Killing the Dead (Book 13): War of the Dead Read online

  “Bring them to me and gather everyone.”

  The young minion walked across the deck towards the nearest group of black-clad people and spoke a few words. They didn’t utter a protest but just rose to their feet and followed him below decks.

  In just minutes, black-clad followers began to emerge from below and they all moved towards me, stopping a couple of metres away. I kept my face still as I swallowed down the urge to unleash my rage on them all.

  A few minutes later, a slim young woman pushed through the crowd to stand before me, eyes red behind her hood. The minion who had first approached me came next, hands closed tight around the upper arm of a solidly built man who snarled something at the young woman as he passed.

  I looked directly at the young woman and she looked away, eyes full of fear. The man though, he stared at me with anger in his gaze.

  “Is the accusation true?” I asked him and he immediately began shaking his head.

  “No! I swear!”

  “You didn’t have sex with this woman?”

  “Well… yeah, I did, but she wanted to.”

  “Did you?”

  “N-no, My Lord Death.”

  “She’s lying! The bitch!”

  One of them was likely lying and I wasn’t the best equipped to discern which of them was telling the truth. I needed Lily for such things as she understood people.

  “Has anyone else been… coerced, by this man?” I asked loud enough for all on deck to hear.

  There was a rustling of cloth and another petite woman stepped forward, raising her hand as she glanced across at the man.

  “He tried it with me.”

  “I never touched you!”

  “Because I told you to fuck right off, pal.”

  “Enough,” I said and looked at the woman. “What did he try?”

  “Told me that I needed to go with him, back at the old base. Said if I didn’t, he’d have me kicked out.”

  “Did he explain how he could do such a thing?”

  “Said, he was connected with you.”

  That was news to me and I turned to look at the man. I made a gesture with one hand and his hood was ripped free so that I could stare at his face. Unshaven with a nose that had clearly been broken more than once, he had a cracked front tooth and a slight scar above his left eye. Not a face I wouldn’t remember if I had seen it before.

  “I have never spoken to you before now,” I said softly. “Nor seen you without your hood.”

  His face paled and he struggled in the grasp of the two men that held him. I shook my head slowly as my anger threatened to spill out. An eagerness growing beneath it for blood.

  “You would dare to speak for me?” I asked as I rose to my feet. “To suggest you have influence over me!”

  “I’m sorry!” His wide eyes flicked this way and that, looking for a way out. “I didn’t…”

  His words cut off as my knife entered his throat, warm blood gushing from the wound, over my hand and spilling across the deck. I reached forward, freehand grasping his hair and forcing his head up so that I could stare him in the eyes as he died.

  I pulled back my knife and he slumped in the grasp of the two minions. My gaze swept the silent crowd and I raised my voice to ensure all heard me clearly.

  “There is no rule against what you do in your free time. I care not who you have sex with so long as it is consensual. If anyone forces another, they will face this mans fate. Is that clear?”

  A chorus of ayes answered me and I ran my gaze over them once more, anger slowly fading and replaced with a sense of loss that I couldn’t explain.

  “Dispose of that,” I said and turned my back to the crowd, returning to my place at the railing.

  Chapter 9

  The ship dropped anchor a short distance north of the town, out in the narrow strait between the mainland and one of the many islands that dotted the area. The skies were clear, the moon shining down brightly and the dark waters had calmed.

  Five black-clad minions climbed over the side of the ship and down to the waiting boat below. I leant forward on the railing, watching them as they settled themselves and dipped the oars into the water.

  There was some frustration for me, watching them row across the short distance to the shore. My fingers itched to reach for my knife and dive into the water, chasing after them so I could lead them through the dark streets of the town.

  “You sure about this?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and nodded abruptly to the captain. He scratched at his stubble covered chin, eyes dropping low as though afraid to question me, but there was concern in his voice.

  “They are used to fighting in the darkness,” I said. “If any of them don’t survive, they are not strong enough to be part of the group anyway.”

  He looked down at the deck. The dark stain on the wooden boards still remained and he swallowed hard. It might sound harsh to him, but it was necessary. The strong survived, the weak died. That was the way of the world now and he needed to know that. They all did.

  “Take us closer to the town,” I instructed and he nodded once before moving away.

  The fist of minions that I had sent out would make their way through the outer edge of the town towards the harbour. They would assess the threat and signal us from the docks if it were safe for the ship to land.

  Until then, we would sit out in the bay and wait. As unappealing as that sounded, I knew it was necessary. I could just about make out the shadow black shapes of the town's buildings rising up into the hills above us.

  With just the moon for illumination, the rough shapes of the buildings were all I could make out though. If there were undead wandering those streets between them, then I wouldn’t see until the morning.

  It was only a short distance for the boat and we were soon at anchor a bare hundred metres from the dock. My minions crowded the rails, staring across at the docks and I was pleased to see how eager they were to go ashore.

  I settled in to wait as the wind picked up, ruffling my damp hair. There was a definite chill in the air and I crossed my arms as I rested my back against the railing. While I could have just as easily gone below decks, I felt the need to remain where I was beneath the open sky.

