Zombiekill (23 page)

“That’s
mine
.” Why did people think they could just take what they wanted? She had given up on understanding this new world. Her father had warned her of people like this. He had thought the answer might be to build a wall between the living and the dead; between those who had life and those who wanted it. But separating them was never going to work. Death was as much a part of life as anything, and no wall was going to stop it.

Charlie nestled her back against the oak tree and looked at the house as she regained her breath. Two left. Butcher and Conan. If Attwood was still around, then he was keeping a low profile. He would keep. Who was next was really just who came out first looking for this one. She didn’t care who she killed next. It was just a means to an end. Kyler would be pleased with her. She had thought he was insane spending all that time readying for a fight. All along he had been right. The world was a different place now. When it came to them and us, it wasn’t the walking corpses he was talking about.

Charlie headed back to the sedan, intending to check on Rilla, when she saw movement from the house. A figure came out, and Charlie darted behind the pickup truck. She needed whoever it was to get much closer to her. She wasn’t sure if they were armed, either, and couldn’t afford to take any chances. Holding the gun down at her side, she waited to see what direction they headed for. The figure seemed to pause and think before heading for the cars. She had hoped they would go for the annex. That way they would get ahead of her, and she could take them out from behind. A clean shot in the back of the head would do it. But if they came to the parked vehicles, they might find Rilla. That would complicate things.

The footsteps got closer, and Charlie peered around the edge of the truck. It was Conan. The size of him seemed even bigger than she remembered. He looked like a sumo wrestler except his bulk was all muscle and no fat.

“Yo, Tad, you fucking around out here? What’re you doing? We’ve cleaned up inside, so if you’re done out here we’ll get to work on the girl.”

Confrontation used to scare her. Charlie would shy away from arguments, and even when Jackson had dumped her she had let him off easy. Kyler had told her as much. She had lost her head when it had fallen apart. So much had happened since then that she had to stop herself from bursting out laughing. Remembering how she used to be felt like a dream. She had gone from nothing, from an ordinary girl, to standing outside a millionaire’s mansion holding a gun having just killed two people. Charlie smiled and stepped out from behind the truck and pointed Tad’s gun at Conan.

“Hold it.”

Conan had been about to discover Rilla in the sedan, and it seemed like now was as good a time as any. It wouldn’t make any difference now if she made some noise. She needed to anyway, and shooting Conan dead in cold blood just as he had Jeremy would be fitting.

“Who the fuck are you?” Conan pulled at his white goatee with curiosity. There was no sense of fear in his voice. He stared at Charlie. “How did you... what did you do with Tad?”

Charlie smiled sweetly. “Tad? He’s a little short of breath right now. Don’t worry. He’ll be up on his feet soon. He’s just another of those walking zombies now, just like you.”

Charlie pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. Nothing happened. She pulled it again and still nothing happened.

Conan grinned. “Empty, bitch.”

He charged at her, and Charlie had only a split second to decide what to do. Tad’s gun was a dud, for show only. Just like the man himself; all style and no substance. Charlie knew she could stay and fight, but the man was like a giant, and overpowering him would be virtually impossible. The other option was to run, but she hated that option. She really hated running now; hated turning away from a fight. She had to take a long-term view, though, and knew if she could lose him in the darkness she could regain the advantage. Charlie turned on her heels and ran into the darkness away from the house.

Conan ran after her, his lumbering bulk sending tremors through the ground. “You’re dead, you know that?” he shouted, but the girl kept running. She was a stranger, and yet there was something about her blue eyes that was familiar. He felt like he had looked into those eyes before, but he couldn’t place them. It was irrelevant. He was going to beat her to a pulp and worry about it later. Nobody took a shot at him. He knew he was lucky the gun wasn’t loaded. The girl obviously didn’t know that either which made him wonder what she was doing here. If she had come to kill him, then why not bring a loaded gun?

Tad.

