Devouring The Dead (Book 1) (25 page)

“Sure.
Just head out back and up the stairs. Be quiet though, we don’t want any uninvited guests gate-crashing our party.”

Benz
o walked off leaving the others to prepare. Jessica and Rosa began searching for anything they could use as weapons. Christina filled Caterina in with the plan for the next day and Jackson strolled over to Reggie to check on him.

* * * *

“Benzo!” Tom was surprised when the door opened. He had been expecting Jackson, if anyone, to come back up. “Good to see you, mate.”

They
embraced and Benzo took in the scene. The fires above the rooftops mingled with the dying embers of the sunlight and the city was bathed in orange.

“Anything to report?”
Benzo asked Tom.

“Not much. Nothing else has come this way. I haven’t seen anything; no planes, no
helicopters, no cars, nothing - just the dead.”

“Can’t see much,” said
Benzo looking over the parapet. “Are there many of them down there?”

“Not too many. The few that followed us from the park and a few more that were drawn by the crash. They’re all gathered by the main doors
or the bus though. There are some in the church grounds dotted around, but nothing major. Nothing like before.”

“Well that’s something I suppose.”

“Benzo I was meaning to ask you. On the bus, did you see Angel? Was she..?”

“She didn’t make it
, mate. Look, what’s done is done, we need to forget about it and focus on tomorrow. I’m kind of looking forward to it in a way.”

“Oh
, yeah?” asked Tom.

“Well, just getting out of here. I’m sick of living on scraps. I’m sick of stinking and wearing these dirty clothes I’ve been wearing for the last three days. I just want to sleep in a bed. I’m sick of not being in control of my own life. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do. These clothes could walk around on their own.”

“You are pretty ripe
, mate.”

Tom laughed
, but Benzo could tell it was out of politeness. “Tom, there’s water downstairs, you need to relax. It’s safe here, okay? It’s safe. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I guess
. It’s just hard to switch off. If Rosa hadn’t rescued us, then her friends would still be alive and I keep thinking...”

“That’s your problem
, Tom, you keep thinking! Listen, everything is taken care of. Tomorrow, we’re going to get to the airport, the girls are gathering weapons and there’s nothing else to do, so stop beating yourself up. You’re not responsible for us. Shit, a few days ago, you didn’t even know us.”

“I could do with some water
. I’m parched. Maybe I’ll go down for a bit.” Tom rubbed his eyes. He was sure that if he put his head down, he would sleep like a rock.

“I’ll stay up here until it’s too dark to see anything and then I’ll come down. There’s not much point being up here if we can’t see anything anyway,” said
Benzo.

Tom walked toward the door. “Don’t stay too long
, mate. Say, you said the girls were getting weapons?”

“Yeah
, Jessica, and Rosa, the new chick.”

“Did they say anything about me?” asked Tom.

“Like what?”

“Oh
, I don’t know, I just wondered if Jessica had said, like, um...”

“Oh
, I see,” said Benzo. “Yeah, man, I get it. She’s cute. Look, she hasn’t said anything about you to me. Sorry to disappoint you.”

 
“It’s nothing,” said Tom, thankful the dark was hiding his blushing cheeks. “See you soon, mate.”

Tom went into the stairwell closing the door behind him.

* * * *

“Feel this,” said
Jessica, handing Rosa a golden candelabra. Its base was so thick Rosa struggled to hold it in her hands. She admired the ornate carvings that had been etched into it from the base to the tip.

“You could do some damage with this,” said Rosa handing it back to Jessica.

“I intend to.” Jessica kept hold of it as they continued walking around the western side of the church. The stained glass windows were dark now and the church was mostly lit from the candles burning near the nave. Rosa took a cross down from the wall.

“No good,” said Jessica.

“Why not?”

“It’s too small. By the time you’ve stuck someone with it
, they’ll be all over you. No, put it back, we’ll find something bigger and better.”

Rosa replaced the cross on the wall carefully. “Well
, they do say that bigger is better.”

Jessica looked
curiously at Rosa but couldn’t see her expression in the dim light. “Some do.”

