Hellspawn (Book 6): Retribution Page 10

  “Kurt, are you awake?” Sarah called gently through the door.

  Heart soaring, he turned to the welcome distraction. “I’m up. Come in, love.”

  The door unlocked and Kurt smiled as Sarah bustled inside. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he found a spare key inside the dresser and could leave at any time.

  “What can I do for you on this cold, winters morning?”

  “Warm me up for a start!” she replied, hurrying over and jumping under the blanket with him.

  Kurt pulled her close, ignoring the mildly sour scent of her body odour. It was past time he worked out a way to get them all warm, running water again. Promising himself that the afternoon would be spent on planning the installation, he then put it to the back of his mind. Feeling Sarah shiver, he hugged tighter and started rubbing at her freezing hands.

  “We need to get you some gloves.”

  “I’ve got gloves, but I left them in the hall. I guess I was just too worried about the boys.”

  Kurt felt a pang of nerves at the words. “They’re outside then?”

  “Gloria and Jonesy took them over the wall a little while ago.”

  “They’ll be fine. They’re warriors now,” he stated, confidently. Despite the knowledge of who they were with, the icy chill of concern persisted. Being a parent in the apocalypse, it wasn’t without justification.

  “We’ve been so lucky, all things considered,” Sarah said, squeezing his loving hand over the last three words. The loss of Paige and John was going to accompany them every step of the way. They would honour their sacrifices by being the light in the darkness of a dead world. A force for justice and mercy. That mercy would not, however, extend to those that deserved none. The villains of the prison were but the first of many pockets of evil that likely pervaded the earth like a cancer. Cutting them out like festering tumours would be, in itself, a mercy on the other survivors.

  “I know. I look back at what we did and can’t believe we only lost two of our family. It could’ve been so much worse.”

  Sarah was heartened to see that Kurt was able to talk about their loved ones without growing furious, or falling into silent melancholy. Acceptance had led to eternal gratitude for their bravery, and he even allowed himself a wan smile at their memory. “I hope it ends there,” she said. “I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.”

  “I think that’s up to fate, love. All we can do is prepare everyone for what’s coming.”

  “You think it’ll get worse with the prison?”

  “A lot worse.”

  “I’d rather we not think about that right now, I’m sorry I brought it up. I’ve got enough worry with our boys being out in the world.”

  “Winston will keep them safe.”

  “You’ve finally taken to the boy?”

  “How could I not? He’s only been with us a few days, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t make me feel like we’ve known him forever.”

  “He brings a warmth with him, doesn’t he?”

  Kurt nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s a great way of putting it. Even with all he’s been through, and with those creatures no less, he’s still got an innocent charm. I think we’ll need to adopt him before Gloria beats us to it.”

  “At this rate we’ll be worse than Fagin.”

  Kurt was familiar with the name but couldn’t place it. “Fagin?”

  “The character from Oliver Twist. He used children to steal for him.”

  He slapped himself in the forehead. “Of course! And we’re already using ours to steal archery equipment today. Next thing it’ll be bank jobs and balaclavas.”

  “No one would miss a few million pounds nowadays.”

  “The problem is, nowhere is taking cash anymore.”

  “No one’s taking anything anymore. Can it really be classed at theft when the owners are zombies?”

  “Without a government and society it can’t even be called looting.”

  “In that case, I’ll have a diamond necklace and earrings for Christmas.”

  “Consider it done,” Kurt replied, kissing her.

  “Do you need me to bring you anything when I leave?”

  “A few more logs would be good. I’m getting low.”

  “You’re not going to ask to get out?” she asked, cautiously.

  “There’s no need. I know you’ve got it all in hand.”

  “Thank you for trusting me. For trusting us.”

  “You ladies have got this well in hand. There’s nothing fiercer than a mother protecting her cubs. Though in your case, you have a class full of adopted cubs, old cubs, cubs that worked in the castle, lazy, good for nothing cubs, and everything in between.”

  “It’s quite a mix.” Sarah nodded.

  Taking her gradually warming hand, he looked into her eyes. “I’m grateful that you saw I was in trouble and took the decision out of my hands.”

  “I’m just sorry we had to lock you away.”

  “Don’t be. If I’d been free, I’d have re-joined you after a quick nap.” It was true. Luckily, the discovery of the spare key had come after he had calmed down and reconciled himself to some well needed healing time.

  “Everyone’s rising to the challenge. You should be proud of the group you’ve brought together.”

  “We’ve brought together.”

  “Ok, we’ve. I’ve got Denise and Patricia working on a plan to reach the cathedral. Jonesy and DB are putting the finishing touches to a food run. And the boys worked with Jonesy on today’s raid, deciding on the safest routes and way to bring the stuff back.”

  “They’re amazing. It feels like a weight’s been taken from my shoulders. Since that first day on the school field, I’ve refused to let anyone else take the burden. It was killing me.”

