They still hada distance to cover, but in the end, they felt free and safe.
It was now nine in the morning.
CLXXIII
Antonio the Gypsy did not stop his broadcast from his pirated channel, targeted to a wide audience. His eyes were now very dark, like heavy bags towards his cheekbones, and his voice was now much more serious, pounding into the loudspeakers of the television in the wee hours of the morning.
‘I’m still listening to the various helicopters flying overhead in Águilas, but I cannot see them because I am in here with you, to keep you updated. Why the civil guard? Why is the army present? Will Águilas be considered a disaster area by the regional president, Mr. López?
The man continued his conversation with great interest, bringing his beady eyes to the telly screen.
Just as they had been all night long.
But soon he had heard shots of fire.
Shots, indeed.
CLXXIV
‘Sergeant Ramírez!’ One of his superiors shouted over the intercom.
‘Yes, sir.’
His moustache was exposed to the sun and all of his black hair were warmed up instantly. His eyes were almost closed, as his beret gave him no shade.
‘We need you in the city!’
‘Sir, yes sir!’
‘Follow the protocol of citizen protection, Sergeant Ramírez!’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘If you are attacked, you are allowed to use force. We will be sending in more helicopters to take a look at the area. Be on alert!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good luck out there!’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Sergeant Ramírez ended the communication by pushing a simple button on the device on his right shoulder.
He bowed his head and his moustache went cold. His eyes widened even more. He had a dark yet serious face. He began to enter the city, per instructions.
Seconds after the civil guard troops climbed into their vehicles, heavily armed with heavy gear, they took off into the city of Águilas, from the Lorca motorway and the entry to Terreros.
The time had come. Cars, with their blueish lights in the vacuum of the air approached Iberia Street near the Lorca Port.
Two helicopters followed them, penetrating into the city under siege by the zombies and the infected.
CLXXV
Akira Hins entered into the interior of the labyrinth of the castle, guided by smell, pushing her way through the clumsy zombies that were crawling around in circles. The progressed quickly and crouched down like a wolf. Her feet were waterlogged and still emitted the greeish liquid, leaving behind green and black footprints.
All of the zombies began to follow her footsteps, crawling slowly, and those who were infected crawled faster than them, like poisonous snakes in the desert.
The horde of zombies walking around the castle had grown in number and were climbing up the skirt of the castle, with slow and insecure steps.
Father Martín, before entering the castle via the secret entrance, had seen a large number of them approaching the castle. His face was lit up with a cynical smile from eart o ear.
But Father Martín had already entered the dark and humid tunnel, narrower than his puny body.
Father Guillermo entered as much as he could, leaving shreds of skin on the sharp walls of rock. Father Isidoro was the last. The three moved towards the interior of the castle in silence.
They also heard the deafening noise of the helicopters flying overhead.
CLXXVI
‘We’re here, dada!’ José announced, reducing the gears and entering into the past of land that turned to the right. The tyres of the car made a noise like chewing small stones.
‘Our ranch!’ Ágnel said, smiling. He no longer had the toothpick in his teeth. It had been reduced to nothing.
‘It is closed, by the owner,’ he replied back.
‘Go anyway!’ His father shouted, watching him out of the corner of his eye.
‘Yes, let’s go it anyway,’ José agreed, moving his hands on the steering wheel. It was the last curve before reaching the house, where they passed each Holy Week.
‘Dada! I’m suffocating back here! Are we there yet?’ It was the muffled voice of Alberto from the boot of the car.
‘A moment more, son!’ He shouted back, rifling through his shirt pocket, looking for another toothpick to nibble on.
Finally, they passed by some bushes and high grass, dry, that hid the path of potholes. The cars bounced on their tyres.
‘Ah! My head!’ Alberto cried from the boot.
They had finally arrived.
The tyres braked and the vehicles stopped right in front of the large, seven room houses. Ángel had stayed there for years. But it was currently closed.
‘That’s it!’ He exclaimed, putting another toothpick in his mouth.
The doors opened in silence and they all got out to stretch. The fragrance of the trees and bushes, as well as the cacti, permeated the air that aspired hope in them all.
And that’s how it was.
CLXXVII
The moans and groans were now on the other side of the door, which could clearly be heard above the hiss of the waves crashing against the rocks.
Everyone else was now awake, and preparing for a breakfast with coffee and powdered milk near the fireplace.
‘Did you hear that?’ Diego asked, taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes widened terrible, with concern on his face. ‘They have arrived!’
‘It would seem,’ Sebastián said. ‘The time has come.’
‘The time?’
‘They have come to seek their king,’ Sebastián broke with a cough, Diego patted him on the back and noticed, with the tip of his fingers, his very bony spine.
‘Their king?’ Juan asked, with a furrowed brow.
‘They must have already taken over the city, and now they are no longer satisfied with human flesh,’ he said, pointing a bony finger to the dark, stone wall. ‘They seem to be more than just measly zombies and undead, like they now have a purpose…’
‘How?!’ Diego said, cutting him off, taking a seat next to Sebastián.
