Prey for the Dead [Book 3]

by C. A. Earl

  ‘These should do’ said Matt, handing them over just as there was a sharp knock at the door. As the soldier turned to open it, Ben pulled his brother close and whispered in his ear:

  ‘Follow my lead. Trust me. They’re killing us.’

  ‘What-‘

  Ben snatched the trainers and turned away just as the soldier took a tray of food from someone outside. Closing the door again, the soldier crossed the floor and placed the tray on the desk. Matt and Ben’s split-second head to head had clearly gone unnoticed by him but not by Heather, who was now eyeing both siblings suspiciously. Most disconcerting to her was Matt’s expression, which was one of absolute shock.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked, receiving a silent, nodded response from the younger Reilly.

  ‘So, what have we got there?’ asked Ben, sitting down on the bench to put the trainers on. He was keen to divert the attention away from his brother and fortunately it seemed to work; the soldier had returned to his place by the main door and was showing no more interest than before.

  ‘Uh, some cheese and ham. A bit of bread. Some juice’ mumbled Heather. ‘It’s all yours, we’ve eaten already. Help yourself.’

  Ben stood up and approached the desk, looking at the contents of the tray. Next to the small square of cheese was exactly what he was hoping for. A sharp knife.

  This was a glaring security error. Maybe this invading force weren’t quite as superior - or as flawless - as they presented themselves. Here was an opportunity that could not be spurned, no matter how it made Ben feel. Gulping, he picked up the knife.

  ‘You sure you’re okay?’ Heather asked Matt again, noting that a little colour had drained from his face.

  Matt held his hand to his brow and sank slowly to the bench. ‘I do feel a bit woozy’ he said, using the opportunity to draw other eyes away from Ben. Mistaking his anxiety for sickness, Heather moved in for a closer look.

  The soldier’s masked face tilted toward them and that was all it took. The attack came from his blind side, as Ben whirled around and jammed the blade into the only vulnerable place he could see, up through the soft leather collar below the man’s jaw. Hands waving wildly, the soldier dropped to one knee as Ben thrust the knife in deeper and twisted the handle.

  Heather jumped up from the bench with a scream on her lips. Matt immediately grabbed her, clamping a hand over her mouth and pulling her back, using all his strength to hold her. ‘Stop fighting me!’ he pleaded, trying to ignore the bony elbows painfully jabbing into his ribs.

  All of a sudden she went limp, at exactly the same time that the soldier’s lifeless body slipped to the floor. Ben staggered back against the wall, needing it to stay upright while desperately fighting to regain his breath. His panicked eyes fell on Heather.

  ‘Oh my God. Is she-‘

  ‘She fainted’ said Matt, slowly releasing his grip and wriggling out from underneath the woman. Climbing to his feet, he noticed that a pool of blood was already growing around the fallen soldier. ‘Fucking hell, brother. You really need to talk to me.’

  Ben nodded frantically, shuddering at the dead body. ‘I had to do it, Matt. I had to. They’re killing everyone...’

  Matt approached with his palms held aloft, not sure of what to expect. ‘Talk to me’ he said calmly. ‘Tell me what’s going on..?’

  ‘I will. I will.’ Ben’s eyes suddenly widened, as if someone had pressed a button to activate a memory deep in his mind. ‘But first’ he said nervously, ‘I’ve got a message for you. Paige says Hi.’

  ‘So we just keep waiting, is that it?’ growled Dave Tattersall. ‘For what?’

  ‘Something’ Paige replied, continuing to stare through the fence at the outside of the building. ‘If Ben’s found his brother then something’s gotta happen soon. We’ll know soon enough, and then it’ll be our turn.’

  The petite young woman exhaled and bit the nail of her index finger just at the moment that the grass rustled behind her. Her heart jumped before she realised that it was Sam Rickard, crawling up the slope with an excited look on his face.

  ‘Paige!’ he gasped.

  ‘Bloody hell, Sam’ she said, clutching her chest.

  ‘Ash’s here. He’s back!’

