be no undoing it and he would have to live with his conscience.
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth and used the crowbar to break the gas pipe cleanly off. The gas gushed into the cupboard and Sam beat a hasty retreat, climbing upstairs and over into the next loft, where he proceeded to do the same until all three homes were filling with gas. He stood by the front door that was unlocked and debated whether to do the same with the final two homes, but decided against it when the smell of gas threatened to make him pass out. He stepped out into the night and was grabbed from behind. Terror trapped his voice and he could only thrash around and wait for the first bite to tear his young flesh. He screamed internally, his short life flashing before his eyes and the thought hammered home that he would now be a danger to his loved ones when he became a walking corpse.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Jesus Christ you could have been killed,” Kurt whisper screamed into his ear from behind as he pulled him to the cover of the wall, noticing the dead that had followed.
Paige was with him and she held the shotgun awkwardly. She had little experience with firearms, only shooting a few shots at an uncle’s farm years ago. This was more than the rest of them could claim. Gloria had been reluctant, however understanding the gravity of the situation, she let her take it. Gloria was exhausted. They needed speed which, in her tired state, she lacked.
“I was so worried you bloody fool!” Kurt was babbling now, emotions taking over.
“We should go you two, we have company,” Paige said, looking over the top of the wall. Two of the zombies were closing in on them and more were following, if they ran they could easily outpace them and be back in safety within three minutes.
“No, I have to finish what I started!” Sam was resolute and quickly explained what he had done.
“You could have been blown sky high!” Kurt was aghast.
“No Dad, I know gas safety, you have taught me that much from your job.” Sam was calm and would finish what he had begun, even if it meant escaping again. They had to pay for their deeds and hellish, crushing fire would be a just judgement.
“That doesn’t excuse what you have done. We were beside ourselves when we couldn’t find you after Braiden woke us,” Kurt said, so thankful to the young boy for rasping out a warning as they slept.
“And what about what they have done? They have killed innocent people, children for fuck sake!” Sam countered. Kurt was going to tell him off but he was right, this was dog eat dog now, survival of the fittest and they had nearly died twice at the whims of these savages.
“Ok, let me think.” Kurt was wrestling with his morals although he knew that was a luxury he could ill afford. Sam stood, aiming the slingshot and pulverised the closest zombie in a spray of skull and brain matter. The other was getting closer with each passing second.
“Times up Dad, there are more of them coming.” Sam looked at his father, penetrating his soul.
“I will do it,” Kurt said quietly, his son couldn’t be expected to carry this burden at such an age. He was the protector and had been woefully inadequate so far, the incident with Archie still needled him every second of the day.
“We will need cover, follow me,” Paige urged and they followed her to an adjacent house and the door was locked tight.
“Mind out of the way,” Kurt told them and drove a kick at the lock but it just bounced off and he fell on his bottom. Even in the dark they could see his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Use this Dad.” Sam passed the crowbar as Kurt stood up and he jammed it into the frame and levered for all he was worth. The lock gave way and they bundled inside just as the closest vile husk reached them. Sam turned round and from the hallway, the zombie was like a mounted target at a firing range, but closer by far. The steel bearing ripped through the right eye, crushed the brain and the carcass fell backwards to the ground that Kurt’s butt had vacated only seconds ago.
“Good shot,” Paige complimented him and he looked away shyly.
“So what’s the plan Dad? I have an idea if you don’t mind?” Sam asked.
“What did you have in mind?” Kurt prompted.
“You guys find something flammable to wrap around this while I shoot out all the windows, the distraction of the breaking glass will take the zombies away from us.” Sam handed them a bearing and continued, “When we have enough broken windows and the gas is mixed with enough air, we light the bearing, fire it through the window and boom!”
“The house will give us some protection from the blast as well,” added Paige.
“Why not just use the shotgun?” asked Kurt.
“Each shell is far more valuable that a ball bearing Dad.” Sam tried not to sound like he was talking to a toddler.
“Good point, let’s get upstairs to get a better firing position.” Kurt hadn’t taken it the wrong way and they rushed up the stairs. The front door was locked again by the safety chain, but it wouldn’t hold for long if several of the horrors put their weight against it.
Sam opened two windows as wide as they would go; one gave him an angle to shoot the evil residence and the other to pepper the windows of the homes that were full of gas. He chose to break the glass of the neighbouring homes first so the bad men had as little warning of what was coming as possible. He shattered two windows of each house and then it was time.
“Have you got it Dad?” Sam asked and Kurt had wrapped an old handkerchief around the ball and sprayed it with hairspray. The flowery fragrance was a welcome change to the stink of their clothing and bodies. “Ok, let’s scare them, see how they like it.”
