Beyond These Walls (Book 2): National Service

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Beyond These Walls (Book 2): National Service Page 3

by Robertson, Michael


  As Spike lowered the wheelbarrow and drew his broadsword, he did it to the collective ring of steel.

  The diseased responded with a hellish cry.

  Bleach pulled his sword back as if preparing to swing it. “We have to be ready in case any of them break through. Make sure you hold your ground and let them come to you.”

  Just one hand holding his sword, Spike kissed his skull ring before gripping on with the other. He looked at Matilda again. The steel in her eyes matched that of the blade in her hand.

  No gate to hold the diseased back, Spike focused on the protectors, who formed a line across the widest gap in the wall. They faced the tall swaying grass. While Hugh stood beside him, whimpering, a slight shake ran through his legs. A definitive crack behind them spoke of the gates being bolted. The repeated failures in training flooded back. He had to keep his head. He squeezed his grip even tighter and pulled in a deep breath. It did nothing to ease his tense stomach and pounding heart. Whatever happened, he couldn’t afford to fail.

  Chapter 4

  His attention on the seven protectors ahead of them, Spike’s legs weakened and his head spun. But he didn’t need to worry; nothing would get past them. What had happened in training didn’t matter, only how he reacted now. The hole had changed him for the better.

  In an attempt to copy his hero, Spike twisted his feet into the trampled grass and gripped his weapon with both hands. Magma held onto Jezebel like he could shatter stone with her. Many of the cadets on either side of him also looked ready, Matilda as set as anyone. Were it not for Artan making her opt out, she’d win the trials hands down. Ranger stood close to her, a spitting image of his dad. A low centre of gravity, he held coiled power in his thick mass. Although, unlike his dad, Ranger looked far from ready for this. The torment from the hole sat in his dark wince.

  At that moment, Ranger looked at Spike as if he could hear his thoughts. Spike flinched, the boy’s glare coinciding with the next diseased’s scream as if he were somehow linked to them. He then gasped to watch Ranger drop his weapon, turn his back on the protectors, and sprint with all he had towards the gate.

  “What the—?” Olga said.

  A look at the other rookies showed Spike they watched Ranger like he had. They even continued to stare at him when another scream lit up the air.

  As if encouraged by Ranger, Hugh stepped back a pace, Heidi and Liz moving with him. Bleach shot them a stern glare and spoke in a low growl. “Hold your place.”

  Hugh trembled, tears running down his cheeks. He whined and shook his head, but he obeyed their leader. Both Heidi’s and Elizabeth’s eyes had the same glaze of fear. At least Spike wasn’t the only one afraid. He should be nervous. They all should.

  All the orders so far had come from Bleach, so Spike jumped at Juggernaut’s deep bark. “Eyes front! We’ll deal with deserters when this is over. For now, you need to be ready to fight.”

  Hugh again. “I’m not built for this.”

  Despite her own struggles, Elizabeth said, “None of us are, sweetie.”

  Although Spike kept his eyes forward, he felt Hugh visibly relax next to him.

  The screams from the long grass grew louder. Suddenly, Warrior broke away from the other protectors.

  Although Spike lost sight of him to the long grass and the erected parts of the wall, he tracked Warrior’s course through the thuds, cracks, and screams.

  A diseased then ran at Hulk. Naked from the waist up, it had once been an overweight woman. Saggy breasts hung down like the protectors’ sacks.

  A brute of a man, Hulk stood about six feet six inches tall. A sword in each hand, he moved with a grace befitting someone half his size. A flick of his wrist and he speared the diseased through the centre of its face. The creature’s legs folded beneath it and it went down.

  The next diseased appeared. Although fast, Magma moved quicker, cracking it with the broadside of his axe. Its legs flew up in the air and it landed on its back, out cold. Instead of killing it, Magma pressed his foot against its neck, keeping it pinned. He pushed down with a grimace as if to grind the thing into the mud before he raised his axe again and split the beast’s skull.

  Six more diseased tore around the corner, the one at the front missing an arm. It hurtled at the protectors, face first, its gait twisted forwards due to its absent appendage.

