Evan swore under his breath and vowed to kill this man if he got the chance. Suddenly the door flew open and Father Thomas strode in
rolling down his shirtsleeves, his face red and sweaty.
“How is she?”
he asked.
“She’ll be fine,” said Nathaniel, “just needs a bit of TLC. I’ll
take her upstairs and let the boy know he’s got a visitor.”
“Good, good,” nodded the Father.
“Make sure our guest here gets to bed for some rest. See if you can get her to drink some water or something though, she looks terrible. Make sure George knows we saved her from these clowns. He’ll be on our side in a heartbeat.”
“You underestimate him,” said Joe
, as Nathaniel handed the gun to the Father and lifted Karyn up, dropping her over his shoulder. Father Thomas went to the fireplace and got a small fire going. He had no desire to make them warm or comfortable but he knew the smoke from the chimney might draw more survivors.
“
I’m going up to keep watch for a while. You kids be good now.” Father Thomas winked at Evan and smirked. Evan, Amane and Joe were left bound to the chairs, helpless, as the door swung shut on them. At the top of the stairs, the Father stopped, panting for breath. He went into the room where Nathaniel had lugged Karyn to; the same room where Nathaniel had stolen Amane and Lily from the night before. He handed Nathaniel the gun.
“Nath
aniel, I’m going to rest for a while.” He left Nathaniel trying to get Karyn to sip some water and walked down the hallway into the end bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
“
Rest? Yeah, right,” muttered Nathaniel. He knew his old friend better than that. He lay Karyn down on the bed and stroked his unkempt beard, looking at her.
Karyn
was muttering incomprehensibly, the way people whisper and talk in their sleep. She was trembling and sweating; her eyes were sunken and her skin looked anaemic. Nathaniel went out and unlocked George’s room.
“Come here
, kid,” he said, pointing the gun at George, who was curled up on the bedspread forlornly. George looked at him with burning hatred and didn’t move.
“Why should I?”
Nathaniel leered. “Mummy’s home. Me and the Father fetched her. Your so-called friends abandoned you, and her, but we saved her, George. For you. Come on.”
Uncertain,
George jumped off the bed and followed Nathaniel, running over to his mother when he saw her. He took hold of her hand. It was cold and clammy.
“Mum? Mum?” George shook her but she didn’t wake up.
“She’s sleeping kiddo. Had a rough night. But don’t worry; we’ll take care of her now.”
George felt confused. Maybe these men were okay after all.
“Thanks,” he said timidly. He was aware that Nathaniel still had a gun in his hands.
“Look, George, you go rest in your room, I won’t lock you in anymore
if you promise to be good and stay there, all right? Then when it’s lunchtime, I’ll come get you and we’ll talk to your mum together.”
George dropped his mother’s limp arm
and gave her a kiss.
“Love you
, Mum.”
Nathaniel watched, smiling,
as George reluctantly trudged back to his room. With the boy on their side, there was nothing to do now but wait. Nathaniel sat down to watch over Karyn. The Father would want to speak to her but not yet. Nathaniel knew him better than to believe he was going upstairs to rest. He wouldn’t be back down for hours. Or at least until his fat belly grew hungry.
* *
* *
Father Thomas sat on the bed stroking Lily’s hair. She faced away from him, staring at the walls. He sighed.
“I’m going to ask you one
last time. Do you repent all your sins? Do you give yourself willingly to me? Will you sacrifice yourself for our Lord?”
Lily didn’t speak. She thought back to a few days ago when her life had been normal
, her mum always fussing over her like she was still a little kid. Her dad was always lecturing her about how she wore too much make-up and too few clothes. Her heart ached. She missed them both so much now.
Father Thomas
sighed. “I had hope for you, you know?” He took a large knife out from his boots and cut the ties holding her captive on the bed. She was still naked and shivering with cold and fear. He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her up to stand before him.
“Answer me,
cunt!” He shouted at her, inches away, saliva spraying her face.
