Killing the Dead (Book 13): War of the Dead

by Murray, Richard

  “That is not new to those of us here. We were all the same, are all the same. We lost those we loved…”

  I didn’t miss the catch in his throat as he said that and my heart ached for him.

  “We all found ourselves in a place of safety, able to sleep on a night without fear that the scourge would find us, to take that last remaining thing we had, our own life. But we also found that the place of safety gave us time to think, to remember what… who, we had lost and we suddenly had the time to feel that pain.”

  Heads moved, bobbing up and down in agreement as the recruits listened and agreed with what he was saying.

  “Each of us here,” he said, sweeping his arm out to indicate the gathered acolytes. “Came to the same realisation. We had lost everything and we had no reason to continue on. That place of safety was a trap for us, a prison from which we needed release.”

  “Some people find that release. They take their own life.” He paused, brows drawing down as he scowled. “Those people are cowards!”

  There was confusion on the new recruits faces and they shared glances, no doubt wondering at his words.

  “They take their own lives and what rises in their place brings death to others. Their act of cowardice allows more of the Scourge to rise and bring death to the Living.”

  I gave him a sideways glance, hearing the hate and the anger in his voice. He truly believed what he was saying and that was scary in a way.

  “But those of us here, people like you, we found another way. We found our purpose and it is glorious!”

  He paused, words hanging in the air and waited until one of the recruits spoke.

  “W-what is the purpose?”

  “To protect the Living!” A black-clad acolyte called from the back of the room.

  “To spend our lives fighting the Scourge!” called another.

  “To die so they may live!”

  “To bring hope to those without it,” Samuel added and silence fell.

  He took a step forward, just a single step but as all eyes fixed on him, it felt like something more.

  “This world is for the living,” he said, voice dropping low. “We are born, we grow, we live and then we die. That is how it should be, how it has always been, until last year. It changed.”

  “The ones who died began to rise again, their hunger insatiable as they sought our flesh, our lives, jealous of what we had. They grew in number, their one purpose to scour the earth of all life.”

  He paused, and a shiver ran through me as I heard the fervour in his voice, that absolute fanaticism of a true zealot. He believed everything he was saying and that still scared me.

  “Our world was dying,” he continued, voice so low even I had to lean forward to better hear him. “We were lost and barely surviving, our hope all but gone. Then he came to us.”

  Ryan, I thought. He was going to talk about Ryan and I was going to hear for the first time, exactly what they believed about him.

  “God, the universe, some force that we cannot understand, decided that a balance needed to be restored. The Scourge were an abomination, they had broken the cycle, they had found a way to cheat death.”

  My heart was in my throat as he looked at each of the recruits in turn. I could feel it in the air, the atmosphere thrummed with the belief of those people gathered there. I didn’t need to look at them, I could feel it.

  “So, the universe responded. It sent Death to the earth in the form of a man. I witnessed his arrival myself. He had died, but when he returned he was not of the Scourge, he was still a man. He raised his knife and he strode out amongst the Scourge and where he walked the balance was restored!”

  His voice rose as he said that, the final word shouted out to the room and the acolytes responded in kind. A hundred hands thumped against their breasts as a wordless exultation filled the air.

  The problem was that Ryan hadn’t been dead, just close to it and when Samuel had found him, and thought him to be dead, was surprised when Ryan opened his eyes and wasn’t undead. A simple misunderstanding had allowed him to form a cult of death around himself.

  “More than that!” Samuel continued. “He came amongst us and found those of us, like you, without hope or purpose and he spoke! His words touched our souls and filled our hearts with a righteous fury!”

  “Wha-what did he say?” one of the recruits asked.

  “He told us that we were chosen! That we had nothing left, that we were no longer living but were dead. More than that, he showed us that the Dead cannot feel pain, that we are his instruments.”

  “We are already dead.” There were actual tears in his eyes and another shiver ran down my spine. “But we can ensure that those who are still living can do so in peace and free of the fear of the Scourge.”

  Samuel stopped, clasping his hands together to stop their trembling and he lowered his head, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath of air before expelling it softly.

  “We will find our deaths when he permits it,” he said, voice calm and his face still. “We will walk at his side and bring the final death to the Scourge. That is our purpose, that is our reason to continue. We shall ensure no one else ever shares our loss.”

  His head snapped up, eyes opening wide and he once more had that crazed look of devotion that I had noticed the first time I had seen him.

  “If you join us, you will die. That is a promise. You will have the final death and you will not rise again but before you die, you will have stood between the Living and the Scourge and you will have given everything you have to protect them.”

  “That is what we offer. There will be no parades, no thanks or pats on the back. Just a knife in your hand and a chance to die for a purpose greater than any you have ever had before. Can you do that?”

  Their heads moved almost as one, bobbing up and down as they nodded their agreement that yes, they could do that.

  “You will be tested. It will be painful and hard work, but when you don the death-shroud you will walk out into the world as one of the Dead. You will give your life to save another without a thought and you will kill as many of the Scourge as you can before doing so. Is that clear?”