  The protectors dispatched them with minimal effort.

  Several more of the wretched things appeared. One of them got too close to Hulk, who abandoned his grace and punched the thing out cold before Axle finished it off. It almost made Spike smile. But on the other side of the gates, mirth didn’t come easily. Also, what would he have done in that situation? If a diseased got that close to him, he wouldn’t have the strength to knock it unconscious. But he’d be okay. He’d have to be.

  Although Bleach had told his team to hold their ground, Hugh, Elizabeth, and Heidi had stepped back another pace. Above the screams of the diseased, Spike heard Ranger banging against the gates and pleading to be let back in.

  While everyone watched the protectors in the full flow of battle, one of the pallid beasts burst through one of the smaller gaps in the wall. What used to be a bear of a man, the disease had withered its mighty frame. Several cadets screamed, and Spike’s blood turned cold. He’d faced diseased before, but not like this. Not ones with teeth. Not ones this large. There were no second chances now.

  But it didn’t head for team Minotaur; the creature ran straight for the yellow tracksuits of Phoenix. Maybe the colour attracted it. Spike’s heart sank; Team Dragon was next to Phoenix. But Matilda looked ready.

  Spike moved forward a step, and Bleach’s arm shot across him. “Hold your ground. Phoenix need to deal with this. We don’t need any heroes out here. Heroes get themselves—”

  At that moment, Freddie Mac—the most capable of all team Phoenix’s cadets—raised his broadsword, let out a scream to match that of the creature’s, and charged the thing.

  It happened so fast, Spike almost lost track of it. The creature dodged Freddie’s clumsy swing before crashing into him. It knocked them both to the ground, Freddie losing his broadsword as they fell. It took for Gauze to yell, “Hold your ground,” before Spike saw Ya Supreme rush to his friend’s aid.

  Spike checked Matilda. His muscles twitched with the need to be beside her. Bleach raised his arm higher as if he could read his mind. One of the few cadets not screaming, Matilda would cope.

  Freddie Mac had been taken down just a few feet from team Phoenix. Ya descended on them. The beast bit Freddie’s throat, a bloody chunk falling from its mouth as it jumped up and charged.

  A moment of hesitation snapped through Ya, his legs betraying him as they buckled and almost gave out. The difference between life and death. The diseased didn’t hesitate. It took Ya down like it had Freddie. Ya’s defence proved as ineffective, the creature’s attack as deadly.

  Gauze—red-faced—turned to the remaining four members of his team. He had to shout to be heard over the now crying cadets. “Hold your position. We need to face them as a unit.” He spun back around in time for Freddie to reanimate. A dark red hole in the centre of his throat, his eyes leaked blood like crimson wax. He charged Phoenix.

  Despite his wounds, Freddie moved fast, catching up to the diseased so they both hit Gauze at the same time. Although the team leader killed Freddie, the original diseased bit into Gauze like it had the other two. The protectors were closing in on Phoenix at a charge.

  But even Warrior—driven by his bloodlust and running faster than the others—couldn’t get there in time. Gauze reanimated quicker than Freddie had, he and the tall diseased making light work of Flight Stingray, Elysium Cooch, Annabelle Jones, and Marie Strength. Bricks spilled from the wheelbarrows, the buckets of water turned over. The inexperienced cadets stood no chance.

  Spike moved forward a step, and Bleach restrained him again. He glared at his leader before looking at Matilda. The chaos was too close to her.

  �
��This is your team,” Bleach said. “The protectors have got this.”

  Team Dragon stood ready, tears running down the cheeks of the more fearful members. Unlike Phoenix, they held their ground, Tank keeping them in formation so they could defend as one.

  Warrior caught up to Ya and yelled a war cry, raising his hammer as the cadet twitched on the ground. He ended him with a crunch before he could get to his feet. Without breaking stride, the hammer-wielding protector smashed the diseased that had started it all with the upswing of his weapon.

  The other protectors caught up, and they went to work on the twitching and reanimating team Phoenix. It pulled the fight away from Dragon. The threat got extinguished with a cacophony of cracks and squelches.