“
Let me go, please!” Lily sobbed, her arms folded around herself. She tried to turn away from him but was too weak. With one hand holding the blade to her throat, he forced her over to the window and opened it. He flung it open and shoved her over, face down, so she was dangling dangerously over the precipice. She yelped as the rough brickwork scraped her breasts like sandpaper, grating skin and drawing blood. Beneath her, from the front garden, a thousand hungry zombies looked up and reached for her, a thousand dead people groaning, arms straining to rip her apart. Their appetite for death and destruction was unsatisfied and this young girl before them, dripping blood, sweat and tears, only enflamed their ceaseless appetite.
“Shall I l
et you go now?” said Father Thomas. He laughed as her tears dripped down her face onto the agitated zombies below. They couldn’t reach her, but they tasted her salty tears like an appetiser. She believed that right then, he was going to slit her throat and let her topple over.
Holding t
he knife at her throat, aroused by the girl’s fear, he unzipped his trousers and positioned himself behind her, kicking her feet apart with his. Her ankle was red and swollen and she had to put all her weight onto her body to stop herself from collapsing. Lily cried out in agony as he forced himself inside her, laughing heartily, whilst she looked down on the frenzied mob below her, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. She howled and cried above the zombies, trying to block out the pain, praying for a quick death.
* * *
*
Nathaniel
was getting bored watching their prisoner, waiting for the Father. He laid the gun down on the cabinet. He felt Karyn’s forehead. He had expected her to be running a high fever but she felt cool. Despite her sickness, she was pretty. Greasy blonde hair lay around her face and beneath the suit; he could tell she was in good shape. Nathaniel licked his lips again. There was no reason why Father Thomas should have all the fun. He slipped his hand beneath her blouse and his warm hand felt ice-cold breasts beneath a silky bra.
“
Karyn?” he said quietly.
S
he did not respond to his voice. She just lay there on the bed, her whole body quivering, her eyes closed. He unzipped her skirt and pulled it down roughly, exposing vanilla underwear and white thighs. He ripped off her panties revealing the intimate area he eagerly wanted. He dropped his trousers round his ankles and clambered onto the bed between her, fumbling to get his erection out. Holding himself above her, he penetrated her, marvelling that she didn’t stir as he pushed himself in. Within seconds, he had come. Satisfied, he withdrew, got off the bed, and pulled his trousers up. He pulled her skirt back up, not wanting the Father to know he had not been able to wait. Nathaniel sat down in the chair and closed his eyes, relaxing. He preferred it when they didn’t thrash around. Satiated, he started to doze.
He didn’t notice when
Karyn finally stopped breathing. He was caught up in his own dreams and thoughts. It had been only a couple of days ago when he’d finished with the last one. That one he had got to finish off properly, just how he liked. He had strangled her when he came. He couldn’t touch Karyn yet though, he knew if he did, the Father would kill him.
Karyn’s body froze and sank into death as Nathaniel sank lower into the chair. He didn’t notice when her body was released from the grip of death and her hands clenched the sheets. He failed to open his eyes when she slowly sat up. He was dreaming about what he would do to her tomorrow. Who knows, maybe she would give herself willingly? He had saved her after all.
He failed to notice when her eyes opened and her neck turned awkwardly toward him.
Her legs swung off the bed and her shoes suddenly landed on the floorboards. The unexpected noise invaded his morbid dreams and Nathaniel opened his eyes. He was flabbergasted by what he saw.
“
Karyn? Are you okay?” Surely she couldn’t be one of them? She was alive but just minutes ago. She was fine, wasn’t she?
Her red-rimmed eyes stared back at him
unblinking and her open mouth made pitiful gurgling noises. He could see her chest was not moving; she wasn’t breathing. He stood up and she lunged for him. Her teeth gnashed together, unable to sink into the inviting flesh as he held her back at arms’ length. Her rubbery brown tongue lolled uselessly from the side of her drooling mouth. They grappled and he forced her backwards. As she fell back onto the bed, he escaped her clutches and raced for the pistol. He shot wildly as she sprang up again, missing her and blowing the window out, breaking glass shattering onto the empty courtyard below.
