Hellspawn Odyssey (11 page)

“Shall we? We still have to reach the pub,” John asked, aware of the shadows moving on the carpet with the slow crawl towards night.

**********

It all had to be executed perfectly to give them a chance at survival. Kurt was poised by the fire exit; a quick peek had revealed about forty zombies to the rear of the building. None had climbed the metal fire escape staircase yet. Debbie was positioned at the window above the main entrance and Sam was below, they were to make as much noise as possible and tempt the horrors away from the rear as well as the steel roller doors which housed the two massive machines. Peter and Braiden were seated and locked in the cabs, engines idling, ready to trundle out on caterpillar tracks and crush the horde under a hundred thousand tonnes of compacted limestone. The interior doors had all been wedged open to give uninterrupted communication between them. With one final prayer, Kurt gave the signal and all hell let loose. Debbie screamed and shouted, baiting the zombies toward her position and Sam was beating on the door with a metal chair, resounding clangs echoing up the stairs. Kurt was poised like an Olympic athlete; hand on the push bar that would open the exit. He took deep breaths, attempting to keep his composure and waiting for the shout.

“Go! I love you!” John shouted, seeing the last of the dead rear guard head towards the entrance.

Kurt pushed through and saw the way was clear. He carefully descended, remembering the pain of his ankle from the last time he had rushed. More was riding on this than his own life and if he failed they would soon be joining the new species that ruled the world. The fence separated the two areas, beautiful peace and tranquillity on the lake and chaotic horror in the mines. He envied the swans as they bobbed around on the quiet water, carefree and lacking the faculties to understand the new order. The corner was reached and Kurt readied the hammer, with his short hatchet ready to be pulled from his belt in an emergency. Across a space of three hundred yards the dark mouths of the cave openings waited, still housing potential dangers that he would only discover when he stumbled across them. One more breath and he pinioned his arms, sprinting across the short distance.  His terrified mind started to play tricks and the gap seemed to elongate, stretching away into the far distance. Panic started to grip his heart, but it snapped back to normal as he was suddenly at the cavern opening. Shining the torch into the deep recesses he saw that it was safe as far as the beam would penetrate. Who knew what lurked within? His pause threatened to drag into permanent paralysis, but a shout brought him back.

“Get a fucking move on!” Debbie screamed, back to her usual charming self. He was grateful though for the kick in the pants. She and Sam both fell silent and now it was his turn.

“Hey, you putrid bastards! Grubs up!” Kurt yelled, “Come and get it, fresh and red, come on!”

He watched the massive swarm turn as one and commence their slow march for him, his bowels shrivelling. Talking through the plan had not prepared him for the reality as thousands of weeping eyes fixed him with their dead gaze.

“Sweet Jesus,” he muttered and backed into the black opening. His mouth was dry and he had to force a whisper. “Get a grip on yourself.”

He looked at the building that housed his whole life, clenched the hammer tight and carried on calling out. “Over here! Hey, come on!”

The hunger was upon them. Kurt backed away fully, knowing he had their undivided attention. The flashlight cut to and fro, picking out more columns that were set throughout the cave. The ceiling was moist and huge stalactites hung from the stone, dripping water that penetrated the limestone and forming sharp spears of mineral deposits. Similar spikes rose from the floor, one mistimed step would throw him onto one, impaled and ready to be devoured like an aperitif. Graffiti was sprayed on the stone by young vandals; intricate lettering and artistry in a multitude of colours, a modern take on the ancient pictures of hunting and survival. This particular mine had been long abandoned after all the easy rock had been extracted by craftsmen hundreds of years ago. The pillars were fragile.

