by Lopez, Rob
“Steady,” ordered Breht as the undead drew near. The shotgunners thinned out their ranks, bodies dropping, heads knocked back. The survivors reached the shield wall, and the squad leaned into the shields, as trained, and began stabbing eyeballs with their rods. Breht darted in and out from the side, chopping and kicking, but with so many opponents, carefully aimed executions were no longer simple. Behind him, Cobb and Nobby were busy, with more zombies appearing on the battlements and from windows. The houses that had seemed so quiet now teemed with undead, woken from their slumber and anxious to get their breakfast.
The shield wall held, as the zombie horde pressed against it, and the rods were thrust until the ground grew slippery with spilled blood. Breht did his best to help, but without his own shield, he was wary of getting too close. It only took one of the zombies to grab him and he would be finished as the others piled on him. The grip of such a creature, driven by its voracious hunger, was one hundred percent desperation, and very hard to break.
His squad were caught in their own whirlwind of desperation, and the shield line wavered. Breht sliced through grasping hands and ordered the line back, so his squad could reposition themselves. Looking behind him he noticed that the shotgunners had taken to using their weapons as clubs. They’d run out of ammunition. Zak was whirling like a dervish, slicing through undead body parts, and Nobby and Cobb had switched to automatic fire, shooting precise bursts to keep the battlements clear. The work group, however, were still not finished, and Breht saw Colin throw his power tool down in frustration. The batons were still not secure, and the panels bowed under the pressure from the other side.
Breht noticed something else too. Some of the zombies pushing at the shield wall had muddy legs.
He ran over to Zak. “It’s not working,” he shouted. “They’re coming from the river.”
Zak cleaved a zombie’s head in two. “Keep holding,” he ordered.
There wasn’t much chance of that. Breht ran back to his squad. Zombies threatened to get round the flanks of the shield wall, and Breht charged in, using his sword like a lance to stab one through the eye. But the broad blade of the Katana made that more difficult than chopping at the neck, as it got jammed in the eye socket. Veronica, Sebastian’s girlfriend, helped out by turning and jamming her iron rod through the other eye socket, breaking through into the brain.
“Thanks,” said Breht, retrieving his sword. The fallen bodies of the undead were piling up again, and Breht again ordered the shield wall back. They were running out of room to manoeuvre, however, as they moved closer to the work crew.
Nobby and Cobb had climbed the steps to the town wall battlements to fend off the zombies there, and Nobby leaned over to see exactly how many were pushing at the panels at the gate.
“There’s bloody loads of them,” he shouted.
“Colin,” called Zak, who had sheathed his sword and brought round his assault rifle – Harris’s assault rifle. “How much more time do you need?”
Colin couldn’t answer, however, as he was pushing with the rest of his crew against the panels.
As the zombies pushed against the shield wall, Breht noticed that the zombies at the back of the mob were being pushed to one side, as if they were jostling with each other. Then he saw clearly what was happening.
A runner, with his chest and face covered in mud, was cleaving through the crowd. With a determined snarl on its twisted features, it pushed its way to the front and launched itself against the shield wall.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” called Breht.
It was no use. The runner threw its whole weight at Sebastian’s shield, knocking him back and causing him to stumble. Sebastian fell onto his back and the zombie, propelled by an unstoppable momentum, fell onto him, sinking its jaws in his throat.
Breht ran over and took a flying kick at its skull. The zombie’s head snapped sideways, taking a piece of Sebastian’s windpipe with it. The zombies behind it, however, threw themselves forward, jaws questing for the still warm flesh. What was left of the shield wall broke, and people started running.
Except Veronica. With a scream she darted forward, trying to save her boyfriend, but he was beyond help. As she grabbed at his hair, another zombie gripped her arm. Pressed in by the advancing mob, Breht sliced through the zombie’s wrist and grabbed Veronica around the waist, carrying her away, still screaming.
“Get up on the wall,” shouted Zak. As soon as Breht was clear, Zak aimed his rifle and, with a flurry of single shots, took down the front rank of undead, each with a neat hole in the head.
The work crew, seeing the retreat, left their stations and ran for the steps. The panels collapsed, disgorging a new flow of zombies in their wake.
There wasn’t room for everyone to get up the steps at once. Breht tried to rally the rest of his squad to form a rear guard, but nobody was listening. The last to leave his station, Colin turned at the rear of the group, trying to fend the zombies off with a hammer. A set of jaws clamped down on his hand, causing him to drop the hammer, then he was overwhelmed, with zombies tearing at his flesh.
Trapped in the fleeing group, Breht released Veronica and tried to fight his way back. Zak was still alone, picking off undead with robot-like precision at almost point blank range. Nobby and Cobb poured down fire from the top of the wall, sending geysers of blood up from the zombies’ heads. Someone, Breht couldn’t see who, was pushed off the wet steps by the panicking crowd, falling into the midst of the zombies. Too late, Breht saw it was Veronica. She got up from her fall but was knocked down again. By the time Breht made it to the rear of the group, she was gone, covered in squirming bodies.
Swinging his Katana, Breht hacked through shoulders, arms and necks as he desperately fought to keep the zombies back. Zak appeared at his side, still shooting. “Come on,” he said, and they backed up the stairs.