“Mum?” George opened the door and saw his mother swaying on her feet. He had never seen her look so
ill. When she looked at him, he was reminded of the old lady in Miguel’s house. He saw Nathaniel raise his gun and point it at his mother.
“No!” He hit Nathaniel in the kidney
, causing another missed shot, the bullet disappearing out the open window. Nathaniel grabbed George’s shirt.
“She’s dead
, you idiot!” George kicked him in the shins and ran just as Karyn jumped and landed on Nathaniel. He pushed her up, blocking her biting jaw with his forearm.
Father Thomas rushed in and kicked
Karyn’s head. She rolled off Nathaniel who stood up quickly.
“Get after the kid! I’ll take care of this
, you fucking moron.” Father Thomas walked toward Karyn.
“
Get back here, you little shit!” called Nathaniel. That boy had humiliated him and nearly gotten him killed. Angry and scared, Nathaniel ran out of the room after George with the gun in his hand.
C
HAPTER NINE
George ran, petrified. He heard Nathaniel’s heavy footsteps behind him and ran as fast as he could. He pounded down the stairs two at a time. At the bottom, he jumped the last few steps onto the floor and slipped on a rug, sprawling out into the corridor. He looked back up and saw Nathaniel at the top taking aim. The shot rang out, whistling over George’s shoulder, splintering wood as it pierced the wall.
George
jumped up and ran down the hallway, stopping at the door to the cellar. He descended the steps carefully, groping in the dark for the handrail. He couldn’t find the cord for the light and felt his way along the cool wall for the exit. His hands ran over cold, damp walls, through cobwebs, over dusty wine bottles, until finally he felt a smooth surface. He found the door handle and opened the door to the corridor back to the funeral home. As he did so, Nathaniel entered the cellar.
“Hey, boy, get back here!
You little fucker.”
George did not stop. His eyes were growing accustomed to the dark
gradually and he gingerly felt his way along the narrow corridor. Halfway down he heard the door behind him open and light flooded out from the cellar. George turned to see Nathaniel step out and steadily raise the gun.
“Last chance.”
Nathaniel was staring, unblinking, both hands on the gun pointed directly at him.
George froze
. There was nowhere to run to down here. He stepped back slowly, fingers brushing the walls, the chill air sending shivers down his spine. He thought of Lucy and how much he missed her. He thought of his father and wished he were here with him. His fingers brushed against cold metal and he paused. The door they had passed on their way in! He whirled round and reached up, pulling back the top bolt. A bullet fizzed past his head and winged off the door.
“Stop that
, you fucking idiot! Don’t open that door!” Nathaniel strode toward him re-aiming the gun.
George bent down and pulled back the bolt at the base. A
nother bullet tore through his trouser leg, drawing blood, but only scraping the surface, and embedded itself in the ground. George cried out in pain but was more scared of not opening the door than facing Nathaniel or whatever might be behind it. Ignoring his bleeding leg, he dragged the heavy door handle with all the strength he could muster, disregarding the banging noises inside. The door slid open, disappearing into a crevice in the wall.
“No!”
Now it was Nathaniel’s turn to freeze. The gun in his hand hung limply by his side as he forgot all notion of capturing or killing the boy. George ran down the corridor and turned the corner out of sight. From the mortuary’s freezer stumbled the first zombie: Father Thomas’ sister. Nathaniel stared with a mixture of revulsion and fascination. Her body had been preserved perfectly and retained a lot of its strength. She moved jerkily and her eyes had glassed over, but otherwise, it looked like the same woman he had raped and strangled yesterday before dumping her inside. The milky eyes locked on Nathaniel and she snarled. Her advancing form filled the narrow corridor as she walked uneasily toward him, like a child learning to walk for the first time.
Nathaniel raised the gun as more dead bodies filed out after her
. Fresh cadavers, born again from the depths of hell, stumbled out into the cramped corridor, all headed for him. He fired a shot, hitting the Father’s sister in the head. Her right cheek blew open, jawbone shattering, exposing broken jagged teeth, and obliterating her right eye. Half her face had been blown away and she didn’t even flinch. Still, she kept coming. With only a few feet between them, Nathaniel turned on his feet and ran back toward the house, almost tripping over his own feet in his eagerness to escape. Back through the cellar he ran, unable to stop the zombies behind him.
