The Shores Of The Dead: Omnibus Edition
Page 32
“Shit!” Ken said to himself before keying the mic, “Put her on Eaglet Three, over.”
There was nothing for a few seconds and then a tired female voice that he recognized from school was on the radio. “Ken, its Candace,” she said, and then he heard a harsh cough before she continued. “Ken they’re coming, I got away but they tortured us and I think I was the only one left alive.” He heard sobs ad then she resumed talking, “There are thousands of them Ken and the leader…Ken he’s the fucking devil.”
Ken was stunned, Candace Troutman had been one year behind him at Hession High and he’d had a real big crush on her. She was popular and smart and he’d been a geek in thick glasses. He’d actually been thinking of asking her out recently.
“Candace, are you ok? Over.”
“Uh Ken, I don’t think that she wants to talk anymore. Over,” Eaglet Three said.
“Ok, send her back into town. I’m calling this in, over.” He took a deep breath and switched channels before keying the mic. “Hession Command this is Mother Bird, over.”
The response was quick. “This is Hession Command, what’s the situation Lieutenant? Over,” the voice of Estelle Landry herself asked.
“Ma’am, they are coming.” He said and before he could say “over” he saw dozens of headlights in the distance and heard the moans of the Dead.
2
Outside of Hession, Michigan
October 31, 2012 AD (Day Fourteen)
12:45am EST
The bed of the giant sized flatbed truck had been turned into a mobile throne for Rudolph Clarke the First Speaker of God. The sigils of his master were painted in crimson on the doors and the hood of the truck. It’d been professionally done before they had left Lansing by a skilled artist who would have done anything to save his own skin.
Such as giving his youngest daughter as a gift to his new master Rudy thought as he stroked the nine year old girl’s head. She was chained to the base of the throne and wore nothing but a thong and a dog collar. She shivered at his touch despite the heat being pumped out by the electric heaters and the custom acrylic shell that enclosed the bed.
“Little one this is going to be a glorious day,” He said to the girl as he smiled. “These people we are going to see, they need to be shown the love of the One True God.” He’d always loved spreading the word of the Lord when he was a priest, now he had the joy of spreading his faith and the joy of partaking in the pleasures of the flesh.
He was surrounded by other vehicles. The entire Army of God was marching north. They had to find the slut whore and kill her or his master would be forever threatened, and if his master was forever threatened then he was forever threatened. At first he’d been in a hurry to find her and do what he’d been ordered to do. But as they advanced he’d grown his number of human followers.
There were two who’d taken the Great Mark, the General of his Army and his First Minister. There were also over a 100 who’d taken the lesser mark and filled key positions in his growing nation. That was what they were becoming, a nation. But after that, there were almost 2,000 more people who’d joined them. When this was over, he needed to find someplace to settle and build a capital for his empire…someplace warm.
The radio crackled, “My Lord Clarke, they appear to have been expecting us. Our scouts report that the town is surrounded by a wall, and there appear to be soldiers, or at the very least a civilian militia waiting for us.” General Baker was always so calm, and Rudy found that a refreshing trait in a world where everyone always seemed to be screaming and generally making a spectacle of themselves.
“My dear General, why don’t I have a few words with them? Then we can send in the cannon fodder, or whatever you have in mind.” He thought that it was good policy to allow the General to do his job without second guessing. After all, he was a man of God not of the sword.
“Yes, My Lord.” The General said, and then he must have given some orders because the truck pulled up to the front of the convoy to allow Rudy to use the loudspeakers mounted on it. The system cracked as he turned it on, then he cleared his throat and began to speak in that calm and rolling voice that made him so popular in the seminary.
“Good people of Hession. My name is Rudolph Clarke and I am the First Speaker of the One True God. I could easily have my minions roll over your town and allow them to devour all who stand in their way, but I have decided to be generous. I will give you 10 minutes to decide whether you will join us, or if you will oppose us. All that join us will be provided with food, shelter, and protection from the Dead in return for your service and obedience. If you oppose us…well you will end up serving me in a very different way. Your time starts now!”
He turned off the loudspeaker and started the stopwatch. It was, after all, important to keep your word.
3
The Compound Walls
October 31, 2012 AD (Day Fourteen)
1:00am EST
Estelle Landry looked through the field glasses and shuddered. She, and everyone else gathered here above the town, knew they had no chance of stopping the forces arrayed against them. They had less than 200 effective fighters and there were tens of thousands of the Risen Dead down there, and God alone knew how many of the living that had sold their souls.
