The Left Series (Book 4): Left In The Cold (33 page)

“We’d better keep watches,” Cordoba suggested. “We’re sitting ducks if we all sit in this room. Don’t forget, they’ve still got one of our rifles. They could fire a burst of rounds straight through that door. The best vantage point would be on the landing, at the top of the staircase.”

“Good point,” Wingate said. “We’d better divide the watches between the three of us. Let’s leave Batfish out of this roster.”

We glanced at Batfish, who still slept in the corner.

“She’s had a terrible shock,” Wingate concluded.

I really didn’t feel like sitting around on the landing, waiting for
Maddie and/or Davie to attack but somebody had to do it.

“I don’t mind taking a turn,” Jimmy volunteered.

Wingate smiled. “We’ll be okay, Jimmy. I need you in here to keep an eye on Smith and Batfish. With your first aid skills, we’ll make a medic out of you yet.”

Jimmy grinned and looked slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll do the first shift,” Cordoba said, picking up one of the M-16 rifles. She reloaded the weapon, checked her sidearm and headed towards the door. “I’ll holler if I hear anything,” she said before exiting the bedroom.

I reached for my cigarettes and lit one up.

“Brett, what are you thinking? We’ve got a sick man, here. He doesn’t need to be breathing in that crap,” Wingate scolded. “Put that damn thing out.”

“He’d probably enjoy it,” I mumbled in protest, stamping on the partially smoked cigarette. 

A grinding sound from outside caught my attention. I glanced out the window but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. I rose from the stool and peered into the blackness, leaning close to the glass panes.

“What’s that noise?” I hissed.

Jimmy joined me at the window and Wingate and I exchanged concerned glances. The clouds in the night sky parted and the full moon dimly illuminated the front entrance of the castle.

“Oh,
shite,” Jimmy gasped.

I didn’t notice what he’d spotted at first and when I
observed what he’d seen, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Chapter Forty-Seven

The moon light shone over a blonde haired female beside the castle’s portcullis gateway entrance. I recognized the crazed grimacing features and tense body language. Maddie was carrying out her ultimate revenge. She was struggling with the huge wooden wheel situated waist height against the frame but she turned it in a counterclockwise direction and the huge gateway was rising. The gathered crowd of undead outside the castle moaned in anticipation of a feed. They reached beneath the rising portcullis, slithering through the snow on the ground.

“Bloody hell!”
Jimmy spat. “She’s letting those dead bastards in.”

“What?” Wingate rasped, springing off the edge of the bed and hurt
ling to the window. She stood behind us, craning her neck to see out the window. “What the hell is that crazy woman doing?”

“She said she was going to kill us all,” I sighed. “But I didn’t think she’d sink to this level.” I’d proved myself right. There was no telling what
Maddie was going to do next. She’d obviously realized she was outgunned and wouldn’t be able to draw us away individually, so she’d resorted to using the undead to accomplish her retribution.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “If we stay in here, we’ll be trapped.”

“We better get Cordoba back in here,” Wingate said.

I recognized the panic in her voice.
This situation was a turn of events I defiantly hadn’t expected. Jimmy moved quickly to the door and stuck his head out into the landing. I heard his muffled voice explaining the situation to Cordoba and she rushed into the room and joined us at the window.

“What the hell is that crazy bitch doing?” she yelled.

“She’s letting a shite load of trouble in,” Jimmy groaned.

The portcullis had risen to around five feet from the ground. At least two dozen zombies had already crawled into the castle grounds beneath the gateway.
Maddie stopped turning the operational wheel, obviously deciding she’d opened the portcullis high enough. She secured the mechanism so the gateway stayed in place, turned and ran back towards the castle. More zombies poured through the open entranceway, following Maddie to the main structure.

“Oh, shit, they’re heading this way,” I wailed. “We need to make a move.”

“Smith is still sick,” Wingate protested. “We might make him worse if we try and move him.”

“We’ll all die if we stay here,” I groaned. “We need to pack up our gear and get out of here.”

“Brett, it is two a.m. in the morning, it is freezing cold outside and it is dark, where are we going to go?” Wingate wailed.

I racked my brains for an alternative solution
. Barricading ourselves in our room against a gun totting enemy was one thing but trying to flee the castle while it was full of zombies was going to prove difficult. My mind raced between alternative scenarios. If we stayed put we’d never get out. If we left now we’d leave ourselves exposed to the elements and still have to fight our way through countless undead. If I made a rash decision, I was likely to get us all killed by either bullet or bite.

“Is Smith able to walk?” I asked.

“I doubt it,” Wingate said, shaking her head. “He still needs rest.”

I sighed in frustration and ducked my head, gazing at the floor.
Maddie had certainly fucked us over. No doubt she’d lure the zombies towards our position. There was one way down from the tower and if the narrow staircase was blocked by a gang of undead, we’d be trapped. Zombies weren’t the best climbers in the world but they would eventually negotiate the stairway and find their way up to us. We didn’t have enough food between us to last for a long waiting campaign. We’d slowly starve to death up in the damn tower. I came to a snap decision.

“We have to move now,” I growled at Wingate. “We have to get Smith up and move him otherwise we’ll be stuck up here with no way of escaping.”

She looked at me with a worried expression on her face but reluctantly nodded. She knew what the consequences would be if we stayed inside the bedroom.

“Smith would want us to try and get away,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

“I’ll try and wake him,” Wingate muttered.

Cordoba loaded the remaining M-16 rifle and then started packing our gear into the backpacks. Jimmy gave her a hand and Batfish stirred and opened her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she blearily asked.