“You believe in all this?” asked Rosa as they came across another painting. There were angels surrounding a baby in a crib. Tumultuous clouds blossomed in the sky and the sleeping child was bathed in a light from above
, so bright it was almost white.

“No.
You?”

“Nah, my mum and dad do. Did. Not me though, always seemed a bit like fantasy to me.”

“It’s the rules I couldn’t abide. You shouldn’t live your life by a doctrine, especially a man made one. I don’t just mean Christianity, but all of them. They’re just invented by humans to control us if you ask me.”

Suddenly Jessica realised Rosa was weeping. “Hey
, what’s wrong?” Jessica embraced her.

“I’m
sorry, it’s just the whole church thing. It reminds me of my parents. I began thinking about how they must’ve died. How my dad probably died trying to protect my mum. He would do anything for her.”

Jessica took hold of Rosa by the shoulders. “Well
, stop. Thinking like that won’t help you.”

Jessica rummaged in her pockets for a tissue but found none. She pulled her sleeve down and used the end to wipe Rosa’s tears.

“I don’t know how you stay so...
together
,” said Rosa as they embraced once more. Jessica held onto her. She hadn’t realised how much she craved physical touch, the reassurance of another human being, the compassion and empathy borne out of being so close to another person.

“I have to,” Jessica whispered in Rosa’s ear. They drew apart slowly
, and Jessica let her hair brush Rosa’s cheek. She felt Rosa’s hand caress the back of her neck and Jessica didn’t want to let go. It had been so long.

In the flickering candlelight
, Jessica kissed Rosa on the cheek. She drew breath and kissed her on the lips, at first gently, then more passionately. Jessica pulled Rosa toward her, feeling Rosa’s slender frame pressed against hers. At first, Rosa reciprocated the kiss, sweet, yet salty, tainted by her tears. When Jessica began kissing her more insistently, she pushed her away.

   “No,
no, it’s not right,” Rosa said.

   “I’m sorry,” said Jessica.
Shadows danced across her frowning face and she thought of Brie. What was she doing? “You’re right, I was just...I thought...”

   “You thought wrong. I was just caught up in the moment.
You shouldn’t take advantage of me,” Rosa turned away to face the three angels.

Jessica’s heart was racing. “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.
I didn’t mean anything. I should check on Reggie anyway.”

Rosa heard Jessica walk away. She clutched the bible she was carrying to her chest. Thoughts raced through her mind blocking out reality
, until she heard Jessica call out.

“Rosa, I’m sorry
, but can you come here. I can’t find Reggie.”

* * * *

Reggie had been lying on the cushions near the altar, sleeping, until Jackson had knelt down beside him. Reggie’s face was cut badly and the wounds were not healing. Blood still seeped from the gashes on his forehead and cheeks. Jackson put his fingers to Reggie’s neck; his pulse was fine.

“Reggie.” Jackson gently shook him but he didn’t wake. Jackson frowned. Maybe Reggie had been hurt in the crash worse than he had let on.

“Reggie, mate, wake up,” he said shaking him rougher. Reggie could not be woken and as Jackson shook him, he rolled over, his shirt opening at the neck exposing his neck. Jackson saw the white fungal growth on Reggie’s chest that was spreading up his neck and recoiled.

“How the hell..?”
Then Jackson remembered the bird. They had been attacked when they’d left the conference centre and Jackson had been persuaded it was nothing. Reggie had convinced him it was just scared. It wasn’t. The pigeon had been infected, just like the rat that had bitten Freddy.

Jackson took a step back. If he told the others
, they would panic. They needed the rest and the sanctuary the church offered, at least for tonight. But if he did nothing, how long would it be before Reggie turned? He couldn’t risk that. He looked around the church and caught Jessica’s eye. She gave him a wave and a smile and he smiled back. She and Rosa were stood by a huge painting and Jessica was clutching a huge candelabra.

Jackson decided he w
ould move Reggie to the kitchen. If he dragged him in there quietly, he could barricade the door. If he turned in the night, he would hear nothing and hopefully stay quiet. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t turn for a while and they could escape safely.

