Byzantium Infected Box Set

by James Mullins

  Nasir and Jaco nodded in agreement, and Jaco said, “That’s a good start. We’ll have the wagons facing back the direction we came. If there is danger,” He points to the south toward the general location of Jerusalem, “It is likely to originate from that way.”

  Nasir nodded in agreement, “Indeed, myself, Maarika, and Legion, navigated our way around several hordes to the south before we happened upon your group.”

  Baltazar pondered this information for several moments and then said, “Jaco, I think this terrain, strewn with so many bodies, is too tough to risk your horses trying to navigate through. I think your group should guard the wagons, while I set off with the guardsmen to locate fallen kataphractoi. That way we can harvest their armor and drag it back to the wagons.”

  Jaco nodded his agreement, “I’ll make sure this lot doesn’t flee on you while you’re gone.”

  Baltazar smiled, “Good, Nasir, I’d love to have you with us, but I’m not crazy about the idea of bringing Legion along.”

  Nasir replied, “I’m not letting Maarika out of my sight. Either we all go, or I stay.”

  Baltazar frowned at Nasir’s response, “I don’t like the idea of having Legion bellowing and bringing every damned within ten miles down upon us.”

  “Then it’s settled. Maarika, Legion, and I will stay with the wagons.”

  “I’m already leaving Jaco’s experienced men behind to protect the wagons. The retrieval team could really use another experienced Skutatoi.” Baltazar replied.

  Nasir opened his mouth to reply when Maarika put her hand over it, “I’ll be fine here with Legion and Jaco’s men. Baltazar needs the help of our most experienced warrior love. Go with him.”

  Nasir sighed, the displeasure evident, “Very well.” He turned to Jaco and asked, “Please keep her safe.”

  Jaco nodded at Nasir, “Like she was my own daughter.”

  Baltazar along with Nasir and the guardsmen begin picking their way across the battlefield. As they do so, Baltazar’s thoughts constantly drift back to the day so many died on this ill-fated field. He looked over at the sun which was sinking toward the western horizon. His mind took him back to this same moment two a fortnight ago. The situation seemed hopeless then. He admitted to himself that things had appeared that way most of the day.

  Baltazar heard movement off to his right. His mind instantly snapped back into the here and now as one of the damned, arms outstretched was hurtling itself toward the middle of his column. Nasir and Baltazar saw the threat at the same moment and in unison said, “Right face, shields up!”

  Despite their nervousness, the guardsmen obeyed the command instantly. Though lacking the drill and experience of trained Skutatoi they brought their shields up within five seconds of each other. Fully trained Skutatoi would have managed the feat in unison with the shields coming together all at once. Done properly, this feat creates a crisp noise as the edges of each shield came into contact with its neighbors.

  This hungry and vile creature wore robes, the kind worn by denizens of the deep desert. At one time they were white. Now they were ripped in many locations and spattered with blood. Traces of the man’s keffiyeh could be seen on his head, but most of it had been sheared off somehow.

  Nasir had taken out his sling and placed a lead bullet within the leather strap. At the same time, Baltazar ran behind the guardsmen to provide support to whomever the minion of Satan chose to turn into a snack. As it got within ten feet, Liam could hear its teeth clicking together rapidly. He shuddered at the thought of it wanting the taste of his flesh and braced for impact.

  An instant before it crashed into his shield Nasir slung his bullet at the former desert dweller. The bullet made a dull splat noise as it penetrated the right side of the thing’s skull. Satan’s minion perished instantly, but momentum still carried it into Liam’s shield. With a dull splat, the putrid corpse crashed into his shield and slid to the ground, never to move again.

  “Hold position, there may be more,” Baltazar ordered as he looked around for additional threats to his men. After several minutes of waiting, and no more threats materialized. They continued toward their destination. It took the group about an hour to slowly pick their way through the bodies of the fallen.

  The bones of the Skutatoi had been picked clean by the damned, or other more natural sources hungering for meat. They were careful not to step on any of the dead, but the task was impossible. The sound of crunching and splintering bones was a constant reminder of what they were in the midst of.

