Hellspawn (Book 6): Retribution Page 5

  Bad.

  “Leave him.” Stabbing or a snapped neck was too good for that deceitful bastard.

  Ok. Do you want me to leave so you can think it over?

  She shook her head.

  You mean you don’t want to go?

  “We go,” she sighed and her eye closed. In seconds she was snoring softly.

  Stroking the remains of her dark hair, he kissed her gently on the forehead. I’m pussywhipped and we haven’t even had a date, he thought, chuckling quietly. To hell with it, she was more than worth it.

  Leaving the room, he tore the sheet of paper from the pad and set light to the corner. Dr Feeley gasped, but said nothing.

  “I need her ready to move by nightfall. Gather up any medicine she needs and write down details of doses and times.”

  “She needs complete bedrest. It’s impossible!”

  “I’m not asking, I’m telling.”

  “You’re not in charge of this place!” Dr Feeley fired back. From his tone it was clear he intended to tell Craig.

  Hombre weighed the option of killing the man immediately, instead of later that day. The doctor could feel the menace emanating from the hardened prisoner and looked at the door as if ready to try and bolt.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “You know I can’t do what you ask,” spluttered the doctor. His eyes were moving back and forth like a tennis official.

  Hombre inched closer, ready to pounce. His body was tingling from the promise of violence. Instead of murder, another idea came to him. “Doc, how’d you like to get out of here?”

  Dr Feeley sidestepped closer to the door, then paused. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m leaving, and I’m saying I’d take you with us.”

  “So you could kill me out of sight once we get clear of the prison?”

  “No, I need you. I know fuck all about medicine and treatments, but Debbie’s leaving with me and I want her to be cared for.”

  “I don’t understand why you’d leave in the first place? We’re secure here,” he said. Scowling at the next word he would utter, the doctor continued. “We’re safe. In a manner of speaking.”

  “I can’t be here anymore. You know what Mike did to her, and I want to take her away from that,” Hombre said, trying to burnish his gallantry credentials.

  “Where would we go?”

  “We’d lay low for a few days until she’s strong enough. Then I’d take you north to the castle.”

  “Why the castle?”

  “There’re people there. Normal people. I’d get you inside and then disappear.”

  “How would the three of us make it outside the walls? It’s swarming with the dead.”

  “Doc, I made it through a town with thousands of the fuckers. We’d be fine, trust me.”

  “What about the people here?”

  Hombre was losing patience. “Doc, you’ve got a choice. You can stay here and keep extending the torture, or you can come with me and have a chance to rebuild. You know as well as I do that Craig will eventually butcher every single one of them anyway. And if the Fowler brothers manage to take over?” He left the question hanging. It was no secret that the Fowlers had fucked women and children to death on rape night. At least Craig wasn’t that deranged.

  “But they’d be defenceless. They’ll die.”

  “They were dead the second they set foot in here looking for shelter.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Last chance. Either come with me at dusk or try and make a break for it now. Maybe you’ll escape and get to Craig, but I don’t fancy your chances.”

  “You promise not to kill me?”

  “I really do need you, Doc. And even though I could kill you as soon as I’m done with you, I won’t. I live by my code, and that means I keep my word.”

  “How do you know the people at the castle aren’t as bad as…” he nearly said you, but checked himself. “Craig and Mike?”

  “I’ve heard the real story once Mike was pissed enough. They’re good people, and he tried to fuck them over. He’s all bent out of shape because they got away.”

  Wiping at his sweaty face, Dr Feeley capitulated and nodded.

  Hombre nodded in return. “By dusk. Be ready.”

  As Hombre exited the medical centre, a gnawing feeling of cowardice filled Dr Feeley with shame. What else can I do? He groaned inwardly. In truth, nothing. He had administered his duty as well as anyone could be expected, at times even putting himself at risk of bodily harm or death to try and protect the innocents. What could one man do against a whole den of evil? Choking down the unwanted feeling, he started to assemble the equipment and medication he would need for the escape.