Making sure nobody was watching, Jackson took hold of Reggie’s arms and slowly pulled him off the cushions onto the hard stone floor. Bending low
, he dragged the unconscious Reggie into the storeroom. Once he had gotten him over the threshold, he closed the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. He had gotten Reggie out unnoticed. It would be easier to explain to the others what was going on without Reggie being there. His presence would be unwelcome now. Any infection would be very unwelcome when they thought they had finally found a place to rest.

Jackson opened the door to the kitchen
. It was dark in there now, the faint sunlight unable to penetrate through the curtains. A figure was slumped, resting against the cupboards, a gun in its hands.

   “Hey, buddy,” said the figure
, raising the gun and pointing it straight at Jackson. A shiver ran down Jackson’s spine and he froze.

   “Brad?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jessica jumped, startled as the vestry door burst open and Jackson walked through with his hands on his head.

“Shit you made me jump, Jackson. Hey is Reggie with you? I was...”

Jessica stopped as Jackson said nothing and was followed out of the doorway by a man holding a gun to Jackson’s head. Jessica’s jaw dropped open as she recognised Brad.

“Holy shit.”
She put her hand to her mouth. Brad’s hair was matted with blood and he was caked with dirt. He grinned as he pushed Jackson forward.

“Jessica, good to see you,
I thought my fucking days were over. Man, I am glad to see you.”

He waved the gun at her and motioned for her to sit. She sat on the nearest pew and Jackson sat down beside her. He dropped his hands to his lap.

“Tut, tut, Jackson. Back on your head, please, where I can see ‘em. You too, Jess.”

“What the hell is going on, Brad?”
She stood up to confront him and he slapped her.

“Sit the fuck down, bitch! Hands on your head! I won’t tell you again.”

    She retook her seat with the sting of Brad’s hand still fresh on her cheek.

“You, out of the shadows.
Get over here.” Brad was pointing the gun at Rosa who stepped out from behind a column. She obeyed the stranger and sat next to Jessica. She followed suit and put her hands on her head. Rosa looked at Jessica questioningly, but Jessica just shook her head.

“Christina, Cat, don’t think I can’t see you back there. Move it up here, now.”

Christina stepped into the aisle. “Brad, whatever you’re doing, you don’t need to do this. We thought you were dead.”

Brad sighed. “Bitch
, I don’t give a fuck what you think or what you thought. You and Cat get up here now, or I’ll shoot you in the face. Understand? It really makes no difference to me whether you’re alive or dead. I
would
prefer to save the ammo if possible though.”

“Come on
, Cat, it’ll be okay.” Christina and Caterina slowly walked to the front of the church and sat opposite the others. Brad stood in the middle as if facing the congregation.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...hang on, we’re missing one at least. Where’s Tommy boy?”

The door creaked behind him and Brad whirled around. Tom strode into the church, surprised to see everyone sat on the front row with their hands on their heads. He was even more surprised to see Brad holding a gun over them.

“Hi
, buddy, perfect timing, take a seat would you?”

Tom was so shocked he didn’t move. Brad had died in the bus. He had been at the front with Don. This couldn’t be him
.

The figure that looked and sounded
so remarkably like Brad, walked over to Tom and he brought the butt of the gun down on Tom’s face, smashing his nose. Tom fell to the floor, blood gushing out over the stone floor.

“Stop it!” screamed Jessica. Jackson stood up.

Brad kept the gun trained on them whilst he dragged Tom over to the altar.

“I swear
, Jackson, you make one more move, I will put a fucking bullet in your brain.”

Brad dropped Tom who rolled over onto his stomach. He cradled his face in his hands, blood
pouring from his broken nose.

“Anyone else here
, or is this it? Benzo? That old hag? That fucking moron bus driver? Anyone?”

“No,” said Christina solemnly. “No one else made it. We’re all that’s left. Brad, we thought you were dead, I don’t understand.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not dead yet. No thanks to you. Sincerely, I would like to thank every last one of you motherfuckers for leaving me for dead. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have this gun and I wouldn’t be in charge. So thank you.”

