Zombiekill (21 page)

Charlie crept by the wall of the house until she neared one of the windows where light was spilling out into the garden. The window was ajar, allowing her to get close enough to see and hear what was going on inside.

“You’ve outdone yourself. Cheeseburger and chips. Although I could do without the green stuff on the side of the plate. It’s pretty good.”

“Okay, enough small talk. I’m worried about those zombies. I still don’t see how you let them get in.”

Charlie heard two male voices talking and tried to see if she recognized them. As she stuck her head above the window ledge she could just see one of the speakers. It was Butcher. The other man was sat at a table eating, but had his back to her. The room looked like something out of a posh restaurant. Gleaming silver cutlery and candles adorned the huge wooden table. The chairs were lined with velvet and the walls covered in flock wallpaper with a massive chandelier hanging over the center of the table.

“I’m telling you, it looked like one of them knocked on the door. The security camera’s probably whacked. What else can I say? I
thought
one of them knocked.”

“Zombies don’t knock, you idiot.”

“Well I know that now, but—”

“All right, enough, Tad. Just don’t let it happen again. One of them scraped against the door, and you thought they knocked. It’s dark, and you misread the situation. When you’ve finished dinner you can go back and clean up. I don’t want those dead fucks stinking up my annex any longer than they had to. Once the dogs are through, I want you back out there.”

“But I thought I could—”

“Just do it, Tad. Don’t fight me. I let you do the girl, didn’t I? I thought you were getting with the program, and then you do something stupid like letting four zombies in. This is serious shit, Tad. You need to think a bit more about what you’re doing.”

Charlie watched as Butcher raised a glass of red wine and drank. She moved to the side and saw another man at the table. It was Conan, the huge man who had taken Rilla. As all three men ate, the smoking woman came into the room and Charlie ducked. The woman had looked straight out of the window almost directly at her. The woman walked to the window, and Charlie held her breath as she crouched down in the shadows.

“Can’t none of you dumb asses close the window? It’s raining out.”

Charlie heard the windows being pulled shut, and then the woman walked away. Charlie knew she had been close to being discovered. She could still hear the muffled voices, though, and remained where she was. There were four of them apparently. If that was it, then where was Attwood?

“I’m going upstairs,” said Butcher. “Verity, get the bitch cleaned up will you? She ain’t good for nothing the state she’s in.”

“The green dress?” asked the woman.

“Yeah, it needs ironing. And some makeup this time. Rilla’s skin is so pale; it’s like fucking a ghost.”

As she listened to the four people in the room laughing, Charlie didn’t know how to feel. There was some relief with confirmation that Rilla was alive. Yet they obviously had her held upstairs and were abusing her. Was it all of them or just Butcher? Who could be so callous as to do that to a young girl?

“I know, I know,” said Butcher. “Once we’ve all had our fair turn with her we’ll let Attwood have her. Should be interesting to see that old fuck eat her out.”

With more laughter echoing in the room, Charlie crept away from the window and back to the vehicles where she could hide and reformulate her plan. Whatever was going on, they were all in on it. Even the woman had laughed. These people weren’t even human anymore. And what about Attwood? Was he just letting them rule the place, letting Butcher tell them what to do? Charlie slid her gown off. It was dirty and wet and would only slow her down now. She had an idea of what and who she would do next, but she had to find a way into the house. She had to make sure Rilla was safe before she went any further. Charlie tried the door handle of the sedan, and it opened easily. She climbed into the front seat and closed the door. The gentle rain tapped on the roof of the car, and she sat watching the house. The four people were sat at a table eating their dinner as if it was a normal day. It was as if they were blocking out the world and what was happening. There were so many people who could be saved, who needed help, and yet they had locked themselves away with no regard for anyone but themselves. They were evil. They had killed to protect what they had when they had more than they could even use. Charlie looked at the mansion. There were probably a dozen bedrooms, not to mention all the other rooms that weren’t even being used. Her father would have liked it. Schafer and Magda would’ve been happy to have found a place like this for Rilla. Jeremy and Lyn would’ve had a safe place to raise Victoria. That had all been taken away from them by these people. Charlie angrily took off her knapsack and opened it. The few things she had brought with her would be sufficient for what she was going to do next, and she rummaged through the bag until she found what she wanted. She would have to travel light and leave the rest of her supplies in the sedan. The view of the car was obscured from the house by the pickup truck. It was perfect.

