Devouring The Dead (Book 1)

by Russ Watts

  “I swear, Jackson, you make one more move, I will put a fucking bullet in your brain.”

  Brad dropped Tom who rolled over onto his stomach. He cradled his face in his hands, blood pouring from his broken nose.

  “Anyone else here, or is this it? Benzo? That old hag? That fucking moron bus driver? Anyone?”

  “No,” said Christina solemnly. “No one else made it. We’re all that’s left. Brad, we thought you were dead, I don’t understand.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not dead yet. No thanks to you. Sincerely, I would like to thank every last one of you motherfuckers for leaving me for dead. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have this gun and I wouldn’t be in charge. So thank you.”

  “Brad? Is that you?” Tom grunted and got to his knees. He had managed to stem the bleeding from his nose, but he looked a mess. His shirt was covered in blood.

  “Tom, buddy, you are a little slow on the uptake today. Yes, it’s me, your old friend, Brad. The one who saved your pathetic life, remember? And how did you repay me? You picked a fight with me back at the conference centre and then you leave me to die in that God damn bus. Wow, good thing you’re not my enemy, eh, Tom?”

  Brad kicked Tom in the groin and Tom shouted out in pain. He curled up on the floor as Brad kicked him again and again in the stomach, the ribs, anywhere he could.

  “Brad, please, stop it!” Jessica pleaded with him to stop, but Brad ignored her. He ignored their cries, relishing in Tom’s pain. Finally, he stopped. He hauled Tom up onto his knees and Tom stayed there dazed, his face bruised, his mouth bleeding and his eyes swelling.

  “Now, if you’ll just stay on your knees like that, that would help me out a lot.”

  Brad walked around so Tom was facing away from him and he put the gun against Tom’s head. He cocked the trigger and braced his feet on the floor, ready to execute Tom.

  Jackson stood up again. “If you pull that trigger, Brad, you’re a dead man.”

  “Really? Who’s going to stop me from doing whatever the hell I want now? You, old man?”

  “And me,” said Christina standing.

  “Me too, Brad. You’re pathetic.” Caterina took Christina’s hand and stood. Finally, Jessica stood too and took Rosa’s hand. Together they stood beside Jackson.

  “Us too,” said Jessica. “How many bullets you got in that gun, Brad? Enough for everyone?”

  Brad hesitated and looked at Jessica. She stared back at him. He was used to women being submissive to him, but Jessica was different, stronger; Christina too. He could see they weren’t afraid of him. How strange, he thought; unarmed, women were always intimidated by him, yet, here he was waving a gun around and suddenly they weren’t afraid of him anymore.

  He un-cocked the gun, flipped it around, and smashed the butt against the back of Tom’s head, knocking him out cold. Tom fell to the floor unconscious.

  “Ah, I was just kidding,” said Brad. “I wouldn’t waste a bullet on Tom. Now sit down, my dears, because I do have six locked and loaded and I will use them if I have to.”

  Reluctantly, they sat down. Brad waited for them to be seated and told them to put their hands back on their heads.

  “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me. We tried to help you.” said Rosa.

  “Help me? That faggot driving the bus was a maniac. It’s his damn fault we crashed. Yeah, you were a great help.”

  “Save your breath, dear, he’s not on the same page as us. Hell, he’s not even reading the same book,” said Christina.

  Brad picked up a bible as he paced the floor. “If this is what you’re reading, then damn straight we’re not on the same page.”

  He took the bible to one of the candles and held it over the flame before the pages began to singe. As the fire swept through the book, he dropped it and let it burn.

  “You’re right though, I don’t know you. What was your name again?”

  “Rosa.” As she spoke she slipped her hand into Jessica’s. Their fingers entwined and Rosa felt reassured by the strong grip on her hand.

  “Rosa. Nice name. You remind me of someone I used to know with that blonde hair of yours. She was a sweet girl too. Amber.”

  Jessica squeezed Rosa’s hand tighter.

  “Brad you can’t do this,” said Jackson.

