Burden of Survival: Killing the Dead : Season Two (12 page)

We passed by a number of corpses sprawled in the mud and I mustered a grin for Gregg when he glanced back at me. He shook his head and rolled his eyes before pressing on past them. Gabby’s head moved from the dead to me and back again as her lips pursed in thought.

The route Pat took skirted the very edges of Hawkshead Though we had been there before, the sheer number of undead we’d seen walking the road that led there indicated to us that it would be less than safe.

One look through the trees to the village below revealed hundreds of bodies moving through the streets. Many of them spilled out onto the road that led to Coniston. Wherever they had come from, it was clear they would be a problem if not dealt with soon.

While we lived on an island, we still needed to be able to access the mainland for scavenging and to locate any survivors that could be invited to join our community. If we couldn’t do that then we’d soon run out of materials and supplies that we couldn’t do without. The island was a long way from being self-sufficient.

After skirting the village we travelled east through the hills. We encountered roving bands of the undead just twice and they were not great numbers of them so we dealt with them without problems. It was well past midday when we reached the hilltop that overlooked the village of Coniston.

The last time we’d been there, snow had covered the ground and our reception had been even colder than the weather. Though we’d traded with them, I still had the impression that they considered us outsiders and as such, not truly welcome.

“Fuck…” Gregg said, eloquent as always.

“Stay in the tree cover,” Gabby added.

Since I was at the back of the group, I inched forward to see what had so rattled my companions. It took only a moment to see why they were upset and a rising excitement filled me. Coniston had fallen to the undead.

A large barrier of dirt and stone had been raised in a great ring around the majority of the homes. Wooden stakes with sharpened points had been set into the sides of the barricade with barbed wire strung between. I recalled looking at it for the first time and thinking they had a chance. I was wrong.

By far the largest concentration of zombies were on the east side of the village where the road from Hawkshead lay. They had followed that road and spread out along the front of the earthworks when they couldn’t immediately get inside.

Hundreds lay dead, many on the stakes and earthen barrier but the majority trampled into the mud at the feet of their own kind. The villagers had fought well but not well enough. At several points, the undead had made it over the barrier through sheer weight of numbers and into the village itself.

The people of Coniston had been overwhelmed and their village was dead. My companions seemed to realise this too as their expressions were full of shock and dismay as they looked at the thousands of zombies that filled the streets and surrounding fields.

“We should go,” Gregg said quietly.

“What about survivors?” Gabby asked.

“Do you really think they are any?”

“They must have had plans in place for something like this. They wouldn’t have just cowered in their houses.”

Her voice was raised and Pat gave her a warning look which quietened her a little. I ignored her as best I could as I took in as much of the carnage as possible, savouring it. Something about it called to me and I had a moment’s wish that I’d been there to witness their end.

“If anyone survived this, we have no idea where they’ll be,” Gregg continued. He was the voice of reason and he glanced to me for support but I had no desire to become involved.

“The village had nearly four hundred people who had survived the first weeks,” Gabby said. “They can’t all have died.”

“Well, where the hell do you think we should look?” Gregg snapped. “We can’t exactly wander down and knock on bloody doors can we?”

I wondered if I should say something and stop the argument. On the one hand I had no real desire to find survivors. If we did, they’d need to come back with us and our resources were already stretched thin. On the other, Lily would want me to try.

“The mines,” I said and sighed as they all turned to me.

“What?” Gabby asked.

“The village sits at the mouth of a valley,” I said and pointed west to where the hills rose high above the village. “That valley contains the quarries and mines where the villages worked before all this happened.”

“You think they’ll be there?”

“When they saw all the undead gathering, if they had any sense they will have sent many of their more vulnerable people there,” I said. “The next question you need to ask yourself is whether we should find them or not.”

“Of course we should,” Gabby said.

Pat and Gregg exchanged looks that said they understood what I meant and could see the difficulties. I let out another sigh at her lack of understanding.

“However many survivors we find will need somewhere to go,” I said quietly. “Their homes are gone so we’ll need to take them to the island. We’ll have to take who knows how many people a dozen miles through zombie filled countryside and when we get them back to the island, we’ll have to use the limited supplies we have to feed them.”

She looked troubled as she realised what I was saying. It was all well and good wanting to save people but you had to be realistic. You couldn’t save everyone and if you tried, you could damn yourself.

“We can’t just leave them,” she said.

“Will the people back at the island thank you for bringing them when food runs out after a few days or weeks?” I asked. She was wavering so I had to give her a push to show that it wasn’t worth searching for survivors and then I could at least tell Lily I tried to help without lying.

“Think of who would be there anyway,” I said. “The old and very young. The vulnerable people who would be useless in defending their homes.”
As well as useless to us.

Something was wrong, her expression hardened and she took on a look of resolve. Gregg and Pat looked equally determined and I realised I’d said something wrong.
What happened?

“If we go round the north end of the village we’ll chance meeting less of the zombies,” Gregg said.

“More tree cover too,” Pat agreed.

“Stay quiet and we won’t be noticed,” Jenny added.
You too?

“It’s decided then,” Gabby said. “We go look for any survivors and take them home with us. We can sort the details of how to feed them later. They need us.”

Oh hell.

The worst part was that I couldn’t even ask anyone what I’d said to make them so determined. Not without letting them know that that hadn’t been my intention. I told myself that at least it would be a challenge and I might get to see someone die. It didn’t help.

With a final sigh, I followed my friends as they moved away through the birch trees. I drew my knife from its sheath and kept alert for any stray zombie. If we were seen by just one there was a good chance it would alert the others to our presence.