On the battlements, the rest of them were strung out, unsure where to go. In both directions along the wall, zombies lurched towards them.
“The wall joins to the side of the castle,” said Zak. “If we can get all the way round, they can lower ropes for us to climb up.”
Breht looked. They would have to fight their way around the perimeter of the entire town, and everybody seemed to be in a state of shock. None of them appeared willing to fight any more.
“Pass me one of them shields,” said Nobby suddenly.
Breht grabbed one and threw it over the heads of the others. Nobby caught it, turned and charged at the first zombie shuffling towards him. As it reached out to grab him, he smashed into it with the shield, knocking it off the wall.
“Everybody follow Nobby,” shouted Zak.
Like a bull on steroids, Nobby laid into the line of undead, scattering them like nine-pins and swatting them off the wall. Hapless zombies tumbled onto the rooftops and streets below.
Walking backwards up the steps, Breht hacked down at the neck of a zombie. He was getting tired, however, and his arms ached, so he succeeded only in giving it a gaping wound, which it took no notice of. Zak shot it in the head, then changed his magazine.
“Might have bitten off more than we could chew this time,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Glad you can admit that, at least,” said Breht sourly.
“Now’s not the time for recriminations, mate. Come on, we have to catch up with the others.”
Nobby was setting an impressive pace, and the others weren’t hanging about. They were running for home, and nothing was going to stop them. From his vantage point, Breht was stunned by just how many undead there were. They were streaming in from the suburbs, from across the bridge, from the houses themselves. He was running at the centre of a moving vortex of hunger.
They passed the street below where the digger was still on its side. The cars Breht had shoved up against the gateway had already been pushed aside enough for the undead to squeeze through. The montage of images he glimpsed as he passed by convinced him that everything was falling apart. All the hope, all the pro
mises, had been for nothing.
When they reached the castle, anxious watchers atop the battlements threw down ropes. As people climbed to sanctuary, Cobb and Nobby picked off zombies who’d followed them along the town wall. Breht, meanwhile, stood at the top of another set of steps, where zombies in the gift shop car park were trying to ascend. Sheathing his sword, he’d taken up one of the discarded iron rods and jammed it into the skull of a zombie. The zombie continued to try and move forward with the rod in its head, but Breht didn’t bother trying to drive it further in to the lower part of the brain. Instead he held the zombie at the end of the rod, using it to block the stairway.
“Hey!” shouted Zak.
Breht chanced a look. Zak was addressing someone who was waiting to ascend the ropes. That someone, one of the work crew, was holding onto his left arm. Blood leaked out from under his fingers.
“Hey, you,” repeated Zak.
The man turned, his face a picture of terror. “What?”
“Your arm. Show me the wound.”
“It’s fine. It’s just a cut.”
Zak aimed the rifle at his head. “Show me.”
The man uncovered a jagged, pulsing wound. The skin had been ripped away, and the bicep had a chunk missing from it.
“You’ve been bitten,” said Zak.
“No, it’s not that...”
“You’ve been bitten. Step away from the ropes.”
“Please! I’m fine. It’s not what you think.”
“Step away now.”
The man dropped to his knees. “Please, just help me.”
“You’ve been infected. I can’t let you in.”
“I’m not, honestly...”
“You’re going to die. We can do this quickly, or you can go die slowly. But you’re not getting in.”
The man started to weep. Everyone else moved away from him. “I’m not... I can’t... just cut off my arm, please!”
“I’m sorry,” said Zak. “It’s too late.”
The rifle barked, and the back of the man’s skull was blown out.
“I’m sorry,” repeated Zak.
Breht was so shocked, he almost forget about the zombie he was holding back.
As everyone climbed up the ropes, Zak called out. “Okay, guys. It’s our turn now.”
Breht drove the rod deeper into the zombie’s brain, killing it. Then, releasing the rod, he kicked the body back, turned and ran.
Ascending to the castle battlements, Breht collapsed onto the walkway, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears. He didn’t want to look at the others. All he wanted to do was shut his eyes.
*
“Did you see how he did that? A straight execution. Did you see the look on his face?”
“No,” lied Breht.
“He didn’t care, man.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t like that.”
Cobb and Breht were sheltering in a tower doorway, eating the day’s dinner of beans and corned beef. Jennifer had tried to put some green tomatoes on his plate, but Breht had declined. Dinner was bad enough without making it worse.
“He didn’t hesitate,” said Cobb.
“Can’t say I noticed. I was busy.”
“I’ll never forget that look. So cold. What does it take for a man to be able to do that, do you think? To look someone in the eyes, to see their fear, and then put a bullet in their brain. What kind of mind can a man like that have?”
“Can we change the subject?”
Cobb looked at him. “Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot you had to do the same. Still, it wasn’t the same for you. You knew Harris was done for. You could see... what was happening to him. That was an act of mercy. You ended his suffering. Zak, on the other hand... well, do you think it could have been a hasty judgement?”
“The man was infected.”
“He might have been. We don’t know for sure. He said he’d been cut.”
“Of course he’d say that. Wouldn’t you?”
