Hellspawn (Book 1) (15 page)

John put the drill down, took the hammer, and broke the final block free from the wall. Sam and Braiden had just joined him from the last house that they had been down into after filling the bath and basin. They had heeded Kurt’s advice and did only the task that they had been set, ignoring the temptation to scavenge until they were in greater numbers for safety. None of the houses had been breached so far, which indicated that the dead instinctively went for occupied premises. If they could lay low in the other homes, it may mean a bit of peace from the growing din of the zombies on their ground floor. The final attic was immaculately clean, boarded out completely, and the roof was insulated against the cold. Benches lined the room making it an excellent storage area and workshop. The only thing that concerned John was the fixed ladder that led up to the room. There was no lockable hatch. The owner must have frequented the room daily for various reasons.

“Keep watch, I’ll get a screwdriver,” John told Sam, after inspecting the ladder and finding only four screws held it in place.

Braiden took out his slingshot and put a small ball bearing in the pouch. It was the first John had seen of it, but he would bring it up later. Sam held the sledge hammer at the ready, his skinny arms shaking with the weight, John wasn’t sure if Sam even swung the thing at a zombie, that the hammer wouldn’t drag him straight down the hole, so he hurried. Nothing had appeared in those brief moments, and the house was quiet as he removed each screw, before hefting the wooden ladder up into the attic and out of the way. They would use the lightweight aluminium steps each time they needed to go into the homes, they proved easy and quick to withdraw. Now that the possible danger had passed, John asked Braiden about the slingshot, where he had got it and what else was there.

“There are boxes of steel ball bearings, look.” Braiden had reached into his pocket and pulled free a small handful of shiny balls, about half an inch wide. They were very light and John was dubious about how much damage they would do to a human skull. The sheer velocity would help, but they would have to test it out another time.

“Were there any bigger than that in the boxes?” John asked him.

“Yeah, lots. These are the smallest ones I found,” Braiden answered.

Now they were getting somewhere. With more weight, they may crack the bone and cause brain damage that could stop the things. John made a mental note to try it another day, when they were more settled.

“Ok, let’s finish this last one off and we can have a rest. While I keep watch at the stairs, you can have a good search through their cupboards upstairs.” John knew they were desperate to explore, so why get in the way if it could be done safely.

“Yes!” they exclaimed with excitement.

They lowered the ladder and made their way down. The upstairs was decorated with garish flower patterned wallpaper and lime green carpet. It looked awful. They looked at each other, not believing anyone could see this as anything other than vomit inducing. Sam and Braiden waited by the stairs listening, while John went to run the bath. There was only one problem; this home only had a walk in shower cubicle, no bathtub.

“Damn! What a waste.” John was disappointed that they couldn’t gain another two hundred litres of water, however another thought occurred to him, something so obvious he kicked himself. They would need to maintain hygiene. The dangers of bacteria and disease without hospitals could be as lethal as the undead roaming around outside. A hook in the ceiling would hold a bucket, and if they drilled a few small holes, they could still wash for as long as the soap held out. He wondered what else he had overlooked, but could think of nothing at present, and left the room to meet the boys on the landing.

“No bath unfortunately, but they have a shower which will still be very useful. Why don’t you see what else you can find?” John suggested.

They needed no further prompting and rushed off quietly to perform their search. John listened at the top of the stairs. Apart from the new sounds of the dead outside, nothing moved inside the property. A loud tick tock rose to him and John surmised that the former residents had to have an antique clock of some kind downstairs. The boys returned in less than ten minutes with some batteries, a radio and one other object.

“What is this used for Grandad?” Sam asked quizzically, handing over a small woman’s vibrator. “If you press this, it starts buzzing like my toothbrush.” He pressed the small button on the bottom and John nearly dropped it. He was nearly choking with laughter, he had to hold his hand to his mouth to stifle it, however this just caused him to snort through his nose like a pig. The boys were looking at him as if he was deranged. He finally composed himself, his cheeks wet with tears.

“It’s most definitely not a toothbrush Sam, I’ll tell you about it when you are a little older. For now, I will put this back away.” John took it and threw it into the first drawer he came to, the device safely out of sight.

“Let’s get back, I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving,” John suggested.

They ascended the ladder and made the attic safe before heading back through the new doorways that had been formed. The smell of cooking came wafting through from their house, making them salivate in anticipation. Gloria was knelt by the fire, a saucepan overhanging the flames and propped up with some bricks that had been brought down from the loft. The room was delightfully warm after the cold of the attic. The boys went over and knelt with her, holding their icy fingers out towards the heat. The smell of beef stew was in the air, several open cans were on the hearth to the side of the cooking utensils. Even in the midst of all the death and horror that moment was like a little slice of heaven.

Sarah came back with several bowls, the water had been drunk already and they needed to eat from something anyway. Gloria ladled a generous portion into each bowl before passing them around. They were gratefully received and devoured with similar relish to the zombies chewing a juicy arm. Maybe we weren’t so different after all she mused, smiling to herself. She had put a small portion to one side that had already cooled to a reasonable temperature. With this, she went to the young blonde and tried to feed her. This time there were no mishaps. She opened her mouth each time, chewed and swallowed the contents of the spoon. The warm room, the improvement of the silent survivor, and the full bellies elevated their mood. Even with the ever present threat, they were happy and comfortable. Deep down they knew it could not last, but right there and then, they rejoiced at being alive.

After they had eaten and night began to encroach, daylight fading with each passing minute, Kurt told John of his suspicions about the house over the road. As he had lain there thinking, he played it over and over, and was certain that he had seen movement. The doors remained closed and the windows were dark, but it was bothering him.

“Dad, can you go and take a small peek at that house, number 143? It’s the one with the white door and gold coloured handle.”