‘Last night, I had discovered, in these pages, incompressible and surpring things.
Sebastián’s face was lit with a playful smile.
Diego and John exchanged looks of surprise.
The moans sounded again, putting everyone on alert. They stopped drinking their powdered milk and coffee. Their faces went pale and puffy, eyes very narrowed and white. They were prey to uncertainty.
They could hear Akira Hins scratching against the wall, digging her nails into it. They split into several pieced and they wet the stones with a green, viscous liquid. But she continued scratching on the door anyway.
They heard more grunts in the background.
They had finally arrived.
CLXXVIII
The civil guard cars had entered in a row down the Iberia Street and the Lorca Port. In the first streets, the zombies were wandering, walking with inert arms and white eyes.
From their cars via the megaphones, they warned of the danger that existed. It was clear that some people had seen nothing and remained ignorant to the term “the living dead”.
One of the civil guard vehicles stood to the right and saw a group of people that they had believed drunk. The vehicle stopped gently and the blue lights wandered on the faces of other zombies.
‘Listen everyone, identify yourselves,’ the leader of the civil guard, with his lopsided green beret, demanded. His GAR summer uniform allowed him to show off his forearms.
They had left the vehicle half open.
One of them looked at him with a glare and whitish eyes, and opened its mouth. The leader, supporting his arm on the top of the door watched as the drooling man went straight for his forearm. He retreated just in the nick of time, with the zombie biting against the metal of the door
.
‘Is that one of the creatures?’ His partner from behind the steering wheel asked. ‘Shoot it!’
The shot scared off a flock of seagulls that was nearby, as they were right next to Poniente Beach, where the zombies continued dragging their heavy feet in the sand.
This was the first shot of the morning.
Many more were to come, and the war was released without quarter, especially between the infected and the civil guard, which grew I number.
The helicopters flying overhead had turned into Águilas.
CLXXIX
All of the sudden, the stone shelves vibrated and some cans of preserved fell to the ground with a metallic clink. The wall was opening! Sebastián looked up from his book. Diego and the others felt their hearts soar under their chests. What was happening. The noise broke the silence and the wall rubbed against the ground with a grinding of stone against stone.
The castle was full of secrets.
The petty torch illuminated his gloomy face.
His eyes as well.
It was Father Martín, with his faded cassock and the large hole in his chest. He smiled and his eyes twinkled at time. Sebastián stood up from the stool as if he were launched by a spring.
‘So, it’s you.’
‘Of course, what did you think?’
Sebastián nodded.
‘Shit! This is the priest that was chanting outside the castle with the zombies!’ Javier pointed out, his eyebrows completely arched.
‘That is so, my son. Soon I will also give you the life you need.’
Now, Father Guillermo made an act of presence, coming out of the tunnel with his head bowed.
‘And here come more!’ Javier snorted. His lips reddened in a type of smile.
‘As you can see, I haven’t come alone,’ Father Martín said, showing off his palms. In one of them was his Bible.
And finally, out of the darkness, came Father Isidoro.
‘Excellent,’ Javier said, placing his hand on his sweaty forehead.
‘You stole the book that contains the formula to the serum of life,’ Sebastián said, pointing his skeletal index finger to Father Martín.
‘As if you didn’t know.’
‘Yes, of course I knew, in the pits of my heart. Who but you would be crazy enough to do this?’ Sebastián said, his hands moving under the table and to the books. ‘But I know that there is something you lack…’
Father Martín outlined a rough smile.
‘And what would make you think that?’
‘Because you are here.’
‘Good observation.’
Juan got up from his stool without making a noise, slow and tiresome. He had his eye on a knife of large proportions that was situated next to the old, open books. The sheet of metal shined in the light of the torches.
‘Don’t even bother, good man,’ Father Martín said, observing him through his watery eyes.
Juan stopped, only the temptation remained.
‘You’re decomposing, is that not so?’ Sebastián intervened, now with his fingers on the table.
‘What would make you think that?’
‘Because you smell of putrefaction.’
Father Martín laughed, which was answered by Father Guillermo and Father Isidoro, but in the end, they knew that it was true.
Through the darkness and the moist wall, they could hear the scratched against the wall.
‘The Lord said that the dead would rise again…’
‘I am aware of that,’ Sebastián replied to Father Martín.
The priest hesitated for a moment.
‘At the end of the day, we are not here to play games,’ Father Martín said angrily, coming towards the table.
The group fell back. Sebastián remained in place, impassive.
‘Everything falling apart around you and all you can think about is eating,’ Father Martín’s voice sounded like a waterfall. His vocal chords breaking even more.
‘You are rotting away, but only the king of the dead knows the secret formula to the second serum of life,’ Sebastián whispered with a sweaty forehead.
Father Guillermo let out a growl. He wanted to talk, but the stench of Father Martín had his hand covering his mouth, moving back his arm.