An arm grabbed him and he stumbled, falling far too close to one of the stalagmites where he hadn’t been paying attention. The corpse was female and only the upper trunk remained, trailing intestines and guts behind her. Her arm had tripped him and she was frantically crawling, determined to mount and feed on Kurt. He kicked out and the flesh peeled away, revealing the rotting skull underneath. The zombie was undaunted by the blow and it climbed his legs, trying to bite, but the angle was wrong to find purchase. It continued up his body, aiming for the tender area between his legs. Kurt aimed with the hammer, missed and hit his own thigh, the pain shot through the limb and the half zombie took its first bite, catching the zipper and chewing down tight. Kurt screamed and hammered indiscriminately, trying to maintain his manhood. If he had to be a walking corpse, please let it not be as a eunuch. The final blow connected and the brain was destroyed, the head sagging into his groin; a welcome gesture from his wife, but not from the putrid half mess. He pushed it away in disgust, felt his genitals for reassurance and thanked God or whatever power had saved him.

The thronging mass was navigating the caverns, sensing his presence rather than seeing him. The torch had been thrown clear and the bulb was out, only the faint reflection of the light from the entrance catching the glass showed him where it lay. He grabbed it and fumbled for the switch, pressing the button and it blazed into life. The rear of the cave beckoned, empty and bleak. He knew where the shaft was, the iron rungs that had been embedded in the rock face for emergencies would take him to safety. Running toward the ladder he passed a bizarre sight; half burned black candles littered the floor and there was a pentagram drawn in the compacted dust of the floor. Satanic rituals had taken place at this spot and Kurt nearly laughed. He hoped that whoever they were, they were satisfied with their work. This really was a Hell on earth.

Barriers were placed around the ladder hole to prevent errant trespassers from falling in. The opening beckoned Kurt.

**********

“Ok,
Now
!” shouted John.

Sarah and Gloria heaved on the chain runners that opened the shutter doors. They rose, inch by inch, and Peter and Braiden revved their engines and crawled forward, ready to burst forth into bright daylight. The machines were clear and rumbling across the main courtyard, aiming for the solid stanchions. A small number of the dead remained nearby and Gloria raised the shotgun, aiming at the nearest. The barrel blazed and the skull was obliterated, she swung and the gun bucked against her shoulder, dropping another corpse. She cracked the stock, pulled the two cartridges out and threw them away. She loaded two more and readied herself, watching the spreading pools of festering green blood from the headless bodies. Sarah was joined by Sam and John and the three followed the JCBs picking off any stray abomination.

Braiden and Peter straightened out, matched each other’s speed and hit the cavern entrance columns at exactly the same time. Stone crumbled as the machines pressed forward, scattering the supporting pillars deep into the cavern. They backed away quickly, not wanting to be buried with the dead and waited. Nothing happened, the capping rock stayed put.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter yelled, looking at Braiden for ideas.

“Hit it again!” Braiden shouted back, opening his window to be heard over the growl of the engines. He raised the blade, shifted into forward and accelerated. He hit the hard cap with a massive thud and was quickly followed by Peter who did the same, crashing into the rock face. Cracks started to appear in the stone, splintering noises heralded the roar of an earthquake as the whole structure dropped into the void. The slowest of the dead who were returning to eat the drivers were pressed flat instantly; gore pouring from their openings before rock met rock. They reversed and watched the spectacle, seeing the whole outcrop sink, sagging and fracturing as the cavern was slowly filled with Kurt still inside.

“Please be safe, Kurt!” Sarah begged, shielding her face from the plumes of dust that billowed from the forever closed cave mouths.

*********

Kurt heard the shattering impact of the first strike and climbed down into the hollow opening. After his near miss it felt like he was crawling into the throat of a waiting beast, ready to close its jaws and eat him whole. He watched in shock as the dead closed on him, totally oblivious to the unfolding destruction behind them, the inner columns were exploding under the pressure of the collapsing roof. Debris was tearing through the massed bodies and shredding flesh from bone. The ceiling would be on him in any moment so he scrambled down, concentrating on speed as well as safety, gripping each rung tightly. Something hit him on the head and he thought the whole shaft was collapsing upon him. He was going to be buried alive!

