Killing The Dead | Book 21 | The Journey Home Read online

  That last one had seated himself on the floor before the thrones. He had removed his hood and I could only imagine the iron will it had taken to hold a knife in his hand and ram it into his temple.

  “God above,” I whispered. “How could you create something like this, Ryan?”

  There was no answer, and never could be, for my love was dead. What he had created though, that still survived, and it had born a fanatical zealotry that I could not understand. As much as I had loved him, I couldn’t help but hate him a little right then.

  What he had created was something evil, inhuman even, and it had taken on a life of its own. It had become something more than the cult he had started on a whim and become a full-blown religion that he had left me to deal with.

  “Damn it!”

  Chapter 17

  Four of them, on horses. Two with crossbows and two with lances made of what looked to be broom handles with a shaped steel tip fixed to the end. The crossbows weren’t cocked, too much strain on the string to keep it that way, so that would buy me some time.

  Long knives, almost swords on their belts made of rough steel that still bore the hammer marks. That coupled with the mismatched armour suggested they had a blacksmith, or at least someone who thought they were one.

  Hammered steel breastplates hanging from leather straps and wide rubber vambraces over their lower arms, and pauldrons on their shoulders to match. Old tyres, by the look, that had been cut to size and held in place with more leather strapping.

  While that would make it more difficult, I was confident enough in my abilities that I still thought that I would be able to kill them, and quickly. But the horses were a problem. Those mad looking beasts, foam coated flanks damp from the rain, snorted and shook their heads.

  Being crushed by one or all of them was not something I wanted to experience and it wouldn’t take them long to move out of range and then use their crossbows to deadly effect, as I had no armour of my own.

  “I said, what’re you laughing at you, dumb fuck!” the leader said, raising his voice and sharing a look with his companions who laughed as though on cue.

  He pulled on the rope he held and my former captive, now his, grunted as the rope tightened painfully around her neck.

  Overlarge nose and a thick red beard, broad shoulders, and barrel chest. He didn’t have the half-starved look of someone who had been struggling to find food for the past half-decade, which meant he likely took a fair amount from others.

  “Think this one’s a bit simple, mate.”

  The speaker was almost overweight. His stubble couldn’t hide the start of a double chin, and I suspected the top button of the flannel shirt he wore beneath his rough armour was not done up because it didn’t fit, rather than a stylistic choice.

  “Christ! This prick gonna talk?”

  I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as I stared at the slimmer man holding the crossbow across the pommel of his saddle. Hook nose and beady eyes with a patchy black beard that couldn’t hide the sharp angles of his face.

  “Anyone else in there?” the leader asked, nodding at the chapel. I didn’t respond and with an exasperated sigh he looked back at the fourth man and gestured with a jerk of his head. “Go check.”

  “Aye, boss.”

  No beard, and a pleasant enough face. Younger than the others and likely the lowest ranking of the group. The one who emptied the piss bucket and tidied up the place before they left. He was all gangly limbs and easy smile as he dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to his beady-eyed companion.

  “What about you, bitch?” He pulled hard on the rope, forcing her to reach up to grab it as it tightened around her neck. “You not gonna talk either?”

  “Why’s her hands tied?” The overweight raider asked before he looked at me. “She your plaything, is it? That why you’re so quiet, eh, caught out and think you’re in trouble.”

  He clambered down off of his horse and I held back my smile as they were just making it easier for me. The youth marched past me and I let him go, he would meet Gregg and Abigail and I was sure that my friend could handle himself well enough without my intervention.

  Besides, that left me three to kill.

  “Not a pretty little thing,” Overweight-Raider said as he grabbed the cultists wet hair and yanked back her head so that she was forced to look at him. “Not a talk neither.”

  “Mouth like that’s not gonna be used for talking anyway,” Rat-Face said. His laughter was as rough as his voice and leant forward, as he blew kisses at the kneeling cultist.

  “Will you serve me?” I asked, ignoring the confused glances from the raiders. I kept my attention focused on the kneeling cultist.

  She couldn’t turn her head, but she strained to do so, eyes full of pain and fear at what was to come. Fear and anger, yes, I could see that too. I was right about her; she had been a victim before.

  “The fuck’re you talking about?” Leader-Raider asked, scowling.

  I ignored him, as I said, “you doubted me, refused to believe my words. You failed me by following Sebastian and allowing harm to my family. Will you swear to obey once more?”

  “Shut that prick up!” Leader-Raider said. “Then we’ll have some fun with the girl.”

  Rat-Face cocked slung the crossbow over his back before dropping down to the ground. He pulled clear his sword-like blade as Overweight-Raider laughed, enjoying the spectacle.

  I allowed a smile to form as I watched him approach. He moved with a cocky confidence that came from bullying those unable to fight back. He was used to people cowering in fear from him and as he watched my face, his missed a step, confidence falling away.

  He brandished the blade in what I assume he thought was a threatening manner as he approached, his pace slowing when I showed no sign of fear. I merely watched him, head tilted and hands at my sides, a calmness washing over me as I envisaged what was to come.

