DEAD: Snapshot (Book 2): Leeds, England Read online

  She suddenly found herself wondering how Simon and his group were faring. Had they managed to escape the city? Certainly it was not likely that they had some sort of watercraft made available. With what she had seen, it was quite possible that they never even made it out alive.

  She was surprised to discover that that thought made her just a bit sad. Of course she would be fine if Cedric had been eaten by the zombies, but Mrs. Raye, Simon, and that little girl were not completely deserving of such a thing.

  Not completely.

  They had abandoned her. Even worse, they had taken up with one of the animals responsible for her sister’s death. They could say what they like about how he had not been present, but she didn’t care what excuses they provided him or that he made.

  She stopped and realized that she was now standing in front of a Jet petrol station. What surprised her was that, up to this point, she had not encountered any of the walking dead. She was about to investigate whether there might be any snacks remaining inside when one of those terrible screams began.

  It definitely sounded like it belonged to a female judging by the pitch. Pulling the scimitar free from its scabbard, she broke into a jog and followed the road to the right as it branched off and headed into some sort of business park. A second scream joined the first which was now beginning to die. This one was quite possibly male, but young.

  It was at this point that she started to run. The screams were increasing, and now she was certain that she heard more voices; these sounded as if they might be begging. At last she reached a sign at the entrance to some sort of inn. The sign read: The Thorpe Park Hotel & Spa.

  The entrance to the complex was where at least a hundred of the undead were gathered. All of them were reaching skyward. At the rails of some sort of walkway were several figures. Currently, two of them were grappling with a young boy of twelve or so while the sea of undead arms that waved, clutched and writhed below in a vain attempt to reach the melee that was taking place about ten feet above them.

  Shadiyah counted five individuals that looked to be causing the trouble. Two were fighting with the young man by the rail while lashing out a knife; another two had women clutched to them and looked to be forcing them to watch what was going on, and one was leaning over the rail having what sounded like a good laugh.

  “Well, well…what do we have here?” a voice crooned from behind her.

  ***

  Flat, grass fields stretched out on both sides of what Simon told them was Church Lane. Mrs. Raye and Annie stuck to the center line while Simon and Cedric waded out into the grass and dispatched the single and small groups of zombies that were shambling through those open fields. The outskirts of Micklefield could now be seen and everybody began to unconsciously pick up their tempo. Simon was the first to pretty much clear his side of any nearby walking dead and hurried over to help Cedric with the last few to their right.

  He was almost to the man when something caught his foot sending him sprawling on his face. He heard the shouts from Mrs. Raye asking if he was okay, but he had landed wrong and the handle of his mace caught him in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from him in a painful rush.

  Flat on his face, he struggled and could not even find the strength to roll over; even worse, he could not seem to be able to breathe at all. That terrifying sensation was almost as paralyzing as the sight that filled his vision when he managed to turn his head. Just a few inches away, the undead visage of a zombie was opening its mouth wide, craning its neck forward so that it could reach him and take a bite out of his face.

  He wanted to scream…call for help…anything. Sadly, with the wind knocked from him, he would be able to do nothing except prepare for the terrible pain that was about to eclipse what he was already feeling. He did the only thing he could think of as the face drew near; Simon closed his eyes and waited.

  There was a strange sound that reminded Simon of a melon being cleaved in two despite him never actually having heard such a sound before. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and yank him over onto his back.

  “Hey, copper, you gonna just lay there?”

  Simon opened his eyes to see Cedric staring down at him with a wicked grin on his face. He opened his mouth to express his thanks and nothing more than a pathetic squeak managed to make its way out.

  “Had the wind knocked from ya,” the man tisked and clucked his tongue. “Not a very good feeling, yeah? Had that happen a few times as a hooker for the local rugby team. Let me tell ya, when one of them fatties gives you the business, you bloody well know it.”

  “Is he okay?” Mrs. Raye’s voice called out.

  “Yeah, just had the wind taken out of his sails,” Cedric called back, reaching a hand down to Simon.

  Try as he might, Simon could not get to his feet just yet. It took him a while; so long, in fact, that Cedric had to venture out and take down a few more zombies that were closing the distance and would become a problem if not dealt with immediately.

  When he was finally able to stand, he was still bent a bit at the waist and Annie moved over to take his hand. “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes squinting as she leaned in for a closer look.

  Simon felt his already struggling lungs get even tighter. The way Annie was staring made him remember his bite with a sudden shock. Even worse, he had lost his sunglasses in the fall. Was this it? If it was, he could at least rest in the fact that he had gotten his group here to Micklefield. Of course they still had no idea if they were in any better conditions than back in the city.

  “You don’t look very good,” Annie said, patting Simon on the cheek.

  “Getting the wind knocked from you is quite unpleasant,” Mrs. Raye offered as she came up to give Simon a look. Simon held his breath as the woman gave him a good once over. At last, she stood up straight and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We can take a minute or two for you to catch your breath, young man, but not too long.” She swept her arm out to the fields and the scattered array of walking dead that were now obviously aware of their presence.