As Conan chased after her he realized she had gotten the gun off Tad. She had killed him and taken his gun except she hadn’t checked to see if it was actually loaded. It was just like that stupid fool to not carry a loaded weapon. The idiot fuck deserved what he got.

They were in the gardens of the house now, and Charlie had no idea where she was going. She was leading him away from Rilla which was one of her aims, but she didn’t seem to be making much ground. She glanced around as she ran and could still see and hear the big man following her. He was surprisingly quick on his feet, and Charlie knew she was going to do well to give him the slip. The ground beneath her bare feet was soft, and her only advantage now was that she was dressed in black. Conan was still behind her, and she turned back to look for some place to hide when she suddenly hit something and went flying.

The cooler spilled out warm water over the ground and Charlie screamed as she hit the dirt. With her face literally planted in the rose garden, Charlie grabbed the rose bush and ignored the sharp thorns that dug into her skin. Her shin was throbbing from where she had run straight into the cooler. Maybe running around in the dark hadn’t been such a good idea. As she got to her feet, she heard a moaning sound coming from above her.

“What the hell?” Charlie couldn’t understand what she was looking at. The windows of the house didn’t give off enough light for her to see clearly out in the garden, but it looked like a huge cross. There appeared to be a man strung up on it, yet the sounds emitted from above her were not the sounds of a living man or even someone in pain. They were the sounds of the dead.

“I see you met Attwood,” said Conan, as he planted a fist into Charlie’s face.

Once more Charlie found herself falling and collapsing into a thorny rose bush. Her face felt like a freight train had slammed into it, and blood gushed from her nose. A rough hand grabbed her left arm, and she squealed in pain. In the darkness she heard laughter.

“That hurt?” asked Conan, laughing and holding Charlie in front of him. There was no doubt she would drop like a stone if he didn’t support her.

She looked at him through glazed eyes. The sucker punch to the side of the head had knocked her for six. The whole world was fuzzy. She knew enough. Conan had caught her. She also knew that Attwood had been caught in their web just like her. He was as dead as everyone else they came across.

“What do you think, Attwood? Think I should let this bitch go?”

Charlie heard the zombie moan, and then Conan punched her again. He caught her full in the face, and she went down clutching her head. Everything was spinning, and she was sure her nose was broken. The bone felt like it was shattered, and she wanted to close her eyes as the pain spread around her body. She couldn’t fight him. She couldn’t do it. She touched the silver pendant around her neck and let the blood spill from her mouth. He was going to kill her, and she couldn’t stop it. She felt Conan’s huge arms lift her to her feet again, and through swollen eyes, she looked at him.

“Still standing, huh?” asked Conan. “Impressive.”

Charlie spat and felt one of her teeth come loose with her tongue. She sucked and spat it out along with a mouthful of warm blood. “I’ll never give up,” she said quietly.

“Is that so? You hear that Attwood? We got ourselves a fighter. Well, I don’t quit either. I’ve never shied away from a fight, and I’m not starting now. I could just shoot you but why spoil a good thing? I think a good old fashioned fist fight is what we both want, right?”

Conan let go of Charlie and aimed his fist. The punch landed on her jaw, and yet again Charlie fell to the ground. Conan laughed and stood over her. “Come on. Get up. Get to your feet, and show me you’re a fighter.”

Charlie’s head was full of concrete, her thoughts like cold soup. The gun was useless. Attwood was dead. She wanted to go home. She had taken too much for granted. She had taken her life for granted and thought she could defeat them all on her own, but she was wrong. She wanted to get vengeance for her father, but as she cradled her aching body on the soft wet ground she knew she had failed. The rain had petered out to nothing, and she was going to die alone.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Charlie whimpered. Her body felt light and she waited for Conan to lift her to her feet just so that he could strike her again. He wouldn’t stop. He enjoyed it. He would keep going until he had beaten her senseless, and then he would keep going until she was just mulch for the roses. Charlie rolled onto her back and looked up at Conan. The crucified body of Attwood loomed over them both, and as Charlie looked up at Conan she began to laugh.

Conan clenched his hands into fists. “What? You think dying is funny?”

