The Givers of Life (Book 1): The Risen Dead Page 9

  "It won't be long before they're up here after us again," said Geoff, glancing towards the bedroom window. "At least they haven't broken in here yet."

  "But Mrs Jenna..." sobbed Annie.

  "She sacrificed herself. Bought us some time. Let's not waste it."

  His voice was harsh, but he struggled to hold back tears of his own. He understood Annie's pain about Mrs Jenna, felt it himself, as well as the guilt. But they had to concentrate on survival.

  Hurrying to the window, he cautiously glanced out, half expecting to see the rotting face of one of the creatures looking in. When there was no one there, he looked down onto the mass of the reborn army.

  "My God, there must be at least two hundred." He looked further, to the brook and the fields beyond. "And there's more coming."

  Annie joined him at the window, her sobbing under control. She forced herself not to think of Mrs Jenna, or John.

  "There's so many," she said quietly. "We don't have a chance."

  Geoff wanted to say something positive, to contradict Annie's pessimism, but he could not find the words. He knew she was right.

  The creatures were at the bedroom door. It strained against its hinges, the wardrobe rocking back and forth.

  Annie and Geoff, trapped in a room and surrounded by the reborn, did not speak. Quietly they reached out to each other and stood, hand in hand, terrified but resigned to their fate.

  The explosions in the garden below shattered the bedroom window, the shock wave knocking them both to the floor.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The End... For Now

  As the dust slowly settled from the hand-grenades thrown by Graham, and the C-4 deployed by himself, John concentrated on picking off the armed reborn.

  One after another they fell, carefully aimed shots from his C8 Carbine shattering their skulls.

  Graham stood alongside him, outside the door of John's house, behind the main group of creatures. Although less experienced, and unable to aim with any accuracy, he fired the HK G36 Assault Rifle in short bursts, as John had instructed him.

  With all the obviously armed creatures down, John quickly changed weapon to the MP5 strung across his back, and joined Graham in firing short bursts. The deadly accuracy drummed into him during his Special Forces training was still there, while the trembling, the fear of battle, had gone, replaced by rage and determination. His aim was without error. Not one burst of 9mm ammunition missed its mark.

  Nevertheless, the sheer number of the creatures before them meant that they would eventually lose.

  #

  Geoff pulled Annie to her feet.

  "You okay?"

  Annie nodded. "Fine, just a bit bruised and shaken. What was that?"

  Geoff hurried to the broken window and, cautiously, looked out.

  "It's John," he said, turning to Annie, smiling.

  She ran to his side. For a moment she just stood, staring at John down below. The way he moved, firing, pushing the creatures back before him. There had been a time when his being ex-army, ex-Special Forces, if you believed the rumours, had concerned her. The thought that he might have killed people. But now, surrounded by flesh eating creatures, she loved the sight of him doing his job. She loved him!

  She began to cry. It was the first time she had even admitted it to herself but, yes, she loved him. And now she was conflicted. She so much wanted him to rescue her, but she was afraid that in doing so he might be hurt, even killed. She didn't know what she wanted any more.

  Geoff, unaware of the turmoil Annie was feeling, peered more closely out of the window.

  "Who's that with him? I don't recognise him. He looks almost like..."

  Annie stared, unsure of what she saw at first. No, she was certain.

  "It's that thing! The one who killed those men."

  What was John doing with that creature? Why had he not killed the thing that killed her father, attacked her. She didn't understand, couldn't understand.

  "Are you sure?" said Geoff. "Whoever it is, they're on John's side, and doing a good job as well. You must be mistaken."

  Annie shook her head emphatically.

  "No, I'm not wrong. I just don't understand."

  "Neither do I, but I'm going to take advantage of it."

  Wrapping the lower part of his shirt around his hand for protection, Geoff knocked the few remaining shards of glass from the window frame. He looked at the narrow ledge outside, the short jump to another section of roof that seemed like a chasm.

  "Come on, this is our one chance to escape."

  "Escape to what?" said Annie, an edge of bitterness colouring her voice. "There's a whole army of those things down there. John can't beat them all, not even with the help of that... that bastard creature. We die if we stay, and we die if we go. What's the point?"

  Geoff wanted to shout, to scream at her to get moving, but he controlled his anger. She was afraid. He knew that, understood it. He was terrified himself. But they had to try.

  "John has come back, and is risking his own life to try and save us." His voice was calm, tightly controlled, almost a whisper. "He could have just kept going, avoided this fight altogether. He didn't have to come back. He did it for us, for me. He did it for you, Annie."

  She was sobbing. Crippling fear, her feelings for John, her confusion, all mixed together, dragging her down to the point where she did not want to move. Not even to save her own life.

  "Annie!"

  The sudden shout came from outside, barely heard above the moaning, braying of the creatures, and the seemingly never-ending crack and bang of gunfire.

  She looked up, her eyes red with crying. The voice was John's.

  "Annie, are you there?"

  Geoff turned back to the window.

  "She's here, John. It's just me and her left."

  #

  John saw Geoff at the window as he reloaded the MP5. Ammo was running short. They had to move soon.

