Devouring The Dead (Book 2): Nemesis (6 page)

He nudged her and she stirred. He nudged her again, harder, and she woke. She looked around the room and tugged at the
binding that held her to the bed, naked and spread-eagled over the quilt.

“Did you get a good rest, Keisha?” said Lazarus undressing.

“Please let me go, I...I...” She felt too tired to cry. She was too exhausted to even plea for her life anymore. She knew he wasn’t going to release her. He had kept her here for three days, only untying the ropes so she could go to the bathroom, and even then, it was under armed guard. She watched him undress and felt the nausea creep over her. He was a big man; muscled, stocky, swarthy, and he was already aroused.

Lazarus climbed onto the bed and held his face above hers. “Keisha, my dear,” he said, stroking her exquisite light brown skin, “I hope you rested,
because I do not intend for you to get much sleep tonight.”

She turned her face away as he looked at her, his dark
brown eyes only inches from hers. She could smell the stale sweat on him, and his long black hair dangled down, brushing her shoulders. She tensed as she felt his hardness on her belly. How much longer would he keep her a prisoner here?

“Don’t
worry, my dear, I shall free you soon.” Lazarus pushed himself inside the young girl and clamped his hand over her mouth to drown out the screams.

* * * *

Walker wound his way through the castle, passing the battlements until he reached the tower. As he went out, he could smell the sea air and he felt like he was living out a fantasy, living the life of a soldier in this castle, just living off the land. He was almost surprised there wasn’t a pirate ship anchored in the bay.

Ed threw his cigarette quickly over the tower ledge when he saw Walker approach. “
Evening, Walker.”

“Ed. Anything?” Walker stood beside him. Ed was an athletic man, popular with the rest of the men
on The Mount. He had been an unexpected guest, but a welcome one. They found him by accident, but he joined them with no quarrels. The others still sometimes took the piss out of his Australian accent. He had been on a working holiday when the infection had started, doing odd jobs for cash, living the surfer’s lifestyle.

“Some sweet waves
, but otherwise no, all good, mate. It’s quiet as fuck out here. Getting cold too.” Ed hoped Walker hadn’t seen the cigarette he had been smoking from his private stash. They were worth more than money now.

Walker nodded. “Boss says you can head in now if you like. Head on down to the dungeons
. Entertainment’s on tonight, apparently.”

“Fucking A,” said Ed rubbing his hands together. “You coming?”

“In a minute. Just need to clear my head first.” Walker leaned over the parapet and looked at the beach below. Waves were washing over the rocks at the tower’s base and there was no doubt the swell was increasing. A storm was definitely coming in.

“Right you
are, mate,” said Ed. “Hanging around the boss too long would give anyone a headache. I don’t know how you do it. I mean fair play he’s got us sorted, but he’s a bit, you know,
off
, eh?”

Walker eyeballed Ed. “Be careful what you say. The walls have
ears, you know. I would hate to hear of any
rumours
that you were...doubting him.”

The inference was clear and Ed knew what Walker was alluding
to. He had been present when Ricardo was murdered. He hadn’t totally agreed with it, but he knew why it had to be done. The world had changed since he had left Melbourne and his family behind. He missed his brother Evan and his niece and nephew. With any luck, Australia had escaped this terrible infection, but he didn’t know. There was certainly no way back now. The world of politicians and policemen was gone. This was a time for leaders and men. Lazarus was a born leader, Ed could see that.

“Yes sir.” Ed left Walker alone
and made his way down to the dungeons. He ignored the faint screams coming from the master bedroom upstairs. He knew Lazarus kept one for himself and it was best not to question it.

Ignoring the historical flags and pennants on the walls,
Ed passed through doorways, treading carefully over the raised stone lip in each, until he found himself at the dungeon’s entrance. There were three cells, each one small and damp. It was cold, since there was no natural sunlight and as he walked in, he felt the temperature drop almost instantly.

“
G’day, Norm,” said Ed as he walked in. “Boss says it’s on tonight.”

“How’s it going,
Ed? Yeah, well lucky you, you’re the first here so make the most of it. Once the others get here it’ll be carnage, you know how it goes.”

Ed laughed as Norm got up and handed him a set of keys to the cells. Norm was not the brightest of men
, but was well suited to prison guard. He was a huge man, at least six feet high and almost as wide. Ed guessed that when he got the chance he probably helped himself to the entertainment. It would be easy, because nobody guarded the guard.

Ed took the keys and looked into the first cell. Cowering in a dark corner was a girl, dressed in jeans and a blue top. She was curled into a ball and whimpering. She was caked in filth and dirt
, and he could smell the shit on her.

“
For crying out loud, Norm, can’t you at least keep ‘em clean?”

