Hellspawn Dominion

by Ricky Fleet

  “You’ll have me blushing,” Angela said, waving a hand to cool her face.

  “I’ll take a shot to Petermann,” Walker offered, jumping the barrels like a rabbit without spilling a drop.

  “We should all get ready,” Eldridge said, placing her glass down, “It won’t be long now.”

  The dogs were locked away and Max requested a grenade to use just in case they were overwhelmed and had to fall back to the house. It would suffice to blow out a sealed window and give the beloved pets a chance at freedom should the worst happen.

  Pouring a second shot, Max toasted, “To the best sister in the world. Don’t die or I’ll kick your ass.”

  “To the second-best sister in the world… love ya.”

  With a steely resolve, she and Max loaded their pockets with shotgun cartridges and followed the soldiers.

  “Thanks for the drink. I needed a bit of Dutch courage.” Petermann smiled, the fruity, wheat flavour still fresh on his tongue.

  “After this we’ll have a proper drink,” Max replied with a firm nod.

  “Sergeant, we’ll run between you all and pick off any little blighters who try and flank you,” Angela explained, snapping the double-barrelled shotgun closed.

  “We’re in your debt.” Holbeck nodded and lifted the radio. “Hawkeye, this is Early Bird. We’re ready for that distraction now, over.”

  “Received. Happy hunting, soldiers. Hawkeye out.”

  In the distance, the first fiery eruptions rose into the air followed by the shockwave and crack of detonation. At each mine, the troops started to yell and scream obscenities at the shambling hordes. Unable to ignore the inhuman cravings, the undead raised their arms and gurgled in excitement at the imminent meal. Strings of black drool, disturbed by the first movements in their lungs for weeks dribbled from their mouths.

  “It’s working!” Eldridge shouted down the line, seeing the lumps of timber jabbing away at the growing mass of flesh.

  Tempted by the red headed twins, a lone female zombie started to clamber up the bank. Leaning in to the recoil, Max’s gun spat its lethal shot at point blank range, blowing the head apart. Decapitated, the body rolled back down to join its shattered skull and brain matter.

  Walker and Petermann were stabbing at their growing crowd. The blunt ends of the fence posts crushed faces and skulls, but with each new zombie they were losing ground. They had to drop the extended lances and use the bats as the zombies were forced forward by the crush of bodies at their rear.

  “We’re struggling here!” Walker shouted, swinging the wood into the temple of a male zombie. Like a startled rat, the man’s filthy black toupee jumped into the air and landed on the sticky face of another. Unable to see, the monster tripped up and rolled back to the bottom of the bank, knocking down zombies like a bowling ball.

  “Did you see that?” Petermann asked, laughing nervously. It was a pointless question considering Walker had been stood by his side during the spectacle.

  “Move!” Max barked and knocked him sideways. Unloading both barrels, the zombie which had been close to grabbing him went cartwheeling off into the crowd.

  “Can you hold for another minute?” Holbeck yelled from further down, “We’re nearly at full saturation here and I want to kill as many as possible with the claymores.”

  “Do your thing!” Angela called back, then turned to the soldiers. “We’ll hold them back with the shotguns if you can watch our backs?”

  Petermann and Walker nodded, dropping the timber and picking up their rifles. The wide spread of the cartridges worked better than the rifle ammunition and as each new crop of unwary dead neared the top, the sisters would blow them to pieces. The awkward angle of the falling bodies was buying them precious seconds, and with a final wolf whistle, the four teams broke for the brick outhouse. Ducking behind the solid cover, the designated people picked up their clacker and connected the waiting wire.

  Looking at Holbeck, they nodded to each number as he counted down, “Five, four, three, two, one, now!”

  The curved mines exploded in unison, sending thousands of steel bearings into the horde. Peppered with the expertly angled shrapnel, anything within fifty feet fell dead to the floor leaking emerald blood from dozens of holes in their heads. Further out from the kill zone, the zombies were shredded, skin tearing away as they were hammered to the ground. Ricochets twanged from the brick shelter and after a further count of three, the group broke cover and raced for the compacted straw fortress. Eldridge risked a glance at the destruction before following. Small, smoking craters were all that remained of the explosives. The conical swathes cut through the masses of undead were quickly filling in with the slower arrivals.

