Seasons of Z (Book 2): Dead Spring Page 9

  Mickey thought of Joy and the others. He didn't doubt they would have explored the perimeter, seen the heads and gone back – to find him missing and hear about the attack from River and Poppy – if they were safe...

  “I have a few friends, with guns. If they try and bust me out, what chance do they have?”

  “Pretty good,” Alex replied, “She was fuming when she put you in the cell, saying something about three of her men were killed tonight... Your people did that. I think they might be able to get you out.”

  “And what's your escape plan?”

  “Well, tricking her into the cell and making a run for the door didn't work last time, so that's out of the question,” he told him, “I don't know yet. But we have until tomorrow night, and if we don't think of something and your friends don't arrive by then, we could both be dead...”

  Or Joy and the others could be dead by tonight, Mickey thought silently as he recalled how Rosemary had told him about the mix of corpses and zombies tied in the scarecrow field. She said they would cut them loose. The zombies would be starving, and the field was closer to the farm than it was to this house... His head throbbed again and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as he tried to push away the pain that was threatening to dominate his thoughts.

  “We really do need to think of something!” he told Alex, “We don't have much time...”

  At the farmhouse the gate was bolted and Sage was on guard outside after she and Joy had dumped the bodies. The hallway was still splashed with blood. The driveway was smeared with blood and bone fragment. It had been a mess to come home to – and then, they had been hit with the shock of learning Mickey was gone. As the others gathered in the front room, River was shivering as she sat in an armchair sipping a glass of brandy, but it did nothing to cancel out the shock she felt at knowing she had just killed three people. Joy was making plans with Chris as Poppy sat there wide eyed and tearful.

  “We can't go in at daybreak,” Chris was saying, “They'll see us coming. We don't know how many of those people are willing to fight – someone put those heads on spikes and -”

  “What?” Poppy jumped up from her seat as tears filled her eyes, “Mickey could be dead by now!” she wailed, and as she heard her sister cry, Sage hurried back in, propping a rifle by the door, then gathering her sobbing sister into her arms and holding her tightly.

  Joy looked at Chris, keeping her voice low.

  “Don't do that again. Don't mention severed heads at a time like this! I don't even want to think about what we saw – and they have Mickey!”

  “Maybe she won't hurt him,” Sage said as she hugged her sister, “Rosemary said, she wanted the child, the blind man and the cripple. Obviously she thought they would all be ideal candidates to join her people. I think he's safe for now.”

  “But for how long?” Joy was frantic with worry and trying not to show it as she desperately tried to think of a plan. All she knew for sure was, as soon as they got Mickey back, they would be leaving this place forever...

  A short distance from the land surrounding the farm, in the field where the corpses and the zombies were tied to stakes, hooded figures moved swiftly as blades catching on moonlight sliced through bonds, as the undead staggered free and the living retreated, watching as the creatures sniffed at the air, turned slowly, then saw the lights on in the farm house and begun to stagger towards it where within, the promise of fresh blood waited...

  Chapter 6

  Tomorrow night was decided upon reluctantly. Joy had wanted to go back to the house after midnight, spraying the place with gun fire. But as Sage had pointed out, they didn't know how many of the people there were on Rosemary's side. In times as hard as these, the desperate would seek refuge anywhere...

  “I just want Mickey back, I want to know he's safe,” she said as she paced the kitchen.

  Midnight was underway as hour hand on the wall clock shifted past twelve. River had gone off to bed still shaken up and Chris had joined her, keen to sit beside her and keep her company all night if that was what it took for her to finally get some rest. Poppy had fallen asleep downstairs on the sofa while the adults talked in the next room. Sage leaned on the table, thinking on the situation with Rosemary and her people.

  “If they needed something we could trade, maybe food or guns for Mickey, it would be simple – but she doesn't want those things.”

  “And you can't reason with crazy,” Joy reminded her, “I knew she wasn't right the first time I spoke to her. I was a copper long enough to tell at a glance when someone isn't right and she's...” Joy looked to the window, where past the darkened garden and the brick wall her thoughts sped over the fields and the forest and went straight to Mickey, where ever he was, as she wished he knew she was thinking of him.

  “She's a psychopath!” she added, stifling a sob as she took in a deep breath and wiped her eyes, “I know they could be waiting for us tonight, but -”

  “They will be!” Sage reminded her firmly, “This is why we have to wait. We'll walk straight into a trap if we rush in there!”

  Joy paced the floor, looked from the window to Sage as worry reflected in her eyes.

  “I don't want to think about what might be happening to him.”

  “Then don't,” Sage told her, “Don't think about what might be happening, just focus on tomorrow night and getting him out of there. You can't torture yourself on what ifs, I learned that long ago when Bess went missing. She might still be out there – she could be up at the house for all we know.”

  Joy turned sharply and stopped pacing as she glared at her.

  “It was your idea to go to the house! What are the odds on Bess being in that place, Sage? Because we split up and left this place almost empty, Rosemary's people came over and now they have Mickey!”