  Simon let out a long sigh of relief. Apparently he was still not displaying the tracers in his eyes. That was a good sign, but how much longer could he hope for his luck to hold out. Sooner or later he would succumb to the bite…right?

  They continued up Church Lane until they came to the stone announcing that they were now in Mickelfield. Just ahead, they could see the small shacks for the Metro stop on either side of the road. Modest brick homes were on each side, but there was something else that had everybody’s attention.

  The first street that branched off to the right was blocked with all manner of vehicles that had been wedged in amongst each other. In addition, the whole mess had been wrapped in barbed wire. There were a few dead bodies scattered about, each having obviously been taken down with severe trauma to the head. Looking further along up the lane, they could see more of the same on the subsequent roads that went to the right. To the left, there was no such thing being done. Many of the houses showed signs of having been hastily abandoned, and that is also where the first zombie came stumbling from.

  The pathetic creature looked to have been an elderly man well into his seventies. He had little more than a fringe of hair remaining as a wreath around his head, and he was so stooped over that it almost seemed impossible that he could see anything in front of him other than his own feet. Yet, after a few unsteady steps, the thing paused, turned towards them, and began its slow shamble their direction.

  Cedric stepped away from the group and began to approach the lone zombie when a voice called out, “Leave him be!”

  Everybody turned towards the sound and saw three figures emerge from a narrow alley branching from what the sign announced as Hallfield Avenue. They were all dressed in heavy denim pants and jackets. Each had goggles and a respiratory mask on as well as snug woolen caps that helped hide their gender, although it was clear that the one who had spoken was a male with his deep, gruff tone.

  “Christ, I hope these lun
atics aren’t trying to save the undead,” Simon whispered.

  “Not at all,” a female voice said from behind the group, causing everybody to spin around suddenly and bring up their weapons out of reflex.

  Annie squeaked and scooted behind Mrs. Raye, her head twisting back and forth between the three people that had first greeted them and this new arrival that was dressed in the same fashion except for her goggles being up on her forehead and her mask hanging at her neck. The woman was holding a bastardized piece of farming equipment that was now a long handled multi-pronged spear with barbed blades on the outer tines.

  “We just choose to ignore them until we have enough worth worrying about. If we took down every walking corpse that came through, we would be hacking and chopping all day and every day.” The woman planted the butt of her weapon on the ground so that it was not pointed at the new arrivals.

  “I am here looking for my cousin,” Simon spoke after a few uneasy seconds where everybody simply seemed to be evaluating each other and assessing for possible weaknesses.

  “You Simon Wood?” one of the trio called. This voice belonged to a woman who sounded like she had been a chain-smoker most of her life.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the vicar’s cousin.” It was not a question. “He will be happy to see you, no doubt.”

  “And me him,” Simon replied.

  “Before we let you in, a few questions,” the man who had first spoken to them said, pulling his own mask down and flipping his goggles up. That seemed to be a sign for the rest, because the other two followed suit.

  The man was a tall, hefty sort, but not fat. He looked like the type that worked out in the fields, his skin ruddy and creased from the years of exposure. He had a wide, barrel chest and arms that made the sleeves of his denim jacket look almost like blue sausage casings which begged the question as to how well he could actually move around. He had a shock of dark, curly hair twining up from under the edges of his cap and his eyes were dark, but glittered with what might be a bit of humor. Almost as in confirmation, his lips curled in a slight smile that did not look at all out of place on his face.

  “Before we do all that, could we perhaps do each other the courtesy of exchanging names?” Mrs. Raye asked primly. “My name is Henrietta Raye. You obviously already know Mr. Wood here. This other gent is Cedric Black, and this lass is Annie Sun.”

  The man shot a look to the woman who currently had the group flanked. Simon picked up on the slight gesture and wondered if perhaps this woman might be running things. Whether or not that was the case, she stepped forward and spoke. “My name is Melena Duff.”

  Melena looked to be in her early forties. She had wispy red hair fluttering in the breeze around the fringe of her cap and her eyes were as close to green as a human being could hope to attain naturally. Her skin was milky white and the lilt of an Irish accent was easy for him to discern. She had laugh lines and those were only exaggerated when she flashed a bright smile. He guessed her to be barely a shade less than six feet if she did not perhaps peek just over.

  “Nelson Wilbanks,” the gruff man said after getting an elbow from one of his cohorts.

  “My name is Dawn Spengler,” the petite woman who had given the elbow said as she took a step forward and removed her cap to allow long, blond hair to cascade down past her shoulders.

  She had bright blue eyes that caught the sun and flashed with mischief as she flipped up her goggles and pulled down her mask. Her mouth was just as tiny as she was, which Simon found amusing since her voice was so strong and loud…even a shade deep for a woman; although by no means masculine.

  “Kas Asan,” the third member of the group said.

  Kas was obviously Indian. His black hair and dark skin were the only giveaway though, since his accent was clearly Yorkshire through and through. He was the only one of the three that did not smile during his introduction, that was the first real thing that registered to Simon. Also, the young man—perhaps in his late teens—kept looking past them and up Church Lane in the direction that they had come as if he might be searching for something…

  Or someone more likely, Simon thought.