  “Eldridge, move your ass!” screamed Holbeck and she quickly followed the others.

  Angela was poised in the idling combine, the blades spinning slowly. She was loving the action and could barely contain herself.

  “Harkiss, Eldridge, on the HMGs. Everyone else get behind the wall,” Holbeck ordered, “You too, ma’am.”

  “Hell no.” Max was resolute and reloaded her shotgun.

  Holbeck could see there was no point arguing. “Ok, we’ll cover your sister together.”

  “How long do you want me to hold back before setting out?” Angela shouted to them.

  “Don’t be a hero. You know the capabilities of the machine better than I do, so you judge how many it will take down,” Holbeck replied.

  Peering down the side of the farmhouse, he could see the wave of dead flow over the top of the banks a quarter mile away. Waving his arms, the sergeant wanted to ensure they came on in a straight line making an easy target for the machine to grind them to paste. He could feel the adrenaline building as the procession snaked forward. Angela let the airbrake off with a hiss and started forward. Putting all power to the blades, they spun in an ever-increasing blur.

  “Follow me,” Holbeck said. Raising their weapons, they quickly accompanied the grumbling machine and the priceless sibling cargo.

  Unaware of their impending doom, the metal hit the outstretched arms of the zombies. Shearing them off cleanly, the thresher swiftly dragged the rest of the body in. The effect was as spectacular as it was disgusting. A torrent of gore rose like a geyser, pulled on the upward rotation of the blade and coating the cab. Chunks of meat splashed down around their feet and they dodged as much as they could. Small groups were being minced without problem but the larger force had arrived and was fast approaching.

  “She needs to get clear!” Max called over the noise, fearing her sister would be surrounded if she made it much deeper into the horde that it was now beginning to spread out.

  “Take left, I’ve got right. Pick off any that she misses!”

  Hitting the first large group of dead precipitated a rending shriek as some unseen mechanism inside the blades sheared off, stilling the rotation instantly. Without slowing, Angela climbed out and jumped down into Holbeck’s arms.

  “That was great, you got at least fifty of them.”

  “I was hoping for more,” she said with disappointment. “The accelerator is wedged too so it should keep rolling over them.”

  The powerful machine pushed on, knocking the zombies aside or dragging them under the huge wheels. Small groups were beginning to appear from all angles of the farm, threatening to cut them off from the other soldiers.

  “I’ll cover you,” Holbeck shouted, picking off the fastest moving targets as the sisters backed away.

  “That’s pretty gross,” Angela muttered, hurrying past the trail of twitching viscera spread all over the ground.

  Chattering gunfire from the assault rifles warned of contact at the wall and Holbeck cautiously looked around the corner. A massive group had arrived from the west, taking them by surprise and they were in full battle mode. The restrictive angle on the turret was working against them and Harkiss was firing short bursts into any target that presented itself.

  “There they are!” yelled Eldridge, “Come on!
”

  Walker and Petermann were poised at the top of the eastern wall having already removed the ladder. Maxine reached them first and, after slipping the strap of her shotgun around her shoulders, they pulled her up without difficulty.

  “Now you!” Holbeck pushed Angela forward, seeing the monsters flooding around the corner of the stacked bales.

  Petermann and Walker clasped hands with her and pulled. Holbeck was kicking out at the creatures which were swiftly surrounding them, but two of the corpses managed to fasten onto the frantically kicking legs. Slinging the rifle, he withdrew his tactical knife and, like lightning, drove it into the base of each skull before the rotten teeth could find flesh. With a final, triumphant yell, the two soldiers dragged her over.

  “Sarge, step back and we’ll clear a path!” Petermann shouted.

