Killing the Dead (Season 2 | Book 1): Burden of Survival Read online

“The thing is, I’ve been watching him.”

  I felt the frown form as I stared at her. She’d been watching him?

  “Do you know what I did in my former life?”

  The sudden change of tack threw me a little and I shrugged. When she didn’t respond I answered in a quiet voice.

  “No.”

  “You recall my brother was a scientist?” she waited until I nodded before she continued. “His notes and samples are what I need to get to the naval forces in Scotland.”

  I knew all that. She’d told us when we first rescued her, how her military scientist brother was one of many working on finding a cure for the virus.

  “Well I was a journalist, a damned good one too. I had a blog and a fairly regular column.”

  “So?”

  “I was working on a story when things went to hell,” she said. “I was even going to make it part of a series that would become a book.”

  “What story?” I asked though a feeling of dread was slowly making its way through me.

  “It was a story about the serial killers of England,” she said. “I’d already written about the famous ones, Sutcliffe, the Wests and so on. I wanted to focus though on the ones that hadn’t been caught.”

  If any deity had been listening my glare would have cut right through her. I could see where she was going with this and I wasn’t amused.

  “There’d been rumours of people going missing in a town in the north of England,” Becky continued as she ignored my glare. “With some investigation online and after speaking with the local police I found the names of five missing people who I believe were murdered.”

  Seven I thought to myself. He’d killed seven people before I’d met him.

  “The thing is,” she said. “After speaking with your friends, I learned that you all met up in a refugee centre in that same town I was getting set to visit before it all turned to crap.”

  “Coincidence,” I muttered.

  “Possibly,” she agreed. “A hell of a coincidence though. Especially when you hear the other tales being told about your boyfriend.”

  “Get to the point,” I snapped.

  She looked at me, eyebrows raised in exaggerated surprise.

  “The point darling, is that I think I found the serial killer.”

  “Good luck finding any police to listen to you,” I said as I pushed myself to my feet and brushed off the seat of my pants.

  “Oh no,” Becky said. “You misunderstand. I don’t want to see him brought to justice, far from it. I want to warn you.”

  “Warn me?”

  “Yes,” she said with a look of pure malicious joy. “Haven’t you noticed he’s getting bored?”

  Chapter 9

  Ryan

  The mud stuck to my hiking boots and coated the lower part of my jeans. I couldn’t help but look back on my life before the apocalypse where I’d led a neat and ordered existence.

  Pat seemed indifferent to the mud as he tied up the boat on the lakeshore, his movements not hampered by the large rucksack he carried on his back. He had a faraway look and faint smile as he worked. Greggs’ grin stretched from ear to ear and I guessed he’d been told about his sisters’ condition too.

  Jenny was standing close by and tried to keep her face expressionless. For some reason she seemed to be trying to emulate me. I couldn’t complain, she’d proven useful and was fast becoming adept at slaying the zombies we encountered. When it came to live people though, she still showed reticence.

  The final member of our party was Gabby. She was irritatingly chipper more often than not and though she claimed she’d not known her loyal hound Toby had been sent to kill me by Rachel, I wasn’t so certain.

  “It’s about eight miles or so to Coniston so we should be there before it gets dark,” Gabby said.

  “That’s if we follow the road,” Gregg said pointedly. “That’s likely not the safest route though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Have you forgotten the zombies?”

  “We’ll see them coming and can leave the road if needed,” she protested.

  I caught Pat’s eye and he nodded in understanding before moving to stand between Gabby and me. With her distracted I set off at a brisk pace towards the road.

  Once there, I clambered over the moss covered drystone wall and began to climb the hill. It was steep but not so steep as to leave me winded. One of the few benefits of my post apocalypse life was the chance to do a great deal of cardio. I was in better shape than I’d ever been.

  Jenny followed along behind, her hand on the carving knife handle sticking through her belt and head turning constantly as she searched the undergrowth for any signs of a threat. I nodded approvingly, if she was going to stick near me then it was good to know she wasn’t going to get me killed by being stupid.

  The faint sounds of Gabby and Gregg’s argument could still be heard as I crested the hill and crouched down beside a birch tree. I breathed in deeply, senses alert for the stench of death that accompanied the zombies.

  From my vantage point I could just make out the road winding through the trees a short distance away and beyond that, the small cluster of houses that made up the village of Near Sawrey. We could bypass those houses, they’d been picked clean by us long ago anyway.

  Some way beyond that village was the smaller lake of Esthwaite water. We’d need to go around it to the north, through the town of Hawkshead. Another place we’d picked over quite completely over the winter months.

  The road from Hawkshead led straight through to Coniston though and that would be the quickest way. I hesitated at the thought of using it though. Even if we walked the road until we reached Hawkshead, it made sense to duck into the woods wherever possible as we approached our destination.

  If anything had happened there, then I didn’t want to blunder into it. Far better to take a little longer and approach cautiously. The people from Coniston were never late and like Lily, I was convinced that the reason for their not turning up was a cause for concern.