Charlie got out of the car and looked at her reflection in a wing mirror. She carefully applied a deep red lipstick she had brought with her and then slipped off the roll-neck jersey, leaving it in the car beside her knapsack. The knife hidden beneath her waist felt good. She remembered when Kyler had given it to her, thinking that she would never need it, at least not on the living. But now she would use it in a heartbeat if she had to. These people didn’t deserve a quick death. She jogged back over to the house and found a quiet spot beneath an oak tree to wait. It was only a few feet away, and she could see into the dining room where the four people appeared to be finishing up. The temperature was dropping, but it was still warm, and even the raindrops were pleasant as they fell on Charlie’s skin. She waited beneath the tree until she saw the front door of the house open. As expected, a man emerged from it and immediately began walking toward the annex. Charlie watched the man walk. He had a slighter figure than Butcher and was only half the size of Conan. He had light blonde hair sticking out from underneath a cap and looked at the ground as he walked. She wondered if it were he who had killed Victoria. He had ‘done the girl.’ Either way, he was in with Butcher, and there was no going back now. She tried to remember what Butcher had called him—Todd or Tad something? It didn’t really matter. He was already a dead man. As he got closer, Charlie saw that the cap he was wearing was Kyler’s fishing cap. That confirmed that he was no better than Butcher. He was a killer. If he was anything like Butcher, then he had probably raped Rilla too. He would be the second to die.

Charlie waited until Tad was out of sight and then ran to the front door. Unlocked, she said a prayer and opened it, wondering if she was going to come face to face with Butcher or one of the others. Instead, she found the hallway empty. The quietness of the room was unnerving. There was a stairway to her left with plush red carpet and another huge chandelier hanging above her. As she stepped into the room she closed the front door behind her. They obviously felt no need to lock it anymore. There were three doors she could choose to go through and an open doorway to the right which appeared to lead toward the dining room. The only light in the hallway was coming from that corridor to the dining room. A couple of candles at the top of the staircase told her that they were either conserving power or more likely being cautious. Perhaps they didn’t have enough energy to sustain running the entire place. It would be unnecessary to light up all the rooms. Equally, if they lit up the whole house it would be seen from the top of the hill across Peterborough and beyond. Did they really want the place to be a beacon for the dead? Or perhaps they were more concerned about attracting the living.

Charlie slipped off her shoes and hid them underneath a hat stand alongside several other pairs. Her bare feet would make her footsteps quieter, and she hoped that every room was carpeted. The carpet in the hallway was thick and would hide her movements. She listened, hearing clattering noises from somewhere deeper within the house. Somebody was clearing away the dishes which meant at least one of them was occupied in the kitchen. With one outside that meant there were only two left, plus Attwood. The odds of getting to Rilla first were increasing by the second, and Charlie marched over to the staircase. She ascended slowly, watching out for any creaking floorboards. She found none. Reaching the top of the staircase had been easy, and the flickering candles showed her two options. To the left was a long corridor with what appeared to be several doors and to the right the same. There was no immediate clue as to what direction she should go to search for Rilla. The options were too numerous and Charlie stepped to the left into the thick shadows so she had time to think. The stairs were dark, but the candles gave off enough light for her to be seen if anyone came by. Charlie closed her eyes and listened. There had to be something. She didn’t have time to search the whole mansion. Rilla didn’t have time. The house was gloomy, but Charlie had become used to the darkness. After the kennel and the tunnel, after the night in Peterborough’s streets and the company of zombies, she found the darkness almost soothing now. She could hide in the dark and found light uncomfortable. She liked it now, the protection the darkness gave her. It was no longer an enemy but a compatriot, complicit in her plans. In the darkness she could be anyone she wanted to be.