  “What’s wrong with you!” Rat-Face snapped, raising his blade high above his head.

  I was past him before he could bring that blade swinging down, and his eyes widened as he reached up to the red gash that crossed his neck, just as the blood began to spurt out. I didn’t stop, my combat knife in my left hand as I pulled free my axe.

  A yell of anger and confusion, of surprise and fear as I chopped deep into the unprotected back of the leader’s knee, cutting deep. His yell turned to a scream of pain as I swung around the rear of his horse, leaping at the Overweight-Raider who was looking around, wide-eyed.

  My axe rebounded from the rubber vambraces, but my blade slipped into his side, behind the ridiculous breastplate and into the flab there. I released my grip on the blade, grabbing at his arm and pulling him, screaming, from his horse.

  He hit the ground hard and I knocked aside his steel-spiked helmet and slammed my axe down into his skull.

  The leader was loading his crossbow with trembling hands as I began to hum softly. I pulled free the knife as he loaded it and stood, watching him, blood dripping from axe head and blade alike as he raised the crossbow.

  Behind me the spooked horse reared, and I leapt to my right as the crossbow was fired. I tucked my shoulder as I hit the ground, rolling to my feet, and spinning as the Leader-Raider pulled on the reins of his horse, trying to get it to turn.

  My thrown axe hit his helmet head sending him reeling from the saddle to crash against the ground. The horse bolted as I approached the man struggling to rise. His mouth moved but no words came out as I kicked the crossbow away from his grasping hands and grinned.

  His death was swift, and I pulled free my knife as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. Bare moments had passed, and I sucked in a deep breath, before cricking my neck to release the tension in my shoulders.

  It was always the same after a kill. I wanted to keep on doing it, to kill again and again and again, never stopping as I brought death to all around me. It took a monumental effort of will to stay my hand as I glanced over at the cultist
.

  She watched me with something close to reverence on her face before she ducked her head, leaning forward to press it against the wet pavement in obeisance to me.

  “Hey, who the hell’s this guy-“ Gregg cut off as he stopped, gaping at the bodies around me. “Guess that answers my question.”

  The youth’s arm was twisted up behind his back as he held himself almost on tiptoes, while Gregg kept a firm hold of him. His face, twisted in pain, grew pale as he too saw what I had wrought.

  “Guess she believes you now, huh?” Abigail said, nodding at the cultist.

  I glanced back at her. She hadn’t moved and I shook my head, weariness settling over me as the adrenaline fled my system. The three men hadn’t been remotely close to as much of a threat as a Reaper even, and I was almost disappointed as the blood lust left me.

  “Whatever. Untie her and get him ready.”

  “Ready how?” Abigail asked, looking from the youth to me and then to Gregg. “Ready for what?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Gregg muttered, turning away from her growing suspicion.

  I was about to enter the chapel when the cultist lifted her head and spoke. “My Lord Death.”

  A soft sigh escaped me. I’d forgotten how much that honorific annoyed me and, in my desire, to honour my promise, I had ignored how irritating it would be to have her around me calling me that.

  “What?”

  “One of the Damned will return.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder and at the Rat-Faced raider she was pointing to. I’d merely cut his throat and he lay, still, gurgling as his lifeblood spread in a puddle beneath his softly twitching form.

  “Then ensure he does not.”

  With that, I headed into the chapel and slumped down on one of the sets of pews that had been turned into beds of sorts. It was not comfortable, but I didn’t need comfort just then. I needed something to lighten the darkness that always seemed to veil me after the initial joy of the kill began to wane.

  It was not hard to find. Even after so many years I could picture her still, and just the thought of her pleased me. She had been the first to find the man hidden deep within the killer, and she had brought him out, making me almost human.

  For a time, I had resented that, even hated what I was becoming, but that was no longer the case. I understood that I was better for it. I had friends and a family, something I had never expected to have. I had a quiet joy at the thought of her and my children, safe on the island.

  “What are you going to do to that kid?” Abigail stormed into the chapel, breaking my reverie, and ending any peace I may have found. “Gregg’s out there tying him to a bloody tree!”

  I considered lying to her, but there was no point as she would discover my intentions soon enough, so instead, I just lifted my shoulders in a shrug and told her the truth.

  “In a short time, I will go outside and unsheathe my knife. I will ask that youth where their main base of operations is and then I will hurt him until he gives me the answer.”

  “That’s monstrous!”

  My smile was genuine as I looked at her, seeing that anger and frustration in her crimson cheeks and clenched fists that were thrust down at her sides. Anger was one emotion I could read in people.

  “That young man has likely done some terrible things. In fact, before I killed his companions, they made it clear that they were going to rape that young woman out there. Do you think he would have not joined in when they did that to her?”

  “Well, I mean, we don’t know-“

  “Yes. Yes, we do. Even if he had wanted to avoid harming the girl, they would have insisted. There’s a kind of animalistic bonding in such an act for men like them, and if he did not take part, they would have seen him as judging them. They would have killed him for that, for making them feel like the monsters they were.”

