Hellspawn Odyssey (25 page)

“Does anyone want to hear from the radio? We can see if there is any news?” John asked as they settled in for the night. He pulled out the wind up radio from his backpack and Kurt explained the most up to date news they had received from the husky voiced lady in the centre of London.

“Yeah sure. Some good news would go down well right now,” DB said.

“What was the latest that you had from your superiors, if you don’t mind me asking?” Kurt inquired of the two soldiers.

“Nothing. We are on total need to know lockdown. Because of the few deserters at the start of this mess, the brass has been treating us like mushrooms,” Jonesy said with anger.

“Mushrooms?” Jodi said, confused at the meaning.

“Kept in the dark and fed on shit,” DB explained to her and they all laughed at the analogy.

“It was another reason we left. We joined the army to kick ass, not sit behind fences while the world died. We felt we could do more good on the streets.” Jonesy laid bare their motives to the group and Jodi reached over, taking his hand and giving it a small kiss.

“You are heroes,” she smiled.

John finished winding the charging point and tuned the channel in. The airwaves were dead. Only silence transmitted from the speakers and the group felt like they had lost a close friend. The lady had been a comfort through the first weeks of survival and now she was gone.

“Sorry folks, call of nature,”
shrieked the radio where John had turned the volume to full, desperate to see if it was just too quiet. The group jumped as one and then burst out laughing.

“This is Gabrielle, calling out to any remaining survivors. We have been through the meat grinder and come out unscathed. If you are safe, stay that way. Keep warm, keep fed and stay out of sight. Our friends outside have mostly left the area completely now. The zombies that remain are thin on the ground so they are moving somewhere. I just pray it’s not towards you.”

“She sounds sexy,” stated DB with a grin.

“After being cooped up for months, you’d probably find my voice sexy,” joked Jonesy and they all laughed. DB jumped on top of him, pinned him down and smothered his face with kisses.

“Get off, you bloody lump!” Jonesy said through bouts of raucous laughter.

“Guys, listen.” John hushed them and the woman got to the important bit of her broadcast.

“Our power has been steady for over a week now, so whatever the government engineers were working on, it’s now fixed. We can only assume it was old power lines requiring attention that interrupted our supply. We have heard a few words on the emergency frequency from the bunker, but at present they have not managed to get their equipment working correctly and we are awaiting a full message of their intended action and response to the catastrophic events of the past months.”

“About damn time!” John sighed.

“Ladies and gents, I’m afraid we also received some more bad news the other day. The fortification and armed forces at the Porton Down site were overrun by the dead. We maintained contact until the last moment, but by all accounts, very few had managed to relocate when the zombies breached the outer defences. Without regular supply lines, they did the best they could against impossible odds. There was no time to evacuate the science laboratories and all research has been deemed lost. I don’t need to tell you what a blow that is for the fight back against the dead legions. The Daresford Institute has confirmed that breakthroughs were being made in the biological component of the outbreak and they feel without syncing their efforts, a solution is unlikely. I would like anyone listening to be silent for a minute to pay their respects.”

“Oh, man.” DB was in tears. Seeing the big man crying was symbolic of the band of brother’s mentality in the military. They all lowered their heads and said a prayer for the fallen.

“God bless each and every one of you. I am going to sleep for a month and pray this mess sorts itself out. Wake me when we have won.”
She ended the broadcast with a level of dejection that was well known to the group.

“Well I wish I hadn’t bothered,” John threw the radio back into his pack and lay down, turning his back to the rest of the group.

“Don’t sweat it, Dad, get some rest. We are going to be up against it tomorrow.” Kurt leaned over and squeezed John on the shoulder to try and make him feel better. He wasn’t responsible for the remorseless nature of their foe. Their definitions of combat strategy would need to adapt if they were ever to beat back enemies that didn’t need to eat or sleep and experienced no fear or doubt.