  Sage stepped back from the table, speechless at the hurt and anger she saw burning in Joy's eyes.

  “We didn't know they were planning something like this!”

  Joy blinked away more tears as she pulled back her anger. Sage was right.

  “But they still have Mickey,” she said as emotion choked her words, “And he's not exactly in a position to put up much of a fight, they knocked him out and dragged him away from here! How can he stand up to them? His right side is weak, now he probably has concussion too.”

  Sage chose her words carefully, knowing to quarrel over this while Joy was so worked up would be as useful as throwing petrol on a fire to try and put it out.

  “Joy,” she said as she stepped closer and looked at her kindly, “I know you love him. He's a pain in the arse, he's been responsible for almost as much trouble as the hordes ever since we met him – I still haven't forgotten him robbing the jewellery store and half the undead in the town coming after us when they heard the alarm! And he spends too long in the bathroom and uses up all the best toiletries but, he's like family to us now. It's weird, we're all like family, the way we stick together!”

  That remark made Joy smile.

  “It's true,” Sage continued, “Look at us! In the old world, I would have been going about my day, looking after Poppy and waiting for Bess to come home at the weekend - and you would have been out in your squad car parked up by the bridge waiting to catch people speeding, because there was nothing else to do in the village. River would have been running her GP practice, and Chris would have been going about his day visiting his best friend who worked at the mall. And as for Mickey...” she paused, briefly smiling as she shook her head, “Your poor, vulnerable Mickey who you're so desperate to protect, would have been out there carrying on with his daily life, gun smuggling. Just another day in his career in organised crime! Don't forget who he is, Joy! He's been in situations, he knows how to handle himself. No one lives that kind of life for all those years without learning enough to get by when things get tough! He's alive, and he's going to get out of there.”

  Joy slowly nodded. Again, Sage was right. Of course Mickey was tough enough to handle this...

&n
bsp; “He'll make it,” she agreed, “Unless he puts up a fight.”

  “He won't try anything stupid,” Sage reminded her, “Rosemary said, she wanted the cripple. Wanted him in her community. At the worst, she's holding him prisoner, maybe he's tied up or locked up in a room in that house. But he's alive.”

  Joy felt stronger now. All Sage had just said had lent her much needed hope.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “He's alive, he has to be.” Then she briefly hugged her and as she let go, she silently clung to the hope that Sage was right. Mickey was tougher than he looked. He could get through this, he would still be alive when they found him. She couldn't bear to think of any other way for this situation to end...

  It was dark down in the cells where Mickey and Alex were held captive. The lights were off and Alex had put the brick back in the wall for a short time, allowing time for the guard to enter the room and leave again, closing the door behind him. And all the while Mickey sat there on the floor in the dark, thinking about the situation... The darkness had helped to ease the ache in his head, that feeling of nausea and slight dizziness had left him now. It had been hours since his capture, and as he recalled he was wearing a watch, it was also too dark to see, so he guessed he would have to wait to check the time.

  He had worked out they were being held in a cellar, because he saw no hint of the outside through the bars, just an old wall of brick beyond. When the door at the other end of the room opened and closed, he had looked through the bars and seen a flight of steps leading upward. That explained how footfalls echoed as the guards descended – and would certainly give him time to be ready... A plan was forming. He reached out with his right hand, pushing against the loose brick, then swearing under his breath as his weak hand barely shifted it. He switched to his other hand, giving it a shove just as Alex took hold of it from the other side and slid it out.

  “You have a plan yet?”

  “I think so,” said Mickey, keeping his voice low, “But you're currently holding it in your hand... slide that brick through to me. Who ever opens the cell door is getting it round their fucking head! I'm surprised you never thought of doing that.”

  There was a pause.

  “I've never killed anyone before,” said Alex.

  “How old are you?” Mickey asked as he leaned against the wall, thankful for its support as the remainder of his concussion made his head spin slightly.

  “I was twenty three when the outbreak happened. I was twenty four last month.”

  “By the time I was twenty four I'd already got blood on my hands more than once,” Mickey replied, “My sister is – was – Flora Deering.”

  “Never heard of her.”

  “Her husband ran a criminal empire. I used to run guns. And none of that matters now... Have you killed any of those creatures since the outbreak?”

  Alex paused for thought.

  “When the virus hit the village, a few of us got together and tried to fight off the horde. I was given a gun and I shot a few and they didn't get back up, so I guess I killed them. I didn't stay around to find out. I tried to head out into the countryside, as far from people and zombies as I could get – and that was when Rosemary offered me a place to stay. I refused, but her people took me in anyway, dragged me in here and locked the door. She was always weird, even before the zombies. She used to hang around the churchyard, talking to the graves. She liked to go up to people and tell them the end was coming, that they would be punished for straying from the natural world's intentions...Too many marriage break ups and too many people using contraception for her liking. In her mind, everyone should be straight, there are only two genders and men and women were put on the earth to procreate. Now the zombies have taken over, she's loving every minute of it.”

