The Undead_Day 22

by R. R. Haywood

  ‘We shall be kings once more,’ the Krye tells Gregori, watching him closely through hooded eyes. Watching the way Gregori sits without moving. The way his hands rest on his knees and the way his head stays lowered as though in respect but Konstandin is not stupid. To be a Krye means being aware of all things at all times and although Gregori sits in subservience now, Konstandin knows Gregori’s head being lowered widens his peripheral vision which in turn means the man can monitor the positions of everyone in the room. The Krye is also aware of the woman in the gown. He saw her breasts spilling from her bra and her state of undress when she ran into the lobby. He also saw the bulge in Gregori’s shorts and all those things give him a concern because the uglyman is a very dangerous man.

  ‘Drink’ the Krye tells his men, looking around. ‘You have worked hard. Drink now. Relax a little…’ he looks over as though becoming aware of Cassie and the child for the first time. ‘The woman and the boy, who are they?’ he asks Gregori in such a casual tone it makes Ylli’s senses sharpen.

  ‘I found them,’ Gregori replies, still looking down at the floor.

  ‘Oh,’ the Krye says, nodding slowly. ‘She is a fine-looking woman, Gregori…good breasts no? Nice and juicy!’ he laughs at his own words and so does everyone else. The old man looks around, nodding at his men while motioning as though to cup a big breast. ‘Eh? Big and juicy…’

  Cassie swallows, not following the words but knowing enough to determine what they are talking about and she looks down at the boy murmuring, his eyes moving under the lids and a few gentle spasms showing in his arms and legs. Whatever happens, the boy must be safe. She thinks to wake him, to tell him to bring the ones outside but there are too many men here, too many guns and the risk of a bullet hitting the boy is too great.

  ‘Big and juicy,’ the Krye says again, repeating his joke in the way of a man used to being able to say anything he wants as many times as he wants. He sighs, lifting his eyebrows as the laughing tails off and he sips from his glass. ‘But you are not to be with a family, Gregori,’ he adds in a tone designed to be gentle and soft yet dripping with threat and the laughs die out as the men look to Gregori. ‘And yet here you are, with a family.’

  ‘Yes,’ Gregori says.

  Cassie detects the change. The way the other men stiffen ever so slightly and the tension increasing in the room as the bolts of lightning flash across the sky and the thunder rumbles so deep and loud, mocking the mere mortals clinging to their lives.

  ‘But still,’ the Krye says, finishing his glass and holding it out for someone to make it whole again. ‘These times are unprecedented so perhaps we can see that a woman with a child would offer herself for your protection. That is human nature…’

  Gregori thinks to explain that the boy is not the child of Cassie but he stays quiet because to speak without consent to a Krye is forbidden.

  ‘Yes,’ the Krye says again, dipping his head to tell Ylli to stop filling the glass. ‘We are men here, we can see why you would do this. Would you agree, Ylli?’

  ‘Of course,’ Ylli says, knowing when his Krye wishes for him to take over. ‘But you are back with fis now Gregori. Your Besa is to us.’

  ‘Yes,’ Gregori says, unmoving.

  ‘This is good,’ Ylli says, smiling at his men. ‘The woman? She is special to you?’

  ‘I’d like the woman to be special to me,’ Ditmer jokes before Gregori can answer. A few chuckles and again they all look over to Cassie.

  ‘You are too big for her, Ditmer,’ Behar says. ‘You need a big fat Russian wife to rut with…’

  ‘I don’t want a Russian,’ Ditmer spits, making them laugh. ‘They stink and they argue too much.’

  ‘You stink which is why I’m not going on her after you,’ Behar says. ‘You can go last and drown her in your sweat…’

  ‘I went last time,’ Ditmer says, rolling his eyes. ‘I always go last! Ylli, this is not fair.’

  Ylli smiles, looking around at the men laughing. ‘Gregori? You have no issues if we share the woman?’ he asks, and the test is laid. The test of allegiance within minutes of entering the hotel. We will gang-rape your woman to make sure you are loyal, and we will tell you we are going to do this to study your reaction.

  ‘Is good,’ Gregori says, lifting his eyes as Ditmer rises and takes a step towards Cassie.

  ‘Not now, Ditmer,’ Ylli laughs.

  ‘I am not going last,’ Ditmer says.

  A nod from the Krye. A look from Ylli. Ditmer sits, instantly falling into a silence that rolls out as the Krye sips from his glass. ‘What do you know, Gregori?’

  Ylli shifts position, watching with interest.