N
orm didn’t answer, just sat back down on the chair provided for him and watched Ed walk down to the second cell. There was another woman, this time much older, perhaps in her fifties. She was lying on a mattress and she looked like she was asleep. She was naked and in good shape. Ed thought about it, but decided not to. This one was in a very deep sleep and if he woke her, she would be liable to scream the place down. By the time he’d calmed her down, the others would be here and then she’d be shared around before he even got a look in.

Ed moved onto the final cell.
A woman stood gripping the bars and spat in Ed’s face.

“You
fucking sadistic degenerate!” She drew back to spit at him again, but Ed ducked to the side and her saliva dribbled down the cold stone wall behind him.

Ed smiled as he wiped his cheek. “All right
then, darling, having fun are we?”

“Fuc
k you, you pig, fuck all of you. What the fuck are you doing? How can you treat us like this? How can you lock us up?”

Ed looked the woman up and down. He had screwed her yesterday
, but she had been so out of it, she probably didn’t even recognise him. Sometimes they had to supply the entertainment with drugs to keep them going, that and to stop them topping themselves.

The woman stood back from the bars when she realised Ed wasn’t scared of her. He liked her
. She was slim, in her late twenties, had glorious blonde hair, and plenty of character. She reminded him of the girls at home and he felt a pang of homesickness. She only had a blanket and held it around her as if it might protect her.

He dangled the keys in front of her. “Just shut
up, will you? Now you know how this works er...Sal?”

“You don’t even know my
name, do you? I’m just a piece of meat to you, nothing more than that, isn’t that true? Where are your morals? Eh? What would your family think of what you’re doing?”

“
My family? My family is on the other side of the world, probably dead. Don’t try it on with me. You want to talk about morals?” Ed’s laughter echoed around the small dungeon. “They’re part of the old world now, darling.” He stepped up to the bars and stared at her. “Now are you gonna be a good girl, or do I have to get my friend Norm to help me out?”

Sally was quiet and her spirit sank. She knew she couldn’t fight them. Two days
ago, they had captured her and she had lost count of the number of times she had been raped since. The woman in the cell next to her, Eve, had been here a week and had tried to kill herself last night. Norm had caught her trying to slit her own wrists with a small stone that had crumbled from the wall. He’d taken the stone, swept her cell, and left her without food and water since.

“I’ll be good,” whispered Sally. She watched as Ed unlocked her cell and he stood in the doorway looking at her. She dropped the blanket to the floor and tried to fight back the fear that threatened to engulf her. Trembling, she sat down on the dirty mattress as Ed walked over to her.

As he raped her, she wondered if her friend Keisha was still alive. She wondered if her parents were still alive. And she wondered if she would ever get out of here alive. When she heard the footsteps and laughter of the other men approach, she tuned out completely, praying that someone would come and rescue her from this never-ending nightmare.

CHAPTER FOUR

Harry’s stomach growled and he decided this would be the last one for tonight. They had been going from door to door all afternoon and achieved little. Ignoring his hunger, he looked up at the sky. The sun was low and soon the light was going to be too small to see by safely. From his hiding place behind the low-hanging branches of an apple tree he motioned for Moira to come over to him. He watched as she cast a quick glance around the garden before scampering over.

They had followed the usual process which had kept them safe so far
. Always watch before entering a new property, whether it was a house, a shop, or a garage. Always look and listen first. The previous house had looked empty, but they had waited, and sure enough, after a few minutes, they had seen a figure pass by a window. Five minutes later and it had stumbled right up against the glass. They could see it was dead, trapped inside and unable to free itself. They moved on.

“What do you reckon?”
whispered Moira crouching down beside Harry.

“I reckon this is a good one
. This is the last one though. We need to get back before it gets dark. You set?” Harry felt his stomach muscles tighten. It wasn’t hunger anymore, it was fear.

Moira nodded. “Set.” She let Harry take the lead and he walked up to the back door. They had been waiting in the garden for around thirty minutes and
saw no evidence of there being anyone inside. The tall hedge around the garden kept them well hidden from the street, but they were still cautious. The dead could appear from anywhere and it only took a second. Even when you felt safe you had to keep your guard up.

Harry discreetly wrapped a cloth around a large stone he found and smashed the window. He brushed aside the broken glass and reached through to open the door. It opened easily and nodding for Moira to follow him, he disappeared inside the house.

Moira’s deep orange hair flashed brilliantly in the low evening sunlight as she crept across the garden, her pale skin almost shining. The rucksack on her back weighed down on her thin frame, but she was content. She knew she carried important things they needed to survive: food, matches, and even a few little extras for treats. She stood up as she neared the house and went through the open doorway after Harry.

