Zombies Attack!

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Zombies Attack! Page 10

by Mark Cheverton


  Sitting up, Watcher scanned their camp. The fire had burned itself out sometime during the night; they were completely cloaked in darkness. Blaster stood on the opposite side of the camp, but his legs seemed to be missing. Then he pulled his black, leather tunic over his head, and his chest disappeared, leaving his head floating in the air. Placing the dark, leather cap on his head, the rest of him vanished, leaving behind just his smiling face. The boy drew his knives, then disappeared into the woods.

  “Let’s get a move on,” Cutter said as he collected his gear. “We’re heading for the church where the villagers are being held.”

  “Er-Lan said the villagers might be at the church,” the monster groaned.

  “You better hope they’re there,” Cutter growled. He untied the ropes that held the monster to the tree, then wrapped them around the creature’s body, pinning his arms to his sides. “If that church is empty, then you and me are gonna have another discussion, and it won’t go as well as it did last night.”

  “Er-Lan does not lie,” the zombie said. He turned and stared at Planter. “Pretty girl will protect Er-Lan, yes? Keep the warrior from hurting Er-Lan?”

  “Don’t worry, Er-Lan,” Planter said. “Watcher and I will keep you safe.”

  “Ha!” Cutter said.

  Watcher scowled at the big warrior as he stood. He quickly grabbed his weapons, then donned his chain mail. He checked the campsite for anything left behind; they’d gotten it all.

  “Everyone ready?” Planter asked.

  Watcher nodded.

  “Where’s the little one?” Cutter asked.

  “You mean me?” Watcher asked.

  “No … not you. I mean the one with the two curved knives.”

  “I’m here.” Blaster stepped out of the darkness and removed his leather cap. “I was just looking around, making sure there were no unwanted visitors around. It looks like we’re alone.”

  “Great, let’s go,” Cutter said.

  They moved quietly through the forest, prisoner in tow. The eastern sky blushed deep shades of red as the sun peeked up over the horizon. The light pushed back the veil of night, causing the sparkling stars to disappear, giving way to the blue sky of morning. The occasional moo of a cow floated across the landscape, followed by the cluck of a chicken; the forest was beginning to greet the day.

  “Where do you think the zombie warlord is taking our friends in such a hurry?” Blaster asked. “These monsters move faster than any zombie I’ve ever seen.”

  “Who knows,” Watcher replied.

  “I bet he knows.” Cutter gestured over his shoulder at Er-Lan, then yanked on the rope, causing the little zombie to stumble to the ground.

  “Cutter, you made him fall,” Planter complained with an angry glare.

  “Who cares, it’s just a zombie.” The warrior laughed.

  “It’s still a living creature and should be treated with respect,” she said.

  “What kind of respect did the zombies show our neighbors when they attacked our village?” Blaster asked.

  “Er-Lan was not part of the attack.” The zombie cast his eyes to the ground.

  “Who cares what you say,” Blaster snapped. “My brother was killed in that battle. He sent me to the forest to stay safe as he tried to protect everyone else.” He paused for a moment as the painful memories replayed themselves through his mind. “He tried to fight off four zombies that were attacking my mother when he was …”

  The young villager stopped speaking as he was overcome with grief. He glared at the zombie with a lust for violence in his brown eyes.

  “Maybe the zombie knows where the warlord is taking our friends,” Cutter said. “I don’t believe this church is the final destination. There’s something else going on here and you’re gonna tell us, aren’t you?” There was a violent threat in the tone of his voice.

  Drawing his diamond blade, he hit the zombie in the back with the flat side of the weapon.

  “You know anything about the warlord’s plans?” the warrior asked.

  “Er-Lan knows nothing,” the zombie moaned.

  “That doesn’t seem very likely.” Blaster eyes were stained red from fighting back tears. “You’ve probably been with this warlord for a while. I bet you know all of his hideouts.” He slowly slid one of his curved razor-sharp knives from his inventory. The light from the morning sun reflected off the keen edge of the blade, making it seem to glow with deadly magic. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help you remember.”