“No.” Charlie coughed and winced, wishing she had more painkillers on her. Kyler hadn’t told her how painful fighting could be. “I’m just looking forward to seeing the shock on your face when I kill you.”

“I don’t think so.” Conan bent over Charlie. “I was going to save you for Butcher, but I think I’ll just kill you now.”

CHAPTER 15

When Rilla plunged the knife into Conan’s neck it took a moment for the realization he’s been struck to sink it. His expression turned from anger to curiosity, and as he was about to hit Charlie he faltered. He put a hand to his neck and touched Kyler’s fishing knife. The three-inch blade had penetrated his throat and only the very hilt remained exposed. Conan stumbled back, copious blood pouring from his open wound like an exposed oil well.

“What the fuck?”

Rilla picked up the discarded cooler and swung it round to smash Conan in the face. He finally went down in a heap at the base of the crucifix, and Rilla dropped the cooler to turn to Charlie.

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked, helping Charlie to her feet.

Charlie swayed as she stood and put her weight on Rilla who slipped an arm around her waist. “I will be.” It hurt to think let alone speak. She didn’t know what a broken jaw felt like, but Conan had done his best to give her one. Her left eye had swollen shut, and her mouth kept filling with blood from where Conan had knocked her teeth out. “You should be in the car. I told you to wait.”

“I might not be where you are, but I’m getting there. My parents made me strong, much stronger than what you’ve seen from me so far. I wasn’t about to let you do this on your own.”

“Thanks,” whispered Charlie. She looked at Conan. He was injured, but he was far from dead. She had nothing left to kill him with except her bare hands. She could try to snap his neck, but she was shattered. The beating he had given her on top of the dog attack had left her weak, and she wasn’t sure she had it in her.

“We can’t leave him like this,” said Rilla, as if reading Charlie’s mind.

“No, we can’t.” Charlie took a whistle out from her pocket, one she hadn’t used since her high-school netball days. “I’ve got a plan.”

Charlie blew loudly on the whistle sending a shrieking noise through the quiet air. When she stopped, Rilla looked at her with amazement.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Trust me,” said Charlie. She spotted her fishing cap on the ground and picked it up. There was blood on it, but she didn’t care and placed it on her head. “Get me back to the sedan and just trust me. I’ve got an idea.”

“What about the gun?” asked Rilla. She looked at Conan. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Leave it. We don’t need it.”

It only took a minute for them to reach the sedan, and Rilla helped Charlie into the front seat. As they sat in the comfort of the luxury car, Rilla turned to Charlie. “So what are we waiting for?”

Charlie peered through the windshield. It should be any moment now. Her breath was starting to fog up the glass and she wiped her hand through the mist. In the gloom outside she saw movement, a lone figure stumbling through the garden in the direction of the crucifix. Charlie smiled. “That,” said Charlie, pointing out Tad to Rilla.

They watched as the resurrected body of Tad stumbled past them oblivious to their presence. Rilla could see the mottled bruised skin around his neck and the distended tongue that hung from his open mouth. His eyes were pure white, and as he walked into the rose garden, Rilla turned to Charlie.

“I took care of him.” Charlie answered, without waiting for the question. “And now he’s going to take care of Conan.”

A few seconds later, with Tad out of sight, they heard the screams begin. They came from the darkness and echoed off the moon and stars. There was no mistake. Tad had found the weakened Conan. Charlie didn’t need to see him rip out the big man’s throat. She didn’t need to see Tad tear chunks of his flesh out, or to see Conan beg for his life as Tad tore him open. She knew he was dead. There was a certain poetry and satisfaction in knowing that Conan had been killed by one of
them
. The huge walls they lived behind hadn’t protected them as they thought, and now they would both become zombies. Even the old woman, if her brain hadn’t been destroyed, would probably return. They would all turn into the things they most hated. Eventually they would be the ones on the other side of the wall, forced to try to navigate a dangerous world and find others. They would join them on the other side of the wall, and this place would become a safe shelter once more. The only potential problem now was Butcher.