  Reaching the desired point, Baltazar brought his column to a halt. He looked down at the river and then up at the hill, This was the spot all right. He took a deep breath and tried to relax, but anxiety gripped his chest. It felt as if a four-hundred-pound person were sitting on it, making it tough to breathe. Ignoring this, he looked around trying to spot a fallen Kataphractoi. Immediately around him were several skeletons whose bones had been picked clean of meat. They were wearing the armor of the 5th Parthica.

  While trying to ignore the remains of his comrades in arms Baltazar’s eyes finally settled on the familiar shape of the barding that the heavy war horses of the kataphractoi wore. Pointing he said, “Over there.”

  They made their way to the fallen horse. As they approached, they saw movement and heard the familiar sound of a damned, but something muffled it. As Baltazar made his way around what was the belly of the fallen horse, by way of the head, he saw it. The former Kataphractoi had been bitten. Unfortunately for him, his horse must have broken a leg at some point falling on its right side and pinning the Kataphractoi to the ground.

  The undead Kataphractoi tried in vain to reach for Baltazar as he studied the damned trying to figure out a way to kill it. Encased in plate mail now that was going to be quite an undertaking. Sensing a meal close at hand, it managed to free its leg from the horse and lunged at Baltazar knocking him over. As the two crashed to the earth, the visor opened, and the Kataphractoi attempted to bite Baltazar in the face.

  Baltazar strained to keep it off of him with both of his arms, as Nasir approached from behind. The weight of the armored damned pressing down on him made this task very difficult. Nasir grabbed the Kataphractoi’s plume on the top of his helmet and yanked back hard. Its head snapped back, and it cried out its frustration at being denied a meal that was so close. Nasir plunged his dagger into the Kataphractoi’s eye socket bringing its unholy existence to a merciful end.

  “Thanks,” Baltazar said as he pulled himself out from under the corpse.

  Nasir’s eyes fell on another fallen Kataphractoi about fifty feet away. He pointed and said, “Over there.”

  Baltazar’s eyes followed the end of his finger, and he saw the fallen Kataphractoi. The poor fellow had apparently landed head first and snapped his neck. Baltazar’s eyes looked to the right and spotted the man’s horse. It must have tripped, or fallen on some of the damned as it charged, throwing its rider.

  “Let’s grab the furthest suit of armor and barding and move it here. We’ll then take both sets back to the wagons. I don’t want any more than five of us at a time carrying armor.” Baltazar said. He set off in the direction of the 2nd fallen Kataphractoi without waiting for a reply.

  They followed him to the 2nd fallen Kataphractoi. Thankfully this one perished on impact to the ground and wasn’t bitten. Not for lack of trying mind you. The armor had several small indentations where the damned had tried to chew through it. There were also several broken teeth on the ground nearby the fallen Kataphractoi. The horse hadn’t been as lucky. The barding it wore did not protect its belly. The damned had taken advantage of this fact and consumed every last bit of meat on its skeleton.

  This made the barding easy to remove from the horse. Rinor yanked the helmet off the fallen Kataphractoi’s head and was assaulted with the smell of two-week-old corpse that had been baking in the desert sun. “Holy mother of God what a stench!” he exclaimed. He fought back the urge to vomit but was unsuccessful.

 
Finishing, Rinor steeled himself for the task of taking the suit of plate mail armor off the putrid corpse. He started with the arms. As he pulled the first piece free, an upper shoulder, the Kataphractoi’s skin stuck to the inside and came off with it. Somehow during the decaying process, the man’s skin had become fused to the armor.

  After several minutes and at least three dry heaves later Rinor completed his task. The bloody and horrific smelling suit lay at his feet. He gathered it up and along with the rest of the group set off back toward the wagons. As they marched Baltazar kept sensing something, but every time he turned to look, nothing was there.

  It watched as the group dragged the shinies away. The smell of their living flesh made her mouth drool in anticipation. The succulent living flesh would taste so good on her tongue The hunger was overwhelming, but the situation was all wrong. If she attacked now, their numbers would deny her the meal and likely her very existence. What to do?