  "You need to get out of there now," he shouted, raising the weapon and putting a bullet through the forehead of an ambitious creature who had thought to catch him off-guard. "We can't keep this up forever."

  Even before the ammunition ran out, he knew they could be overwhelmed. Already, many of the creatures were holding back, gathering within the house or behind other, less able ones of their kind. They were keeping away from the bullets, just waiting for the opportunity.

  Over to his right, John could see Graham drop his weapon, empty, and nothing to reload with, and pull a hammer from his belt, the claw hammer he had taken from John's tool chest. The first creature that came within reach was beaten to the ground, its skull splitting, its brains oozing out.

  "Geoff, Annie. You have to move now!"

  #

  "Come on, Annie. We have to go."

  Geoff took Annie's hand and helped her to the window.

  Annie, faced once more with the battle below, and knowing that John had called for her, gathered what strength she had left, felt it straighten her spine, stop her tears. She could do this. She had to do this. For John. For herself.

  With Geoff's help, she climbed out the window onto the narrow ledge, feeling the edge with her foot, trying not to think what would happen if she slipped.

  "Just make sure you've got a good grip on the ledge, and jump," said Geoff, encouraging her from within the bedroom.

  Annie looked at the other roof and the gap between. It seemed at least twice the size her brain told her it was. She knew she should be able to almost step over, but the drop yawned so wide she began to doubt she could jump it.

  Behind her, in the room, the hammering on the door started up again as creatures, running from the bullets below, sought refuge and food elsewhere. She could hear the already weakened wood of the door splintering, the wardrobe beginning to slide across the floor.

  She had to make this jump. Now!

  Giving herself no more time to think, she pushed off the ledge. For one, terrifying moment, she felt she was falling straight down
the gap. Then she landed with a bone-jarring crash on the other roof, slipping on the tiles, finding a handhold, trying to calm her breathing. She'd made it!

  Geoff punched the air in delight. Annie had made it across to the roof. He feared she would never try, or make such a half-hearted attempt that she would slip and fall.

  A sudden crack from the door behind jerked him out of his celebration. He needed to move quickly.

  Climbing onto the small ledge was a struggle. His muscles were not as strong and supple as they'd once been. He was old, he felt it in every movement and thought every day. The Incident had merely accelerated his decay into old age. Nevertheless, his will to live had never left him. There was still a place for him in this new world of apocalypse and the dead. For him, and Annie, and John. Even for John's new companion, fighting at his side below. Whatever it was.

  He was on the ledge, his feet, several times larger than Annie's, feeling for the best purchase. The edge felt frighteningly near his heel, most of his foot hanging in space.

  "You can do this Geoff," he whispered. "Just push with the heels, you'll be fine. It's not far."

  "Come on, Mr Hobsen."

  The call came from Annie on the roof opposite, still looking frightened, but now in control. He smiled. It was good to see Annie back to her strong self. She was a survivor, even if she didn't realise it herself.

  "Geoff! Quickly!"

  He glanced down towards John, shouting up to him even as he fought off two creatures, hand-to-hand, no longer firing the gun. He wondered about that. No more ammunition? Shit. That was bad. He had to jump so they could all make a run for it.

  But how do you run from an army?

  He shook his head. Not the time to think of that. Just concentrate on the jump.

  He took a deep breath, half closed his eyes and pushed with his heels.

  As his feet left the ledge, a blackened, decaying hand thrust out from the window and grasped his ankle. It couldn't hold on, the thumb cracking and swinging loose from a strand of gristle, the index finger bent and broken, but it was enough.

  Annie screamed as Geoff, the force and direction of his jump interrupted, tumbled down the gap, his reaching fingers just brushing the guttering of the nearby roof. He made no sound as he fell, just stared, confused, not quite sure what had gone wrong.

  His skull split open like an overripe fruit as he hit the ground, wet and loud. Blood, brains and bone fragments splayed out in a fan. Before his body had stopped twitching, the creatures were upon him, a scrum of them, biting tearing, fighting each other for the best meat.

  Annie turned away and dry heaved, nothing left in her stomach.

  "Annie!"

  She wiped her mouth, although it was dry, her lips beginning to crack.

  "Annie. You have to move."

  She looked over the edge, trying to ignore the orgy of feeding happening just below her. She focused on John, calling to her even as he fought for his life.

  She had to move, for John, for herself, for Mr Hobsen, who had ensured her safety, hesitating too long to save himself.

  A quick glance back towards the window was enough to finally push her into action. Twisted, rotten bodies were climbing out onto the narrow ledge. It would not be long before they were on her roof.

  Scrambling to her feet, she ran across the tiles, not entirely sure where she was going except away from the things behind her.

  #

  John kicked the creature in the balls. He doubted it hurt as it should, but it was enough to bend the creature forward, making it easy to slam the combat knife through the top of its head into its brain. It died instantly.