  Behind me the raised voices were moving closer and I looked back to see a red faced Gabby clambering up the hill. She was wittering on at Pat who responded in his usual monosyllabic way while Gregg followed behind keeping his eyes open for danger.

  They at least knew what they were doing and I could trust them not to screw up. The vet on the other hand was a problem.

  “What do you think…” she began.

  “Shut up,” I said. My voice was quiet and calm, no need to raise it yet. She stared at me in shock, thankfully silenced by my rude interruption.

  “Don’t you tell me…”

  “If you want to alert every zombie in the area, keep talking,” I said. “Just let the rest of us move away so that we don’t die with you.”

  The red in her cheeks darkened as she flushed and she pulled herself upright and tilted her head back as though to stare down her nose at me. I just smiled and she wavered.

  “You haven’t been on any scavenging trips have you?” I asked.

  “In Windermere,” she said. “Not since then though, no.”

  “We have,” I told her with a pointed look at each of my companions. “We know what we’re doing and how to survive. If you wish to be in charge of our little expedition that’s fine, I have no problem with that.”

  “Do not think for one second though that I will blindly follow your orders and end up dead. If you tell me to do something stupid, I won’t do it.”

  “Well, I am in charge…”

  “Yes, good for you,” I said and flashed her a quick mocking grin. “If you want to survive though, you should listen to us.”

  “Fine,” she snapped. “What do you suggest?”

  “Well first of all I would suggest you keep your voice low. Less chance of being noticed.”

  She nodded curtly as she crossed her arms across her chest. She wasn’t going to be easy to work with but if she became a real liability, there was nothing to say I needed to expend energy to keep h
er alive. I just couldn’t outright kill her.

  “The one thing you should have done before arguing about taking the road or the overland route, is take a look first,” I said as I pointed down at the road in the distance.

  Gabby followed the direction my arm was pointing and blanched as she saw the distant figures moving slowly along the road. Not many of them were in sight but one thing I’d learnt was that where there was one, there were others.

  “So not the road then,” she said.

  “Staying off the road will be safer,” I agreed. “Not by much though. You’ll need to stay alert.”

  She nodded and patted the heavy lump of wood that had been shaped into a rough club. Her fingers were white where she gripped the string wrapped handle and I saw her fear. One of the few emotions I did recognise and only because I’d seen it in my victims so often before.

  We set off walking down the hill and through the great old trees. Away from the lakeshore the ground hardened and we were able to walk over grass and heather rather than mud. It made the going a little easier, though not as much as a solid road would have.

  I took the lead with Gregg the rear, Pat and Jenny to either side while the less experienced Gabby stayed in the centre of our diamond formation. That satisfied me since I knew the other three would alert me to any danger and Gabby wouldn’t get me killed.

  Two hours of travel and we finally reached a point where we needed to come out from the cover of the woods and into the open. It was clear that our cross country route was a great deal slower than I’d imagined. At the rate we were going we’d be lucky to reach Esthwaite water before dark.

  Pat tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the road that ran along the far end of the open space. I gave a nod to let him know I’d seen them and settled back as he hefted his heavy lump hammer.

  I glanced at Jenny and caught her eye before pointing to the right. She nodded and tugged on Greggs arm before dashing along the edge of the open area, keeping low to the ground. I set off to the left with Pat following. Gabby tagged along behind us.

  Half way to the road the smell hit. Rotting meat and human waste. The urge to gag was always there when you first encountered the stench, no matter how many times you’d smelt it before. It always seemed to linger at the back of your throat.

  We reached the stone wall without being noticed and I glanced to my right to see Jenny and Gregg crouched with their backs against it further along. I risked a look over the wall and ducked back after a quick head count. At least thirty zombies.

  It wasn’t too many for us to handle, we could split their focus by attacking the group from both sides. The narrow confines of the road would work in our favour and so long as they didn’t make too much noise, we could do it without drawing the attention of more.

  I flashed a manic grin at Pat and rose to my feet. I was over the wall in seconds and my knife plunged through the skull of the closest zombie before they even knew I was there. Pat was beside me in an instant and moans rose ahead as Jenny and Gregg joined the battle.

  Dark blood sprayed as my knife buried to the hilt in the skull of a second zombie. I swore as it refused to come free as a third reached for me. Gabby hit it with her club as I placed one booted foot on the chest of the second and pulled at my knife handle. It came free with a slurping sound that even I found disturbing.

  A nod of thanks for Gabby was all I could do before misshapen fingers clawed at my arm. With a hard shove the zombie fell back against another and I stepped forward to deliver a killing blow. My knife went through the eye of a third, the temple of a fourth and my booted foot crushed the skull of a fifth. Then it was all over.

  Congratulatory smiles were shared by my companions as I looked inside and found, nothing. I was hollow. No joy, no pleasure, no more excitement than that provided by cutting logs.

  I spat to clear my throat and wiped my blade carefully on the tattered cloth worn by one of the zombies. It looked to have once been a shirt and wasn’t too soiled. The others cleaned their own weapons as best they could and without a word I set off away from the road.