A faint hissing sound caught Charlie’s ear. It disappeared and then came back again. It was coming from behind one of the doors to the right. Charlie looked down the stairs at the front door. It was still quiet, so she darted across to the other corridor from where the noise was coming from. As she made her way slowly down the dark corridor, heading further into blackness, she heard the hissing sound again and then it stopped abruptly. There was a faint rattling sound and then a smacking sound, as if two wet pieces of leather had been slapped together. Charlie edged further down the corridor and noticed that a sliver of light was coming out from beneath one of the doors. She made her way to it and stopped when she was a couple of feet away. She heard another smacking sound and a muffled voice. She had found someone, though she couldn’t hear who. Charlie drew the Air Ranger out and put one hand on the door handle. The golden knob was cold and slipping in quietly unnoticed was impossible. She was going to have to go for it.

“Fight or die, Dad,” Charlie said, and she flung open the door.

“Who the hell are you?”

Charlie tried to gather her thoughts quickly as she barged into the room, the sharp blade out in front of her. Rilla lay on top of a bed wearing a freshly laundered green dress that stopped above the knee. Her lip was bleeding, and her hands were bound. As Charlie entered the large room Rilla looked at her with growing surprise on her face. Beside the bed was the old woman holding a mirror and hairbrush, and next to her was an ironing board, the iron still steaming, and a small bedside table full of make-up.

“What are you doing in—?”

Before the old woman could finish her question Charlie rushed forward and lunged for her. The old woman was surprised, but not enough to wait to be stabbed, and she threw the mirror at Charlie as she attacked. The mirror glanced off Charlie’s head and she ignored it. It had given the old woman enough time to prepare for the attack, though, and she raised her arms in defense. Charlie sliced the knife through the woman’s outstretched palm, and they fell onto the bed together in a heap. Charlie grabbed the woman but the bed was soft, and it was impossible to pin her down. Charlie tried to ram the knife through her again, but the old woman moved quickly, bringing a knee up into Charlie’s stomach.

As Charlie rolled away in pain she saw Rilla sit up and throw her bound arms around the woman. Charlie looked for her knife, but it was lost in the folds of the bedclothes, and she was desperately trying to suck in air as she looked for a weapon. Rilla had a hold of the woman, but Charlie could see Rilla was weak. The old woman leant forward slightly, and then smashed her head backward, causing the base of her skull to smack into Rilla’s face. Rilla screamed out in pain and let go of the woman who crawled across the bed to Charlie with murderous intent in her eyes.

“Wait,” said Charlie, but it was too late for talking.

The old woman planted a fist in Charlie’s face and sent her flying off the bed. The old woman followed her and kicked Charlie in the gut again as she crawled across the floor around the foot of the bed.

“You come into
my
house and attack me?” Verity kicked Charlie again. “Who the fuck are you?”

Charlie felt another foot in her gut, and she put a hand on a leg of the ironing board for support as the breath was knocked out of her once again.

“Holy shit, you her girlfriend or something?” asked Verity, as she stared at Charlie. “You really think you can come in here and do as you please? Butcher is going to fuck you up.”

Charlie used the legs of the ironing board to get to her feet. The old woman was staring at her, and Charlie knew that she was as bad as Butcher. Rilla was on the bed dazed and bleeding, and Charlie knew she had to stop the old woman from alerting the others.

“Why?” asked Charlie clutching her stomach. “Why are you doing this?”

“Look at you,” replied Verity. “Pathetic. You come to us with your hands out, and when we bring one of you in this is how you repay us. With violence. That’s why we can’t let you all in. We select only the
prime cuts
, don’t you see that? The annoying little girl was good for Conan, but it’s you two who I’m most curious about. My boys have had their fun with this bitch, but you offer something new. They haven’t had a blonde in a while.”