The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 4) (37 page)

As they disappeared into the darkness there was a sudden flash, and the world seemed to implode around the veteran. The explosives detonated, blasting away the supports and a large portion of the ceiling, vaporising Sebastian, Ron, and the two dogs in a violent burst of heat and light. The shockwave raced along the narrow corridor, sucking away all the air while flinging people in all directions and smashing them into the walls and one another, breaking limbs and crushing skulls in the process. Everything went black and the high-pitched ring of the explosion’s aftermath filled the passageway, pressing inwards against the eardrums of the living and sending them into shock as they gasped for air through their flattened and deflated lungs.

There was nothing but darkness as people’s vision blurred and swirls of dust and debris plumed through the tunnel. Kyle coughed, choking on the clouds of smoke that billowed around him and the clumps of dirt that clogged his mouth and nose. He spat, trying to clear his throat as he crawled out of the shallow grave he had found himself buried in. He felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He groaned and he reached into his jacket, feeling the wet and warm blood that was seeping from the wound. His fingers ran over something hard and jagged that was protruding from the flesh. He hissed and grunted, biting down against the pain as the foreign body rasped against the torn edges of his skin.

He rolled over and scratched at the ground, his mind jumbled and barely able to breathe as he crawled on his hands and knees while searching for his machinegun. The sound of people groaning around him brought him back to earth, his senses quickly returning.

There was a loud rumble followed by a mighty crash from behind him. The street above them was collapsing, the buildings tumbling in on themselves and smashing through their own foundations, threatening to collapse the entire tunnel.

“Move,” he yelled, suddenly realising the danger they were in of being buried alive. He climbed to his feet, grabbing and shaking the nearest body that he came into contact with. “Come on, get up and move.”

He stumbled forward, his knees buckling and his head spinning. He kicked at the people that were sprawled all around him and squirming in the dirt or lying in shocked silence. His light passed over Tina. She was staring back at him, her eyes bulging from her blackened face and her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Get up and help me. The whole place is going to fall on our heads,” the veteran roared, dragging her to her feet and throwing her forward.

More people began to recover, lifting themselves up from the ground and helping the shocked and injured survivors around them. There were a number of bodies that were incapable of moving, the life having been sucked from them when the shockwave tore along the corridor and ripped through their bodies.

“Take care of the dead,” Stan wheezed, sputtering from the dust that was clogging his throat. “Don’t leave them to come back.”

The man he had been carrying was unresponsive and he could not find a pulse. There was no time to attempt resuscitation, and Stan had no choice but to leave him where he was. He pulled out his knife and slammed the blade down through the old man’s forehead, wiggling the hilt from side to side and ensuring that the brain had been damaged enough to leave it incapable of reanimating.

“What happened?” Tina groaned, climbing up from the ground and steadying herself against the wall. “I thought we had two minutes on the fuse?”

“Obviously we didn’t,” Kyle snorted

He coughed and turned to shine his light back along the tunnel behind them. He could see nothing but clouds of billowing dust and hear the constant rumble of collapsing masonry.

“Where’s Ron and Seb?”

“They’re gone. The charge must’ve blown the second they lit the fuse.”

They struggled forward, climbing over the prostrate corpses that littered the ground. There were at least fifteen who had been killed in the blast, their frail bodies unable to withstand the shock of the detonation or the impacts as they were launched into the walls and the support beams. Some of the survivors needed to be physically dragged away as they lay screaming and crying over their fallen loved ones and friends. Parents were torn from their lifeless children, and orphans whimpering in the darkness were wrenched away from the limp bodies of their mothers and fathers.

The dead lay where they had fallen now, their brains destroyed and their corpses entombed within the collapsing tunnel as the remainder of the evacuees limped on, nursing their broken limbs and rattled minds.

Stan was at the rear with Kyle. They were still having to step carefully, their shaking legs recovering slowly as their bodies pieced themselves back together. The effects of the explosion within such an enclosed space had debilitated almost everyone, but the two veteran soldiers were recovering faster than the others.

