Killing The Dead 9 (Season 2 | Book 3): Family Matters

by Richard Murray

  No matter what I preferred, if Lily was still alive and I truly hoped she was, then the medicine she needed would be in the room beyond those zombies. I exhaled softly and looked to the girl.

  “Give me the knife,” I said in a voice as close to a whisper as I could.

  “What? Why? No way…”

  “Lily would kill me if she thought I let you see what I suspect is down there,” I replied in a quiet tone. My voice was cold, so very cold as I let that darkness inside of me full reign. I’d need it.

  The girl saw something behind my eyes as her body stiffened and the muscles in her face tightened. She handed over the knife silently and grasped the wheels of her chair as though anticipating a need to flee. The dog looked at me with her large eyes that seemed to know more than I expected and her teeth bared in a snarl.

  “Wait here,” I told the girl as I let my backpack drop to the floor, and turned the corner a knife in each hand and Jinx at my heel.

  Chapter 15 – Lily

  Caleb was a large man with the build of one who has gained his muscles through working hard, physically demanding jobs, rather than from the gym. His sandy coloured hair was still thick and curled and he’d cultivated a set of ‘mutton chops’ on his face that he managed to make look dignified rather than ridiculous.

  The men and women behind him, all wore similar clothes. Jeans, thick jackets for protection against the cool air and anger plain on their faces. I did a quick count and came up with eleven. Eleven people filled with righteous anger. This won’t end well.

  “Help me up,” I said to Cass who hesitated for a moment before putting one arm around my waist as my own, went over her shoulder.

  She lifted with a grunt that was followed by my inward gasp of air as pain shot through me and my legs trembled.

  “Here now,” Georgia said as she took my other arm. “You should be in bed, resting.”

  “Not yet,” I managed through gritted teeth as I took one laboured step towards the drama in the centre of the courtyard.

  Bryan lifted his arms with hands held out, palms facing the larger man before him. A gesture to indicate he had no idea what the other man was speaking of.

  “Hold now Caleb,” he said in a voice filled with quiet authority so like Ryan that my heart ached with the need for him to be with me now. “This won’t have been my son, we’re non-violent as you’re well aware.”

  “Aye, that you are,” the other man replied with an evil grin as he raised his two-foot steel bar in one hand as though it weighed nothing at all. “Which means you won’t stop us when we beat the truth from your boy.”

  “Now wait just a minute,” Bryan said. He took a step to his left, to stand directly in front of his son. He might be non-violent but he wasn't lacking in courage. “You aren’t the only one who has lost a son, put down your weapons and your threats and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me of loss when your boy stands cowering behind you!”

  “I had another son,” Bryan said with such quiet dignity that Caleb blinked owlishly and stepped back. “Found and then lost again in just the space of a few days, so do not think that I don’t know the grief you feel.”

  “They were my boys,” Caleb said, a catch in his voice. “All I had left.”

  The anger seemed to have drained from him and his shoulders sagged as he lowered his weapon. He gestured for the men and women behind him to lower their weapons, which they did, though slowly.

  Gabe wore a look of terror on his face and as I approached, I noticed he had a bandage wrapped around his neck. His eyes met mine and he nodded, just the once and I knew it had been Ryan who killed Caleb's sons.

  “Son,” Bryan said.

  “Yes dad,” Gabe replied in a tone the clearly indicated he had no desire to answer questions.

  “Tell us what happened when you went through the village, tell us everything.”

  Gabe looked from his father to Caleb and then to me with terror in his eyes. Anyone with an ounce of sense would be able to clearly see that he was desperately looking for a way out of this.

  “Gabriel?” Bryans said in a stern voice as he looked at his son, a frown forming on his brow.

  “I didn’t do it,” Gabe said. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “But you’re saying the other did?” Caleb demanded, his anger rising once more.

  “They did,” Gabe agreed and I had to watch as hope died on Bryan’s face when he realised his other son must have been involved. “It was Ryan, he killed them both.”

