by Ricky Fleet
Movement caught his attention as he made to leave. Stumbling from the darkness came the farmer, replete with plaid shirt and dungarees. Pushing past him were two young girls, no older than eight. Their bodies were horribly torn, but the brown pigtails swung from their heads, blue bows fluttering in the wind. Having no interest in breeding, he still felt a small twinge of regret that the man had been unable to protect his family. Jesus Christ, I’m going soft, he thought. Debbie’s appearance had been like pouring oil into the dry engine of his heart, and it scared him. For a man who had strived for emotional solitude his whole life, this new predilection for attachment was troubling. Maybe it would be better if she had perished in the explosion, then the decision would have been taken out of his hands. He could have gone back to the uncomplicated existence of violence and rape.
The twins, for that was what they were now that he could see them up close, moved faster than their obese father. A heavy toe punt snapped the first girl’s head back, lifting her from the floor and sending her sprawling. Her sister was destroyed with the point of his blade piercing through the top of her skull. Laying her gently to the ground, Hombre quickly dispatched the other girl before she could regain her feet and laid them side by side.
“Come on, daddy,” Hombre hissed, swinging a heavy kick at the man’s closest leg.
The knee shattered, dropping the creature at the feet of his dead children. Dodging out of reach of the flailing arms, he darted forward and hacked at the upturned face, cleaving it in two. In the aftermath of the assault, the only sounds were from birds chirruping in the branches and the wind sighing through the leaves. Sipping from the water bottle, he gave some thought to collecting a blanket and covering the bodies properly.
“You really are turning into a little bitch, aren’t you?”
Turning his back on the slain corpses, he forced himself to stride away. The forest lay before him at the edge of the farm, dark and foreboding. From within came the rustle of disturbed vegetation, the snap of twigs as something heavy moved in the shadows. Figuring that after a few minutes his night vision would combine with the stray beams of light breaking through the almost impenetrable canopy of evergreen branches, he pushed on. The gloom swallowed him whole.
CHAPTER 25
Sarah draped her leg over Kurt’s knee and snuggled into the warmth of his chest. The locked door of the Earl’s suite ensured their privacy, until something urgent came up anyway. It had been so long since they last had an opportunity to be alone. The intimacy would come again in time, Christina told her. The trauma and stresses of the past few weeks had taken a toll on her husband and it was only to be expected that his libido would suffer from all the horror. Sarah was desperate to make love, but would patiently nurse his mental health until he felt ready again. It was partly the need to be physically close to him, yet also a way to say fuck you to whatever forces had killed the world.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Kurt whispered, shame reddening his face.
“It doesn’t matter, love. I’m just glad to steal a few hours with you.”
“Bob would happily take my place,” he tried to joke.
“Bob would get a swift kick in the nuts if he ever tried,” she replied.
“Did you ever think we’d get the chance to just lay in a bed and relax again?”
“Yes,” she said, sincerely. “If anyone could get us to safety, it was you.”
“And Dad.”
“John too,” she whispered, taking his hand. “You two are so alike.”
“Bollocks. He was a stubborn old bugger,” he said, affectionately.
“And you’re not?”
“Maybe a little bit. I’m better looking though.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. He had the whole silver fox, brooding older man thing going on. It was quite hot.”
“Gloria thought so,” he said, sadly.
“I think she saw something deeper than the looks. She saw his true soul and loved him for it. “
“It’s such a shame they’ll never get to see what could’ve happened given the chance.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Falling silent, they stared up at the intricately plastered ceiling, following the swirling patterns. Feeling the creeping chill, Sarah pulled the duvet up to her chin. Kurt pushed it back and stood up, buck naked.
“What’re you doing? Get back into bed.”
“I’m going to stoke the fire and put some more logs on.”
“Save the wood, I’ll keep you warm,” she purred.
“In a minute, love, I like the fire. It reminds me of when we were all tucked up in our old house.”
Kneeling at the hearth, he picked up the iron poker and prodded. Topping the glowing embers with fresh logs, he watched as the flames blossomed back to life. Tendrils of yellow and orange licked eagerly at the dry fuel.
“I can still remember Braiden feeding Paige,” Sarah said, kneeling beside him and wrapping the duvet around his shoulders.
“I remember that,” he smiled. “And when she finally came back to us. She scared the life out of Braiden when she stroked his hair.”
Sarah chuckled and pulled him close. “I know they’re up there watching over us.”
“I try and picture it that way. It makes it a bit easier, you know?”
“Of course.”
Their faces started to burn from the radiated heat, so Sarah led them back to bed. It was impossible to miss the flex of his taut muscles and she felt a tingle of desire flood through her body. You’ll have to take care of yourself later. This is for Kurt. A whine came from under the door, putting paid to the romance even if he had been capable. It was followed by an insistent scratching and excited panting.
“I’ll get it,” Sarah offered.