After what seemed like hours, they finally reached the far end and the steel hatchway. Kyle’s gun-group was there waiting for them as they kept the area secure. They helped the shaken survivors through the hatch, whispering words of encouragement, and attending to what wounds they could.

Stan and the veteran stepped through last, the passage behind them continuing to growl and groan as more of the supports collapsed in on themselves. There was no way that the infected could get through now, but they still had the sewer system and its inherent dangers to negotiate before they would taste clean air and feel any resemblance of safety again.

“You okay?” Stan asked when he saw that Kyle was having to manipulate his weapon with just one arm while he protected the other.

“Yeah, took a bit of shrapnel, but I’m okay,” he replied, handing over the machinegun to one of the militia who in turn handed him back his rifle. “What about you?”

“Not a scratch.”

“I told you we should’ve gone to Norway,” the veteran huffed as they left the collapsing tunnel behind them.

They made their way towards the front of the column and to where Tina and Paul were now positioned, resting for a few minutes before they continued with the evacuation through the warren of sewers and utter darkness.

“I’m starting to feel like I agree with you, mate,” Stan grunted.

19

“That’s it there,” Al whispered to Charlie who was crouching beside him. “To the right of the church; that’s the bus depot.”

He turned and looked up at the darkening sky. At ground level the shadows between the buildings were getting longer and harder to penetrate with the naked eye, but enough light was still coming through for them to see where they were going. The temperature was dropping sharply, and the wind chill penetrated through their clothing and bit into their bare flesh. Al shivered. It was going to be a cold night, and if they did not get away from the city and find somewhere to hole up, they would all suffer. He doubted that everyone amongst the survivors were strong enough to survive for long without food and shelter.

As planned, while Taff and Bull followed them through the sewers and then headed north, while Charlie and his group along with Al and Tommy, and two of the mechanics from the base, had crept their way south and into the city, headed for the bus depot. The outskirts had been quiet with only a few of the infected wandering through the streets. Their numbers were nothing like what they were closer to the town centre.

Behind them and waiting within the grounds of a partially destroyed leisure centre that had been gutted by fire was the rest of their group. Twenty militia soldiers lurked in the shadows, watching and waiting for the signal to move forward and act as a protective cordon around the depot while the mechanics got to work on the vehicles.

Charlie and Al waited, squatting in the rubble and leaning against the cold bricks of a burned out building, their breath misting in the cold air as they listened to the sounds of the dead just a few blocks away. They could hear the racket being created as the infected rampaged through the inner city, tearing buildings apart in their search for the living. It seemed that despite the time that had elapsed since Tommy and Al had escaped them they refused to give up the hunt, unable to reason that the men had long since slipped far beyond their reach. The ring of breaking glass, the grind of doors collapsing, and the rasping crump of blockages and barricades being forced open never ceased. The continuous uproar was joined by the incessant backing of the dead voices, their monotone hum filling the chilled air.

“Jesus,” Nobby whispered from behind. “It sounds like there’s a million of the bastards out there. They’re tearing the place apart.”

“Let them get on with it,” Charlie replied. “As long as they’re busy chasing shadows it should keep them off our backs for a bit.”

He turned and watched the rest of his group. The two mechanics were sitting close behind him, their bulging eyes watching every shadow in the surrounding area. Their heads swivelled constantly, as though they had become loose from the bones in their necks. Every movement and every sound, no matter how slight, sent ripples of terror shooting through their bodies.

“You two,” Charlie hissed at them and clicked his fingers lightly to grab their attention. “You up for this?”

They looked back at him, but said nothing. Their faces were pale and their bodies were shaking. Charlie knew that it was not from the cold alone. It had been years since either of them had set foot outside of the FOB, and the world had changed a lot since. There were many more of the monsters now and fewer survivors. The land was bleak and frightening, and the haunting sounds of the masses of infected only added to the terrifying atmosphere. 

“It’ll be okay. Just stay close and keep quiet. Once we get in there, we’ll cover your arses while you do your thing. Okay?”

They nodded in unison.