  “Oh, pipe down, I ain’t doing anything. She’ll keep for later, pops.” Brad blew a kiss at Rosa who turned her face away from him. Jessica stared at Brad, wishing he were dead.

  “No, this is the part where I tell you how it is. Think of me as a villain in a James Bond movie. I am your Scaramanga - although sadly, my gun isn’t golden. So anyway, this is where I tell you my evil plan and you listen. Unlike those stupid movies though, the baddie does not die at the end after revealing his plans to the hero.”

  Brad looked at Tom, still unconscious on the floor and cackled. Jackson cast a furtive glance at Christina. They both knew that Benzo was still up in the steeple and instinctively they knew what the other was thinking. If they kept Brad talking long enough, maybe Benzo would realise something was wrong. It was their only opportunity; they had to buy Benzo some time.

  “How did you get out, Brad?” asked Christina.

  “Weren’t you buried beneath the bus, beneath the rubble?” asked Jackson.

  “How’d you get that gun?” asked Christina.

  Brad continued pacing up and down in front of the altar, rubbing his temples, restless.

  “One thing at a time. Jesus Christ. You fuckers can be really irritating you know that?”

  They waited, sensing Brad wanted to speak, to tell his story.

  “When I came to, I thought I was dead. I mean I actually thought I was dead, literally. It was pitch black, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t hear anything. It was like being back in the womb, man. After a few minutes, I guess my senses got attuned and I figured it out.

  “When we’d crashed, I was thrown back into the doors. I remember hitting them hard and falling into the footwell. I can remember seeing Don flying through the windscreen and I thought my number was up. The doors must’ve buckled, as when I woke up, I was under the bus. I was wedged under the doors, a pile of bricks by my head and a ten tonne fucking bus above me.”

  Brad continued pacing back and forth, from one side of the church to the other, all the time waving the gun around.

  “There must’ve been an inch between me and that thing above me, so I had to crawl out. It took me a while, but finally I threw some stones and bricks aside and I was free. None of you fuckers were around, but I didn’t expect you to be quite frankly. I had barely hauled my ass outta there when something grabbed me. It was some diseased old woman; fleshy hands all over me, trying to frigging eat me. Her face was just, like, covered in blisters and shit. It looked like someone had thrown acid over her.

  “I pushed her off, grabbed a brick, and pounded her fucking skull in until she stopped moving. Next second though, they were all around me. I couldn’t see clearly, but there were shapes moving in the dark; vague things, dead things, just shifting and moaning and coming toward me. One of them reached for me as I tried to run, and it turned out to be a soldier.

  “He was stronger than the woman, but not strong enough. I pulled this gun out of his belt and battered his face to a mushy pulp. I just ran blind and found the door back there. Fate must’ve been on my side. I didn’t know you lot would be here, that was just a bonus. I’d only been in there a few minutes when I saw Jackson walk in on me. I was as shocked as you were.”

  “So did those things follow you here?” said Jackson. If they had, then they were in a fix; both exits would be swarming with zombies.

  “How the fuck should I know, buddy? I didn’t stop to ask directions. Yeah, probably they did. Whatever, that’s irrelevant right now.”

  “Brad, that’s our way out of here,” said Jackson. “We can’t get out past the main doors, the kitchen is our exit.”

  “What’s all this talk of ‘our’?” said Brad. “Stop in
terrupting me, Jackson, I hadn’t finished.”

  “So what’s your plan, Brad?” said Christina. “I can understand that you’re pissed, but if you think logically, we can help each other out here. This situation doesn’t have to get any worse than it already is. We didn’t leave you behind intentionally - we thought you had died with Don and Angel in the bus.

  “Look, we’re going to stay here tonight. Rest up, get going tomorrow. We’re going to the airport and...”

  “Christina, you might have been the boss back in the city, doing whatever it is rich snobs do, making your millions, but you’re not boss anymore. See this? This is a gun, and that puts me in charge. So stop fucking talking!”

  Brad strode over to her and put the gun to her head. She looked at him as he pointed the barrel at her forehead.

  “Cat, take your socks off,” he said, fuming, not taking his eyes off Christina’s.