  Their cry of acquiescence was drowned out by the roar of the acolytes that surrounded us and as one mass, they moved inwards, hands reaching out to pat, to embrace, to connect just for a moment, to show them that they were no longer alone.

  “Welcome brothers and sisters,” Samuel said. “Your training will begin immediately.”

  And with that, each of the new recruits was taken in hand by a black-garbed acolyte and led from the room. The rest of them returned to what they had been doing before, pairing off and drawing their blades.

  “Come then,” Samuel said as he turned to me. “We have much to speak of.”

  I swallowed hard and just nodded before following him from the room. It had been eye-opening to witness that and if anything, it scared me more than ever this cult that Ryan had gathered around himself.

  No matter what they believed, he was just a man and one day soon, he would fail their expectations and I didn’t know what would happen then.

  With that thought gnawing away at me, I prepared myself for a long and uncomfortable conversation.

  Chapter 15

  I was sulking a little, I knew that and I didn’t care. The Reaper had escaped me and all I had to show for my fight with it was a few more scars and two dead minions. Not a great day, truth be told.

  “The trucks here,” one of the minions said.

  “Fine, start loading and transporting everything to the docks.”

  She saluted and spun on her heel before dashing off towards the approaching vehicle. I grimaced as another minion sewed shut the wound in my side and scanned the area.

  Word had spread and more of the black-clad followers had appeared as though from nowhere. They spread out, searching for the Reaper though an entire fist of them hung around me in what I could only assume was an inept attempt at surreptitiously offering
me protection.

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue so left them to it. So long as they informed me when they found the Reaper, then it would be fine. I wanted to kill it.

  While they searched, the men and women from the supply ship would begin loading the trucks with the warehouses full of goods. It would take the better part of a few days to get it all down to the docks and loaded onto the boats.

  There was enough to help feed the survivors on the island for a little while if it were rationed and more than enough for Lily to take before the idiotic, short-sighted government and make her case for more such incursions to the mainland.

  After that, we could get on with the primary mission of ensuring all other innocents were taken back to the safety of the island and I could see about killing every last zombie on the mainland.

  Might take a while, but I had little else to do to occupy my time.

  “Finished, My Lord Death.”

  I glanced down at the freshly applied bandage and nodded my thanks to the minion. He lifted my jacket and passed it over to me before I could even think to reach for it and I grunted another thanks.

  “Go join the others,” I said and scowled as he hesitated. “I shall be fine, do as you’re told.”

  He saluted and moved away, towards the black-clad minions who were standing guard around the warehouse itself.

  Half of my initial force had made their way to the warehouses and while one fist had remained to guard those loading the truck and one remained close to play guard to me, the others, including the three remaining of those who had been with me, went out searching.

  “Name,” I said as I glanced at the tall, slim figure of the one I believed to be the fist leader.

  “Jenny.”

  “Ah.” I really did need some way to mark them so I knew who they were in their masks. “If you insist on staying close, follow me.”

  “My Lord?”

  “I need to take a walk.”

  “As you command.”

  Roads led away from the warehouses and in the distance, I caught sight of houses, trees and yet more hills. Plenty of places for the undead to hide. Plenty of places for survivors too. Or perhaps, answers as to where the undead were.

  A lone Reaper would not have killed all of the undead in the town, not even in the past year. They didn’t need to eat as much as a live person would, just enough to keep them moving and I had seen ample proof of that time and again over the winter.

  That meant that the majority of the town's zombies were still missing. With around eight or nine thousand inhabitants, I would have expected to find more than one zombie. The abandoned cars, empty homes and signs of violence everywhere told me that a lot of people hadn’t made it out of the town in the first place.

  Where then, were they?

  I led the group of minions along a wide road, away from the warehouses. Trees lined its length and abandoned cars and other vehicles littered it. I pointed towards an ambulance, covered in dust and pulled halfway up the banking.

  Two of the minions ran off to check it out while the others drew their weapons and moved a little closer to me. As annoying as it was, arguing didn’t seem to change anything. Despite their willingness to leap to any command I gave, when it came to them leaving me alone, they had a tendency to ignore me.

  The two men returned, empty handed and I shrugged as I continued on. It was worth a look at least as medical supplies were something that was in definite short supply.

  We came upon a housing estate. Twenty or thirty homes that were dark and empty. Their gutters overflowed with leaves and their gardens were unkempt. Cars sat in some of the driveways, overburdened with personal belongings that the owners didn’t live to take away.

  My minions spread out, dashing forward to check the houses as I took a slower, more measured route. Jenny, their fist leader, stayed close to me, hand gripping tightly her weapon as she scanned the estate looking for danger.

  I did my best to ignore her and watched the minions scurry from house to house. There came a cry and as a door was pushed open, a shambler fell out. It was in a poor state, flesh withered and rotting, it’s lower jaw was missing and I suspected had simply fallen off.