  The sun was creeping above the horizon when a soft call came from further along the deck. I looked up, blinking my bleary eyes and followed the pointed arm of my minion. There, on the end of the dock was a black-clad figure holding a torch above his head, aimed our way.

  “Tell the captain to take us in,” I ordered and a nearby minion rushed off.

  A rumble went through the ship as the engines kicked into life and it made its ponderous way towards the docks. The few crew members knew what they were doing and soon had us tied up at the docks while out in the bay, the supply ship anchored itself until we called them in to pick up whatever supplies we found.

  I led the way onto the dock and met with the minion that had signalled us. He pulled himself up to rigid attention and saluted with his fist against his chest. I felt the frown form on my face as I noted the complete lack of blood on his clothing. No fight with the undead went completely mess free.

  “What did you find?”

  “Nothing, My Lord Death.”

  I paused at that, giving him a hard look as the rest of the minions spilt out onto the wooden boards of the dock.

  “Nothing?”

  “N-no, My Lord Death. There were none of the Scourge anywhere to be found.”

  That could indicate that a reaper had control of them and had forced them up the hill or elsewhere. They could also have just wandered off in search of food, but somehow, I didn’t think that would be the case.

  I nodded slowly and swept the group with my gaze. I preferred to work with smaller groups but since I had ten fists with me, I was going to put them to good use.

  “Fist leaders, step forward.”

  Ten of the black-garbed figures took that step, putting a little space between themselves and those behind. To b
e given charge of a fist was reserved only for those who showed promise and a great deal of competency.

  “You two,” I pointed to two burly looking men on the left. “Take your fists and ensure the waterfront is completely clear. Any buildings are secured and that there will be no threats from our rear.”

  They saluted with fists to their chests but I ignored them, moving on to the next in line.

  “You,” a tall woman stood straighter as I pointed at her. “You will guard these docks. No one gets near the ship.”

  “As you command, My Lord Death.”

  I moved to the next and said, “I want you to take your fist to the distillery.” I nodded towards the large building that stood out from the others around it far to the south. “Gather whatever you can from there and start stacking it for collection.”

  “I’m sure the lads will enjoy a little tipple but should you not be concentrating on foodstuffs?” the captain called from where he leant against the railing behind me.

  “Raw alcohol has a number of uses and even the distilled stuff can be put to use and not just for getting drunk.”

  “Aye, fair enough lad.”

  There was a noticeable shift in the stance of my minions at the familiarity of his tone and I quickly went on, pointing to the next in line.

  “I want you two to move through the town. Clear any and all streets to ensure we will not find any threats. Make note of anywhere of interest and we can investigate later.”

  That left four more fists and while I intended to take three of them with me, I didn’t need four. I turned to woman furthest to my left.

  “Take your fist, find any vehicles that could be of use and see if you can get them working. We brought batteries and fuel, it’s stored on the ship. Look for trucks with ample space.”

  “As you command,” she said, bowing her head as she gave the now customary salute, which I ignored.

  “The rest of you, come with me. We’ll head up into the town and find the warehouses.”

  At that, they sprang into action. All but the three fists I had chosen to stay with me left to set about the tasks I had given them. I turned to the captain and nodded once.

  “You will be guarded but if you have to, do not hesitate to leave.”

  “Aye, no worries there, man.”

  The fifteen men and women fell in behind me as I strode along the dock. In the early morning light, it was clear to see that the town had once been a picturesque place. Spreading up the hill with ample foliage gathered between, it had a peaceful feel to it.

  There seemed to be three levels. On the lowest, were the hotels and businesses that catered to the tourists and fishing trade. The pressed up against the sea wall and loomed over the bay. Not a single one that I could see was less than four storeys high.

  Above them, halfway up the hill were more buildings, mainly homes with at least one stone-built church in view. Large buildings of grey stone, I had no doubt they had once been desirable and expensive homes.

  Rising over the trees behind those houses, at the top of the hill was the tower that Jenny had spoken of. It wasn’t much of a tower. While it was round, and at my rough estimate I put it at about two hundred metres or so in circumference, it was only two levels high. Each level had high, arched lancet windows all around the length and there was no roof to speak of.

  I gestured one of the fist leaders forward and said, “take your fist and check that tower out. Go slowly and quietly. If there is a Reaper in town, that is where it will likely be.”

  “Yes, My Lord Death.”

  He gathered his people and increased his pace, heading off towards the tower as I led the remaining two fists up the steep hill towards the top.

  Like most other towns I had seen in the past year, evidence of panicked flight was everywhere. Cars filled the roads and the gardens we passed were filled with clothes and personal belongings that had been dumped or dropped when those carrying them had been attacked.

  The houses were dark, their curtains open wide and more than one window had old smears of blood spread across them. People had died in those houses but as we passed, there was no undead stirring inside.

