Devouring The Dead (Book 1)

by Russ Watts

  It took them another hour before they reached the turning point. Caterina pointed it out to them.

  “We would have missed it,” said Christina wiping the sweat from her brow.

  Tom took his aching arms from the river. His hands were so cold that his fingers had gone numb. He tried pushing the boat along through the water along with Christina, but it had been difficult and she frequently had to pause so they didn’t just turn in circles.

  “Through there, that inlet leads to the airport, I’m sure of it,” said Caterina. “See that long stretch of flat land over there, that’s the runway.”

  “One last push,” said Christina to Tom.

  He just nodded and put his arms back into the water. They swept the lifeboat swiftly to the shore and they landed on a muddy bank. The lifeboat lodged itself in the silt and Christina jumped out.

  “Be careful,” said Tom.

  “You lot stay here. Keep quiet or whistle out if you see anything. I’m just going up the bank to see what’s what. Won’t be long.”

  Christina disappeared into the night, slopping her way through the mud and water, up through reeds and grasses, until she was over the crest and out of sight.

  “Man, I’m beat,” said Tom.

  “Me too,” said Jackson.

  They heard a rustling from above and Jessica tensed. She felt around in the boat and found a candle stick. She grabbed it as they all looked up at the reeds. Something was coming. Tom grabbed their solitary bin lid and held it out in front of him like a gladiator.

  The rustling stopped and suddenly Christina sprang out of the grasses.

  “Shit,” said Tom, dropping the shield back into the boat.

  “The airport looks quiet. There are no lights on that I can see. It looks like we’re on the wrong side of the runway though. There’s an electrified fence running around it. It runs down the road at the top of the bank here. To get into the airport, we’re going to have to go around it, and that means back in the boat.”

  “Oh, God, I can’t face it, I’m exhausted,” said Jackson.

  “Well, I reckon there can only be a couple of hours until dawn. There’s a shed up by the road there, it looked like it was just used for storage. I couldn’t see anyone around. Why don’t we crash there until the sun comes up? I’m beat too,” said Christina.

  “Benzo, can you walk?” said Jackson.

  Benzo propped himself up and slowly stood. “I’m not done for yet, Jackson.”

  “Will we all fit in there?” said Caterina.

  “Do you want to stay out here?” Christina raised her eyebrows. “Yes, Cat, we’ll be fine, let’s go. That all right with you girls?”

  Rosa just murmured in agreement.

  “Lead on,” said Jessica getting up. “I don’t care if I have to use a can of lead-based paint for a pillow, I’m dead on my feet.”

  She looked at Benzo standing unsteadily and instantly regretted her choice of words. If anyone had noticed her faux pas, they chose to ignore it. Nobody spoke. They filed out of the boat, leaving it lodged on the mud bank, and dragged their tired bodies up the hill, through the path that Christina had already walked for them.

  The top of the bank led to a small road beside the runway, as Christina had said. Tom saw the airport in the distance. He could make out a few planes on the ground and outside of the terminal building, but Christina was right, there were no lights on. Twenty feet away stood the shed. They walked to it and Jackson tried the door.

  “It’s locked,” said Jackson heaving on the door. There was a tiny window above the handle, but Jackson couldn’t see any other way in.

  “Watch out, Jackson,” said Jessica.

  He stood aside and she smashed the window with the cross she held. As the ground was sprinkled with broken glass, she put her arm through the opening to unlatch the door. She fumbled for the lock until she found it and finally was able to open the door.

  As it swung in, the smell hit her. The shed was used purely for storing paint and chemicals. She wafted the air in front of her face and stepped inside. Feeling around on the wall she found a switch and bathed the shed in light.

  “Come on, it’s clear,” she said as she ventured inside, looking around the small brick building.

  Caterina rubbed her tired grainy eyes and picked up a dirty mop. “Not exactly the Ritz.”

