Killing The Dead | Book 21 | The Journey Home

by Murray, Richard

  There was no denying I looked a hell of a lot smarter than I had for some time and I hated the fact that it was necessary. It wasn’t every day you went to your own trial though.

  “Ready, lass?” Isaac asked, setting down my giggling son.

  The children didn’t seem worse for wear after their adventure and while they had both slept in the same bed with me since the day that Isaac and Samuel had brought them back, I was pretty sure that was more for my benefit than theirs.

  “As ready as I will ever be.”

  I kissed my son on the forehead and ruffled Angeline’s hair, knowing how she hated being shown affection, and received a furious glare in return. I knew her well enough to know it wasn’t real anger, just the same irritation her father had used to show at being touched.

  She was far too like him for comfort.

  I took one last look back at them before I headed out of the apartment, Isaac following close behind. Two of his security people, wearing the naval fatigues salvaged from Admiral Stewart’s stores, and carrying heavy batons and knives, fell in behind us. Two black-clad cultists fell in behind them.

  Feeling more than a little embarrassed by the four bodyguards, I walked the short distance to the council chamber. More than one person looked our way and I knew they were looking at me and not my strange entourage.

  A small crowd had gathered outside the building, held back by more of Isaac’s security personnel. Their numbers were growing fast and ever since Isaac had returned, he had been throwing himself into training as many as possible. He was as determined as any not to let something like the Dead taking over happen again.

  They parted to let me past and the bodyguards stayed outside as I made my way to the council chamber, heels clicking on the floor. A sound I had not heard for some time, so long in fact that it felt strange to my ears.

  Isaac touched my arm as we approached the doors and I looked over at the smile hidden beneath his bushy beard.

  “Will be fine, lass.”

  My own smile wasn’t so assured, and I simply nodded before pushing open the door and stepping inside.

  The room was full of people. They crowded the walls of the room, all chattering excitedly. A hush fell as they noted my presence and I stepped forward to stand before the long table where the councillors sat waiting.

  Cass was there, sitting beside the empty chair that was reserved for me as leader of the island’s government. Councillor Jones sat beside her; his face grim as he watched me. A good man, he had suffered as much as any during the fall of the world. His skin hung loose, and he had a habit of hunching his shoulders defensively when he spoke, but he was a man who cared deeply about the island.

  Two more councillors sat at either side of him and I nodded to each in turn. They were not friends, though they had long been allies. Alison Barnes, a former engineer who had taken it upon herself to find some meaning in her life by helping others after the loss of her own family, and John Drake, a retired school teacher who joined the council to try to ensure that as much knowledge as possible was retained.

  The rows of chairs behind me were filled with members of the public and I ignored the flashes as photographs were taken. Someone, it seemed, was intent on creating a newspaper and had been recruiting people to provide photos and stories both.

  It seemed that I was a hot topic, for not only were they there, but the island’s radio producers too. They had equipment with them that suggested my trial was about to be broadcast across the island. I could not fault them for that, though I hated it.

  “My Lady,” Councillor Jones said, bowing his head, a surprising show of deference for one about to judge my actions. “Are you well? Do you require a seat or something to drink?”

  “No; but thank you.”

  Councillor Jones nodded before leaning forward slightly so that he could look to either side and see that the other councillors were ready. He cleared his throat and leant back, looking directly at me.

  “Today, we have requested your presence before this council to discuss the events of the past year and a half. We will-“

  “Say it plain,” Councillor Barnes said. “We want answers and we don’t have the time to beat around the bush, there is still much to do.”

  I held up a hand before Councillor Jones could reply and turned my head, looking at each in turn. She had a point and there was no reason for us to be dragging it out.

  “Please,” I said. “First of all, I will offer my resignation from this council. My actions, and mine alone, brought about the coup by Sebastian Cho. It was due to my faith in the Dead that we were taken completely unawares.”

  It was hard to say, but no less true for that and I reached up to touch the scar on my neck, an almost subconscious gesture as I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

  “Those that died,” I continued, proud of how steady my voice was. “Their deaths lie squarely at my feet and while I cannot bring them back, I will accept whatever punishment you consider appropriate.”

  Cass had eyes that were red as she gently shook her head and Councillor Jones mouth hung open, as Alison Barnes smiled.

  “You misunderstand, madam,” Councillor Drake said, voice as dry and without humour as his appearance. “We are not here to censure you.”

  “We all supported the Dead,” Cass said. “And arguably, you suffered as much as anyone beneath their rule of this island. What we intend here-“

  “Is to ensure it doesn’t happen again,” Councillor Barnes finished.

  “I don’t understand.” My face must have shown my confusion. “I was in charge! I am the reason they wrote that damned book and it was my fault that they turned on us!”

  “No,” Councillor Jones said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Your only failing was believing in the people around you. In having faith that they were as good and true as you are.”

  “Kind words,” Councillor Barnes said, nodding along. “But no less true for that.”