  She slunk along the ground trying to avoid being seen by the meals. As she did so, she pondered her conundrum, How do I get these meals into my belly? Then it occurred to her, I must share the meal with others. With enough of us, we can overwhelm them.

  She looked around hoping to see others like her that hungered for the flesh of the living. With growing frustration, she realized that she was the only one nearby. She sniffed at the wind. There was a gentle breeze coming from the south that carried the scent of more of her kind. A great deal more.

  I must bring them here. Then we will be able to share the flesh. Her decision made, she slowly backed away from the meals. Once out of sight she ran to the south. She occasionally paused and sniffed the breeze to make sure she was getting closer to them.

  Baltazar’s group dragged the two sets of armor back to the wagons. The effort tired them out severely, “I don’t think camping in the middle of all this would be a good idea.” Baltazar said.

  Jaco nodded in agreement, “Aye. Since we’ve cleared the road, it won’t take nearly as long to get back to this spot on the ‘morrow. We should head north until we are free of this carnage and set up camp on the banks of the Jordan.”

  Baltazar shivered at what happened the last time they were on the shores of a body of water, The thought of that brings back bad memories, but it is the best place to set up and water the horses.

  Baltazar walked over to the armor, “Men, help me get this armor loaded into the wagons, and we will head back the way we came. Once we are free of this carnage and the horrific smell we will set up camp.”

  With everyone working together it took only a few minutes to get the armor loaded into one of the wagons. The group then turned the wagons around and set off to the north. Jaco’s group once again scouted ahead to ensure that there were no surprises.

  After about twenty minutes Jaco returned and reported, “There is a beautiful spot about thirty minutes to the north at the pace you are moving. Idyllic even. My men are there getting the camp set up as best they can. One of the boys spotted a grove of date trees so we will have fresh dates tonight.”

  “Good news indeed,” Baltazar replied.

  Jaco rode beside Baltazar’s lead wagon. Just as he predicted they arrived at the camp site half an hour later. The sun was low on the horizon, and they cast long shadows over the slow-flowing brown waters of the Jordan River. The camp site had enough soft grass for everyone to lay down and enjoy. Surrounding the grass were several palm trees. The low-hanging palm fronds had the effect of turning the site into their own private grove.

  They enjoyed their evening meal of fresh dates, set a guard, and laid down to rest for the night. As Baltazar slept, his dreams were filled with scenes of battle. It seemed no matter how hard he fought he couldn’t save his friends as they all died around him. Many fell around him and became damned. Over and over he would be overwhelmed in battle and feel sharp teeth pulling at his flesh before all would go black.

  He woke up in a cold sweat. The air had cooled down considerably, and the eastern horizon had a hint of purple. He got up and walked over to the river to relieve himself. As he did so, he stared at the moon. The soft glow of the orb reflected off the water as it lapped gently against the shore.

  Finishing, he sat down on the ground and placed his feet into the cool waters. As he enjoyed the feel of the water on his feet, he continued staring at the moon. The soft light mesmerized him, and he soon fell back asleep and was pulled into battle once again.

  Chapter 32

  Morning, August 21th 636, Jerusalem Road North of Yarmouk, Palestinia Province, Byzantium

  The Best Laid Plans

  She arrived back at the spot where she had seen the meals earlier, They were not there. Bellowing in frustration, she looked back at the teeming masses of her kind. Before her transition, she could have determined the number, but now her dim mind simply registered them as many. Getting down on her knees, she began sniffing the ground. There! She picked up the scent of the living. She called out to the swarming masses following her and led them north. As they moved, the sound of so many drew more and more of them to her.

  Baltazar awoke to sunlight shining on his face. The sun had just broken the horizon and was treating them to a grand canvas of colors. Shades of pink, orange, red, purple and some blue, all vied for dominance, as the sun inched higher and higher on the horizon. The lone man on watch turned at the noise of him standing, and their eyes met. Baltazar smiled, “Good morning.”

  The man, Sarmatus was his name, smiled back, “Good morning, sir.”

