Either way, I was going rogue once we got in there and the killing started.
Shooter held up a hand and dropped low and we all did the same, watching as two Savage women crossed the path just in front of us. Four deaders were right behind, trailing after them with reaching arms and snapping teeth. The Savage women didn’t seem to care at all. They glanced over their shoulders every once in a while to make sure that the deaders were still there and following, and then continued onwards.
I looked over to Axe to see what he was thinking. At the moment I didn’t trust any one of these people—Axe even less in some respects—but I at least felt that he wouldn’t bullshit me when it came down to it.
His expression was hard, a deep-set scowl on his rugged face. He was watching the Savage women with a look of pure hatred. He must have sensed that someone was looking at him, because his gaze slid from the women and moved over the group of people, slowly and surely finding its way to me. I nodded at him, one sharp short nod to let him know that whatever he was planning, I wanted in—that I was with him on this—and he nodded back.
The Savages passed by, unaware of us so close by, and the deaders snapping at their heels followed them; like donkeys following carrots, they were unwavering in their desire for their next meal. Once it seemed like things were all clear we started moving again, slower this time, more wary of how close we were to their pit of hell.
We didn’t make it much further before we had to stop again. If it wasn’t for the low growl of deaders—lots of deaders, which echoed from somewhere in front of us—the stench of death hanging in the air would have been a dead giveaway that we were as close as we could get without breaking our cover.
Shooter held up a hand and we all stopped, dropping low to the ground. Up ahead I could make out where the trees had been cleared and a camp had been set up. A couple of small fires were burning at various points throughout the camp, and a spit was set up above the flames of each one, a Savage woman turning the handle every few seconds as the food cooked. My stomach flipped, because I already knew what that food was. I snapped my mouth closed so I didn’t breathe any of it in, wishing I had a scarf that I could cover my face with. Sickness clawed at my throat, and a cold sweat broke out across my skin. Fear traced its icy fingers across the back of my neck and my mouth began to water like I was going to throw up.
Deaders were being herded into a smaller entrance to the left, and I noted the large wooden door that had been made to secure it, and decided that first and foremost that entrance needed to be sealed immediately so we could at least fight the women without worrying about the dead taking a chunk out of us.
Directly across from us were the larger, shadowed entrances of the mines. Each one had been made sturdier by aging wood built to support the entrance’s frame. I’d thought the smell of death and rot had been coming from the body parts cooking over the fires, but it was too strong, too pungent to be just that. I knew it had to be coming from within those mines, and as the realization came to me, long ear-piercing screams came from within the mines. My heart froze in my chest like it had been pierced with a dagger.
The Savage woman closest to us continued to turn her spit-roast, not glancing up in surprise at the screaming, but a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth and I would have sworn she sighed as the screaming grew louder before silencing abruptly.
I dragged a hand down my face, holding it for several seconds over my mouth to stop myself from throwing my guts up. At some point in the past year, despite knowing what I’d seen back in those caves, I’d come to think of the horrors as worse than they really could be. Like they were horrendous and made worse by my imagination, my PTSD, and the echoes of time.
But now I was here.
And this was happening.
The meat over the fire wasn’t just meat, it was an arm. Cooking slowly as it was turned over the flames.
The screams echoing from the mines were from people that were alive in there. People that were being killed as we sat out there and waited to attack.
The scent of death hanging in the air wasn’t just from the deaders those women had herded into the small caves, but were from the death that they had inflicted upon so many people. Each death hung in the air as a reminder of the lives that used to be.
People that used to live, but were now nothing more than food—sacks of body parts to be sold off to the highest bidder.
Shooter turned and looked at us, giving a brief glance to Aiken. A look passed between the two men and it felt like we were all thinking the same thing. This was one cause now, and we had to end this today. Now. No matter the consequences. My fear abated, leaving behind only anger and the need for revenge A lust for their blood and their deaths by my hand.
Shooter reached around and pulled his long hair back from his face, securing it into a ponytail before pulling out a large army knife with a serrated blade and a thick black handle. He cracked his neck from side to side and I glanced around me, noting how everyone else was preparing themselves for battle. Some swiped mud across their cheeks, others tied their hair back, others just retrieved their weapons and prepared themselves mentally. And they’d need to. Because most of these people didn’t have a clue what these women were capable of. Sure, they knew the stories, but they hadn’t lived it. Not like I had. They didn’t know the true horror of these women, these Savages, and they likely wouldn’t until it was too late.
I felt sorry for the naivety because I’d been there once myself. Only this time I was prepared. This time I wasn’t staying with these hellions and waiting to die. This time I was taking Aife’s head and I wasn’t leaving without it.
I pulled out my machete and rolled my shoulders, enjoying the weight of the weapon in my hand. The heat of someone’s gaze on me had me looking up and I saw Aiken staring at me, a worried expression on his face. He nodded and I nodded back, but there was no time to wonder what his expression was about as Shooter stood up and began to walk out of the undergrowth where we were hiding, and we followed.
A group of Grim Reapers ready to kill or be killed, because this had to end. And it had to end now.