  “Why?” Bryan whispered as Caleb roared.

  “Where are they?”

  “Dead. They were swarmed by zombies up at the college.”

  Caleb screamed out his rage, arm rising with the steel bar clenched tightly in one fist. He looked for all the world as though he were about to use it to crush some skulls.

  “Tell them why,” I said and all eyes turned to me. “Go on Gabe, tell them why he killed them. He’d need a reason.” Please God let it be a good reason.

  Gabriel cringed away from my accusing stare and looked to his father, his eyes pleading. “Tell us why,” Bryan said.

  In halting tones, Gabriel explained what happened. The two men surrounded by corpses, eager to use their bats to stop the three of them going through the village. Impending violence and Ryan, lashing out with his blade.

  I watched Bryan as his son spoke and confessed to what had happened. His eyes wide at first with shock that soon turned to horror and then despair.

  “My boys, they died because they wouldn’t let you through the village…” Caleb hesitated and hefted his steel bar as though contemplating whether to use it. The rage seemed to have gone from him and in its place, a sense of hopeless disbelief.

  “Why would he do that?” Bryan whispered as his gaze sought mine, looking for answers. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate the truth and I felt nothing but compassion for him.

  “This new world has been harsh,” I said. “Aside from the endless number of zombies we’ve had to face, we’ve been betrayed by friends, attacked by deserters from the army, a psychopath or two and even cannibals.”

  I looked from Bryan to Caleb and back again. I needed them to understand, to believe that what he had done was because he felt he had no choice. I knew though, he’d killed them because they’d attempted to prevent him from getting the medicine to help me. It was my fault they’d died as much as anyone else’s.

  “It’s not been an easy few months,” I continued. “We’ve all had to do things that we wished we hadn’t needed to and even me…”

  Cass’s arm tightened around my waist as I squeezed my eyes shut. The images flashing before them almost too much for me to bear. Lives I’d been forced to take that haunted me and forever would.

  “There’s bad people out in the world and Ryan did what he felt he needed to. All to make sure he got the medicine for me. I’m not saying he wasn’t thinking clearly but he must have considered them a serious threat to him and the people he cared about to make him do what he did.”

  Liar, I told myself. He wouldn’t have broken his promise to me, I was sure of that. But, with me needing the medicine he was seeking, anyone who stood in his way would be automatically slotted into the ‘not innocent’ view in his mind and he wouldn’t have hesitated in killing them.

  His definition of innocent and not innocent was flexible. I’d known this for some time and ignored it, judging that he wouldn’t be too flexible when it really came to it and pretending, with each life he saved that he didn’t have to, that he was learning to become more human, more caring. I was deluding myself.

  “There’s nothing we can do to bring your boys back,” Bryan said, his voice breaking the silence that had fallen after I’d finished speaking. “And there’s no one to get revenge on because my son… Ryan, he was punished for what he did. His death at the hands of the undead was justice for you.”

  “Nae man,” Caleb said and wiped his sleeve across his
eyes. “There’s no justice for anyone anymore.”

  “Stay the night,” Bryan said, his hand reaching out to the other man. “We’ll share a meal and speak of your boys. You can tell me about them and we will pray together.”

  “We’ll stay,” the man said after a brief hesitation. “But you can keep your prayers for yourself and that bastard of a son you birthed.”

  The tension had begun to fade as the threat of imminent violence dissipated and I breathed a sigh of relief. Gabe, with one last look at me, scurried away. No doubt feeling it was for the best for him to be out of sight.

  “Take me back to my room,” I said. “Please.”

  “Here,” Pat said and passed the two clubs he held to Cass. I’d not even heard him approach but welcomed his strength as he lifted me easily in his arms.

  My head rested against his chest and I could hear his heart beating. It was comforting in a way and I closed my eyes against the darkness that had begun to cloud my vision. There were two more deaths to trouble my dreams and for once I longed for the deep, dreamless sleep that awaited me.