  “We have allowed you two weeks to rest and recover,” Councillor Drake said. “Though it pains us to take you away from your rest, we need to know what is happening and what your plans are for the safety of this island its populace.”

  To say I was dumbfounded was an understatement. The faith these people had for me was a weight too much to bear and I knew that I was not up to the task, even if they did not. But, as I looked at their faces, I also knew that I had to at least try.

  “Some two hundred of the cultists are contained,” I began. “While three hundred more took flight with the remainder of our fishing fleet. They are headed for the mainland, there to search for whoever it was killed one of the parasites outside of London.”

  “Why did some stay behind?” Councillor Barnes asked.

  “No room on the boats is my best guess. They aren’t sailors, and while the fishermen gave up their boats without a fight when faced with the overwhelming numbers, I do not believe they thought they could pilot over-encumbered boats.”

  “Have we seen where they have taken those boats?” Councillor Drake asked.

  “They have come ashore at several points along the west coast leading down towards Wales. Some have continued on and we suspect these will circle around and make their way up the River Thames to the site of the parasites death.”

  “What about our fleet?” Councillor Barnes asked, and it was Cass who answered.

  “The naval warships are on an extended mission and are not expected back for some time. They are currently beyond our ability to contact and so we must wait until they return.”

  If they return. I couldn’t help that niggling little thought from creeping in, but I didn’t voice it as I waited for the next question.

  “I understand that we are undertaking the training of our own security forces,” Councillor Drake said.

  “Yes, sir.” Isaac stepped up beside me, his imposing presence offering some support to me. “I have thirty trained up enough that I can spare some to train others. I fully expect to increase our numbe
rs to around three hundred over the next few months.”

  “Why so many?” Alison Barnes asked. “Surely, the largest threat we have to face since the zombies died out, are the Dead and they have left.”

  “My lads… and lasses,” Isaac said. “Will be taking on the role of police, defence force and, where necessary, peace keeping force.”

  “Peace keeping?”

  “Yes.” I looked her square in the eye as I spoke up. “One thing that is abundantly clear is that when the Dead took over, all aid and support to the survivors on the mainland was removed. We are the largest group of survivors in the world, as far as we know. We are also the only ones that have retained use of some of the infrastructure that was in place.”

  I turned my head, looking at each of them in turn. I wanted to be sure that they knew this was important to me and if they weren’t going to accept my resignation, then they would need to be onboard.

  “Our species almost died out. Those that remain are struggling to survive and there are many dying of simple things like not having clean water. That is not acceptable when we have the ability to help them.”

  “The people who orchestrated the fall of the world are mostly gone, largely in part due to the supreme sacrifice of…” I hesitated even at that much of the memory of my love. “At the sacrifice made by our own people.”

  “Now,” I continued. “We are at a crossroads. We can continue as we were, small minded nations looking out for ourselves, or we can rise up as a species and create a new civilisation that aims to raise up all the people of this world.”

  “Fine words, and a finer sentiment,” Councillor Drake said. “Something we should all aspire to, but we have a duty of care to those who are on this island and-“

  “Perhaps that is something to discuss another time,” Cass said. “Now, some of the Dead remain at large on the island. Can they be trusted?”

  She knew they could, of course, but she wanted to make sure everyone else knew and I could have hugged her for that.

  “Yes. Those who remain outside of the sports centre are led by Samuel, and they are all loyal to the memory of their leader.”

  I still struggled to say his name, even five years after his death. I suspected that I might need to discuss that with Evie, since she was the islands leading trauma councillor and resident psychotherapist.

  “How can you be sure?” Councillor Barnes asked.

  “My children were taken by Sebastian Cho,” I said, staring her straight in the eye. “I will never again allow them to be in a position to be taken. At this moment, they are guarded by Samuel’s people and I have no doubts whatsoever about their safety.”

  “But,” I continued. “Samuel is aware of what happened as he was held prisoner by Sebastian Cho, and he will remain on the island only until the cultists in the sports centre are removed. After that, he will ensure they leave as soon as able.”

  “You are okay with this?” Cass asked, and I smiled.

  “Yes. They will go and do what they can to ensure those on the mainland are protected from raiders and the like.”

  “Finally, then,” Councillor Jones said. “How do you propose to remove the cultists from the sports centre?”

  My smile wavered then because no matter how many times I went over it, every single plan I came up with would end in blood and death. That was not acceptable.

  “With great difficulty,” was all I said.

  Chapter 6

  We went slowly, taking our time travelling so as to conserve our energies. We woke in the morning and ate a protein bar, apiece, before clearing camp and walking for four hours. Then, we stopped and rested for an hour and ate whatever food we were able to scavenge along the way.

  After that, we would walk until two hours before sunset which is when we would find a suitable, and safe, place to camp for the night. If we were able, we would have a small fire and cook some of the expired food.

  It wasn’t too bad, as expired food went. As long as the tin was undamaged, the food inside seemed to be okay. The only tin we tossed aside was a tin of tomato soup that had, what I could only assume to be some kind of fungus growing inside the tin when we opened it.

