The Left Series (Book 6): Left On An Island (14 page)

“Give me a fucking cigarette,” Smith boomed from behind me.

I turned my head and saw him emerging through the skylight. He clambered onto the roof and crouched beside me. The moans from the undead still inside the house drifted up through the broken window.

“I haven’t got any smokes with me,” I snapped, returning my gaze to the large house. “You know that.”

Smith rifled through one of the spear holders at my shoulder. “I put that rolling tobacco in this damn case.” He agitatedly bustled around inside the container. “A-ha, here we go.” He pulled out the matches and tobacco pouch and set about rolling a smoke, handing me the first completed one. I took it and stuck it in my mouth.

“What do you have eyes on?” Smith asked, striking a match.

I lit my smoke and was about to tell him about the big house in the distance but began a fit of hoarse coughing instead. I simply nodded at the building and hoped he understood.

“A big old stack, huh?” Smith mused, following my gesticulation.

I managed to compose myself and stifle the coughing for a moment. “There’s a high fence that runs all the way around the property.”

Smith nodded. “I see that.”

“You think there might be some guns or stuff we can use in there?” I asked.

Smith shrugged. “Possibly. It seems whoever lived there didn’t want nobody just rocking up and knocking on the door. It looks as though the previous occupants didn’t much like their neighbors or they didn’t want to be bugged by nobody.”

“You think it’s worth checking out?” I was curious. The house looked in a reasonable state seeing as it had probably been abandoned some time ago. Maybe the owners had fled to the castle and barricaded themselves inside the fortress when the undead took over. Perhaps they’d left some of their firearms behind.

Smith nodded and flicked his cigarette butt over the side of the wall. I did the same. The dry tobacco burned extremely quickly and was rough as hell on the back of my throat.

“We do have one problem,” Smith said.

“What’s that?” I asked, feeling tired of every small thing being confronted by problems.

“We’re on a roof and we’re surrounded by fucking zombies.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Smith took out one of the spare spears from the pack on my back and reloaded the empty gun.

“We’re running low on ammo,” he muttered.

I carefully stood up, trying to get a better view of the grounds surrounding the small house. Unfortunately, Smith was right. Masses of undead jostled and staggered around the backyard, the side garden and the front of the property. They didn’t notice me on the roof but were all attempting to bustle their way inside. I returned to my sitting position with a sinking feeling in my gut.

“What’s the plan?”

Smith turned his head toward the castle in the distance and squinted at the rising sun.

“Well, sooner or later, probably sooner, that whack job with a sniper rifle is going to spot us on this rooftop and start taking pot shots at us. With all the fuss those undead motherfuckers are making, whoever is up there is going to come over to this side of the castle wall and take a look at what’s going on down here.”

I sighed. “Ah, great, so we’re either going to get shot right here or eaten to death if we drop down off the roof?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“How did they know we were in this damn house?” I seethed. “I’m sure they didn’t see us when we sneaked in around back.”

Smith shrugged. “I don’t know, kid. Maybe they just sensed us. We probably give off a different vibe to people who’ve been here awhile. Those crawlers might have kept crawling and followed our tracks. We both know they all follow each other if they think one of them has a sniff of a live one.”

“Smith, they’re dead. They aren’t supposed to have any senses or be capable of sniffing out humans like dogs do.”

“Sorry, Wilde Man,” Smith said, shrugging again. “I don’t have all the answers you want. It’d take a better man than me to say what those zombies or whatever you want to call them are capable of.”

I felt exasperated. There had to be some way we could get off the damn roof. I glanced around our near surroundings. The house next to the one we sat on top of was around thirty feet away. Too far to jump across.

I scoured the neighbor’s backyard. Maybe we could find a way to get beyond the adjoining wall between the two properties.

A risky and probably stupid plan began to take shape in my mind. I had no intention of getting shot off the roof by some crazed sniper. He could shove his high velocity rifle up his ass as far as I was concerned. The situation had gone on too long and I intended to put an end to our isolation.

I rose up again, just enough to peek into the neighboring side garden. I saw two zombies stumbling around the area; both looked as though they were trying to find a way out beyond the side gate, rattling it and moaning intensely.

“Smith, how high would you say this house is?” I asked.

“I don’t know, fifteen, twenty feet maybe.”

“What was your original plan when you said we’d go out through the skylight?”

“I figured we could get up here and jump down at the front and then high tail it out of here.”

“How long would you say that ladder is?”

Smith shrugged and looked back through the broken skylight. “Around ten feet, I guess.”

“Okay, let’s pull it right out here on the roof,” I said enthusiastically, while rising up from my sitting position.

“What the hell you got in mind, kid?” Smith grunted, still squinting at the sun.

I grabbed hold of the top ladder rung and began to haul it upwards and towards me so the whole frame slid out from the skylight, jutting upwards at a forty-five angle.

“Just sit there, why don’t you?” I snapped.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Smith groaned, pushing himself up.

We maneuvered the ladder from the hole in the roof and slid it across the domed top towards the neighboring side garden.

“There’s no way that’s going to reach the ground over that wall,” Smith groaned, pointing downward at the narrow space below. “Those damn zombies will be on us in a flash.”