“I’ll go upstairs,
check out the medicine cabinet. You look around down here, see what you can find, all right?” said Harry, disappearing through another doorway not waiting for a reply. They had done this so many times it almost didn’t need saying. Invariably Harry would take the upstairs floor and look for medicine first. They needed vitamins, creams, tablets; anything that would help Caterina both now and later. Moira’s main task was to search for food. Her rucksack currently contained six tins of sliced pears, three tins of rice pudding and one sweet corn, plus a packet of crackers and two slabs of dark chocolate. Just thinking about it made her mouth salivate and she was already thinking about getting back to the others so they could eat.

This was the
fifth house they had broken into today. Together with Harry, she had managed to gather a few supplies and she knew he had found some useful things for Caterina. They hadn’t ventured too far from the others, from home as it currently was. They were still on the same street, just a few doors down. The back gardens made for a difficult path between the houses. Often they had to climb over fences or through thick hedges, but it was safer than the other option. The first day out together, they had tried to take the road, but had instantly drawn an unwelcome following of zombies and had soon abandoned that idea. So, they stealthily crept through undergrowth, accruing scratches on their hands and arms, but still alive.

Moira heard Harry’s footsteps above her, and looked around. They had come directly into a dining room
. She saw a large table with six high-backed chairs around it in the centre, various cupboards and shelves around it against the walls. The window at the far end looked out onto the road and the curtains were not drawn, so she kept low and scuttled over to them, pulling the curtains shut quickly. Standing up again, she could now look around easier. On one shelf she noticed a stack of books and reading the titles found one she liked the look of.

“
The Shawshank Redemption
,” she said aloud. She stuffed it into her bag. Just because it was the end of the world didn’t mean she had to give up reading. She still pined for her days at the library, but they would never return, so now she took the opportunity to read whenever she could. Such peaceful times were rare.

Past the stairs,
she saw the kitchen through an open doorway and made straight for the cupboards. Most were empty. It was a common occurrence which was extremely annoying. Moira reckoned that a lot of people had left, trying to escape the infection, and had probably taken most of their food with them, leaving only perishables behind. Moira found nothing of use, only mouldy biscuits and a cereal box that had fed a mouse or a rat until it was used up. There was nothing she could add to her collection of tin cans, so she tried the fridge. Moira found something green and mouldy growing at the back, and a carton of milk that smelt very off. Yet again, she had drawn a blank and found nothing edible.

The kitchen was proving to be useless. The sink was full of dirty
dishes and cutlery, cups and mugs, idling in stagnant water. The plants on the kitchen sill were covered in mildew and cobwebs hung from every corner. She peered through the peephole in the doorway and looked out onto the street outside. It seemed deserted and they wanted to keep it that way. She thought she might go upstairs to help Harry when she noticed another doorway at the back of the kitchen and she pushed it open. The room was quite dark, just a small amount of light coming through a tiny oblong window which was open and letting in a cool draft. It was actually pleasant, much better than the stale air in the kitchen.

Moira
looked around the utility room: a washing machine, a basket of wooden pegs, a shelf full of cloths, polish and bleach. Against one wall was a chest freezer. A pool of water surrounded it on the flat concrete floor. Moira noticed on the lid a photograph in a small six by four silver frame. Approaching it, she saw the picture was of a young boy eating a chocolate ice-cream, his hair blowing in his face, and a sunny beach in the background. Against all the darkness the boy’s smile was radiant and Moira smiled herself.

Either side of the frame were two candles that had burned themselves down to nothing but stumps. Low blackened wicks stood proud
ly in pools of dried wax. On the freezer lid rested a bouquet of flowers that had long since wilted and withered away. Moira picked them up and felt them crumble in her hands, the brown crusty petals tumbling to the floor, brittle stalks snapping easily in her fingers. The freezer suddenly jolted, and surprised, Moira dropped the flowers at her feet.

She looked at the socket on the wall
. The freezer was still plugged in, but she knew it couldn’t be on as all power had gone off weeks ago. The freezer jolted again, as if it was trying to spring back into life. The frame wobbled and then toppled over, the boy on the beach falling face down into the candle wax. Moira reached out, her fingers touching the freezer’s handle, when another hand clamped itself on hers.

She retracted her hand and spun around to see Harry behind her. Moira let out a long sigh, unaware she had been holding her breath. “
Shit, Harry, you made me jump.”

“Let’s
go, Moira, you ready?” In the dim light Moira saw the tiredness on his face. It wasn’t just the hunger or the fatigue of surviving; he was still grieving.

“Yeah I just...”

“No, Moira. We don’t need to know what – or who – is in there. Best to leave it be,” Harry said, lifting his hand to her shoulder.