  Talk was kept to a minimum for there wasn’t really much to say. We had spent five years together beneath the ground and had exhausted pretty much everything we might have to say to one another.

  The going was easy for the motorway, while packed with cars for a great deal of its length, still had ample space for us to walk. As an added bonus, many of those cars had been packed by panicked people fleeing and we were able to scavenge bits of food here and there.

  As with everywhere else, the undergrowth at either side of the long stretch of motorway was overgrown to the point where it was impassable at points. One minor bonus was that blackberries were growing in several places along its length and we could pick enough to reward ourselves for the effort of travelling.

  On the third day, we were forced to stop. At some point, those fleeing cars had crashed, creating a pileup that stretched for some distance. The resulting undead had soon grown in number and begun travelling along the motorway.

  We could navigate the burnt-out wreckage and rusted hunks of metal that had once been cars, ignoring the burnt bones and abandoned belongings. What we couldn’t bypass, was the army’s response.

  “Must have been early on,” I said. “When the military were still trying to contain them.”

  “Seems a bit extreme,” Gregg muttered. “So, what now?”

  I stared ahead at the blasted ruins that been the motorway. A long stretch of road that had been torn up by explosives as they tried to stop a hoard of undead making their way along, and I shook my head.

  In the years since that long stretch of motorway have been shattered, the bare earth beneath exposed, nature had encroached. What should have been empty road, was an impassable morass of tall grass, brambles and bushes that spread over a wide area.

  “We find a way around,” I said.

  Which is what we did. We walked a mile back along the motorway to where an overpass crossed. There, I used my axe to cut a path through the undergrowth to the banking which we could climb to reach the road above.

  The road led to a small village called Frogmore, according to the sign outside of the town. A pretty village at one time, the homes were crumbling with more than one roof caving in as the rot set in.

  We spent the night in a small house on the edge of town and as my companions ate, I planned a new route. Frogmore was on the edge of St Albans, and we could travel along the roads north-west up and through Milton Keynes, passing by Coventry and ending up in Birmingham.

  It would add a few extra days to our journey, but since one endless road looked much like another, I didn’t expect it would matter too much. So, we finished our meal and slept, waking with the dawn, and eating a short breakfast before setting off along the new route.

  Another two days of walking along empty roads, and we had all lapsed into a sort of sullen silence broken only by the occasional soft murmur of annoyance at something or other. The boredom of the walk was becoming too much for all of us.

  Which was why, when I first caught sight of it beneath the branches of an oak tree, I stopped and stared.

  “What?” Gregg asked, looking back as he passed me.

  “There.” I pointed as he came to a stop, Abigail beside him. “Can you see?”

  “See what?”

  I ignored him and left the road to walk through the tall grass and towards the trees. As I approached, a cloud of flies leapt into the air, buzzing around me. I waved them away and knelt down beside the carcass.

  “Deer,” I said, as Abigail and Gregg approached.

  “What of it?”

  “Well, for one, it’s dead.” I ran my gaze over the body, noting the odd angle of the head as though the neck had been broken, and the torn flesh of the belly that had allowed the insides to spill out. “Very dead.”

  “Zombie?” Gregg asked, looking ar
ound, not that he could see much beneath the trees.

  I didn’t immediately answer as I pulled out the map. I’d been studying the damned thing every night for a week, and I was fairly confident in my answer but wanted to make sure. If I was right, it would be exciting and interesting, and if I was wrong, then there could be a zombie nearby.

  A quick look at the map and I smiled for the first time in days as I slowly calculated distance. Not far at all, and certainly within reason for such a creature.

  “What?” Abigail asked, looking first at me and then at Gregg. “Why’s he smiling?”

  Gregg only groaned in reply and my smile widened as I asked, “what do you think happened to the zoo animals when the world went to hell?”

  “I don’t know, died in their cages?”

  “And what if some well-meaning person let them out?”

  “Then the zombies would have eaten them. Can we just get going, mate?”

  I gave a pointed look at the deer. In truth, I wasn’t surprised to see them for they would have survived the zombies easily enough just by being able to move faster than the undead could. With no other predators, and ample food, I wasn’t surprised that the deer would flourish.

  “There’s a zoo about fifteen miles from us,” I said. “A big cat would likely have a territory of thirty square miles, if those documentaries you kept watching in the bunker were right.”

  “What sort of big cat?” Gregg asked, eye widening as he looked around, suddenly understanding the danger.

  “One big enough to snap the neck of a deer and tear open its belly,” I said, with a grin.

  Birds still sang in the trees nearby and if I tuned out Gregg’s worried rambling, I could just make out the rustle of the undergrowth where rabbits or other small creatures scurried. I was pretty sure there was no danger for that moment, but we would need some place secure to spend the night.

  “Doubt it will bother us,” I said. “Just keep an eye out, yeah?”

  “Keep an eye out!” Gregg spluttered as I grinned and set off back towards the road.