Deserted with the Dead (Book 3): Fearland

by Aline Riva

  “This won't last!” he said as desperation shone in his eyes and he set his sights on the horde and took aim once more.

  As Jason fired off a volley of shots three undead fell, one with a splash into the nearby water, the others reeling backwards, colliding with the snarling horde behind them to be trampled underfoot as the dead moved on beneath a sky fading from night to early morning, their eyes set on their living prey.

  Rick fired another shot, then as his gun clicked and clicked again, he looked to David who had just fired his final round.

  “I guess we can always throw the guns at them?” Rick remarked, and David cracked a smile despite their desperate situation.

  “I can't get that door open again,” he replied.

  “So we're screwed, basically.”

  “Nice knowing you, mate,” David said.

  “Likewise,” Rick told him as fear shone in his eyes.

  Then the gunfire from the others faded out as the last of the bullets were spent and the remaining dead grew closer and kept on coming, carrying with them a stench on the wind that reminded them all of how they would very soon meet their fate.

  Then as they backed up against the jammed doorway clutching useless weapons, a flurry of activity came from behind and around the horde as the remainder of the swordsmen sprang into action. They hacked and sliced their way through the gathered undead, then the first two broke free and began to run, swords looking cold and sharp as the night gave way to beckoning daybreak.

  As the swordsmen reached their destination, both raised their blades, oblivious to the sound of the other guards of Mortiz screaming and crying out as the horde rounded on them, tearing them apart with speed and strength that had been underestimated. Swords sliced though dead flesh and connected with bone, then swords fell and screams echoed about the cold first light on the beach now stained with the blood of the living as well as the undead.

  The remaining swordsmen were now locked in a battle with the living, as one went for David and another lunged at Rick, who dodged the swipe and slammed a closed metal fist into his face, making his attacker's mouth explode with blood as he crumpled to the ground. David had also deflected the swipe of a blade as Tara had reached around behind the swordsman, arm locked about his throat as she tried to keep him in a choke hold as David held him back, then as the sword clattered to the ground it was picked up swiftly.

  “Move!” Tara heard Jason say, she looked over her shoulder, eyes wide, then let go of the assailant, dropping low as the sword came slicing through the air, taking off the swordsman's head in a clean blow. David hurled the body aside as it jerked and shivered and blood spurted from the neck and the head rolled down to the place marked Deep Water, and fell in with a splash.

  Toby had picked up the sword from the first felled attacker, and as he turned to the scene of the rest of the swordsmen falling to the hands of what was left of the horde, Jason handed the other sword to David.

  “Good luck, we'll take our chances,” he said as the undead started to move again, stepping on and over the remains of the freshly killed and heading once again in their direction.

  As the others backed up against the locked door of the smashed up bar, David and Toby stood side by side, clutching the only available weapons.

  “This might be a stupid question,” David said nervously, “But does anyone here happen to have effective swordsmanship skills?”

  The others exchanged glances in silence as the only sound that could be heard came on the breeze as the rolling tide mixed with the snarls of the approaching horde.

  “I guess that's a no, then!” he exclaimed, and glanced at Toby.

  “We keep taking them out, we don't stop until they take us out and it gives everyone else a chance to make a run for it, okay?”

  Toby nodded, holding the sword in a two handed grip as he wished he knew how to properly use the damned thing.

  “Jason?” Toby offered, but Jason, standing behind him with the others, shook his head.

  “That was pure luck, taking out that guard. But I'll take your place if you want me to.”

  “If anyone should do that it should be me – I'll stand by you, David,”said Rick.

  “Not you, Rick,” David replied, readying himself for the horde to close in, “You need to live to fight another day – you've still got a score to settle with Mortiz...make sure Tara gets out.”

  “I want us all to get out!” Tara exclaimed, and he heard real fear in her voice and at that moment could not turn his head and look at her, even though he knew the horde would be on them in a matter of seconds - he knew he could take out maybe three of them with the blade as they all closed in, maybe Toby could do the same – but it wouldn't be enough, it would be the end of the line...