As much as I needed something to hold off that burning need, my death wasn’t quite what I intended and a thousand or more zombies were entirely too many to chance.

We made our way through the dense woods, grateful for the fresh growth that helped obscure our passage. Thirty minutes to the north-east to avoid crossing open fields and then we swung around towards the mouth of the valley.

One quick dash across twenty five feet of open ground and we were back under the trees and almost there. The only real problem we’d face would be the road that led into the valley. More than one zombie had seemed to be making their slow stumbling way along it.

The hills towered over us on either side. Covered with heather and sparse grass that swayed gently in the wind, we’d find no cover there. Our best option was to walk along the road where the only zombies that would see us would be on the road themselves.

Our last bit of cover was a grey stone bungalow that had been long since abandoned when the barrier was raised some distance from it. We moved briskly past it and tried to keep low as the road rose towards the valley.

I was acutely aware of how exposed we were and I was no doubt not the only one grateful for the generally poor vision of the zombies.

The wind had picked up earlier that morning and it reddened my cheeks and left my skin raw where my damp clothing rubbed at it. I regretted bringing up the possibility of survivors and just wanted to return to the island and the warmth of my blankets in the boat.

As the road turned from worn tarmac to mud, we encountered the undead. Their feet were sinking into the mud and each step was a struggle but they pressed on tirelessly. The squelching sound of their movements helped mask our approach as we avoided the worst of the mud and kept to the side of the track.

Eager to kill something, anything, I grabbed a zombie’s shoulder to steady it as my blade slammed down through its skull. In silence my friends joined me. Pat’s hammer split skulls heads with each swing while Gregg used his steel bar to club and impale the zombies.

Jenny struggled to keep her usual rage under control as she killed and Gabby hung back. She was no stranger to fighting the undead but had little stomach for it and unless absolutely necessary, she would let the rest of us do the killing.

In less than a minute the group was dead and sprawled across the muddy road, brain and congealed blood mixing with the mud and water. I felt nothing. No joy, no peace and not even a sense of accomplishment.

With a less than pleasant mood I followed my friends along the road. Another three zombies came in to view as the road wound around to the south and I let Pat and Gregg finish them off. Both of them looked at me in surprise but I ignored them and stuffed my hands into my pockets, away from my knife.

The road turned again as we moved from the hills up into the mountains. We left the road and followed a smaller one that led upwards. A sign positioned where the roads split indicated a hotel further along and it seemed like as good a place as any to find people.

For an hour we climbed. The landscape was muted greens and browns of grass and heather interspersed with black basalt rock. Even I could admit that view was impressive and we could see for a great distance if we looked back.

Below us the road meandered through the hills with side roads splitting off towards various old quarries and sites that hadn’t been worked in years. They were more tourist attraction than active workplaces, though since the apocalypse began they weren’t even that.

The undead were everywhere, growing in number as they walked along the roads. They seemed to prefer to take the easier route when given a choice and unless they had something to chase, they had little reason to climb the steep paths into the mountains.

It was midday when we came to the Coniston Coppermine’s hotel. A row of houses that were likely used by the mine workers back when it had been active. Grey stone walls and slate roofs made of local materials, several four wheeled drive vehicles sat out before the large building.

As we approached several men and women stepped out to greet us. I couldn’t help but notice the three shotguns pointed our way or the angry expressions.

“Who are you and what do you want?” called a bearded man in a thick parka.

“We’re from Belle Isle,” Gabby replied. “We came to check on you and found the village overrun.”

“No!” a woman cried as she collapsed to her knees.

Her companions rushed in to help her and the bearded man’s face had lost all colour. He needed a couple of attempts before his words finally came.

“You’d better come inside,” he said.

Chapter 16

Lily

I watched Michelle as she sipped at her water. She was pale and physically weak but she wasn’t a zombie. That alone was perhaps the only good thing that had happened since that first raft arrived.

“We’ll need to keep you here for tonight,” I said quietly and she nodded. She understood as well as any of us would. “The door will be locked but I’ll have someone close. Just knock if you need anything.”

“Aye, it’s fine,” she said. “I don’t think I could do much of anything right now anyway.”

“This is pretty amazing,” Becky said.

She was sitting at Gabby’s desk as she studied the injured woman. She tapped her fingers against the desks surface as she thought.

“Just think what this means,” she said. “Cass isn’t the only one. It could be more common than we thought.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well think about it. Most people died from the initial attacks and turned after death. Anyone who was bitten knew what would happen to them so many will have taken their own lives.”

“How many didn’t need to,” I mused as understanding came.

“Indeed,” Becky said as she clapped her hands in delight. “How many would have survived the bite given the chance? I wonder how many of us here are actually immune.”

“Well we can’t test that without being bitten,” I said.

“I’m sure the navy could come up with a way of testing us,” she said with a sly smile.

“Maybe,” I muttered.

“I wonder what will happen when Cass or Michelle eventually die.”

“What?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t mean now darling, I just mean what if you die of old age. You’re immune but does that mean the virus will still affect you when you’re dead?”

“Well don’t expect to find out anytime soon,” Michelle muttered.

“Of course,” she said as she waved her hand as though to wave away the suggestion.

“What’s going on out there?” Michelle asked to change the subject as Becky lapsed into quiet thought.

“Jim thinks he knows where the people who built the rafts are,” I said with a sigh. “Annalise insists that we go and attack them straight away even though it’s dark, raining and we have no idea how many of them there are.”

“She means well,” Michelle said.

“Maybe, but right now the last thing we can do is rush off half cocked.”

“You think more rafts will come tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, the day after… I don’t know.”

My hand covered my mouth as I yawned and the injured woman smiled at me.