  “We aren’t gonna hurt him!” Planter snapped, giving Blaster an angry glare. “I know you wouldn’t cut him with your knife in cold blood. You’re just trying to scare him.” She glanced at Watcher, then pointed to the rope. “Take the rope from Cutter. You and I will watch Er-Lan for a while.”

  Watcher moved nervously forward and reached out for the rope. Cutter stopped walking for a moment and just stared at Watcher. His steel-gray eyes glared down at the NPC as if he were daring him to take the rope from his grip. Suddenly, Planter moved between them and yanked the rope away, giving it to Watcher.

  “Keep moving,” the young girl commanded, then moved to the zombie, giving him a gentle push in the back.

  The zombie shuffled forward, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Cutter.

  Watcher followed Planter, keeping a firm grip on the zombie’s leash. After everyone was moving along, Planter stepped to the monster’s side.

  “You know, we’re just worried about our parents and friends, Er-Lan,” she said. “This war, or whatever it is … it doesn’t involve us.”

  The zombie grumbled something that none of them could really hear. Watcher moved forward to the monster’s other side.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Er-Lan is not a warrior.” This time, the zombie’s voice was loud enough to be heard, but it was filled with a deep sadness.

  “Me neither,” Watcher said. “I’m just here because of my father and sister. My sister is named Winger. She’s super annoying, always taking my stuff and getting me in trouble. I think, because she’s older, Winger likes to boss me around.” He paused for a moment as they emerged from the trees and turned to follow the grassy stone trail. “She and my dad Cleric were captured a while ago. I miss them a lot and hope they’re okay.”

  Watcher turned away as thoughts of his family suddenly overwhelmed him with emotions. A faint sound escaped his lips and his sadness grew, but he refused to cry, especially in front of Cutter. Clenching his fists, he dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands, the pain driving away the sorrow. A chuckle came from Cutter as Watcher wiped a lone tear from his cheek.

  He imagined himself spinning around and yelling at the warrior. Cutter was just like every other bully in the village—in all the villages, in fact—picking on him because he was small and weak and couldn’t hold a sword. He wanted to yell at him, but he was afraid. He felt rage and frustration from years of teasing and bullying and abuse, and wanted to just erupt and let it all out on the big warrior, but Watcher knew he wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t his way to just lash out at people, even though everyone did to him. Instead, Watcher liked to think everything through and approach a problem with a calm mind. Some interpreted that to be cowardice on his part, but Watcher knew that wasn’t true … at least he didn’t think it was.

  “My mom and dad were also attacked,” Planter said. “They were …”

  She paused for a moment, letting a memory of her parents play through her mind.

  “Er-Lan, do you have any family?” Watcher asked.

  The zombie looked at Watcher, surprised.

  “Of course Er-Lan has a family.”

  “Well, who are they?” Watcher asked.

  “My father is a ‘P.’ His name is Pe-Lan,” Er-Lan said.

  “What do you mean a ‘P’?” Blaster asked, moving closer, a look of curiosity in his brown eyes.

  “A zombie’s rank is shown by the first name,” Er-Lan explained. “The closer to ‘Z,’ the
higher the rank, but there has not been a ‘Z’ amongst the zombies for centuries. Er-Lan heard there was once an ‘X,’ but that was not in the Far Lands.”

  “So your father is a ‘P.’ Has he always been a ‘P’?” Planter asked.

  “Of course not,” Er-Lan replied. “When a zombie does some great deed, the clan leader will promote that zombie to a higher rank. My father is Pe-Lan, and my brother is Ko-Lan.”

  “Lan is your family name?” Mapper asked.

  Er-Lan nodded.

  “This is all really interesting,” Cutter said, sarcastically.

  “Ignore him.” Planter smiled at the zombie.

  “Your mother’s gone?” Watcher asked.

  Er-Lan nodded again, then lowered his gaze to the ground.

  “Mine too,” Watcher added.

  The zombie glanced up at the boy, and for a brief instant, there was a connection between the two of them, a feeling that only comes with shared grief.

  “Er-Lan thinks the destination of the warlord might be known,” the zombie said in a low voice.