“Rilla, that whistle and all the noise we made will have brought a lot more of the dead to this place,” said Charlie. Her head was pounding. “You know, I bet they’re piled up outside just begging to get in.”

“I know. How are we going to get rid of them? What do we do now?” asked Rilla. “I just want this over, Charlie. I just want this to be all over. How do we get out of here with those corpses at the door?”

“We’re not leaving,” replied Charlie. “I want the zombies to come. I
want
them here.”

“Are you insane? What about Butcher? What about this place? You saw what they did to Attwood. We can’t stay here now.”

Charlie tensed up as pain racked her body. She sucked in a breath and let it go slowly. For a moment she thought she might pass out, but she couldn’t stop now. Kyler had taught her that once you started something you finished it. She wanted to sleep, but there was still something she had to do. “Look in that knapsack will you, please? There are some painkillers.”

Rilla found a bottle of white tablets and poured some into her hand. She took three and handed them to Charlie.

After she had swallowed the pills, Charlie took Rilla’s hand. “When this is done I’m probably going to crash. I need to know you can handle this, Rilla. When Butcher is gone I’ll try to help you clean this place up. Those two in the rose garden and maybe that woman in the house will need dealing with. You need to put them down, you understand? The ones outside these walls won’t get in. If we can make it through tonight, then we can do it, Rilla. We can turn this place into the sanctuary that it’s supposed to be.”

Rilla leant over to Charlie and pulled her close. Hiding in the sedan earlier she had been scared. She had been scared for herself and for Charlie, but now that they were together again she felt stronger. There was something about being with Charlie that made her feel confident. Charlie had been through the wars, and Rilla could see the tiredness etched all over her young face. Her short blonde hair was covered in blood and dirt, and the stitched holding her cheek together had come loose. There didn’t seem to be much choice but to follow through with whatever plan Charlie had and finish this. After what Butcher had done to her, Rilla wanted to do it. If Charlie believed in it, then so did she. Rilla tucked a lock of blonde hair behind Charlie’s ear and smiled. Later, when all this was over, she would have to tend to Charlie’s wounds. She was bruised and bleeding all over, and it would be a long time before she was ready to fight again. If what she said was true, then maybe they wouldn’t have to fight again. Maybe they could turn this place around. Attwood certainly had no claims on it anymore. Rilla saw no reason why they couldn’t work together and make a go of it.

“Okay. What do I do? And
don’t
tell me to wait here.”

Charlie smiled back, proud of Rilla and pleased she had come back. There was something growing between them that she hadn’t felt for anyone for a long time. Since her mother had died, Charlie had felt very alone in the world, but since Rilla had burst into her life she had found something to fight for. This wasn’t just about vengeance anymore. Their own futures were on the line, and they were inexplicably bound together now no matter what happened.

“Follow me.”

* * *

Butcher stared at the video screen blankly. The road outside Attwood’s was quiet. A few zombies occasionally passed by, but from the viewpoint of the camera above the annex door, there was little to arouse his interest. He would ask Conan to keep watch for a while and go see if Rilla was ready. After eating he had been watching the monitor on his own, but the security room was far from the action and he was bored. He tapped the tip of a large knife on the wooden desk and then frowned. Was that a burning smell?

“Verity, you cooking again?”

Butcher left the security room and its black and white TV screens, and made his way through the house to the stairway. The burning smell grew stronger as he got closer to the front door, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs he realized the smell wasn’t coming from the kitchen but upstairs.

“Conan? That you? What are you doing?”

Butcher shook his head and sighed as he ascended the stairs. “Do I have to do everything myself? Jesus, they’d burn the place down if they didn’t have me to keep a watch on them.”

Up on the second floor the smell of burning was stronger, and Butcher knew the only people up here were Rilla and his mother.

“Christ, what are you doing in there?” Butcher angrily marched down to the bedroom. There were no fireplaces up here which only meant someone had been lazy or stupid or both. Verity liked to smoke, but she was supposed to go outside. Butcher hated the smell of it.