  ‘Already? That’s great. Dave, can you keep an eye out while I speak to him?’

  The skinhead nodded and Paige immediately began to shimmy back down the slope, turning and climbing to her feet when the ground levelled out. Loping ahead of her, Sam Rickard looked back over his shoulder.

  ‘He’s not alone, either. You’ll see.’

  What is he talking about? thought Paige. Of course he won’t be alone. There were at least another four or five people that had promised to join them once their partners or children were safely delivered to the mansion.

  Ten seconds later, reaching the line of the trees and dipping under the leafy canopy, she knew exactly what he meant.

  ~ 14 ~

  Heather Mackie awoke with a sharp gasp. Disoriented, she pitched forward, heading for the floor until strong arms caught her and pulled her back onto the bench.

  ‘It’s okay, Heather. I’ve got you.’

  The woman spun around at the familiar voice of Matt Reilly. Still a little groggy, she turned away from him and looked toward the door. Ben was in front of it on his hands and knees, using a towel to wipe the floor. The thick towel was drenched with crimson.

  ‘Oh my God’ she sobbed, cupping a hand over her mouth. ‘Where-‘

  ‘The body’s in the shower’ whispered Matt. ‘We had to...uh...make sure he didn’t come back...’

  ‘Oh my God-‘

  ‘Listen, Heather’ said Matt, more forcefully now. ‘You have to listen to me. Ben has told me everything. The set up here - it’s all lies. All of it. They’re using the buses to take people away and murder them.’

  Heather tried to speak but her voice caught in her throat. She glared at the brothers in turn, searching their faces for any trace of deception.

  ‘It’s true’ said Ben, standing up to toss the blood-soaked towel into a corner of the room. ‘We think their plan was to get as many survivors together in one place as possible, then split them up again and-‘

  ‘Why? Why would they-‘

  ‘I don’t know, maybe divide and conquer? Think about it. They make you feel safe, take away any weapons you have and then ship you off in small groups that are easier to take care of. They haven’t got the numbers of soldiers here to do it in one go; the risk would be too great. But now we know, Heather. Now we know.’

  ‘Wh-who...who are they?’

  Matt shifted in his seat and leaned forward to rub her shoulder. ‘We don’t know yet. But it must have been them that dropped the bombs and them that infected all those dead people out there. We think this is the last part of the plan - to finish us all off...’

  Heather put a hand to her mouth, stifling the urge to vomit. She swallowed and took a deep breath before wiping her eyes and glancing back over at Ben.

  ‘I know you don’t want to believe it’ he said, ‘but it’s true. I’ve seen it. You know Ashley Layton, the Scottish guy who was here? He managed to escape and found my group on the outside. That’s how we know...’

  Heather put her head into her hands and exhaled. Her breath juddered with fear as she looked up again, struggling to find suitable words.

  ‘Sawyer...told us that there were compounds like this all over the country. He even called them ‘safe zones’. If they’re all doing the same thing, if they’re all killing people like this - my God - I can’t even think about it. If what you’re saying is true’ she said, her voice quaking, ‘then there’s no hope for any of us.’

  ‘Don’t give up yet’ muttered Ben. ‘We stopped the last bus and saved all the people on it. A few of them are waiting on the outside and Ash should be bringing some more plus whatever weapons he can get. They’re just waiting for some kind of sign from us - but we’ve gotta be patient and do this right.’

  ‘Right’ echoed Mat
t, reaching down and picking up the soldier’s rifle from beside the bench. Standing up, he leaned over and handed it to Ben. ‘You know how to use one of these?’

  Ben nodded. ‘I’ve been learning.’

  Clearly terrified, Heather suddenly stood up and moved across the room. Facing away from the others, she put her hands down on the surface of the desk and slowly hung her head. The Reillys could see that she was barely holding it together.

  ‘Leave the next bit to me’ said Matt, looking away from her and back to his brother. ‘I have to get the word to as many people as possible before those bastards figure out what’s going on.’