  “So now you understand people, do you?”

  “People, no. But I do understand monsters. I am one.”

  “I can believe that!” she spat as she turned away, a squeal of anger and frustration escaping her.

  “My Lord Death-“

  “Call me that once more and I shall kill you,” I said, not looking at the cultist as she stepped inside the chapel.

  “As you command.”

  “What do you want?”

  I did look at her then and she had been unbound and walked with the confident swagger of one trained to fight. Not well enough to beat me, of course, but better than those pathetic thugs I had just killed.

  “You asked if I would serve you,” she said, eyes shining with something that made my skin crawl. “I swear that I shall.”

  My lips twitched as I glanced at the young medical student who was watching with a puzzled expression.

  “What need have I of one who did not follow the commands I left?”

  Her knees hit the chapel floor with a thud as she bowed her head.

  “I swear to you, My-“ Her eyes flicked up, and she licked dry lips. “I believed in Sebastian.”

  “You will swear to obey my every command, to do as I order without question or hesitation until I release you or death claims you?”

  “Yes.”

  I pulled free my combat knife and tossed it onto the floor before her. She looked up then, her eyes meeting my own, and she set her jaw as her eyes hardened.

  “Prove it,” I said.

  Chapter 18

  Gregg was standing in the rain, his face turned away from the young man bound to the beech tree a short distance away. The bodies of those I had killed remained where they had fallen though their horses had run away.

  The youth, face pale with fear, watched me approach. He had likely heard the scream from inside the chapel and wondered at it, or at the blood that coated the knife I held in my hand.

  “Do you have to do this, mate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bollocks to it!” he snapped. “I’ll not watch. If you need me, I’m gonna see if I can round up those horses.”

  I glanced at him, lifting one brow as I asked, “do you know how to ride?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know how to care for a horse? I don’t. Neither can I ride one and the idea of crippling myself attempting it is not appealing.”

  “Will be quicker if we have horses.”

  “Not if you don’t know how to ride them, how to care for them or even what to feed them. I’m sure there’s certain plants they can’t eat.”

  “Yeah, but-“

  “Do as you please. Just bear that in mind, yes?”

  “Aye, mate.”

  I didn’t watch him leave and while I doubted that he would even catch any of those horses, it didn’t really matter. That wasn’t the point, at least not for him. No, he just wanted to avoid having to see what I was about to do.

  “What’s your name?”

  The boy licked dry lips and swallowed hard as his eyes darted all around as though looking for some way out.

  “M-Michael.”

  “How long were you with this group?”

  “Ah, a year, maybe a little more.” His eyes fixed on the knife I held and didn’t move. “What’re you going to do to me?”

  “Depends on what you tell me.”

  “I’ll tell you anything, man! Seriously, I was only with them because it was that or be killed.”

  “Where are they based?”

  “All over!”

  My brow furrowed at that; it was not the correct answer. My arm moved swiftly, and the boy screamed as blood ran down his cheek. I lifted the knife so that he could see it, smiling as his fear increased.

  “Let’s try that again. Where are they based?”

  “Alright, I get it! They have a lot of little bases all over this part of the country.”

  “And their main base?”

  “Birmingham.”

  That was a start. I pulled out the map and spread it before me. The light was fading, and I didn’t want to let it get too wet, so I h
ad him quickly point out those base locations that he knew about. It didn’t take long.

  As I put that map back into my pocket, I considered what else I would need to know. There was no doubt that any group of raiders with satellite bases was going to be large. That meant food, resources and communication means that I would need to know about.

  Plus, having someone know the way would be useful. Which meant that I wanted to avoid killing him, but he needed to be scared of me.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What?”

  “Where are you from?” His blank look of incomprehension annoyed me. “Before the fall of the world, I mean.”

  “Ah, right, yeah. Nottingham.”

  “How did you come to meet this group?”

  “After things went to shit.” He pulled at his bonds, that thin rope that bound him to the tree and found it to be quite secure. “I was with a group just outside Nottingham. We did alright for a while, you know?”

  I didn’t, so remained silent and waited for him to continue.

  “One of my mates, his dad had an allotment behind his house where he grew his own veg. So, we went there.” He couldn’t look away from the knife in my hand. “Was rough and not always easy, but we lived there a couple of years.”

  “After that?”

  “Jenny fucked up and brought some of the zombies back with her.” He spat her name with such venom I was almost amused. “Alex and Baz, died there and Mel, she died later as we were running from place to place.”

  “We scavenged what we could and scraped by for a bit. The zombies started to die out and we kept moving south looking for more people.”

  “Who is this ‘we?’ how many of you were there?”

  “Six.”

  “Continue.”

  “Ah, yeah. Well we found a couple of groups that were doing okay but they wouldn’t let us stay. Didn’t have enough to share, they said.”

  “What did you do about that?”

  “Nothing, man! We kept moving.”