Killing The Dead (Book 17): Siege

  Siege

  Killing the Dead: Season Three Book Five

  By Richard Murray

  Copyright 2019 Richard Murray

  All Rights Reserved

  All Characters are a work of Fiction.

  Any resemblance to real persons

  Living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Some scenes are based on real locations that

  have been altered for the purposes of the story.

  Chapter 1

  Two men came out of the darkness, thick clubs of aged wood in their hands as they rushed at me. I exhaled slowly and raised my own, twin, wooden batons and waited.

  The first swung high and I ducked low, sliding past him as I lashed out with the baton in my right hand, striking the back of his leg as I spun, hitting him low in the back with the other. He grunted in pain, hitting the floor hard as I met the other.

  I parried his attack, deflecting the club away from me and jabbed him in the stomach. As he doubled over, I rapped him sharply on the side of the head and he collapsed without a sound. I sucked in a fresh lungful of air as three more attackers appeared.

  There was no point waiting for them to reach me and so, I set off at a run towards the first. Slipping past his weak attack and sending him to the floor with three quick blows that likely cracked a rib.

  A club thumped against my left shoulder and I spun away to the right, buying myself time to recover from the stinging pain. My assailant followed me, grim determination on his face. I grinned and launched myself at him.

  I ducked beneath his next swing, stepping in and striking him in the gut, first with the baton in my right hand and then next with the left. He gasped as the air was blown from his lungs in one burst and had a moment of surprise before the baton in my right hand sent him tumbling down into the darkness of unconsciousness.

  The third assailant didn't hesitate, leaping at me, feet first. I went sprawling, the batons spinning away across the polished wooden floor. I rolled away as his club came down against the floor where my skull had been moments before and came up to my feet, legs braced, and fists clenched.

  He swung the club and I gritted my teeth as I took the blow with my left forearm, stepping forward and hammering my other fist into his face. Blood sprayed from his nose and he recoiled, staggering and off balance for just a moment, but long enough for me to slam my forehead against his jaw.

  I sucked in a breath as he collapsed, chest heaving with the exertion. I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck to the side as the final assailant arrived for battle. A hulking bruiser who had a couple of inches of height and an extra foot of reach on me.

  He carried a bat in one hand, twirling it as a child would a pencil and I had a moment's doubt. My eyes flicked to the side, searching for my own weapons. The air, cold on my sweat-slick skin was almost pleasant as a door opened behind me.

  I darted to the left, dropping to my knees and sliding across the floor to grab the nearest baton. It wasn't fast enough and I was clipped by the bat, hard enough to knock me to the side and break the skin over my right eye.

  Lily would be pissed if that left a scar.

  He swung again, heavy bat hitting the floor as I leapt forward, tucking my shoulder and rolling back to my feet, baton in hand. I flashed him a grin and swayed back, barely avoiding the swing of his bat.

  We circled each other, each watching for weakness as we weighed each other up. He had all the advantages. I was tired from taking out the other five and to be fair, I was running on empty most days anyway.

  Having twin babies was not exactly conducive to a good night’s sleep.

  He also had the bigger weapon and the longer reach to start with. For me to even hit him, I would need to step inside that reach and that was a risk. I eyed his overly muscled arms and imagined that if he wanted to, he could do a fair bit of damage.

  Without warning, he darted forward, bat lashing out and I leapt back, ribs aching from the blow. I scowled as his laughter echoed around the room. We continued to circle one another.

  I was ready the next time he darted forward and cracked his knuckles with my baton as I spun away from him. He grunted but didn't release the bat. I could admire that discipline another time, just then, it annoyed the hell out of me.

  Bracing myself, I sucked in a breath and ran at him, his bat slammed against my shoulder as I dropped my guard and his look of glee vanished, his eyes widening in pain as my baton rose up between his legs.

  He dropped to the floor, bat falling away as he grasped his balls with both hands, moaning in pain. I staggered a little, my left arm hanging limp as I waited for feeling to return.

  "That was a low blow, mate," Gregg called from where he had been watching with the rest of my gathered minions.

  I flashed him a grin as I wiped blood and sweat from my brow. "Set em up, let's go again."

  Gregg looked around at the minions that were lifting themselves up from the polished floor of the gym and he shook his head.

  "Maybe you need to take a break."

  "No."

  He didn't understand. How could he? I had been confined to, first, the Isle of Lewis for nearly five months and since then, the Isle of Mann for almost three. Winter had descended upon us with bitter gales and heavy snow and I hadn't killed anyone in eight months.

  The almost constant training I had been doing was the only thing keeping me from doing something I shouldn't. I needed the violence, the pain, the victory of beating my opponents. I needed the chaos of the fight.

  It was nowhere near enough to quench that thirst for murder or to still that roiling ball of darkness within my core. But it was enough to keep me focused on not breaking my promise, on being the man Lily deserved and not the killer I was.