  The minion looked my way and I shook my head, letting him know I had no real urge to waste my time with killing it. He sank his blade into its skull and disappeared into the house. I held back a sigh.

  As useful as they were, I sometimes missed the days of travelling with my small group of friends. The dangers had been greater and their desire to talk to me sometimes irksome, but I had enjoyed myself.

  With my followers, it was different. Sure, I had a grand purpose and Lily by my side, but still, I missed the simpler times. Just the few of us, our knives and our wits as we survived against almost impossible numbers of zombies.

  “My Lord…”

  “Call me, Ryan,” I said, cutting her off. “It’s quicker.”

  “As you command, R-Ryan.” She hesitated just a little, tasting my name on her tongue and I held back a smile. “Why are we here?”

  “In the philosophical sense? I have no idea.”

  I chuckled softly as I caught a look of confusion in her eyes and shrugged.

  “It was boring watching them load the trucks and I want to know where all the people, the zombies are.”

  “So you can bring them the final death?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Killing the wounded minion had sated me somewhat but it wasn’t the same. I received no real joy from killing the innocent anymore and it was the same with my minions, though I could almost convince myself that they were no innocents.

  I wondered, idly, if I could convince Lily to run away with me. Away from the minions and the nonsense Samuel fed them. Away from the needs of the survivors and the endless arguments. Just the two of us and perhaps the dog, out in the world.

  She wouldn’t do it though. Her sense of responsibility was too great and she would argue that I owed something to my followers since they had given themselves entirely over to me. It had been amusing at the beginning and useful but was becoming ever more of a cage around me.

  I didn’t like that.

  “Sir.”

  Jenny pointed to a house further along the street. A black-clad minion was stood outside the front door waving his arms for our attention.

  “Let’s check it out.”

  The detached house was a three-bedroom affair with a garage and large garden that was overgrown with weeds and long grass. I kept a careful watch on that long grass as I passed since anything could hide within it.

  Water pooled around the blocked drain and a foul stench emanated from them, as the leaves and debris slowly rotted. Still, foul odours were just something we had learnt to live with during the apocalypse.

  “In here, My Lord Death,” the black-clad minion said as he ducked through the open front door.

  I pulled free my blade, the hairs on the back of my neck rising and I glanced back over my shoulder at Jenny. Her eyes, behind the hood she wore, were impassive, giving nothing away and I smiled before stepping into the house.

  If they were going to try and kill me, they wouldn’t have an easy time of it, I was sure of that. While I might walk into their trap, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t be prepared for the worst.

  “Ah…” I said softly as I walked into the living room. “That was not what I was expecting.”

  “My Lord?”

  I waved him to silence and took a step forward, slowly sliding the knife back into its sheath. I crouched down low and looked into a pair of wide, blue eyes that didn’t blink and I tried my best to offer a non-threatening smile.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the child.

  “Leave us alone!”

  The large pistol in her hand wavered as she held it out, aimed straight at my forehead. Her other arm was wrapped around a smaller child with blonde curls and the end of a dirty blue blanket stuffed into her mouth.

  “We mean you no harm,”
I promised, holding out my hands to show I was speaking the truth. “Are you alone here?”

  “Go away!” was her only response.

  I had no idea of how old they were but guessed her to be younger than ten and the smaller child to be five or younger. They were both filthy and stank too, but the girl's jaw was set and her face filled with determination. I could admire that.

  “Okay,” I said as I shrugged and rose slowly to my feet. “Good luck.”

  “W-what?”

  I ignored the child's question as I turned and walked from the room, my minions falling into place behind me. I could practically feel their questioning gazes and grinned as they kept their questions to themselves. Sometimes being in charge benefited me after all.

  “keep searching the houses,” I said as we left the house.

  The one minion nodded and trotted off but Jenny chose to stay and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. I had no need of protection, especially not from a child. I lowered myself onto the stone step beside the stinking drain and rested my back against the door frame.

  I reached into a pocket and pulled out a battered package that contained yet more salted fish and lifted a piece to my mouth, taking a bite and chewing slowly, letting the too salty taste burn my tongue a little.

  Jenny leant against the wall, knife in hand and head-turning so that she could keep an eye on the house and on the street too.

  “Take off your shroud.”

  She didn’t question, just pulled it off her head and folded it carefully before tucking it behind her belt.

  Her blonde hair stuck to her face as she wiped beads of sweat from her brow. Her look was curious and I offered a smile in return as I heard movement behind me.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked the child.

  I looked back over my shoulder and held up the package of salted fish. The young girl stood beside the staircase, the gun pointed toward the floor and her little sister's hand clenched firmly in hers. She licked her lips as she looked at the food I held.

  “It’s very salty,” I said. “But good for you. Take some.”

  She took a hesitant step towards me then stopped and looked down at her hands. She clearly didn’t want to let go of either the gun or her sister, but she definitely wanted the food.