Turning the key and pressing the handle, Honey was pushing her nose through the gap to get inside. Licking Sarah’s outstretched hand to say thanks, she ran into the room. Looking between the fire and the bed, the canine conundrum of warmth or strokes paralysed her. Kurt patted the sheets and her mind was made up. Bounding across the rug, she leaped and landed on the duvet. The cover slid across the bed and took the poor dog with it before Kurt could catch her. Falling to the floor, she quickly regained her feet, shook herself and tried again.
“Are you ok?”
“Silly girl,” Sarah cooed, scratching behind her ears.
Rolling onto her back, she pawed at them until they rubbed her exposed belly. Catching her in the tickle spot, her hind leg kicked furiously. Moving into a better position to take advantage of the attention, her back legs spread apart.
“What a hussy. I wonder where she gets that from?” Kurt teased.
Sarah slapped his arm. “I’m a lady, I’ll have you know!”
“Lady of the night maybe.”
“You cheeky bastard!” she snapped, tickling him around the ribs.
“No!” Kurt choked through fits of laughter. “Get off!”
Unimpressed, Honey snorted and jumped down from the silly people and curled up by the fire. Her look of doggy indignation caused them to both burst into hysterics. Deciding they were crazy, she yawned and closed her eyes.
“We even bore the dog. I guess we’re not cool anymore.”
“I’m still cool,” Kurt said, feeling insulted.
“You haven’t been cool since you started to grow your beard.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a hint?”
“If you want me to shave,” she replied, pushing his hand between her legs. “I want you to shave. It’s only fair.”
“How can I argue with that logic?”
“You can’t,” she grinned. “Now shut up and cuddle me.”
Pulling her close, they turned on their side and watched the dog enjoy the fire. It was a good lesson in life, but Kurt was certain he had heard the phrase somewhere before.
“Enjoy the little things,” he whispered into Sarah’s ear.
“I don’t have much choice, babe,” she teased, giving his genitals a
playful squeeze.
CHAPTER 26
Kicking at the dried patches of blood on the wood, Craig waited patiently while the prisoners gathered below. Fond memories flashed through his mind of the pain inflicted on the platform, the pleading and begging of his pathetic victims as he flayed them. Seeing the Fowler brothers emerge from the corner of block D, he smiled inwardly. It would not be long before they were shrieking their torment on the board, his knife severing through countless nerves as their skin peeled away. A shudder of pleasure passed through him and Matt caught it.
“You ok, boss?”
“Yeah, just someone walking over my grave.”
“Lot of that going on lately,” Matt replied drily.
Most of the prison had arrived, with only a few trickling out in dribs and drabs from whatever work duty they had been pulled from. Annoyed mumbles carried across the crowd at being summoned out into the freezing cold. Mouths blew into cupped hands to ward off the encroaching chill. Staring down, the crowd fell silent.
“I expect you wonder why I’ve called you together on this glorious winter’s day. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you any longer than necessary. Times are changing and we have to make some sacrifices if we’re going to survive in the long term.”
He waited through the brief surge of questions the crowd posed to each other until they returned their attention.
“First things first. The gauntlet is closing its doors for the foreseeable future…”
Protesting voices interrupted, arguing about the loss of the only entertainment on offer.
Matt stepped forward and bellowed, “Shut your fucking mouths or you’ll answer to me!”
“Thank you, Matt. The second order of business is the suspension of the rape night roster,” Craig shouted. As the men screamed their frustration, Craig burst out laughing and held up his hands.
“I’m only joking about the second thing,” he called, face setting in a sneer. “But the next man to whine will be peeled here and now. Do you fucking hear me?”
Eyes looked away as he regarded the cowed men. The Fowler brothers had folded their arms, leaning back against the grey stone, unimpressed.
“The continuing losses from the gauntlet are leaving the tunnel teams short staffed which means if it continues, you’ll all be digging in the dark. I’m assuming you’ll happily forego the show to ensure you avoid back breaking labour?”
Nobody disagreed.
“I thought so. Now, I’m not a tyrant, so I’ve come up with an alternative that I think you’ll all like. I have a team out there right now securing an industrial generator which will be brought back and hooked up to the power supply of certain parts of the prison. Minimal lighting will be provided through the night, and on top of that you will all be able to use your TVs, consoles and DVD players for several hours a day.”
The earlier complaints turned to fresh excitement. Games, movies and porn would assuage some of the boredom in ways a weekly show could not. Cheers echoed within the walls until he held up his hands again.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page. The raiding parties have brought back a massive selection of material to borrow which will also be tracked carefully by Bennie Baverstock when everything is up and running. The reason this change is so important brings us onto the main business at hand. My brother and I have formulated a plan to safely reach the spoils of Wick town, including the food in the superstores and supplies of their industrial park. The tunnel team are going to dig towards the southern bridge and from there we’ll be building a fortification around the entrance and exit. To this end, I need to know of anyone with building experience; labourers, bricklayers, metal workers. If you leave your names with Harry at the end, we can work out shifts.”
