Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) (18 page)

“Everyone knows in the streets,” said Ira and as they got closer to the planned route of the walk, voices and the sound of drums became louder. The parade must have already begun.

“Maybe if he gets pushed to make a declaration, it will get easier to chase him for responsibility.”

Ira went silent for a moment, but finally put a hand on James’ shoulder. “Don’t come too close to the march,” he warned. In front of them, they already saw a crowd gathering along the perpendicular street. Some voiced their support for the manifestation; others seemed to do everything in their might to drown the shouts of the former. At the back of the crowd, Ira and James actually saw a group of lads still quarrelling, but at least three of them looked ready to join a fight at any given moment.

“Don’t worry. I need to see what’s happening there,” said James to his displeased companion. They had heard the echoing sounds of someone talking through a speaking tube. Maybe a preacher. It was impossible to understand though, from the distance. “There is military all around, anyway,” he said, recognizing that Ira was becoming increasingly tense.

“Oh I know them well,” snorted Ira, looking back at him, worry clear in his eyes. “Keep close to me ‘if ya really wanna be ‘ere.”

“Be where?” asked James as they started passing onlookers, moving closer to the manifestation. The walls of the buildings around them were tall and dark, covering most of the area in an unpleasantly cold shadow.

“Near ‘em!” Ira exhaled, remaining silent until they reached the crowd, which filled both sides of the main street in the area. From the look of it, most of the people gathered here were working class, but they could also spot people dressed in finer clothing. The rhythmic sound of drums overshadowed all conversations around them, leaving James strangely isolated in the crowd. Feeling safe with Ira at his side, he stood on his toes to look at the grotesque parade of Johners.

All of them wore simplistic garments made of rough, charcoal colored cloth with little tailoring. That was something that James was used to about the Johners, but suddenly, he noticed something that made him open his eyes wider. In the middle of the procession, on an elevated platform was a massive wooden cage full of zombies. His blood went cold at that sight, and for a brief moment he felt almost lightheaded. The monsters weren’t nearly loud enough to be heard in the racket, but their ashen hands reached towards the crowd, hungry mouths fell open in desperation and James recalled their stench, making him feel physically sick.

“Ira... Do you see that!?” he exclaimed in shock.

“Told ya, boy.” The man shook his head in disbelief, watching a group of shirtless men walking behind the platform, beating themselves with leather whips, their backs covered with thick nets of bloodied welts. Ira stiffened, seeing a female onlooker faint into her male companion’s arms.

“This is sick!” James said with disgust, looking at the leader of all the Witnesses of the Apocalypse - Isaac Bell. The man was tall, bald and stood proudly on the platform just behind the cage. He was dressed in a plain vicar’s outfit and held a big, old Bible over his heart.

“The time is near, brothers and sisters!” he shouted through a tube in an uplifted, godly tone. “Our Lord God couldn’t stand how corrupt mankind has become! And this, this!,” the preacher said, pointing at the cage with fire in his clear eyes, “this is his answer! He spat his wrath upon us and his message is: ‘Succumb to my will!’”

“What fucking will is that!?” said James quietly, clenching his fists, gaze set on Isaac Bell. He couldn’t believe that the military would allow this! That the authorities allowed zombies to be paraded into the city like this!

He immediately looked around, spotting soldiers dressed in knee-long leather coats and red caps. They wore intimidating gas masks with a flat front and layered sides. Their eyes were invisible through smoked goggles, but the large eye part bared resemblance to insects. Black lenses made the men seem impersonal and inhuman.

The soldiers didn’t react to the undead, merely standing motionless in identical intervals, holding large rifles to their chests with both hands, stiff and ready for action. James saw one of the higher ranked officers talking to another official, looking around with frantic movements, but then something else caught the aristocrat’s attention. A creamy handkerchief, landed on the zombie cage after a flowing, romantic dance through the air. When he looked up, bile rose in his throat at the sight of no one else but lady Juanita Shelley standing on a lovingly decorated balcony. She was there with a group of friends, drinking wine from elegant glasses, laughing and cheering as if this were a happy occasion.

