Scavengers: July (4 page)

“Did you go back to the ship? Aberdeen is overrun by them as far as I know.” said James, and took a peek into the great hall, with its massive two sided staircase. Furniture was scattered around and moldy. He hardly swallowed when he noticed another decaying corpse on the floor.

“Oh yea, they ‘ad a massive outbreak. We went straight to London,” Ira explained, getting inside and looking around the place. From his grimace, James could read that he too noticed the unpleasant aroma in the air. James immediately detected mold and watery stains on some of the old family portraits hanging in the hall. It was painful to see. Although the windows were now covered by ivy, even in the dim light, they could see that the elegant, white stairs and decorative statues of cherubs and shepherds had become slightly greenish.

James walked up to the portrait of his father slowly, as if in a dream and moved the tips of his fingers along the frame of the painting. “London was so chaotic back then, wasn’t it?” he asked in a quiet voice, not paying much attention to anything but the portrait.

“It was,” Ira breathed, shaking his head and taking out a large dagger. “But they managed to keep the dead out. You weren’t recruited to build the walls, no?” he asked with a skeptical look in his eyes.

James turned to him, holding the ice pick quite nonchalantly. “Oh but I was. Two weeks I worked there! They needed all the hands they could get. Do you ever wonder how could they be dead? Living corpses? That maybe it’s a disease that can be cured?” He walked over to the next portrait. His mother, who died at the tender age of 20 giving birth to him.

“This professor at the university, whatever he’s called, he says if it walks with no heart, it is dead,” said Ira, putting a hand into his pocket and looking around. “And the walls were not built in two weeks,” he commented after a pause, “Was in service for over a year.”

“Yes,” James said, with hesitation, “but there were many other pressing matters that needed my attention.” He gave Ira a short glance and started walking up the stairs. They were made out of strong marble, so there was no fear of rot as there could be with a wooden staircase.

“I’m sure,” the other man answered, following him calmly. It seemed that there were some holes in the roof, because the floor on top of the stairs was slowly disintegrating and there were yellowish spots on the ceiling.

“Did you go back to the army after building the walls?” James asked, starting to walk a bit faster down the corridor on the first floor. They talked about the blueprints of the house many times, so they both knew that James’ office was on the next level. “We’re in luck. It looks as though this place is deserted.” He smiled at Ira.

The other man nodded to him pleasantly. “Nah, why would I do that? I’m no great patriot,” he confessed.

“Maybe for the pay. But I suppose for a man like you, these kinds of jobs are lots more lucrative.” James walked down another big hall, trying not to look down on the floor, at some of the bones scattered around. “We will be done in no time!” he said with optimism, but the moment he had finished his sentence he screamed in horror. James was only inches away from an old, decaying zombie, which lurched for him from the floor and grabbed him by the ankle. The disgusting creature had no legs and was crawling along the carpet. “Fuck! You fucking fuck!” screamed James in panic and started striking at the zombie’s head with the ice pick. It breathed in agony and then went still, covered in its dark blood, which also stained James’ clothes and hand. The whole fight didn’t last five seconds.

“Good,” he heard from behind, where Ira was standing, “but be quiet. There might be more of them.” he said, as if what happened a second ago was no big deal. He helped James to straighten up. “Just don't break your skin with it now.”

James was still breathing heavily and kept looking back at the corpse, as if he was expecting to see it move again. “Yes... It’s good I had gloves on,” he whimpered.

“Was that your first?” Ira asked, starting to climb to the second floor.

James nodded slowly, walking right behind him. “I sort of never had the chance...”

“You’ll get used to it,” the other man said, patting his arm in an appreciative manner, but then furrowed his eyebrows with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Something wrong?” asked James, looking behind his shoulder nervously. Then he heard it himself: there were noises coming from the other corridor.

“Come up!” Ira whispered, speeding up the staircase. Growling and slow, shuffling sounds encircled James whose senses lit up instantly. The only place he had seen zombies since he left the countryside was at the London Zoo.