“If I believed I had been, yes.”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Nobby and his girlfriend were walking across the yard, Nobby holding a coat over her head.
“I see the love-birds are still together,” said Cobb.
“No reason why not. Maybe she brings out his tender side.”
“He’ll certainly need it, because she’s pregnant.”
“Really? I hadn’t heard that.”
“Hasn’t been announced, I don’t think, but you can see from the way she walks.”
Breht took a second look. “You can’t tell anything from that.”
“You’ll be surprised. When a woman knows she’s pregnant, she carries herself differently. It’s instinct.”
Breht turned to him. “Are you watching everybody?”
“Just being observant, that’s all. You should try it too. Could save your life one day.”
Breht shook his head. “You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
Cobb attended to his food then left the plate out for the rain to wash, turning and walking up the stairs to his billet. Breht remained with his own dark thoughts, looking across to the opposite tower. He’d been avoiding Zak since returning from the operation, and he was troubled by the feelings he was having. Vague feelings of having taken a wrong turn somewhere, of having made a big mistake. He’d lost two members of his squad – two people whom he felt personally responsible for, and he couldn’t help but question the futility of the operation that had killed them.
Why the hell hadn’t he confronted Zak more directly about his doubts?
And why was he attracted to him now, more than ever?
That was the reality he was struggling with. In the nights they spent together, he felt bonded to him, felt he knew him. Then there were moments, like today, for example, where he realised he didn’t know him at all. It was like there were two Zaks, and one of them was opaque. And dangerous.
Now that was a word he hadn’t wanted to think about too much, like it was too strong a word to describe him. At the moment, however, he wasn’t too sure. He couldn’t help thinking, as well, that Cobb knew more than he was letting on.
Cobb was right about one thing, though. He had shot Harris after seeing the fear in his eyes. What exactly did that take? Not much, it seemed. He perhaps had more in common with Zak than he was prepared to admit. Maybe Zak was what he himself would become, one day. And if he truly loved Zak as much as he suspected, that wouldn’t be a problem.
But it was. So what did that say about what he really felt for him?
Holy crap, stop worrying about it. You’re not married to him.
Breht picked up Cobb’s plate and took it over to the cookhouse. On the way back, he caught sight of someone on the battlements.
The person was standing very still, so at first he mistook them for another part of the castle’s jagged architecture. Trudging with his head down in the rain, he could easily have missed them. When he looked properly he realised it was Sarah the teacher, and she wasn’t standing on the battlement walkway, she was standing on the crenelations themselves. Head bowed and shoulders sloped, she looked like an Olympic diver on a high board.
Then Breht noticed the loop of rope around her neck.
“Sarah!”
It was too late. Sarah jumped, disappearing over the edge, the rope trailing behind her until it went taut. Breht raced up the steps to the battlements and sprinted along the wet walkway, calling her name. When he got to where the rope was tied, he leaned over.
Sarah’s legs jerked as her body twisted, her cheeks blown out as she tried to breathe. The impact of the rope had failed to break her neck, and she was suffocating. Breht grabbed the rope and tried to haul her up, but the swinging momentum of her body fought against him. Looping the rope around his hands, he heaved. The wet rope kept slipping, however, and it took a while for him to drag the body back over the wall. She was unconscious by the time he laid her out on
the walkway. Tipping her head back, he administered CPR, pumping furiously on her chest, but her lips were blue, and his efforts were not enough. She wasn’t going to come back.
He checked her pulse one last time, then sagged against the battlements. Now he’d lost three.
Can’t blame Zak this time, mate. Now it’s on you. Filipova warned you.
“Yes, she did,” said Breht to Sarah’s corpse. “Sorry. I was too busy trying to appease someone else.”
33
The fading torch light flickered and died, leaving Breht in utter darkness. He shook the torch, coaxing a faint glow out of it. The floor of the tunnel was uneven, with dark puddles nestled in the dips. Thin stalactites hung from the arched ceiling. The sound of dripping water echoed, and the musty odour of rank decay filled Breht’s nostrils.
Breht walked the tunnel, then froze. There was another sound, close behind him.
The harsh grating of stone.
He turned, extending the torch, but saw nothing. He continued on his way, then heard a similar sound, coming from ahead this time. Halting, he strained his eyes, but again saw nothing. The grating of stones continued, and the tunnel sounded like it was coming apart, but there was still no movement that he could see.
Was there a zombie in the tunnel? A zombie dragging a rock?
Sword levelled, he walked cautiously. The walls of the tunnel were formed of small square blocks, and Breht encountered some that protruded from the wall, as if pushed out by some pressure. Maybe it was the expansion of the soil after the rains, squeezing the ancient tunnel like muscles surrounding an artery.
The torch went out, and Breht shook it again.
A rock clattered to the floor behind him. He turned again, but all he could see were his wet footprints on the floor. Picking up the pace, he carried on, the sound of grating multiplying in his ears.
The stones were moving. It was undeniable now. Breht watched as a single block near him was pushed slowly out As he tried to make sense of it, the block tumbled to the floor and a soil covered hand suddenly shot out of the gap, reaching for him. Breht dodged the thrust and started to run.