Family Matters: Season 2 Book 3 (Killing the Dead 9) (21 page)

He turned to look at me and I marvelled at the similarities between Bryan and his son. They both had dark hair, though Bryan’s was thinning, but the features were much the same and the older man was still handsome, though he had a few more wrinkles writing the story of his life across his face.

It was clear to see that he was a man who had laughed often throughout his life. Lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes told me that. But there was also a quiet dignity to him that, coupled with an air of command, made him someone you would listen to.

Ryan had something similar, though less mature. If he could truly start to care for strangers, for all people really, then that would be apparent and he would achieve greatness. Sadly, that was unlikely.

“We’ve lost some, yes,” Bryan admitted.

My legs trembled and I clutched the door frame for support as I sucked in a deep breath at the wave of pain that seemed to rush through me. Bryan noticed and reached out solicitously but I waved him away.

“Out there,” I said and gestured at the people gathered in the courtyard that I could see through the glass panels in the tea room doors. “Are people who have survived the worst thing that could ever happen to them.”

“They survived the rising of the undead, the attacks and the deaths of friends and loved ones. Now, they’re here and needing to rebuild their lives. They can’t do that by hiding away.”

“But by fighting, by killing,” Bryan said as he reached over to grasp the back of one of the plastic chairs and drag it forward to set it next to me. “That’s no way to live.”

I lowered myself into the chair and nodded my thanks to him before I continued. “We had a rough time at the beginning. I won’t go into everything because that would take time we don’t have.”

He nodded and reached back for another chair for himself, a kind gesture that allowed me to speak to him on the same level rather than have him looming over me.

“We thought we’d faced the worst when the zombies overran our safe place, our sanctuary. But we hadn’t,” I said. “Because when we thought we were finally safe, when we thought no one else would die, people came.”

Bryan’s look was understanding and he reached out to take my hand in his own as my voice caught and the memories came rushing back. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to, his very presence was a comfort.

“Friends died, were abused and tortured,” I said and didn’t wipe away the tears as the assault of those vile memories continued. “I took the lives of others, to protect those I loved.”

“And the pain of that is with you now,” Bryan said. “You’re suffering from that action and will do for the rest of your life. To take another's life is a sin that you cannot ever be forgiven for.”

I looked at him with wide eyes and he smiled in a kind way that seemed to say, he meant no insult or judgement by his words.

“We don’t need to be forgiven for doing what we had to,” I said as I pulled my hand from his. “
I
don’t need to be forgiven for protecting my friends. I will regret the need to do it forever, but no forgiveness is needed or wanted.”

“And I will pray for you,” Bryan said. “But I won’t force my people to fight against their will, to fight for you.”

“It wouldn’t be for me,” I said with heat rising in my voice. “It would be for you. To survive so that your children survive to live in a world where they don’t need to.”

“What happens is Gods will and we will not harm another.”

He said it with such conviction that I just stared at him, mouth hanging open. It was impossible to argue with someone like that, someone so determined to be a martyr.

“And when you survive this because others die for you, how will that make you feel?” I snapped.

“We will pray for their souls to find peace and thank them for their sacrifice,” he said.

“You sanctimonious prick,” I said and he smiled indulgently as though he understood something that I didn’t. “My friends, your son, will stand out there and die trying to make sure you all survive and you’ll sit in here doing nothing but wait for death.”

“We cannot fight our natures,” Bryan said. “My son doesn’t understand that. He has always struggled with the concept and I have always feared he would lose his way.”

“Your son is a better man than you will ever be,” I said quietly. “If you survive this, we will leave her without looking back and someday, sooner or later, they will come.”

“Who?”

“People. The kind who will hurt you, abuse you, steal what you have and even kill you for the pleasure of it. They will come and you won’t have us to protect you.”

“Then we will run from them and if we can’t run, we will pray to our Lord and accept our fate.”

“The undead aren’t people,” I said. A change was needed, another way to get through to him and it was perhaps my last chance to convince him. Besides, if he continued on as he was I would end up losing my temper.