  While the protectors took all the diseased down and double-checked they were dead, many of the cadets around them sobbed, some of them wailing at the savage loss of an entire team. Like many others, Spike stood with his jaw open as he watched on.

  “It all happened so fast,” Hugh said, his eyes lacking focus as he stared into the middle distance.

  Bleach snapped at the boy. “It does. It’s why you need to listen to orders.”

  Hugh physically shrank from the berating.

  Magma—panting from the effort of what he’d just been through—looked at the gates and watched his son for a moment. They opened, a guard’s arm reaching out to pull the boy in. A wince broke his stern glare as he watched the gates close. Tears stood in his eyes. Spike couldn’t tell if they came from rage or regret, and when he shouted, his shaking voice still offered no further insight. “This is no place for heroes. We’ve just lost a team because two idiots didn’t follow orders. You kids have a lot to learn if you want to make it past the first month.”

  Bleach raised an eyebrow at Spike. But Spike wouldn’t apologise for wanting to keep Matilda safe. He’d try again and with more force if he really had to. He’d also found out he had it in him. Unlike Ranger, he wanted to attack. He’d get through this—whatever it took.

  Magma led the protectors away, Jezebel over his shoulder as he walked in the direction of the ruined city.

  While looking at the team leaders on either side of him, Bleach blew out, his cheeks bulging. After nodding at them, he addressed the cadets. “Now let this be a lesson to you. We need to get to work on this wall. Someone pick up the bricks and tools team Phoenix have dropped. Dragon, take their bodies to the fire pits in the long grass.” He then led the march towards the wall, the teams on either side of them breaking off to work on their own sections.

  “We’re screwed,” Hugh said.

  But Spike didn’t agree. The wind had been taken from his lungs to see the massacre, but that wouldn’t happen to him. He wouldn’t let it happen to Matilda either—regardless of their orders.

  Chapter 5

  The tips of Spike’s fingers and his palms buzzed with the hundreds of small cuts that had opened up on them. He breathed through the pain as he stacked another brick in the wall. Beside him, Hugh mixed clay, dried grass, and water into a thick paste.

  The mixture burned Spike’s hands almost as much as the rough bricks and rocks, stinging the wounds already there. But he did his job, picking up another handful and packing it into the spaces, as well as spreading a new layer to bed down the next row of the wall.

  Because Spike had his focus on building, he crouched with his back to the long grass and ruined city, placing his trust in the others to protect him. The gates to get back into Edin felt miles away should they need to run.

  Another hard gust of wind knocked Spike forward onto his knees. After a life shielded by the wall, exposure to the elements would take some getting used to.

  The rest of Spike’s team had their own jobs. Olga dug a hole, keeping Hugh supplied with clay. The holes also served as the next batch of graves for Edin’s citizens. Max, Heidi, and Elizabeth stood guard, watching the long grass for signs of the diseased. Bleach hovered between the two groups.

  While looking at his hands, Spike opened and closed them before calling to Bleach, “It’s gotta be time to switch now, surely?”

  From what Spike knew of his team leader, he’d expected him to talk more. Being their first day outside the walls, he thought he’d offer more encouragement and guidance. And maybe he would have, but since Phoenix had fallen that morning, none of them had much to say. Although, Bleach did nod in response, signalling they should swap around.

  Spike groaned through the aches of getting to his feet, a sharp pain at the base of his back. Despite the glares from Max, Heidi, and Elizabeth, he knew them for what they were and didn’t take it personally. Building the wall sucked.

  With Bleach on his right, Hugh and Olga on his left, Spike drew his sword and looked over the tall grass at the ruined city about a mile away. The lay of the land blocked everything other than the tallest structures and one hill. It stood out as a prominent feature, the top of it littered with sprawling dereliction. “I can’t believe how tired I feel after just one day,” he said.

  Although Spike looked at Bleach, Olga replied to him, “You should try digging holes for as long as I did.”

  Hugh replied this time, “It looked like hard work.”

