Plague Of The Revenants

by Chilvers, Edward

  “How did you escape?” Asked Paul.

  “There was an accident,” replied the Doctor. “One of the trucks ran into a horde of revenants and ended up in the ditch. They managed to kill all the revenants but some of the men in the truck were hurt badly by the impact of the crash. They took me out to see if I could do anything for them. When I started to treat them another horde appeared. In all the confusion I just got up and ran.”

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked him.

  “The passageway,” replied the man weakly. “I recognised it must be a new building, a defensive measure. I figured you’d all be holed up in the church.”

  “How far away is this racecourse?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry but I don’t know.”

  “I think I do,” put in Kit. “I remember we used to go there when I was a child. It was called the Hammerstone Racecourse.

  “Is it big?”

  “Pretty big,” she replied. “And it’s got high fences as well and quite a few strong buildings. I daresay you could turn it into a fortress.

  “Fifty armed men and even more slaves,” I mused. “And from the sound of things they know how to handle themselves.”

  I wanted to question the doctor further but at that moment I heard a familiar noise, one that I had not heard since that time taking the posts from the depot in the town. It was the sound of multiple moans, a cacophony of mindless despair. I quickly made my way over to the window where a terrible sight greeted my eyes. In the dim moonlight I saw at least a hundred revenants. They came through the trees, in a long line, trudging with eerily quiet determination as if they had almost reached the promised land. The others came to the window and they too were numbed to silence. From throughout the house there came gasps and shouts as the other survivors were awoken to the terrible invasion from the night. The defences were strongly built and would not give way easily although as I watched I saw revenants climbing on top of one another. The head of the pyramid put its hands to the board of the window and started to prise it away. Given time it would come loose.

  “Why are there so many of them?” Demanded Kit, her voice close to panic.

  “The doctor,” replied Hammond grimly. “He must have attracted them here during his flight.”

  I continued watching as they tested the defences around the fenced off meadow but there were quicker ways to the farmhouse than that and they soon found the path from the road that led directly towards our front door.

  “What if it was deliberate?” said Kit. “What if this doctor is actually one of the Elite and led them here to trap us?”

  “I can’t discount the possibility,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. “But if that is the case he’s put himself as much at risk as everybody else.”

  “Will they go away if we’re quiet?” Demanded Kit.

  “Unlikely,” said Hammond gravely. “They know we’re here and they’re not going to bugger off again unless we make them.”

  “But how can we?” Demanded Paul. “We haven’t got anything like enough firepower.”

  “Then we need to lead them off,” I said urgently. “We’ll never take down as many as that, neither can our defences hold out against them for more than a few hours.”

  And indeed the defences were built for delay, to withstand a few revenants, not a hundred at a time. We had no chance of resisting them if we went in for a long siege. We had to fight them somehow. There was no two ways about it.

  “There are too many of them!” Exclaimed Kit. “We should take cover until they go away.”

  “They won’t go away,” said Hammond. “And I have studied these bastards more than most this past month. When they know there’s living flesh to be had they’ll hang around, probe and won’t give up until they’ve found a way in.”

  “How will we get rid of them?” Demanded Stan, his voice close to panic. “There are too many of them, they must outnumber us ten to one!”

  “We need to draw them away from the house,” I said. “The defences here can’t stand up to so many but the stone walls of the church are a far better prospect.”

  “We’ll never get those old people down to the church,” protested Reverend Thorpe.

  “You don’t have to,” I replied. “We just need to draw them away.” I had the seeds of a plan in my head, one which even at that early stage I believed would probably fail but which I had no time to fine tune. At that moment the first of the revenants reached the walls of the farmhouse and started scratching and tearing at the boarded up windows which had previously seemed so strong but now looked so flimsy in the face of their onslaught. The revenants began to hammer at the wooden boards of the windows, started to climb on top of one another, reaching out for the unguarded higher storeys. And they just kept coming.

  “We can’t afford to lose this farmhouse,” I said urgently. “Not after all the work we’ve put into it. Not now in the middle of winter and especially not when it contains most of our supplies for the month ahead. If we retreat into the church we’ll survive tonight but are bound to starve in the next few days.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Demanded Paul and I noticed that everyone was once looking to me for guidance once more.