Dawn broke and their eyes opened almost in unison. Their dreamlike haze where they were safe and in the old world faded. Looking at the hospital walls, the nerves at the coming undertaking grew until they all had a heavy weight in the pit of their stomach. The soldiers were out of bed and ready to move, checking the moving parts of their guns for functionality. They carried the last of their belongings onto the roof and tied the three sections of rope they had made the previous night around the steel service pipework. At one meter intervals the soldiers had tied knots to give a hand hold.

“Kurt, we will cover you from up here,” DB informed him.

“John, Braiden, and Sam will give you close cover from the ground, agreed?” Jonesy asked and they all nodded.

The two soldiers took up positions and laid out their magazines on the wall to give easy access should they run out. In total they had over three hundred rounds ready to fire, more than they needed for the zombies that hovered close by. Their drill sergeant had always instilled the mantra; better to have and not need, than need and not have. This was the difference between life and death on the battlefield.

“Guys, get ready!” Jonesy nodded to DB and they shouldered their rifles and started firing. The muzzle coughed with a flash and the silenced rounds found their targets, drilling through the skulls with an explosive mist of blood vapour. The dead fell to the ground, spilling their brains onto the concrete. The area immediately around the Foxhound was clear and Kurt, John, and Braiden shimmied down the ropes. It was a little awkward with their arm shields and body armour, so they took their time. Reaching the ground, Kurt opened the vehicle doors and dragged the soldier’s bodies clear, placing them under the canopy and laying them with as much dignity as time allowed. Sam had joined them and took out his slingshot that had been fitted with fresh banding from the spare roll he carried. They couldn’t afford for any mistakes.

“Ok, start lowering the gear,” Kurt said quietly. The ropes had been pulled up while they prepared the area and had been tied to packages of medicine, ammunition and the spare guns. Tinned food had been put into laundry bags for the journey and to give them time to carry out the task of securing the castle, without having to worry about foraging for meals.

Gloria kept a close watch on the massive bulk of the dead that had started to lose interest in the pile of rubble that used to house eighty families within the city of Chichester. Thankfully, the gunfire was too quiet to signal their whereabouts and the loading went easily.

“We are all set,” Kurt called up. Sarah tied a harness that they had made for Honey and lowered her carefully. She couldn’t get used to the feeling and kept trying to run, but only managing to kick her legs in mid-air until she touched down and shook herself.

“Sorry girl, you didn’t like that did you?” Sam asked and she sneezed.

“We have you covered,” DB called down and moved to the front of the building to cover the retrieval of the second Foxhound.

“Folks, six per vehicle, get mounted and buckle up, we will be down when the coast is clear. Make sure to shut the doors and keep your heads down,” ordered Jonesy, picking off two more cadavers that had appeared from the back of their hospital block.

Christina, Peter, Sarah, Sam, Gloria, and John climbed aboard and sat in the bucket seats that would normally hold rough and ready trained professionals. Honey stood guard at the windows, scanning the road. The others filed off to the main entrance of the building, happy to see DB’s muzzle flash as it kept them safe. They formed a crescent around the rear door of the vehicle and they prepared to do battle. Kurt took a quick glance inside and three zombies hammered at the windows.

“Three,” Kurt whispered as he took hold of the handle, “Ready?” They all nodded, weapons poised. Kurt yanked and the door swung open. The first zombie spilled out and Jodi swung her bat in a downward arc with all the power she could muster. The skull shattered and the bat tore down through the front of the skull, taking the jaw with it.

“Oh shit!” Mike yelled and they turned to see what had scared him. A crowd of nearly one hundred poured from the other side of the building.

“Where the fuck did they come from?” Kurt called up to DB who started picking them off.

“Dunno, but you need to hustle!” he shouted down, changing magazines in the gun.

Jodi had swung again and another zombie fell to the ground, still alive. Paige dropped to her knees and hacked at the head, splitting it into pieces. Braiden reached in and grabbed the uniform of the remaining zombie, pulling it out and throwing it to the tarmac. He stabbed straight through the top of its head and let it fall, circling around to face the growing horde that descended on them.