  As they ran from the small communications post near the entrance of the water park, it was eerily silent save for distant moans and growls of the undead coming from somewhere near the beach area. As she ran, the guard pulled back, tugging on her hand as Carrie turned around, breathless, looking at him in alarm.

  “We can't go that way! Can't you hear them? It's over run with the dead!”

  “The choppers can take them out!”

  “What choppers?”

  “From the base!”

  “What base?” he exclaimed.

  “It's out at sea – and closer than you think, it's vast!”

  He flipped up his visor then took off his helmet and cast it aside, having grown too hot wearing the battle attire in the rising warmth as morning heat began to stir in the sky above. He looked scared, but not so scared that he would turn and run if they came up against a threat. His eyes were as dark as his hair and his face was pale, he was no older than twenty five and as he looked to Carrie he made a confession as he glanced nervously about the park.

  “I lied about my last job to become a body guard for Mortiz. The world was going to hell, who checks CVs at a time like that? I wasn't a professional bodyguard – I was a store detective. But the world was getting out of control and working for Mortiz seemed like a safe plan...until I found out what a maniac he was!”

  His explanation had done enough for her to offer one of her own, as she had just sent a message from the communications area he had stood there listening but not really understanding, and now she felt a quick explanation was owed:

  “I called the Outpost. Said we're on the shore and we need rescue and possible backup... I gave my access code to prove who I was. If we can get around to the beach area and stay alive for twenty minutes, I've got a boat on the way and two choppers. Enough cover to protect us. The base is four miles out to sea, right on top of this park. If the platform is already up to send out the rescue party, you'll see the tower raised up from the water. I just hope there's enough people down there to work on the professor's theories and find real answers, Adrienne told me she had found a breakthrough...But I've never studied her work because she had to hide it - and we really don't have time for this any more. Let's get to the beach!”

  He nodded and she grabbed him by the hand as they broke into a run.

  “By the way,” he said as they turned the corner and kept running, “I'm Vince.”

  “Carrie,” she replied, and then as they headed up the beach and the bodies loomed into view they came to a sharp stop, looking on in horror at the scene before them: Scores of undead littered the path and the beach and the patio area that led to the bar, along with the bodies of fallen guards, torn apart by the starving horde. It had been quite a battle, zombies and humans had both perished here, blood ran over the path and the crimson stains on the beach looked dark as the skies began to slowly lighten up, readying for daybreak.

  The whole place stank of death – but worst of all, a group of people were backed up against the closed doors of the bar area, surrounded by the remains of the horde as they lunged and the people who were trapped began to struggle and fight back. None of them were armed, not a shot was fired as they kicked out and aimed punches and empty guns were smash
ed against the heads of the attacking horde.

  Vince raised his machine gun, took aim and fired, peppering the undead with bullets as their bodies jerked and shuddered like hellish puppets in a crazy dance on jerking strings. Decayed flesh flew about as bullets punched holes into the corpses, skulls were blown open and brain matter splattered out as one by one, the attacking dead fell.

  When the last shot had rung out and the echo faded from the beach area, the silence that followed sounded as sweet relief to the grateful living, who had survived thanks to the only man left with a loaded gun.

  As the group recognised Carrie, Jason stepped forward first and gave her a hug.

  “Thanks,” he said to the stranger who had saved them.

  Rick looked at him coldly, recognising the uniform of the guard of Mortiz.

  “How many of my people did you slaughter at the plaza?” he said in a hushed voice.

  “None,” Vince replied, “I was hired as Samuel's personal guard...one of his guards. I have only ever carried a gun in his presence. I heard about the slaughter and it sickened me. It also sickened me to learn that he slept on the floor in the basement next to the cages where he kept his undead family. The man stunk of death! I would have killed him myself if I had the opportunity! If you don't believe me it's up to you but if I had been a maniac like those bastards with the swords, would I have bothered to wipe out this horde to save your lives? Think about it.”