Kurt didn’t want to say that they were unlikely to be worried by a few bits of broken glass. As the first bearing smashed through the window, the zombies were making a beeline to this new activity. The sounds of beating from downstairs ceased and their guests also started to head
for the savage’s home. Another window was broken and they could see movement in the shadows. Either Phil or Eddie was surveying the damage and in the darkness he wouldn’t be able to see them. It would appear the windows were breaking for no reason. Sam fired a final ball, making sure it didn’t hit the target but close enough so that he knew what it was.
“Shit.” They heard the figure curse and duck out of the room, shouting to his companions. The zombies were all around the house now and had begun their attack, seeking the fresh meat within.
“Sam, pass it here and get behind the wall, but be ready to light the bearing. There’s going to be some fireworks,” Kurt told him, took the slingshot and passed him the lighter. Sam and Paige ducked down out of sight, invisible in the night. The face returned to the window and looked down onto the converging zombies. Knowing they were trapped now, he held his hands to his head in disbelief. He looked around, desperately seeking a way out, unaware that the real danger was just about to begin. Kurt hesitated, the zombies would more than likely finish the job after seeing the man and catching the scent. He could take them back and hope that the screams wouldn’t reach them, but some humanity remained. The explosion would be a mercy for the vile excuses for human beings in the property.
“Its murder,” Kurt told himself.
“You’re fucking dead, DO YOU HEAR ME?” Screamed Phil or Eddie.
“NO, YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!” screamed Kurt back at him and the head swung towards him. “Now Sam.”
Without hesitation, Sam ignited the bearing which burned with a blue flame from the hairspray. A look of confusion fell over the face of their attacker. He had no idea what was coming, he even started smiling as if to say, ‘A burning slingshot? What the fuck is that going to do?’ Lifting it, Kurt aimed at the open window of the neighbour’s house and the smile faded in an instant. The first faint wisps of gas had reached the nose of their attacker and Kurt let the bearing fly. It flew like a small meteor through the dark sky, leaving an indelible, fiery streak on their vision as it flew home and the gas erupted. The houses looked like they were taking in a deep breath, the walls swelled outwards with the instant pressure of the explosive mix contained within as it ignited. The fire belched from every opening and the roofs lifted off two feet, spewing tiles and even more fire around the base. The fireball reached high into the sky and the burst of heat was enough for Kurt to stagger backwards. The brick walls exploded outwards and the windows for over a hundred yards shattered from the concussive shockwave. Kurt had to shield his face from the sharp shards that blew in at him. The killer was engulfed by the fire as it penetrated the wall separating the houses and caused a chain reaction of demolition. The roofs crumbled into the upper floor which crushed down onto the foundations in a pile of smoking debris ten feet high. The gas had quickly burned itself out and only the hiss and fire of the ruptured pipes remained, like pressure hoses of flame from hell, heralding the arrival of the demons to carry the bastards to the Underworld.
Kurt felt neither exhilaration, nor pity. They deserved to die for their actions, he just wasn’t happy to have been their executioner. The night was broken by screaming and the figure that had been standing at the window was not dead, his body was burned and half crushed by the rubble. His face was peeling from the fire that had tasted his flesh and his legs were pulped by the roof timbers. The dead who had been sent flying were on their feet and they wanted barbecue. Their eyes met and there was no malice there, merely an entreaty for mercy. He could see the advancing horde and didn’t want to die like that, a feast for the bellies of rotting monsters.
“Sam, come here quickly,” Kurt called out and Sam came at a run. “Can you hit him from here?”
Sam followed the noise and saw the broken figure.
“I can try Dad,” Sam offered, seeing the destruction he had been the catalyst for. He too couldn’t imagine leaving the murderer to die like this.
Their humanity had been stretched, but would never break to the point they could seek gratification in the suffering of others. Sam aimed carefully and the scorched face was thankful as he took aim. The bearing was wide by inches and only caused chips of brick to pelt the damaged skin, which brought on more screams of pain. Sam reloaded until he saw it was pointless, the back of a zombie had blocked the shot and the screams reached a new pitch as the man was cleaved and torn by eager mouths.
“You tried Son. He wouldn’t have done it for us.” Kurt patted Sam on the back in sympathy.
Sam nodded, but if truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he had missed on purpose. His subconscious mind may have twitched his hand at the last second.
“We should go now, while they are occupied.” Paige ushered them from the scene and noises of death. The fire was taking hold from the broken gas pipes and the pile of debris would soon be a funeral pyre for the psychotic inhabitants. Leaving by the back door, they stepped into the night and headed home. No words were spoken. They were lost in their own thoughts. The undead were too transfixed on the fire to see the survivors as they rushed from garden to garden, using bushes as cover; they wanted cooked meat this night.