  “I know, but you’ve gotten past that. We have soldiers, current and ex. We’ve got a retired police officer. We’ve got strong willed people who can now share the load. It’s going to get easier for you.”

  “I like the sound of that. I guess I was just stuck in the role of ‘male protector’.”

  “And I wonder where you get that stubborn streak from?” she said, knowingly.

  “It was the generation my dad was born in. The man was meant to be the rock within a family unit; the provider, the disciplinarian, the teacher about life.”

  “Who’d have thought us dainty creatures could be more than just window dressing, looking all pretty for our menfolk?” she teased, fluttering her hands at her red cheeks.

  “Thank goodness for the 21st century and women’s lib. Although you still look pretty.”

  “Charmer.” Sarah giggled, kissing him again.

  “Will you keep me updated on the boys? I’d like to congratulate them when they get back.”

  “As soon as I get word, I’ll pop back and let you know. They’ll be over the moon to get your praise,” Sarah replied, reluctantly easing herself from under the blanket.

  “I don’t do it nearly enough. That’ll change now.”

  “Rest up, love. I’ll see you soon,” Sarah said, blowing a kiss from the open door.

  Kurt caught it and tucked it in his shirt pocket before returning the gesture. As his wife closed the door, his gaze returned to the dancing flames of the fire in the hearth. Please God, if you’re out there, keep my boys safe.

  Chapter 17

  “How’re we going to get out? Everything else is blocked by the metal shutters!” sputtered Anthony.

  “Don’t panic,” said Braiden. “I want everyone to form up down the hall, four kneeling, four standing. The rest of you will hand them arrows once they’ve fired. We’re going to plug this corridor with bodies to buy us some time.”

  Jonesy confirmed the order and ushered the other students through into the main hall. Using the tapered wooden stops, they held back the self-closing doors and lined up. Pea took a knee and got into position, placing a handful of colourful arrows on the floor. Three more joined her, followed quickly by the classmates to h
er rear.

  “When they come through, keep firing. Even when they’re forcing their way past the dead, keep firing. Eventually they’ll block it and we use the delay to get clear.”

  “It won’t leave us many arrows,” warned Pea.

  “We can worry about that later. It’s only a quarter of a mile to the shop from here and you can restock with proper equipment once we get there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jonesy turned to the boys. “Sam, can you check the building? See if there’s any obvious way to get out safely. Keep your eyes open for any zombies.”

  “On it!”

  “If this doesn’t work, you kids will fall back behind us. Myself, Braiden, and Winston will go hand to hand and hold them off. Understood.”

  “Understood.”

  Sluggish, dead feet started to clomp up the wooden steps, casting indistinct shadows through the partly closed door.

  “Here they come!”

  Barging through the shattered opening, the momentary anticipation of a warm meal was snatched away by piercing bolts. Eye sockets were ruptured and foreheads punctured by lethal shots. Braiden could feel their fear evaporate as confidence grew. They were human. They were alive. And they were damned if they were going to let a horde of mindless corpses take that away! Pea was in a competition with Holly to see who could get the highest number of kill shots off. As the bodies started to pile up, they looked at each other and laughed.

  “Don’t get cocky,” warned Jonesy.

  “I think a little cocky is warranted,” replied Winston, marvelling at the accuracy.

  “We don’t need to know about your tiny manhood right now,” Braiden teased.

  “Let them concentrate!” Jonesy said, firmly.

  At the door, the bodies were piling up like stacked lumber. As one row died, they would fall forward and pile atop the already dead. Outside was thick with the monsters, but they were being forced to try and clamber over their slain, only to be shot at close range and join them in the growing mound. Slowly but surely, the corridor filled with the weight of decomposing flesh.

  “How many was that?” asked Pea, waiting for the next target to stick its head through.

  “I got twelve,” said Holly.

  “Same.”

  “It’s working,” remarked Jonesy, noting the bodies rocking as weight was applied on the other side.

  “She’s mine!” both girls said as a blonde bride, replete with face veil, managed to crest the top of the pile close to the ceiling. Twin snaps of bowstrings sent two arrows into her brain, both nearly dead centre of the grey forehead.

  “Good shot,” they complimented each other in unison.

  “Stay sharp! They’re still going to get through.”

  **********

  Sam searched the eastern end of the building as the first arrows started to fly. Another small passage led to male and female conveniences. Both rooms had only small windows close to the ceiling to provide ventilation during the warmer months where a stench might crop up from unflushed toilets. Even if they could squeeze through, the steel shutter on the outside was solid. Leaving them behind, the other door opened into a vast storeroom where the tables and chairs were kept for the various functions held in the pavilion. The sturdy, steel framed seats were stacked together against the wall. Sam tried to pick a stack of eight up and winced at the weight. Running from the room, he passed the small dance stage and headed towards the group.

  “There’s loads of chairs in that room and they weigh a ton. It’ll be a good second line of defence,” he explained before heading to the western end of the building.

