Zombiekill (16 page)

The dog relinquished its grip, and Charlie’s bloody arm fell uselessly. She saw it look at her as it prepared to bite her again, and another dog in the background was coming up behind it. All her energy was gone, and Charlie couldn’t do it anymore. Her father was gone. Her mother was gone. Everyone she knew and loved was dead.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I—”

The huge Doberman lunged, and then Charlie saw a boot kick it in the side of the head.

“Get up,” said Schafer. “Quickly.”

Charlie felt him lift her to her feet, and in the rush her head swam.

“What are you...?” Charlie looked at him, at his bloodied ripped body, and was surprised he was still standing. His grey beard was covered in blood, and his eyes were sad. His soul had been shattered, and he looked ready to drop to his knees and give up. “Schafer, I thought—”

“Go. I killed one, but I can’t hold them off for long.” Schafer thrust a piece of bone in her hand no more than seven inches long. It was covered in matted fur and dripping with blood. “It’s from one of the dogs. Go, Charlie, go to the kennels and hide. Get away from here. Get Rilla for me. Please, make sure she is—”

The huge Doberman jumped on Schafer’s back, and he howled in pain as the dog’s claws dug into his skin. Charlie ran for the panels and pushed one back. The foul stench coming from the dark tunnel that lay ahead of her made her want to vomit, but the fear of staying drove her on. She looked back at Schafer as she silently lowered the swinging panel. All three dogs were on him, tearing and ripping his flesh with abandon as he succumbed to their power. Slowly, Charlie closed the panel. With blood dripping from her wounds, she crawled forward into darkness.

CHAPTER 10

Butcher threw back his hood and saw the expression on Rilla’s face. He suppressed a smirk and remembered the first time when he’d met Conan face to face. There was a certain degree of bemusement then too. It seemed he just had that effect on people. “What did you expect, a monster?”

Rilla had anticipated someone looking at least a little more sinister than what was revealed from underneath Butcher’s hood. The thick black hair that grew over his chin and neck also sprouted from the top of his head and flowed down to his shoulders. Yet his skin was pale and blotchy, as if it hadn’t seen sunlight for several weeks. Butcher had small brown eyes that appeared to be sunken into his skull and a bony nose that had probably been broken a few times. Despite his appearance, he was young, much younger than Rilla had expected, and she guessed he could barely be thirty years old.

“I might be young, but I know that monsters come in all shapes and sizes,” replied Rilla. “I wonder how you got to be like you are when you don’t even look old enough to grow that beard.”

Butcher smiled. Conan had delivered the two girls as ordered and left them with Verity, and Butcher had joined them in the house soon after. He needed to know just who he had let in. Presently they were in one of Attwood’s many sitting rooms. It was beautifully decorated with pieces of modern art on the walls and eclectic furniture spread throughout the spacious room. Rilla and Victoria were comfortably sat in an eggshell leather sofa whilst Butcher stood before them. Conan was in the door to the atrium, and Verity was in another corner of the room watching. There was no way out.

“Never mind me,” said Butcher. “It’s you two I’m interested in. How old are you?”

Rilla glanced at Conan. He had his arms folded and his handgun was tucked in a pocket from where but he could get it out quickly should the need arise. Conan was staring at Victoria intently. It wasn’t the look of a man who wanted to protect her, but to do something else, something that no man should want to do to a ten-year-old girl. Rilla turned and looked at Verity. Since arriving in the house, the woman had said nothing to them. Rilla guessed from her age that she might be Butcher’s mother. Her face was wrinkled and weathered from too much sun, appearing quite the opposite from Butcher, and she wore a velvety pink dressing gown. Evidently she hadn’t been awake, and the old woman’s bleary eyes suggested she wasn’t happy about it either.

“What does it matter how old I am? You don’t care about me or Vicky.” Rilla put an arm around Victoria who was silent. The young girl moved up the sofa to be closer to Rilla. “Just let my family in. Let Victoria’s mother join us. They’re good people. Please, just drop the tough guy act. Can’t you show a little humanity.”

“Humanity? You hear that, Conan?” Butcher laughed, but Conan just kept on staring at Victoria, his face blank but his eyes focused. “Rilla, I just saved your life. How about that for some humanity? We could have left you out there. We could have kept the door locked and waited for those zombies to take you all. But after we spotted you on the camera I opened the door, and now you’re sat here on this
nice
soft sofa in this
nice
house, and you’re asking me about fucking humanity?”

“So you saw us out there? You were watching?” asked Rilla.

