Changeling: Zombie Dawn (21 page)

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Authors: Steve Feasey

BOOK: Changeling: Zombie Dawn
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The werewolf stepped into the darkness and immediately reeled as the stench hit him.

Trey didn’t need his acute olfactory sense to tell him that this was where the zombies had been waiting: the bloated, rotting stink of them filled the air, so strong it made him gag. When he’d recovered he looked behind him and beckoned for the others to join him. Reluctantly he latched on to that fetid smell – to Trey it appeared as a greenish-brown miasma that disappeared off up the passage to his right.

‘What in the name of all that’s unholy is that smell?’ Tom said as he stepped in behind Alexa.

Death. We need to go to our right.

‘Can you see anything in here, Trey?’ Alexa asked. ‘I could give us some light if you want.’

/
can see well enough to get us safely through. I don 1 think it’s a good idea to light ourselves up in any way. If anything is lurking ahead in these tunnels it would know we were coming. Just place your hand on my back. Tom can do the same to you and we’ll go in single file.

In this way they slowly made their way forward, Trey following the trail and retracing the path that the zombies had taken through the maze of corridors. Something else had been with them – something that had escorted them here to wait for their release. Trey had no idea who or what this escort may have been, but its scent reminded him of the waft that is thrown up when a large rock or log is suddenly turned over – the smell of damp, mouldering earth and burrowing insects. There was something else to it, something ancient and primeval, and this caused an involuntary shudder to knife its way down the lycanthrope’s spine. They walked on, Trey following the trail until he detected the merest hint of a breeze coming from somewhere up ahead. His first instinct was to hurry towards it and escape the stench which still made his stomach roll and lurch, but he slowed to a halt instead, causing Alexa and then Tom to stumble into the back of him.

‘What is it?’ Alexa hissed.

I think there might be an opening ahead,
Trey said, broadcasting to both Alexa and Tom.

‘Good, then let’s go.’

Wait.

Trey allowed himself to remember the last time he’d been in this place, and the terrible things that had happened here. Then, he’d been with the young sorcerer, Charles, and they’d been attacked upon leaving the tunnels and entering the inner bailey on the other side.

There’s a bailey beyond these tunnels that we have to cross to get access to the tower itself. It used to be guarded by small winged demons, but Charles killed them all when we were last here. There are two doors, which can only be opened with sorcery set into the base of the tower, one on either side. I didn’t come in this way before, but I’m guessing it’s directly opposite the exit of these tunnels.

Trey knew that the trouble with using the spell was that his emotions were laid bare to those he was communicating with, and that Alexa and Tom would be all too aware of the paralysing sense of fear he was experiencing right now at the thought of returning to that black tower. Mixed in with the fear were the feelings of guilt and remorse at how his friend had been killed by Caliban and his sorceress Gwendolin, and how Trey had been powerless to help him.

Alexa placed her hand on his back, and he could feel the warmth of it through his fur. ‘It’ll be OK,’ she said.

‘We should get moving,’ Tom said in a low voice.

Trey and Alexa could clearly hear the discomfort in their friend’s voice.

The Irishman leaned his forehead against the cold tunnel wall, resisting the urge to lift his fingers to his cheek. The side of his face that had been gouged by the zombie was already burning with a heat that made it pulsate with pain, and he could feel the infection spreading down his neck. His joints were beginning to ache, as if he was in the early stages of influenza, and he was shocked by how quickly these symptoms had manifested themselves. There was one thing of which he was certain: things were going to get much, much worse. He tightened his grip on the handle of the machete and tried not to think about what the outcome would be if they could not get to Helde in time. Part of him wanted to scream at Trey and Alexa to get moving, to stop procrastinating and get into that tower. But the military man inside him knew that they were doing the right thing: proceeding with caution to ensure that they did not simply hand over the element of surprise to their enemies. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his mouth.

Are you all right, Tom?

‘I’m fine,’ the Irishman said. ‘Don’t you worry about me, lad.’

He’s not fine,
Alexa said to Trey, and he guessed that she was ‘broadcasting’ only to him.
I can feel the heat coming off him. The infection is taking hold.

