Fear the Reaper Read online

It was also clear that they didn’t see any need to kill those trapped in buildings. More than once, I caught sight of movement in the office buildings we moved past. Stained windows were a good indication that something covered in blood had pressed against them and many of those buildings bore such stains.

  Cars filled the roads and each and every one of them was empty. If their occupants had turned, they had been killed and dumped beside the road along with all the others. Whoever was in charge of the Dead was efficient if nothing else.

  By noon, we’d had no contact and Jennings gave the order to rest. We settled in beside a tall building that had once housed a law firm and took a moment to sort through our packs for a simple snack.

  I’d just managed to pull some food free for Jinx when, with a jerk of his head, Jennings indicated for me to join him. I swallowed the mouthful of water I had and slipped the bottle back into my pack before heading over to join him.

  “Captain?”

  “No sign of these people yet,” he said. “Did you get any indication of where they might be found?”

  “Lieutenant Macintosh was clear, sir. Whenever they left the buildings, the Dead found them.”

  “The Dead!” he shook his head. “What kind of group are we dealing with here?”

  “A capable one, sir,” I said with a meaningful glance at the piled bodies.

  “Perhaps so,” he agreed. “We’ll continue on into the city. By sixteen hundred, I want to start looking for a likely place to hole up for the night.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Back to your men, we leave in two minutes.”

  Not enough time for me to get out any food, unwrap and eat it before setting off. Great! I headed back to the others and let them know they had a couple of minutes left. They immediately began to pack up whatever they weren’t eating and gather their equipment.

  “Here,” Gregg said as he handed me a piece of dried and salted fish. “Figured you wouldn’t have time to eat.”

  “Thanks,” I said taking it from him.

  While I couldn’t say it was particularly tasty, it was one thing we had in abundance. Since half our fleet was made up of fishing boats, they were out daily catching the fish that we used to extend the life of our rations.

  Dried and salted, it would keep for a reasonable amount of time when on a mission, so it had become a staple of the CDF. Once you got used to the taste, it wasn’t at all bad.

  The order came to move out and we set off once again. Moving in single file, keeping silent to avoid bringing more attention than we could bear. The city streets, choked with weeds and the mounds of bodies, abandoned businesses and empty cars, soon gave way to a residential district.

  Four-storey buildings of red brick and grey tile. They were long terraces that formed a rectangle, with shared gardens in the middle where they were shielded from view giving the residents some privacy. Block after block of them, a seemingly endless number of homes slowly rotting along with their occupants.

  Wind would tear at those tiles while water seeped into the cracks in the walls. When the winter came, the water would freeze widening those cracks until one day, the walls would start to fall. Glass would warp and crack, and the gardens would grow wild as nature reclaimed the world.

  It was easy to see that no matter what we did, our time was done. By the time we numbered enough to reclaim a fraction of the green and pleasant land of England, it would have all fallen into ruin. It was enough to make me want to weep.

  “Zombies,” Gregg said. “Fuck! A lot of them.”

  I swore softly beneath my breath, all too aware of how I had let my thoughts drift and how dangerous that could be. Since I’d spoken to Lou. Since he’d told me about what had happened, my mind hadn’t been focused and that was a problem.

  “How many?”

  “Shit! Forty maybe fifty?”

  “Form a line,” Jennings snapped as Boyes and Marshall raced back towards us.

  We were caught between two blocks of buildings. They towered over us on either side while behind us we had open streets and nowhere to hide. The cars abandoned on the road meant our squads had to separate.

  Jennings took the east while I took the west. Standing in line with my squad, legs braced and arm raised with my buckler held before me and my poignard ready to strike.

  “Behind us!” someone called and I glanced back, eyes growing wide as more of the undead spilt into the street.

  Mark pulled sheathed his weapon and pulled free his sidearm. A Glock 17 whatever the hell that meant. It was compact, black and rectangular with seventeen rounds. Which meant that if they were able to make headshots for each of those rounds, we might have a chance.

  “Holster that weapon!” Jennings yelled across to us as he led his squad to our side of the road. “Two lines, back to back. We’ll have a chance.”

  “Captain,” I began but he cut me off.

  “No! One shot gets fired and we alert everything in the area.”

  “Won’t bloody matter if we die, will it?” I snapped back but he ignored me.

  Indecision clawed at me. As much as I wanted to do what I thought was best, I had signed on to the CDF in good faith, knowing that I would have to obey those ranked above me. No matter how much it grated.

  “Brace yourselves,” I said to my squad. “This is gonna be rough.”

  Chapter 7

  They pushed and shoved at each other in their haste to reach us. Slow and stupid, they had no concept of working together. Just an insatiable need to feed and that was the one thing that might save us.

  I screamed as they hit our waiting bucklers, pushing us back against those behind who were, in turn, forced back against us. Pain shot through my arm as I fought to hold it firm against the chest of those pushing against it.

  My arm shot forward, the point of my weapon piercing an eye. It slumped against me, unable to fall as those behind kept pushing against it. I stabbed out again and again. Reaching over the head and shoulders of those being pushed against me.