“They walk amongst us,” Bryan said. “They must be part of Gods plan.”

“Why would they be?” I asked. “They are monsters that feed on the living.”

“But they died and came back. That has precedent.”

“Oh for goodness sake,” I said. “This isn’t a religious event, it’s something else.”

“Then what?”

“A virus, a parasite, an alien bug! I don’t know what it is but it isn’t your god.”

“I very much like you young lady,” Bryan said and I blinked, taken aback. “I think you’ll be a good influence on my son but in this you’re wrong. We won’t fight and we won’t kill.”

“Then we will all die, a miserable end that is wholly unnecessary.”

“We will gather here,” Bryan said as he patted my leg gently and rose to his feet. “When the gates open, we will be here, minds and hearts joined together in prayer. I would very much like you to join us.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I said.

He nodded, his smile gentle and kind. Then he walked away and just like that I was alone by the door, watching the preparations for the end.

I pushed myself to my feet, wincing at the pain from my wound as a sudden need to see Ryan came to me. I was in no state to fight and when they came for me, I wouldn’t be able to die with him and that brought more sorrow than anything else.

We’d both die alone, surrounded by the dead, separated from each other at the end. I wanted to weep.

Chapter 22 – Ryan

Preparations were almost complete and the people of the sanctuary that were willing to fight to survive gathered around. I looked at each of them, meeting their eyes and wondering what they expected from me.

They’d get no speeches, no impassioned words to get them ready to fight. Just silence that would match that of the grave, which is what most, if not all of us would find that day.

The cool day had turned cold as the breeze came to life, rising in strength and tugging at our hair and clothes. Carrying with it the first drops of rain, the vanguard of the storm that approached us. Dark skies above us and firm stone beneath our feet, it seemed fitting weather for what would come next.

A warm hand found my own, fingers interlocking with mine and I turned my head, just enough to see her, knowing it might well be the last time.

“I’ll be on the watch tower with Charlie,” she said and smiled at my expression. It was tight lipped and strained, but still had genuine humour behind it. “Oh, I knew what you and Pat were up to, but it won’t work.”

“We wanted you both to live,” I said. No apologies and no need to skirt the truth.

“Because you don’t think you will?”

“It seems rather unlikely,” I admitted.

“We’ll stay,” she said. “Cass agrees. We started this journey together and that’s how we’ll end it.”

“Seems a little pointless,” I said and she laughed. A rich and warm sound, full of life and joy.

“We wouldn’t get far on our own anyway. She couldn’t carry me and I’m in no state to walk for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“Fair enough,” I said but squeezed her hand in mine. For some reason, my mood was lighter knowing that she’d be near. I didn’t want to see her die but if this all went to hell, then I’d be dead long before that happened anyway. “Still no chance you’ve changed your mind and want to run for it?”

She shook her head and pulled an errant strand of damp hair from her face. No way would she leave these fools without trying to save them and I wouldn’t leave her. Seemed such a waste of my life though to die for someone else.

“Charlie’s in place?” I asked.

“Everything’s set.”

I eyed the gates. The great piece of wood that served as the locking bar was bowed outwards and had already started to break with great splinters of wood sticking out. A noticeable gap had appeared between those gates with blood and mangled flesh pushed through by the weight of numbers behind.

The sky above was covered in grey clouds that were darkening further with each passing moment. The winds blew steadily as the rain grew heavier.

“Screw waiting,” I muttered before I raised my voice and shouted, “Get into position.”

All around the people scurried into their places. Faces pale with fear but set in determination. I turned to Lily and in a rare moment of weakness, leaned in to place my lips firmly against her own. For several long moments, I let my control slip, gave in to my need for her, a need that I had begun to acknowledge was as great as that to kill. She responded in kind.

“To your tower,” I said, my voice cold as I pulled away from her. Recognition dawned on her face as she realised that I’d just said goodbye and with damp eyes she walked away, Cass moving in to help hold her steady.