  Confused, Caterina slipped off her shoes and rolled down her white socks. Shivers spread all over her body as her bare feet touched the stone cold floor.

  “Shove them in her mouth. If she speaks one more word, you’re going to be scooping up bits of her brain for weeks.”

  Caterina gritted her teeth and balled up her socks.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Christina. She slowly pushed the soiled socks into Christina’s mouth. Brad sneered as Christina gagged.

  “Guess they’re not the freshest, eh, buddy? Sit down, Cat, and stop...” He was about to tell her to stop crying when he noticed she wasn’t. She was looking at him defiantly. She had obviously been learning a thing or two from her mentor.

  Brad returned to Tom and sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “Right, this is what’s going to happen. First of all, sleeping here tonight? No. Your pyjama party is finished. In about ten minutes, we are going back out that door. You’re right, Jackson, they did follow me here, so I’m guessing there must be at least a dozen of those things by the back door already. If we wait until tomorrow, or any longer, there’ll be a hundred of them, maybe more. It’ll be worse than the city, as we’ve no way out. I’d say there’s no secret tunnel out of here.”

  “So how then?” said Jackson. He was hoping that Benzo would come down soon. They didn’t have long left.

  “It’s pretty simple really. It’s a trick I learnt from my father. He served in Iraq, the first time around. You see, Saddam used to create these human shields by surrounding himself with people; women and children in particular. That way, you’re hidden and protected from the enemy. My father taught me a lot.”

  “So we’re going to be a human shield for you? Are you crazy?” said Jessica. “No way, that’s ridiculous. Where are we even going? What do you plan on doing when you get out of this church?”

  “Well, for starters, no, I’m not crazy. I think it’ll work pretty well actually. For me at least. Any of those zombies come for us, they’ll take you lot first. Don’t worry, you can have weapons to defend yourself. I don’t want you dropping dead before I even get out of the church yard. Secondly, I want to go home. That’s the grand old U S of A for any of you imbeciles who weren’t sure. So I guess the airport, it is.”

  “And if I refuse to help you?” said Jessica.

  “Then I may as well put a bullet in your head right now, darling. If you come with me, then you’ve got a fighting chance. It’s a slim one, admittedly, but it’s all you’ve got right now.”

  Brad smiled as he lowered the gun at Jessica.

  “All right, fine. Like you said, what choice do we have?” Jessica realised she had been gripping Rosa’s hand tightly all the time Brad had been talking and let go.

  “Right,” said Brad getting up. “I think about ten minutes is enough. Go find something to defend yourself with. Oh, everyone except for you, Christina. You’re going to keep me company. When you’re all ready, meet me back here. I’ll be watching you. It goes without saying, don’t try anything stupid or Christina and Tom here will be sucking bullets.”

  Jessica, Rosa, and Jackson, took Caterina and they gathered together what they could lay their hands on. As they walked out of earshot of Brad, Jackson told them that they had to try and delay him.

  “Benzo will surely come down soon. When he does, be ready. It’ll take Brad off guard and we may only get one chance at this.”

  “And if it doesn’t work? What will we do out there in the dark? How will we know where to go?” said Rosa taking Jessica’s hand again.

  “Once we’re outside, we abandon him,” said Caterina. “He might try and shoot us, but if we all run at once in different directions, he won’t know what to do. There’ll be so many of those zombie things, he won’t have time trying to get us, he’ll be too busy fighting them off. Plus, it’s dark, so he won’t be able to see clearly. The second we’re outside, we split.”

  “But where to?” said Jackson. “I wouldn’t know one street from another round here.”

  Caterina pulled her mobile phone out.

  “Follow me, I know where to head. I know what Christina was talking about. I can get us to Limehouse station and from there down to the marina. As long as there’s a boat, or something we can get down the river on, we’re home free.

  “My phone has got a torch on it. I’ll turn it on as soon as we’re outside and you just follow the light.”

  “Won’t the zombies follow it, too?” said Jackson.