  ‘This…situation,’ the old man says. ‘People biting each other. What do you know?’ Gregori stays quiet, his eyes lowered. The Krye drinks his scotch and swallows loudly. ‘Survivors? Have you seen many?’

  ‘No,’ Gregori replies.

  ‘None or some?’ Ylli asks.

  ‘Some. Not many.’

  ‘Where did you find the girl?’ Ylli asks, once again assuming the right to take over the questioning.

  ‘I looked for a house. She was inside.’

  ‘What is her name?’

  ‘Cassie.’

  ‘What?’ Cassie asks, hearing her name.

  ‘She speaks,’ Brehar jokes.

  ‘She won’t soon,’ Ditmer mutters.

  ‘You said she,’ Ylli says, smiling as he cocks his head over. ‘Not they…’

  Gregori stays still and quiet.

  ‘So you did not find the woman and the boy together. You would have said if you found them in a house. You said she…is she not the child’s mother?’

  ‘No,’ Gregori says.

  ‘You lie to the Krye?’ Ylli asks.

  ‘No.’

  ‘He is the uglyman,’ the Krye says, lifting a hand. ‘He has no intelligence.’

  ‘Yes, this is true,’ Ylli sighs, looking over at Cassie and switching to English. ‘Miss? Where did you meet Gregori?’

  Cassie swallows, not knowing what Gregori said and not knowing how much to say herself. ‘I was in a house,’ she offers, keeping her voice down and her eyes averted as though too scared to talk.

  ‘And the child?’ Ylli asks.

  ‘Gregori already had him,’ she replies. ‘But I care for him now…’

  Ylli frowns, sharing glances with Ditmer and Brehar. ‘You are taking children now, Gregori?’

  ‘He was alone,’ Gregori says. ‘I saw his mother die. I…I help.’

  ‘The boy? He is English?’ Ylli asks.

  ‘Yes,’ Gregori says.

  ‘He is not fis.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘We trained you, Gregori. We trained you to protect us. Not English children.’

  The boy stirs in her arms, his eye blinking heavily as he wakes to stare up at Cassie then lifts his head to look round the room. ‘Sssshhhh not a word,’ Cassie whispers in his ear. ‘Don’t speak…’

  Ylli flicks a hand at Ditmer who pushes up from his seat and exhales noisily through his nose while walking over to loom in front of Gregori in the chair. The man’s back so wide it pushes his arms out which in turn can’t straighten for the sheer bulk of muscle.

  ‘Your Besa is to us, Gregori,’ Ylli says. A look from the Krye to Yllie. A look from Ylli to Ditmer who lashes out with a stinging backhanded strike across Gregori’s face, snapping his head over but the uglyman stays silent and unmoving, simply taking the hit as the boy tries to squirm to sit up in Cassie’s arms while she holds him tight, her heart booming in real fear. There is nothing Gregori can do. There’s too many of them to fight. She can see that, but she has to get the boy out. The boy must be saved.

  Ditmer turns to head back to the others but Konstandin lifts an eyebrow and sips from his glass with enough of a silent message passed to Ditmer who pauses, nods at his master and spins back round to slam a fist into Gregori’s chest with such power it lifts the man up and out of the chair, sending him flying back throu
gh the room to land crumpled against a wall, gasping for air.

  Cassie gasps, her stomach in knots, twisting and turning over. She didn’t think it would get this bad this quickly. The boy. She has to get him out. He squirms again in her arms, lifting to see Gregori slumped against the wall and cocking his small head over as though confused. ‘Will Gregori makes his brains come out?’

  She clamps a hand over his mouth, checking to see the men are all focussed on Ditmer getting another nod from the old man and stalking across the room towards Gregori who slides to one side, clutching his chest while taking shallow fast breaths.

  ‘You do not look after little English children,’ the Krye says.

  Ditmer reaches down, gripping Gregori round the throat with one hand and lifting him up with staggering ease to hold pinned against the wall with his toes barely touching the floor. His own hands resting gently on the man holding him. Not fighting. Not resisting. His bulging eyes turning red from the lack of air. His awful, pock-marked face looking haggard and sick. His eyes take in Cassie and the boy and everyone else and he knows the Krye will either have him beaten to near death or have him killed outright. It is Besa. It is the way of things.

  ‘Your duty is to us,’ the Krye says. ‘A family corrupts a man, Gregori…a family makes a man soft and makes him question his loyalties…’ A pause to drink and enough time for Ditmer to rag Gregori through a set of tables and chairs, throwing him down to the floor to kick in the ribs before picking him back up to smash down through another table but still he doesn’t fight or resist because it is not right to do so.