“You may not understand the Lord’s message, but he spoke to me through a burning bush deep in the woods! ‘Isaac’, he said, ‘go and lead my flock as it is time!’.” Isaac Bell’s face was fiery red as he spread his arms as if to engulf the crowd with their reach. “Brothers and sisters, it is not us, but these godly beings who have been blessed by God, for their souls are already by his side!”

“Do you hear this gibberish!?” spat James with anger, looking back at Ira. He didn’t want his son to grow up in a place where people like this had a public say.

“Told ya!” answered the other man, an angry line obvious on his forehead. “Ya'd 'ave to be mad to support them!”

James wanted to answer, but then, all of a sudden, he heard a snap and a sudden burst of screams from the procession. When he turned his head, he could see people rushing toward them in panic. He felt as if the world slowed down as he recognized a growing crack on the side of the cage. The undead were not out yet, but it became obvious that it was just a matter of minutes. “Lord save us...!” he uttered.

Ira immediately pressed him into the wall of the nearest building and stood between him and the charging crowd. James’ eyes skimmed along the scared faces passing by at his line of sight. Suddenly, he heard a loud, pained scream to the left. A cold shiver ran down his back at the sight only a few feet away. The soldier standing nearest to them was dying. Three ordinary-looking men had him pinned against the wall; his body slumped, though still trembling in painful jerks. James’ heart sank as he realized there was blood trickling on the man’s coat from the mouthpiece of his mask. What was happening!?

“Let’s go!” whispered James, trying to scan the area from behind Ira’s arms. It wasn’t easy with the crowd passing them in fear. The situation was becoming increasingly heated, even though other soldiers were moving in to take control. James realized that now, he could hear hungry growls and moans of the freed undead and it sent a shiver down his spine. It meant they must have moved closer!

Ira nodded, pulling James towards the street they originally came from. The panicking crowd ran in various directions, slowing them down, it felt like trying to fight a stormy ocean. The older man tried to shield his partner from the stampeding flow of people, but it was futile. James felt oxygen being knocked out of his lungs as someone thrashed into him, brutally yanking him out of Ira’s arms.

Instantly, he fought back, delivering an aggressive push with his elbow. He wouldn’t let someone simply knock him over! After a struggle, he managed to finally grab Ira’s arm again. He didn’t have a clue where his lover was leading him, but he chose to trust him anyway. Ear splitting noise surrounded them from all sides, overwhelming James’ senses as he couldn’t recognize where they were anymore. He heard the characteristic roar of the undead, screams of horror and agony, and he could only imagine that some onlookers must have been trampled. Had they, themselves come any closer to safety?

Ira pulled him close, his heart hammering loud enough for James to hear as he desperately tried to direct them out of the chaos.

“Where are we going!?” screamed James, trying to understand this horrendous human mush and get away as fast as possible. He saw a sharp move to his right and it turned out to be one of the soldiers, splitting one of the undead in half with his bayonet in a precise move. Hope filled his heart as he saw how well trained those men must have been. It made him happy to have such brave fighters on their side. His smile faltered when he saw a small gun appear right at the soldier’s nape and before he could voice a warning, the man fell to the ground, disappearing from sight. It was only then that James finally understood. There were Johners in the crowd, trying to disturb the actions of the military and help the zombies cause more havoc.

“Inside this house!” hissed Ira, forcefully shoving a terrified teenage boy to the side and pulling James with him. His patience must have expired, his moves becoming more frantic as he made his way through the crowd, brutally pushing those smaller than him aside and avoiding those who were too large to confront. Over his arm, James saw a military officer brutally arresting Isaac Bell. The preacher was knocked down with an agonizing scream. If he didn’t know better, James would have thought the preacher was dying.