  They soon followed on behind, their noise thankfully silenced as we aimed to once again avoid being noticed. I searched inside of myself as I walked but could find nothing. The hollow remained, a dark emptiness that threatened to consume me.

  Something needed to be done to fill that great empty hole. I had to do something and the only thing I could think of was to kill someone and soon. To feel the pleasure of taking a life, to watch as they died and finally feel something.

  With dark thoughts filling my mind we walked. Through the trees old and new, trampling heather and pushing through bramble and nettle. We walked in silence punctuated only once by the sharp exhalation as sharp thorns pierced Greggs clothing and tore his flesh.

  We approached the lake but avoided leaving the cover of the woods to walk along its shore. The road that ran by its side had more than one group of undead walking its length. More than I’d expected to find and a likely reason for why the Coniston people hadn’t shown up.

  Night was fast approaching and I knew we’d have to find somewhere to stay. Ordinarily it would be Hawkshead but so many of the zombies were headed that way that I didn’t think that was going to happen. Instead, I led them deeper into the woods, away from the lake.

  My idea was to find somewhere far enough away from the road that we were unlikely to have any zombies stumble into us in the dark. That was the idea anyway.

  “What the hell!” Pat said as we came upon the clearing.

  Further quiet exclamations came from the others as we all stared. I scanned the thick screen of bushes opposite us and listened, tense for any sign of ambush. When I was sure we were alone, I crouched down and picked up one of the hundreds of bones that littered the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Lily

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about?” I said. My heart beat increased as panic filled me and I didn’t know whether to slap her or scream.

  “Sit down,” she instructed and I reluctantly did so. “I don’t mean to imply he’s bored with you.”

  “Really!” I bet.

  “Not at all,” she said with a smug grin that I truly wanted to slap off of her face. “He’s bored with all this though.”

  Becky waved her arm in a gesture that encompassed the entire island and I glared at her as I waited for her to continue. I’d be damned if I was going to ask her to explain more of her nonsense.

  “One of the things I loved about my job was the research,” she said. Her sudden change of tack again was, I realised, designed to throw off the person she was talking to. I refused to play her game and waited for her to get to the point.

  “During my many long hours of research, I read a great deal about what made a killer,” she paused as though waiting for a response. I waited silently for her to continue. “Do you know why most of them get caught?”

  She seemed to require a response before she’d continue so I shook my head the barest amount I needed to. She still smiled as though she’d won a victory. Bitch.

  “They get caught because they can’t stop,” Becky said. “Whatever drives them to kill in the first place, and it can be any number of things. That urge grows and becomes more insistent. They lose their control and end up getting caught because they can’t hold back when they need to.”

  “He’s not like that,” I said. My need to defend him apparently greater than my need to not respond to the hateful woman.

  “Of course he is, they all are. In fact I’m surprised he’s held off so long while stuck on this island.”

  “Why? He wouldn’t kill anyone here.”

  “And why is that?” she asked. “I mean most of the sociopaths and psychopaths you find during a catastrophe take full advantage of other peoples’ misery. Why not your pet killer? Why isn’t he leading a band of thugs, raising hell with any survivors? Just what hold do you have over him?”

  She shook her head as though not expe
cting an answer and pressed on.

  “Whatever the reasons, he is behaving but its tearing at him,” she said. “He’s like a trapped animal and any day now he’ll turn on his captors.”

  “I know him, you don’t,” I said hotly. It was a struggle to maintain my grip on my temper. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “What do you see in him?” she asked, changing tack once again. “He’s handsome enough I suppose, but hardly a conversationalist or someone you can share your thoughts and feelings with.”

  “None of your business,” I snapped.

  “No doubt,” she said with a smile. “I considered asking him to come with us.”

  She smiled at my look of surprise and wagged a finger at me.

  “You have no need to be jealous,” she said. “It would have been purely for the protection he’d bring.”

  “Well go and ask him then, see how far that gets you.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “It was readily apparent that you are the reason he’s behaving. Whatever you’ve got over him is a leash I don’t share. There’d be nothing stopping him from turning on me.”

  It was my turn to smile. She ignored it and stretched before pushing herself up and leaning forward on the stone parapet wall that ran around the dome. She stared down at the people milling about and the bonfire of dead bodies that was still burning before turning back to me.

  “He’s struggling,” she said quietly. “I can see and so can others. It’s part of the reason they’re so scared of him. Somewhere inside of themselves is the knowledge that he’ll turn on them.”

  “But he won’t,” I said. He promised me.

  “The pleasure he finds with you,” Becky said. “Is nothing compared to that thrill he’ll get from killing; I imagine the zombies worked for a while but even they’re becoming uninteresting.”

  Despite myself I was starting to listen to her. She was making some kind of sense and he had been distracted lately, I’d seen that.

  “What will you do if he kills someone?” the sudden question took me by surprise and I blinked rapidly as I sought an answer.

  “He won’t,” I said but even I could hear how weak that sounded.