  ‘What about us?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Stay here for now. If things don’t work out then be ready to use that gun. In fact, be ready to use it anyway.’

  Moving toward the door, Matt took a deep breath and turned the handle, opening it a crack. Peering through the gap, he closed it a moment later and looked back over his shoulder at his brother. ‘It’s clear’ he gasped.

  ‘Hold on’ said Heather, turning around while brushing the tears from her eyes. ‘Just hold on a second.’

  The men paused as she went behind the desk and began rifling through a large cardboard box on the floor. Finding what she was after, she stood up and handed Matt a black hoodie and a baseball cap.

  ‘Good idea’ he said, slipping the hoodie over his grey T-shirt and putting the cap on, angling the peak down to cover his eyes. Ben looked at him sadly.

  ‘Maybe I should come with you.’

  ‘No. I’m pretty sure Sawyer told that guard to keep us in here. If they ID you then it’s all over. Stay here and look after Heather. Anyway, I need to do this, Ben.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Matt bit his lip, stifling another surge of emotion. ‘I know you think I’m a tosser, and you’re right. The way I treated Sandra was just...well, y’know, terrible. Anyway - it’s too late to put that right, but at least I can try and do something to help now...’

  ‘Jesus, Matt...’

  Matt Reilly sniffed and patted his brother on the arm. ‘Don’t make a big deal out of this, bro. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Heather crossed the floor and planted a nervous kiss on his cheek. He gave a wry smile and reached for the door handle again. ‘Here goes nothing’ he whispered.

  Matt Reilly’s heart was thumping as he closed the door behind him. Sawyer’s decision to station just one guard was a stroke of luck that Matt hoped would be the first of many. Moving quickly along the hallway, he rejoined the wider corridor that led to the options of the cafe, the main exit and various other storage rooms.

  A dozen or so people were wandering back in from outside, the hot topic on everyone’s lips clearly being Ben’s recent arrival. Two soldiers stationed by the front door and a third midway along the corridor were listening to the muttered conversations as the people passed by. Keeping his head low, Matt blended in alongside the others and then moved quickly to the front, turning right to descend a small flight of stairs ahead of them. His destination was the sports hall and the largest gathering of potential allies.

  Matt pushed through the double doors and entered the large hall. Two soldiers were positioned against the wall on either side and he used a fake cough to legislate covering his mouth, hiding his features as he passed them. Before they could give him any more attention the others appeared behind him, their excited chatter considerably more distracting.

  Matt scanned the packed hall for a suitable candidate. The polished floor had been marked with gridded squares of white tape within which were padded mats, sleeping bags and piles of clothes as well as a large number of people. Some were lying in their makeshift beds while others were either getting dressed or had wandered over to their ‘neighbour’s’ square for the morning chat. The myriad of conversations created a loud murmur, punctuated here and there by other sounds. Somewhere in one of the far corners a child was crying and on the opposite side of the room two men were debating the whereabouts of a missing toothbrush. Normally annoyed by such noise pollution, this cacophony of sounds would give Matt the platform in which to work.

  This was perfect.

  With his head still slightly bowed, he entered the grid and walked past the first few lines of people. On his left, a former domestic goddess was neatly folding items of clothing while the seventeen year old lad on his right was still fast asleep and probably would be for at least another hour.

  Assessing the numbers around him, Matt guessed that there were probably around a hundred people in the hall at that moment. That meant that there were still a few people getting some air outside and a few more having breakfast. The toilets would be packed as usual and there were of course the privileged few that had been given store rooms and changing rooms to bed down; places reserved in the main for women with young children.

  One thing that each sleeping area had in common was the presence of a soldier or two covering each exit. In this sports hall there was only one visible exit, manned by the two soldiers that he had just passed. Matt’s plan was crude but simple. Enlist help - take the guards out – acquire their weapons and move on to the next area. There would be a reduced number of soldiers to take care of thanks to Ben’s Orpington ruse, but these men were still armed and highly trained. Maintaining the element of surprise would be absolutely crucial.