  Holbeck was forced further away from the wall and could hear the rapid approach of those from the rear hemming him in. Shaking his head slowly, he gave his order. “I’ll try and find cover, now do what you were trained to do!”

  “Find somewhere safe and sit tight,” Walker called, tossing two magazines of ammunition, “We’ll find you.”

  Seeing the path to the barn was cut off, Holbeck was forced back towards the route they had just fled. Using his superior agility, he ducked under the reaching arms and was gone out of sight.

  It was a blow to the group, but they weren’t prone to panic; if anyone could survive it was their hard-as-nails sergeant. More detonations and shockwaves were washing over the area from the artillery strikes on the surrounding villages.

  Eldridge prayed it was working as she lifted her radio. “Hawkeye, this is Early Bird. Status report, over.”

  “This is Hawkeye. Drone imagery shows the distraction is working and some of the dead are peeling away to investigate. The main bulk of the force will be with you in under ten minutes. After that it’s just stragglers. Over.”

  “Received. Over and out.”

  “Fuck this!” Harkiss barked, slamming his fist into the turret shield.

  “What?”

  “I can’t get an angle on them. Do you want me to remove the gun?” Harkiss replied in frustration. The rest of the team were picking away at the growing crowd but the power of the HMG would be a godsend.

  “How long?”

  “Two or three minutes including getting the tripod fitted.”

  “Do it!” Eldridge was facing the same issue but her limited experience with the mounting kits made it pointless to attempt the removal. With the greater number coming from her side, it was possible to get four or five kills to every monster that Harkiss destroyed.

  Like a bursting dam the real swarm arrived, pouring around the building and slamming into the makeshift barricade. Through sheer weight of numbers, the top layer of bales near Eldridge was pushed back a few inches.

  “We need to hold them back. Walker, Dougal, stay by Harkiss, everyone else on me!” Eldridge shouted, jumping out of the turret.

  Max and Angela had miraculously replaced their double-barrelled shotguns with pump action varieties, but there was no time to ask how. The flaring barrels tore through the closest threats and the destroyed bodies fell into the throng to be mashed underfoot. At point blank range, the slugs punched clean through, blowing out the back of the skulls which embedded in those behind. As soon as one fell, two more took its place and the crushed bodies were giving each new wave extra height to get at the soldiers.

  “Remember the barracks!” Eldridge shouted, “Take out those at the back!”

  Ignoring the imploring arms which were steadily rising, they opened fire on those to the rear. Heads snapped back as the undead brains were destroyed. Harkiss had retrieved the HMG and pulled the charging handle. Adding the impressive firepower to the fight, he let off short, devastating bursts. The frantically raking claws of the front line were shredding the bales, inch by inch. Each layer peeled away like an onion, diminishing the overall weight of the barricade.

  “Shit!” Angela complained.

  “It was a good idea, but we should fall back inside the house while we can,” Eldridge ordered.

  “Only take the rifle ammo. We can pick them off through the windows,” Langham added.

  Max opened the door and pushed the agitated dogs back inside. Dougal and Langham hopped down, forming a human chain to slide the boxes through the doorway.

  “How secure are the windows?” Eldridge asked, feeling another shift in the wall.

  “Rock solid. We tied them in properly to the surrounding walls,” she confirmed.

  “Grenade!”

  Eldridge couldn’t make out who shouted the warning in time to stop them. As the small ball arced before falling at the feet of the crowd, they all ducked instinctively. The dull crump acted like a stone dropped in water, pushing the undead away like ripples and driving them against the straw which finally collapsed under the assault.

  “Get inside!” Eldridge screamed, stamping down on an arm which shot out and clutched her ankle. The bone crumbled and the floppy limb withdrew, but was instantly replaced by many more as she backpedalled furiously.

  “Get off me!” Walker shrieked.

  The crazed soldier beat wildly at the hands that were dragging him inexorably towards the snapping jaws. Petermann tried desperately to pull him back, yelling his fury. One man against a horde was an impossible fight and he was left with no choice but to let go or follow him into death. Walker’s guttural cry of agony was cut off as the undead closed over their meal and fed.