  The conversation died and Spike continued to look out over the meadow at the devastated city. He filled his lungs, the rich damp aroma of grass riding the strong wind. Even though they were a crumbling mess, a lot of the buildings were still taller than any in Edin. The city spread wider than he’d first thought, and he had no idea how far back it went. “Bleach?”

  His team leader looked at him.

  “Have you ever been in those ruins?”

  The wind didn’t discriminate, tossing Bleach’s thick brown hair as he squinted into the distance. For a moment, Spike thought he’d remain mute, but instead he shook his head. “No.”

  Olga snorted a laugh. “Good chat.”

  Before anyone else could comment, the shriek of diseased burst from the meadow. Spike’s pulse quickened and he lowered his stance. His attention fixed on the grass, he saw Bleach in his peripheral vision show a hand to those working on the wall. “Stay there and let us deal with it. Your job is to build. We’ll shout if we need you.”

  The end of Hugh’s sword shook as he held it out in front of him. Olga looked ready, her confidence unwavering.

  Another cry and the sound of rushing grass told Spike they were close, but he couldn’t yet see where they were in the swaying meadow. Then he caught it. Just a few feet from where they stood, something disturbed the natural rhythm.

  Two diseased appeared a second later, and Bleach shouted, “Hold your ground! Let them come to you!”

  Spike fought against his weakening grip and pulled his sword back. He stared at the beast closest to him. In his peripheral vision, he saw Bleach step aside to let them deal with it. His throat dry, his pulse rapid, he yelled and swung his sword.

  The weight of Spike’s weapon drove it through the creature’s skull, shearing a slice of its head off and exposing its brain, but the beast kept coming.

  Its legs now bandy, Spike jumped aside and watched it fall, face first, against the ground. Before it got up again, he pulled back and kicked its head, his foot burying into the wet mush of the thing’s brain. The moist squelch and the toe of his boot sinking to the laces turned his stomach, but it stilled the creature. He looked to see Olga take down the second one with a kick before she drove the tip of her blade through its face. When she’d finished—panting from the effort—she lifted her head. Only then did Spike notice the other cadets—at least the ones he could see—were all watching, many of them pale-faced and open-mouthed. Including Hugh.

  “Hugh!” Bleach said.

  The boy turned to their team leader.

  “See that patch in the long grass?”

  After looking where Bleach pointed, Hugh nodded.

  “Take the bodies and dump them there. They’ll get burned later.”

  An argument rose and died on Hugh’s features before he sheat
hed his sword, grabbed the collars of both diseased, and dragged them to where he’d been instructed to go. The two beasts were once women, so they were lighter and easier to move than some might have been.

  After Hugh had disappeared into the grass, Spike said, “So what’s the story about it?”

  Both Bleach and Olga looked at him.

  “The city. Who used to live there? Where are they now?”

  “The old world’s gone, William. What it used to be is neither here nor there. What matters is now. And right now, you need to keep your mouth shut and your eyes peeled for more diseased. They normally only come in ones and twos, so we should be fine, but we don’t want anyone else dying today if we can avoid it.”

  The cuts on Spike’s hands stung more than before, his palms sweaty against the grip of his sword. He wiped them on his trouser leg, the coarse fabric intensifying the buzzing burn. If anything, he’d just rubbed the clay and sweat in deeper. Then he saw something, and from Olga’s gasp beside him, she must have seen it too.

  Before Spike could tell him, Bleach said, “The protectors are back. Sometimes we go in before them, but never after.” A louder voice, he called to Max, Elizabeth, and Heidi, “Time to pack the tools up; we’re done for the day.”

  Although Heidi didn’t speak, Spike noticed her face relax as she stepped from the large hole. Digging a grave in such a tenuous situation carried a grim weight.

  Hugh exited the long grass as the line of protectors drew closer. All seven of them had returned as one. That would be Spike one day. Then he wouldn’t need to ask Bleach about the ruined city. Maybe he’d also learn a bit about the place. The sprawling mess had a rich story to tell.

  Spike joined Olga and Hugh in helping the others with their tools. Where he’d wheeled the barrow out, Hugh wheeled it back. Spike took the empty water bucket.

 

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