“Joe,” I say in a voice so low it is almost a growl.
“Yep,” he nods, then turns, “Take aim,” he bellows.
The front few rows do as instructed. We nock our arrows and aim at the enemy in the distance.
“Fire,” Joe yells.
Hundreds of arrows soar into the air. Like many around me, I don’t watch their flight. Instead, I focus on drawing my next arrow. As I nock, distant yells of pain reach me.
“No fatal shots, eh?” I glance at Joe
He grins and shrugs as he pulls back on his string, “Can’t be helped with arrows, can it?”
I laugh and loose my next arrow into the approaching army. As I do, Joe shouts out instructions to keep advancing. We do as we are told, nocking as we walk, then stopping every few steps to fire.
The order to charge does not come from us, but from our enemy. They weave in and out of the solar panels, making aiming more difficult. Joe orders us to halt and fire from this position. But soon it becomes apparent that we are wasting our ammunition as multiple people shoot at single targets. Sure, we take them down. But many more are coming at us and will soon be upon our troops.
As though sensing my concern, Joe gives the order to charge. Bows and quivers are flung to the ground as we sprint towards our enemy. Knives are drawn while on the move.
“Remember to keep fatalities to a minimum,” Joe calls, and I hear his order being passed down the line as I run.
As I near and I get my first real glimpse at the size of the army ahead of us, it is as though the whole of Zone G has turned out for this battle. For a moment, confusion and sadness sweep over me and I falter. Confusion as to how Brian has created such hatred in so many people based on nothing but his own wicked fabrications. Sadness, because human life is so precious and the devastation that will be wrought here today will surely destroy both of our zones.
It is here at this moment that I understand why Sally has given the order to minimise fatalities. There are too few of us left on this planet. Taking lives in this manner is so wrong. My thoughts turn to fury at the man responsible for all of this.
Brian Crowe.
He must die.
I quickly sheathe my knife, then, with a rage I never knew I possessed, I leap into the crowd, punching and kicking, pushing and shoving. I don’t want to kill these people, but still, I fight like a wild animal. Adrenaline courses through my veins and gives me what feels like superhuman strength. But in reality, many people in Zone G are unfit, unfed and untrained. Plus, they must have been walking for at least two days to get to us. They fall like skittles from my blows.
I know I am not causing much pain, and I am certainly not disabling many individuals, but those that fall seem to stay down, whimpering and acting as though they have been severely injured.
They are scared, they don't want to do this.
The thought is fleeting, but the impact is huge. We are fighting a reluctant enemy. We can win this.
My arms grow heavy and my legs grow weary, but I fight on. Someone tries to stab me, but I turn quickly, and the knife just grazes me in the arm. Blood pours from the wound, but I don’t feel any pain. Maybe it’s the anger, maybe it’s just the adrenaline, but while it doesn’t hurt, I will continue to give everything I have to this battle.
I spin around to find the perpetrator. A small, wiry boy who can’t be older than sixteen. I grab him by the shoulders and our eyes meet, and he looks terrified. I bring my knee up to his face while forcing his head down. I feel his nose break on impact, and he falls to the floor, crying, but I feel no satisfaction in my small victory.
The people of Zone G have apparently not been given orders to reduce fatalities. As each one lunges at me, I see a combination of anger and fear in their eyes. I suspect it is their leader and not me that they are frightened of.
I find myself losing ground as their sheer numbers begin to overwhelm me. I’m clearly not be alone in this, because I eventually hear Joe call out to retreat. I hold my position, buying a little time for those behind me to make their escape.
As the numbers that surround me become unmanageable, I make my escape. Ducking through their unorganised ranks, I shove a woman to one side and run as fast as my tired legs will carry me. My heart grows heavy as I wind my way through the trail of destruction. Bodies of my friends lie dead and dying on the ground. Strangers lie whimpering, as if they fear I will take them out as I pass.
I hear whoops and cheers from behind as I dodge through the water farm. Then it hits me. This whole thing started because Zone G’s water source was destroyed. Would they wreak their revenge by destroying ours?
“Joe,” I yell out. Having lost sight of him as I ran into the battle. I spin around on the spot, desperately seeking him out. If I have survived thus far, then surely, he would have done.
“Sammie,” a voice calls back to me. It is Joe, and I wonder if I am as filthy as he looks, covered in mud and blood, with sweat soaking his brow.
“We need to protect the water farms.” I urge him.
He doesn’t argue or ask me why. Instead, he calls out for those retreating to reform the frontline. Everyone still in earshot, immediately falls back into line. Someone pushes a bow and quiver into my hand, and I can see that others besides me are also receiving the same.
The enemy is advancing on us, and I don’t wait for Joe’s order before I take aim and fire. The distance between us is small, close enough to see the flash of surprise on my target’s face as the arrow embeds in his leg and he stumbles to the ground.
More of our forces join our line, and everyone who has been given a bow and a set of arrows is taking aim and shooting those who approach. I’m pleased to see that like me, they are aiming low, with the intention to incapacitate rather than kill their victims.