Ira hissed loudly, pulling him towards an iron gate, which led into a three-story brick building. Once he managed to get through the last hindrance and reach the metal door, he simply embraced James with one hand as he rummaged through one of his pockets with the other. They were constantly shoved into the gate, but with Ira’s large body shielding him, James didn’t feel much discomfort.

He hesitated for only a second and clung to Ira closely, helping him shove away the crowd, so he could finally find whatever he was looking for. James desperately hoped it was a key and indeed, just a few moments later, he saw a piece of metal in Ira’s hand. After two sharp clicks, the rusty lock opened, allowing them in with a loud squeak. Naturally, Ira didn’t want to let potentially dangerous individuals inside, so he opened the gate very discreetly, pushing his companion inside before following him in a swift move.

James almost fell over as he tumbled into a dusty room and took a quick glance around. Once he made sure they were alone, he removed his mask with a sharp pull,  took in a long breath and turned to Ira, who was trying to close the door as quickly as possible. It heaved over and over but didn’t open thanks to Ira holding the gate with all his weight. Someone must have seen their escape. Fortunately, the man managed to turn the key inside the lock at the first attempt. The person trying to enter, banged their fists on the door and didn’t give it another try. After a moment of peace, Ira let out a relieved sigh, his broad back slouching, exhausted.

The room was moldy and wet, with a barn floor under their feet.  A further gate presumably led to the courtyard, but James focused his attention on an old wooden staircase that led upstairs.  “Bloody hell!” he cried out, walking up to Ira and grabbing his arm, all tense and nervous.

“What?!” The other man immediately turned around, alarmed, his eyes narrowed, body tense and ready to fight.

“Let’s go upstairs, so we can see what’s happening in the street!” said James all agigated himself while stroking Ira’s arm, to calm him down. He pulled him towards the stairs.

The other man gave a relieved laugh, shaking his head as he let his hand slide down his lover’s arm to hold his hand. James stopped halfway up the stairs. He looked into Ira’s eyes. This one simple, gentle gesture, which was up until now reserved for his wife, had an instant soothing effect on his nerves. Taking a firm hold of Ira’s large hand, he resumed pacing up the creaking stairs.

“Gonna keep you safe,” Ira whispered with a content expression on his face. With each squeaking step they both took, the older man’s face lit up more and more. James could see it well as the low ceiling forced them to bow down a little.

They walked into a dusty attic room with a massive round window facing the street. It must have been used for storage, as there were many wooden boxes and closed jute bags all around them.

“You have to, right?” James laughed a bit nervously, giving him a peck on the cheek. Ira joined him and turned his head to nuzzle the side of his partner’s face. His touch sent shivers down James’ spine and the intimacy of Ira’s gestures made him ache with intense emotion. It was nothing like anything James had felt so far; a longing that could never be satisfied without the touch of these warm hands and lips.

“So that you get that big room, right?” he whispered, slowly wrapping his arms around Ira’s neck. Embracing the other man in a long, strong hug made him feel warm inside. Ira's strength and determination to keep them both safe was truly impressive.

“That’s what I’m goin’ for!” laughed the other man, slowly sliding his arms around James and pulling him closer. As their bodies touched, a spark of lust went through them, powered by the blood still rushing through their veins at a furious pace after what had happened moments before.

“I will care for you,” James promised, tracing his fingers on Ira’s nape and head. “It’s all going to work out, I’m sure of it.” He smiled, immediately awarded by a similar expression in Ira’s brown eyes. He pressed his nose to James’...

“Let’s just see if it’s any better,” said James, giving him another kiss before moving closer to the dusty window. When they looked out onto the street, the situation did seem to have become less manic. The last of the moving zombies were being mercilessly disposed off and the police had arrested many Johners and pushed them into a police vehicle. James exhaled with relief. “I’m so glad they managed to overcome this madness.”

“Ya shouldn’t do somethin' like this again,” commented Ira, stroking his back slowly. It looked like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. “See the dead?” he asked and indeed, there were several corpses on the cobbled street, some of them surrounded by too much blood to simply be victims of trampling.