  Cassie shifts in the seat, bringing the boy’s ear close to her mouth. ‘You have to go…find somewhere to hide and make them come here. You hear me? You hide and you stay hidden until everyone is dead…’

  She spoke too loud and Ylli looks over. Others too and Ditmer turns from beating Gregori. She freezes, the boy in her arms then slowly edges off the seat to stand and lower the silent boy to his feet. ‘Go on now…’ she says in a weak voice, pushing the boy towards the door.

  Ylli shakes his head. ‘He will stay.’

  ‘I er…I don’t want him to see,’ she says, pushing the boy again. ‘Go now,’ she whispers again but the boy doesn’t go. He stands and stares, looking from Gregori to Ditmer to the men at the table and the men at the bar.

  ‘They’re climbing the walls,’ he says out loud, his young voice carrying across the room.

  ‘No, Boy,’ Gregori grunts, lifting his bleeding head to look over. ‘You go now…’

  ‘What walls?’ Ylli asks, a smirk on his face.

  ‘Go now,’ Cassie says, pushing the boy to the door as Ylli shakes his head.

  ‘The fort,’ the boy says, refusing to be pushed. ‘To kill Howie…’

  ‘Boy!’ Gregori hisses then slams down from a punch given by Ditmer that hammers him into the floor. ‘Go…you go…’

  ‘Please, let the boy go,’ Cassie begs.

  ‘You RUN,’ Gregori shouts as Ditmer kicks him across the room into the base of the bar.

  ‘See!’ The Kyre says, lifting a hand in emphasis. ‘He is corrupt. They have corrupted him. This is what a family does to a man. Even the uglyman has been bewitched…’

  ‘But the boy, he is not afraid,’ Ylli laughs, motioning towards the child. ‘I like him! He is not crying…maybe he wants to watch our fun.,’ he switches to English, smiling at the child. ‘Come here little boy, come and watch with Uncle Ylli…have some whiskey…’

  The men laugh deep and harsh and Ditmer lifts Gregori up high to slam down on the top of the bar then runs the length, dragging Gregori across the top, making the men scatter and laugh and throw their glasses and bottles at the uglyman as he goes by.

  ‘You like this?’ Ylli asks, looking from Gregori sliding along the bar to the child. ‘Come, come to Uncle Ylli…’

  ‘No,’ Cassie says, moving in front of the boy. She tugs her gown open, letting it drop from her shoulders and reaches back to unhook her bra, casting it aside to stand naked. ‘Go,’ she whispers. ‘Go!’ she pushes the boy again who blinks comically at her breasts in a way that makes Ylli roar with laughter.

  ‘I love this child!’

  ‘He is a good boy,’ the Krye says, chuckling at the sight.

  ‘Get out…’ Cassie says, pushing at the child.

  ‘BOY!’ Gregori roars, still pinned to the bar. ‘GO…’

  The boy starts running but not towards the door. Instead, he runs in his underpants past Ylli, the old man and Brehar to the bar and to the pylon like legs of Ditmer that he starts kicking and punching like an ant attacking a tree with a naked Cassie running behind him and the sight is too much. Ylli laughing so hard the tears stream from his eyes. Brehar too and the men in the bar who watch Ditmer slowly look down to a small child beating on his legs then back to see Cassie bending over to try and grab the boy, but the child darts from her reach, going round Ditmer’s legs to carry on hitting him. Cassie gives chase, bent over and baring her arse to the room as she cries out for the boy to stop.

  ‘I never see such a thing,’ Ylli cries. Even the Krye wipes the tears from his cheeks at the sight and laughs harder when the boy goes through Ditmer’s legs who simply stares down at the proceedings as though he is not involved while pinning Gregori to the bar-top with one hand. ‘Oh my god,’ Ylli gasps. ‘We must keep this boy…he is the new Gregori…boy…BOY!’ he shouts out while reaching into a pocket to pull a small black switchblade out. A button pressed and the blade pops out. Small and silvery. ‘BOY…use this…’

  ‘You give him a knife. Ylli?’ Ditmer asks, making every man roar with laughter.

  ‘The giant is scared of a boy with a flick-knife,’ Brehar says, waving his hand from laughing so much.

  The boy spots the knife, his face hardening as he runs towards Ylli with Cassie lurching to try and grab him but Ylli moves faster, plucking the boy from the air to hold him tight and smiling as Cassie comes to a stop in front of him.

