Chapter 25
Ryan
I ducked beneath a clumsy lunge and shoulder barged the zombie out of my way. It fell to the ground at my feet, arms flailing at my trembling legs as I leapt over it and continued my flight.
The moans of the undead seemed to be all around me as the horde spread outwards in pursuit of the villagers and my friends. It still surprised me that I felt a speck of concern for their welfare, not that I could do much to help with the majority of the zombies between us.
My foot snagged against a root and I felt a jolt run through me as I hit the muddy ground. I cursed as I climbed wearily back to my feet as pain radiated out of my left knee. With little choice, I gritted my teeth and set off again.
A glance back over my shoulder showed the shadowed form of countless zombies following in my wake. They slipped often in the mud and collided with the trees in the darkness but they were tireless and relentless. I, on the other hand, was very much exhausted.
Mangled claws that had once been hands reached for me as a zombie rounded a tree beside me. I struck out with my knife and caught it a glancing blow to the face, my blade rebounding from the hard bone of its forehead.
I swore loudly at the weariness that had robbed my limbs of their strength and apparently my ability to aim my blade. The zombie, perhaps sensing my weariness, grabbed at my arm and pulled. With profound distaste my head shot forward to strike it directly in the face and I felt blood and slimy flesh splatter beneath my forehead.
The zombie fell back, its face a barely recognisable mess as the next reached for me. I kicked the foul creature’s legs out from under it and swore loudly at the burst of pain from my knee as the zombie fell before the others who stumbled right over it.
With all of them down in a heap I left them there and carried on my running, not sparing the time to finish them off. I wiped at the stinking mess that coated my forehead and offered thanks to every deity I could recall, that I hadn’t split my own skin and become infected.
Ahead of me the ground dipped and I had to slow my pace to edge sideways down the slippery slope of mud and leaf mulch. My feet splashed the water in the deep puddle at the bottom of the slope and fresh mud coated my boots.
A dozen paces and then I was pulling myself up other side, hands grasping at weeds and grass to aid my ascent as my boots struggled in the mud. Behind me the zombies made their own descent down the slope, falling and tumbling over one another. I hoped it would give me some time to get ahead.
When I reached the top of the slope I set off running without looking back. My lungs were struggling to keep up with the pace and I found myself gasping for air as an ache in my side heralded the start of a stitch.
The only bonus was that the sky was lightening with dawn which made it a little easier to see where I was going. The nightmare flight through the woods and fields with the zombies chasing me had been especially arduous with the darkness.
Fortunately as the storm had ended it the moon had come out from behind the clouds and the wind had settled a little. Enough for me to get by at least, though I had no idea what had happened to the others.
At some point after the wall had collapsed, releasing the entirety of the horde into that small space between our resting place and the road, I’d been separated from Pat. Lost in the violence and the almost pleasurable slaughter of the overwhelming number of undead, I hadn’t noticed until too late.
With the risk of being surrounded and killed or perhaps turned into one of the mindless creatures, I did the only sensible thing I could. I ran.
My flight took me north-west and then when the ground began to rise into steep rock faces and hills, I angled back to the east. Since I knew that if anyone survived then that is the way they would go as well as the fact that Lily lay in that direction, it was the only real way I could go. All the way the relentless horde followed me.
Since the end of the world began, I had pushed myself to my boundaries. While I wasn’t exactly unfit back then, I had found that I was woefully unprepared for the constant exercise the apocalypse required.
It was safe to say that now, even with the less than adequate diet, I was as physically fit as I had ever been. It wasn’t enough. They were gaining on me and as my energy drained away, they seemed to have an unending reservoir of energy to draw on.
The next time I glanced back, the first of the zombies that had clawed their way up the slope were rising to their feet. Faces turned towards me as they continued the chase.
I was very tempted to stop and use what little energy I had left in a final battle with them. To take as many of them with me as I could. But no, that wouldn’t do. When death came for me it wouldn’t be at the hands of the slow, stumbling monstrosities that infested the world.
As the trees fell away the ground rose sharply and I pushed on up the hill. When I reached the top, I had been slowed so much that my pursuers were already ascending the hill. I paused to catch my breath, aware of the need to continue but unable to do so.
From the top of the hill I could see a fair distance around me. Back to the west the ground rose into the mountains with snow-capped peaks and somewhere in the trees below them was the bound form of Jenny, abandoned in our flight. To the south-west was Coniston, too distant to see clearly while to the north-east I could make out the town at the top of Lake Windermere.
To the east and a little south was Hawkshead and beyond that, the final hills I would need to climb before the lake. In between all that were the forests and wide open fields that I could clearly see swarmed with the undead.
I couldn’t get through all of that, not with exhaustion clawing at my limbs as it currently did. I needed somewhere safe to rest, to recover before I could make my way home to Lily.
With a weary sigh I realised I had little choice but to head north, away from the island and towards the top of the lake. Perhaps there I could find a route that would take me back south, back home.