“Yeah we were watching. What, do you really think that we’d still have a place like this if we weren’t? There’s a camera above the door. We can’t get the perimeter cameras working, but at least we’ve got the door covered. Anyone shows up we can flick a switch and let them in. Conan saw you heading here and got me long before you dumb fucks started bouncing around that annex.”

“Right, well then you’ll know that we can’t cause you any trouble. We don’t have any guns.” Rilla glanced at the gun in Conan’s pocket and wondered if that was all they had. She hadn’t seen Verity produce anything, and if Conan was the only one armed then there might be a chance of getting out of this. “You have to know we’re just ordinary people. We just wanted to see Attwood. This place is the best chance of surviving this nightmare. Where is he anyway? I want to talk to him.”

“That’s not possible right now.” Butcher reached across to a glass table where a decanter and six crystal glasses were.

As he grabbed a bottle of Scotch, Rilla noticed a gun under his jacket. She also saw a set of cutlery next to the decanter including a sharp knife. She had no doubt she could reach it before Butcher even realized what she was doing, but with Conan there she couldn’t risk it. He had already proved he wouldn’t hesitate to kill when he had shot Jeremy, and she wasn’t about to risk Victoria’s life. She also wasn’t about to wait all night for Butcher to get to the point. Her parents were still in that annex, or even worse had been thrown back out onto the street to face the zombies. She had to push things and get Butcher moving.

“Is he asleep?” Rilla stood up. “Attwood, you here?” she shouted. “Attwood, you hear me? Your
caretaker
is making an ass of himself.” She looked at Butcher directly. “Or maybe he’s just the guy who cleans out the septic tank?”

Butcher drank straight from the bottle of scotch and then put it back on the glass table. He ignored Rilla and walked to the sofa where Victoria sat.

“Hey there. You tired, darling?” Butcher looked up at Rilla and gave her a withering look as he continued speaking to Victoria. “You want to go to
bed
?”

He deliberately emphasized the last word knowing it would antagonize Rilla. She thought she could wind him up with her acerbic comments about him working for Attwood, but he had all night to play games. He could tell that Rilla was strong and not truly afraid of him. She hadn’t understood yet what she had gotten into. She still thought her family was safe, alive; she needed to understand just who was in charge.

“I think—” began Victoria, before Rilla cut her off.

“You leave her alone,” said Rilla grabbing Butcher’s arm. “Victoria, ignore him. Don’t listen to him.”

Butcher had been expecting Rilla to try something, and as she grabbed his arm he whipped around, forcing her arm around her back.

“Let go of me,” protested Rilla as she struggled to get free.

Forcing her back against the glass table, Butcher grabbed the gun from underneath his jacket and shoved it under Rilla’s nose. “Now just listen to me you fucking bitch. I will do whatever I want. I don’t work for Attwood. This place is
mine
. You want to talk to him, sure, I’ll take you to him. But first I need to know you’re going to behave.” Butcher drew the gun from under Rilla’s nose and pointed it at Victoria who remained on the sofa crying. “You going to behave?”

Rilla knew that the knife was right behind her almost within reach. The arm that Butcher had pinned was brushing against the decanter, and she could almost feel the knife. Yet there was something in his eyes that told her he was serious. He would shoot Victoria just to make a point. His breath reeked, and those brown eyes of his were hard and full of anger. He believed himself and thought he had all the answers. Rilla had to wait, find that one moment when he let his guard down, and then she would do whatever it took to get her family and Victoria to safety.

“Yes, I’ll behave.” Rilla said the words calmly and coldly. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was scaring her. “I’m...sorry.”

Butcher pushed Rilla back down onto the sofa. He pinched the top of his nose and sighed. “Let’s start again, and quit the messing about. How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” said Rilla, defiantly. “Vicky is ten, almost eleven.”

Butcher seemed pleased with the information. He looked across at Conan who was nodding his head. “Right then. I guess you don’t add up to much. I think we can get some use out of you though.”

“Wow, thanks a lot. I’m so lucky that you think so highly of us.” Rilla rubbed Victoria’s back and held her. The girl was withdrawn and scared, yet Rilla had no way of getting her out of there. “Mind you, Butcher, I get the impression you don’t think a lot at all.”

Butcher clapped his hands and let out a little laugh. “Hear that, Verity? This one’s got some fight in her.”

Rilla looked around the room, but there was nothing she could use to fight them off. She was outnumbered and outgunned, and as much as she hated to admit it, was going to have to go along with Butcher. Not that she intended to make it easy for him. Her father had brought her up to not be a pushover, and with Victoria in her care, she wasn’t about to cave now. “So can we go let my family in now?”