  “The sunrise was never this beautiful in Armenia.” Baltazar cast a glance back at the beautiful tableau for one more moment and then sighed, “Let’s get them up.”

  Sarmatus nodded, and they began to shake each man awake to keep the noise to a minimum. The camp quickly came to life. A fire was soon crackling and swaying in the breeze. It wasn’t long before the smell of fresh fish, caught the night before, permeated the camp. Despite the horrors they witnessed the day before, the men seemed to be in good spirits as they ate and chatted.

  The darkness melted away and the scent grew stronger as she walked. She looked to her right as the bright orb broke the horizon. She used to know the name of it, but this morning it escaped her. Frustrated, she tried to focus her thoughts on the word but it just wouldn’t come to her.

  What was that? She inhaled deeply. There it was, stronger this time, a smell. Like nothing the dim memory of her previous life had ever sensed before. Sweetness intertwined with a huge compulsion. Unlike the orb, she knew immediately what the smell represented, Living flesh.

  She howled in anticipation of the succulent meats touching her tongue and filling the hideous void in her mid-section. The noise that came forth from her rotting vocal cords sounded like a cross between an old lady cackling and the growl of a wolf. No matter how much meat she consumed, it never seemed to fill the void.

  Baltazar’s group finished breaking their fast with fresh roasted fish and dates. Some the men tossed dirt onto the fires extinguishing them. Others worked to load the wagons. Like the day before, Jaco’s men fanned out in front of them. Next, the guardsmen marched in a loose column. Then finally the wagons creaked and groaned as they rolled down the road single file.

  Maarika and Legion sat in the back of the last wagon. Not having the heart to blindfold him, this morning she kept his eyes focused on her with children’s games. He smiled and laughed as they played. His mind distracted from the thoughts that had seemingly destroyed it.

  Jaco rode at the center of his men. The men fanned out about three hundred feet apart from each other heading south. They stayed about a mile in front of the main group. Jaco was riding along the left side of the hill that ran north-south in parallel with the road to Yarmouk. The sun had been up for an hour, and the sky was a lovely shade of eggshell blue. As he held his left hand up to the side of his face to block the blinding rays of the sun, he spied a smudge on the horizon to the south. God, please no, he thought to himself in horror. Coming from that direction
, there is only one thing that could cause that smudge.

  Jaco looked to his left and right and signaled his men forward at a crisp canter. He didn’t want to tire the horses out with a gallop. If his suspicions were correct, they would need all of their horse’s speed very soon. Unlike yesterday at this point, they couldn’t hear the birds, They must have had the sense to fly away. Topping the rise that looked down into the Yarmouk Valley his heart sank. The entire valley crawled. He sighed deeply as he spied the biggest horde he had ever laid eyes upon.

  Jaco’s men joined him on the rise. They too just sat there for several moments and stared, stunned at what they saw. Unable to contain the shock within him any longer Jaco exclaimed, “Holy Mary Virgin Mother of God!”

  Several of his men made the sign of the cross at the sight and openly prayed for deliverance. Coming back to his senses, Jaco turned his horse about and yelled, “Ride you fools!”

  She had been able to distinguish between distinct smells for quite some time. Sweat, leather, and succulent flesh. She also sensed the large meals with four legs and no arms. Finally, her eyes saw the meals. They were atop the rise in front of her.

  She broke into a run toward them as they turned away from her, Don’t they understand that they are to feed my hunger? Why do they go? The thought angered her, and she screamed her frustration. Several of her compatriots took up her call, and it spread across the horde like wildfire. A mournful keening straight from the bowels of hell. For miles around others heard the call and began moving in the sound’s direction.

  As they rode north to escape the horde, Jaco looked over his shoulder one last time before the multitude disappeared from view. Seemingly frustrated, they let out a horrific cry of anguish and began running toward him. He smacked his horse on its rump with a leather strap and dug his spurs into its sides while yelling, “HEYAA!” Responding to him the horse leaped forth at a gallop. Jaco’s men fell in line behind him, and the two miles that separated them from Baltazar’s group fell away in five minutes time.