  It was basically the same as all town halls and local sports venues. A separate communal shower block with changing rooms and lockers took up half of the walled off space. The other section comprised a sizeable kitchen capable of cooking meals for a large number of guests at once. A pair of mugs sat by a cold kettle, the teabags laying unbrewed in the bottom. That was why the front door wasn’t sealed with the metal shutter, he realised. The workers had been preparing to make a hot drink when the zombies attacked. Could they still be in here? No, it was locked. They’re probably outside somewhere.

  From the main hall came the grunts and clangs of metal being shifted into position. Sam’s relief at having a better blockade started to retreat into panic at the sealed exits. There was no way out. They would have to pray the ammunition held against the number of undead. Otherwise they would be fighting them in the main hall hand to hand. It was impossible to know the numbers, but if the groans were any indicator there were several hundred at least.

  “Damn it!” he hissed, cursing their luck.

  Leaving the kitchen, he hesitated and took a step back. The locked larder door was calling to him for some reason. Why a tiny food store would be important was anyone’s guess. Twisting the handle, it remained stubbornly sealed. Still, the feeling persisted. Kicking out at the wood, it was too thick to budge. As with the doors in Sam’s school, they were specially designed to hold back fire. Reinforced and lined with goodness knew what material, it meant a hefty kick wouldn’t do the trick.

  Running back to the others, Sam relayed his findings. “I can’t see a way out right now,” he told the scrabbling team of furniture movers. “Winston, are you feeling strong?”

  Holding four stacked chairs under each arm, he made a ‘what do you think’ face.

  “I need you. Bring your axe.”

  Making his excuses to the others, he picked up the weapon and joined his friend in the kitchen.

  “I don’t know why, but I want this door open. Can you hack at the lock until it gives way?”

  “Why not just ask Gloria?”

  “My ears are still hurting from outside,” he explained, the high pitch ringing of shocked eardrums whining constantly. “I don’t want to do it in a confined space. I think I’d go deaf.”

  “Good point. Stand back.”

  Hefting the weapon, the ceiling above prevented him from getting a decent downward angle for a strike. Moving to the side of the door, he swung from the shoulder in a wide arc, chipping the outer layer.

  “Good, but try and get it close to the lock.”

  Winston wound up again, and this time the sound of cracking metal could be heard above the impact. Two more blows and the lock disintegrated, swinging the door wide.

  “I knew it!” Sam exclaimed, punching the air.

  A small set of steel rungs on the back wall rose up to a padlocked hatch. Moving inside the pungent smelling food store, Winston gently hacked at the small brass fitting and the clasp broke away.

  “I’ll get the others!”

  Jonesy was stood in a shooters stance, rifle raised and aimed through the gaps in the chair barricade.

  “This way! We can get into the attic!”

  “What good would that do?” asked Holly. Her previous confidence had disappeared at the thought of being trapped inside with the hungry dead.

  “We can get out onto the roof.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me, I’ve done it before,” he said, thinking back to weeks ago. The houses. The child killers. The explosion. The burned face. The missed shot. It all seemed so long ago, another lifetime in fact. In some ways it was true, it was a previous life. One where he was shy and afraid. One where the thought of leaving the house and running into Braiden was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. Now here he was, Braiden by his side, battling the zombie hordes. It’s funny how life turns out, he mused as the others raced for the kitchen.

  “Good find, mate,” Jonesy said, not taking his eye from the scope.

  “Get yourself up there too. Braiden and I will follow.”

  “I’ve got the gun, you two go.”

  “It’s because you’ve got the gun that you need to get to safety and protect the others. If the worst should happen, you know how to use that thing. I’d end up shooting my toe off.”

  “Fine,” Jonesy replied, seeing the logic but not liking it one bit. �
��But you make damned sure your arses are right behind me!”

  “We will. Now go!”

  Following the others, Jonesy cast an anxious glance over his shoulder. The boys seemed calm, confident, their body language relaxed, but ready.

  Sam took out the slingshot and studied the banding. It was on its last legs, judging by the pale cracks in the rubber. Letting off two shots between the interlocking chairs, the weapon was still lethal for the moment. The unfortunate zombies slumped onto the mishmash of stacked furniture, foreheads punched in like a slaughterhouse bolt gun.

  “This reminds me of the first attack. Do you remember?” asked Sam.

  “I’ll never forget it. I was going to kick the shit out of you after school for grassing me up.”

  “Hey! You stabbed me with a compass!”

  Braiden’s face dropped. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was such a cunt to you.”

  “We’ve been through that. Don’t worry about it,” Sam said, punching him on the arm playfully.

  “I wonder what happened to all our friends?”

  “I expect they’re out there somewhere, as dead as this lot.”

  “I guess so. Who’d have thought Mrs Blume would save us. She was like a machine when she built that pile of chairs and tables.”

  “I used to hate her. Well, probably not hate. I just didn’t like being picked on the whole time.”