  Watcher stopped breathing for just a second. Did I hear him correctly? he thought. “What?”

  “Er-Lan thinks the warlord is heading for the zombie fortress.” The monster’s voice grew even softer. “Tu-Kar will go to the old church first, gather all the prisoners, then head for the fortress. All prisoners from all over the Far Lands are being brought to the fortress; there will be many villagers there. That is what Er-Lan thinks.”

  Cutter moved closer to the zombie, but Planter held up a hand, stopping the warrior. Instead, the big NPC just followed along down the trail, scanning the trees for threats.

  “The old zombie fortress,” Blaster said. “You mean the one with the two towers on either side of the entrance?”

  Er-Lan nodded his scarred green head.

  “You know where this place is located?” Cutter asked.

  Blaster shrugged. “Maybe. But the problem is that it’s a huge place. The villagers could be kept anywhere.”

  “Er-Lan thinks the warlord will keep the prisoners in the courtyard that sits on one side of the fortress.” The zombie looked up at Watcher and the villager gave him a smile. “There is a secret entrance, a hidden entrance. If the villagers enter there, then they can get to the prisoners and escape, if they move quick and quiet.”

  “And what if we aren’t quick and quiet?” Blaster asked.

  “A large number of zombies are there, many with armor and iron weapons,” Er-Lan explained. “Perhaps sneaking into the courtyard at night will make it safer.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Planter patted the monster gently on the back.

  Er-Lan flinched at first, then relaxed when he realized it was not an attack.

  “But what if he’s lying?” Blaster said. “How do we know we can trust this creature?”

  “My little friend makes a good point,” Cutter replied.

  “You have a better idea?” Planter glanced at Cutter, then Blaster, waiting for a reply, then continued. “We can’t just charge in there and challenge all of the monsters to a fight.”

  “You’re right,” Cutter said. “It would be a disaster with all of you tagging along. Me and Blaster would have to do all the fighting.”

  Watcher felt the sting of his implied taunt; he wasn’t strong enough to help. With a sigh, he lowered his gaze to the ground, feeling frustrated and ashamed, as usual. He felt another tear trying to make its way out of his eye, but Watcher would not set it free. With all his strength, he choked back his emotions and refused to weep in front of the others.

  “Then it’s a plan,” Planter said. “We’ll check the church for any villagers and free them if we can. Then we’ll go to this zombie fortress and free the rest of the prisoners.” She turned to Cutter. “After they’re freed, Er-Lan will be released … agreed?”

  The big warrior glanced at Blaster, then back to Planter.

  “Of course … the monster will be set free when we save our people.” Cutter gave her a wry smile.

  For the first time, they had a plan, and it seemed to make the companions feel optimistic. But something about it all nagged at the back of Watcher’s mind. There was something amiss here, some flaw in the plan, but he couldn’t quite see it. And not knowing seemed to make that uncertainty slowly turn into an unknown and unseen danger, waiting to devour them all.

  The sky was alive with color, the reds, oranges and yellows of dawn creating a masterpiece of hues across the eastern horizon.

  “That’s incredible, don’t you think?” Watcher pointed at the rising sun.

  “It’s just the sun,” Cutter grumbled as he walked past.

  Watcher shook his head. All Cutter can see are enemies and battle, the boy thought. He’s missing everything else around him. He actually felt sorry for the warrior.

  The party moved quietly through the forest, approaching the dilapidated church from the west. They’d traveled along the road for an hour, maybe less, when they saw the tall tower of the church sticking up above the trees. When he saw the structure, Cutter led them off the road and approached from the cover of the forest, hoping to keep any unwanted monsters from spotting the NPCs before the NPCs spotted the monsters.

  They moved from tree to tree, using the trunks to hide their presence. Watcher held on to the rope tied around Er-Lan, keeping the monster close. The smell of the creature was terrible, and at times Watcher tried to get upwind from the monster to reduce the odor. Unfortunately, it did little to alleviate the stench.

  “Everyone stay here for a minute,” Blaster said.