Whoever decided to gather up our discarded weapons deserves a medal, for the enemy did not have the same foresight, and they are helpless against our onslaught. I can only assume that they are stupid or they are being ordered to continue the onwards march, but they still come at us. Those in front unceremoniously step over and sometimes on their fallen brethren.
Then one man is pushed out to the front by someone obviously intent on using him as a human shield, who calls out, “Fuck this, I ain’t dying here today.” Then he turns on his heel and pushes back through the crowds into a sprint. As though his retreat has opened the floodgates, more and more people turn and flee. Within minutes, our arrows are aimed at an army in full retreat.
Joe orders a ceasefire but his instructions are drowned out by the deafening cheer building up around us. My fellow zoners whoop and holler at our victory. But I do not join them. The battlefield ahead of us is littered with the dead and injured. All of this, for what? A twisted power play, a lust for control. I refuse to believe it is purely driven by the boxes of vials that are safely hidden within the zone, as Brian did not know of their existence when he captured Johanna and Sidney.
Brian.
I didn't see him throughout the battle. No doubt he cowered at the rear and gave orders, not for a second putting his life in danger. That is of course if he came here at all. I turn to Joe to state my intentions, but he is surrounded by his team, giving them orders as to what to do next.
So I am alone when I walk back into the killing field. Moving from person to person, checking if the man I despise with every fibre of my being is among the dead and dying. It is an impossible search, trying to find a needle in a haystack. Joe’s men rush past me, leading teams of men and woman. Most of the teams are heading back towards the fences. No doubt to ensure that the enemy has well and truly fled. I guess they’ll also need to secure the fences from whatever destruction was wrought to gain entry.
However, some of these teams stop by the wounded, offering basic first aid to any who need it. I note that the offer of help is completely unbiased. The wounded from Zone G are treated in the same way as the wounded from Zone E.
As it turns out, it’s easy to tell the difference betwe
en friend and foe, because the fear on the faces of many of the wounded makes it clear that they think we are going to finish them off, rather than tend to their injuries.
Still, I continue my search. It is a horrific task. While we’ve won the day, our dead outnumber theirs at least three to one. I don’t even realise that I’m crying until a tear splats on the fallen body of a girl I used to go to school with.
At some point, Joe joins me on my mission. He stays silent as he walks beside me on my search.
“I’m not going to find him here, am I?”
“It’s unlikely. From what you and Luca told me about him, the man is a glorified bully. And if there is one thing I know about bullies, it’s that they are cowards at heart.”
“Shall I just stop looking?” I pause mid-step and turn to Joe as though asking for his permission.
He rubs me gently on my arm. “No, keep going. Otherwise, you’ll always be asking yourself if he was here.”
I take his advice and head to the next male corpse that bears any sort of resemblance. I nudge it over with my foot to reveal the face. I do not recognise the man, he must be from Zone G. A sick part of me takes pleasure that they too have suffered losses.
“Something is bothering me, Sammie,” Joe says as we walk over to the next fallen male. His tone is grave, not that of a man that has just led his army to victory.
I turn to face him, “What’s that?” I ask.
“Don’t you think that maybe this was all a bit too easy?” he carries on walking and I follow suit.
I snort and spread my arms wide, “Easy?”
He sighs and looks around him, “They gave up too early, they outnumbered us. When we reformed at the water farms, I absolutely believed that was to be our last stand.”
“But we were taking them out with arrows.” I protest, absentmindedly lifting the face of another dead man. He is from Zone E. I respectfully place his head back down on the ground.
“We only had one, maybe two more shots left before they would have reached us,” Joe says.
I stiffen and stop in my tracks, and a sickening feeling overcomes me as ice runs through my veins.
“How could I have forgotten? How could I be so stupid?”
“Where were his zebs, Joe?” I demand, as though Joe will know the answer.
The colour drains from his face. Then his eyes widen as realisation dawns, “He didn’t know we evacuated the people. This wasn’t the fight. This was the diversion.”
We both turn and run as fast as possibly can back towards the zone. Shouting at everyone around us to follow.
Chapter Thirty-Four
In the almighty throes of battle, four men slunk unseen past the ranks of the fighting masses. They were navigating their way stealthily across the deserted streets, when they came upon an alleyway piled high with furniture blocking their route. Three of the men were ordered to remove the blockage, while the other man watched, tapping his foot impatiently and letting out the occasional loud tut of annoyance.
When the route was clear, the men snuck through and headed towards the centre of the zone. Before long they came across a large ugly building. Hushed whispers in the shadows of an alleyway, then one man broke cover and ran, his instructions clear. It was time to let the dead army in.
He weaved and dodged the people milling around waiting for a sign that the battle was over, so they may go and tend to the wounded. The man's sprint was met with inquisitive glances.
Was this the messenger?
But the man kept going, moving through them unchallenged. He was running, he must be doing something very important.
The other three men walked purposefully towards the large building, stepping inside the draughty hall without so much as a second glance from those standing outside.
Once inside the draughty main hall, they moved from room to room finding them empty. Until they reached the last one, with its door slightly ajar. A gentle push on the door revealed a dumpy looking woman, pacing up and down in apparent frustration.