Ira didn’t have to warn him twice. James shot up the stairs, actually passing him, with the ice pick in one hand and a gun in the other. To his horror, there were more zombies coming at him upstairs. One, that was particularly close, suddenly fell to the carpeted floor with a bolt in his forehead.

“Go, go, go!” shouted Ira running after his companion. James was in front of him and headed for his office, but there were even more undead on this floor. And they all stormed at the men with agitation.

James started shooting at them, desperately trying to hit the heads. Unfortunately, in the state he was in, that was no easy task and he ended up barging into his office with a scream of terror as one of the zombies grabbed him by the arm. It hauled him brutally back into the corridor and into its rotting, surprisingly strong arms. James’ heart hammered wildly in his chest, making him lightheaded. Reflexively, he tried to hit the zombie’s head with a panicked gasp. The smell of rotting flesh was making him nauseous, but all he could think of was the teeth, that he practically felt on his bare skin already. Seeing another monster coming at them, he desperately opened the jacket, hurriedly taking it off, leaving it behind in the undead’s clutches. He slipped out, almost leaping back towards the office but one look down the corridor assured him that this was not the end. Or rather, this could well be the end.

Once he had this last thought, there was a crackling sound from behind James and it struck him: there were two entrances to this room. His mind chaotically analyzed his situation: he had lost the ice pick in the corridor and there was no ammunition in the pistol! He could hear the noise of a fight from the corridor, but as he saw grayish hands reaching from behind the hidden door to the office situated by his desk, he knew he had to forget Ira and act. There was a large armchair blocking the second door, which could buy him some time, but the zombie, or zombies that tried to use this passage, managed to shove it inch by inch with powerful pressure to the door. James ran through the room and pushed the armchair forward, trying to block the entrance. Panic gripped at his insides as he saw one of the creatures entering the study through the main door. Did this mean Ira didn't make it?!

The zombies behind the hidden door were surprisingly strong and suddenly, James felt the wooden panel being lifted. Before he could push it back down, the door fell on him, knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. James screamed bloody murder, as he felt the zombies climbing on top of him. They trapped him under the wooden door growling like mad. The only thing James could now think about was how easily the beasts could get at him from the side.

He heard his companion’s voice from the other part of the room, but the danger he was in overshadowed everything, alarming all his senses. The weight of the creatures was almost too much to bear, but the extreme situation bestowed him with almost inhuman strength. Despite that, he could hardly move and the sound of dirty claws scratching the surface that now pushed at his face was absolutely horrifying. Was that it? Would he die here?

His body went rigid as a rotting hand appeared in the space between the floor and the wooden door, but behind it, James saw a pair of chunky boots moving in their direction. He could only imagine what happened, but the weight on top of him lessened a bit with the creatures presumably shifting their attention to a less obscured prey. There was a loud thud and the creature trying to claw its way under the door fell onto the floor with a huge hole in the head, dead eyes fixed on James. The man had a sinking feeling in his gut as he recognized the butler who always brought him his morning tea. By this time he was on the verge of tears.

He pushed the door off himself, and looked up at Ira with freight. Suddenly he saw movement behind him. “There’s one more!” he shrieked, pointing behind the massive oak desk. Ira blinked, and in an instant, a disgusting, large undead launched itself at him, forcing the man onto the desk. Its half rotten face gaping, dripping saliva on Ira’s leather jacket. Screaming in fear, he opened his eyes and grabbed the monster’s throat, saving himself from its bite in the last moment. James was frozen in place, watching with horror as the monster climbed on top of the large man so forcefully, the desk tipped slightly unloading a clutter of drawers. Some of his possessions fell to the ground in a loud crash. The hired treasure hunter sensed his chance and brutally jabbed the zombie in the eye socket with a loud scream. The creature breathed quietly before falling on top of him and finally slipping to the floor.