  “It’ll do for tonight,” said Tom. He began dragging pots of paint to the side. They cleared the floor quickly and one by one, lay down on the hard floor. Jessica found a blanket on a shelf and handed it to Benzo.

  “Here, you take it.”

  “Thanks. Jess, look, would you mind sleeping next to me for a while?”

  She looked at him puzzled.

  “You’re the only one with a weapon and quite frankly, I don’t know if I go to sleep if I’ll wake up again. If I do, I might not be myself, you know, so...”

  “Sure, I’ll stick close,” she said as he lay down. “But you’re a fighter, Benzo. You hang in there, okay?”

  He smiled weakly and pulled the blanket over him.

  “We’d better turn this light out, we don’t want to let anyone know we’re here,” said Tom. “Not yet anyway.”

  Everyone had found a small spot on the floor on which to rest. The room smelt of sickly paint and body odour. Jackson gave Tom the nod and he flicked the light off. Rosa was already asleep and Benzo looked like he was seconds away from nodding off too.

  “I’m going to sleep in front of the door,” said Tom. “If anything drops by and tries to get in, it’ll buy us time.”

  “Hope you don’t sleep walk, Tom,” said Christina.

  Tom checked the door was shut and lay down in front of it. His feet touched some shelving and his head was squashed up against the door, but he didn’t care. He had been going on pure adrenalin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten or drunk anything. When the sun came up, they had to get to the airport. There could be food, water, and shelter. Anything more than that, he would consider a bonus.

  Gradually they fell into a deep slumber. In five minutes, they were all fast asleep. The river was quiet and the runway was deserted. The airport terminal appeared to be devoid of life.

  * * * *

  The man watched as the light in the storage shed flicked off. Someone was out there. He would have to check it out in the morning. He didn’t do running around in the dark, that was a sure fire way to end up dead. Zombies didn’t use light switches, which meant someone was definitely out there. He pulled the shutter down and reclined back in the business class seat. The aeroplane made for a useful temporary base. Passers-by, alive or dead, assumed it was empty and ignored him. He was off the ground, up where the dead couldn’t reach him. It was peaceful too. Since he had been abandoned, it hadn’t taken him long to realise this was as good a place as anywhere to stay. Why fight your way into the city when there was nowhere to go?

  He had dealt with intruders before and he could do it again. As he lay back to sleep, he felt for his semi-automatic. As always, he slept with it by his side. Not that anything could get to him up here, but it still made sense. Always sleep with your best friend at your side.

  Private Dean Ferrera knew he shared the airport with one other, but they kept apart. The other man stayed in a lounge inside the terminal. He could get out to the runways, but the terminal building itself was off limits. Going in there was suicidal; around a hundred zombies were stuck in there and he didn’t have enough bullets to clear it, so there they stayed. Ferrera knew he had enough food to at least last a couple more weeks. With only one mouth to feed, he could scavenge from the other planes. The other man was armed and he could survive on whatever rations had been left behind in the lounge. If he ran out, tough. This is the way the world is now. Kill or get killed; eat or get eaten.

  There wasn’t enough to share with anyone else. He would have to check out the intruders tomorrow. If they came into the airport, he would make sure they didn’t interfere with his private new home; a
round of shells would soon see to that.

  Ferrera slept soundly, looking forward to the next day. It had been a few days since he had been able to shoot someone. It looked like he would be getting some target practise after all. Got to stay sharp, he thought, as he drifted back to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Two military jets scorched past overhead and woke Tom with a startle. They flew low over the building and the walls rattled. Pots of paints jittered and jostled across the hard concrete of the storeroom. Tom jumped up, opened the door, and raced outside as the others woke.

  “What is it?” said Christina joining him.

  The jets had left vapour trails in the early morning sky and the planes were now just distant specks on the horizon.

  “Military, travelling south I think. The speed they were going, they didn’t come from this airport, but it’s a good sign, right? It means someone is taking action. It means someone is organising things. It means we still have a chance.”

