Zombiekill

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Zombiekill Page 23

by Russ Watts


  “Rilla, that whistle and all the noise we made will have brought a lot more of the dead to this place,” said Charlie. Her head was pounding. “You know, I bet they’re piled up outside just begging to get in.”

  “I know. How are we going to get rid of them? What do we do now?” asked Rilla. “I just want this over, Charlie. I just want this to be all over. How do we get out of here with those corpses at the door?”

  “We’re not leaving,” replied Charlie. “I want the zombies to come. I want them here.”

  “Are you insane? What about Butcher? What about this place? You saw what they did to Attwood. We can’t stay here now.”

  Charlie tensed up as pain racked her body. She sucked in a breath and let it go slowly. For a moment she thought she might pass out, but she couldn’t stop now. Kyler had taught her that once you started something you finished it. She wanted to sleep, but there was still something she had to do. “Look in that knapsack will you, please? There are some painkillers.”

  Rilla found a bottle of white tablets and poured some into her hand. She took three and handed them to Charlie.

  After she had swallowed the pills, Charlie took Rilla’s hand. “When this is done I’m probably going to crash. I need to know you can handle this, Rilla. When Butcher is gone I’ll try to help you clean this place up. Those two in the rose garden and maybe that woman in the house will need dealing with. You need to put them down, you understand? The ones outside these walls won’t get in. If we can make it through tonight, then we can do it, Rilla. We can turn this place into the sanctuary that it’s supposed to be.”

  Rilla leant over to Charlie and pulled her close. Hiding in the sedan earlier she had been scared. She had been scared for herself and for Charlie, but now that they were together again she felt stronger. There was something about being with Charlie that made her feel confident. Charlie had been through the wars, and Rilla could see the tiredness etched all over her young face. Her short blonde hair was covered in blood and dirt, and the stitched holding her cheek together had come loose. There didn’t seem to be much choice but to follow through with whatever plan Charlie had and finish this. After what Butcher had done to her, Rilla wanted to do it. If Charlie believed in it, then so did she. Rilla tucked a lock of blonde hair behind Charlie’s ear and smiled. Later, when all this was over, she would have to tend to Charlie’s wounds. She was bruised and bleeding all over, and it would be a long time before she was ready to fight again. If what she said was true, then maybe they wouldn’t have to fight again. Maybe they could turn this place around. Attwood certainly had no claims on it anymore. Rilla saw no reason why they couldn’t work together and make a go of it.

  “Okay. What do I do? And don’t tell me to wait here.”

  Charlie smiled back, proud of Rilla and pleased she had come back. There was something growing between them that she hadn’t felt for anyone for a long time. Since her mother had died, Charlie had felt very alone in the world, but since Rilla had burst into her life she had found something to fight for. This wasn’t just about vengeance anymore. Their own futures were on the line, and they were inexplicably bound together now no matter what happened.

  “Follow me.”

  * * *

  Butcher stared at the video screen blankly. The road outside Attwood’s was quiet. A few zombies occasionally passed by, but from the viewpoint of the camera above the annex door, there was little to arouse his interest. He would ask Conan to keep watch for a while and go see if Rilla was ready. After eating he had been watching the monitor on his own, but the security room was far from the action and he was bored. He tapped the tip of a large knife on the wooden desk and then frowned. Was that a burning smell?

  “Verity, you cooking again?”

  Butcher left the security room and its black and white TV screens, and made his way through the house to the stairway. The burning smell grew stronger as he got closer to the front door, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs he realized the smell wasn’t coming from the kitchen but upstairs.

  “Conan? That you? What are you doing?”

  Butcher shook his head and sighed as he ascended the stairs. “Do I have to do everything myself? Jesus, they’d burn the place down if they didn’t have me to keep a watch on them.”

  Up on the second floor the smell of burning was stronger, and Butcher knew the only people up here were Rilla and his mother.

  “Christ, what are you doing in there?” Butcher angrily marched down to the bedroom. There were no fireplaces up here which only meant someone had been lazy or stupid or both. Verity liked to smoke, but she was supposed to go outside. Butcher hated the smell of it.

  “Mom, if you’re going to burn the house down with one of your fucking cigarettes, then you can—”

  As Butcher threw back the door, he was surprised to find the room empty. The bed was a mess, and there was blood on the white sheets. Grey smoke drifted lazily through the air, and Butcher noticed the ironing board at the foot of the bed had collapsed. A pair of feet stuck out by the end of the bed, motionless.

  “Shit.” Butcher dropped the knife and approached the body carefully. He knew from the sloppy clothes that it wasn’t Rilla, and while the face had been burned beyond recognition, he knew who it was. There was an iron embedded in his mother’s face, and Butcher howled. He lifted the iron off his mother’s dead body and pulled clumps of singed hair and skin with it. There would be no open casket for what was left of Verity.

  “I’m going to kill that fucking bitch.” Butcher wouldn’t cry for his mother yet. He wanted revenge. He wanted to know how Rilla had managed to get away and do this. Where were the others? Why had nobody else come?

  As Butcher ran back down the smoking corridor, he began to shout. “Conan. Tad? Get your fucking asses out here, now!”