  Chapter 9

  “That’s the industrial complex.” Matt pointed through the chain link fence.

  “What do we want from there?” asked Max.

  “Once we’re set up on the bridge, everything. There’s metal working facilities, building merchants with enough stone to make another prison from the ground up, aggregate supplies. You name it, Craig wants it.”

  “He has some grand plans.”

  “That he does. Slowly but surely he’s going to get you all back to modern civilisation.”

  “I like the sound of that. I haven’t watched a porno in years.”

  “I don’t think the pinnacle of human achievement was videos of women getting fucked.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s quite high up the list,” Max added and the men chuckled.

  Trudging on through the stationary traffic, they skirted the massive complex. Huge, concrete lined troughs held all manner of sand and stones. Machines sat silently, waiting for the jump start to bring them back to life and shift the material. Vast warehouses with untapped spoils waited for an intrepid explorer to discover. They could see soaring chimneys of the metal working facility, cold and smokeless. Coming up to a large roundabout, a multiple vehicle accident was the cause of the extended queues in every direction. In the wreckage, things still thrashed and clawed. Weak, starved creatures beat at the toughened glass of the cars and trucks as they passed.

  “Would you look at that!” Max exclaimed.

  “That’s gross,” gulped Andrew.

  “It’s the way of things now. We’ve all seen worse,” Matt replied. He’d seen plenty of bodies in his time, and the only difference was this one was still moving.

  The morbidly obese man was trapped in a vehicle far too small for his bulk. How he’d managed to squeeze into the tiny driver’s seat was anyone’s guess. His enormous belly, already pressed tightly to the steering wheel, had started to fuse around the leather bound ring. How could he even steer? thought Matt. Layers of overhanging fat were gradually melting like wax, settling into the footwell and sides of the chair. As he writhed, forever trapped, small pockets of decayed air burst from the folds, like wet flatulence.

  “Oh God.” Andrew gulped, reeling away to lose his breakfast.

  “Do we kill it?” asked Max.

  “It’s not doing any harm. Leave him be,” Matt said and marched on.

  Without conscious thought, the men all followed the flow of traffic as if they were themselves cars circling the central bank of raised flowerbeds. Random hands sprung from beneath the wreckage, trying to grasp the passing legs. Cursing their cowardice, Matt took the lead, crushing or severing any limb foolish enough to present itself.

  “For fuck’s sake, they’re just zombies,” he grumbled. “It’s not as if you didn’t wrap up tight enough to stop them biting your arms and legs.”

  During the first day of the hostile takeover, the riot room had been fully emptied. The lags tore around the prison, smashing things with batons or shields. A couple of concussions were treated following a headbutting contest with the protective helmets. Matt had quickly ordered the return of the gear, seeing the value of the material. It was this reinforced fabric that was now padded and wrapped around their calves and forearms. As well as providing protection from unwanted teeth,
it held the added advantage of keeping the cold at bay. Half of the group had also worn the gloves and helmets that had gone through the riot or gauntlet undamaged. Matt was firmly of the belief that if he was cornered and pinned down, the last thing he wanted was to be fully protected from head to toe. All it would achieve would be to slow down the inevitable death, whilst prolonging the agony as the hungry mouths gnawed at the impenetrable barrier. Fuck that!

  “Is that what we’re after?” asked Paul, pointing through the trees.

  “Indeed it is, mate.”

  The sprawling supermarket was home to abundant food of every variety. All kept safe by the new security on guard in the carpark; ten thousand crumbling, festering monsters.

  “How do we know that people aren’t in there eating it all?”

  “See how the glass is all smashed in? There might’ve been people hiding inside which drew the dead fucks, but now they’re part of the horde. Once we get it cleared out, we’ll be set for a year.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Paul grinned.

  “Stay low and quiet. We don’t want them catching sight of us,” Matt warned. It was unlikely with the copious covering of bushes and cars, but why take the risk?