  Jackson appeared beside Tom and yawned. “Was that what I thought it was?”

  “Yep,” said Tom. Whilst his body ached, he felt invigorated by the sight of the jets. “Military. Two of them.”

  The sky was a light blue and Jackson yawned again. It had been several days now since he had gotten a good sleep. He looked over to the airport. “I don’t see any military camp.”

  “Maybe they’re not based here?” said Christina.

  “They would’ve left help though,” said Tom. “Directions at least. Come on, let’s rouse everyone and get going.”

  He went back excitedly into the shed as Jackson walked over to Christina.

  “What do you think?” she said.

  “Well, I’m not sure. The jets are a damn good sign, that’s for sure. It could just be that Tom’s right. We’ve made it this far. We have to check it out and hope for the best.”

  Rosa and Jessica stumbled out, blinking as the sun beamed down upon their faces. Jackson saw they looked tired, still. Jessica especially looked as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. From the low angle of the sun, he guessed they had slept for three hours, no more than that. Tom came out with Benzo.

  “Christ Almighty,” said Jackson rushing to help him. The skin on Benzo’s face was stretched taught and his capillaries had broken. His face was etched with pain and sickly brown algae grew from the wound where Reggie had bitten him. It trailed down his cheek to his neck where it almost reached a line of blisters that arced their way around his jawbone.

  “You should leave me here,” said Benzo quietly. “Just leave me be. I just want to sleep.”

  “No,” said Jackson firmly, helping Tom take Benzo’s weight. “You’re coming with us.”

  They all wandered over the crest of the hill and looked down the river bank. Tom and Jackson held Benzo up between them.

  “Christina, um, where’s the boat?” said Jessica. “This is the right place, isn’t it? I’m sure we left it about here.”

  “Oh shit.” Christina scanned up and down the bank, but it was nowhere to be seen.

  “It must’ve drifted off. I guess the tide came up. We had nothing to anchor it with. It’s gone.”

  “Oh give me a break,” said Tom wearily.

  “Fine, then we’ll walk,” said Rosa twitching her nose. “There might be a gap in the fence somewhere.”

  “We can’t, Rosa, it’s too far.” Jackson and Tom lowered Benzo to the ground. He lay on the grass and closed his eyes. “Benzo can’t walk all that way,” said Jackson.

  “Well I hate to say it, but...”

  “Then don’t say it, Rosa,” said Jessica. “Just don’t.” She glared at Rosa who stormed off back to the shed.

  “Just leave me,” slurred Benzo quietly. “I don’t mind, truly. It’s okay.”

  Jackson lifted him up. He put his arms underneath Benzo and dragged him to his feet. “Tom help me, we’ll carry him.”

  “All the way to the airport?”

  “Tom Goode, so help me God, you help me pick him up or...”

  He was interrupted by an odd trundling sound. Rosa was pushing a cleaning cart along the road to them from the shed. She had thrown the chemicals and bottles onto the ground and she pushed it over the grass to Jackson.

  “Thank you, Rosa,” Jackson said as he and Tom helped Benzo onto it. Benzo sat on the cart, his legs dangling off the front. He held onto the sides.

  “Jessica, come here,” said Benzo. He struggled to sit upright and he swayed as he spoke. Jessica came to him and took his hand.

  “Remember what I said,” he whispered to her. “If I fall asleep again...”

  Benzo grabbed her other hand that was holding the cross and she understood. She knew what he was asking. He let her go and Jackson began pushing the cart back to the road.

  “Let’s go then. It’s probably about a half mile or so I would reckon to the airport. Keep your eyes open for any gaps in the fence, anything at all. Watch out for trouble too and if you see anything, shout,” said Tom.

  As they left, Jessica looked up Rosa. “I’m sorry, I...”

  “You never gave me a chance. You thought I was going to suggest we just leave him here to die alone, didn’t you? Die alone out here? Thanks for the faith, Jess. Whatever.”