  I thought fast. “Get everybody upstairs and barricade the doors to the rooms as best you can,” I told Reverend Thorpe. Then I turned to Kit, Paul, Dev and Stan. “Come with me,” I said. “We’re going back to the church to see if we can’t attract those things our way.”

  “And then what?” Demanded Kit.

  “I have an idea,” I replied. “You’ll think I’m crazy but there’s no time to explain. Follow me.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Frey. Stan still had bruises and a black eye but there was no time for hard feelings now. I needed people who could run. He appeared white with fear but to my gratification he appeared more afraid of me and did not argue when I told him he was to come with us.

  We armed ourselves as best we could as Reverend Thorpe herded the other survivors up to the second floor. Gloria, Hammond, Mrs Frey and Mr and Mrs Marston remained downstairs with crowbars and iron poles to hand, ready to repel the revenants should they breach any of the defences. Hammond took charge and ordered everyone to make regular patrols around the downstairs windows of the house although for the moment the revenants were mostly concentrating their assault on the front. I looked down once more and saw a wooden board ripped from the windows. It was only a matter of time before they were through into the main part of the farmhouse, and if that happened we were facing wipeout. Reverend Thorpe began to place gates in front of the stairways although I could see this would be a morale boosting measure only. If the revenants got far enough to climb the stairs it would mean they would have overwhelmed the rest of us and Thorpe and the others would have nothing left at their disposal with which to fight them. I saw at that moment how little we had, what a false hope it had been putting up the fences and passages, for these could only be a temporary defensive measure. Unless we had real weapons, which we didn’t, we could not possibly hope to repel them.

  Now the noise was deafening and it was hard to believe the creatures were not already inside the house. All of the children were in tears. Everyone else, myself included, was shaking like a leaf. I rushed down into the third reception room which we were using as a storehouse for non-perishable goods and grabbed a coil of thick rope which we had found in a barn then ran back to join the others. “Keep as quiet as you can and don’t try to be heroes,” I told them. “Only attack them if they start to stick their heads inside. Don’t try to repair the barricades.” We hurried downstairs and I flung open the door to the passageway.

  I charged out of the front door and shone the flashlight into the tunnel at which point I stopped short. A mass of rotten, eviscerated arms was reaching in to block our path. We had underestimated their strength. The passageway would not hold, not with so many revenants subjecting it to such a sustained attack. They knew what they were doing as well, albeit in
a primitive way. They knew this tunnel led into the farmhouse which was why they paid it so much attention. They would not leave until they had what they wanted. Frey charged over to the wall and tried desperately to hold up the boards as a multitude of revenants now started to pile on top of the weak points. “Run!” he roared. We raced past him and I turned at the entrance. “Come on!” I yelled. “I need to lock this door.”

  Frey let go of the wooden board and came to follow but the board half collapsed on top of him and the falling revenant pinned him to the floor. He struggled and kicked out and I raced to help but too late. The revenant sunk its teeth on to his arm and ripped out a sizable chunk of flesh. He cried out in horror. I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away, not prepared to see him ripped apart. “Forget it,” muttered Frey. “This is my just desserts for making the place so flimsy. It’ll happen to us all eventually. Just carry on with what you have to do, Grant.”

  I all but pushed him through the church door then turned around once more and shone the flashlight back down the tunnel. The gap in the passageway was open now and the revenants were falling over one another to gain entry. I prayed Hammond would notice they were in and take steps to block off the front door accordingly. As for myself and the rest of the small party there was no way back for us now. There was nothing for it except to dash into the church and slam and bolt the door behind us.

  I half lay Frey against the wall, knowing I would have to keep a close eye on him for he was bound to turn quite soon yet at the same time not quite possessing the fortitude to finish him off there and then. I climbed up to the window and flashed the torch over the area between the church and farmhouse. The graveyard and the yard beyond leading to the farmhouse were a mass of living corpses. They were climbing over one another in a bid to reach the upper storeys of the house, bodies piling on top of bodies. Soon they would reach the first floor windows and afterwards there would be no holding them back. At least they were not surrounding the church but at the same time there was no chance of getting everyone out and over here through the infiltrated tunnel. The revenants would be bound to follow. I ran into the bell tower and started pulling hard on the ropes. I pulled at the ropes and slowly they turned in the loft. A low, somehow ominous peeling rang out that I had no doubt could be heard for miles around. It was a desperate move but at least it would draw the creatures away from the house. I went back to the main door and opened it a crack. The revenants had now infiltrated the tunnels. We were completely cut off. The revenants were now crowding around the church but some still persisted at the farmhouse and what was worse even more had now come to join them and doubtless many more would follow, roused by the peeling of the bells. I wondered then if my quick actions had doomed us all.