  “I am thinking about it,” Rick replied coldly, then he looked away up the path, as his expression darkened and rage burned in his hazel eyes as he saw the man he had waited a long time to meet:

  Mortiz had stepped out of the shadows, he looked dishevelled, his cloak was torn and his sword was absent and there was a splash of blood on his cheek. Clearly, he had run into the hostilities on the way over to join his men after the slaughter, and now as he looked to the scene of carnage, pure hatred glittered in his eyes as he approached the survivors.

  “My family and my army are dead!” he yelled, “All is lost!”

  As he walked towards them with a crazed look in his eyes, Vince raised his gun, but Rick placed his metallic hand on the weapon, lowering it.

  “I've waited for this moment for a long time,” he said in a low voice, looking to Lois and then to David as he spoke again, “This one is mine. He's mine. It's my fight, mine alone.”

  “Of course,” David replied quietly, knowing Rick would never find peace in this world until the deaths of his people at the plaza had been avenged.

  As he stepped forward, Lois caught his hand.

  “Rick – no -” she said pleadingly, but he tugged his hand from her grip and without a backwards glance walked away from the group, fixed on Mortiz as he slowly approached. He went to meet him as the grey light of dawn streaked the skies and Rick Lester finally got his wish to meet with the maniac responsible for the mall massacre. The others looked on as the two men stood facing one another, Mortiz was powerfully built and the battering he had taken fighting through the chaos had done nothing to weaken him as he looked at Rick, eyes filled with insane rage, as Rick looked back at him, gaze burning with the need for vengeance. The others watched in silence, knowing this would be a battle to the death – a fight only one man would be walking away from...

  As Rick stood there on the beach, the warm breeze ruffling his hair and blowing against his open, torn shirt, he was a tall and slender contrast to the dark and muscular man who squared up to him.

  “What is this?” Mortiz demanded, “You all wish to fight me one by one?”

  Rick's gaze drew dark and cold as he spoke the words that had been burning in his mind since the day of the slaughter:

  “The Fountain Plaza. They called me Mall King. My name is Rick Lester, I want you to remember that - because I'm here to kill you.”

  At once the darkness that glittered in the eyes of Mortiz grew deeper as he laughed darkly.

  “Ah yes, the plaza! How we enjoyed that place! Mr Lester, your people were no match for my swordsmen. After we sliced them up, we sent in the dead for a feast.”

  Rick took in a sharp breath as hatred burned in his eyes.

  “And you'll be meat for the dead by the time I'm done!” he yelled, lunging at him.

  As the two men clashed, Rick aimed a solid punch with his closed metal fist, sending Mortiz sprawling. As he landed on his back, rage took over from the shattering blow. Mortiz ran at Rick and slammed him on his back as they landed together on the beach, rolling, they traded blows, Rick's metallic hand catching sunlight at first silver, then bloodied, as he aimed punch after punch in raging fury, raining down blows to the face of his enemy.

  A counter attack was crucial, Mortiz slammed a hard fist into the side of Ricks head, launching him from his dominant position on top of him. Then Mortiz was up, kicking him viciously as Rick gave a cry of pain, doubling up and rolling over towards the water. Mortiz came towards him again, Rick realised how close he was to the barrier and the deep part of the water, and sprang back to his feet before Mortiz had a chance to try and drag him in and hold him under.

  Rick was breathless as he began to back off, heading for the barrier as his sights stayed locked on the advancing enemy. His wrist was in agony from the force of the blows he had rained down on Mortiz, and Mortiz was bleeding, his lip was split, his face was cut, his eye was swelling up from the shattering blows from Rick's metallic hand. But neither man was willing to back down as Rick faced up to him and Mortiz drew closer, marching towards him, heavy footed and ready for more.

  Over at the edge of the sand, where the others had gathered amid the chaos and carnage of the aftermath of the battle that had seen guards and undead fall, littering the sand, Lois looked on anxiously as the two men clashed again, struggling as they traded blows.

  “Help him!” she said to David, but he shook his head.

  “This is his fight,” he said to her, “We have to respect that...this is for the lives lost at the mall. It has to be this way...”