‘You know something more?’
‘How did you find this entry?’
‘Don’t change the subject!’
All eyes were fixated on the two.
‘Was it you who instigated all of this?’ Álvaro burst out, approaching Father Martín. He was afraid, but his face didn’t show any signs of fear. However, Father Martín could smell the fear in his blood.
‘Are you afraid?’
Álvaro stopped.
‘You are,’ Sebastián said, now leaning on his knuckles.
‘You will remember this,’ Father Martín continued, ignoring Sebastián’s claim. ‘I will give you eternal life and you will bow before your king. Your Lord, here on earth.’
‘You will rot away before you ever see that day!’ Sebastián said with a wrinkled face.
‘That remains to be seen,’ Father Martín said with an even more serious and hoarser voice.
‘You and the army you have cultivated out there are all doomed!’ Sebastián shouted, spitting to the ground.
‘I will be your king.’
‘They already have a king, and his name is Hin A-Akila.
Father Martín let out a hoarse laugh.
‘He is the one and only king. All of you lost souls will soon end up a mass of rotting bones and body parts, scattered on the ground.
‘With permission of God, I am to be the king of the walkers.’
‘Now you call them walkers,’ Sebastián said arrogantly.
Father Martín made a gesture to Father Guillermo, indicating that, towards the wall, there was a hidden door in the shelter, where there were continuous scratches.
‘Drop the stone that protrudes from the right side and the hidden door will be released,’ Father Martín explained, turning his gaze to Sebastián.
‘So, you know many castle secrets, I can see,’ Sebastián said, coughing again. Diego supported him with his arm.
‘I have learnt from the best.’
Screw friendship!
Father Guillermo pushed the stone which lead to the opening to the refuge. The stone against stone grinding was like a deafening roar. The first that anyone could see was Akira Hins, with a violet face and enraged eyes. Her hands were open like claws.
Behind her were other watery eyes that moved around in the darkness of the corridor. There were more eyes on the floor, crawling.
‘What say you now, Sebastián?’ Father Martín said, his voicing cutting off a few times. Akira Hins’ scarf hung from her neck like a sleeping snake, Father Martín advanced toward the table.
‘Now you will be mine,’ he said, staring into his eyes.
At that moment, Sebastián noticed a foul stench that followed from his throat. He could barely speak anymore, and his skin was bruised and blackened.
The young men moved quickly to one side when Akira Hins, with her torn cloths, entered the shelter. Her chest was also blue.
Though, they followed him now.
‘Diego, that lever there,’ Sebastián said, his eyes like a focal point of light. ‘It will take you to the tunnel leading to the other shelter. Take it, if you are fast enough,’ he stopped in a violent coughing fit.
Akira Hins jumped onto the table like a cat. Her feet spouted greenish liquid from the previous day, and her head shook spasmodically.
Around the table were some of the Asian tourists who hadn’t spoken much in the last few days. They were pinned against the wall, their faces lit up in terror.
The wood from the fireplace began to crackle, and Akira launched herself against the young Asian, remaining close to the table.
Blood spurted from his neck like a split hose. The young man put h
is hands to his neck, and felt the heat that was his own blood escaping his neck. His was was completely pale.
Father Martín opened up his arms and lifted the Bible to the dripping ceiling. This pose would be remembered for perfect posterity, since it was the only one in the room as such. However, there were no photographs from the Asian tourists, who were all against the wall, screaming with the infected gnawed on their soft flesh, licking their blood.
Sebastián remained silent, resting on his now white knuckles, which began to pain him. He was certain that the zombies wouldn’t hurt him. Father Martín needed him.
The zombies also grabbed at the young Asian tourist crawling on the ground.
Diego grabbed one of the torches and was flying through the air in front of those rabid zombies I the heat of the flame.
Juan had attacked an infected zombie with one of the stools, crushing its skull, falling dead at Juan’s feet.
Javier searched for his rifle, picked it up, removed the safety, and shot the chest of one of the infected. This caused it to fall back slightly, but returned for more. Now, in addition to the stench of the zombies and the saltwater was the scent of gunpowder.
Susana uttered a cry from the ground. One of the zombies had caught her by the ankle and pulled her to the ground. She broke two of her front teeth.
‘Just remember, you will always be lacking one thing,’ Sebastián said to Father Martín in the middle of all of the commotion.
Father Martín knew well what it was.
Diego reached the lever that Sebastián had pointed to and pulled it. A roar between two walls was slipping for a moment, joined by screaming. The other Stone door was opened before Diego’s eyes. It showed a dark tunnel, long and wet, that filtered into the roof. They must have been under the sea by this point. It had to be some water pipe. The absence of salt water was an indication of something, but what?
‘Flee now, while you can!’ Sebastián shouted.
‘What is this?’ Diego asked, pointing to the water that well to the ground in a splash amidst the groans and screams in the refuge.
Infected, Zombi The City of the Zol Page 30