  “Take over,” I ordered Kit, motioning towards the bell and then to the others. “Quickly. Follow me upstairs to the top of the tower.”

  Up the steps we charged in single file, I leading all the way up to the top of the tower. I threw the hatch open and stepped out. The ringing of the bells had proved to have only limited success, for the revenants were now spread all over the area and there were so many of them it was like the aftermath of a music concert.

  “Maybe we could lead them all in here,” suggested Dev. “Then we could finish them off as we pleased?”

  “It wouldn’t work,” I said, pointing to the large windows. “They’d soon be through those and then we’d be in as worse a state as we were before.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Demanded Paul.

  I looped the rope around the flagpole and started to secure it tightly. Keep a hold if it so I don’t fall,” I said, throwing the rope over the edge of the tower on the nave side.

  “You can’t be thinking of going down there yourself!” Exclaimed Paul in horror. “We’ve already as good as lost Frey.”

  “That reminds me you need to keep an eye on him if I don’t return,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Judging from the size of his bit I’d say he has about half an hour. Try and finish the old boy off if you can, nobody wants to see him turn.”

  I did not look down but instead took a firm hold of the rope and stepped off the end of the tower. I felt the rope slipping in my hands and tightened my grip as I went down, wincing as the burn took the skin off my hands. I prayed that the flagpole would hold and that my companion’s grip would also remain strong. I slid several feet down the roof my feet desperately kicking out for a foothold for I knew well enough the fate that awaited me if I were to tumble off the side of the roof into the swarm. At last I steadied myself and looked down. There were a few revenants clamouring on the opposite end of the farmhouse. I struggled to free myself from the rope. I took the hammer and threw it off the roof, following it with the flashlight to see it land on the floor about a metre from the wall of the nave. It was wet and slippery on the roof and I came close to falling several times. I climbed on to the other side of the roof and slid down to the guttering where the revenants were less frequent. I nonetheless clambered down as best I could so that I was holding on to the guttering with just my hands. A revenant appeared, seemingly from nowhere, beneath me. I let go of the guttering and landed square on top of it where it crumpled like a stamped on can. Landing on the revenant broke my fall and a moment later I was on my feet and dashing to find the hammer in the darkness.

  The revenants ran towards me as soon as I hit the ground. I dived to the floor and fumbled in the dark, for the light was even worse than I imagined it would be. When the revenant was a metre away my hands gripped around the handle and I brought the hammer up fast, smashing into the revenant’s skull. Now I ran forwards, blindly swinging the hammer, sometimes connecting, sometimes not and rounded the corner. The revenants saw me at once and turned their attention towards me. I ducked and dived as they lumbered towards me, doubled back over my tracks and dodged them around the graveyards, attacking when I had to but knowing I had to save my energy for the trial ahead. One of the revenants dived on me and ripped my coat as I twisted out of its grip. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the keys to the truck. Meanwhile the church bells continued to chime out, which brought the revenants away from the farmhouse but right into my path. I swung my weapon as though I were preparing for the hammer throw and every now and again there would come the dull jerky thud as I connected with rotting flesh. I needed space, I needed to remain free. If I were knocked over I was dead. Each time a revenant’s face appeared from the darkness I was convinced I was doomed and braced myself for the bite. I sprinted as fast as I could towards the truck, frantically pressing the keys to open the doors. I reached the truck as another revenant assailed me from the side. I flung open the driver’s door and knocked it off its feet then leapt into the truck and slammed the door shut.