  Back at the front door Butcher waited, but neither Tad nor Conan appeared. There was a long whistling sound as if someone was about to kick off a soccer game in the rose garden. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Butcher raced to the kitchen but found only a neatly piled stack of dishes and no Conan. “Guess it’s up to me then.” Pulling a meat cleaver out from one of the kitchen drawers, Butcher ran to the dining room. “Conan, you in here?”

  The house was silent. For the first time since taking over Attwood’s, Butcher felt unnerved. There was something off. He was angry and knew that Rilla had done something. Perhaps Conan had already found her and was teaching her a lesson. But there was something more going on that he couldn’t see or understand yet. Butcher returned to the front door and opened it slowly. When he looked outside he saw nothing unusual. It was dark, and the rain had brought the fresh smell of the garden to his nose. He heard the faint groans from Attwood. The vehicles were parked up where they had been left, so he knew that Rilla hadn’t tried to smash her way out.

  Stepping out of the house, Butcher didn’t know where to turn next. Rilla could be hiding anywhere. Conan was probably out looking for her which only left Tad. Was he still cleaning up the zombies in the annex? He could use an extra pair of eyes in his search for Rilla, and Butcher headed toward the entrance of the property.

  A groaning sound came from behind the pickup truck, and Butcher looked over his shoulder. A bulky shape emerged from the darkness.

  “Conan? Where the fuck have you been? Rilla’s killed Verity and taken off. I’m just going to get Tad now. You need to get your shit together and—”

  Butcher stopped. There was something about the way Conan moved unsteadily and the way his eyes appeared to be glazed over that made Butcher aware something had gone horribly wrong.

  “Conan?”

  The man bumped against the truck and then headed for Butcher. His stiff limbs made him walk awkwardly, and Butcher could tell he was dead. Another figure emerged from behind Conan, and Butcher saw his dead brother.

  “No.” It came out as a whisper, a denial of what he was seeing. “No,” said Butcher again, as shivers ran up and down his spine. “She ca
n’t have done all of this.”

  Butcher retreated away from the advancing zombies, unable to look anymore at the corpses of Tad and Conan as they walked toward him with their arms outstretched. His head was spinning. How had Rilla done this? Had he underestimated her? Had she been fooling him all along? He had made a mistake in letting her in He should’ve kept the door locked.

  As Butcher wheeled around he saw light coming from the annex. Somebody was in there. It had to be Rilla. There was nobody else left to operate the controls. She was trying to escape, but if she opened that front door then she would let them in. Butcher began to run toward the annex and saw that the door was open. A figure stood in the middle of the room, the single light bulb illuminating her.

  “Rilla!” Butcher saw a flash of green as she darted out of sight. It was her. As soon as he caught up with her he would gut her and let Tad eat her alive. He was going to enjoy watching her die. “Rilla, wait there. You can’t run from me.”

  Butcher charged into the annex and flung the door shut behind him. He didn’t want her slipping past him and getting away. This was going to be the end for her. There was still a crude mess of body parts in the room left over from when Tad had accidentally let the zombies in earlier. There was no sign of Rilla though. No green dress, no sight or sound that she was anywhere.

  “Rilla? Time’s up. Come out, come out, and we’ll play a game. I think it’s time you joined your parents.”

  The door clicked shut behind Butcher, and he saw the light above it turn red. Then the green lights above the panels turned red, and he heard the locking mechanism to the dogs’ kennel turn.

  “What are you playing at, Rilla? You can’t hide from me.” Butcher tried to open the panels but they were fastened shut. Had she gone into the kennel? How had she got past the dogs? And if she had, then who was operating the controls?

  A deafening whistle obliterated Butcher’s thoughts as it echoed sharply around the room. Butcher put his hands over his ears and returned to the center of the room. He looked up at the gantry where he had stood a day earlier and condemned five people to a grisly death. The dark figure removed the whistle from their mouth and stared at him.

  “Rilla? How did you get up there so fast? Open this fucking door right now.”

  Charlie stepped forward in order to let Butcher see her clearly. Slowly she removed the blue and green fishing cap from her head to expose her short blonde hair. “Remember me?”

  Butcher frowned. “You look like someone I killed. That asshole’s son? But you look... different.”

  “Close. I’m that asshole’s daughter. You saw what you wanted to see and made an assumption based on what I looked like. You made a mistake, Butcher. All you had to do was open the door and let us in. Instead you turned your back on me, on us. You could have changed the world, but instead you stuck to your stereotypes and out of date views. We weren’t a threat to you. You just assumed that everyone on the other side of the wall was a danger to you; that they couldn’t possibly help or contribute. You judged us all the same, and now it’s come back to bite you in the ass. Now you’re going to pay for your selfish, callous attitude.”

  “But... but how did you get out? How did you get over the walls? There’s no way through them, I made sure. I made sure that they were big and strong, that nothing could get through.” Butcher looked at the door to the road that led to Peterborough. The red light was on indicating it was still locked. “You can’t have gone through that way. No way.”

  The door behind Charlie opened, and then Rilla appeared. She smiled at Charlie and then looked down at Butcher.