Trey looked round at his friend. Even in the darkness, he could see how terrible Tom looked.

Let’s go.
He turned, ready to lead the way again, when he caught the merest suggestion of movement up in the deep shadows overhead. He was about to bring this to the attention of the others when they were attacked.

The passageway was filled with the sound of the werewolf’s roar as he felt the muscular tentacle tighten round his neck. With one jerk he was lifted up, his feet leaving the floor as the suffocating grip on his neck was increased. Trey managed to get one hand between his throat and the constricting appendage, pulling as hard as he could to allow himself to breathe. With his other hand he attacked the thing, raking his claws into the blubbery flesh until another tentacle wrapped itself about this wrist and yanked his arm up and back. He could see more of the tentacles falling from a vast black mass overhead, reaching for Tom and Alexa.

Look out! There’s something on the tunnel roof above us! It’s already got me! RUN!

Trey watched as a black tentacle formed into a noose above Tom, ready to be dropped over the Irishman’s head.

Tom! Overhead now!

Trey, his eyes beginning to bulge from the pressure applied round his neck and throat, could only stare ahead helplessly as the Irishman swivelled and swung the machete round in a tight, fast arc about his head. The blade easily sliced through the tentacle, which dropped to the floor with a loud flopping sound. There was a terrible scream from overhead, and Trey got his first look into the mouth of the creature attacking them. The large circular opening, set into the underside of the thing clinging to the roof above them, dilated outward in all directions, giving the werewolf a glimpse of the ring of deadly looking teeth lining its circumference. Behind these a thick black tongue flapped about. And around this foul orifice were the creature’s eyes: eight huge black discs sunk into the flesh stared unblinkingly down at its prey.

‘Light, Alexa! We need light! Now!’ Tom shouted out, staring about him blindly in the dark.

The grip on Trey’s neck was tightened further and his own knuckles, jammed between the snake-like noose and his windpipe, crushed his airway. He was lifted even further from the ground and his vision began to dim as a grey curtain pressed in from all sides.

Help!

Suddenly the light that Tom had demanded filled the tunnel. Alexa stood, looking like a goddess holding a small sun, her eyes screwed up in pain from the sphere of dazzling bright light hovering over the palm of her outstretched hand. The effect was immediate and startling – the black thing clinging to the roof of the tunnel let out a long, piercing ululation. All of the tentacles, including the two that held Trey, were withdrawn in an effort to cover the large black eye-globes set around the mouth. The creature moved incredibly quickly, flowing back along the tunnel and disappearing into the darkness.

Once released, Trey had fallen to the hard floor where he’d crumpled into aheap. Now he stood gingerly, rubbing at his throat, gasping in deep breaths of air. Alexa was looking at him as though she were ready to finish the job that whatever the thing on the roof was had started.

‘Remind me
not
to listen to you in the future, Trey Laporte,’ Alexa said with a shake of her head. ‘What was it you said? “I don’t think it’s a good idea to light ourselves up in any way. If anything is lurking ahead in these tunnels it would know we were coming.”‘

How was I supposed to know that that thing was in here ? It wasn’t last time!

‘Well, neither were Tom and I, but we’re here now! And a good job we were because that thing was about to throttle the life out of you!’

I was fine. Another few seconds and I’d have got free.

‘Another few seconds and your head would have been stuffed into that big mouth!’

‘The main thing is that we’re all all right,’ Tom said, wiping the surface of his blade against his trouser leg.

Trey didn’t say it, but Tom looked
anything
but all right. The Irishman must have read his mind. ‘When I say all right, I mean that thing didn’t kill any of us. And look on the bright side – even if it had, only two of us would have
stayed
dead. I’d have been up and about in a matter of no time.’

Alexa shook her head, unable to keep from smiling at the older man’s grisly humour. ‘I vote we keep the light on until we get out of these tunnels. Any objections?’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Good. Now let’s go and find Helde and put a stop to all of this.’