“Brad? Is that you?” Tom grunted and got to his knees. He had managed to stem the bleeding from his nose
, but he looked a mess. His shirt was covered in blood.

“Tom, buddy, you are a little slow on the uptake today. Yes, it’s me, your old friend
, Brad. The one who saved your pathetic life, remember? And how did you repay me? You picked a fight with me back at the conference centre and then you leave me to die in that God damn bus. Wow, good thing you’re not my enemy, eh, Tom?”

Brad kicked Tom in the g
roin and Tom shouted out in pain. He curled up on the floor as Brad kicked him again and again in the stomach, the ribs, anywhere he could.

“Brad, please, stop it!” Jessica pleaded with him to stop
, but Brad ignored her. He ignored their cries, relishing in Tom’s pain. Finally, he stopped. He hauled Tom up onto his knees and Tom stayed there dazed, his face bruised, his mouth bleeding and his eyes swelling.

“Now
, if you’ll just stay on your knees like that, that would help me out a lot.”

Brad walked around so Tom was facing away from him and he put the gun against Tom’s head.
He cocked the trigger and braced his feet on the floor, ready to execute Tom.

Jackson stood up again. “If you pull that trigger
, Brad, you’re a dead man.”

“Really?
Who’s going to stop me from doing whatever the hell I want now? You, old man?”

“
And me,” said Christina standing.

“
Me too, Brad. You’re pathetic.” Caterina took Christina’s hand and stood. Finally, Jessica stood too and took Rosa’s hand. Together they stood beside Jackson.

“Us too,” said Jessica. “How many bullets you got in that gun, Brad?
Enough for everyone?”

Brad
hesitated and looked at Jessica. She stared back at him. He was used to women being submissive to him, but Jessica was different, stronger; Christina too. He could see they weren’t afraid of him. How strange, he thought; unarmed, women were always intimidated by him, yet, here he was waving a gun around and suddenly they weren’t afraid of him anymore.

He un-cocked the gun, flipped it around, and smashed the butt against the back of Tom’s head, knocking him out cold. Tom fell to the floor unconscious.

“Ah, I was just kidding,” said Brad. “I wouldn’t waste a bullet on Tom. Now sit down, my dears, because I do have six locked and loaded and I
will
use them if I have to.”

Reluctantly
, they sat down. Brad waited for them to be seated and told them to put their hands back on their heads.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me. We tried to help you.” said Rosa.

“Help me? That faggot driving the bus was a maniac. It’s his damn fault we crashed. Yeah, you were a great help.”

“Save your breath
, dear, he’s not on the same page as us. Hell, he’s not even reading the same book,” said Christina.

Brad picked up a bible as he paced the floor. “If this is what you’re reading
, then damn straight we’re not on the same page.”

He took the bible to one of the candles and held it over the flame before the pages began to singe. As the fire swept through the book
, he dropped it and let it burn.

“You’re right though, I don’t know you. What was your name again?”

“Rosa.” As she spoke she slipped her hand into Jessica’s. Their fingers entwined and Rosa felt reassured by the strong grip on her hand.

“Rosa. Nice name. You remind me of someone I used to know
with that blonde hair of yours. She was a sweet girl too. Amber.”

Jessica squeezed Rosa’s hand tighter.

“Brad you can’t do this,” said Jackson.

“Oh
, pipe down, I ain’t doing anything. She’ll keep for later, pops.” Brad blew a kiss at Rosa who turned her face away from him. Jessica stared at Brad, wishing he were dead.

“No, this is the part where I tell you how it is. Think of me as a villain in a James Bond movie. I am your
Scaramanga - although sadly, my gun isn’t golden. So anyway, this is where I tell you my evil plan and you listen. Unlike those stupid movies though, the baddie does not die at the end after revealing his plans to the hero.”

Brad looked at Tom, still unconscious on the floor and
cackled. Jackson cast a furtive glance at Christina. They both knew that Benzo was still up in the steeple and instinctively they knew what the other was thinking. If they kept Brad talking long enough, maybe Benzo would realise something was wrong. It was their only opportunity; they
had
to buy Benzo some time.