“What are we going to do Estelle?” Father Willis Jordan asked her in his rich resonating voice.
She lowered the field glasses that her daddy brought back from Europe after World War II and looked at the old priest. His aged and cracked dark skin, the white hair always cropped short and neat, and the golden wire rimmed spectacles that he’d worn since they went to school together as children. She and Willy grew up together, and part of her thought wistfully sometimes that if they’d grown up now instead of then, they could have been together openly. She lost her virginity to him the night before he left to join the Marines and then was sent on to Vietnam. Even though he came back and entered the priesthood, she still loved him best in the entire world.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly, turning back to scene in front of her and shuddering. “I don’t think we are going to be able to hold the town, and if we just scatter they are going to hunt us down one at a time.”
“I have an idea,” Father Willis said.
She turned back and looked right at him, there were tears pooling in his eyes that she knew would remain unshed in her presence. The first and last time he’d cried in front of her had been on that hot summer night in the long ago past. “What is it Willy?” She asked, using the childhood version of his name.
“We need to get as many people out as possible, right?” He asked and when she jerked out a quick nod he continued. “We have a core of people stay here and hold them off, draw them in if you will, and while they are fighting…and dying…the others scatter.” He may have been a priest, but he’d been a Marine first. He knew that to ensure the survival of many, some would have to be sacrificed.
She said nothing for a full 30 seconds and then she spoke. When she did her voice had gone cool and detached. “You go down there and organize the citizens into escape groups, I’ll get the fighters together and we will do our best.”
“Estelle, don’t you think…” he began but she cut him off.
“I am not leaving. This has been my home for my entire life. If it’s going to die, then I am going to die with it.” Then she softened and she reached out and brushed his cheek. “Get them North Father, join up with the Wolverines.”
Willy brushed the bare back of her hand with his fingers and then the separated without another word. There were things that had to be done and very little time to do them.
Everyone could smell death in the air.
4
The Army of God
1:10am EST
The stop watch vibrated. Rudy let it go for another 30 seconds as the girl between his legs finished her business.
“UNGHH!” he cried out and then roughly pushed her away. “Go clean yourself up,” he said as a dismissal and
unhooked her leash from his throne. He couldn’t stand to be near them after they’d become dirty.
“General!” He called and Adam Baker climbed into the small throne room.
“Yes, my Lord,” he said standing at a parade rest.
“Their time is up, General, are you ready?” He knew that Baker was. Baker may have become a cold bastard after taking the mark, but he was an efficient one as well.
“Yes, my Lord,” he said again. Rudy knew that he was just waiting for the command.
“Then proceed General, bring that town down to its knees. Then set it to burn!” Rudy was aware that the imminent destruction of the town and its inhabitants made him rock hard again. He wondered if any of the other girls or boys were close by.
“Yes, my Lord,” the General said for a third time. Then he lifted a radio to his mouth and said one word, “Now.”
5
Between the Army of God and the Hession Compound
1:15am EST
Ken watched the shambling wall of rotted humanity begin to shamble and stumble toward him. Fear lanced through his body and he thought for a moment that he was going to be sick.
This was far from his first time fighting the Dead. He’d been part of the first group of volunteers that cleared Hession of the initial outbreak. The first person that he had put down was his father. The man had been bitten before anyone realized what was happening. It was plain luck that Ken hit him on the head with the shovel when his dad sat back up after dying.
“All Eaglets this is Mother Bird, let’s fall back to the Nest, over.” He said into his radio. Then he jumped down from the tree without waiting to hear the responses. If they obeyed they would live for a while longer. If they disobeyed, they were on their own. That was a hard thing but Kenneth Alan Michener knew that it was a harder world than ever now.
He and the other Spotters of his platoon fell back into the town proper just as they were beginning to close the main gates and reinforce them. He needed to find Mrs. Landry, he knew there was no way they could hold off the horde heading for them, but he had no intention of surrendering to the madman out there. He was scared but he was not petrified. He knew they would fight till the last man.
He saw Estelle talking to some of the other town fighters in front of the closed Sunoco station. He hustled over to her. It took him a moment to realize that every Spotter that saw him flocked to his side and followed him. By the time he reached Mrs. Landry, there were more than 30 of them with him.
The Spotters were all teenagers. He was the oldest, and the only one commissioned in The Compound’s defense forces. He knew they respected him, but he’d never realized just how much. Before the dead rose, they had all been his classmates. Most of them had not even been aware of who he was, let alone would have accepted his leadership.