  Continuing onwards, they left the roundabout on course for the coast. Before they’d made it twenty yards, the wail of a car horn cut through the still air like a knife. Birds took flight in massive flocks, unused to the sounds of human influence after so long.

  “Fuck! Where’s that coming from?” Matt snarled.

  “It’s the fat cunt in his car. He’s somehow pressing the fucking hooter!” replied Tim.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of those that’re fitted in the middle of the steering wheel?”

  “Surely the battery should be dead by now,” Matt snapped.

  “It sure as hell doesn’t sound like it!”

  “I’ll run back and kill him!” Max declared, pulling the machete.

  “It’s too late! They’re already coming!” Matt shouted over the shrieking vehicle.

  “Which way do we go?” asked Andrew, pointing out the grocery store zombies as they came to investigate.

  Glancing around, Matt could make out another swarm converging on the road about a mile towards the coast. Fuck! He’d messed this right up! The industrial complex would be safe, but it led to nowhere they could escape from. It left only one option.

  “We need to go through the train maintenance depot and then down towards Littlehampton Station. We can use the buildings and tracks to put some distance between us!”

  “We should’ve killed that fat fuck, boss!” moaned Tim.

  “I know. I’m sorry guys, this is on me. I’ll get you out of this, even if I need to hold them back while you get away.”

  “Don’t talk like that. We’re all going to get clear.”

  “Head for the main building and get ready for a fight.”

  “Tickets please,” Max groaned, trying to crack a joke.

  Matt’s glare told him now wasn’t the time.

  Chapter 10

  “No point going for stealth anymore. Break out the shotguns,” Matt said, jogging across the carpark.

  “Won’t it just draw more of them?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. We’re going to try and give them the slip once we get inside and out onto the tracks. I’d sooner pull a few hundred more than lose one of you for the sake of a blast.”

  Ordering them to take cover, Matt surveyed the entrance. A few workers loitered in the shadows, identifiable by the orange high visibility jackets.

  “At least we’ll see them coming,” Matt said, breaking for the door.

  The men followed closely, trying to ignore the increasing roar of hungry cannibals pouring into the carpark close on their heels. Matt lopped off the head of a zombie who came out to meet them. Kicking the twitching parts aside, he pushed everyone through into the lobby. In the gloom, the trapped workers raised their arms and stumbled forward.

  “You lot, finish them off while I block the door!”

  While the prisoners hacked apart the mechanics, a receptionist, and a couple of supervisors, Matt ripped the drinks vending machine from the wall bracket and started to drag it towards the door. It clattered and clunked as loose cans shifted around inside. Thanking God for the smooth floor which stopped the legs snagging, he switched sides and toppled it. Crashing to the floor, fizzing liquids started to spill from around the door seam. With a grunt of effort, he pushed it into place just as the first zombies arrived. Grabbing a heavy leather visitors couch, he added the weight to the obstacle.

  “Bring them!” he shouted, pointing at the bodies.

  They too joined the barricade which was taking shape.

  “Will it hold?” asked Paul.

  “I don’t want it to hold, just buy us enough time to get through to the tracks. I want them following, not jumping out on us when we least expect it.”

  “Gotcha!”

  “Gather your stuff and stay sharp. We’re going through the offices and out into the maintenance yard.”

  As with a lot of Britain’s previously state run industry, the offices were drab but functional. Cheap blue carpet tiles that needed changing a decade ago. Chipboard desks with bulky monitors which would serve better as projectiles for a trebuchet than modern IT practices. Cigarette burns on the melamine lining from a time when smoking in the workplace was permitted. Passing through the building, even the manager’s office was only differentiated by a leather backed chair in place of the cheaper fabric style.

  “And I thought we had it rough,” said Paul, looking at the dreary surroundings.

  “They spend a fortune on us, but since they privatized the railways most of the money goes to shareholders.”

  “Shareholders?”

  “People invest in the business, and they get a share of any money that’s made.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  He didn’t, but no one said anything more on the matter.