Jinx, looked up at me. She’d spent most of the day resting and seemed to sense the battle to come. She’d not left my side since I’d gathered my weapons. I nodded towards Lily’s retreating back but the dog ignored me, choosing instead to stay beside me.

I surveyed the defences rather than watch her leave, focusing on what I hoped would happen and all the things that could go wrong.

In the great hall behind us, barricaded inside the tea room, were the fifty odd people who either were unable to fight or outright refused. When the time had come, nine of them had decided to fight which bolstered our numbers a little, but nowhere near enough.

We had nearly thirty people and a natural bottleneck with the gate. I intended to use that to our advantage.

Tables, chairs and anything else we could find had been laid out in the courtyard, forming the two sides of a corridor leading from the gates almost to the main building. The majority of our people would line the sides of the barrier with their weapons in hand and smash the skulls of any zombies that came close.

At the end of that corridor, three of the larger men stood with shields and nothing else. They would hold those centuries old shields and use them to keep back any undead while Gregg and Reece would use the two spears to hopefully good effect. Using the length to strike over the shoulders of the shield bearers.

On the right-hand side, Caleb and one of his trusted people would watch their side of the barrier and deal with any places that seemed to be struggling while I would do the same with Pat on the left.

My hope was that the pressure of the undead behind pushing forwards, would mean that the first zombies through the door wouldn’t be able to linger in one place but if they did, that’s when the four of us would dash forward and thin the herd.

I was fairly confident that tactic would work with the Shamblers, but the Ferals would be a problem which is why I wanted to be able to stay close to the gates and strike at any that tried to break through the barrier. It certainly wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one we had.

Caleb glared at me from across the barrier, the majority of his people were on his side since I had no intention of fighting anywhere near them. Other faces, Gabriel, Becky even the deaf girl Emily and more people I didn’t know, turned to look at me as I passed. Hope warred with terror there as they clutched their weapons in sweaty palms. I ignored them, many if not all would be dead soon enough.

Pat nodded as I joined him and raised his mace. A spike studded iron ball on the end of a solid wooden handle about two feet long. With his strength, he’d put it to good use. I had my combat knife in my left hand, claw bladed knife in a pocket and an axe in my right hand. A borrowed jacket that was too large for me was my only armour.

The axe, apparently, was a replica of a horseman's axe. It was short hafted, two feet in length with a curved head of blackened steel. A spike stood out four inches from the opposite side of the head and a thin strip of steel was bolted along either side of the handle to protect against cuts to the wood. Not really a problem I expected, but it felt good to have a little bit of reach and stopping power.

A crack reverberated around the courtyard and the timber locking bar split further, the gates pushed open wider by the massed zombies. Their stink seemed to seep through that gap and assault our senses, while their moans set one's teeth on edge.

“Get ready,” I said to my friend as a second crack cut the air. “Here they come.”

The wood burst apart, the doors swinging wide and they were through, death, riding a wave of walking corpses.

Chapter 23 – Lily

Pain tore through me and my legs trembled as I gripped the parapet to hold myself upright, determined to see, to witness what would unfold.

Those great wooden gates, thick and old, swung inwards as they came through. Grey skin, stumbling and pushing against one another, mindless in their hunger, their need to feed on the flesh of the defenders in the courtyard.

The first few fell, the force of all those behind pushing them over and trampling them beneath their feet. A minor stumbling block for those behind, they rushed at the closest people, arms stretched out, reaching for them.

“Stay calm!” Ryan snapped as his axe crashed down on the head of a zombie that reached for a tall, slim man in his thirties who stepped back at its approach.

He pushed the man back into place with one hand as he yanked free the axe head with the other and battle was joined.

Six, ten, fourteen zombies fell to our weapons as they were pushed along from behind, along the corridor we’d set up. I stopped counting as the mass of limbs and bodies became too thick to clearly see details of what was happening.