  Deep in thought, Matt suddenly found himself kneeling down in his own square of the grid. The adjacent square, once occupied by the elfin Paige Ryder, had recently been taken up by a considerably less ‘easy on the eye’ twenty-two stone slob called Kenny (known as ‘Fat Kenny’ by everyone else). He was the main reason why Matt had become loath to spend much time back in the hall; Kenny’s buzz-saw snoring and continuous farting weren’t exactly conducive to moments of quiet contemplation.

  ‘Morning’ said Matt as the middle-aged man rolled over, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. Almost immediately he rolled back again, dragging a large thin sheet with him. He was snoring heavily less than five seconds later.

  Matt looked around cautiously and slipped his hand under the padded rubber mat that had served as his bed since his arrival. Finding what he was after, he covered the object with his hand and slipped it into the arm of his sweatshirt, using the elasticated sleeve to hold it in place. Sawyer had requested early on that all weapons were handed in – for safety reasons, he had said. Now Matt was extra thankful that he had retained his trusty knife and hoped that a few more people had done the same.

  Looking up, he peered through the lines of people, picking up on a familiar square-jawed face three rows away. It was Ray Beckwith, the ex-boxer that he had seen earlier at breakfast. The muscular man was talking to someone else that Matt knew; a skinny former postman called Billy Kane.

  That’s it, thought Matt.

  Those two.

  They would do to start with.

  Matt was just a few feet away when Ray noticed his approach, recognising him only at the last moment. Ray’s quizzical expression said it all.

  ‘Hey, I heard they found your brother. What-‘

  ‘Shhh’ whispered Matt, immediately getting the attention of both men. ‘You need to listen to me.’

  Now less than half a mile away, the mass of groaning zombies continued to work their way along the desolate main road leading to the town centre. Shop buildings, partially demolished, leaned in on either side as the festering procession moved between them in a stumbling pursuit of the grumbling engines that had gone before. As it was, the creatures would pass by and miss the large number of people hidden away in the leisure centre just a few streets away.

  That is, unless something diverted their attention.

  ~ 15 ~

  Matt Reilly wandered back to his area of the grid and only looked up when he got there. Peering from under the peak of his cap, he scanned from one end of the bustling hall to the other. His eyes again found Ray Beckwith, this time talking to another lone man, someone whose name Matt couldn’t quite rem
ember. Ray’s hand was on the man’s shoulder as he recounted every piece of information that had been given to him.

  A quick glance twenty feet away to his right told Matt that Billy Kane was doing the same; spreading the word to as many trusted people as possible. That’s Phase 1 in action, he thought, nonchalantly looking toward the soldiers by the doors. They continued to stand like motionless suits of armour, their masks and goggles revealing nothing. Fucking bastards he thought, still recalling the day when he had questioned Sawyer about their strange uniforms and surly manner. Sawyer’s answer then had been straight to the point:

  ‘They are professional soldiers specially trained to deal with extreme terror situations. They are elite, not rank and file. They are not nursemaids. Don’t expect small talk.’

  With the blade still tucked in his sleeve, Matt vowed then and there to make Sawyer suffer in the worst way possible. Kneeling down, he undid and retied the laces of each trainer and glanced over at Fat Kenny. The man was still snoring loud enough to wake the dead despite managing to avoid rousing himself. He probably slept through the bloody bombs thought Matt, more than a little jealous.

  ‘It’s done’ came a voice from behind him, that of the stocky Ray Beckwith. Matt turned and rose slowly to his feet as Billy Kane appeared seconds later.

  ‘I’ve got about about a dozen on board’ chirped Billy.

  ‘Okay’ whispered Matt. ‘We need to do this as quickly and as quietly as possible. We need some kind of-’

  ‘Diversion?’ chimed Billy. ‘Already thought of that.’

  On cue, a woman’s voice suddenly rose above the noise of the hall. Everyone turned as a large lady, leading two small children by the hand, began to waddle along the centre of the grid.