When There's No More room In Hell: A Zombie Novel (37 page)

Everyone began to dismount from their vehicles. No one had advised that they take a closer look, but the spectacle was too overpowering and Marcus and his men couldn't help but be
horrified by what they saw. It was almost hypnotic.

“There must be thousands of them
, Marcus,” Ian said as he noticed his friend standing at his side, staring up at the figures stuck to the long posts above them, gawking from one body to the next.

The body directly above them looked down
, twisting and straining against the post, grasping at the air that separated it from the living human flesh below. It grunted and wailed continuously, causing the other bodies close by to join in the tortured chorus of the dead. Soon, the entire field on either side of the road was a deafening mantra of wailing voices, all reacting to the sounds of the other moans close by to them.

Marcus
didn't reply to Ian, he couldn’t, he just nodded and continued nodding for sometime without realising it. Some of the bodies had placards attached to them, written in Serbian and unintelligible to anyone in the team, but from what they could guess, the placards probably read supposed crimes that had resulted in the cruel and final punishment.

Without a doubt
some, if not most, had been alive before they were put into the field as part of a gruesome display of man’s inhumanity to man. Marcus suspected that many would have survived for a lengthy period of time, particularly the ones who had been crucified, before they succumbed and died before reanimating.

He looked up at the nearest body. He couldn't tell if it had been male or female. Its s
kin was black, with large fluid-filled blisters all over it from baking in the hot sun. Its ribcage was ripped open, a cavern where its innards had once been and its dull white bone tips poking through the rotted flesh. The skin of its face was stretched tight over the skull, and the eyes were all but gone, but it knew they were there as it snarled and moaned at the men below, flailing its arms in an attempt to reach them.

Some of the bodies were little more than torsos, nailed to the poles or stakes that had been driven
into them from the rectum and up through the neck. Some bodies were completely decomposed with nothing left except for bones, held together with dried out sinews. In some places, just heads on pikes were visible, the jaws still flexing but making no sound from the lack of vocal cords.

Flocks of b
irds and insects swooped and dived continually above the spectacle, as they spotted another particularly tasty morsel on one of the dead. The smell was overpowering. There was very little breeze and the stench of the thousands of rotting and putrefying bodies lingered in the air like a thick haze, permeating into everything.

They were mesmerised by the sight, and didn't hear the approaching vehicles. In their shock at what they saw, they made the mistake of l
eaving their weapons in the SUVs, leaving just side arms at their immediate disposal.

Four trucks emerged from the tree line and headed toward them.

Stu was the first to react. “Stand to,” he screamed, snapping the attention of the rest of the men back to reality. They all spun and saw the trucks and turned to run for their vehicles.

Before they could move, a stream of tracer rounds zipped in front of them, cracking loudly as they split the air and creating a demarcation line that told Marcus and his men not to move any further. They all stopped in their tracks and glanced nervously to each other. Whoever it was that was approachi
ng them, they had them zeroed and any attempt to move, they would be cut down before they could take more than two steps.

The trucks pulled up in a screech of brakes and men began spilling out from the back of them, shouting commands and orders to one another and gesturing with their rifles. They were dressed in mixed uniform
s of different nationalities, including civilian clothing. Nearly all of them wore a bandanna of some sort. Not a good sign as far as Marcus was concerned. Nearly everything he had seen or read of atrocities in the Balkans had been committed by men wearing bandannas. It was a rebel thing.

A
man, who appeared to be their commander, approached and began shoving people in different directions and shouting. They began to climb in and out of the vehicles as their new prisoners stood and watched, helpless to do anything. Their weapons were removed from their belts and collected in a pile in front of the rebel commander. He picked up Marcus’ pistol and hefted it in his hand, then looked approvingly at Marcus with a smile.

“Thank you,” h
e said.