James heard Ira mumble something as he climbed down from the desk on its other side. “Are they all gone?” asked the aristocrat quietly, as yet not having the strength to get up from the floor. Ira did not answer, visibly contemplating something he saw beneath his feet. Finally, he bent down and returned holding a piece of paper in his hand. His dark eyes focused on it with stunned interest.

James sat on the floor, in shock, slowly realizing what it was that had fallen out of the drawers. A deep shame crept over him as Ira turned the page in his direction with a slight pout. At this particular moment, he regretted coming here to retrieve the drawings, but it was stronger than him. It’d been a deep urge of dissatisfaction, as if something was missing from his life without those images. He felt a blush crawl onto his face slowly. His embarrassment strengthened when Ira did not even say a word, just looking in his direction with a blank expression. What could he possibly think of him right now?

“I...,” James bit his lip, “I have no idea where that came from...” he said, though he knew it sounded incredibly false. He was too dumbstruck to think of anything else. How could he explain those explicit pictures?! And that looking at them, made him feel hot and ready even now. What was still more humiliating, Ira simply put the drawing on his desk, shooting him a knowing look.

“It’s none of my business,” he stated, even though his eyes darted lower, avoiding meeting James’ gaze.

James however, didn’t feel like he had any dignity to save. If he had come so far and reached his office, he would not leave without the pages. He couldn't take all of them unfortunately, so quickly and quite desperately, he rummaged through them, to pick his favorites. Oh how he missed being able to look at the hot, steamy, immoral things those men were doing with each other. In an imaginary world of erotic fantasy, it was all possible. Maybe it couldn't be something he would 'do', but at least he could look. That wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“That worth a lot to you?” he heard from above. Ira’s boots were just a few inches away from him, covered in dirt and zombie blood. The man seemed strangely calm about this. The money he was promised must have lessened his discomfort. When James managed to look up, the treasure hunter was preparing his pipe.

“It’s for this particular research I do...” muttered James, trying to make up a story about this whole thing, as fast as possible. Though he did consider paying Ira a little more, to avoid potential blackmailing. And the man in front of him was so intimidating in a way: with his confident stance and the way he could go about killing so many undead.

“Well, I imagine it must be very tedious?” said Ira, with a trace of humor in his tone.

“Y... yes,” James stuttered a bit, feeling the mockery in his voice, but going forward with his obvious, big, fat lie. It was strange how little it bothered him how much Ira saw, now that he knew anyway. “A man needs a lot of good morality in him, to deal with this kind of obscenity.”

Ira sighed, lighting his pipe and breathing in the sweet smoke of tobacco. “True, true. One could hardly believe what some chaps daydream about when closing their mouths around the bit of a pipe.”

At these words, James’ imagination ran wild, especially as he was kneeling in front of the man. “Yes...” he said finally, thinking of his own devious mind. “Men cannot be trusted.” He continued sorting through the drawings. It was hard to decide on some of them, but he knew the decision had to be swift. The ones he wanted, ended up in a sturdy suitcase with a lock.

Ira let out a short laugh before gazing at a large window. The room’s walls were covered with bookshelves and thick wooden panels in the same color, making it seem smaller and cozier than it was. Some family portraits and a sculpture of Apollo on a small, round table in the corner were the primary decorations. Of course, the servants had probably taken some of James' possessions as he could not locate them.

“That’s true,” said Ira, relaxing by the window. He took a few steps towards it, looking out and cursed quietly. “There are more of’em.”

“Fuck,” said James bluntly and instantly felt guilty that changing the subject, even to one as horrible as the undead, relieved him. He locked the suitcase once he packed the drawings into it and adjusted a special strap, so that he could have it hanging across his body. He still felt a blush on his cheeks, but looked out the window to see what Ira was talking about. He was telling the truth. A group of zombies was moving through the overgrown lawn at the back of the mansion. If that were not worrisome enough, the main door to the room started squeaking loudly, as if pushed from the other side. They immediately looked back at it and saw the two doors repeatedly bending slightly in the middle. A faint sound of growling was audible behind them.