Killing the Dead (Season 2 | Book 2): Dark and Deadly Land (8 page)

“Of course, we will,” I said as I reached out to embrace her. She was trembling softly as she thought to hold back her tears and I could only imagine the strength she must have to keep going when all of her children had been lost to her.
      

I climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the seatbelt across my chest as I waited for Ryan. He pulled open the door and before he could even sit down, the Alsatian pup jumped into the foot well of the car. He looked down at in consternation as I stifled a smile.

“Shoo,” he said as he waved at the dog and pointed to the ground outside the car. “Move mutt.”

“She likes you,” I said and he grunted.

“It’s not ours to take.”

As if that would stop him if he wanted it,
I thought.

“You can take her lad,” Jonathan said as he watched the drama unfold and scratched his head as though surprised at her behaviour. “She’s no use for working the farm. We have to keep her indoors anyway.”

“She’s fair taken with you,” Mary added.

“Oh fine,” he muttered as he climbed into the passenger seat. He tried to shove her aside but she refused to budge and he was left with having to press his legs up against the side in a way that must have been uncomfortable.

“Thank you for everything,” I said to the older couple. “Watch yourselves and be careful.”

“You too dear,” May said.

The engine rattled to life as I turned the key and then we were off. The couple watched us leave and I felt an odd worry for them all alone. I resolved to check on them on the way back to make sure they were safe.

“It’s following,” Ryan said and I looked over to see him staring up at the hilltop to our right. A sense of unease moved through me as I considered the odd behaviour of the zombie. Feral or not, it was beyond odd and more than a little scary.

At some point during the drive along the single lane road, the zombie fell behind and was lost to view. If it had followed us from the island I was sure it would be able to continue to do so since we only had one direction to go. I worried about what would happen when we had to rest for the night.

Aside from that looming threat, the ride was almost pleasant. The sun was bright and the day almost warm, flowers were poking through the grass on the hills and the trees were showing new growth. Spring was definitely on the way and I felt almost at peace.

We saw no threats along the road and after thirty minutes we rose out of the valley and into the hills, a short way through a stand of birch trees and then down towards the lake that Jonathan had said was named Derwent Water.

I followed the road as it wound north towards the town that we could just see in the distance and as we came upon the occasional zombie making its slow way along the road, I swerved to avoid them.

After an hour and a half of driving, we came to the edge of Keswick. A not too small town that was surrounded by open fields. Far to the east beyond the houses would be the long road full of the undead and I hoped they were far enough away that by the time they were aware of us, we’d already be gone.

The road we followed went through the west edge of the town and the buildings that lined the road were once homes to the now deceased population. I drove forward carefully and the tension in the vehicle increased as weapons were made ready.

I saw the first signs of the panicked flight as we came upon cars, abandoned on the road. Suitcases, clothing and other assorted personal belongings littered the street and gardens while the undead stared hungrily from the windows of houses as we passed.

Without needing to stick to the road, I was able to drive around most of the empty vehicles. Few of the undead were out on the street and we progressed in silence, no one wanting to speak as we lost ourselves to the memory of our own flight back when this nightmare had begun.

Ryan wound down his window as we passed a long line of cars, his arm striking out at a zombie just as it lurched towards us between two cars. It fell silently and he settled back with a faint smile on his lips.

Cass cried out as the houses fell away and we passed a primary school, small bodies straining against the steel bars of the gate, high pitched moans of hunger that turned to fury as we passed them by. Not even Ryan could look at those torn bodies for long before turning his face away.

I tried to focus on driving and pushed away the images that assaulted me. Eyes fixed on the road, but it wasn’t enough. I still saw the horrors of that town, could still smell that odour of death that blanketed it, could still capture those small glimpses of the despair faced by the initial survivors.

The weathered blankets hanging limp from windows with entreaties for help, for food, for hope scrawled across them. The blackened shells that were all that remained of homes once full of life and laughter. Those bones that littered the ground, telling a tale of a last stand. It was all I could do to keep focused on the road ahead.