Two men appeared
from the SUV, Zaid between them as they helped him from the vehicle. The rebel commander approached them and ripped the dressing away from the injured man’s neck, causing Zaid to wince with pain. The rebel commander studied the wound for a short moment then nodded. He stepped back and without a moment’s hesitation, he raised the pistol and fired a shot into Zaid’s face. His head snapped back, then forward as he fell to his knees and onto his face, causing a cloud of dust to rise around him as he landed.

Hussein and
Ahmed stared and watched in silence, then lowered their heads in silent prayer for their friend.

The commander shouted a few words and then Marcus and the rest were
blindfolded and bundled into the back of the trucks and driven away.

It was the unknown that they feared. They had been caught off
-guard and now lay at the mercy of their captors without any control over their own fate. Marcus felt scared, but more than that, he was angry, angry with himself.

26

Jennifer paced the lobby, wringing her hands together as she nervously and continually looked to the main door, waiting for Steve to return from the perimeter checks.

She heard the sound of voices as
the door opened and Steve stepped inside, speaking loudly with Gary.

“We can’t just leave them there. We need to do
something about them,” he was saying over his shoulder to his friend as they entered.

“
I agree, Steve,” Gary replied, “but what do you reckon we should do?”

Steve stopped and turned. He hunched his shoulders and
cocked his head. “Well, I was thinking we should...” he was interrupted by Jennifer’s anxious voice.

“Steve, have you heard anything?”

He turned at the sound of her voice. “Sorry, Jen, I've no news for you.” He looked at her apologetically.

She looked down, her eyes
blurry from the tears and her voice croaky with emotion. “It’s been two days, Steve.” She continued to look at the floor as she spoke. “I know it’s not always possible to get in touch every night, but it’s never been this long, never longer than a day.”

Gary tapped him on the shoulder and said in a low voice, “I’ll crack on
, Steve, and leave you to it. We can discuss things later.” He nodded to Jennifer, acknowledging her need to speak to Steve more urgently than he did.

“Okay
, Gary, I’ll catch you in a bit then,” Steve said glancing back at him.

Steve
turned back to Jennifer and placed his hands on both her shoulders and stooped his head so that they had eye contact. “Jen, listen, I'm sure he's okay. It’s probably just the area where they are, or they're having radio trouble or something. You know Marcus, he gets into all sorts of scrapes, but he always comes out on top, and I'm sure that he will be in touch soon. You'll do yourself and the kids no good worrying about it.”

She sniffed back the tears and wiped her eyes as she looked up. She breathed deeply to compose herself and even managed a faint smile as s
he nodded in agreement with him. “Yeah, you're right. I just need to stop flapping.”

Steve nodded.
“As soon as I hear anything, you'll be the first to know, Jen. Jake is virtually living in the radio room, keeping a round the clock radio watch. If any transmissions come across, he will let us know. Now, go and get some sleep. You look wiped out, Jen. The kids are out with Sophie and Helen, seeing to the animals, so enjoy the peace before they all come back pretending to be lions and monkeys.”

A
hoarse and nervous laugh escaped Jennifer’s throat and she turned and walked away toward the stairs. She stopped with her foot on the first step and turned to Steve, who stood watching her. She smiled.

“Even if I'm asleep
, Steve, if he gets in touch, wake me.”

“Will do
, Jen,” he replied and watched as she turned and climbed the stairs.

Steve was worried too, but he had kept his inner concern from Jennifer.
Increasingly over the weeks, he had become more of a leader for the group, and he saw it as his duty to hold his composure. The way he looked at it, if he were to lose his head, then how could any of the others rely on him, or keep theirs?

He
rushed to Jake’s room and threw his head around the doorway. “Anything?” he asked hopefully.

Jake looked up from the laptop he
was working on and removed the earphones. With a regretful look in his eyes, he gave a solemn shake of the head. “Sorry, Steve, nothing.”

Steve slouched and rested his head against the door frame as
he sighed. “Let me know though, Jake, will you?”

