Seeds of Rebellion (52 page)

“And you, Farfalee,” Nollin added.

“Halco and I will do everything in our power to keep the key members of the delegation uncompromised,” Kerick asserted.

“Any threat to Jason will have to pass through me first,” Tark vowed.

“I am under specific orders to protect Corinne and Rachel,” Nedwin said.

“I am here to do whatever is needed,” Drake pledged.

Farfalee glanced at her brother, a flash of pain and concern in her eyes. “Unwelcome as such a discussion may be, it does provide a practical hierarchy.”

“What of our bold displacer?” Nollin asked.

“He wants everyone to live,” Ferrin said tactfully. “Himself included.”

“Same with the smuggler,” Aram inserted.

“I believe we all understand what needs to happen,” Farfalee said. “Five of us have pledged to help ensure the survival of the others by any means necessary. But of course I want all of us to survive this passage through the Forsaken Kingdom. Aside from an examination of this diseased woman, our goal will be evasion. I agree that we need to investigate the effectiveness of projectiles against her. Hopefully, these unfortunate plague victims can be slain from a distance.”

Ferrin and Nedwin led the delegation to a hilltop that offered a view of the infected woman coming toward them. It was hard to apprehend details from a distance, but she was clearly limping. Her body was emaciated, her clothes tattered, her hair matted and filthy.

The rest of the delegation waited atop the hill while Kerick and Halco advanced fifty yards down the slope. Kerick carried a bow and Halco brought a sling. As the disheveled woman drew nearer, her hasty limp became more frantic.

“Halt!” Kerick demanded in a clear voice. “We mean you no harm.”

The woman continued forward without a response.

Kerick set an arrow to his bowstring and pulled it to his cheek. “Halt or I will be forced to shoot. We only wish to converse.”

The woman rasped a moaning reply. Straining her ears and using some imagination, Rachel believed the woman might have said “need.” The woman shambled toward Kerick with desperate vigor.

Kerick put an arrow through her chest. The impact made her stumble; then she continued toward him, oblivious to the injury.
Halco loosed a stone from his sling, which knocked her to the ground. Teeth bared angrily, the woman scrambled back to her feet.

“Please, halt,” Kerick demanded, retreating a few paces, his bow bent again.

She gave no response.

With rapid efficiency, Kerick began putting arrows through her head. By the third, she collapsed to the ground, finally immobile.

“Not promising,” Farfalee murmured. “At least enough arrows stopped her. The disease may control her, but it seems the commandeered body needs some brain function to stay in motion.”

“I have considerable experience handling dangerous and exotic substances,” Nedwin said. “Do you mind if I examine the corpse?”

“If you’re willing to risk the consequences,” Farfalee said.

Kerick and Halco withdrew from the fallen woman, and Nedwin approached gingerly, as if expecting that her unconsciousness might be a ruse. Eventually he crouched beside her and used a dagger to prod her in several places. With some effort, he extracted the arrows. After several minutes spent hunched over the inert form, Nedwin returned to the group.

“Worms,” Nedwin reported. “Small ones. Gray. Lots of them. No blood. Just skin, sinew, and bone. The worms were already at work repairing her injuries, knitting her flesh back together. They seemed too heavy to be transmitted through the air. I used my knife to dig out a worm. When I placed it on her arm, the little creature immediately burrowed below her skin.”

“It seems Ferrin provided accurate intelligence,” Farfalee said.

“The walking dead are vehicles governed by parasites,” Nollin said. “They aren’t people. We don’t need to show them any mercy.”

“If my corpse becomes animated by maggots,” Drake said, “please have mercy. Behead me. Burn me. Whatever it takes.”

“You didn’t even need to ask,” Halco assured him.

Rachel shivered. How would it feel to have worms tunnel into her body and assume command? How would she feel to see it happen to one of her companions? To Jason or Corinne? She might truly lose her mind.