No matter what, the horrors wouldn’t end. Someone was crying softly behind me at the sight of a stained pushchair torn almost to pieces. A body on the flat roof of a building, no sign of injury but the few zombies still waiting patiently in the parking lot below told the tale of a slow death while waiting for rescue that would never come.

Words scrawled in blood on an upstairs window, a car crashed into a lamp post with four zombies held in by seatbelts, a body hanging from a tree just visible in the back garden of a house with high walls and a solid gate. Endless scenes of death and despair and oh so many bones spread across the town.

It was a mausoleum now, a monument to death and one that would be repeated across the UK, across the world even. The urge to shout, to scream out my rage and the utter devastation I saw around me was almost overwhelming and my knuckles whitened as I gripped the steering wheel tight, desperate to hold on to something real and safe.

One of the undead staggered out of a garden ahead of me and I caught it with the corner of the range rover, knocking it to the ground and felt the car rise as the wheels went over it. A small spark of satisfaction came to me as I managed to inflict some small damage on the undead that had overwhelmed this place.

A faint humming came to me and I glanced across to see Ryan with the faintest trace of a smile on his face as he looked out over the town. No upset for him, no loss, no care for the horrors that seemed to psychically resonate through the town. I could have almost hated him then.

“Possible survivors,” he said and I blinked, unsure if I had heard him right.

“What?”

“Back there, I saw something between two of the houses,” he said as he twisted in his seat. He glanced back to me. “You want to check it out?”

The anger, that first stirring of hate for what he was drained away at that. No one else had seen, no one else would have known if he’d never mentioned it, but he had anyway. It reassured me that there was something inside of him worth loving.

“Yes!” I said as I brought the car to a stop. “What did you see?”

“Two people on top of a truck. It was a momentary glimpse between two houses to the street beyond as we passed but I’m fairly sure they were alive and surrounded.”

“Group vote,” I said. “This isn’t like the island, we have a task to do and nowhere to put anyone we save. I won’t ask anyone to do it if they don’t want to but if you all vote not to then I’ll go alone and meet up with you later.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Gregg said. “Of course, we’re with you.”

“Becky?” I said as Pat and Cass nodded agreement.

“Like it matters,” she said with a nod to the others. “It’s already decided.”

“Let’s go then.”

We left the car on the road making sure to lock it and take the keys with us. Jinx seemed to understand the need to stay behind and guard the vehicle while the rest of us, I like to think, were eager to just do something after seeing so much horror in this town.

Ryan led the way back to where he’d caught a glimpse and stood on the pavement as he leant forward on a garden wall to better see the tableau unfold. I joined him and saw that he’d been right. Something I was intensely grateful for since it gave me hope for him.

A young couple crouched on top of a refrigerated lorry that had been abandoned in the middle of the road. Around it were perhaps twenty or more undead all jostling each other and reaching up to try and claw at them. Around the edge of that crowd, three zombies circled the lorry, each seeming more alert than the others and my heart sank as I realised they were Ferals’.

“You see them?” I asked and he nodded.
Of course, he did.

“What do you think?” Pat asked as he hefted his club in one large hand. He seemed both eager to release some pent up frustration while at the same time, wary of the danger Cass would be putting herself in.

“We get their attention,” Ryan said in that quiet tone of voice he tended to use before he killed something. “We have this garden wall and the one at the rear of the house. They’ll come up against the wall and we kill them.”

“What about the others,” Gregg asked as he pointed to the three Ferals’.

“Leave them to me,” he said with a predatory smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

The sound of all too familiar moans rose and I glanced over to the lorry to see one of the Ferals had tried climbing over the cab and been struck over the head with what looked to be a cricket bat. Ryan uttered a curse and when I looked at him he seemed irritated that one of the Ferals had been killed.