The Savage woman turning the spit roast glanced up, her gaze calm and casual until she realized that we weren’t one of her group. That we weren’t flesh-hungry cannibals. Someone, though I wasn’t sure who, fired a wooden arrow and it pierced her between the breasts as she opened her mouth to call for help. She fell backwards, silent, dead, the spit-roasting hand falling from the anchor securing it and falling into the flames below.
We’d been spotted now, and women charged toward us, spears held high. We charged forward, a group of one that split and divided as we faced each one of the monsters head on. I ran toward the smaller mine, to close the entrance and stop the deaders from getting out. I glanced behind me as I heard feet pounding the earth, and noted that a heavily tattooed, dark-haired biker was following me.
We stopped outside the mine, the scent of deaders coming from within so strong it made me feel sick. We each grabbed the heavy wooden door and began dragging it across the entrance. A makeshift lock was on either side, and we latched the thing closed.
“Thanks,” I grunted, and then we were back off, heading into the foray in front of us. Bodies were falling and fighting. Weapons raised from each side. Spears and knives and daggers flew toward each other and the scent of blood began to fill the air.
“I remember you,” a voice came from behind me and I turned just in time to duck away from a spear that was aimed at the back of my head.
I glanced up, seeing a leather-clad woman with long hair tied in a braid down one side. “Can’t say that you stir anything up in me other than a sicky feeling like I’ve drank bad milk,” I replied. I stood up straighter and ducked out of the way of the spear again.
“You were Aife’s pet,” she cackled, her eyes glowing with hatred for me.
“Ohhhh, her,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Yeah, I remember her. Still drawing a blank on you though. I mean, you�
�re just one of many, right? Just another body for the firepit if you die, right?”
A bitter smile rose on her face. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
“I’m going to enjoy you trying to kill me.” I gestured for her to come closer. “By the way, where is Aife?” I asked.
Her smile grew bigger. “Don’t you worry about her.” She pulled a knife from a sheath at her side, and we moved in a circle around one another for a moment before I saw my moment and threw my machete across at her. It hit her in the forehead, and for a moment she just stood there like she didn’t know what had just happened. Then she released her weapons and her hands grasped at the machete now embedded in her head for a second before she dropped to the ground.
I stepped closer, picking up her knife and sliding it into the machete holder strapped to my leg before reaching down and grabbing the machete in her forehead and pulling with both hands. Blood bubbled up around the weapon as it came out with a loud sucking sound. My hands were splattered with blood now, but the sight of it drove me on. I picked up her spear, turning quickly as I heard footsteps behind me, and spearing a Savage woman through the stomach as she ran straight into it. I let go of the spear and stepped away quickly, heading toward another woman who was fighting with Axe.
I came up behind her, and using both hands I raised the machete above my head and slammed it down into the back of her skull, spattering my face with her crimson blood.
“Yeah!” Axe cheered. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“You owe me one,” I grunted as I put my foot on the Savage’s back. Her body was still twitching as I gripped my machete in both hands and pulled it out of her head. Axe swung out with his heavy axe and smashed it into the face of another woman that was aiming her spear at me, and he laughed heartily when I flinched.
“And now we’re equal.” He grinned, like this was the best thing he’d ever done in his life. “Let’s buddy up and dismember these sickos together. I’m hungry to tear them apart.” He held out a hand for me to shake, and I stared down at it.
I wanted to feel disgust and sickness, but all I felt was sweet relief that I didn’t need to do this alone. As another woman was slain, her body falling to the earth and the soil absorbing her blood like a sponge, I shook Axe’s hand.
We turned to choose our next victim, watching as Shooter held tightly to a Savage woman as Gauge slit her throat, blood spilling down her front. He dropped her body, and as her hands clasped her throat to stem the blood flow Gauge raised his foot over her head, pressing it into the ground. She probably would have screamed if it weren’t for the hole in her throat. I looked away, turning my attention to Aiken as he ran toward two women that had been with our group who were fighting a Savage woman. The Savage was outnumbered, but she was strong—much stronger than both of those women.
She reached for the first woman, a shorter woman with a shiny black head of hair, as the other woman did some awesome kung fu kick against her. It was all a little too late though, as the Savage woman gripped the sides of the shorter woman’s neck and snapped it in one quick movement. She dropped the body to the ground and grinned at the other woman, showing teeth that had been filed to be sharp and cat-like.
The other woman cried out and lashed out with her fists instead of her blades, and the Savage woman grabbed her. I wanted to run over and do something, but Aiken had just gotten there and it was already too late as her neck was snapped alongside her friend’s.
Aiken had a sharp blade in each hand and he spun them around, his gaze fearsome. The Savage woman didn’t look bothered by his weapons or his strength, though, and the fear that had vanished slowly began to ebb back in. Axe patted me on the shoulder and I turned away from the brutal fight between Aiken and the Savage woman to look at him.
“This way,” he grunted, gesturing with his head toward the mines.
I followed him, leaving Aiken to fight his battle alone.
34.
Mikey
We ran for the entrance to the mines, diving inside and narrowly missing being hit with a flying spear. Inside it was dark, the scent of death like poison. It reminded me of the caves all those months ago, and I had to force myself not to turn and run, and instead face whatever lay in there.