  He was out of ammunition, had been for the last few minutes. It wasn't difficult to kill the reborn with his knife, most of them attacking him were slow, shuffling, bodies that had been buried long enough to decay. Maggots still writhed in their faces, under the skin of their hands and arms. It was sickening, but made them relatively easy to fight. The others, the younger ones, with speed and increased strength and little to no decay, were the real problem. Most had no combat training, although he had already fought some who showed military or, at the very least, street fighting experience. They were fast enough and strong enough to be dangerous. He found it curious how some traits from the days when they were alive seemed to survive the rebirth of their bodies, while others, including memories and speech, did not. Except for Graham.

  He glanced over to his curious companion, busy pounding the skull of another creature with the claw hammer. What made him so different? Why did this one have memories returning, the ability to speak, albeit with difficulty?

  His thoughts were interrupted by another attack, dealt with quickly and efficiently. As he pulled the blade from the creature's head, backing away from the slowly advancing crowd, he looked once more up to Annie.

  She had reached the edge of the rooftop and was cautiously easing herself onto the drainpipe.

  "Good girl," he said quietly, admiringly, perhaps even lovingly.

  He wondered about that. There was an attraction, certainly. Who wouldn't be attracted to a girl like Annie? But love? He wasn't sure. There had been many women over the years, in many different countries, but love?

  A creature crashed into him, knocking him to the ground, winding him. He scrambled to his feet, a trace of panic in his movement. Couldn't afford to get trapped on the ground. If they piled on he'd have no chance, however slow and old they might be.

  He stabbed the creature three times in the head. It was unnecessary, but he was angry at himself. Allowing distraction like that was dangerous, possibly fatal.

  Another creature, and another, and another. He had allowed them to get too close while he watched Annie.

  Forget all that romantic shit. Concentrate on the job in hand. Killing the zombies!

  #

  Annie took another deep breath as the drainpipe creaked and shifted. She was frightened of falling, remembering how those things had closed on poor Mr Hobsen the moment he hit the ground. She didn't want to be ripped apart by those creatures. She didn't want to be eaten!

  Shuffling sounds below drew her eyes downward.

  Oh shit! Creatures. Four of them, gathered below her, waiting for her to reach the ground.

  She thought about climbing back up, but she could hear the footsteps on the roof above and knew the things at the window had made it across.

  She was trapped.

  A sudden roar beneath her.

  The creature she had seen fighting alongside John, ran at the four below. It ploughed into them, swinging a claw hammer with deadly accuracy. She partially closed her eyes as blood and gore splattered the house walls, the paved ground, the lower part of her drainpipe, but she needed to see each one of the four die, and know she was safe, to descend.

  #

  Graham stood among the results of his attack. The running blood that showed these reborn had fed recently, probably on the old man who fell. The trails of brain tissue that oozed from split skulls. He was as content as he had felt for some time, another emotion new to his slowly evolving self. He had done well. He was pleased.

  It was all new, all to be savoured. He felt he was becoming more human with each new feeling, each new memory.

  The reality hit him hard, as he reached out to help the girl down the last few feet to the ground. He saw his hand, tattered, blackened, bone showing through ragged holes in the flesh. He was still one of them. One of the reborn. Not that different from those he was fighting.

  Except for the memories of his daughter, and his feelings.

  No! He was different. He would make himself different. The Givers Of Life had brought him back, but the future was his. He would be human again!

  #

  John saw Annie reach Graham safely, and also saw the escape route for them. The way across the fields was clear, the reborn army having finally gathered in its entirety around the houses themselves.

  He waved at them, shouted.

  "Go. The fields. I'll fo
llow."

  They were hesitating. Graham looked like he wanted to rejoin the fray. Annie was obviously frightened, confused, not sure what to do.

  He fended off another attack, pushing the creature back into the others. Some stumbled, others stopped. Either way it delayed their inexorable advance.

  Every effort of command, of years in the military, of expecting to be obeyed, went into his next shout. They had to respond. There was so little time.

  "Run!"

  #

  Graham took Annie's arm gently, seeing the fear and hatred in her eyes. Could he blame her? He had killed her father, attacked her with every intent to tear and eat. How could she know that the creature who did those things was no longer inside him? He felt different. Those actions were vague memories of another time, another him. But she could not see that.

  He pulled, urging her to follow him, to do as John wanted and run. He, too, had noticed the empty field behind them, the final dregs of the reborn army having pulled and crawled across the brook to the houses. Watching John take down another two of the creatures, while all the time backing away, he knew theirs was a hopeless fight. There were just too many. They could not kill every one of them. Escape was the only option.

  "No!" Annie tugged her arm free. "We can't leave John. We have to help him."

  She was on the verge of hysteria. The build up of terror, of confusion, of hatred, preparing to snap her control.

  He held his hand to his cheek, forcing the words out quickly, desperately.

  "John will follow as he said. If we don't escape, he can't."

  Annie stared at the decayed face. It had spoken. Actual words, not just grunts and moans.

  "I'm not as I was," he said, continuing quickly. "Please, we can discuss this later. Now we need to run."

  Annie tore her eyes away from the talking dead thing before her, looked over to John, and caught his eye briefly. She felt a shock of emotion at that contact. There was concern, attraction, perhaps even, if she dared to think it, love. But there was also desperation and a clear message. The strange talking creature was right. They had to run.

  #