  Blood filled the air, as steel was yanked from flesh and a scream sounded behind me as someone fell beneath the ravenous teeth of the undead.

  “Close ranks!” Jennings yelled to be heard above the screams of the man dying one bite at a time.

  I pushed with all the strength I had, trying desperately to shove back some of those pushing against us. To no avail. There were too many.

  “Use your gun!” I commanded but it was too late.

  They were too close, hands clawing at us, their stench assaulting our senses and angry moans of hunger filling the air. I could barely move, barely breathe as I stabbed out again and again. Fear ran through me and I yelped as a hand grabbed at my ankle.

  I kicked out, unable to shake it free but then Jinx was there, her teeth tearing the hand free and I gave silent thanks to her for guarding my legs as I concentrated on those before me.

  Another scream. Female this time and that lasted for barely a second before it trailed off in the twisted gurgle of a blood filled throat. I’d promised I’d keep her safe.

  My poignard sank into the cheek of a zombie and I drew back my arm to strike again, only to stop as it fell without a sound. A black masked face stared back at me from where it had been and then it was gone.

  The pressure against us lessened, the dead falling away as those behind stopped pushing and as the bodies fell I got to see what was happening.

  He moved like he was part of some elaborate dance. Every step placed perfectly, arms moving so that each strike he made found a target. No single motion was wasted. Dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans, the cloth hood over his face and a knife in either hand, he was like an angel of death moving amongst the zombies. Where he walked, they died.

  With the pressure gone, we struck back at the few remaining and as soon as they were finished, turned to help Jennings and his squad.

  I stopped, arm raised to strike and just gawped at the handful of people in black who stood staring silently at u
s. The ground around us was littered with bodies and I wanted to fall to my knees and weep as I gave thanks for their intervention.

  Suraya’s dead eyes stared up at me accusingly and I had to turn away. We were too used to losing people and it barely warranted a mention from most people. Someone died, you accepted it and maybe mourned later. I wasn’t ready to be like that, not yet.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Jennings demanded.

  There was no response, the gathered people in black just stared at us silently. I glanced back over my shoulder at the lone man behind us and found that he too was staring straight at us, or perhaps at me.

  “Answer me, damn you!” Jennings said and I remembered what Lou had told us.

  “Who speaks for the dead?” I called out and it was the Captains turn to gawp at me.

  He opened his mouth to rebuke me but I waved him to silence as one of the group before him stepped forward and a woman’s voice answered.

  “I speak for the dead.”

  For some reason, I’d been sure the man behind me would have been the leader. I shook that thought aside as I focused my attention on her.

  “Thank you for your help.”

  “Do you speak for the living?”

  The woman, for I was sure that is what she was, despite the shapeless leather outfit, cocked her head as she studied me and I nodded, mouth dry before I said, “Yes, I speak for the living.”

  “Here now,” Jennings said but was ignored, his face darkening in fury.

  “Leave here,” the woman said. “This is a place for the Dead.”

  “Wait,” I said as she began to turn away. “We want to speak to you. To whoever’s in charge.”

  The silence stretched taut as the woman gave me a hard stare and I was suddenly all too aware of the knives they still held and the easy way in which they had dispatched those undead.

  “You seek Death?” she asked finally and I swallowed hard as I eyed the knife in her hand.

  Something told me to be very careful with my answer. Jennings again opened his mouth to speak but I shook my head at him and licked my lips before I said, “Yes.”

  I was somewhat surprised when she nodded sharply and said, “follow.”

  The others turned as she walked past them, following along in her wake and still relieved that she hadn’t just killed me as I’s half thought she might, I brushed past Jennings and followed her. My squad fell in behind me and a furious Jennings followed suit.

  “Jinx,” I said when I realised she wasn’t following.

  When I glanced back, she was watching the strange man, head tilted to one side and nose to the air as though searching for a scent she thought she recognised. The man she was studying paid her no heed as he knelt down and plunged a knife into the skull of Suraya and then the other fallen member of Jennings squad.

  “Jinx!” I called again and she trotted over to me, looking back more than once at the man.

  Odd behaviour from an already odd canine, but I put it from my mind. If she considered him a threat then she would let me know and I had enough to worry about. I should have thought about making sure our dead didn’t rise for one and Jennings was sure to remember the perceived insult he’d just received for another.

  I exhaled a soft sigh and hoped wherever they were taking us wasn’t far away. I just wanted to sit down for a moment and stop shaking. I’d almost died. My squad had almost died. Suraya had died. One of my few remaining friends had very nearly died and I couldn’t bear the thought of Cass losing another loved one. I should have insisted he stay behind.

  We walked for an hour before we came to the first of them. He’d been stripped naked and hung from a lamp post upside down. Someone had cut the word, ‘RAPIST’ into his flesh and left him to die. At some point after death, he’d returned to life as a zombie and a moan escaped him as we passed him by. The Deadmen didn’t so much as glance at it.

  “What the hell?” Gregg said in a low whisper for my ears alone.

  “Keep alert,” I replied and placed my hand on my own weapon.