Leaving the plague-savaged woman behind, the delegation marched southward. They passed a dilapidated village overgrown by shrubs and small trees, with most of the structures having collapsed into their foundations. Just after sunset, from a ridgetop, they glimpsed a distant city encompassed by a stone wall, its towers silent and dark in the twilight.

Kerick steered the group away from the quiet city. Rachel tried not to picture bloodthirsty zombies lurking behind those gloomy walls. She failed.

After some discussion, they made camp on high ground and lit a fire. Ferrin had insisted that the limping woman had been drawn to them by some instinct far more powerful than firelight, but hoped the flames might be used to intimidate attackers. Kerick had reasoned that while the high ground exposed them visually and allowed enemies to approach from all sides, it also enabled the group to see their enemies coming and to flee in any direction.

Rachel bedded down near Corinne and Jason. “Do you think we can outrun these things if they’re not limping?” Rachel wondered aloud.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Jason replied. “Let’s hope there’s a reason they’re not called the running dead.”

“What do you call the walking dead when you kill them?” Corinne asked.

“Morbid question,” Jason approved. “The walking deader? The no-longer-walking dead?”

“The resting dead,” Rachel said.

“Rachel wins,” Corinne decreed.

“I don’t like how that lady was coming straight at us,” Jason said. “Makes you wonder how many of them are out there right now, heading our way, walking, or limping, or dragging themselves over—”

“Enough,” Rachel said firmly. “I’m already going to have a lousy time sleeping.”

“Better to be prepared than surprised,” Jason said.

“Imagining zombies in the night doesn’t prepare us,” Rachel countered. “If we’re going to get attacked, better to rest than stay up worrying.”

As if in response to their conversation, a shape appeared out of the night at the edge of the firelight, making Rachel gasp until she recognized Nedwin. They hadn’t seen him in hours. He came and crouched beside Jason.

“You were gone a while,” Jason said.

“I don’t like this place,” Nedwin whispered. “I found some hoofprints. Feral pigs. Goats. Wild horses. I toured an abandoned town. There was evidence of other members of the walking dead. I expect we’ll see trouble tonight.”

Jason shot Rachel a significant look. “So what do we do?”

“Try to get some sleep,” Nedwin said.

Rachel shot a look back at Jason.

“I better go report to Farfalee,” Nedwin said.

“I’m not sure I can sleep,” Corinne said. “I’ve never felt so nervous! Is it like this a lot?”

“This is extra bad,” Jason said.

“Horror movie bad,” Rachel agreed.

“Horror movie?” Corinne asked.

“Scary stories we have in the Beyond,” Rachel clarified.

“With titles like
Attack of the Wormy Zombies
,” Jason added. “They tend to be really bloody.”

Eyes wide, Corinne sat rigidly. “How do they usually end?”

Jason and Rachel shared a knowing look.

The assault came in the deepest hours of the night. Kerick roused the group with a shouted warning. By the time Rachel was on her feet, she could hear the walking dead stumbling in the darkness. A muffled groan somewhere in the blackness made the hair on her arms stand up. Heart thudding, mind wishing she was dreaming, her first realization was that the attackers seemed to be closing in from all directions.

Clouds muted the moon and blocked much of the starlight, leaving Rachel squinting at vague shapes approaching up the hillside. Farfalee and Kerick began loosing arrows, and some of the shapes staggered. Nedwin appeared beside Rachel. “We’re surrounded,” he hissed, a dagger in each hand. “Stay near me.”

Jason drew his sword. Tark stood at his side, a weighty knife in one hand, a torch in the other.

“Plan?” Drake asked.

“They’re on all sides,” Halco answered.

“We move as a group,” Farfalee said briskly. “Break through their ranks and try to outpace them.”

“Which way?” Ferrin asked.

“Hard to say,” Kerick responded, releasing another arrow. From multiple directions, infected corpses neared the perimeter of the firelight.

“That way,” Nedwin said firmly, extending an arm. “A bit steeper, but fewer enemies.”