My aching limbs protested as I set off at a slow trot. It would take the zombies at least a little time to reach the crest of the hill but I wanted to be down the other side before they did. All I needed was to be halfway to the bottom as they came rolling down after me.
At the bottom of the hill was a drystone wall that bordered an open field with a farmhouse in the distance. I was fast becoming irked at the number of such walls that filled the English countryside, especially as I had to try and climb the bloody things when exhausted.
The only bonus being that the wall would stop the zombies for a little bit, hopefully long enough for me to escape.
As I set off across the field, the first of the zombies tried to descend the hill and much as expected they ended up rolling most of the way. Their ungainly gait and general poor balance was useless for walking down a slope.
I left them to it as I pushed on. I kept low and close to the wall so as not to be noticed by anything that may be wandering in the adjoining fields. Admittedly from the cacophony behind me, anything close by would be alerted already but no need to make it easy for them.
At the end of the field I paused beside the wall and peered over at the farmhouse. Several zombies had found their way up the dirt road that led to the main house and stood before it looking aimlessly into space. The now distant cries of their brethren had not registered as yet.
Since none of them were looking directly at me, I slipped over the wall as quietly as I could. One foot braced halfway up the wall as I swung my injured leg over. A few loose chips of stone were dislodged to fall to the grass without notice.
A quick dash across the still damp dirt road and I pressed myself up against the grey stone wall of the barn. I’d gone unnoticed by the undead in front of the house and with any luck those that had pursued me would lose interest once they realised I was long gone.
That being the case, I had the chance to get some rest. I slipped into the barn through the half open timber door and peered around in the dim interior.
Rusted farm equipment and old machinery filled the dust covered floor and cobwebs hung everywhere. Several bales of hay were going to waste in one corner and much to my delight a wooden ladder led up to a second level.
I climbed cautiously, though I didn’t really expect to find any zombies at the top of the ladder. It paid to be careful.
Fortunately the loft was empty but for old boxes of assorted junk and spare timber. I couldn’t see a way to move the ladder, it seemed to be bolted on to the wood so settled for moving a couple of the heavier boxes right in front of it.
Anyone who managed to climb it would have trouble getting past the boxes without alerting me. At least that’s what I hoped as I settled down against the wall and closed my eyes. A few hours’ sleep and the chance to recover some energy and then I could think about finding my way back home.
As I descended into slumber, I wondered what had happened to my friends.
Chapter 26
Lily
Two guards, just two. It was understandable, he only had so many people with him. They needed sleep as much as the rest of us and had to keep order during the day too. So just two people on guard through the night. I could handle that.
All around me were people lying on the hard wooden floor, wrapped in their blankets and trying to sleep as Julie wept quietly. If I tried to listen, I was sure I could pick out more people crying but what was the point.
I knew my community was reeling from the violence of our captors. The beatings and the starvation level rations. Their will to resist would slowly crumble and before long they’d be begging for the scraps as Marcus and his men lorded it over us.
No, not good enough. It was going to end and since Ryan wasn’t with me, I was the one who had to act. God, I wished he were with me. He’d hold me and even without speaking I’d know that he’d protect us.
It infuriated me that everyone treated him as they did. Yes he was a killer, a murderer. But he protected them and asked for nothing in return but a place to stay, a place in the community. It seemed I was the only one who saw the real man behind the serial killer mask.
Even with the way they treated him, he’d have stepped up and brought down hell on these upstart invaders of our home. He would have recognised the threat straight away and ended it without even needing to think about it.
I needed him, why wasn’t he here? What had gone wrong out there that kept him from coming back to me? A question I couldn’t answer, at least until I had dealt with the invaders. I’d do what he wasn’t there to do and afterwards I would go and find Ryan and the others.
The question was, how would I do it? Ryan, of course, would simply move through the house and throw himself at them one after another, relentless and unstoppable. I didn’t have that ferocity, that ability to kill so effortlessly.
I’d killed zombies and even some people. Every time though I’d felt nauseated afterwards. It was worse when I killed Sarge with Ryan, I’d held it together but I’d wanted to curl up in a ball and weep. It was supposed to get easier but it didn’t. I’d kill when necessary to protect myself and others but I would never enjoy it like he did.
No doubt that would be a problem at some point in the future, when the world righted itself and order prevailed. It was the one thought that kept me awake most of every damn night, could I love him when the world returned to normal?
The thoughts were turning darker and I knew that it was a way of distancing myself from what I needed to do. The lives I would take. I could almost imagine it would be easy with that psychopath Marcus, but the others? I couldn’t say. Perhaps Harry though, that traitorous bastard, Killing him would be satisfying.
“What do we do?” Becky whispered into my ear. She was pressed up against my back and should anyone look they would just see two people taking comfort with each other in the darkness.
“There’s one by the main entrance and one on the roof,” I said. “Both of them have guns but if we take them by surprise… well, we might have a chance.”