  A solid punch had sent Rick sprawling again, then Mortiz was on him, hands about his throat. Rick suddenly brought up his knee, smashing Mortiz in the groin, then as his enemy gave a yell of pain and doubled up, Rick shoved him off, staggered to his feet and aimed a solid kick into his back, then into his head.

  “Fucking bastard!” Rick yelled as his voice echoed about the beach area, “Fucking scum!”

  Mortiz rolled, was on his hands and knees as his clothing was caked in bloody sand, then he got up, breathing hard as blood streaked his face and he slowly turned back to Rick.

  “Win or lose,” Mortiz said, “I am glad I killed your people. They were worthless!”

  Blood trickled from Rick's nose as he staggered closer to Mortiz, all the pain had just been cancelled out by pure rage, the kind that made him pump full with adrenaline and the need for his enemy's blood as he fixed his gaze on him again.

  “How's your zombie family, scum?” he asked darkly, smirking as he recalled what Vince had told him, “Did they go up in flames? Best thing for stinkers. Fire is a great cleanser!” Then Rick spat blood into the sand and took another step closer to the raised concrete barrier that warned of deep water.

  Murder was in the eyes of Mortiz as he stepped over a fallen guard, then paused to snatch up a sword part buried in blood stained sand. Rick stepped back again, ducking a vicious swipe of the blade as Mortiz came at him, then he raised his metallic hand and with the clash of blade against the prosthetic, he grasped the blade of the sword with ease, tugging Mortiz towards him and then slamming him with a head butt that knocked him backwards.

  “No,” Rick yelled as more blood ran from his nose and his split lip, “No weapons! Let's see what you're made of, fucker!”

  As Rick lunged at him, Mortiz was ready, blocking a blow from his closed metallic fist as he landed a punch that sent Rick backwards into the water with a splash. He went under into deep water, salt stinging at his wounds, then Mortiz leapt in after him, sinking as Rick rose up, Mortiz c
aught him by his shirt, dragging him under as Rick held his breath, struggling to break free. He aimed a desperate punch, Mortiz blocked the blow, slamming his fist into Rick's face as his cheek opened up in a painful gash and blood clouded the water. The sharpness of the pain cleared his head as Rick started to lose air, he struggled, kicked out and then Mortiz was knocked back by the blow, he lost his grip and Rick seized his chance, pushing down on Mortiz who struggled wildly, slamming his knee into his face as he headed for the surface, then Rick came up gasping for air, reached for the barrier and dragged himself back up.

  For a brief moment weakness threatened to take over, but then Rick began to drag himself up from where he had laid on his side on the barrier, gasping for air and hoping his enemy was now battered enough to be either drowned or crawling back to the sand. But as Rick tried to get up, Mortiz grabbed the barrier then sprung up sharply with his last reserve of energy, while Rick tried to get to his feet Mortiz launched at him and the two men went crashing down on the top of the wide concrete barrier, where they struggled between the deep water pool and the open sea beyond it.

  Mortiz slammed a fist against the side of Rick's head, for a moment all fighting urge slipped away as pain and weakness took over, temporarily stunning him. Suddenly Mortiz had him by his shirt, dragging him to the edge of the barrier. He thought he heard Lois shout his name but then he gave a cry of pain as Mortiz grabbed him by the hair, raised his head and slammed it against the edge of the barrier. Pain cut sharp through his skull as he turned his head and tried to struggle as Mortiz smashed his head against the concrete edge for a second time. Then as he let go, Rick lay there, feeling nothing, hearing nothing, seeing nothing.

  The roar of the sea came back first, then the smell of the salt on the air. He looked up to see Mortiz struggling to his feet, and despite pain and weakness, thought of those at the plaza who had lost their lives, he remembered their faces and kept on remembering them as he summoned one last burst of strength, pulling himself sharply to his feet, not daring to look down as the motion of the water made him feel odd and off balance as his vision blurred and then cleared and then he caught Mortiz as he was rising, grasping him firmly by the throat and squeezing as he made a hard fist with his metallic hand.