“Verity, I think it’s time little Victoria got to bed,” said Butcher looking at Rilla. “Take her up and make sure she’s tucked in tight. I don’t want any more surprises tonight.”

“Where are you taking her?” asked Rilla. “I’m not letting her go anywhere without me.”

“She’ll be fine,” said Verity. The old woman approached the sofa, dragging her bare feet across the expensive carpet. A limp unlit cigarette dangled from her mouth, and Verity held out her hand. “I’ll make sure to take good care of her. You can look in on her later.”

Rilla looked at Verity and knew she had no choice. At least Victoria seemed to be in better hands with her than with Butcher. And Rilla didn’t trust Conan as far as she could throw him.

“Vicky, go with this lady. I’m going to talk to Mr. Butcher, okay? I’ve got to go with him and get my parents. Your Mom too. Okay?”

Reluctantly, Victoria let go of Rilla’s hand and stood up. She looked at Rilla for reassurance.

“I want to go home,” said Victoria, shyly. “I just want to go home.”

“Go on. Verity will take you to your new room. I’ll be up shortly.”

Rilla hated not being able to reassure Victoria, but her home was as far away now as Rilla’s. As Rilla watched Victoria nervously take Verity’s hand, she wondered if her parents were still in the annex or had been thrown outside yet. How long would they survive out there at night without any weapons? How long
could
they survive? She had no option but to trust that Verity would look after Victoria, painful though it was to let the girl out of her sight. Perhaps they should’ve stayed at Jeremy’s. Perhaps seeking out Attwood’s had been a mistake after all. 

Verity led Victoria out of the room, and then Rilla stood up to face Butcher. “You promise she’ll be okay?”

“Conan, you can go back on watch now. Keep an eye out for any more unwanted visitors, though I think we’ve had all we’re due for one night. Don’t forget to clean up the cages in the morning and wash down the garage. Then Tad can take over on watch.”

Rilla felt relieved knowing that Conan had to go back out on watch. That meant he couldn’t do anything with Victoria. There was an uneasiness that crept through Rilla as she watched Conan silently leave the room. Butcher had mentioned someone else. She had assumed that it was just Butcher, Conan, Victoria, and Attwood here, but now there was someone else.

“Tad?”

Butcher smiled. “Don’t worry, you can meet him in the morning. I’m sure he’s going to
love
you. For now, we need to go get your parents, right? Maybe give you a little tour of the place?”

Butcher took Rilla’s arm sharply and held the gun to her back. “Just remember, no more games. Otherwise Victoria is going to have a very short stay here. I can assure you, though, it’ll be one she remembers.”

As Butcher led Rilla out of the room, a hundred thoughts swirled around her head. The smile that spread across Butcher’s face when he mentioned Tad had elicited disturbing thoughts about why he would ‘love’ her. She was putting a lot of faith in Verity about whom she knew nothing. She was worried about all the others she had left behind and even felt guilty for being in the house when they were still behind her in danger. Why was Attwood employing such assholes as his security?

“So the zombies can’t get in here?” asked Rilla, as Butcher led her back into the cool night air.

“No chance,” said Butcher confidently. “The walls running around the property, combined with the natural moat we have, mean we have had zero incidents. Zero. The only way in or out is through the garage and annex that you came through earlier which we have under constant supervision.”

“You’ve got it all worked out,” said Rilla. As they walked back from the house to the garage she tried to look around the property. It was dark, too dark to see clearly, and other than a few trees and a couple of vehicles, the place was apparently deserted. Attwood was probably sleeping soundly letting his henchmen take care of everything. “Of course, if you take it all for granted then one day it’ll all come crashing down around you. Those zombies will find a way in eventually. They’re not dumb animals.”

“Oh, I know,” said Butcher. “I’m quite impressed by them. Truthfully, they show a lot of resilience if you think about it. They never give up, never stop—not for nothing. Some of them have walked miles and miles across all types of terrain and through all kinds of weather. Yet they keep on coming. Nothing stops them. You can’t talk to them, make them turn around, or do anything. They don’t worry about visas or passports. None of that shit applies anymore. The only thing we can do is stay behind these walls and wait it out. One day something else will come along and wipe the scum out: a plague or a disease or something. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe they’ll do us all a favor and kill each other, just turn on themselves instead of coming after us and bringing their problems to my door. Poor fucks.”