Seeds of Rebellion
Page 96
The rest of the delegation waited atop the hill while Kerick and Halco advanced fifty yards down the slope. Kerick carried a bow and Halco brought a sling. As the disheveled woman drew nearer, her hasty limp became more frantic.
“Halt!” Kerick demanded in a clear voice. “We mean you no harm.”
The woman continued forward without a response.
Kerick set an arrow to his bowstring and pulled it to his cheek. “Halt or I will be forced to shoot. We only wish to converse.”
The woman rasped a moaning reply. Straining her ears and using some imagination, Rachel believed the woman might have said “need.” The woman shambled toward Kerick with desperate vigor.
Kerick put an arrow through her chest. The impact made her stumble; then she continued toward him, oblivious to the injury. Halco loosed a stone from his sling, which knocked her to the ground. Teeth bared angrily, the woman scrambled back to her feet.
“Please, halt,” Kerick demanded, retreating a few paces, his bow bent again.
She gave no response.
With rapid efficiency, Kerick began putting arrows through her head. By the third, she collapsed to the ground, finally immobile.
“Not promising,” Farfalee murmured. “At least enough arrows stopped her. The disease may control her, but it seems the commandeered body needs some brain function to stay in motion.”
“I have considerable experience handling dangerous and exotic substances,” Nedwin said. “Do you mind if I examine the corpse?”
“If you’re willing to risk the consequences,” Farfalee said.
Kerick and Halco withdrew from the fallen woman, and Nedwin approached gingerly, as if expecting that her unconsciousness might be a ruse. Eventually he crouched beside her and used a dagger to prod her in several places. With some effort, he extracted the arrows. After several minutes spent hunched over the inert form, Nedwin returned to the group.
“Worms,” Nedwin reported. “Small ones. Gray. Lots of them. No blood. Just skin, sinew, and bone. The worms were already at work repairing her injuries, knitting her flesh back together. They seemed too heavy to be transmitted through the air. I used my knife to dig out a worm. When I placed it on her arm, the little creature immediately burrowed below her skin.”
“It seems Ferrin provided accurate intelligence,” Farfalee said.
“The walking dead are vehicles governed by parasites,” Nollin said. “They aren’t people. We don’t need to show them any mercy.”
“If my corpse becomes animated by maggots,” Drake said, “please have mercy. Behead me. Burn me. Whatever it takes.”
“You didn’t even need to ask,” Halco assured him.
Rachel shivered. How would it feel to have worms tunnel into her body and assume command? How would she feel to see it happen to one of her companions? To Jason or Corinne? She might truly lose her mind.
Leaving the plague-savaged woman behind, the delegation marched southward. They passed a dilapidated village overgrown by shrubs and small trees, with most of the structures having collapsed into their foundations. Just after sunset, from a ridgetop, they glimpsed a distant city encompassed by a stone wall, its towers silent and dark in the twilight.
Kerick steered the group away from the quiet city. Rachel tried not to picture bloodthirsty zombies lurking behind those gloomy walls. She failed.
After some discussion, they made camp on high ground and lit a fire. Ferrin had insisted that the limping woman had been drawn to them by some instinct far more powerful than firelight, but hoped the flames might be used to intimidate attackers. Kerick had reasoned that while the high ground exposed them visually and allowed enemies to approach from all sides, it also enabled the group to see their enemies coming and to flee in any direction.
Rachel bedded down near Corinne and Jason. “Do you think we can outrun these things if they’re not limping?” Rachel wondered aloud.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Jason replied. “Let’s hope there’s a reason they’re not called the running dead.”
“What do you call the walking dead when you kill them?” Corinne asked.
“Morbid question,” Jason approved. “The walking deader? The no-longer-walking dead?”
“The resting dead,” Rachel said.
“Rachel wins,” Corinne decreed.
“I don’t like how that lady was coming straight at us,” Jason said. “Makes you wonder how many of them are out there right now, heading our way, walking, or limping, or dragging themselves over—”
“Enough,” Rachel said firmly. “I’m already going to have a lousy time sleeping.”
“Better to be prepared than surprised,” Jason said.
“Imagining zombies in the night doesn’t prepare us,” Rachel countered. “If we’re going to get attacked, better to rest than stay up worrying.”
As if in response to their conversation, a shape appeared out of the night at the edge of the firelight, making Rachel gasp until she recognized Nedwin. They hadn’t seen him in hours. He came and crouched beside Jason.
“You were gone a while,” Jason said.
“I don’t like this place,” Nedwin whispered. “I found some hoofprints. Feral pigs. Goats. Wild horses. I toured an abandoned town. There was evidence of other members of the walking dead. I expect we’ll see trouble tonight.”
Jason shot Rachel a significant look. “So what do we do?”
“Try to get some sleep,” Nedwin said.
Rachel shot a look back at Jason.
“I better go report to Farfalee,” Nedwin said.
“I’m not sure I can sleep,” Corinne said. “I’ve never felt so nervous! Is it like this a lot?”
“This is extra bad,” Jason said.
“Horror movie bad,” Rachel agreed.
“Horror movie?” Corinne asked.
“Scary stories we have in the Beyond,” Rachel clarified.
“With titles like Attack of the Wormy Zombies,” Jason added. “They tend to be really bloody.”
Eyes wide, Corinne sat rigidly. “How do they usually end?”
Jason and Rachel shared a knowing look.
The assault came in the deepest hours of the night. Kerick roused the group with a shouted warning. By the time Rachel was on her feet, she could hear the walking dead stumbling in the darkness. A muffled groan somewhere in the blackness made the hair on her arms stand up. Heart thudding, mind wishing she was dreaming, her first realization was that the attackers seemed to be closing in from all directions.