The air was hot and stuffy like thick sludge that was hard to swallow. The walls were made of compacted earth and stabilized by wooden frames every couple of feet. A string of aged light bulbs were pinned along one wall but were no more use than any other electrical item now, so the Savages had pinned lit torches along the wall every few feet, meaning that there was also smoke to contend with. The passages were narrow and the air grew thicker as we crept deeper inside, the cries from outside and inside mingling until it was just one long chorus of pain.
Dark patches stained the ground, and I tried not to think about what they might be or where they had come from. I could already feel my pulse quickening, the stress of panic and anxiety building within me as the all too familiar setting chilled me to the bone.
A sudden and ear-splitting scream sounded out, followed by a long moan. I stopped and staggered to one side, as if the moan had been a punch to the gut. Axe turned to watch me, a scowl on his face that looked even more fearsome because of the shadows that curved traced across his features.
“You good?” he asked, his gaze flicking left and right to make sure no one was creeping up on us.
Another wail of pain sounded out and then I was deafened by my own blood pulsing through my ears, the rapid throb and pulse of my heartbeat over and over and over. I swallowed, knowing I needed to get myself together, but every time I tried to stand I felt dizzy and sick, the world spinning.
Axe shook his head, looking pissed off. He pointed the way we had just come. “Get out of here, leave me to handle this.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m okay, I’ve got this,” I said, my words practically a slur as I tried not to puke. The scent of decaying meat was so heavy that I could taste it.
“Nah, you’re done,” he replied, his voice filled with gravel.
I watched as the shadows behind him grew darker, the edges of my vision blackening as I struggled to get air into my lungs. The screams continued, the scent of death and dying, of rotting fat and decaying bones heavy in the air. It was too much. It was all too
Goddamn much.
Get a grip.
I gagged and retched on bile. The shadows deepened behind Axe and I gasped, desperate for air in my lungs. The image of Aife flashed behind my eyes when I closed then. The teeth, the leather, Drag’s last words hanging heavy in my heart.
Pull yourself together.
The ache of fear and the tremor of terror gripped my muscles, freezing them in place. The more I tried to fight it, the worse it got. Like every other panic attack I’d ever had, I had to let this pass.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I had to accept this for what it was and then I’d be okay. I’d get through this. I had to. Because I hadn’t come this far just to come this far, and Aife couldn’t get away with what she’d done. She had to pay.
Make her pay. Make them all pay.
Drag’s voice sung out in my head and my throat opened up, air finally sucking down into it. I closed my eyes, taking long breaths of the stale, vile air. I hated it—the taste on my tongue, the screams in my ears—but instead of fearing it, I let it fuel me, pushing me on for vengeance. I opened my eyes and the corner of Axe’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.
I pushed away from the wall quickly, shoving him to one side as a spear skimmed past us both and drove into the wall opposite. He spun in surprise and I lifted my machete and gave out a war cry, the decaying air filtering into my lungs and driving me onwards as I slammed my machete through the head of a Savage woman.
She fell to the ground, her blood splattering my face. I gagged on the taste of her blood in my mouth, spitting the vile taste onto the dusty floor at my feet. I clasped my knees and forced myself to calm the hell down before I got myself killed.
Axe slapped me on the back.
“That’s one to you,” he grunted, and I looked up and let out a dry laugh and he smirked. “Come on. I know what you’ve been through, but you can’t let it control you. You have to control it or you’re already dead, Mikey.”
He was right and I knew it, and I forced the air in and out of my mouth, ignoring the taste on my tongue and the sounds that filtered in from side pathways, and when I felt more under control of myself, I stood up and nodded.
“Come on then,” I replied, my voice hoarse.
We followed the sounds of screaming and moaning. The closer we got, the more terrified I felt and I wondered if I should have just let Axe blow the place up instead of trying to kill them all. They’d die down there eventually anyway, right? So why was I really putting myself through this madness?
Did I really need revenge to get closure this much?
The sounds were loud now, too loud, and I knew it was only beyond the last corner that we would find the true nightmare. Outside of the mine was a war, but inside was hell, and Axe and I were deep in the depths of it now.
I glanced at him, but he was completely fixated on the dark corner only a few steps away. Veins popped in his neck and forehead, his jaw muscles tensing as he ground his teeth together repeatedly.
“Let’s do it,” I said as a cry of pain echoed toward us.
We followed the noise, passing around the corner and entering into a large area that had been carved out to serve as a chamber of sorts. The shadows had swallowed the edges of the chamber whole and we were currently invisible, leaving us precious moments to soak up the nightmare before us.
Only I wished we didn’t have those moments.
I wished that we had blown the place up and never gone inside.
I wished that I had never gone back there at all, and that I had just gone back to Haven with Kelli and Freddy, because this…this was worse than hell.
Men and women were strung up by their arms and legs, swinging from wooden structures that held them there. There seemed like hundreds of them, but on closer inspection there couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen. Still, that was enough. Beneath each of them were deep puddles where their blood had soaked into the earth.
The Dead Saga | Book 7 | Odium 7 Page 26