“Fuck! Jonesy, get your ass over here!” DB cried out, pulling at his gun, trying to release a jam in the chamber.

“I can’t, we have company at the first Fox!” came the yelled reply.

“Jodi, get inside and get it started while we hold them off!” shouted Kurt and she stepped over the bodies, climbing aboard.

“Fuck that, why don’t we just get inside and shut the doors?” shrieked Debbie.

“If they surround it, we will end up like those poor bastards!” Kurt pointed at the stranded vehicle where the undead still flailed underneath, trapped by the crushing weight.

Jodi pressed the button and the engine just turned over without starting. She pressed the button again and had the same result, “It’s not starting!” Jodi shouted from the front seat.

“Keep trying, give it some gas!” Mike called back.

“Everyone get ready!” said Kurt breathlessly. The fresher zombies were only a few paces away and Kurt, Braiden, and Paige dodged forward and backwards, slashing at the heads. The first few fell but the next group was nearly twenty strong. The engine coughed briefly and then died again. They were so focused on the dead; they didn’t see Debbie and Mike exchange murderous looks. Mike moved behind Kurt and Debbie behind Braiden. This was the opportunity they had been waiting for. Instead of killing them quickly with the blade of the hand axes, they took them by the steel heads and swung for the back of Kurt and Braiden’s skulls. Debbie moved a split second before Mike and the crack of wood on bone warned Kurt, who ducked to the right in the nick of time. The wooden handle caught him on the ear, splitting it and ripping the top section. Braiden had fallen hard to the ground, unconscious. Mike cursed as Kurt screamed his pain and jumped back just in time to miss the swing of Kurt’s bloodied hammer. 

“You’re fucking dead!” roared Kurt with rage, ready to run at the retreating pair. He was torn between revenge and protecting Braiden.

“I’ve got the mother fuckers!” bellowed DB as he cleared the jam in his gun. Mike and Debbie bolted, clouds of concrete dust puffing up with the bullets that ricocheted on the ground in their wake.

The zombies were nearly on them and Kurt knew that their time was up, this was the end. DB was firing rapidly, and Paige was trying to pull Braiden’s weight toward the Foxhound. It would never be enough; they would soon be overrun and devoured. Their eyes met and she smiled; the most loving and genuine look of thanks and trust that he had ever witnessed. Kurt hacked at another, cracking the head open like an egg.

“Tell Peter I love him. Tell Braiden he is the bravest young man I’ve ever known. Keep them all safe, Kurt.” She threw a small photograph at him and ran forwards, arms held wide to embrace the monstrous dead.

“Paige!
No
!” Kurt screamed.

She hit the first zombies and clothes lined them, dropping on top of the writhing mass she had knocked over. They clutched at her, pulling her limbs to their mouths and ripping into her. The rest of the group piled on top, smothering her and tearing into her midriff, pulling intestines and organs out, veins still attached and pumping a scarlet spray over the cadavers. Her face was a mask of pain, but she stared at him and he could almost hear her telepathic cries,
Go! Get to safety!
DB had aimed carefully, pressing the trigger gently while breathing out a cloud of chilled breath. The bullet punched through her forehead, snapping it back, mercifully ending her torment.

“God,
No
! Jesus, dear God, why?” Kurt shouted at the sky as he hefted Braiden onto his shoulder.

“Kurt, move your ass,
now
!” DB yelled, knowing the emotions that would be battering at Kurt’s psyche. It was no different when he had lost friends on the battlefields of Afghanistan to the Taliban. The time to mourn would come if they ever made it out of this mess.

Jodi tried the engine one last time after pumping on the gas pedal. It coughed and choked, finally caught, and roared as she held her foot down, giving it full throttle. Kurt flopped into the back with Braiden’s unconscious body.

“Get us out of here!” Kurt yelled.