“Sally Carlton, I assume,” Brian said as he stalked into the small room, glancing around in distaste at the humble surroundings.
The woman’s head sprung up, and he saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes before they narrowed in distaste.
“Brian Crowe,” she said.
He neither confirmed nor denied his identity, but instead pointed to her empty chair, “Please do take a seat, this might take a while,” he smiled wickedly at her.
The woman ignored him and made a dash for the doorway, and he watched idly as she passed. Her bid for freedom would be short lived. He took the available seat opposite her desk and waited while his guards forcefully dragged her back into the room and pushed her down onto her chair
“Thank you, Matty and er … well …” he blustered, racking his brain for the name of the other man but coming up blank, “Yes … Thank you, you may leave us now,”
They two men closed the door behind them, and he was startled when Sally spoke first.
“How is it, Mr Crowe, that you have managed to manipulate an entire zone into following you, yet you don’t even know the names of your bodyguards? It is really quite remarkable,” she shook her head as though in confusion, "Oh, wait, I remember now, it wasn't exactly the entire zone now, was it? I believe at least one of your former residents is now with us.”
Brian bristled at her words, a blatant and direct jibe at his leadership skills. He swallowed the retort hanging on the tip of his tongue and didn't question the implication that more than one of zone G had joined the enemy. Instead, he smiled pleasantly.
“Now, now, Miss Carlton, there is little time for small talk. Let us instead turn to talks of your surrender.”
“Surrender?” she arched her eyebrows, “I’m afraid there will be no surrender of Zone E, Mr Crowe.”
Brian threw back his head and laughed, “We’ll see, my dear. At this very moment, your forces are losing a battle with my troops. Or …” he sneered, “I should be clear, with my living troops. My army of the undead is right now marching, quite unhindered into your residential areas. I do hope that your residents are hiding away or it will be most unpleasant.”
Something flickered on Sally’s face for a split second, and Brian barely caught it. He was expecting shock, fear, maybe for her to fall on her knees begging. But the look that he witnessed was a slight smile of satisfaction.
He leant back in the chair and absentmindedly scratched at his chin, studying the woman before him. She held his eye contact, her face impassive and neutral. The fact she was not cowering in her boots was disconcerting. She had something up her sleeve.
“Hmm, I see that my news of a zombie army does not seem to have come as a great surprise. My, my that little Sammie brat, was clearly most resourceful on her return journey.”
Sally smirked, “She did get the better of you, did she not?”
“Yes, that was most unfortunate, more so for you than me. This zone may have survived a few more days had she not come back telling tales. So I guess..." he shrugged, “really, you have her to blame for all this.”
Sally continued to smile thinly. My God, this woman was stubborn, refusing to rise to his taunts. He held the upper hand here so why did it feel like she was controlling the conversation? He needed to bring the ball back firmly in to his court.
“Am I to assume that you will not be giving up the zone to me?” Brian asked.
“I would sooner see it burn that belong to you,” Sally hissed at him. Finally rattled.
“I thought that might be the case. I will just take it by force. Such a shame that we could have ended this so amicably. I would have even let some of your residents stay, but …” he flicked his wrist in a slight wave, “We’ll do this your way.”
He watched her closely, waiting for a reaction, but she gave none. Her hands stayed neatly folded on her lap, her back upright in the chair. She looked poised and dignified. Not at all like a woman who had just found out she had lost everything.
“Now let’s move on to another pressing matter, shall we?” Brian said, “The vials you found, where are they?”
“Is that what this has all been about?” Sally asked with disdain, “You have risked the lives of both of our zones, for something that may be worthless?”
“Oh no, my dear,” Brian smirked, “I’ve had plans to invade your zone for weeks now. The vials are just an added incentive.”
“But why? What do we have that you so desperately need?”
“What?” he almost shouted, “Look around you woman, a series of unfortunate events have left my people starving. If we do not take another zone, we will all die.” He voice rose in octaves as he spoke and he felt his cheeks flushing with anger.
“You could have just asked; we would have helped. Taken your people in and given them homes here. Other zones would have no doubt followed suit. Yet your lust for power meant that you wanted a zone to lead. People to follow your every order. I pity you and the lonely life you must have.”
Brian jumped from his seat and slammed his fist against her desk. A frantic desire to hit out and hurt this smug cow in front of him almost overtook him. But he was desperate to find those vials. With them, he could take over the country. Even if they were all nothing, the mere threat of them would send other zones begging for mercy.
“Where are the vials?” he screamed in her face.
She flinched as droplets of spittle landed flew from his mouth. But she regained her composure quickly and leant back in her chair, smirking once more, “They are gone, I sent them away. There are only two people alive who know their location. I am one of them. The other person left days ago.”
Still towering over her, he inched his face closer to hers and sneered maliciously, “You stupid bitch. Do you think I will let you stand in my way? Let’s see how long you can hold on to your little secret. When they are mine I’ll be able to walk in and take any zone I damn well please.”
Safe Zone (Book 2): The Descent Page 25