I brought her up to speed on our current state of affairs and she naturally looked shocked.
She wearily stood up and began helping to pack the gear.

“We better get our outdoor clothing on now,” Cordoba said. She handed out the parker coats, hoods and cold weather fatigues. “We may need them sooner than we think.” She handed a spare set to Jimmy.

Wingate shook Smith gently at first then with increasing intensity.

“Smith, wake up,” she barked.

“Huh?...what?...son of a bitch,” Smith muttered, still half asleep. He eventually opened his eyes and glanced around the room, looking confused. “Where am I?” he croaked.

Wingate gave him a drink of water while she explained our predicament. “Can you walk?” she asked, when she’d finished telling him what was going on.

“Where’s Gera?” Smith spluttered, downing the water. “And who is that kid with Cordoba?”

Wingate sighed and glanced at me. “We’ll tell you all about it later on. Can you walk, Smith? We have to go now.”

“Yeah, of course I can walk,” Smith spat, throwing off the bed quilt. “I learned to walk when I was eight months old. I’m not about to forget how to do that.” He seemed a little agitated that we’d asked him if he could move. He dragged himself to his feet and stood woozily by the bed, rapidly blinking his eyes.

“You okay?” Wingate asked.

Smith swayed, standing in his underwear, looking like a drunken man with a bad hangover.

“U
-huh…just need a minute,” he croaked.

I knew we had to allow Smith time to wake up and get his bearings but every second we stayed put, the zombies were getting a step closer.

Chapter Forty-Eight

“Come on, Smith. We need to hurry,” I barked, clapping my hands together.

“Brett
, don’t be so mean,” Wingate snapped. “He’s just been poisoned.”

“I know that but we have to go,” I groaned.

Wingate wiped Smith’s face and torso down with a moist towel to freshen him up a little. Cordoba tossed over a set of clean combat fatigues and a set of cold weather gear.

“We might get a little hot in this clothing but don’t take any of it off,” she instructed. “We can’t afford to come back for anything once we’re gone.”

Jimmy was struggling to don his cold weather gear so Cordoba stepped in and helped him. I hurriedly dressed into my own foul weather clothing and Batfish had to help me pull on my jacket. I wasn’t looking forward to carrying a heavy backpack with the straps digging into my shoulder injury.

Smith wobbled on his feet as Wingate hastily dressed him. He still looked half asleep and I was worried he wouldn’t have his wits about
him while we were trying to escape the castle.

“Christ, look at us,” I sighed.
“A rag-tag bunch of walking wounded and the sick.”

Wingate turned and glared at me. “Us women aren’t injured or sick, Wilde,” she snapped. “Have a little faith in your female companions, wont you? We can get you out of here just as
easily as you and Smith could.”

“Amen to that,” Cordoba chipped in.

“Sorry I spoke,” I sighed and then yelped in pain as Batfish tightened the draw strings of my jacket around my neck. The parker’s material chaffed against my injury.

“Think before you speak,” Batfish whispered in my face.

I nodded. “All right, whatever, women rule, but can we please get going?”

Smith looked and walked like the monster in those old black and white ‘
Frankenstein
’ movies, as we moved towards the bedroom door. Jimmy carried Gera’s backpack and I hoped the young lad would be able to cope under its weight. Batfish helped me slide on my own rucksack and I felt the stinging pain as the strap dug into my left shoulder. I groaned but knew I’d have to live with the pain. I helped Batfish tuck Spot into his harness around her waist.

We couldn’t carry
Smith’s pack as well but Cordoba had divided the gear up, so we all had a little extra to carry. Wingate slipped Smith’s near empty back pack across his shoulder’s and pulled the straps tight. The rucksacks were also a little lighter due to the absence of the spare ammunition and the wad of Smith’s cash. We’d have to leave with what we could carry. The remaining M-16, ammunition, cash and some of the food supplies would have to be forgotten about and classed as written off. Thankfully, Smith hadn’t remembered his money was still missing otherwise he’d try and go after it.

“Everybody ready?”
Cordoba asked, with her hand on the door handle. She carried one of the M-16s and Batfish reluctantly took the other rifle. I drew my M-9 handgun and held it at the ready. Wingate followed suit, Jimmy clutched onto the shotgun but Smith remained unarmed, still in no fit state to be up and around, let alone fire a weapon.  

We all mumbled or nodded and Cordoba opened the door. 

Wingate linked her arm with Smith’s and led him across the landing. The moans of the undead already inside the castle, drifted up the staircase from the floors below.

“Jesus, they must be close to us already,” Batfish whispered.

“I have a bad feeling Maddie’s leading them right here,” I groaned.

“We’d better hurry,” Cordoba hissed. “We don’t want to be trapped on that stairway.”
She cautiously led the way down the steps.

The shrieks and moans of the undead grew louder as we descended. Smith bumped down the steps, struggling to coordinate himself. The backpacks weighed heavy and felt cumbersome as we tried to negotiate the narrow staircase.
I was sweltering hot inside the padded cold weather gear and my shoulder wound stung like a bastard. 

I turned to Jimmy as we gathered in the hallway below the staircase. “Do you know of any other routes we can take to bypass the Great Hall?” I asked. “Any alternative passageways
we can use?”

Jimmy shook his head. “The other walkways and corridors are like spider’s webs but they
dinnae’ start until you get by the Great Hall.”

“Shit,” I spat. “We’ll just have to carry on through.”
I had a sudden thought. “If any of us get separated, we’ll meet up at the golf clubhouse, outside the castle grounds.”