  “So, introductions are made, mum,” Nelson said. Simon noticed that his gruff tone was quite a bit more deferential as he spoke to the older woman. “Can we ask a few questions now?”

  “By all means,” Mrs. Raye said agreeably.

  “First, we are guessing that you do not number more than we see here?” That received mumbles of confirmation and agreement. “And have you encountered any military units in your travels?”

  Simon shot Mrs. Raye a look and quickly scolded himself when he saw that she had not so much as flinched at the question. He was about to join the chorus of denials when Melena spoke.

  “Were they north of here on the other side of Garforth?” she asked, moving around to be closer to the rest of her people. Her eyes were locked on to Simon and it was obvious that she had seen his look.

  “Yeah, we saw them,” Simon finally said.

  “Were you followed?” Nelson was suddenly back to being gruff and verging on hostile.

  “Not that we are aware.” Simon could not keep his hand from gripping the handle of his mace a bit tighter. He moved just a fraction closer to Annie so that he was in a more direct path should these people decide to charge them.

  “No,” Mrs. Raye said very bluntly. “We were not followed. I don’t believe they were even aware that we passed by. They are making themselves comfortable at a farmhouse just north of the train tracks.”

  Simon shot the woman another look, but she seemed not to notice. Just as well, he was pretty certain that he had a foolish expression on his face.

  How could she be so sure? he wondered. But then again, she had been more than just a little surprising during the past few days.

  If he was impressed by how calm and suddenly in charge Mrs. Raye seemed, he was even more amazed at how these strangers apparently were ready to accept her word as being good enough on the matter. There was a visible degree of relaxing that came over all of these people.

  “I guess our next order of business is really just a technicality,” Melena said with a clap of her hands. “After all, you four have been on the road for a day or two, yeah? So unless you got bit out in the field, in which case we would likely see blood, then I can assume none of you are about to turn any time soon and have not been bitten.”

  “As you said…that would be apparent,” Mrs. Raye replied with an easy laugh.

  “But Simon got the wind knocked from him when he tripped over one of them,” Annie offered, obviously tired of not being involved in the conversation.

  “Tripped over a halvsie,” Cedric chuckled. “Dangerous things, those.”

  “Halvsie?” Nelson grumbled.

  “What do you call the zoms that are missing their lower bits?” Cedric shrugged his shoulders. “One of my mates called one of them things dragging itself down the street a halvsie. Sort of stuck with me after that.”

  “Hmm,” Nelson grunted with a nod of his head. “Halvsie, eh? I like the ring of it. Might catch on with the hunters when I tell ‘em.”

  “Hunters?” Mrs. Raye asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “The teams we send out along our perimeter to check the barricades and take down any of the zeds in the area.”

  Simon was not listening to any of the conversation. His blood had gone cold at the mention of any of them being bitten. He wondered what these people would say or do if he revealed his little secret. Certainly they would not resort to anything sinister, but then again…

  And then he heard something that made him want to turn around and just walk away.

  “You won’t mind if our doctor gives you all a physical…strictly a formality,” Melena said cheerfully as she gestured with an arm that they were to follow her past the barricade.

  8

  Through Jaded Eyes

  Shadiyah stiffened at the sound of the voice behind her. She was instantly
angry with herself for being careless. If she was going to survive, she needed to be on the ball at every instance. She would not be much help to people if she got herself killed the first time out.

  Then the person behind her made his first mistake. He stepped right up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She did not pause more than a second before responding with a quick thrust backwards with her scimitar. She drove the blade past her left hip and felt it resist for just a second before plunging deep into the gut of the voice’s owner.

  Just as quick as possible, she spun, her only real concern being that this person might not be alone. That fear was quickly allayed and she yanked back, jerking her weapon free from the body of the man who still had a shocked look on his face. That expression never changed as she came across and cleaved his head from his shoulders.

  She watched with an amused smile while sidestepping the falling corpse whose hands were making curious swipes up around where the head should be as it took two staggering steps before falling hard to the pavement. She was once again amazed at the sheer volume of blood that pumped from the corpse in a hideous spray that darkened the ground in a fan-like pattern.

  Returning her attention to the inn, she was struck with an idea. She was making things up on the fly, but she was not going to be foolish. Rushing in headlong would only end up with her dying at the hands and mouths of that swarm of undead gathered in front or perhaps being taken down by those evil bastards up on the balcony.

  She followed the trees that bordered the edge of the parking lot until she was around the corner of the inn. Once she felt certain that she was out of sight, she sprinted for the rear of the facility and was only a little amazed to discover no signs of a sentry.

  As she slipped up to the door, she was not surprised to discover it locked, but climbing up onto the gable proved to be a relatively simple task as she pulled herself up onto a brick wall and then onto the slanted roof. From there, she made her way forward. The screams had died down and now there seemed to be mostly a bunch of boisterous laughter and the like. Underneath all that, she could hear what sounded like crying.