  "Ooooh, Clever Bastard," Isaac moaned from where he lay on the floor. "I'll need a minute, but then I'll go again."

  I bet he would, I thought with a grin. He wouldn't let that go without some comeback. A good man in a fight and one that had taught me a few things over the past few months. I'd been sparring with him often as he wouldn't even consider holding back as my minions would.

  "My Lord Death," Samuel said and my shoulders slumped a little at the tone he was using.

  The stick-thin figure was glaring at me as I turned, and I widened my grin as I knew it would annoy him. The black hair that stuck up wildly, defying any attempt at brushing, was damp from the melting snow and his nose was red.

  "Yes, Samuel?"

  "Perhaps you have trained enough for today."

  I gave him a considering look. He, more than any of the others, seemed to understand why I needed to do it. He was the one who ensured the minions I faced didn't hold back, which at first they had tried to do despite my explicit order.

  It seemed that if I asked them to cut off a finger they would do it in a heartbeat, no hesitation. But if I asked them to try to harm me, they would baulk. It was a weird thing they did, like when I told them I had no need of guards. Still, they would loiter in my general area, guarding me without actually disobeying my order.

  Irritating at times, but Lily assured me that it meant they were loyal which helped calm my more paranoid thoughts. Sometimes, anyway.

  "There is other business to attend."

  "Oh? Such as?"

  Samuel looked around at the gathered minions and to my surprise, slowly walked forward so that only I could hear his words. That was beyond unusual and I watched him curiously.

  "Tomorrow will be a long day. You should rest."

  "Why? I don't care who will be elected. If it is one of the candidates that wishes us to leave, then we shall leave."

  "Perhaps, Lily would appreciate your company. It cannot be an easy
time for her."

  I shrugged, losing interest. Lily had decided to stand down as leader of the refugee nation, fulfilling her promise that she would hold power only until the people were safe. It was her choice to make and while it had led to a crop of candidates that were less than ideal, I supported her decision.

  Some of those candidates had made it very clear that if they were elected, their first order of business would be to have my little death cult removed from the island, with force if necessary. That idea had amused me for quite some time.

  The other candidates had been a little more willing to allow us to stay but with some restrictions. I understood why, after Lily explained it anyway. They were scared of us, more so because we were growing in number.

  In the past eight months, we had gone from a little over two hundred to almost six hundred. I wasn't the only one that had been training constantly either. Those six hundred men and women were fast becoming a lethal force.

  Some of the island inhabitants were scared by that. Even though there was no way any of my minions would harm a living person without good reason, still they feared us. I was okay with that. If they feared us, then they would stay away and allow us to do our job.

  Which was, admittedly, another sore point. My minions left the island and returned with supplies or survivors. I had not had that same option for some time.

  "Again," I said loudly. "We will start with three, then four, then Isaac and one other."

  "As you will, Laddie," Isaac said. He walked with an exaggerated limp, across to where Gregg stood.

  The other minions began to gather themselves together. Some new ones replacing those that needed a little more time to recover.

  "You will do no one any good if you harm yourself doing this!" Samuel snapped, voice low so that none could hear him berate me.

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him and set my jaw stubbornly. "I need this."

  "Yes, My Lord Death. I know and understand. But we need you too and if something were to go wrong and you were injured..."

  "Won't happen," I replied with a grin as I allowed a hint of the killer to enter my eyes.

  Samuel stared hard into my eyes, searching them for a long moment before he nodded abruptly and spun on his heel. He strode towards the door, the minions there pulling it open and allowing a blast of icy wind to blow snow inside.

  I watched him go for a moment before turning back to the gathered minions. One passed me my other baton and I nodded as I hefted it in my hand.

  "Begin!"

  Chapter 2

  “This is ridiculous!” Evie snapped as she stared out of the window at the falling snow.

  “It is what it is,” I said, calmly as I leant back, a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a careful eye on the twin bassinets beside the soft fabric sofa. “One could almost imagine that you were concerned for him.”

  She turned to glare at me which only made me smile. In the past half a year, I had become close with Ryan’s sister and since having the twins, had appreciated her desire to be in their lives. Her son, Lucas, was with his grandparents for the night and that had allowed her the opportunity to visit her niece and nephew.

  Which I couldn’t blame her for. They were, after all, adorable. Admittedly as their mother, I was biased, but it was fair to say that I wasn’t the only one that considered them to be so.

  “How many nights will you sit here while he is out there getting beaten half to death in some toxic need to assert his manhood!”

  I cocked an eyebrow and tilted my head as I gave her a wry smile. She knew him better than most and couldn’t possibly believe that was what he was doing.

  “Fine,” she muttered, giving up. “I know why, but it’s not healthy. He should be here helping you.”

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and pouted in a way that actually made her look prettier than she already was. I could understand her frustration and I had more than a little of my own about Ryan’s activities, but I was realistic about them at least.

  “Do you really think I need help?”