  “What about the people here, do they take her side?”

  Alex laughed.

  “Fuck, no! She takes in people who are desperate, scared... then controls them with food rations and the threat of execution if they step out of line. She doesn't have many guards here. But I know how she pays them...” his voice trembled as he took in an uneasy breath, “She told me she's got half a dozen men lining up waiting to fuck some sense into me. That's what she said, and that's how she works. Sex is a bargaining chip. That's how she pays her heavies to run this place. There are plenty of women upstairs and camped outside. And the gates are locked and the guards are armed. I want to burn this place to the ground!”

  Mickey was thinking, and suddenly the plan had just expanded. Maybe to something safer than trying to get out of here armed with just a brick...

  “This circle, what's it about?”

  “She's got this room on the ground floor, it's all painted black and there's some kind of occult symbols on the walls... she takes people in there to join as one with her god, she calls the lord of ruin. Apparently dark forces are the side to be on now, in her crazy head. I know those who refuse to obey her get killed in the circle. I heard sacrifices are made, the blood is taken outside and poured on to the soil. I heard this from the last person in your cell, and they're dead now. We really have to think of a plan better than you hitting a guard with a brick, Mickey!”

  “Maybe I have a plan,” he replied, keeping his voice low, “Tell me what she wants from you?”

  Alex gave a sigh.

  “She refuses to see me as Alex. A few years back, my name was Anita. When she looks at me, she doesn't see me as I am, she refuses to accept it. She always did stare at me when she saw me in the village. She wants me to go back to being Anita, and to find a mate, and have a baby as she believes nature demands, everyone has to have babies to grow her community bigger so we can repopulate the world.”

  “I have an idea,” Mickey said, and he pushed his hand through the gap in the wall, reaching for Alex. And as he felt this hand in his grasp, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “We're not going to die. Not if we can get out of here and get up there and fool her into trusting us!”

  As he drew his hand back, Alex peered through the gap.

  “But we have no plan! You heard the way she talks, she's crazy!”

  Mickey was daring to feel optimistic now.

  “Trust me, this will work,” he said, “All we have to do, is give her what she wants! Or at least, let her think she's getting what she wants... once we're up there, we stand a chance of grabbing guns and maybe you will get to burn this place down!”

  “So what exactly are we going to do?” Alex asked.

  Mickey paused for thought.

  “She wants you to be a woman again and find a mate. Well, I'll be your man.”

  Alex laughed.

  “What the fuck, Mickey?”

  His eyes sparked with enthusiasm as he laid out his plan, a plan that was a much safer bet than smacking a random guard with a brick.

  “I'm going to tell her I think you're a beautiful woman. That I want to be the man to protect you in this evil world. I want to be the father of your children.”

  Alex laughed again, then he stopped laughing.

  “That's so insane it might just work!”

  “We have nothing to lose by trying,” he replied, “And I apologise in advance for what I'll say and do, just follow my lead and then we'll be upstairs and closer to guns and ammo - and then we have a chance to get out!”

  “You'd better be a good liar if you're going to say I'm a beautiful woman,” Alex said, “There's nothing feminine about me!”

  Mickey chuckled.

  “In my years of avoiding clashes with the law I've told many lies - convincingly,” he replied, “And if she still doubts us, I have plenty more bullshit I can pull out of my sleeve. Trust me. We can do this!”

  As the sun rose over the farmhouse, the thick brick walls at the back did not carry the sounds of scratching as the wandering dead clawed at the bricks until flesh peeled to bone. The low moans that sounded on the air were shut out by closed windows, and in the bedroom where River was waking, the curtains were closed. As she sti
rred from sleep, Chris was already up and dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting as she began to wake. He had laid beside her and held her all night as the wind had carried sounds that seemed different, almost as if the undead were out there, moaning and hissing and wheezing... but it had been a hard night and they were all shattered by Mickey's abduction. The walls were secure, the gate was locked, they were safe here...He heard her give that familiar sigh she made on waking and he reached out, tracing a fingertip down her cheek.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  “Sick, when I think about what I did yesterday... mowing down two people like a maniac, stabbing another to death in the hallway... the blood will still be there, all over the walls, it went everywhere!”

  She sat up and looked to the clock on the night stand.

  “It's almost eight am. I should get up and see if anyone wants breakfast – I'm pretty sure Joy won't want to eat until she knows Mickey's safe, but Poppy's just a kid, she needs food -”

  “And Sage can take care of that today,” Chris reminded her, “You went through a lot yesterday. Today, we should start packing up the vehicles. As soon as we get Mickey back, we're leaving.”

  River reached for his hands, grasping them gently as she spoke.

  “And where will we go? We thought we were safe here, and now Mickey could be dead! We have lunatics living just past the forest, and they won't stop at taking one of us. What makes you think the next place we go will be any safer?”

  Chris remained patient, hearing anxiety in her voice that had been present since the night before when she had been forced to do the one thing she had never wanted to do – kill other people, brutally.