  I revved the engine, sounded the horn and flashed the lights to attract their attention. The revenants turned and immediately started to surround me. I knew I had to be quick. I thrust my foot on the accelerator and drove forward as fast as I could. The revenants came to meet me, as if embracing death. The results were instantaneous. There came a series of dull thuds and sharp jolts as the truck collided into the undead. The revenants exploded on to the bonnet like they were made solely of blood to the point where I was forced to turn on the windscreen wipers to clear the effluence from the window. I honked the horn to draw them away from the farmhouse, drove quickly into the driveway and flashed the lights before them. At least this served to relieve some of the pressure on the rest of the survivors. For the most part I was breaking their bodies as opposed to killing them outright but at least this meant they were unable to climb and threaten the farmhouse. Still, I was definitely starting to thin down their ranks. I went from one end of the graveyard to the other, knocking down the headstones as I passed, then turned the truck around and came back after them. The vehicle bumped over the already downed revenant bodies. Still the fallen revenants continued to crawl into my path. I gratefully ran them down. As I drove through them, smashing into them one by one,
the truck gradually slowed. The key was breaking away in time and getting clear of them so I might be able to turn again and regain the momentum. The windows of the truck were now smashed to pieces and now I was forced to swerve as the grasping arms attempted to reach in to claim me. Their dull, inhuman eyes were vacant but somehow at the same time hungry and hateful. I knew the truck could not last forever but I was determined to get maximum usage of it whilst there was still life left in its engines.

  Sure enough after a few minutes the engine started to labour and splutter. I thrashed my foot on the accelerator but it was no use. Parts of the bodywork were hanging off and still the revenants converged like lemmings upon it, almost as though they were seeking the final death. I was instantly surrounded; it was as though the remaining revenants had been waiting for this very moment and now they seized their chance. The windows were broken and the driver’s side door was hanging off its hinges. I had no protection at all. Now the engine spluttered tortuously to a halt. I turned the keys in the ignition but I knew it would be no use. I considered I had no chance at all but I was determined not to go down without a fight. Hopefully, I thought, I had thinned down the revenant ranks to give Kit and the others a fighting chance. The truck was thick with blood and I dared say the gears were clogged with guts as well. I could tell there would be no saving it. Every part of the bodywork was dented. I should have backed up, shouldn’t have let the truck get so damaged, should have led the revenants away instead of going in for the kill straight away. But it was too late for regrets now. I dived out of the truck and came back up with the hammer. The headlights of the truck still illuminated the scene before me. There were revenants lying all over the graveyard but many more still on their feet. The downed revenants now attempted to crawl towards me. Provided I was careful they would be no problem. I just needed to skirt around and prevent their jaws from ensnaring me in the undead mantrap. It was no use. There were still too many. I had run down many but grossly underestimated the numbers, and there must be at least fifty more coming straight towards me. I hurried back towards the church but a multitude of arms reached out from the ground. If I had time I could probably finish them all one by one but with so many still attacking my way was all but cut off. I swung my hammer into the floor to finish off a couple of those lying broken on the ground then attempted to retreat, leaping over the bodies on the ground. Hands reached out. One of them knocked me clean off my feet. I scrambled quickly to my feet and swung the hammer blindly, shattering arms but missing the crucial kill in the head. I was trapped. I tried to hammer a path through but the revenants were coming too fast. I stopped where I was and fought with a walking revenant as it approached, missing it head with the first hit and merely knocking it over with the second. The creature was crawling to its feet before I was finally able to end its suffering. The battle won but a close run thing and so many more revenants making for me. I jumped and skipped away, trying to beat a path to the church. I hammered frantically at the ground, searching for heads and teeth, but the flailing hands of the crawlers blocked my swing and often I was forced to grapple. On one occasion I almost abandoned my hammer completely as a revenant advanced behind me but at the last moment I was able to snatch it away and swing the hammer back round to catch the revenant in a one hit kill. It was no use. In the meantime the remaining revenants were surrounding me. I knew I could not fight them all off, knew I was bound to be pulled down by the crawlers in the end. I was a dead man. The bells still chimed above me. I wished they would give it a rest. I looked towards the tunnel and saw revenants crawling in and out. There was to be no sanctuary there either. At least the farmhouse appeared to have held. I tried to make my way back to the truck so I might at least try and seek shelter there, even if it were just through climbing on top of the roof. It was no use. The revenants were already all over it. Every one of my escape routes was now blocked off. I raised my head and roared up towards the tower but my voice was carried away over the groans of the revenants. There was nothing to be done. I wondered whether I had done enough. We could still not contend with fifty revenants and to make matters worse the remaining survivors could not even make for the church. I wondered how long Reverend Thorpe and the others could survive, wondered whether Kit and those still in the church would be able to work something out.