  Chapter 16 – Ryan

  My blade hammered down into the skull of a zombie still wearing a nurses’ uniform and blood sprayed across the files and folders that sat atop the nurse's station. My chest heaved and breath came in shallow gasps as I almost staggered and fell.

  Exhaustion washed over me and the darkness was gone, sated at least for a little while by the deaths I had wrought on the zombies that infested the wards of that floor.

  Jinx settled on the floor beside my feet, tongue lolling as she panted. Blood covered her muzzle and she had a deep gouge on her left side from where a zombie had grabbed her. I’d killed it before it had managed to bite her, but still, that wound would need looking at.

  The corridor behind me was carpeted with the dead and far too many of them were the small bodies of the ward I’d had to clear. I closed my eyes, just for a moment and sought to calm my breathing and regain some energy when all I wanted to do was sleep.

  “Dude,” Charlie called, her voice barely above a whisper but clearly audible in the stillness of the hospital.

  “What?”

  “That was incredible,” she said. “And as impressed as I am, I can’t get to you over these bodies.”

  I opened my eyes and looked her way. She was part way down the corridor, a couple of bodies were behind her and she’d managed to push them to the sides of the hallway to get through on her chair but the sheer number of bodies that littered the floor ahead of her made it impossible for her to get past.

  My legs felt like they were made of iron as I moved over the bodies, stumbling often, towards her. She had my backpack on her lap and as I reached her, she opened it and pulled out the two-litre bottle of water and passed it over.

  It was barely a quarter full but I unscrewed the lid and drank deeply before nodding my thanks. I gestured her to wait as I headed back to the nearest door and nipped inside. I returned a minute later with a metal dish that I had no idea what purpose it had once served but for now, would make an ideal dish for the dog.

  I set it on the floor beside Charlie's chair and filled it with water before waving the dog over. She came across the bodies slowly and flopped down on her belly beside Charlie's chair, close enough that she could lap at the water in the bowl. The remainder of the bottle, I drank down before I cast it aside. I’d need the space in the bag.

  With one hand I lifted the bag from her lap and with the other, started to pull out the few items I’d brought with me. Discarding them without a thought before turning and making my way back down the corridor to the supply rooms.

  The electronic lock had no power so was stuck in the locked position. The material the door was made of though was just simple and fairly cheap. Since it was next to an active nurse’s station, they wouldn’t have expected anyone to just come up and break it down like I was about to.

  I had a moment's hesitation as I considered the possibility that the noise would bring more of the undead to me, but time was pressing and I’d just wasted far too much clearing the entire section of the hospital. I raised one booted foot and kicked out.

  Three solid kicks and the door swung inwards, the thin material around the lock broken beyond repair. I pulled the flashlight from the backpack, the only thing I’d left in it, and flicked the light on.

  Shelves full of boxes and stacked vials greeted me and I pulled out the list that my sister had provided and began searching for the items on it.

  I moved quickly down the list, finding items and stashing them in my bag. It didn’t take long to go through the items on the list and collect the ones I could find. The ones I couldn’t, she would have to live without. When the list was done, I grabbed as many other items as I could and filled the backpack to bursting before sealing it up and swinging it over my shoulders.

  “Dude!” Charlie whispered loudly and I glanced back to see her looking around nervously. She saw me look her way and pointed out that dog.

  Jinx was on her feet, ears pricked as she looked back along the corridor and her teeth were bared in a silent snarl. Not a great sign, I thought and secured the backpack on my back as best I could. It was heavy and I would be overbalanced if I tried to fight, but it was necessary. The first thing I had found were the antibiotics that Lily needed and there was no way I would be losing them now.

  I moved quickly down the corridor to where Charlie waited next to the silent hound. Jinx took a moment to look up at me and I had the uncanny impression that she was trying to make sure my attention was on what was coming. I readied my knives.