“Halt!” Kerick demanded in a clear voice. “We mean you no harm.”
The woman continued forward without a response.
Kerick set an arrow to his bowstring and pulled it to his cheek. “Halt or I will be forced to shoot. We only wish to converse.”
The woman rasped a moaning reply. Straining her ears and using some imagination, Rachel believed the woman might have said “need.” The woman shambled toward Kerick with desperate vigor.
Kerick put an arrow through her chest. The impact made her stumble; then she continued toward him, oblivious to the injury. Halco loosed a stone from his sling, which knocked her to the ground. Teeth bared angrily, the woman scrambled back to her feet.
“Please, halt,” Kerick demanded, retreating a few paces, his bow bent again.
She gave no response.
With rapid efficiency, Kerick began putting arrows through her head. By the third, she collapsed to the ground, finally immobile.
“Not promising,” Farfalee murmured. “At least enough arrows stopped her. The disease may control her, but it seems the commandeered body needs some brain function to stay in motion.”
“I have considerable experience handling dangerous and exotic substances,” Nedwin said. “Do you mind if I examine the corpse?”
“If you’re willing to risk the consequences,” Farfalee said.
Kerick and Halco withdrew from the fallen woman, and Nedwin approached gingerly, as if expecting that her unconsciousness might be a ruse. Eventually he crouched beside her and used a dagger to prod her in several places. With some effort, he extracted the arrows. After several minutes spent hunched over the inert form, Nedwin returned to the group.
“Worms,” Nedwin reported. “Small ones. Gray. Lots of them. No blood. Just skin, sinew, and bone. The worms were already at work repairing her injuries, knitting her flesh back together. They seemed too heavy to be transmitted through the air. I used my knife to dig out a worm. When I placed it on her arm, the little creature immediately burrowed below her skin.”
“It seems Ferrin provided accurate intelligence,” Farfalee said.
“The walking dead are vehicles governed by parasites,” Nollin said. “They aren’t people. We don’t need to show them any mercy.”
“If my corpse becomes animated by maggots,” Drake said, “please have mercy. Behead me. Burn me. Whatever it takes.”
“You didn’t even need to ask,” Halco assured him.
Rachel shivered. How would it feel to have worms tunnel into her body and assume command? How would she feel to see it happen to one of her companions? To Jason or Corinne? She might truly lose her mind.
Leaving the plague-savaged woman behind, the delegation marched southward. They passed a dilapidated village overgrown by shrubs and small trees, with most of the structures having collapsed into their foundations. Just after sunset, from a ridgetop, they glimpsed a distant city encompassed by a stone wall, its towers silent and dark in the twilight.
Kerick steered the group away from the quiet city. Rachel tried not to picture bloodthirsty zombies lurking behind those gloomy walls. She failed.
After some discussion, they made camp on high ground and lit a fire. Ferrin had insisted that the limping woman had been drawn to them by some instinct far more powerful than firelight, but hoped the flames might be used to intimidate attackers. Kerick had reasoned that while the high ground exposed them visually and allowed enemies to approach from all sides, it also enabled the group to see their enemies coming and to flee in any direction.
Rachel bedded down near Corinne and Jason. “Do you think we can outrun these things if they’re not limping?” Rachel wondered aloud.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Jason replied. “Let’s hope there’s a reason they’re not called the running dead.”
“What do you call the walking dead when you kill them?” Corinne asked.
“Morbid question,” Jason approved. “The walking deader? The no-longer-walking dead?”
“The resting dead,” Rachel said.
“Rachel wins,” Corinne decreed.
“I don’t like how that lady was coming straight at us,” Jason said. “Makes you wonder how many of them are out there right now, heading our way, walking, or limping, or dragging themselves over—”
“Enough,” Rachel said firmly. “I’m already going to have a lousy time sleeping.”
“Better to be prepared than surprised,” Jason said.
“Imagining zombies in the night doesn’t prepare us,” Rachel countered. “If we’re going to get attacked, better to rest than stay up worrying.”
As if in response to their conversation, a shape appeared out of the night at the edge of the firelight, making Rachel gasp until she recognized Nedwin. They hadn’t seen him in hours. He came and crouched beside Jason.
“You were gone a while,” Jason said.
“I don’t like this place,” Nedwin whispered. “I found some hoofprints. Feral pigs. Goats. Wild horses. I toured an abandoned town. There was evidence of other members of the walking dead. I expect we’ll see trouble tonight.”
Jason shot Rachel a significant look. “So what do we do?”
“Try to get some sleep,” Nedwin said.
Rachel shot a look back at Jason.
“I better go report to Farfalee,” Nedwin said.
“I’m not sure I can sleep,” Corinne said. “I’ve never felt so nervous! Is it like this a lot?”
“This is extra bad,” Jason said.
“Horror movie bad,” Rachel agreed.
“Horror movie?” Corinne asked.
“Scary stories we have in the Beyond,” Rachel clarified.
“With titles like Attack of the Wormy Zombies,” Jason added. “They tend to be really bloody.”
Eyes wide, Corinne sat rigidly. “How do they usually end?”
Jason and Rachel shared a knowing look.
The assault came in the deepest hours of the night. Kerick roused the group with a shouted warning. By the time Rachel was on her feet, she could hear the walking dead stumbling in the darkness. A muffled groan somewhere in the blackness made the hair on her arms stand up. Heart thudding, mind wishing she was dreaming, her first realization was that the attackers seemed to be closing in from all directions.
