Hellspawn (Book 1) (25 page)

The two intruders were taken through the attics and into the house with the open roof, and then tied to heavy oak chairs with ropes and tape. Everyone agreed that the further the intruders were from their sanctuary while they decided their fate, the better. The hulk of a man had been dragged unceremoniously through each attic, still out cold, so they were uncaring of the bumps he endured. Paige’s beaten victim was also pulled up into the attic with a great deal more vocal resistance, though none of the family cared for his protests. Once they had been secured and sat there, shivering in the frigid air, Gloria wrapped herself in a blanket and likewise seated herself, gun aimed at the pair with safety catch off.

“You go and finish what we started. I will cover these… gentlemen,” Gloria instructed and the rest moved off to comply. The attack had caught them all off guard, but it wouldn’t happen again. The conscious man just sat there, trying not to move or pull too much on his restraints to minimise the pain of his whole body. He felt as if he had been run over.

Gloria appraised the pair. One was freakishly large, not a body builder by any stretch as there was far too much fat, but the arms, shoulders, and chest were heavily muscled beneath it. His belly was round and protuberant, the result of years of drinking in local dives. He had long, brown, greasy hair that hung over his face, concealing the features. She had seen all she wanted to of that face when he held Braiden. It was the face of a predator with soulless eyes like those of a shark. His visible skin, as well as parts of his face, was covered with fading tattoos, most likely from prison, judging by the poor quality. His friend groaned softly. He was much thinner and smaller, five foot eight compared to well over six for the brute. His face was pinched and scarred; there was an uncanny rat like semblance to it, with a protruding jaw line and sharp nose. Neither looked like the type you would want to meet in a dark alley, or even a well-lit public place for that matter.

Gloria checked the gun once again, knowing the miscreants were secure but still fearful of what they were capable of doing. Her mind was torn between mercy and the turning of the other cheek. As a born and raised Christian, it was how she had lived her life. But these specimens were less than animals and she knew that the new world would be a better place without having to contend with evil such as this.

“Can you loosen my hands?” whispered the rodent faced man. “It’s so painful.”

Gloria ignored him and aimed the gun in their direction, signalling her answer. It was enough to silence the whining. The cold was biting through the blanket and it must have been even worse for the pair tied to the chairs, although after what they had planned to do, they were lucky to be alive. The deviants’ coats and jumpers had been removed and thrown out of the roof hole while they were checked for weapons. The thin layers they had been left with would not be sufficient to ward off the near freezing temperatures if they were kept in the attic for any length of time.

“Any trouble?” John queried as he entered followed by Kurt, Sarah, and the rest of the family.

“A little snivelling from that one, but apart from that, nothing. The big, dumb one is either still out cold or he is pretending and seeing if he can seize an opportunity. I suspect the latter by the way he has been trying to slyly get out of his bonds,” Gloria said.

The long haired rogue looked up and glared venomously at the group.

“Ahh there he is. Did you have nice dreams?” Gloria taunted, trying to remain cool and aloof, as if this kind of scenario was normal to her.

“Fuck off slut,” he rasped; the heavy purple bruising from the butt of the gun was accompanied by a growing lump. It only served to make him even more evil looking.

“I’d shut my mouth before you get fed to our friends down there!” shouted Kurt.

The man mountain turned to face him. “You don’t scare me. If you were going to kill us you would have already done it. You tied us up because you haven’t got the guts and don’t know what else to do,” he taunted and he was totally correct. The initial desire for bloody vengeance had gone, they just weren’t that kind of people, and each of them realised this was a new problem. Somewhat naively, they had assumed people would come together in joyful cooperation to save their race in the face of overwhelming horror. The reality was far worse. It now seemed that the most likely to survive and thrive in this world would be the violent and compassionless. How did the saying go, good guys finish last? Never had it been truer, but dating had been replaced by zombie apocalypse survival. They couldn’t let this play out with the captors calling the shots so John thought quickly and came up with an idea.

“Don’t worry, we may still kill you. You think because we don’t stink of shit that we are weak?” John had put on a front as well. It may be that they would need to become like the filth that sat in front of them, though they would fight it every step of the way. “We are going to have a little question and answer session. Every time one of you gives a wrong answer or talks shit, we will move you closer to the attic hatch. If you push us too far, you will be going through it and meeting our house guests. Do you understand?”

Rat and Hulk looked at each other and they both laughed, Rat less so because each chuckle caused pain to burst through his ribcage and spine.

“Fine.” John and Kurt moved behind the pair, held their breath and dragged each chair a foot closer to the opening and its threat of waiting arms and teeth. Kurt was lumbered with Hulk and even using the chair legs as leverage, it was quite an effort to move him. God, he really didn’t want to come up against this freak if the roles were ever reversed, Kurt prayed.

“So by my reckoning, another eight outbursts like that and they will be ripped to pieces, what do you think?” John asked Kurt, encouraging him to play the role.

“It may even be seven if we pull too much. I tell you what, to make it fair, I’m adding a new rule. If one of you answers wrong, then both of you will be moved. Let’s call it equal opportunities questioning.” Kurt moved back to the front of the chairs.

“So, question one. Which one is Paul and where are the other two of you? We have searched and they aren’t here.” John stood before them inquisitorially. He knew that arrival to the hatch was inevitable, and then they would have to give up the pretence of being killers, but it was necessary to try and glean any information they could. Hulk was stony faced and seemed resolute, but Rat was sweating and his eyes were giving away his uncertainty.

“Ok, your choice,” Kurt said and started to grab the back of their chairs.

“NO, WAIT!” shrieked Rat.

“Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll cut your throat!” growled Hulk. Despite the previous threat, they only dragged him backwards a foot, leaving Rat where he was. The look of relief on the little rodent’s face was a picture. They had him.

“I’m Archie. That’s HP, short for Harry Peterson. The other two are back in the house. We were only supposed to have a look around and report back but…,” Rat said. They all knew what the ‘but’ meant, if there was an opportunity to hurt and rape, the treacherous animals would have taken it.

“You fucking grass, you know what we will do to you now!” threatened HP as he was dragged closer to the hatch. If looks could kill, they would all be melting piles of scorched flesh; thankfully he lacked that power and just carried on scowling.

“I asked for all of your names, who are the other two?” John leaned the rat’s chair back, ready to move it, but Archie’s will was broken. They could ask him anything and he would answer truthfully to save his own hide. John had met men like this before and he despised them, cowards and perverts only concerned about themselves. He would have preferred to be dragging Archie to the hole because at least HP had mettle.

“The others are Phil and Edmond, but he prefers Eddie,” Archie rambled as if they would care about the preferred name of the vile scum.

“Who was talking to us through the mirror?” Kurt asked.

“That was Phil. He was in the Navy until he got discharged for beating up an officer. He is hung over and didn’t want to risk the journey to get here while he is still half pissed.” Archie was telling them everything.

“You fuck, I’m going to flay you living when we get back,” HP shouted and was rewarded with a further shift of his chair. In their anger, John and Kurt had positioned it so that he was now only two paces from the hatch. They had to be a bit more careful or the questioning game would cease as they run out of room.

“Why did you come for us, why didn’t you just hide and wait for rescue?” John had been desperate to ask the question since they had been subdued, but had held back until Archie mentioned risking the attack.

“Because we aren’t snivelling pussies like you. Who gives a fuck if there are loads of those dead creeps around, it’s not like they can out run us. We just walk round them,” HP said and they ignored the insult. Kurt wanted to explain the reason for the killing table and the failed rescue attempt, but it would be anathema to men like this. The two low-lifes would probably laugh even more to find out the family had had risked their lives for strangers.

“How did you all end up in the house when this broke out? Why weren’t you at work?” Kurt asked and knew immediately it was a silly question. People like this don’t work, they take from good people. HP just laughed, however Archie treated it as a valid question.

“We don’t work. We deal drugs and burgle houses. I haven’t had a job since I was seventeen.” Archie was in full flow, trying to please them.

“You dozy twat.” HP just shook his head, feeling the same disgust as John had earlier. Archie was a pathetic excuse for a human being.

“What have you done for survival, Phil said you had plenty of supplies?” Kurt continued the questions.

“Yeah we have just taken stuff at night from the surrounding houses. Anything we want,” Archie answered and the way he said the final bit, a look passed over his face. It was a sickly expression, one that spoke of unspeakable things and Kurt wanted to know more.

“What did you mean by ‘anything we want’?” Kurt got up close to try and intimidate him, but the memories were still flashing through Archie’s demented mind.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell them!” HP warned and John pulled him all the way to the hatch, the threat wasn’t working as intended anyway so John tried one last throw of the dice. Craning his neck, HP could look over his shoulder and see the waiting demons. The sight of flesh had excited them and they groped wildly at him, his fear won and he was silent.

“I asked you a question!” Kurt shouted at Archie.

“What?” He was momentarily confused at where he was, but it came flooding back. “Oh, I meant food and stuff, equipment, you know. That kind of thing.”

Kurt was unconvinced but he had a fairly good idea of what he meant.

“Do you have any guns?” Gloria asked, emphasising her own for their benefit. She hoped for a no.

“No, but we know where some are,” Archie answered and Gloria felt renewed fear. If the criminals were unarmed then the family could fend off an attack, but with firearms, they would be helpless.

“You are dead,” HP said to Archie without emotion and they knew he was serious. His eyes dared Kurt to tip him back in the hole, but Kurt wouldn’t and this told HP all he needed to know. A dark grin appeared on his face at the knowledge.

“Tell me where they are, now!” Gloria aimed the gun straight at Archie’s chest.

“Southampton. It’s where we get our supply of drugs from. I can give you the address if you want?” Archie added, giving them the details which John noted on a bit of paper, knowing they would do nothing with it.

Without showing it, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Southampton was over thirty miles away at least, and in one of the most densely populated cities in the country. Millions of the undead would be roaming the streets. The chances of this group collecting the guns were slightly lower than a snowball surviving in Hell, but the implausibility hadn’t occurred to Archie.

“That’s good,” Gloria finished and sat back down, covering them with her weapon.

A look passed between the family, they had found out the names of the enemy and confirmed how many they had to guard against. They had shown their weapons and knew they had the upper hand on that front. John shot a look at Kurt which said ‘what now?’ and Kurt took the lead.

“Now, if we choose to let you go, instead of feeding you to our friends below, can we trust you to keep to yourselves or should we just kill you now?” Kurt tried to add menace to his voice but only Archie was still falling for it.

“Yeah we will keep away, they can trust us, can’t they HP?” Archie babbled, seeing only the possibility of continued life, not the fact that they were being released because the family couldn’t find it in them to kill helpless men, even men as horrendous as this.

“HP, you are you going to play nice?” John asked, knowing this was not going to be the end of it.

“Go fuck yourself,” he replied.

“Do you want me to use this?” Gloria shouted and stood up, marching over and putting it against his barrel chest.

“PULL THE FUCKING TRIGGER THEN. GO ON!” he roared, calling the old lady’s bluff. Although she was sorely tempted, it wasn’t in her. Gloria lowered the gun and a maniacal look came over HP’s face. These people were ripe for the taking, they just had to play it clever when they came back, he thought.