“Mrs. Landry,” he said, stopping and coming to something that approached attention. “Where do you need us?” he asked.
She looked at them, now more than 40 of the total 52 Spotters, all of them minus the ones that never came back. “The council thought I was crazy for giving you guns and sending you out there on the second day, but look at you now.” There was pride in her voice and they all stood straighter, even Candace whose body was extremely bruised and sore.
“Ma’am?” Ken asked quietly.
She seemed to snap back to reality, “I know that if we put you on the line, you would all equate yourselves with honor.” She sounded like their teacher again, for one last time. “The town militia is going to hold them off while everyone else tries to escape north.” None of them responded, they thought something like this was going to happen. They needed to know where to set up to fight. “I want you to go with Father Jordan, he and a dozen volunteers are taking all of the orphans out.” So many children had been orphaned and taken in by the compound, that they had been forced to establish an orphanage until they could be adopted or fostered out. “They will need warriors to protect them on the road, and I can’t think of any better qualified.” That final statement forestalled any arguments.
They all heard the snapping and crackling of rifle fire from the positions on the wall. The battle had started and they all knew it could only end one way.
It would end in blood.
6
On the Ramparts
1:25am EST
Estelle took her place on the firing line with the rest of the ones who’d decided to stay behind. She was no novice with a weapon, and as she settled in she began popping skulls. The Dead were relentless on their march across the open expanse of cornfield. Gun shots rang out at regular intervals and the Dead dropped by the hundreds, but for every one that dropped a hundred more took its place. They knew they were just buying time for the others to get away.
A man settled down next to Estelle, and she saw that it was Jim Lee. He had an ancient Garand M-1 rifle which he settled on the berm and began to fire. She smiled, Jim may not have been the love of her life, but they had spent some good times together. She was glad, if this was going to be her end then at least she wouldn’t be alone.
They dropped wave after wave of the Dead, and as they did the smell of burnt cordite and rotten flesh hung heavier and heavier in the cold air. At first the fire from the defenders was steady and constant up and down the line, but gradually one after another of the shooters ran out of ammunition. 15 minutes after the fighting began only a handful were still plugging away.
The misshapen and demonic mob began to ascend the dirt mounds.
“Machetes!” Jim Lee called out to the defenders. Fully half were still in place, and Estelle didn’t really blame those that were trying to escape. Their hack and slash blades drawn, they waited for the undulating and moaning mass to crest the top of the ramparts.
There was an unearthly stillness.
“I love you Estelle,” Jim said without looking at her. Then before she could respond he charged down the hill. He screamed a guttural war cry in his native Chinese then hacked his way into the mass. He dropped dead after dead until he was finally brought down by superior numbers. He was still swinging as he died.
Tears ran down her face and she swept her head from side to side. She prayed that they’d bought enough time for everyone to escape. “Charge!” She yelled. Then a 100 men and woman attacked the Dead with nothing more than naked blades and courage.
The first that she faced was a woman who’d not been dead long. Estelle buried the blade in her skull then wrenched it free as she fell. She hacked at one after another, losing herself in a blur of combat. All around her, the people she had stood with fell to the teeth and the weight of the Dead, but she kept advancing. Soon she realized she was alone and the Dead were not attacking her, they were in fact allowing her to hack at them.
She stopped and looked around, panting hot steamy breath in and out.
“My my, that sure was fun, wasn’t it Estelle?” An almost angelic male voice asked her.
She whirled to her side and pointed the tip of her dripping blade at a tall muscular man with flowing blond hair. He was dressed all in black. There was a crimson mark on his forehead that glowed in the darkness.
“How do you know who I am?” She demanded in the same voice that made children freeze in fear for decades.
“God told me.” He said and then threw his head back laughing. When he stopped laughing, he nodded to one of his living soldiers and said, “Take her.”
The young man moved toward her, and she whirled around and slashed him across the arm with her blade. She’d fenced in college and still knew how to handle a blade against a living foe.
“This thing is covered with their gunk asshole.” She said motioning to a small pile of smashed Dead. “You’re going to be one of them soon.”
The young man looked at his master terrified.
The man in black only said, “You will serve me either way.” He then drew a pistol from inside his trench coat and shot the boy in the heart. He then turned on Estelle, who still had her blade raised.
&
nbsp; “Where is she going Estelle?” He asked, as casually as if he were asking for the time of day.