  “Here come more of the workers,” said Matt, passing the small canteen.

  Two dozen members of staff had secured themselves with the food and water. What had seemed to be a great idea only prolonged the agony of death. Ignoring their excited groans, Matt pulled the heavy double doors closed and bolted them, sealing the dead inside forever.

  “There’s no point fighting if we don’t have to,” he explained to the confused prisoners.

  Sheathing their weapons, they pressed on through the locker rooms and out into the vast railyard. Dozens of carriages sat under the elongated roof to allow year round repairs to take place.

  “Thank God the rails aren’t electrified,” said Max.

  “I had a real phobia of them when I was younger,” added Paul.

  “I’m not surprised,” replied Matt. “They’ll kill you if you touch them.”

  Paul scowled in annoyance. “I know they’re dangerous, I’m not that stupid. I mean that I used to have nightmares about walking along the tracks and falling over. I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out and touching it. As soon as my finger hit the metal I’d wake up, sweating. I think it was a video they made us watch when we were at school that did it.”

  “I remember that one!” exclaimed Max as the memory returned. “One scene had a boy running onto the tracks to get his football. The camera zoomed in on his shocked face as if it was a train and then you had that bloody awful train horn.”

  “That’s it! The flash as that other kid touched the live rail wasn’t so bad, but the way the guy explained what happens to a body when it gets electrocuted by a voltage that high scared the shit out of me. Catching fire, blood boiling, skin melting, eyeballs cooking.”

  “I don’t remember the eyeballs part, but the rest of it sounded just like the rail safety officer that visited our school.”

  Matt coughed to get their attention. “Are you done? The rails are dead, and so are those things that are chasing us if you hadn’t forgotten.”
>
  “Sorry, boss.”

  “Let’s get moving!”

  “Can I make a suggestion?” asked Max, staring at the cavernous open warehouse.

  “Make it quick. They’ll be through shortly.”

  “You see those things?” Max pointed out a series of blue machinery lined up against the shelter wall.

  “Yeah, they look like pallet trucks. Except a hell of a lot bigger.”

  “They’re mobile carriage lifters. I worked on a couple when I was a mechanic. It’s just an engine with arms.”

  “You’ll have to spell it out for me because I don’t have a clue what you’re getting at.”

  “Why don’t we crush the dead fucks?”

  “What with? The trains aren’t moving because there’s no power, you pillock.”

  “I didn’t mean to drive the train. I meant we push the carriages over on top of the bloody things.”

  Matt walked over and sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

  “No, I’m sober! Look, I can get those things fired up if we can get them to a line of carriages. We set up a dinner bell with a couple of us inside the train, then when they all line up trying to get at us, we tip them.”

  “That’s absolutely fucking nuts.”

  “It would make a good story.”

  “We’d need to get back to tell the bloody story.” Matt growled.

  “It’s either that or we have a couple thousand dead fucks on our tail.”

  “Craig will find our corpses, fuck our corpses, then kill us all over again if we balls this up.”

  “Boss, it’ll work. Trust me.”

  “What do the rest of you say?”

  Not wishing to seem weak, they all agreed, some a little less enthusiastically than others.

  “It’s your arses,” Matt replied.

  “I’ll need to see if I can get them started first.”

  “How’ll you be able to do that?”

  “It’s no different to hotwiring a car, or a boat. It’s just an ignition to bypass.”

  “Do it, but be quick!”

  Watchful of the office’s exit, Matt slowly followed the group as they raced across the tracks. The blockade at the entrance was holding well so far, which might give them enough time to set the crazy plan up. To his left, the tracks stretched away towards the town itself, clear and inviting. A mile of walking over the stony bed would see them at Littlehampton station. From there it was a relatively short walk to the marina gates and victory. But only after they’d butchered any lingering threat that was following. One of the engines rattled as it tried to turn over. A second try and the equipment coughed and caught, the vibration exceedingly loud against the quiet morning.