  Rosa turned away and walked beside Jackson. Christina and Caterina walked behind them, while Tom led the way on his own, alert for any path or gate through the fence to the runway.

  Jessica rubbed the cross in her hands. The silver glistened in the morning sunshine. She was so quick tongued she knew she often spoke before she thought. She felt like hurling the cross into the river and held it aloft. The breeze brought the salty smell of the river to her and she brought her arm back down. This was not the time to give up.

  Jessica trudged after the others feeling ashamed. She liked to think she was tough, streetwise, but that was only part of her makeup. She had dropped the paddle back there last night and compromised all their safety. She had berated Rosa in front of everyone. When the time came, she would use the cross; use it to kill anything that endangered them again. All she could hope to offer was some protection. Benzo had saved her in the Fiscal Industries building and taken her back to his friends. They had accepted her and protected her, and like it or not, she was part of this group now. She didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. Benzo was dying and she owed him her life. If necessary, she would do what she had to do when the time came; for the benefit of everyone.

  As they walked, Tom noticed the warning signs on the fence. Every hundred yards there was a notice, pinned to a pillar, advising them that the fence was electrified and monitored twenty four hours a day. A red jagged lightning bolt accompanied the warning sign. They kept walking. There were no zombies around that they could see. Water flanked either side of the runway and the airport began to take shape as they got closer.

  There were still planes surrounding the terminal and vehicles of varying size: loaders, vans, and cars. As they got closer, Tom saw military vehicles. He counted three jeeps and a truck. There was even a small helicopter perched at the edge of the runway. He couldn’t see any soldiers or barriers though. There seemed to be no activity of any sort.

  “If we go much further, we’re going to end up heading away from the airport,” he said stopping.

  The road began to curve away from the runway, toward a parking barrier. From there, Tom could see a car park and then just more buildings.

  “So what do you reckon?” said Christina.

  Tom was looking at the fence with interest. “I think we have to climb over the fence.”

  “Climb over an electric fence? What?” she answered.

  Tom strode over to the fence and grabbed it. Jessica and Rosa screamed. Tom let go of the fence and stepped back. He pointed back at the fence, a few feet behind them. A seagull was perched on top of it, watching nothing in particular.

  “Shit, Tom, you could have said,” said Jessica.

  “You know Tom, everythi
ng has to be dramatic,” chuckled Benzo.

  “I only just noticed it,” said Tom. “The power must be out. Looks like we finally caught a break.”

  He put his fingers through the wires and climbed up. The fence was shaky, but not too difficult. When he reached the top, he sat astride one of the posts, legs both side of the fence, and reached a hand down.

  “Next?”

  Christina climbed up and he helped her over. When she had dropped down the other side, onto the grass verge beside the runway, Caterina began climbing too. Rosa and Jessica followed. When they were all safely over, Jackson wheeled Benzo right up to the fence.

  “You hold onto me, mate, Tom will help you over.”

  Benzo tried to smile, but his face was covered in blotches and mould, and his gums were bleeding so his smile seemed more like an evil grimace. Jackson lifted Benzo onto his back and climbed up the fence. When he was halfway up, Tom leant down and pulled Benzo up. He hoisted him over the fence and on the other side Christina took hold of Benzo’s legs.

  “Got him,” she said. Tom let go and Benzo sank into Christina’s arms. She knelt on the ground cradling him as Tom and Jackson came over.

  “It’s not far now, Benzo,” she said.

  He coughed and bloody saliva trickled out of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered, but he stayed conscious. “Thanks, mum,” he said.

  Jackson picked him up and threw Benzo onto his back again. Benzo draped his arms over Jackson’s shoulders and they continued on. They were inside the airport perimeter now. If they could just find a way into the terminal, they might find help. Jackson ignored the pain in his back. The weight of Benzo’s body slumped over him made Jackson feel like he was walking through quicksand. Every step sent jarring pain searing into his brain.