33

Lucien slowed as he approached the shop that his brother had entered. It was a furniture store: an expensive designer chair with a huge elaborate lamp hanging over it dominated the window space. The interior was dark but his eyes travelled up to the windows above the shop. He tuned into the space, probing it with a predator’s instincts. There were humans up there – humans who had watched the horrors unfold in the street outside and were now clutching each other in terror, too scared to move in the prison that had become their home. He could
feel
their despair.

Lucien hissed, cursing his brother for what he had done here. This was the world that Caliban wanted – a world of fear and subjugation, a world in which he and others like him could hunt freely and murder innocents. He was about to try the door when he felt a now familiar dropping sensation, as if a hole had suddenly opened up in the floor beneath him.

He was inside the shop.

He paused at the door at the rear of the storeroom, sensing the people in the flat above, their fear almost palpable to him. It was delicious, that fear, and it brought a smile to his ancient face. He reached out and tried the handle, knowing

it would be locked. He would mist – disappear on this side and reappear on the other. It was dangerous to do so. Vampires rarely used their teleportation powers unless they could see the place where they intended to rematerialize – there was no telling what might be waiting on the other side of a wall or door and to reappear in the middle of a solid structure would be disastrous. But the need to feed was so strong now that he knew he would take the risk, and he was about to do so when he stopped. Something was wrong. He had the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He turned round and crept back through the storeroom to look out of the front of the shop –

Lucien stepped back, flattening himself against a car, just in time to conceal himself from Caliban’s gaze.

The ancient vampire stood, unmoving, just inside the entrance to the shop. He was in complete shadow and knew that he could not be seen by anyone looking in. He stayed like that for a few moments, stock still, all senses reaching out. Nothing moved in the street. He would have to go out and investigate. Better to be safe than sorry.

Lucien knew he had seconds before Caliban appeared. He turned and spotted a zombie shuffling up the road towards him. There was no sign of the furious, lurching charge that he’d witnessed earlier. It seemed simply to be walking aimlessly about, no doubt hoping to stumble upon any humans that might be in the vicinity.

Lucien did the first thing that came to mind: he grabbed the walking dead creature, spinning it about so that he held it out before him, his hands on its shoulders. The zombie groaned and struggled weakly against the vampire’s attentions, trying to shrug him off with a series of jerky, disjointed movements. Lucien shoved it towards the window.

Caliban was on the verge of misting to the outside of the shop when the zombie appeared at the window. It stumbled forward, hands and face pressed against the glass for a moment, smearing the surface with drool before turning and shuffling off again.

‘Damn these creatures,’ Caliban hissed.

He cursed himself at the same time. He was on edge and he’d allowed these shambling, brainless revenants to get to him. They were a nuisance. First they’d stolen the delicious morsel that he had trapped in the car, and now they were bothering him again while he was on the hunt. This one must have been what he’d sensed spying on him – though it had felt more sinister than that. But it must have seen him enter this place and followed him. He spat, shaking his head in disgust.

‘The sooner I can feed and we can get out of here, the better,’ he said to himself, turning and walking back towards the door that led to the flat overhead and the hot-blooded creatures he would feast upon.

Lucien cocked his head to one side, listening. He considered misting into the interior of the shop and pursuing his brother, but he quickly ruled this out – first he had to get to the people upstairs to warn them of the danger heading their way. He eyed the first-floor window. Like his brother, he was well aware of the risks of reappearing in something solid. He visualized the space behind the window, hoping that it was empty, held his breath and disappeared.

34

Alexa and the others emerged from the tunnels, stepping out into the inner bailey. The tower loomed over them now like a giant obsidian dagger that had been thrust hilt-first into the ground, and they looked up in horror at the gibbets hanging from numerous points around the structure, many of which were occupied by the corpses of nether-creatures in various states of decay. Trey kept his eyes glued to the skies, half expecting an attack from the small winged demons that had descended on him the last time he was here with Charles. None came, but Trey was still anxious to get inside the tower and away from this place – this had also been where Caliban had attacked them as they’d made their escape and where Charles had given up his life to save Trey.

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