* *
* *
Lily heard the
gunshots and the sharp noise snapped her out of her wretchedness and misery. She watched the Father run out of the room, forgetting all about his perversions. Tottering on unsure feet, she took a shirt from the floor and put it on. It was one of the Father’s and way too big for her. It went down almost to her knees. In his rush, the Father has forgotten to tie Lily up again and she followed him down the steps, keeping a short distance between them. She had no memory of when or how she had gotten here. She just walked on, knowing it was away from that despicable room she had been used and abused in. She passed through an old bedroom full of junk and jumble. She picked up an old doll, black eyes looking back at her, unblinking, from a round plain face. She threw it with all her might against the wall, breaking the china doll into pieces.
Stumbling out into the hallway, she saw Nathaniel run out of a room and stop at the top of the
stairs. He fired the gun and then ran down. She didn’t feel scared. She didn’t feel elated that she had got this far without the Father touching her. She felt nothing. Lily carried on her morose journey down the stairs not knowing or caring where she was headed. Her head span as she walked down the stairs, spots of light floating in her vision.
Hearing the
gunshots and commotion, Amane, Joe, and Evan were getting more and more worried about what was happening. They had no idea what was going on upstairs. Joe called out for help but got no reply. Evan hopped his chair over to the study door. It was difficult but he made it, the rope painfully digging into his wrists every time he moved. A pitter-patter of feet ran past. Evan gripped his teeth around the door handle and levered it down, managing to open the door. Though it was only open an inch, he saw Nathaniel fly past to the cellar door and disappear inside, hearing him call out.
“Hey, boy, get back here!
You little fucker.”
More footsteps on the stairs, but this time, slower, more controlled. Through the
balustrade, Evan saw Lily float down the stairs in no hurry at all.
“Lily!”
He called out to her quietly, unsure if it was safe or not. At the base of the stairs, she turned around and smiled. His heart broke when he looked upon her. She could barely see through purple swollen eyes. Her smile showed bloody teeth and her nose looked slightly crooked. The Father had battered her, leaving deep welts, cuts and bruises all over. Fresh blood was seeping through the shirt she wore, down her legs.
“
Oh, Lily.”
Her smile dropped like a
stone, and ignoring him, she continued on her sloth-like way into the vestibule. She limped along, wobbling on her feet unsteadily. Evan realised she was heading for the front door.
“Lily!
No, come back!” he shouted at her, unafraid of the consequences or who might hear him. He didn’t know if she hadn’t heard him or was just choosing not to listen, but she entered the vestibule and the door swung loosely behind her. She turned the key in the lock, and with a click, the front door opened and she stepped outside into glorious sunshine. The warmth hit her instantly. Looking up through half-closed eyes, she saw the sunlight amid branches of tall green trees waving in the breeze. Her head felt lighter now and she forgot the incredible pain coursing through her frail body. She was back home, snuggled up on the sofa with her mum. It was warm and cosy here. She wrapped her arms around herself as her mum hugged her.
“Bedtime, honey.”
Her mum kissed her on the forehead and Lily felt happy.
Her mind felt nothing but peace and her body felt like it was floating on the wind. She was home.
The crowd of zombies swarmed over her
, killing her instantly. What little was left of her body was crushed and mangled beneath the weight of hundreds of zombies. When the first had tasted the blood it craved, it continued, unable to go anywhere else but further into the house through the welcoming, open door, followed by a hungry horde.
*
* * *
“We have to get the hell out of h
ere and now!” shouted Evan. He shoved the door shut and propped his chair against it.
“What’s happening
?” screamed Amane. “Where’s Lily and George?” She pulled at her ties only succeeding in making them tighter.
“I don’t know what is going
on up there, but it is not good. George just ran down into the cellar and Nathaniel was following. He’s the one shooting.”
“And Lily?”
“I’m sorry
, Amane.” Evan looked at her feeling impotent. “Whatever they did to her...she looked out of it. She’s gone.”