Charlie glanced down at their tool boxes. They were big, heavy, and cumbersome. He dreaded either of the mechanics losing their grip and dropping one of the bulky, steel containers. The noise created by the tools spilling out would be like the bells of a cathedral and enough to attract every corpse in the city to their location. He reached over and gripped one of the handles with his left hand. With his free hand he forcefully grabbed the mechanic’s arm and placed it on the box.

“Don’t worry about anything else other than this,” Charlie whispered, staring at them both intently. “We’ll do any fighting that needs to be done while you two keep a tight grip on the tools. You got that?”

Again they nodded.

He looked around them, checking the area before turning his attention back to the bus depot. They were forty metres away, but the ground between their position and the objective was wide open. They would be exposed to any prying eyes in the area as soon as they broke cover, but they had very little choice. The only alternative was to pass through the streets behind the terminal, travelling an unproven route while adding time and risk to their journey.

Charlie watched the building, looking for any signs of movement. There was only one of the dead that he could see in the depot enclosure. It was ambling around in the open area between the collapsed mesh fence and the main bay doors of the huge garages, dragging its feet as it stared down at the ground and unable to hear the din being created by the hordes that were crowding the city centre just a few streets away.

There were a number of coaches and buses outside of the building, but they were clearly too damaged and worn to be of any use to them. They were covered in green mould and weeds, every one of their windows smashed, and their tyres had rotted away many years ago. It was obvious that the engines would have long since seized up and become nothing more than useless clumps of rusted metal.

The large doors of the depot appeared to be sealed shut. It did not seem as though anyone had used the place to hide. There was no sign of barricades, boarded doors, or damage to the exterior. It was as if the place had simply been closed for business long ago and had been left forgotten ever since. Their only hope was that there were more vehicles inside that were sheltered from the elements and still salvageable.

Charlie sniffed at the air. He could easily deal with one reanimated corpse, but he knew that there could be many more of them prowling in the shadows of the rusting hulks or around the corners of the main building. It never took much noise or movement to attract hundreds of them into an area that had otherwise seemed devoid of anything other than rats and the corroded relics of human civilisation.

“Okay, mate. Prepare to move,” he whispered back to Nobby and then turned his attention to Al. “We’ll go forward and have a gander. The rest of you stay here, and we’ll give you a wave once it’s all clear.”

“No worries.”

Al crept back, passing on the message to the others and taking up his position beside the mechanics. It was his job to keep a close eye on them and prevent them from panicking should they run into any trouble. Once Charlie had confirmed that the depot was safe Al would lead them out, with the mechanics close on his heels and Tommy tucked in just behind them. The rest of Charlie’s team and the militia would provide flank and rear protection as they moved through the open ground. Once at the depot they would throw out a cordon and wait for the mechanics to identify whether or not there was anything that could be salvaged from within the bay doors.

Charlie stood up and crept towards the corner of the building. He peered out into the street to their left, checking that nothing had changed over the previous few minutes. It was still clear, but the noise from the dead grew suddenly louder without the wall of the building to buffer the cries and wails. With a nod the two men stepped out and into the open, moving slowly and methodically over the debris littered street.

Al watched them, his rifle and eyes scanning their surroundings and gliding over the numerous rusted vehicles that sat idle along their path. He was nervous and could feel the knots forming in his stomach. He had been apprehensive from the moment they started the move out from the base, but now was the moment of truth for them when they would find out whether or not their particular role in the evacuation was going to bear any fruit.

Tommy suddenly appeared beside him, waddling forward on his haunches and cradling his rifle across his chest. He came to a halt and let out a sigh.

“How’s it going?”

“Getting there.”

Tommy saw Charlie and Nobby inching their way across the street, moving very slowly and avoiding any sudden movements. Unlike Al, he had not spoken to Charlie or any of the others until just minutes before they launched into the retreat from the base. Since then they had been completely focussed upon their objectives, and Tommy had not yet taken the time to make any judgements on the new arrivals from his own, personal perspective.

“You trust these guys?” he suddenly asked. “I haven’t had much to do with them yet, but do you trust them?”