  On each of the doors was a small cross, painted hastily with streaks of paint leaving long trails down the doors. It was the simplest sign to make and it indicated that someone had been around either after the town had fallen or at least organised during its collapse. I wasn’t sure which would be better for us.

  Those marks could mean that the houses had infected inside of them or that someone had already been through them and taken anything of use. I hoped for the former but expected the latter.

  We moved past a hotel that overlooked the bay, a grand old building that was likely built during the last century judging by the carved stonework on the walls and came to a stop. We were at the top of the hill and beyond a large carpark was a supermarket.

  “My Lo…”

  “Enough of that,” I said irritably.

  “Forgive me, My Lord Death.”

  I held back a sigh and turned to the woman who had spoken. I recognised the voice of Jenny and nodded for her continue.

  “Those large buildings, beyond this supermarket.” She pointed to two large rectangular structures made of grey breezeblock and white aluminium. “Those are the warehouses.”

  “Okay.” I paused and then added, “thank you.”

  She bowed her head and stepped back, leaving me to stare out over the carpark. There were far too many cars parked there for me to be entirely comfortable. The roads around the supermarket were full, and the entrance to the carpark had a large number of cars that had been seemingly abandoned, but no zombies.

  A lot of people would have headed to the nearest supermarket to load up on food when things went to hell. I knew that, had seen it numerous times before. But what usually happened was that a lot of those people died and the supermarkets and surrounding streets ended up full of the undead.

  I pulled my knives free of their sheaths and heard the tell-tale hiss of metal on leather as the minions behind me did the same. The knife with the eight-inch blade, I kept in my right hand, point facing up and the six-inch blade in my left, point down.

  “Take your fist,” I said to Jenny. “Head around the back of the building. I want no surprises inside.”

  She pressed her fist to her breast and set off at a run, staying below the level of the cars. Then, as ready as I could be, I set off, keeping low between the cars and checking each of them in turn as I passed by. More than once I dropped down to the cracked tarmac and scanned beneath the cars, but still, no undead and no bodies or bones left behind. It was irksome.

  A year's worth of dust and debris covered those abandoned vehicles and the cast-off debris of humanity had been blown by the wind into the spaces between them. Plastic bottles and bags, food wrappings and discarded clothing. It seemed that our waste would long outlast the last of us.

  Weeds grew between the cracks in the tarmac and the shrubbery and trees that had been planted around the outskirts had grown wild in the absence of human tending. Another year and it was likely that most town and cities would be overgrown, providing easy places for the undead to hide.

  The doors of the supermarket were open and the stench of death lingered there. I stepped through and paused, seeing a body lying propped against the first row of shelves.

  It was dressed in clothing that while worn, was fairly clean and well-tended. Its head was bowed, chin against chest and had slumped over to the right, allowing me to see only part of its body. There was something off about it and I crouched low, studying it for a moment.

  “Damn,” I said softly as I shook my head. “You might as well stand up; your trap hasn’t worked.”

  “Well now, boyo, that is a shame.”

  The man’s head lifted; a wide grin showing through the thick red beard. He tossed his head, to clear the long hair from his face and pushed himself to his feet. In his right hand was a pistol that he had the good grace not to po
int at me.

  “Now, who be you?” he asked as more men and women stepped out of the shadows, weapons in hand that were most definitely pointed our way.

  Chapter 10

  Water dripped down the back of my shirt and I pushed myself lower into the leaf mulch and mud, doing my best to ignore it as the pair of CDF soldiers walked slowly by on the road below us. Gregg, by my side, had his hand on the hilt of his poignard for all the good that would do.

  As they passed out of view, I counted slowly to ten before pushing myself up, just enough to peer once more through the gap in the bushes. The slight rustling sound it made as I moved a few of the branches aside was lost in the pitter patter of rain hitting the leafy canopy above us.

  A handful of large buildings filled the area ahead of us with a wire mesh fence running all the way around it. Guard posts had been set up along the road that ran past it with regular patrols being made by CDF troops.

  What was going on inside those buildings, I didn’t know, but there was an unpleasant churning in my gut that told me it was something bad.

  “Guards pass every five minutes.”

  Gregg grimaced as he said it, sniffing at the mud on his hand and pulling a face before wiping it against his trouser leg.

  “Yeah, but have you noticed none of them are inside the fence? They’re just walking the perimeter.”

  “Someone must be inside,” he muttered.

  There was a squelching sound whenever he moved and I knew I’d be hearing his complaints about the mud all the way back to the town. Though, that distance was far too short for my liking. Barely half a kilometre to the west of where I lay in the mud beneath the trees.

  Cars still filled the carpark, their once bright paintwork faded and dull beneath a thick coating of dust. No one had made any attempt to move them when they moved into the building other than to shift a couple out of the way of the guard posts that were set up beside the front gate.

  It had been some kind of research facility before the fall of the world, or so the sign beside the gate proclaimed. What they had researched and why they needed such large facilities, I couldn’t say. Nor was I really that bothered since my primary concern was the fact that anyone who had been bitten was taken inside and not seen again.