  “Quickly!” Angela shouted as the last of the defenders ducked inside.

  The steel gate was pulled shut and through the solid bars, she snapped the padlock back through the loop of the bolt. As the lower bales gave way to the creatures, Max slammed the door.

  “It’ll hold,” Angela affirmed as the first dull thuds carried through from outside.

  “Just like the fucking hay bales would?” shouted Petermann. Grief boiled over and he started to punch the wall, bloodying knuckles to vent the rage which was, he understood, unfairly aimed at the sisters.

  The three dogs encircled their mistresses and started to growl, but a few soothing words calmed the beasts before they could attack. Ceasing the barrage of blows, he slowly turned to them and the apology was written in the tear streaked face. No words were needed and they nodded in commiseration.

  Everyone was in a daze except for Eldridge who was calculating the next move. Pressing transmit, she spoke into the radio, “Hawkeye, this is Early Bird. Ceasefire. Walker is gone and Holbeck’s status is unknown. We are safe in the farmhouse and will update you when we have secured the area. Over.”

  As the last concussive waves shook the home, gradually falling into silence, their commanding officer came back. “You have my condolences, private. We knew the mission was going to be tough, but you can take heart in knowing their sacrifice was for something much bigger. Compose yourselves, remember your training and we’ll be standing by for further instruction. Over.”

  “Thank you, sir. Over and out.”

  “We’re sorry about your friends,” Max said, looking from face to face, “We got them killed.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Eldridge replied. “The bales were an excellent idea, we’ve just never seen them in a frenzy like that. Nobody could’ve foreseen they would tear through so quickly.”

  “Beth’s right. We had a river separating us on the barracks,” Harkiss added.

  Eldridge’s face darkened as the memory came back, “Who threw the fucking grenade anyway?”

  “Walker,” Petermann sighed, “He could see they were about to break through and wanted to buy us time. It turns out he was the Big Bad Wolf who blew the whole house down.”

  “Oh…”

  “It’s going to be dark soon,” Angela said to break the tension, “Let’s rustle up some food for you and we can see about getting out of here in one piece.”

  Apart from the groans of the dead, the house fell silent.

>   CHAPTER 3

  “It’s crazy to think people used to live like this,” Braiden said, staring at the decorative finish of their plush bedroom. His own was covered in mould and peeling wallpaper.

  The incessant snoring of certain, older survivors had driven them to distraction and Kurt reluctantly agreed to let them sleep away from the main group. The rule was that the door was to remain locked at all times even though it was only a forty foot walk from the Baron’s Hall.

  “Now it’s our home,” Sam replied.

  “You really kicked ass on the wall, like one of those knights you were always writing about.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without you by my side.” Sam put a hand in the air and Braiden did the same while making a clapping noise. The ‘air five’ was just easier when they were both warm and snug.

  Braiden looked over at his brother on the other four poster bed with a mixture of pride and guilt. Even though his adopted sibling bore no malice about it, the schoolyard bullying would haunt him until his dying day. What had once been an unhealthy, vindictive jealousy had grown into a fierce loyalty and love. He would spend the rest of his life repaying Sam’s, no, his, family back for their faith.

  “I woke up in the night and forgot Paige and granddad were gone,” Braiden sighed, then went back to studying the plasterwork, a lump forming in his throat.

  Sam felt the boy’s pain and tried to distract him. “I had a dream about us all having a medieval feast. Granddad was gnawing on a joint of meat and barking orders at Mr Vincent.”

  Laughing in spite of the painful memory, Braiden replied, “I don’t think he would’ve let Mr Vincent back into the castle like dad did.”

  “Maybe it would’ve been better,” Sam said cautiously, judging the response of his brother.

  “He made the right call. It would’ve ruined the atmosphere in the castle if everyone thought dad was a psycho killer.”

  Sam gawped at the hot-headed teen. “You were going to kill Winston yesterday and feed him to the zombies.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Winston was with them,” Braiden spat, his face darkening.