“Mom, if you’re going to burn the house down with one of your fucking cigarettes, then you can—”

As Butcher threw back the door, he was surprised to find the room empty. The bed was a mess, and there was blood on the white sheets. Grey smoke drifted lazily through the air, and Butcher noticed the ironing board at the foot of the bed had collapsed. A pair of feet stuck out by the end of the bed, motionless.

“Shit.” Butcher dropped the knife and approached the body carefully. He knew from the sloppy clothes that it wasn’t Rilla, and while the face had been burned beyond recognition, he knew who it was. There was an iron embedded in his mother’s face, and Butcher howled. He lifted the iron off his mother’s dead body and pulled clumps of singed hair and skin with it. There would be no open casket for what was left of Verity.

“I’m going to kill that fucking bitch.” Butcher wouldn’t cry for his mother yet. He wanted revenge. He wanted to know how Rilla had managed to get away and do this. Where were the others? Why had nobody else come?

As Butcher ran back down the smoking corridor, he began to shout. “Conan. Tad? Get your fucking asses out here, now!”

Back at the front door Butcher waited, but neither Tad nor Conan appeared. There was a long whistling sound as if someone was about to kick off a soccer game in the rose garden. “What the fuck is going on?”

Butcher raced to the kitchen but found only a neatly piled stack of dishes and no Conan. “Guess it’s up to me then.” Pulling a meat cleaver out from one of the kitchen drawers, Butcher ran to the dining room. “Conan, you in here?”

The house was silent. For the first time since taking over Attwood’s, Butcher felt unnerved. There was something off. He was angry and knew that Rilla had done something. Perhaps Conan had already found her and was teaching her a lesson. But there was something more going on that he couldn’t see or understand yet. Butcher returned to the front door and opened it slowly. When he looked outside he saw nothing unusual. It was dark, and the rain had brought the fresh smell of the garden to his nose. He heard the faint groans from Attwood. The vehicles were parked up where they had been left, so he knew that Rilla hadn’t tried to smash her way out.

Stepping out of the house, Butcher didn’t know where to turn next. Rilla could be hiding anywhere. Conan was probably out looking for her which only left Tad. Was he still cleaning up the zombies in the annex? He could use an extra pair of eyes in his search for Rilla, and Butcher headed toward the entrance of the property.

A groaning sound came from behind the pickup truck, and Butcher looked over his shoulder. A bulky shape emerged from the darkness.

“Conan? Where the fuck have you been? Rilla’s killed Verity and taken off. I’m just going to get Tad now. You need to get your shit together and—”

Butcher stopped. There was something about the way Conan moved unsteadily and the way his eyes appeared to be glazed over that made Butcher aware something had gone horribly wrong.

“Conan?”

The man bumped against the truck and then headed for Butcher. His stiff limbs made him walk awkwardly, and Butcher could tell he was dead. Another figure emerged from behind Conan, and Butcher saw his dead brother.

“No.” It came out as a whisper, a denial of what he was seeing. “No,” said Butcher again, as shivers ran up and down his spine. “She can’t have done all of this.”

Butcher retreated away from the advancing zombies, unable to look anymore at the corpses of Tad and Conan as they walked toward him with their arms outstretched. His head was spinning. How had Rilla done this? Had he underestimated her? Had she been fooling him all along? He had made a mistake in letting her in He should’ve kept the door locked.

As Butcher wheeled around he saw light coming from the annex. Somebody was in there. It had to be Rilla. There was nobody else left to operate the controls. She was trying to escape, but if she opened that front door then she would let
them
in. Butcher began to run toward the annex and saw that the door was open. A figure stood in the middle of the room, the single light bulb illuminating her.

“Rilla!” Butcher saw a flash of green as she darted out of sight. It
was
her. As soon as he caught up with her he would gut her and let Tad eat her alive. He was going to enjoy watching her die. “Rilla, wait there. You can’t run from me.”