Jodi wrestled with the gears, grinding it into first with no finesse. The tens of thousands of dead had heard the activity and their massed moan flooded over them. Like a plague of locusts, they would wash over the survivors and pick their bones clean. Kurt pulled the rear door shut, after taking one last look at his fallen friend. Paige’s sacrifice had worked. The ones who had been close to reaching them were fighting over themselves to reach the last morsels of her meat. Tears flowed as he seated himself, feeling the judder as the vehicle bounced over rotting obstacles. They pulled alongside the first Foxhound and the confused faces of his friends peered out.

Sarah mouthed,
‘Where are the others?’
and Kurt’s face answered without words. A black well of hatred formed in the pit of his stomach and only the blood of those murderous bastards would suffice to fill it. He prayed with all his soul that they would survive so that he could torture them for hours before he snuffed their life forces. The rest started to console each other and Peter had to be held back to prevent him jumping out to try and help.

Jonesy hopped in the first armoured troop carrier and gunned the engine, moving away down the road. DB had climbed in with Jodi and was happy to leave her driving.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry mate. I couldn’t get the jam cleared in time.” He held himself responsible for her death. It was only a cruel stroke of fate that caused the weapon malfunction and Kurt patted him on the back, unable to speak through the sobbing.

Braiden was coming round, groaning and feeling the growing bump on the rear of his skull.

“What happened?” he asked, groggy with possible concussion.

Kurt could only shake his head and Braiden looked around frantically, seeing the empty seats.

“Dad, where’s Paige?” he asked quizzically, refusing to accept what his eyes were telling him. Instead of answering, Kurt grabbed him and held him in a bear hug until the young boy broke and started to wail. He thrashed and struggled but Kurt just held him tighter, smothering his hatred with love.

“She’s with her baby now, mate. She will be happy,” Kurt gasped with emotion.

“And those cunts?” Braiden was still bucking, desperate to help their lost friend.

“They ran off; they are probably dead too. If not, we will find them, and we will kill them slow,” Kurt promised, reddened eyes meeting reddened eyes in mutual despair. Braiden stopped fighting and hugged his dad close, taking strength from the contact and steely resolve in his eyes.

DB had climbed into the gunnery seat and it rotated to the rear. The heavy gun chattered and the smoking cases fell tinkling like snowbells into the Foxhound, bouncing around on the metal floor.

“Kurt, grab that box! Rip the lid off and pull the first part of the belt out,” DB called down as the final rounds were drawn through the firing chamber. He reached down and took it, loading the gun and commenced firing short, controlled bursts.

The roads were blocked and they could only move at walking pace as the heavy vehicles muscled through, compressing metal bodywork. The row of dead stretched back for a mile or more and was gaining by inches each time the lead Foxhound slowed to clear a blockage. The bullets tore into the mass of flesh but were having no effect. DB thought back to his younger years where he would pretend to throw stone grenades at the incoming waves on the beach. Each projectile would be swallowed without slowing the roiling water in the slightest.

“Jodi, flash the headlights and get Jonesy’s attention,” DB ordered and she complied without hesitation. The forward vehicle stopped and Jonesy opened the driver’s door to see what was going on.

“We don’t have time to stop, they are on our asses!” he shouted with annoyance.

“No shit, Sherlock!” replied DB. “Brother, we need to make it rain,”

“As soon as we break radio silence, Baxter will be on our asses!” Jonesy protested but the rotting tide was approaching.

“Ideas?” DB shrugged.

“Do it!” Jonesy shouted and climbed back in, revving the engine and pushing the next car out of the way.

DB turned on a small radio and it crackled into life. They had a private frequency that a lot of the troops on Thorney Barracks used to avoid the ears of their superior since the world fell. It would only remain secret for a few minutes before those scanning locked on to the signal. He prayed the guys hadn’t lost their nerve and could still be called upon to help.

“Alcatraz this is Eastwood, come in, over,” DB said and waited.