  Her lips twisted at that and then she laughed as she shook her head, dark hair falling loosely around her face.

  “No. I guess not.”

  Between my boyfriend’s mother, father and sister, I would have been covered for help. When you added in Cass, Gregg, Samuel and any number of black-garbed death cultists who had allowed a little of their reverence for Ryan to cross over to his children; well, I was pretty well taken care of.

  Since moving to the town of Douglas on the Isle of Man, things had been good. No, better than good. They were pretty great. In just over two months, we had managed to get people settled in and the last of the undead cleaned out.

  The CDF had taken over policing the island along with the distribution of supplies, while the Royal Navy engineers had done an incredible job with getting the water and power on. Still no gas, but they were working on that too.

  When we had arrived, my preference had been for a small home where I would be able to live with Ryan and our children. It had soon become readily apparent that that wouldn’t work. Since I was in charge of the government and he had his death cult, we both needed extra levels of security.

  After the first couple of attempts on your life, you soon figured out that good security was essential.

  As a result, we had taken over an entire block of flats. At any other time, I would have been wowed by them. The one we had taken for ourselves on the top floor was a four-bedroom spacious apartment with a view of the sea which happened to be just across the road from us.

  I’d have been surprised if it had been any less than a half a million pounds per unit back before the fall of the world. The floor directly below us had been taken by Gregg and Cass and below them, Evelyn and her parents.

  The lowest floor was entirely filled by Samuel and a strong cadre of acolytes. A perimeter had been set up around the building with CDF guards too. It was, essentially, a small yet luxurious fortress.

  “You think they’ll ask us to leave?” I asked as the thought occurred. “I mean, when whoever gets elected takes over?”

  “They can try, I suppose,” Evie said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Depends who gets in.”

  “Who did you vote for?”

  “I can’t tell you that!” She laughed and then looked directly at me, one eyebrow cocked. “Who did you vote for?”

  “Cass.”

  “Good choice.”

  It was. She was level headed, intelligent and she cared about the people as much as I did. She was also my best friend, which made voting for her easier.

  “I hope Mason doesn’t get in.”

  Miss Mason. The leader of the small religious faction that had formed on the Isle of Lewis. Some of her policy suggestions were not for the faint of heart. I highly suspected that she wouldn’t get more than a handful of votes from some of the extreme members of her own faction.

  I hoped not, anyway.

  “Why did you do it?”

  It was an honest question and I smiled as I gave her the same, honest, answer that I had given everyone who had asked.

  “I made a promise. When I executed Minister Shahid I told the people watching that I would step down when we were safe. We are.”

  “Here on the island, sure. But there’s still danger out in the world.”

  More than she knew, I thought with a sad smile. Briony, the infected woman that had wreaked havoc before escaping in a boat, was still out there somewhere. We had lost her trail months ago and not heard anything since. My one hope was that the zombies had killed her.

  Then there was Genpact. Ryan had wiped out one of their bases but they had one more in England and others spread around the world. They’d been quiet since he had escaped from them but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we would see them again.

  Somewhere off the coast of Spain was a pirate fleet. They had been raiding survivor enclaves and capturing boats. There was no doubt that they were moving northward
s towards us and we didn’t have the capacity to defeat them at sea.

  We’d not managed to find the source of the broadcast that was supposedly from a legitimate government in hiding somewhere in the UK. Ryan was convinced it was a fake meant to sow discord but I wasn’t sure.

  And, of course, there were still millions of zombies out there. The summer hadn’t been kind to them and a good number of the Shamblers had died off. Ferals and Reapers had simply grown in number by feasting on those corpses.

  Our ships were out there constantly, gathering up survivors and offering aid to those who wanted to remain in their own enclaves. Not to mention gathering supplies to supplement our own stocks which were running low.

  On the plus side, we had cattle. Also, sheep and chickens. Not many, just a few traded from the small group of survivors outside of Perth. But it was a start and while we had to keep them under pretty constant guard as they were more precious than gold, we had them.

  It gave me hope for the future. While the winter had begun harshly and was only going to get worse, we had a chance. Something I hadn’t expected to ever be able to say again.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Evie said, and I smiled a little sadly at her.

  “Just thinking of all my problems and worries that will be someone else’s tomorrow.”

  “You’ll miss being in charge. You’re a natural at it.”

  “Maybe.” My gaze went to the two sleeping babies and I shook my head. “Maybe not.”

  “Well, the first of my students held their own sessions today.”

  “Oh? How did it go?”

  “I snuck a peek in on them without them knowing. It was a crash course in grief counselling that I gave them, but they picked it up quickly.”

  “Will free up some time for you then.”

  “Not really. I will just fill my days with all those people who need a bit more than group therapy.”

  It seemed that everyone on the island was suffering at least mild mental health issues. Many of them with more than mild. Evie had been run off her feet every day trying to help people and had still found time to train others to hold group sessions.