  “I think they’ll be too busy trying to eat Brad, don’t you? I don’t think they have the intelligence to figure out what we’re doing. If they follow the light, well...I guess we just have to take that chance.”

  “When you can, Cat, tell Christina, Tom too if you get a chance,” said Jackson. “The second we’re outside, we split up and run. Anywhere you can. Run for it and follow Cat’s light. It’s the best idea we have at this stage.”

  “Fuck, we’d better get ready for this,” said Jessica.

  They broke off into pairs, Caterina and Jackson taking the west wing, whilst Rosa and Jessica took the east.

  “I’m sorry about before,” said Rosa as they searched through a bookshelf.

  “What about?” said Jessica.

  Rosa pulled Jessica quickly into the shadows and kissed her. Jessica briefly kissed her back before withdrawing. Rosa’s hands reluctantly left Jessica’s waist.

  “You’re messed up, you know that?” said Jessica pushing her away.

  “What’s the problem?” hissed Rosa. “I thought that’s what you wanted?”

  “Yeah, no, I don’t know. Not now, anyway. You were right before when you said it’s not right. We’ve a madman waving a gun around and you want to make out? Just keep looking for something we can use, Rosa.”

  Rosa sulked back to the corner to look for a weapon or a picture, anything to distract her from her thoughts. The way Jessica looked at her, she had thought there was something there, some connection between the two of them. She had been wrong before though, and wondered if she had got it wrong again. It was probably just the stress of the situation.

  Jessica shook her head and pulled a large figure of Jesus from the wall. He was cast in solid iron, arms and legs spread eagled as if on the cross. It felt heavy, meaty, and she weighed it up in her hands. It would suffice. She thought about Tom up there at the nave, at Brad’s feet. He had taken a beating and Christina had a gun to her head. Yet, all she could think about was how Rosa tasted. Was she as selfish as people thought? Maybe.

  “Five minutes,” shouted Brad. He saw the others skulking in the shadows and knew they were plotting against him. He also knew they wouldn’t do jack shit, not whilst he had a gun over their friends.

  “Take that shit out of your mouth,” he said to Christina. She pulled the balled up socks out and threw them on the floor. She choked and spat a glob of disgusting saliva onto the floor.

  “You know we should put that mouth of yours to good use,” said Brad. He sat on the floor opposite her. He had made her sit beside him and the unconscious Tom.

  Christi
na closed her eyes and her body went stiff as Brad trailed the gun up her body. The gun pressed against her stomach before Brad drew it up between her breasts, its cold nuzzle sending shivers over her as he brought it up around her neck and left it hovering over her lips.

  “Open your mouth,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. Her eyes were still closed and the taste of metal on her lips made her want to vomit.

  “You’re not going to do this for me?” said Brad, pushing the gun against her closed mouth.

  “No.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. Finally, he could see what he wanted; the fear in her eyes, etched across her face as clearly as the striations a plane leaves across a crisp blue sky. He took the gun away and unzipped his trousers.

  “Then you had better do this instead,” he said motioning with his gun from her to his crotch.

  “Please, Brad, I don’t...”

  He cocked the trigger and motioned to her once again. She could see he had an erection and she felt sick.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little stressed right now. It’s been quite a day, what with nearly being killed and all. So let me put it another way. If you don’t, I’ll just blow you away and say you were trying to escape. So quit complaining and just do it. Don’t act precious. Like you haven’t sucked a cock before. If I feel teeth, I’ll blow your brains out, simple as that. Then Tom’s. So what’s it to be, Christina? You gonna blow me, or am I gonna blow you?”

  Christina crossed herself and crawled forwards to him. She put her hands either side of Brad’s waist on the cold stone floor. She could feel the gun again, this time pressed against her temple. Fighting back the urge to cry, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, she lowered herself down and with one hand took his erect penis out. She closed her eyes once more and he pushed her head down. She nearly gagged as he thrust himself inside her mouth.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” said Brad quietly as he held the gun to Christina’s temple. He looked up at the wooden carving that towered over him, the Son of God watching as Christina was forced to perform fellatio on Brad.