A husky man with curly hair lumbered into the light, moving in an awkward jog and clutching a heavy stick. One of his eyes was rolled back, showing almost no iris, and he wore no shirt. A pair of arrows to the head dropped him.

Aram brandished his massive sword. “Follow me,” he boomed. “I’ll open a path.” Bearing a sword and a torch, Ferrin advanced beside the half giant in the direction Nedwin had indicated. The group formed up around Rachel, Corinne, and Jason, weapons ready, moving away from the campfire with hurried, shuffling paces. Vicious sweeps of Aram’s sword sent enemies sailing.

Glancing back, Rachel saw figures rushing forward from the far side of the campfire. Focusing on the logs, she uttered a command that sent them flying at the undead attackers amid a fiery spray of sparks and embers. The logs launched with terrific force, some of them shattering against bodies, and the assailants recoiled from the blaze with tucked heads and upraised hands.

The use of Edomic brought a euphoric rush utterly incongruent with the fear that had been squeezing Rachel’s heart. Suddenly she felt more alert and capable. The logs had taken flight with more force than she had expected, probably because the command had been energized by her panic.

“They don’t like fire,” Ferrin called, jabbing with his torch before slashing with his sword.

Aram clubbed a sinewy woman with the flat of his sword, the impact sending her into a clumsy cartwheel. Tark swung his torch to ward off an undead teen with a bony body. Kerick released more arrows.

“Faster!” Halco warned from the rear of the group. “They’re converging on us.”

Peeking over her shoulder, Rachel saw figures hurrying jerkily toward them from all sides of the hill, adjusting their pursuit with alarming coordination. The slope had become steep enough that Rachel was descending sideways with her knees bent, the soles of her moccasins sliding on the dirt.

“Run!” Farfalee ordered.

Aram bullied his way forward even faster, a human wrecking ball who left broken zombies cast aside like groaning heaps of litter. Rachel did not know what they would have done without him to lead the charge. She picked up the pace along with the rest of the group. By the faint moonlight and the unsteady glow of three torches, they raced down the slope, Aram slamming enemies aside with his sword, Ferrin and the others doing their best to cut down the leftovers. The incline helped Rachel reach such great speed that she doubted whether she could stop herself. If she fell, it would be painfully spectacular. Around her the others ran with similar haste, weapons glinting in the torchlight.

As the incline became less steep, Rachel regained some control of her strides. Nollin had tripped on the slope, but Halco had dragged him to his feet speedily enough that the pair of seedmen had not fallen too far behind the others. For the moment the delegation had outdistanced the zombies, although Rachel could hear them crashing recklessly down the hillside.

“What now?” Kerick asked, still running as he spoke.

“Some of us could stand our ground and slow them,” Tark offered.

“Too many of them,” Farfalee said. “They’d sweep by you. The sacrifice would be meaningless.”

“Split up?” Nedwin asked.

“That attack felt planned,” Farfalee said, breathing hard. “Sloppy, but with evidence of organization. A group massed around us and came from all sides. If we split up, I expect they will adapt.”

“We need to find a narrow place,” Kerick said. “A position where a few of us might detain them.”

“I saw nothing like that in the area,” Nedwin said. “But we need to veer left up here or we’ll get boxed in by some steep terrain.”

They continued at a sprint, Aram in the front, Halco in the rear, the torches shedding just enough light to allow them to dodge natural obstacles. Behind the group, Rachel could hear their bloodless enemies crashing through bushes and stumbling over rocks. With the delegation running at full speed, the zombies were gradually losing ground. Rachel doubted whether she could sustain this pace for more than a few minutes. She assumed the walking dead could keep charging all night.

“How many were there?” Nollin asked.

“At least forty,” Farfalee said.

“At least sixty,” Nedwin corrected.

“It will be minutes before they overtake us,” Kerick asserted. “Any defensible ground up ahead?”

“A little table of rock,” Nedwin said. “Maybe twenty feet above the surrounding land. One side is rather steep; the others are sheer. If we beat them there, they’d have to climb to reach us.”