“What?” said
Amane.
“She’s gone. I’m sorry
, Amane. She just walked out the door. Whatever the Father did to her...”
Amane
screwed her face up and shook her head. “No. I can’t believe it. That bastard. That fucking mongrel is going to pay.”
“What else?” said
Joe. Despite events unfolding around them he was calm and in control. He aimed to size the situation up and deal with it. He had been in scrapes before and always got out of them. This was no different; think logically and put your emotions away for another time.
“In about ten seconds
, there’s going to be several hundred zombies in this house,” said Evan.
They were all silent.
The sombre mood was broken by faint gunshots and a few crashing noises from upstairs. No one spoke for a minute.
“I don’t think that door is going to hold them back
, do you?” said Joe, breaking the silence.
“Fuck!
” exclaimed Evan. He felt utterly powerless. His children were slipping out of his reach. The closer he tried to get, the further away they got.
“Ten seconds
, eh? Evan, stay against that door as long as you can. Put your weight against it,” said Joe, beginning to hop his chair up and down.
“Why? What are you thinking?” said Evan, leaning back so the chair jammed itself under the door-handle.
“I’m not thinking, I’m doing,” grunted Joe. His chair neared the fireplace and Evan got wind of his plan.
“No, Joe
, don’t. We’ll find another way.”
“We both know there is no other way.”
Joe nodded at them both, grim-faced, and then toppled his chair backwards as best he could into the fire. The top of the chair stuck on the fireplace and his back and hands hung over the flames. He gritted his teeth as the fire licked at his hands, and crucially, the ropes holding them. He was aware that Evan and Amane were shouting at him to get out, but their imploring cries were drowned out by the whooshing sound in his head. He howled as the pain grew more intense. Screaming, the flesh on his fingers caught afire and his skin began to melt. As he felt the white-hot pain searing into his brain forever, he forced himself to stay the course. He pulled his wrists apart as the burning rope finally snapped. With burning hands, he reached down and quickly untied the binding on his feet.
Tears and smoke stinging his eyes, he stood up and rushed over to the dining table,
knocking over his burning chair. He poured a solitary bottle of water over his hands, dousing the fire. Shaking uncontrollably, he slumped to the floor holding his black smouldering hands out in front of him. The distant yet insistent shouting voices of Amane and Evan stopped him from slipping into unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and looked up at them.
The door was jumping in its frame, rocking Evan back and forth in the chair. Joe took a deep breath and stood up. He let
the dizziness subside and focused on doing one thing at a time. Looking around, there was nothing he could see of use. He needed a knife or something to cut with, but he couldn’t go searching through the drawers now, there was no time.
He s
wayed over to Amane, and agonisingly slowly, started on the rope holding her wrists. His charred fingers were practically useless but he knew he had to get the ties undone. Ignoring the intense, excruciating pain, he finally released her and collapsed to the floor. Amane untied her feet and raced over to Evan, freeing him from his bonds. Evan pushed back on the door, holding it in place for now, blocking out the groaning sounds from the other side.
“
Oh God, Joe,” Amane tenderly picked him up. His hands were a mess. Where once strong hands had been, were now blackened stumps, measly strips of flesh where fingers had been. His breathing was slow and laboured. His shirt had turned a brown crisp shade and his back was red and blistered. Amane looked over to Evan.
“What are we going to do?”
“We go that way.” Evan looked through the windows into the empty courtyard. The house flanked it on three sides, a tall fence completing the fourth. It was a redundant abandoned space full of dead leaves and pools of dirty water.
“How?
To where?”
“Wrap Joe’s hands in those napkins over there. Then open the window and get outside. There’s
an ivy climbing up that wall so there’s probably a trellis we can use to climb up. We get onto the roof, over the fence, and take it from there.”
“And if there’s another hundred zombies on the other side?” asked
Amane.
“Then we’re no worse off than we are now.” Evan pushed harder against the door as the weight against it increased.
He heard the wood cracking and sweat was dripping annoyingly down his nose and forehead, stinging his eyes.