  He wasn’t the last. There were others, all with something cut into their flesh. Murderer, child killer, coward, thief, raider. Each of them left to die and eventually turn, a stark warning to others. I glanced at the black-garbed men and women escorting us and had a shiver run through me. Just what sort of people were they?

  I had another inkling of just what type of person we were dealing with as we approached their base.

  “Smart,” I said as Gregg let out a low whistle.

  “Did you know about this?” he asked and I shook my head. It hadn’t come up in the briefing.

  A terrace of shops ran along a high street and above them, four floors of storage and apartment space. I couldn’t see the back obviously but I was pretty sure there’d be easy access and ample sight lines just like the front.

  More to the point, there was an opening beside one of the shops. A gaping black maw leading through the buildings with the words ‘Kelvinhall Subway’ written above it. A metal gate had been pulled across the front and secured with several padlocks.

  I could practically sense the amusement from the man behind me as more black garbed figures stepped into view. As I glanced at the surrounding buildings, I caught sight of several in the windows looking down on the street.

  Piles of bodies, higher than any we had seen so far, lined the streets and at either end, cars had been moved into position to form a rough barrier, preventing access to most zombies. I glanced back at the man behind me, sure somehow that I was speaking to the right person even if he wasn’t technically speaking for the dead.

  “You have access to the subway from inside the building, don’t you?”

  He didn’t reply but simply raised his arm and pointed towards the open door of a clothing store beside the subway entrance. The other black garbed figures filed inside and with a shrug, I followed.

  It came as little surprise to me when I was led through the building and out of the side door towards the back. We stepped into a wide-open space with a vaulted ceiling and stairs that led down into the subway proper.

  The only illumination came from the flickering light of lanterns held by several of the silent figures. Dozens of whom, stood in rows, all facing forward towards a single man seated on a chair. Hanging from the ceiling, were zombies.

  More of them than I’d expected to see and each with a single word carved into their flesh. They moaned and writhed, creating a horrendous sound that echoed around the open space. Like an unholy chorus of the damned, they seemed oddly fitting for the place.

  “Fucking serial killers wet dream, this is,” Ray muttered and I looked over to Gregg.

  He shook his head as he gave a half-shrug of his shoulders and it was clear that he wasn’t as certain as he had been the day before. Neither was I.

  A corridor opened between the standing figures as they moved silently aside and the woman who had spoken pointed at the seated man.

  “Death awaits.”

  I wiped damp palms on my coat before taking a firm hold on the hilt of my poignard. I had no idea if she meant the man was going to kill us or if he was supposed to be Death, but I was about to find out.

  We moved through the ranks in a silence broken only by the soft moaning of the zombies hanging above us. My companions, my squad, were nervous. Their eyes shifting this way and that, their hands on their weapons, ready to draw them at a moment’s notice. Not that I thought we would fare well against the gathered people.

  Jinx, at least, seemed at ease. She moved slowly, her nails clicking on the floor as her tail wagged slowly from side to side. I had a growing suspicion about who we were about to meet and my heart beat faster in my chest as I dared to allow a little hope to grow there.

  The seated figure rose to his feet as we stopped before him, spreading out into a thin line. His head moved, eyes searching our faces from beneath his black hood and I stared hard at those eyes, looking for some sign of recognition.

  “Who sp
eaks for the living?” the man said and my stomach lurched as I heard a voice I didn’t recognise.

  Gregg nudged me, and with a start, I said, “I do. I speak for the living.”

  “Step forward.”

  I took a single step, the scuff of my boots on the floor the only sound to be heard and he looked me up and down.

  “Why do you seek Death?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The question is not clear?” He asked, head cocked to one side as he studied me.

  “Are you supposed to be Death? Or are you trying to say you’re going to kill me?”

  “Morgan!” Jennings hissed but I waved him away dismissively.

  I’d allowed myself to hope that the madman in charge of these others would be someone I very much wanted to see once again. Someone I very much hoped was alive and I’d had that hope dashed. I wasn’t in the mood to play games and I just wanted to go somewhere quiet and mourn my loss.

  “Who are you people?”

  “We are the Dead,” he said calmly, still watching me.

  No! not just me. His eyes would dart behind me, just for a moment, barely noticeable at all.

  “Who are the dead? What do you want? What are you trying to achieve?”

  “We protect the living.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Death came for us and found us wanting,” he said. “Decided we needed a purpose.”

  “But, I thought you were Death?” I said. “Did you find yourself wanting?”

  “Do not mock me, woman!”

  The anger in his voice was very real and I was all too aware of those gathered at my back but I was pretty sure he wasn’t the one I should be talking with.

  “Or what?”

  “Lily,” Gregg said warningly as the black-garbed figure pulled a knife.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I asked. I eyed the knife and swallowed hard as I licked dry lips and forced myself to meet his gaze. “Doesn’t that go against your whole purpose?”

  A heavy sigh sounded from behind me and Jinx’s ears perked up as she looked around, I fought back the smile that threatened to come, not allowing myself the chance to be hurt once again.