  Each step taken was silent but for the occasional click of claws on the once polished floor and the scrape of rubber as Charlie moved along behind me. Jinx looked at me again and I nodded to her, I could hear it.

  The sound of feet hitting the floor. Thud, thud, thud, pause… then repeated. Something moving quickly, so not one of the undead Shamblers. Feral.

  I paused at the corner and peered around it. There, towards the stairs that led down, was a zombie. Its hair was thin and brittle, matted to its head and its eyes were glazed over with a white film.

  Torn and filthy clothing covered its wiry frame and it was hunched over, arms hanging loose, claw-like fingers held just above the floor. It moved oddly, three steps then pause as it moved its head around, nose to the air as though following a scent.

  Despite the film over their eyes, I knew they weren’t fully blind though their eyesight was poor. The skin over the tips of its fingers was thin, as though the flesh had melted away leaving just bone beneath and the skin had hardened, making its hands truly claw-like and no doubt useful for tearing into flesh.

  If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I would have been more curious. I’d seen the beginnings of such behaviour in those zombies I’d spent my time observing over the winter. Whatever had initially brought about their return from death wasn’t satisfied with leaving them all as the brainless Shamblers, but seemed instead, intent on evolving them into something not quite alive, but not dead.

  I glanced down at the hound and noted the wound on her side. I gestured for her to stay, the Ferals were not as easy to kill as the other undead and I didn’t expect Lily would be pleased if I let the dog die in a fight with one. Charlie, of course, was little use in a fight with a normal zombie, so I dismissed her and took a deep breath.

  Thud, thud, thud… pause then repeat. As it came closer to the corner it got louder, the sound echoing along the corridor and beneath it, a faint snuffling as though the Feral truly was hunting a scent. That’s not disturbing at all.

  It moved again and I stepped out in front of it, my arm lashing out with the claw blade, a distraction that made it sway to the side to meet my other hand that held the combat knife.

  With more agility than I expected, it ducked the combat knife and jumped back, a low wail issuing from its mouth. I bit down on the urge to curse and stalked forward, weapons held before me. The damned backpack sitting like a bou
lder on my back.

  The Feral darted forward, hands lashing out and I did swear as my coat received a new tear in its material. It swung its arm again and I raised my own to block it as I kicked at its legs to little effect. I was tired and it seemed to sense that as it toyed with me. Darting in and swiping with its clawed fingers and backing away.

  I backed up, even with and then past the corridor where the others were. It followed without taking its eyes from me and I whistled, low and insistent. Without hesitation Jinx dashed from the corridor and leapt onto the hunched back of the Feral, powerful jaws seeking its neck.

  It growled and stood upright, shaking from side to side as it reached up with its hands to try and reach the hound. I saw my chance and stepped into its range, combat knife plunging up beneath its chin and into the brain.

  Without a sound, it fell to the ground and I heaved a deep sigh. Bone weary and limbs trembling, I pulled my knife free and patted the dog on the head. She’d been more than useful and I’d remember that. She’d certainly earned her place in my little group of trusted friends.

  “Fuck me!” Charlie said as she joined me in heading towards the stairs. “What the fuck was that?”

  “Feral,” I said. “Smarter, faster and harder to kill than the usual undead.”

  “Those are what’re outside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh fuck me.”

  I held back the grin as I pushed open the door to the stairwell. She’d proven herself less than useless in a fight and while I had no objection to her presence if she could keep up, I had no intention of saving her life if more of them came after us.

  ****

  We were out of the doors and across the bridge without being seen. It was only while crossing the open landing field that a howl sounded behind us and I looked back to see a lone Feral crouched beside the stacked, tarpaulin covered bodies.

  With an impressive litany of curses, Charlie gave up all pretence of stealth and redoubled her efforts to cross the field, following the path we had made earlier. Jinx looked at me and set off at a trot as I jogged along behind, the damn backpack a great deal heavier with every step.