“How did you get out
, Brad?” asked Christina.

“Weren’t you buried beneath
the bus, beneath the rubble?” asked Jackson.

“How’d you get that gun?” asked Christina.

Brad continued pacing up and down in front of the altar, rubbing his temples, restless.

“One thing at a time
. Jesus Christ. You fuckers can be really irritating you know that?”

They waited, sensing Brad wanted to speak, to tell his story.

“When I came to, I thought I was dead. I mean I actually thought I was dead, literally. It was pitch black, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t hear anything. It was like being back in the womb, man. After a few minutes, I guess my senses got attuned and I figured it out.

“When we’d crashed
, I was thrown back into the doors. I remember hitting them hard and falling into the footwell. I can remember seeing Don flying through the windscreen and I thought my number was up. The doors must’ve buckled, as when I woke up, I was under the bus. I was wedged under the doors, a pile of bricks by my head and a ten tonne fucking bus above me.”

Brad continued pacing back and forth, from one side of the church to the other, all the time waving the gun around.

“There must’ve been an inch between me and that thing above me, so I had to crawl out. It took me a while, but finally I threw some stones and bricks aside and I was free. None of you fuckers were around, but I didn’t expect you to be quite frankly. I had barely hauled my ass outta there when something grabbed me. It was some diseased old woman; fleshy hands all over me, trying to frigging eat me. Her face was just, like, covered in blisters and shit. It looked like someone had thrown acid over her.

“I pushed her off, grabbed a brick, and pounded her fucking skull in until she stopped moving. Next second though
, they were all around me. I couldn’t see clearly, but there were shapes moving in the dark; vague things, dead things, just shifting and moaning and coming toward me. One of them reached for me as I tried to run, and it turned out to be a soldier.

“He was stronger than the woman
, but not strong enough. I pulled this gun out of his belt and battered his face to a mushy pulp. I just ran blind and found the door back there. Fate must’ve been on my side. I didn’t know you lot would be here, that was just a bonus. I’d only been in there a few minutes when I saw Jackson walk in on me. I was as shocked as you were.”

“So did those things follow you here?” said Jackson. If they had
, then they were in a fix; both exits would be swarming with zombies.

“How the fuck should I know, buddy
? I didn’t stop to ask directions. Yeah, probably they did. Whatever, that’s irrelevant right now.”

“Brad, that’s our way out of here,” said Jackson. “We can’t get out past the main doors, the kitchen is our exit.”

“What’s all this talk of ‘our’?” said Brad. “Stop interrupting me, Jackson, I hadn’t finished.”

“So what’s your plan
, Brad?” said Christina. “I can understand that you’re pissed, but if you think logically, we can help each other out here. This situation doesn’t have to get any worse than it already is. We didn’t leave you behind intentionally - we thought you had died with Don and Angel in the bus.

“Look, we’re going to stay here tonight. Rest up, get going tomorrow. We’re going to the airport and...”

“Christina, you might have been the boss back in the city, doing whatever it is rich snobs do, making your millions, but you’re not boss anymore. See this? This is a gun, and that puts me in charge. So stop fucking talking!”

Brad strode over to her and put the gun to her head. She looked at him as
he pointed the barrel at her forehead.

“Cat, take your socks off,” he said
, fuming, not taking his eyes off Christina’s.

Confused
, Caterina slipped off her shoes and rolled down her white socks. Shivers spread all over her body as her bare feet touched the stone cold floor.

“Shove them in her mouth. If she speaks one more word
, you’re going to be scooping up bits of her brain for weeks.”

Caterina
gritted her teeth and balled up her socks.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Christina. She slowly pushed the soiled socks into Christina’s mouth. Brad sneered as Christina gagged.

“Guess they’re not the freshest, eh, buddy? Sit down, Cat, and stop...” He was about to tell her to stop crying when he noticed she wasn’t. She was looking at him defiantly. She had obviously been learning a thing or two from her mentor.