Moira tugged on the straps over her shoulder
s, tightening them so the backpack nestled closely against her spine. She whispered to Harry. “What if they’re all right. What if someone’s hiding in there? I think a little boy lived here and...”

“Moira, listen to me. Whoever is in that freezer is not alive. If it was
someone hiding when we came in then how did they put the things back on the lid? If it was someone put in there for safe keeping then I’m afraid they would be long dead. That’s airtight and judging by how long those flowers have been dead, they would have suffocated days ago at least. I’m sorry, Moira, but no good can come from opening that lid.”

Moira remembered the smile on the boy’s face. He was so happy. She wanted a part of that, a part of his happiness, to know he was still happy. Deep down though she knew Harry was right. There was no way the boy could still be alive, not now.

“You’re right, I know. Let’s get home.” Moira gave Harry the best smile she could manage.

Harry led the way back out of the house and Moira looked behind her as she left the utility room,
the freezer bouncing on its feet one last time. Maybe one day she would see and experience real happiness instead of having to read about it in books.

* * * *

As Caterina dozed, Christina flicked though a wedding album she found buried in amongst a shoebox full of photos in the oak bureaux. The bride and groom were currently being showered in confetti and looked deliriously happy. In fact, everyone looked happy. As she turned the pages, she saw more smiling faces: women and men, old and young. She wondered if the people who had lived here were the wedding couple. The bedroom she shared with Cat offered no clues. There were no other photos on the walls or shelves, there was no wedding dress hanging in the closet, and no wedding rings at the bedside.

Glancing at her
watch, Christina saw it was getting late. The others would be back soon. They had decided they would eat as a group, and share out equal portions. The more they shared, the closer they felt. They chanced upon this house three days back and Christina managed to sleep well here. They had been on the road for days. Sleeping and resting was never easy with one eye open. She looked over at the silent Caterina, someone who seemed to have no problem sleeping. Even though Christina was no relative and only met Cat a few weeks ago, she felt proud. Cat was so young, but so strong to be going through all of this while nearly six months pregnant.

Christina sat on the end of the bed waiting for Cat to wake and for the others to return, and turned another page of the album. The photo was of the bride and groom again, this time on the church steps with the priest in the middle, grinning foolishly as the sun bounced off his bald
head. Christina remembered her own wedding only vaguely now. She thought at the time that she would never be happier, but her marriage only lasted a year. The wedding was at a small church, much like the one in the photo, but she didn’t remember confetti. She could still picture her husband, Karl, looking at her with such love as she walked down the aisle. What she would give to see him again.

They had met and married within a year, even talked of having children. Karl had been eager to settle down
, but Christina focussed on her investment company. It was still in its infancy back then and she dedicated herself to building it up. She wanted it to grow bigger and better than all of the others. Unfortunately, she spent so much time on it that she neglected her marriage. She still felt bitter the way it had ended; how quickly she had divorced the only man she had ever loved and how quickly she immersed herself in the business world instead, telling herself it was for the best. She convinced herself of that for many years.

She was powerless to stop the wry grin on her face from spreading as an image of her yacht popped into her mind. Was it still anchored or had it been stolen, torn down, drift
ing away unattended? Both her homes would be empty or burnt down. Her bank balance was most likely still intact, but it may as well be on Mars. A packet of matches was worth more now than a few million pounds in the bank. Would she trade the millions in her bank for a family like this in the album? She looked again at the happy couple. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, she thought. If she had settled down and had children back then with Karl then she wouldn’t be the person she is now. Who knows what would have happened.

She look
ed over at Cat, still sleeping. They had forged a bond, no doubt about it. The natural maternal instincts must have been there, buried deep within her and squashed under a pile of banknotes and paperwork. Why had she given up so easily on Karl? Was she scared, ambitious? Did she succumb to peer pressure? No, the truth was it was just greed. Christina looked at a stylish photograph of the wedding cake, a white tower of sugary sweetness. She couldn’t deny the past, couldn’t change it. It was there no matter how you looked at, there for all to see in black and white. Only the future can be changed. She listed to Cat’s peaceful breathing and knew she still had a chance to forge a better future, for both herself and others.

Christina turned a page and the bride was sitting in the middle of a park, huge trees towering above her with bright green grass beneath her feet. An array of colourful flowers adorned the garden’s edge: roses, hyacinths, rhododendrons and even more that
Christina couldn’t name. She began to wonder what would happen to them. No doubt they were now overgrown, the gardener most likely dead or undead. Would the infection leave them alone, let the grass and the trees grown? Would it spread through the animal kingdom, leaving the flora alone? Perhaps the Earth would return to normal, to a more natural state, a world without men or beasts. Her thoughts were interrupted when Caterina stirred and sat up on the bed.