Al thought for a moment. He pictured the cold, unblinking eyes of Stan, the towering and menacing monolith named Bull, and the indifferent, seemingly reluctant manner of Kyle. They had travelled a long way, and despite the fact that Stan and his men wanted their help in return, they could easily have left the people inside the base to their fate. Instead they had taken a great risk, almost becoming trapped in the fortress themselves. On arrival, as the situation rapidly deteriorated, each of them had joined in with the defence of the FOB without hesitation, helping to shore up the gates and assisting with the evacuation.

Al nodded with assuredness.

“Yeah, I do. I would never say that I one hundred percent trust them, but they’ve proven to be a decent bunch up to now.”

“Shit, I never trusted anyone to that level even before all of this started. But if you trust them, then I will, too.”

“That Stan guy though,” Al shrugged, feeling a shiver running down from his neck and along his back. “He definitely knows what he’s doing, but I don’t think he’s human.”

“Yeah, I noticed that about him.”

“I’ve known him for years, and I feel the same way,” a voice from behind concurred.

Al and Tommy turned and saw Bryn, one of Charlie’s team members. He was smiling at them and nodding his complete agreement. The man had not said much since their arrival at the base, but during their move through the sewers Al had noticed that he walked with a severe limp. As it turned out, Bryn had a prosthetic leg. At first Al had assumed that it had been an amputation due to a bite, but when he probed further he learned that Bryn had been badly wounded in an IED-improvised explosive device-attack in Iraq, back in 2006.

Al turned to check on Charlie. He was almost to the collapsed fence that encompassed the depot and slowly approaching the lone figure that was still shuffling around in the open, dragging its feet through the puddles and swaying from side to side like a drunk.

“Yeah, Stan’s a strange one, but a good man all the same,” Bryn continued while keeping his eyes on his commander. “He knows what he’s doing, and there’s nothing he can’t do. If he says he’ll get your people to the coast, he’ll get them there. He’s the best and most professional soldier I’ve ever met, and although he looks like an uncaring, evil fucker, he’s as loyal as a dog and will fight to the death for his people. The funny thing is though, I think death is actually scared of the old bastard.”

“How long have you known him?” Al asked.

“Nobody
really
knows him.
We’ve
been with him for the past nine years
,
” he said with a nod and indicating towards Charlie. “Stan and his blokes saved our skins when we were overrun. Those two lunatics, Taff and Bull, have been with him from the very beginning, and before that they were part of his ‘spec-ops’ team for years, but they still don’t have a clue about who he really is. I’ve found that it’s best not to pry too much either. He doesn’t open up to anyone. He is what he is, and we accept him at face value because there seems to be very little else to him.”

Al nodded, contemplating what Bryn was telling him. If Taff and Bull, the men who had served alongside of him for years could not tell them anything, then he doubted that he would find out much for himself.

Bryn backed off a little, moving into a position from where he could see both Charlie to his front and the militia to his rear. Once the depot was cleared, he would lead them across and begin placing them into a cordon.

“Look, mate,” Al began, realising that he and Tommy were alone for the first time since they had begun the evacuation. “I’m really sorry about Lucy you know. She was a…”

“She’s dead, so don’t worry about it,” Tommy spat harshly as her face was suddenly thrust back into the forefront of his mind.

Up to that point, and even though his memories of her were still very recent, he had been able to prevent Lucy from overwhelming his every thought. He had thrown his mind and body into the task at hand, refusing to be overcome with grief and thoughts of the woman he loved. She was always there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, but he had the ability to switch off his emotions when the situation called for it. He needed to operate at his full capacity, but now Lucy was suddenly there again.

His statement made Al turn to look at him. He had never seen someone die from the infection so quickly, so he instantly understood what Tommy was not telling him.

“You mean…?”

Tommy looked back at him, their eyes locking for a moment as a thousand words went unspoken. Al knew exactly what Tommy had done. He would never have left it for anyone else to deal with. The fact that their relationship had never flourished into a romantic and physical one did not matter to Tommy. He loved her regardless, and he would have wanted to be the one who was there at her end.