  The boy removed his black leather armor and replaced it with armor colored forest green. He then ran toward the edge of the forest, fading into the background. In minutes, he returned with a smile on his square face.

  “I don’t see any guards around the church,” Blaster said. “In fact, the whole place looks deserted. The top floor is dark, but the bottom floor has a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I could see it through the huge windows in the side of the church.”

  “Hmmm.” Cutter turned and faced his prisoner. “Where are all the zombies?”

  The zombie shrugged. “Er-Lan does not know. Perhaps they headed for the fortress already, but Tu-Kar had to come here and collect all the NPC prisoners that were already captured. The zombie warlord might still be here with many soldiers.” He turned and faced Planter and Watcher. “All must be very careful.”

  “Great advice.” Blaster gave the group a mischievous grin.

  “Were there any guards on the entrance to the church?” Cutter asked.

  Blaster shook his head. “No, all the entrances were sealed with cobblestone. If we’re going in through the main entrance, then we’ll have to dig our way through with pickaxes.”

  “We can’t do that—everyone will hear us,” Watcher said.

  “You have a better idea, professor?” Cutter asked.

  Watcher moved to the edge of the forest and looked up at the church and tower. It was built from stone brick, some of the cubes cracked with age, while others were green and mossy. Vines hung down much of the structure, giving it a sad and forgotten look. Dotting the sides of the tower were small pieces of stone and wood that stuck out ever so slightly, likely the remains of some kind of decoration. These strange protrusions wrapped around one of the towers of the church, climbing up the walls until they reached the top. Behind some of the cracked windows torches flickered, casting a warm yellow glow.

  Surveying the structure with his keen eyes, Watcher searched for a path that would allow them to gain entrance into the church … and then he saw it.

  “Of course … we can jump,” he said to himself.

  Turning, he sped back to his friends.

  “I figured out a way we can get in without being noticed,” Watcher said. “We won’t need to dig through any stone and we’ll be completely silent.”

  “Oh really?” Cutter asked. “Tell us your magical strategy.”

  “Here�
�s what I think we do.” Watcher lowered his voice. “We climb up the outside of the tower. There are vines and small blocks we can stand on. We’ll use these to climb up the sides of the building, then jump onto the roof. There is an opening on the top floor.”

  “I like that plan.” Planter patted her friend on the back.

  Watcher beamed. He felt as if he were charged with electricity.

  “What do we do with him?” Blaster asked, pointing at the zombie.

  “He stays here.” Cutter grabbed Er-Lan and pulled him to a tree, then wrapped a rope around the prisoner and tree, tying him tight. “When we’re done, we’ll come back and get him, but we aren’t gonna have this monster give us away in there.”

  “Er-Lan will stay quiet,” the monster moaned. “It is not necessary to tie up this zombie.”

  “Be quiet!” Cutter snapped. “You’re staying here.”

  The warrior pulled out a cloth and tied it around the zombie’s mouth, making it impossible for him to speak. Er-Lan looked at Watcher and Planter, his dark eyes pleading for help.

  “Don’t worry, Er-Lan,” Watcher said. “We’ll be back for you.”

  “Yeah,” Planter added. “It’ll be okay. In no time, we’ll return and set you free again.”

  The monster nodded as a tear slowly dripped from his eyes. Watcher could tell Er-Lan was afraid. Maybe it was fear of being tied up, or being left alone. They had formed a bond with the zombie in their short time together, and found they had more in common than not. Er-Lan, like Watcher, felt alone in his zombie community. Being small and weak, everyone felt the monster was worthless; it was an attitude Watcher knew all too well.

  “Just be calm, Er-Lan,” Watcher said. “We’ll come back soon.”

  “How cute, the little villager trying to keep the little zombie from being afraid,” Cutter said. “How pathetic.”

  “Be nice,” Planter scolded, but Cutter had already turned his back and was heading for the church.

  Watcher sighed, then followed the big NPC toward the church tower.

  They sprinted across the clearing that circled the structure, each of them glancing to the left and right, watching for monsters. Cutter was the first to reach the building. Instantly, he began climbing the vines that ran down its rocky sides.

 

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