“Of course
, Steve.”

Later that night, a meeting was held. At the far end
of the lobby, a group including Steve, Gary and Lee sat talking quietly. They discussed the food and fuel situation, as well as that of their other provisions.  After being given the rough estimates of their supplies, Steve was satisfied with the conclusion. They had enough food, water, and fuel to last for a while yet, and it wasn't a pressing matter at that moment.

Also, the animals and their current cond
ition were brought up by Sophie. “Most of the animals seem fine, the monkeys and the primates seem a little more lively than usual, but it’s the lions and the tigers I'm concerned about.”

“What do you mean, what's up with them?” Gary asked.

“They're agitated,” Sophie replied, “constantly roaring and pacing the fence, and fighting amongst each other. Some of the kids were even scared by it earlier when we did the rounds.”

Gary nodded, as though he had expect
ed this and had an answer ready. “Ah, it'll be the dead. They can smell the rotting bodies. Don't forget, cats have a very strong sense of smell, just like dogs. The scent of the decaying bodies all around will be driving the lions and tigers nuts. Especially with the lot at the gate so close.”

As
he made his last statement, he switched his eyes across to Steve.

Steve
took that as his cue and moved on to the problem that he and Gary had spoken about earlier in the day as they conducted their security checks.

“The infected at the gate,” Steve inhaled
as he looked about the group, “what do we do about them?” He paused and no one spoke. They just watched him blankly, assuming the question to be rhetorical.

He continued, “Okay well, we can’t just leave them there to rot and w
ander about for a number of reasons. Firstly, they're a health hazard. The weather is getting hotter and animals are feeding off them, as well as the insects and then they're flying around here. I'm not clued up on the whole health stuff, but I'm sure that having a bunch of dead people on your doorstep isn’t wise.” He nodded across to Gary. “We were down there this morning, and we could smell them from hundreds of yards away, before we could even see the gate.

“Secondly, they're making too much noise and movement. The way I see it, the longer they're down there,
the higher the chance that other infected will be attracted to the area. The sound of their moaning and rattling of the gate carries well beyond the junction at the top, bearing in mind that there's no other noise to drown it out.

“
On top of that, they're constantly moving about. I'm not sure how good their vision really is, but it seems to be good enough to distinguish the living from the dead, so I'm sure that with fifty to a hundred of them bouncing about at the gate, any that stumble close enough to the barrier at the top of the road will see them as well as hear them.”

Helen sat forward.
“Yeah, but I thought the trees and their branches would block the view?”

Gary spoke, “Not completely. Remember, it was only suppose
d to obscure their view, not block it completely. With the wind blowing the branches out of the way, or even the infected hearing the commotion, they can always see past the barrier if they try. The way we see it though, if there's no noise or movement on the other side, then they'll not investigate.”

“Will the barrier not hold them back?” Claire asked. She sat by Jennifer
. The two of them had become close over the weeks, helping each other as they struggled through the loss of Roy, and the possibility of Marcus not returning.

“Again,” Gary answered as he took a sip from a glass
of whiskey, “it’s not strong enough to stop them from getting in if they want to. And, there's the gap.”

Everyone in the group looked up
at Gary. “The gap, we didn't leave a gap, did we?” Helen asked.

Gary
nodded as he swilled his drink. “Yeah, we did, between the base of the trees that we felled and the wall. It’s only about a metre wide on the grass verge, but that's big enough for them to get through. If there's nothing attracting their attention though, then they won’t notice the gap, or have reason to wander through it. We can handle the odd stray now and then.”

Carl nodded
. “Yeah, there's always gonna be the odd one that turns up. But we can handle that.”

“So, how do we deal with the unhealthy noisy gaggle at the gate then?” Helen asked.

Steve glanced at Gary then, answered, “We burn `em.”

A murmur sounded from the group as some people hummed in agreement and others gasped at the though
t.