“Not if we lean the ladder between the top of the wall and the side of the house,” I said. “We can climb down, hop into the neighbor’s garden, pop the two stiffs in there and let ourselves out the gate.” I cleared my throat, the plan was running wild in my imagination and Smith listened with an expression of morbid fascination. “Then we move our asses fast across the street and get over to that big house in the distance, scale the fence and we’re safe for a while.”

Smith threw his hands in the air and kind of laughed in a wheeze. “What the hell, kid? The plan is so stupid it might just work. And besides, I ‘aint got nothing else. We’ll run with your idea. What the heck, let’s go get ourselves killed. I ‘aint got nothing better to do today.”

“All right then,” I said, with a slight smile.

We carefully shimmied down the curving roof, leaning backwards against the drop with the ladder held between us. Smith and I silently maneuvered the ladder so it was wedged between the sloping side of the domed house at one edge, while the other end rested on top of the vertical wall dividing the two properties. If we got it right, we could clamber across the ladder horizontally at a height of around eight feet from the ground. It wasn’t perfect and we were going to have to be quick crossing over the space but it seemed to be the only conceivable way out of our situation.

I tested the ladder’s stability by pressing the rungs up and down. We crouched at the edge of the sloping roof, another step forward and we’d topple over the edge. A few undead roamed around near the side wall below us but they seemed more intent on staggering to the backyard and getting inside via the French doors at the rear. I took a glance back over my shoulder and could still see the castle’s ramparts and the top of the towers but we were almost hidden from any sniper’s view. I turned my attention back to the job in hand.  

“Okay, you want me to go first?” I whispered.

Smith kind of wobbled his head. “Whatever, it’s your show, kid.”

I adjusted the two spear packs on my back so they were directly in line with my spine. The last thing I needed was for them to sag over the ladder’s sides and weigh me down.

I positioned myself at the edge of the ladder with my hands on the side rails and my knees on the first few rungs. My mouth was dry and I took a couple of deep breaths.

It was then all the consequences of failure to cross the ladder hit me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Come on, man, just get over there,” Smith growled, as I hesitated on the ladder’s edge.

I bit into my lower lip then gritted my teeth. I looked down to the paved area below. The fall wouldn’t have inflicted any serious bodily damage but I’d be trapped between two packs of marauding undead if I toppled from the ladder. I had to go for it.

I moved quickly forward, coordinating my arms and legs so I shuffled my knees across the rungs while keeping a firm grip on the side rails. The wooden frame clunked up and down slightly but held in place. I heard a few interested grunts and growls to my left but didn’t look to see if I’d been spotted, keeping my focus on the looming side wall.

I reached the end of the ladder, which protruded over the wall into the neighbor’s side garden by a few inches. I stopped moving when I reached the top of the wall. The two zombies, both females with wild, matted hair and wide eyes had noticed me and turned away from the side gate in the neighbor’s yard. Their cataract stares were fixated on me and let out guttural growls like rabid dogs.

I was aware of movement to my left and took a quick look. A few undead who had been trying to jostle their way inside the house now turned their attention in my direction. More would certainly follow behind them. I knew I couldn’t hang around on the ladder or the top of the wall any longer.

I hopped down from the wall into the side yard and immediately backed away from the approaching shuffling corpses, moving from the side of the house to the backyard. Keeping my gaze on the two zombies closing in on me, I swung the spear sacks around to my sides and began rummaging at the flap on the top to try and retrieve a spear for a little self defense. Smith would be following me across the ladder and into the yard at any second.

I made the fatal mistake of not looking behind me as I shuffled backwards away from the two females from hell. My heel clipped the edge of a raised patio slab and I stumbled, my ass hit the ground and I sprawled backwards across the smooth warm surface.

“Shit,” I spat. My right arm was tangled within the spear bag strap.

I writhed on my back on the patio slabs, trying to get to my feet and pull a spear out from the sack, while attempting to free up my snagged arm. To add to my troubles, another zombie who I hadn’t noticed lumbered across the patio towards me. The ghoul approached from the rear of the property and was presumably either lurking around the back doors or had been inside the house. The third looming zombie was a man with long, wispy dark hair at the sides and completely bald on top. He wore a torn silky red bathrobe with a pair of blue swim shorts underneath. I figured silky robes must have been the local fashion around the place. His decaying face was covered in crusty dried blood, as though he’d been feasting on flesh a long while ago. The robe was flapping open and I saw the remains of rotting internal organs oozing from a huge gash in his gut. The tear in the center of the man’s stomach was surrounded by deep gouges that looked like they’d been inflicted by a combination of teeth and finger nails.

I shook my right arm free and rattled through the bag, pulling out one of the spears. The male zombie reached out his hands for me and I noticed several jewel encrusted rings still on his fingers, although they were partially covered in grime and dried blood. I ass shuffled backwards to the rear of the patio, giving myself a couple of seconds respite. Where the hell was Smith?

I hauled myself to my feet but the spear bags rolled to one side as I stood and caused my weight to shift to the left. I stumbled into a blackened, outdoor cooking grill and it clattered over onto the patio slabs. The male zombie roared as though he was pissed off I’d knocked over his grill. He stumbled closer and I backed up until I felt the outer boundary wall pressing against my shoulder blades.

I let the spare spear bags fall from my shoulders and they clattered to the ground. While wrapped around me, the bags were too cumbersome to fight off the latest undead onslaught.