She shifted her weight, her clothes brushing against mine almost loud in the quiet of the room. Her arm snaked around my waist and she pressed something into my hand, cool to the touch. I felt at it in the darkness and frowned.
“What is it?” I asked as my fingers probed at it. Metal definitely, thin about an inch across and shaped like a ‘V’ it was about nine inches in length with a wicked point.
“Tent peg,” she replied. “We found a load with some camping gear a while back. They were never used and left out behind the house.”
Not great I thought but perhaps it would do. A knife of some sort would be better but with a bit of force behind it, I was sure I could use it to kill the guard on the door. Once that was done, we would have his weapons. Now would come the part that Becky wouldn’t like.
“You need to distract the guard,” I said quietly.
“How am I supposed… oh no.”
“It’ll be fine, you won’t actually have to do anything. Just tell him you are willing to do whatever in exchange for some food and take him into a back room.”
“Damn,” she said. “The idea of one of those bastards touching me makes my skin crawl.”
“Well you either do that part or I will and you can kill him instead.”
“No,” she said after a moments’ thought. “I’ll leave the killing to you and your pet.”
“Go then,” I instructed.
With some grumbling beneath her breath she moved, rising to her feet and brushing herself off in the darkness. I couldn’t see her walking across the room so had to concentrate on the soft scuff of her shoes on the floorboards.
From the door came a muffled conversation, brief and to the point before I heard two sets of feet crossing the floor. One set soft and light, the other heavier. He was going with her. A door opened with a quiet click and I guessed it to be the kitchen since that was the closest.
I glanced towards the door and saw a soft light flicker into existence. The guard obviously wanted to see what he was about to do. I rose silently to my feet and gripped the tent peg firmly in a hand that was suddenly damp with sweat.
Just like with Ryan, I told myself repeatedly as I crept over the floor, thankful for the nightly games I had played with him. Because of them, I could move silently and knew every inch of the roundhouse. I didn’t need light to manoeuvre by and I had no worries about being noticed.
Ryan was a predator perfectly at home in the darkness and I’d managed to not only evade him but beat him more than once in our nightly games. The guard would have no chance.
A whimper came from the kitchen and I paused at the doorway and peered inside. The guard had Becky pushed up against the worktop with his back to me. He had one hand on her neck as he held her down and the other pulling at her jeans. Animal.
Even with her pretence of willingness he was going to be rough, going to hurt her in pursuit of his own vile pleasures.
Disgust filled me and my last wavering doubts fled before my rising determination. These people needed to be stopped before they polluted my community any more than they already had. They were monsters and I would protect me people.
With her jeans partway down her thighs he reached for his own pants with just the one hand as he kept the other firmly pressed on her neck. I used all of my strength to swing the tent peg down and into the back of his skull.
Blood sprayed across my face and he made a weird keening noise as I pulled the metal peg out and slammed it back again and again into his foul body. Fury and revulsion at what I had to do warred within me.
He slid down to the floor as I released my hold on the tent peg that was sticking out of the back of his neck. Becky squirmed away from him as she pulled at her jeans, eyes wide as she stared at me in horror.
“Grab his gun,” I said. My hands were shaking and I clenched them into fists to stop them. Keep it together.
Her mouth moved soundlessly before she swallowed hard and nodded. She picked up hi
s assault rifle and held it comfortably. It was the type used by the British army and no doubt she’d seen them held by the soldiers at the army base where she’d spent time with her brother.
I rifled through his pockets and came up with several useless bits and pieces. Nothing I could use but he did have a knife in one pocket. I pulled it out and held it in my hand as I folded out the blade.
At barely three inches in length and wickedly curved like the claw of some prehistoric beast, it would be useless for stabbing but ideal for slicing open flesh. Not much use against zombies but against the living… well, I could make it work.
“What now?” Becky asked. I glanced at her once as I thought through the options.
“Start waking people,” I instructed. “Arm them with whatever you can and keep clear of the doors to the stairs. They’re all up there and any that come down will use that door.”
“You want us to fight them?”
“I want you to be prepared to do what you need to,” I said. “We’re done with these monsters, it’s time to take back our home.”
On silent feet I swiftly crossed the living room and pulled open the door that led to the stairwell. Aware of how limited my sight was in the darkness I climbed the stairs cautiously. One step at a time, each foot placed carefully to avoid making them creak.
The bedroom doors were all closed and I pressed my ear to each in turn as I passed. There was little to be heard and I had no idea who was in which room, other than the master bedroom which would be Marcus.
I reached the ladder that led to the ceiling hatch and looked up. It was closed which was a minor problem but if I tried to open it near the guard up there then I’d be noticed and in a lot of trouble. If he called for help, I’d be trapped and helpless.
With a determined step I turned away from the ladder and went back to the stairs. With my ear pressed firmly against the rough wood of the closest door to them, I debated what to do. Climbing to the roof would be dangerous but if there were no one left alive when the guard up there called for help, it wouldn’t matter.
Burden of Survival: Killing the Dead : Season Two Page 16