Karen was the first to speak.
“Can we do that, I mean, just set fire to a load of people?” She looked to her husband for his stance on the matter.

G
ary returned a shrug.

“We've killed them before, what's
wrong with killing them again? The only difference is the method,” Steve said to the group as a whole.

“Yes,” Karen replied, a
look of disgust on her face, “but isn’t that a bit inhumane, setting fire to them?”

Gary leaned forward, rolling his glass betwee
n his hands as he spoke. “Karen, there's no other way to deal with them. We can’t risk trying to kill them individually. There's too many. We need a way of dealing with them en masse and from a safe distance with no risk to ourselves. Steve and I discussed it earlier, and fire is the only option we came up with.”

Steve back
ed him up with his own argument. “Gary is right, Karen. Besides, from what I've seen, they don’t seem to feel pain like we do.”

“Yes, but it still seems a little barbaric and extreme to me. They're still human.”

Steve shook his head. “They ceased to be human the moment they died, Karen. What they are now is some new and unholy creature. I only see them as dangerous rotting lumps of meat.”

“Yeah, that walk about,” Lee said from his left. He was staring straight ahead at the table, a dreamy look on his face as he spoke.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, that too.”

“And attack you
.”

Steve hummed his agreement.

“And eat you.”

“And that,” Steve concurred again.

“And turn you into them.”

Steve turned and looked to his friend, “Yeah
, Lee, we get the point.”

“And they stink
.”

Steve nodded, trying to move on.

Lee was still staring at the table top as he spoke, “And they moan,”

“For fuck sake
, Lee,” Steve slapped the table with his palm and rolled his eyes, “we get the picture.”

It was agreed, contrary to
Karen’s disdain, that the infected in the area of the gate would be burned. They knew that there was a chance of the smoke and flames attracting the attention of more infected from the area, but they agreed that it would be a case of dealing with them individually as they came in.

Steve and Lee coll
ected the fuel and poured it into plastic bottles that could be squeezed, affording them range so that they could spray the infected from the wall without being too close. They made a bunch of Molotov cocktails from glass bottles that were intended to be thrown to the rear of the group, ensuring that the fire spread throughout the swarm at the gate and not just the ones at the front.

Later, from the house, everyone watc
hed in the direction of the park entrance as they saw the thick black plumes of smoke rise into the sky. Soon, the acrid smell of burning flesh twitched at their noses, forcing them back inside and away from the horrible stench. Some were physically sick and people walked around the house for the afternoon, holding scented tissues to their mouths and noses. Others made a point of getting out of the house for a while and joining in with the animal checks with Sophie and the children.

The next day, a party was
handpicked to go to the gate again with shovels and digging tools, to remove the burnt and charred corpses that littered the area. Only those of a strong constitution were asked to volunteer and they made their way there, led by Steve.

“Do we have face masks and gloves and stuff?” Carl asked
. “Not that I'm squeamish or anything, I just don’t like the idea of breathing in that shit.”

“Yeah,” Sophie answered
. “I've already thought of that. I've got us aprons and boots too.”

Steve hadn't thought of that and he smiled at Soph
ie, grateful for her forethought. “What about disinfectants and stuff, do we have any of that too?”

Sophie
turned on him. “You serious? Of course we do. This is a frigging zoo, Steve. You ever smelled lion piss when they're in heat?”

They moved off
to the gate and stepped out, careful where they placed their feet among the blackened and vile smelling remains mangled and mixed into the ground. Charred black skeletons were everywhere, surrounded by a thick, fly-infested, putrid soup.

Steve remembered setting fire to the crowd with Lee.
The infected had sizzled as the fire had taken hold. Their skin and muscle tissue bubbling and dripping away from their bones, their eyes had popped from the heat. Many had swelled up as their already gas-filled stomachs had distended further as their innards had boiled inside them, eventually bursting and spilling their stomach-churning, fetid contents onto the ground as the fire continued to consume them.