A wet, crunching noise rose from the bottom and he was hit again, on the shoulder this time. Looking around he caught sight of the zombie dropping down, still reaching for him as it fell. Kurt looked upwards at the moving rock, several more bodies toppled in before it closed the shaft off forever, spilling a thick torrent of green juice from the squashed dead. He grasped the wall, trying to minimise his target but an outstretched leg caught him hard on the head, causing starbursts behind his eyes and threatening to pull him loose. The moans from below led him to think of two scenarios, either the shattered bodies of the jumpers were still alive, or the lower tunnel was filled with the dead, waiting to greet him.

“How the Hell did I not think of that?” Kurt asked, trying to stop his vision swimming.

He held out the torch, reluctant to aim the narrow beam down to reveal the answer, but procrastinating would get him killed just the same. The torch illuminated the broken pile of festering pus. There was nothing else at the foot of the shaft; what stalked the tunnels he couldn’t know until he was down, so he descended. Nearing the base, one of the rungs broke free, loosened by the shifting rock. Kurt lost his grip and plunged backwards. In slow motion he seemed to plummet, arms outstretched trying to grab at thin air. The fall was only nine feet and the soft, flexible pile of meat saved him from any fractured bones, but his wind was knocked out. Snapping mouths writhed under his body, biting at his life jacket and he flung himself clear, jumping as if electrified, struggling to fill his stunned lungs. The hungry eyes followed him with desire, but luckily their injuries kept them immobile. The mine stretched into the distance, the burrowed rock scored and chipped from the activities of the men and machines. Light bulbs were fixed along the ceiling, but without power they were just pretty baubles. The rumbling from the cave in was too loud for Kurt to know if there was a threat waiting ahead. He stood by the pancaked evil, trying to separate the sounds.

“Just move, get your ass in gear,” Kurt ordered himself and stepped around the slopping mess of gnashing teeth. At the first intersection the torch beam blinked out, the damage from the two drops finally breaking the bulb. The darkness was absolute; he tried to hold his hand in front of his face but there was nothing there. The sound of scuffing came from his right and he had no way of knowing what caused it, he held out his hand and it sunk into a wet, spongy, mobile obstacle. It groaned.

**********

“Wow,” Braiden said, awestruck at the collapsed mine entrance.

“Braiden, Peter, get back here, we need to load up the bags and get Kurt!” John yelled from the building.

Peter rolled backwards, turned, and headed for the door. The stragglers had been destroyed by the family before they could attack, the roar of the engines was an irresistible beacon to the dead. With the way clear, they hopped between clear patches of gravel and grabbed the bug out bags.

“The bucket!” Sarah shouted to Peter and he curled it, providing a perfect place to stow the bags while they rescued Kurt.

The group gathered behind the hulking beasts, the noise of devastation had brought dozens more zombies from deeper mine shafts that weren’t part of the huge, original excavation. Arms raised, they descended, hungry for the moist flesh. Braiden and Peter pulled together to protect their family, making a steamroller eighteen feet wide. It met the small crowd in battle, battering the bodies aside and dragging them underneath the wide metal tracks. Those on foot hung back, taking cover like soldiers following tanks during war. Using the cleavers from the farmhouse they hacked at the fallen dead, severing heads and slicing brains. They reached the first branch of road that snaked downwards, following the line of the concentric circles that had been blasted into the deeper rock. A sheer drop of more than fifteen feet separated each tier and around the edges were similar cave openings. The one which Kurt should be escaping from was just ahead. More cadavers were struck, falling from the precipice and bouncing from the lower ledge before continuing down in a sickening spiral of shattering bones and spilled guts. A couple just fell to the first ring, suffering only minor injuries and standing up outside the mouth that Kurt needed to exit the depths of the caves. Sam raised his slingshot and smashed the skull of the female while Gloria picked up the gun and shot the second. The spreading buckshot pulverised the face and head, causing it to pinwheel backwards, falling to join its splattered friends at the mine floor a hundred feet below.

“Where is he, he should be here by now!” Sarah yelled, frantically looking around for any sign of her husband. The others could only look on, hoping against hope that he would appear soon.