“You going to be ok with the other two?” I asked and he grunted as he vaulted the wall. I took that for assurance that he would be and gestured for the others to follow.

We dashed across the garden and Gregg let out a yell to grab the attention of the zombies. An unsettling number of heads turned toward us at the sound and we were seen. Fully two-thirds of the undead lurched towards us and came up short against the garden wall.

They were slow and definitely starting to decay. I tried not to think of the people they had once been as I took a deep breath and swung my club. My swing came up short and rather than crush the skull it caught the zombie’s cheek, tearing off most of the rotten flesh of the face with a slurping sound.

I coughed and staggered back as the breakfast I’d eaten came straight back up and then out to splatter against the unkempt grass of the garden. I swiped the back of my free hand over my mouth and sent silent thanks after Pat as he stepped into my place and finished off the zombie.

Half of them were already dead and I saw the Ferals look our way. Ryan, with a deadly grace, was upon them before they even saw him, distracted as they were by us. A punch, kick, knee to the back and blade to the skull and the first one fell.

He moved almost like a dancer when he killed. A sidestep here, quick turn there, all smooth motion with no wasted energy. Three of the Shamblers’ that had remained by the lorry died in quick succession, almost an afterthought as he passed them on his way to the last Feral.

It lunged at him and he ducked, dropping his shoulder to catch it in the midriff and surging up to throw it over his shoulder. It rolled and came to its feet as he swung around, booted foot lashing out to catch it on the chin.

Dazed, it staggered back as he dashed forward. His knife darted out as it twisted away and slammed into the creature's shoulder. It lashed out and he narrowly avoided its filthy claws raking his face as he released his knife and darted to one side. I stepped forward without thinking as I saw him suddenly weapon-less.

He wasn’t perturbed. With a grin, he swung around past it and wrapped his arms around its neck. With a quick twist and an audible sound, it dropped lifelessly to the ground with a broken neck. He retrieved his knife and slammed it down into the skull for good measure before going after the Shamblers.

I shook my head as I realised I had been standing in the garden watching him rather than doing anything to help my friends. I moved back to join them but it was just about over and the last two zombies fell to heavy blows from Pat and Becky.

Silence fell as Ryan finished off the last of the Shamblers, looking for all the world as though he were having fun. The young couple on top of the lorry had watched it all unfold with jaws hanging open. The whole thing had taken less than two minutes.

“You guys okay?” I called up.

The young couple looked to each other and their hands moved in a way that I’d seen before. I sighed as Becky barked out a laugh and exclaimed, “They’re deaf.”

“No, my sister is but I’m not,” the young man said.

“Come down, we should leave before more arrive,” I said with a wave towards the scattered corpses.

“No offence, but how do we know we can trust you?” he called back and I shrugged helplessly.

“You can’t know, it’s a choice you need to make though.”

“Come on mate,” Gregg called. “Why would we save you if we wanted to harm you?”

“We’ve been fooled before,” he said and I could see a shadow pass across his face as he remembered difficult times. “This winter was bad for everyone and it brought out the worst in people.”

“More coming,” Ryan called softly. I looked over to see him leant nonchalantly against a garden wall as he cleaned off his knife. He caught my eye and tilted his head to the right. I followed the direction and saw a couple of Shamblers turn into the road about three hundred metres away.

“Look,” I called. “No offence meant here but stop being an idiot. We have a car and while it will be cramped we can just about fit you in. We’ve just saved you and have no intention of harming you but we’re leaving. Come with us or not but you need to leave before those damn things get here.”

The young man, probably barely into his twenties, gestured rapidly to his sister. She looked to be sixteen at most and she had a wariness about her that spoke of past harm done. I sighed once more as I realised it was likely more the norm these days than it would be to find someone who hadn’t been through hell.

Finally, the man turned to us and nodded abruptly. He didn’t look happy and as he helped his sister down from the lorry, he kept his eyes on us and the cricket bat to hand.