  ‘Please…please let him go…’

  ‘Big and juicy,’ the Krye shouts, staring at her boobs. The laughing gets harder, louder.

  Ylli lowers the squirming child and holds the knife just out of his reach. ‘You want this?’

  The boy nods, his eyes fixed on the knife.

  ‘You want this?’

  ‘Yes! Gimme…’ the boy squirms, trying to reach it.

  ‘Good boy,’ Ylli says, letting him go and handing the knife over before lashing out to grip Cassie’s hair, forcing her back and down onto her knees.

  ‘You gave him the knife!’ Ditmer squawks, setting them all off again.

  ‘BOY…GET OUT,’ Cassie screams.

  ‘BOY, YOU GO,’ Gregori roars, bucking to get free from the mighty arm of Ditmer holding him down.

  The boy stares at the blade in his hand then turns and look back to Ditmer, his little face contorting in rage as he starts walking towards the huge man.

  ‘No,’ Ditmer tells the child. ‘NO…’ he lifts a hand up as though telling the boy off while the men squeal and cry with laughter. ‘You stab me and I will smack you…someone tell him in English…’

  Cassie screams and yells. Gregori the same. His head turned to just see past Ditmer to the boy holding a small knife who sticks the point in Ditmer’s left arse-cheek who shouts out and the men laugh and weep as the Krye watches Cassie’s boobs and thinks he was right to bring his supply of Viagra.

  A fleeting second of a look from the boy to Gregori. Eyes-locking. The boy flushed and furious. Gregori glaring. ‘Lessons, Boy…I teach you…’

  ‘YOU SHIT,’ Ditmer shouts, swiping at the boy as he tugs the blade free, sending him slamming back into a chair but he rights quickly and runs back in, remembering his lessons.

  Ankle to ankle. Achilles to Achilles. Up and slice the right thigh then the left. Cut the hamstrings then stab up with every ounce of strength into the groin into the artery and pull the blade free to let the blood spray thick and red as Ditmer screams and Ylli
’s laugh cuts off as the men widen their eyes.

  Gregori knew the second he lowered his pistols in the hotel lobby, that he’d made a mistake, but it was already too late, so he waited for the right position, for the right tactical second to react, and that second is now while Ditmer screams at his blood spurting.

  He grips the hand holding him down. A wrench, a grunt and he snaps the wrist before vaulting backwards to roll off the bar slamming into the two men he knew were there and the uglyman goes to work as Cassie screams and the men lunge for their weapons as every window of the bar implodes with a screeching howl of voices led by Daudi who crashes through the glass with his red eyes blazing and his hands clawed.

  ‘KILL THEM,’ Cassie roars, on her knees with Ylli still gripping her hair. ‘KILL THEM ALL…’

  Gregori headbutts one while slamming the blade of his right hand into the throat of the other and as both fall back so he turns and goes into the gangsters rushing into him as Daudi rips a stunned Brehar from his chair, carrying the man into Ditmer and taking both men down with fingers clawing at eyes and teeth biting into necks and faces.

  Gregori fights and kills his brethren, his kin, the men who beat and starved him and who made him bleed in the snow and eat dead rats to honour a fucked up system for a debt that was never his. That’s all he was. A debt. A tool. A thing, but now that thing turns against them and the Albanians shoot their guns and scream out, but the attack is too brutal, too swift and too fuelled by a rage unleashed for the damning temerity of touching the boy as the doors and windows throughout the hotel and spa smash in with infected wild and screaming, rushing into the bar to fill the space and kill and tear flesh and rip limbs from bodies and eyes from skulls, not to infect, not to pass what they have, but to punish.

  Mere seconds and it’s done. The walls and ceiling dripping blood. The air thick with the stench of death and the sky outside flashes white and the thunder comes with just two left alive. Ylli and the Krye. The second in command still holding Cassie by her hair. His head turning this way and that in absolute shock as the infected all stand from their kills to turn in towards him with mouths dripping blood and eyes so red. They stop converging, coming to a stop and a path opens through which the boy walks with Gregori at his back, a pistol in each his hand. The uglyman on his feet and worse than ever before. His head higher, his muscles gleaming. His body toned to perfection from a life of sacrifice and torture and pain. The boy in front of him. Not the boy. The thing inside. Cassie can see it in his eyes and she sees the world is theirs. Theirs for the taking and while naked on her knees she looks to Gregori, locking eyes because she has now proven herself and went naked into hell so the boy may live.