On Her Majesty's Behalf
Page 29
Burke had vague recollections of being dragged half drowned out of the waters of the Thames, of being loaded aboard some kind of metal contraption that stank of sweat and oil and dead flesh. He’d been shackled to a bulkhead and left alone for what felt like days, his wounds slowly bleeding and his thirst growing worse by the hour. Finally, when he thought he couldn’t take any more, they’d come for him, dragging him out into the sunlight and feeding him some kind of cold porridge and a hunk of stale bread. He’d recognized his captors then as the squad that had been hunting them in the ruins of London, though he didn’t see his former sergeant among them. He wondered if it had been Charlie who had broken his fall into the river.
After a brief rest, he’d been loaded aboard a train with half a dozen other prisoners and the journey had continued. They had traveled for a day, maybe more, before coming to a halt at their present location.
Burke found himself standing in a clearing. At his back was a pine forest, the trees tall and foreboding in the moonlight. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and the air was crisp and cold. Far too cold for the ragged remains of his uniform in which he was dressed.
What appeared to be a walled town of some sort filled the clearing ahead of them. Portable lights had been erected, running off a steam generator that could be heard but not seen. The lights all shone on the thick metal wall that surrounded the town and rose to a height of about twenty feet. Barbed wire surrounded the walls at the top.
Guards in German uniforms milled about, some watching the prisoners but most keeping their attention on the structure in front of them.
Almost as if they were afraid of what might come out if those gates opened.
Not if, Burke thought. When.
A German officer stepped out of a squad car parked nearby and tossed a cigarette away into the darkness. Pulling on his gloves and raising the collar of his coat against the cold, he walked along the line of prisoners, looking them over. He stopped in front of a hardy-looking fellow a few men before Burke, looking him over carefully.
The prisoner stared back defiantly.
“Oh, yes,” said the officer. “He’ll do.”
Guards came over, grabbed him about the arms, and hustled over to the gate guarding the entrance into the structure. A whistle was blown, and the gates were pulled open with the help of large winches on either side.
Must be heavy, Burke thought, making note of it for later just in case he needed the information for his escape.
There was no way he was staying here, that was for sure.
As soon as the gates were opened wide enough, the man the German soldiers had taken out of line was forced through the opening and the gates were closed behind him.
The guards turned away and resumed what they were doing.
The screams didn’t start for a moment or two. Once they did, however, they spiraled upward and outward, enveloping the newcomers in their deathly embrace.
Another moment passed, and then two.
The screams abruptly stopped.
Into the sudden silence, the officer spoke up.
“My name is Berhard Emmerich; I am the warden here. The facility you see before you, my facility, is officially identified as Stalag 91, but most of us here have a simpler name for it. The Hunting Ground. You will see why in just a few moments.”
Burke hated the man’s smug exterior the minute he laid eyes on him. Emmerich just oozed fake sincerity.
“There is only one rule here at Stalag 91.”
The man paused for dramatic effect.
“Survive.”
One by one the prisoners were led toward the gate and forced inside. Most times, the screams were cut mercilessly short. Other times, they went on for long unbearable minutes. One of the men in line tried to make a run for it, only to be shot down before he’d taken half a dozen steps toward the trees behind them.
Burke watched as one of the men tried to fight his captors when they came for him. They beat him unconscious, dragged him through the snow, and threw him through the gate anyway.
There were no screams that time.
Burke waited, biding his time, saving his strength. He knew there was no way he could escape out here, but maybe, once inside, another situation might present itself. He passed the moments memorizing the warden’s features, determined to be able to identify him in the future no matter what the circumstance.
He made a vow then and there; he was going to kill Warden Emmerich.
When it was his turn, the guards came with their batons raised as if expecting resistance, but he went along with them docilely enough and only got a jab in the back a time or two for his trouble.
They stopped in front of the gates and waited for them to open.
When they had, the guards stepped forward, intending to force him inside the opening like they’d had to do with all the others.
But there was no need.
As soon as the gates were open sufficiently, Burke stepped between them without hesitation.
He had every intention of meeting this threat, whatever it was, the same way he did everything else.
Head-on.
Behind him, the gates slammed shut with a clang.
Praise for Joseph Nassise and
By the Blood of Heroes: The Great Undead War—Book I
“Relentless pacing, nonstop action, and improbable but nifty-sounding military gadgetry . . . power an unremittingly entertaining story line that [will have] . . . broad appeal for history buffs, horror aficionados, and fans of steampunk.”
—Publishers Weekly
“By the Blood of Heroes is a genre-twisting madhouse of horror, Steampunk SF and zombie madness that is too damn much fun to miss! Buckle up . . . this is a wild ride!”
—JONATHAN MABERRY, New York Times bestseller of Rot & Ruin and Flesh & Bone
“Urban fantasy and sf author Nassise raises the alternate history genre to brilliant new heights. This is a treat for zombie and horror fans, military fiction aficionados, history buffs, and steampunk lovers alike, all of whom will be clamoring for the next installment.”
—Library Journal
“Joseph Nassise’s By the Blood of Heroes is that rarest of books, a genuine game-changer. This book . . . is a vital leap forward for the zombie genre. . . . I would argue [that] Joseph Nassise [is] the most important thing to happen to zombies since Max Brooks, and that’s no hyperbole. He’s really that good. . . . Madman Burke and his crew are about to take you to Hell and back.”
—JOE MCKINNEY, author of Dead City and Flesh Eaters
“The pacing is fierce and as unrelenting as the undead themselves and Nassise is firing on full-auto—a tour-de-force of adrenaline-drenched mayhem. . . . Don’t miss it!”
—JOE MERZ, author of Shadow Warrior and the Lawson Vampire series
About the Author
JOSEPH NASSISE is the author of more than twenty novels, including the internationally bestselling Templar Chronicles series, the Jeremiah Hunt series, and several books in the Rogue Angel action/adventure series from Gold Eagle. He’s a former president of the Horror Writers Association, the world’s largest organization of professional horror writers, and a multiple Bram Stoker Award and International Horror Guild Award nominee.
Visit him on the web at www.josephnassise.com or Facebook at www.facebook.com/JosephNassise
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
ALSO BY JOSEPH NASSISE
THE GREAT UNDEAD WAR
By the Blood of Heroes
THE JEREMIAH HUNT CHRONICLE
Eyes to See
King of the Dead
Watcher of the Dark
THE TEMPLAR CHRONICLES
The Heretic
A Scream of Angels
A Tear in the Sky
Judgment Day
Credits
Cover design by Richard L. Aquan. Cover illustration by Larry Rostant.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Harper Voyager and design is a trademark of HCP LLC.
ON HER MAJESTY’S BEHALF. Copyright © 2014 by Joseph Nassise. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Nassise, Joseph.
On her majesty’s behalf / Joseph Nassise. —First edition.
pages cm — (The great undead war ; book 2)
ISBN 978-0-06-204878-3 (paperback)
1. World War, 1914–1918—Fiction. 2. World War, 1914–1918—England—London—Fiction. 3. Great Britain—Kings and rulers—Fiction. 4. Zombies—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3614.A785O54 2014
813'.6—dc23
2014007994
EPUB Edition December 2014 ISBN 9780062048806
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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