The men looked at each other, worry evident in their eyes.
“It isn’t as difficult as it sounds. We’ve worked out a way to ensure no one is in danger which I’ll explain later.”
“Do we have enough supplies to build anything, boss?” called out a face in the crowd.
“Not yet, but the rail yard has a huge amount of bricks, sand, cement and all the good things we’ll need.”
“Is that wise after the last attempt?” asked another, bravely. It was a legitimate question following the debacle, so Craig ignored the temptation to punish the man.
“It won’t be going down the same way, and that brings me nicely onto the next order. Matt is going to lead an expedition towards the coast to secure a number of light vessels to bring back upriver. Those things hate the water which will mean you can travel in safety, ferrying the materials back and forth between the yard and the bridge. I want anyone with knowledge of motor propelled boats to also give their details to Harry. If I find out anyone has been trying to avoid their duty, you won’t need to guess how I’ll repay your idleness and cowardice.” Craig gently stroked the stained board like a lover.
“How do we hold the yard against the dead fucks?”
“While Hombre was loading up, they were only attacked by a handful of zombies. All activities will be closely guarded with guns and blades. Should a sizeable number appear, everyone will retreat to the boats and head back to the prison until they disperse. We have enough food to last until the new year, but if we don’t do this, we’ll all starve to death come the spring. Does everyone understand?”
Hundreds of heads bobbed in unison. Even the Fowler brothers grudgingly agreed while whispering to each other.
“Good. If anyone has any questions, you can catch me at one of the meetings. Now get back in the warm and start planning how much porn you’re going to watch, you dirty bastards!”
The cheers were deafening.
CHAPTER 27
“Winston, can I have a word?” Kurt asked.
Winston turned and smiled nervously. Fuck! What have I done? Sam hasn’t even asked about going outside yet. “Of course,” he squawked. Idiot! He’ll know something’s up.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes. Fine. Never better, thanks for asking,” babbled Winston. Keep this up and you’re going to learn how to fly!
Kurt stared at the youth for a few seconds and Winston could feel his cheeks flushing as if someone was turning up a dial.
“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Kurt said slowly. “Unless you have a reason…”
“I’m not scared. Well, I am scared. But it’s not for any particular reason. Ok, maybe that war pick on your belt is worrying me a bit,” Winston replied, seeing Kurt finger the deadly weapon.
“I could get my hatchet if that would be better?”
“No, it’s fine. Honestly,” Winston stuttered, backing away. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve asked the others and no one else can help me with this. I want to bring the crane inside the castle walls, and you’re the only one with knowledge of how to drive it.”
Winston sighed audibly. “I can do that.”
Kurt was surprised at the lack of objection. “Are you sure? There are a lot of the dead outside.”
“As long as you can draw them away so I can get in the cab, it should be a piece of cake. I can see two problems, though.”
“And what’re they?”
“The old girl is running on empty. I’d need time and space to put some fuel in the tank before starting her up,” he explained.
“I’m sure we can arrange that.”
“Actually, that would make it three. Getting some diesel would be number two.”
“No problem. We can siphon the vehicles in the castle. I’ve seen some jerry cans laying around in the maintenance building. And number three?”
“The bloody things keep stealing my shoes. I’d need some spares to replace the ones I’ll lose out there.”
Kurt chuckled. “Come on, let’s make the preparations.”
***
“Should we really be asking him to do this with his injured arm?” Sarah asked, kneeling beside Kurt as he filled up the fuel can.
“What an idiot. I didn’t even thin
k of that,” Kurt replied, rolling his eyes. “He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Of course, he didn’t. He wants to impress you, and this is another way for him to do that, even if it’s extremely dangerous.”
“Where is he?” Kurt mused, looking around the grounds.
“He’s with the other kids. Let me go and get him,” Sarah said.
Kurt watched her as she strode away, full of poise and confidence. God, how he loved her. Trapped in a living hell, she was a light in the darkness. She would sit with him through the long nights, comforting him as he wept for John, until falling asleep in her arms. Kurt analysed why the loss of his father had affected him so deeply. Following the loss of his mother, they had been drifting apart like ships passing in the night, vaguely aware of each other but with differing destinations. Gloria suggested that it could be the bond forged in their struggles against the undead. Adversity had a way of bringing people together and making the frivolous quarrels of the past irrelevant. Lacking a better explanation, he accepted it.
The hose gurgled as it drew the last dregs of fuel from the car. Kurt pulled the tube and replaced the filler cap to keep the legendary English rain at bay. There was no point damaging the vehicle unnecessarily. Sloshing the can, it contained at least ten litres which should prove enough to trundle through the gate to safety.
“You wanted to see me?” Winston asked, nervously.
“I wanted to apologise, mate. I never even asked if your arm was up to the task.”
“You know me, I’m as strong as an ox. The same size too,” he replied.