  “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, dickhead.”

  “No trouble?” Charlie asked Rilla. She had told her how to get out of the annex through the kennel and the wire she had cut a hole through earlier. Butcher had walked right into their trap and now he was stuck like a pig.

  Rilla shook her head. “Just Tad and Conan wandering around like a pair of hillbillies who sniffed too much glue. They’re heading our way, but we can take care of them. We killed them once; we can do it again.”

  Charlie smiled weakly. The game was nearly over. She wanted to rest but she had to see it through to the end. “Cover your ears a second.”

  Rilla did as Charlie instructed and then blew on the whistle long and hard. When she was through, the two of them looked down at Butcher.

  “Jesus, what is with that? You are off the planet. You’re going to deafen us all with that shit.” Butcher rubbed his temples. The shrill blast from the whistle set his teeth on edge, and he kept picturing Verity with her face burnt away. He imagined Conan lumbering around in the darkness and Tad behind him. He couldn’t understand how it had all gone so wrong. He was angry with Rilla and himself for letting it get this far. He should’ve just killed them all when he had the chance. He waved the meat cleaver in the air. “I’m going to chop the both of you up into little pieces and feed you to my dogs.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Rilla. She despised Butcher and everything he stood for. He belonged in the darkness. She was with Charlie now and everything he had done to her could be erased. She didn’t want to dwell on it or remember the horrible things he had done. She just wanted him dead.

  Butcher pointed angrily up at the gantry. “You two cunts had better let me out of here right now, or I am going to kill you both very slowly, very painfully. You hear me?”

  Neither Rilla nor Charlie responded.

  “Do you fucking here me?” shouted Butcher, apoplectic with rage. His face had turned red, and the single light bulb above him only heightened how alone he felt. He suddenly realized how vulnerable he was and how he had left the others in the same position. He remembered what he had done to them and what fate awaited him. The dogs were on the other side of the panel, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to control them. They were used to seeing him through a wire cage, and he hadn’t exactly treated them well. He had trained them to kill, and if they came face to face with him, then he suspected that was exactly what they would do. “Let me out of here!”

  “The problem is, Butcher, you just ain’t good for nothing. I don’t think we want to let you go,” said Charlie, her hands hovering above the control panel. “I’m going to feed you to the wolves.”

  Butcher looked around the room and recalled how he had told her the same thing. He shook his head. “You’re not doing shit. You can’t do nothing to me. I’ll kill the dogs with my bare hands, and then I’m coming to get you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Charlie raised her hand above the control panel. “You think?”

  “Woah, hold on, hold on,” said Butcher. It couldn’t end like this, not here, not now. He had the cleaver, but the dogs were fast, and he was all alone. “Look, I made this place what it is. You need me. We can run this place together if that’s what you want.” Butcher decided he had to try acting contrite. It didn’t sit well with him, but if he had to beg for his life then he would. He just had to play the part right and could seek his revenge later. “The wall around this place keeps them out, you know. You don’t have to do this. All we have to do is keep them on the outside, and we stay on this side. There’s no need for all of this.” Butcher attempted a smile, hoping it would appeal to her compassionate side. “You’re safe now. You, too, Rilla. I was just angry before. I was out of my head, you know. It was Conan. He kept pushing me, and I guess I fell for it. Look, we can start over. Okay? Let’s just go back to the house together. What do you say?”

  “I say that you’re delusional,” said Rilla.

  “No wall can keep you safe forever.” Charlie took Rilla’s hand in hers. It was partly for support and partly because what they were about to do she wanted to do together. She kept talking to Butcher as she moved their hands over the control panel. “Build it as high as you fucking want, but eventually someone will find a way through. I’m proof of that. Walls can fall, you know. They divide us and provide you with a false illusion of safety that means you get complacent. You thi
nk you can hide behind these walls forever? You think you can keep them out forever? The corpses will get in one day. I got in, didn’t I? And I’m willing to bet there are more like me out there who need help, who need to find a better life; you’re not a part of that world, Butcher. People like you just want more and more to squirrel away what you’ve got just for yourself. Well, that world is over. You’re not the future, Butcher. You’re part of history now.”

  Charlie and Rilla fingers depressed a button, and Butcher heard the door unlock. The lights above the panels to the kennels remained red, as did the light above the door to the house. He turned around and saw the green light above the exit.

  “Fuck me. So you’re letting me go?” Butcher looked up at Charlie and Rilla. “After all this, you’re just letting me go?”

  “Not exactly. I said I was going to feed you to the wolves and that’s exactly what we’re doing.” Charlie looked at Rilla proudly. “We’re giving you every opportunity that you gave us.”

  Butcher watched as the exit door opened and a large, dead corpse stepped through. Butcher finally realized then what all the whistling had been about. It had been a siren for the dead. Another corpse came through the open doorway and another one behind that. Butcher saw a zombie wearing a turban, the man’s black beard covered in blood. Another zombie wore a sari that had been ripped apart to expose the hideous rotting flesh beneath. More and more came into the room, women and children, all different shapes and sizes and yet all the same; they were all dead. Butcher looked horrified as the zombies ambled toward him, pressing him back.

 

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