“You know there is nothing we can do, don’t you? There are now hundreds between us, even if there is anyone home.”  John was trying to make him see sense, knowing people were alive would make Kurt feel responsible in some way. He would try and help them, which would be suicide.

“I know, but I just want to be sure. It’s playing on my mind.” Kurt was agonising over it, so John decided to look and help put his mind at rest.

He left the bedroom and went to the window which provided an uninterrupted view of the home. Dusk was upon them and he wasn’t worried about being seen anymore, but he still used caution, parting the curtains just enough to see by. He located the property and saw it was lacking any sort of build-up of the dead. This either meant they were very quiet, or no one was there in the first place. He stared and concentrated, much the same as Kurt had done, with no better results. He stood there for ten minutes, observing the windows, as well as keeping a wary eye on the shuffling corpses that now surrounded them. Satisfied there was nothing to it, John started to turn away, until he caught sight of movement. There was a shadow against a shadow. It could have been nothing, but he was certain it had been the same shape as a human figure. No illumination existed or moved that could have created a trick of the light. There were only the street lights, which were fixed. John was in a quandary. If he told Kurt, he would stop at nothing to try and help. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself knowing he’d left them to die. John decided to tell them all, and then keep a watch on the house to see if any more movement was observed.

“I think I saw something,” he told them without preamble. “I can’t be sure, so I want someone to go and sit there for a bit. If it’s confirmed, we can try and come up with a plan.”

Braiden stood and offered his services, taking an extra portion of stew to eat during the vigil. Sarah helped Kurt sit up in bed with the aid of extra pillows. He winced as the ankle fell from the support cushion. Gloria carefully lifted it and put it back in place, the peas were soft and the tea cloth wet, so she took them away. The cloth she hung from the fire guard to dry it and the bag of peas were opened and added to the remaining stew. Nothing could be wasted anymore. It brought back memories of her youth, when they had struggled for food, leftovers being recycled into the next evening’s meal, often with bizarre results. Smiling at the fond memory, she put the pan back in place to heat it through, stirring it gently.

“So what can we do if there are people alive in there?” Kurt asked.

“Realistically? Nothing. We are surrounded. We wouldn’t get five feet before we were torn apart. We have to pray that they have some supplies and can keep quiet. If not…” John didn’t have to explain further.

“Ok, so we are surrounded. We still need to think of a way, as much for ourselves as for them. If we need to move out, I don’t relish trying to get through hundreds of those things.” Kurt’s logic was undeniable.

“You’re right son, we will think of something if we all put our heads together.” John stood and turned the TV back on. All five channels were gone now. Only two even had the maintenance apology screen. They knew what it meant, the old order had fallen and a new age was upon them, the age of the dead. A mournful wail reached up from below as if to confirm their worst fears. They looked at one another for support and reassurance. The most awful conditions can be endured as long as there are good people with you. The feeling of melancholy abruptly ceased as the electricity cut out. The TV faded, taking the apology screen with it.

“Check if it is just us Sam,” John told him.

Sam ran out and called back, “No, it’s all gone, the streetlights are out too.”

“So that’s that then, our next job is to reroute power from the solar electric system. At least it keeps us out of mischief,” John explained.

Nothing more was said. Kurt held Sarah, Sam sat with John and Gloria held the girl’s hand. They just watched the fire burn, the logs gradually breaking apart and becoming ash. It was almost prophetic, a powerful symbol of their existence which was crumbling into nothing. Braiden re-joined them after a while, the loneliness finally too much. They looked at him expectantly.

“I think I saw something too, I can’t be sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, wishing he could have been more helpful. He seated himself by the fireplace near Gloria and the girl. Gloria reached over and patted his knee, a small gesture of support. The night took hold, the fire a welcome barrier to the darkness, Braiden kept it fed with logs until they all decided it was time for rest. They organised the watch and Sam was up first. The rest went to their beds and climbed in, pulling the covers tight. They each laid there with their own thoughts, fear and uncertainty gnawing at them. Soon the emotional toll took hold and they slept as best they could.

The night was uneventful, those on watch watched, noticing nothing of any importance. The darkness, absolute now, prevented anyone observing signs of movement from across the road. The noise of the unceasing shuffle and groans of the dead beneath their feet was becoming an issue. It grated on their psyche and no amount of ignoring it would help. Their sleep was penetrated by the background tumult that triggered horrific nightmares, loved ones torn asunder and the dreamer powerless to help.

They all woke within minutes of each other. Despondency had taken hold, as much from the lack of sleep as from the feeling of utter loneliness they now felt. They were not unreasonable in their assumption that they could be among the last people on Earth. Governments had fallen, entire civilisations washed away in a sea of dead flesh. No one really talked, only cursory hellos and good mornings passed between them. Gloria had built the fire back up. She was busy frying the last of the eggs for breakfast. Bemused, she watched the others slouch around like hormonal teenagers, which of course, two were.

“Would everyone please join me in here?” she called out. They sat down where they could, eyes drawn to the sizzling skillet, mouths watering.

“Excuse me; I am here, thank you,” she said, drawing their eyes from the delicious meal. “So what’s all this then? It has been three days and you are already looking ready to throw in the towel. What happened to the fire and survival instincts that you all showed when this awful mess began?” They all looked at the hands on their laps, very similar to a class of school children being told off. She continued, “My family are originally from London. During the Second World War they were bombed nightly by the Nazis, cowering in bunkers and praying the morning would come. Did they sit there feeling sorry for themselves when they saw the devastation? No! They pulled their socks up and rebuilt. They cleared the roads and ruins. The Nazis couldn’t break the human spirit of my family, no matter how hard they tried.” Her rallying call was in full swing now.