At the front door they were greeted by the others who were crying again. The rollercoaster of emotions were taking their toll and Sarah nearly put Sam over her knee to spank him. Instead, she squeezed him tight and he could barely breathe.
“Thank you both,” she sobbed to Kurt and Paige.
Even Braiden was out of bed and their eyes met and he nodded to Sam. He mouthed ‘good work’ and Sam smiled back in answer. In a hugging pile of humanity they headed back up to the safety of the bedroom, secure for the first time in weeks.
Chapter 34
Gloria guarded her new family through the remaining hours of night, observing each one in turn. She noticed they were without dreams this eve. The amount of energy they had expended fighting for survival left no chance of the mind conjuring pretend threats in their sleep. The sun begun its ascent in the breaking dawn light and it was a beautiful thing to behold. The vista was changing from black and grey to full colour. The leaves on the tree were a brilliant shade of green, the sky was crystal clear blue and the small clouds were shining yellow as the sun illuminated the cumulus vapour. It was the knowledge of their victory over the forces of evil that had given her such a bright outlook on the day. She had prayed for guidance, and the smiting of the butchers, coupled with the safe return of her charges, was proof positive. She was under no impression that the fight would be an easy one, but if they could stay true to each other and help people, they could make a new civilisation out of the ashes.
“Morning, love.” John came over to the window and hugged her tightly, the room was cold now the fire outside had died down, so he took a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Small pockets of flame still simmered in the pile, but nothing remained of the terrace that had given them their first chance at survival.
“So what’s the plan?” Gloria asked, pulling his arms tight around her, glad of the warmth and contact.
“We wait here for a couple of days while Braiden recovers and then we make a break for it when we are at full strength. We have several routes to reach the Thorney Barracks road but I expect a lot of the way will be blocked by those things and abandoned cars,” John explained.
“Do you think we will make it?” she asked him.
“You’re damned right we will.” Kurt had joined them, embracing them both in a bear hug. The room was stirring now, their heightened senses causing them to wake at the conversation.
“Good morning,” Braiden wheezed at them from the bed. He leaned over and took a sip of water for his injured throat. Honey licked him and he held out his glass for her to take a drink. More water seemed to splash over Braiden from the lolling tongue than went in her mouth, but it didn’t bother him.
“That’s gross,” laughed Sam as Braiden took another sip from the glass. He closed his eyes and made a face as if it was the nectar of the Gods.
“Ah, the adventurer is awake,” Sarah c
ommented with a stern look on her face. She was still angry with him for risking his life, but paradoxically, not for assisting in multiple murders.
“Sorry Mum.” Sam looked away. He knew they were all disappointed in him, although he had the best of intentions.
“Well you should be. We nearly lost you!” The last was sobbed and she grabbed him in her arms again, still raw from the feeling of helpless terror she had felt between finding him gone, and his safe return by Paige and Kurt.
“He did what he thought was right and we are all safer because of it,” Kurt acknowledged and went to his wife and son, “But you ever do anything crazy like that again I will tan your backside.”
“Ok Dad,” Sam agreed.
“So we are all agreed that we try for the Army Barracks on Thorney Island?” John asked the group now that they were all awake.
“I think it’s our closest and safest option. They will be well armed and trained, we could do worse for a place to hold out and rebuild,” Kurt agreed.
“Don’t forget those people in the house we saw,” Sam said, he had mentioned the large concentration of walking corpses last night, but they were all so tired and frazzled that it had been forgotten.
“We don’t know if anyone is in there, but I agree we need to try and take a look.” John nodded to Sam.
“What if they… what if they are not friendly?” Paige asked with concern. She meant to ask what if they were bloodthirsty psychos like the ones they had just blown up.
“We will be armed and if we get a bad feeling, we leave immediately,” Sarah explained and they had their plan, there was just the small detail of executing it in a world filled with reanimated cadavers.
Their world was gone, devoured in bloodied insanity and terror. The new existence they faced was bleak and fraught with danger at every turn, but they had each other and the will to survive against all odds. There were others out there, which was a certainty. If they could find them and unite under a common cause they could, in time, reclaim the world for the living. Billions had died. Many more would join them in the coming years as the battle raged for supremacy. The Hellspawn held dominion across the earth for now, they didn’t suffer from emotion, or doubt, or ego. They were single minded in their pursuit of flesh. It was their strength, and at the same time, a weakness. The family had exploited their inhuman desires and destroyed large numbers of the dead. The fight was only just beginning.