Road to London: City of the Dead

V
July 19th

The Bettle household was a pretty standard, upper-middle class Wiltshire dwelling. The family that had previously inhabited it (assumedly the Bettles or descendants of the Bettles) probably were in an incredibly comfortable position when it came to money, as was obvious by the multiple extensions, grand pebble driveway and exquisitely kept hedgerows. It would probably be over a month until the vegetation became so unseemly that it was apparent the Bettles were no longer in residence.

The luck of the draw had taken them to a country home, but Svetlana had heard James explaining to Katrina (who was the only one willing to actively pay attention) that there was a small village only about a mile down the road. Svet was anxious to get Nathan into a house where she could operate without James’ ridiculous driving and was glad that they had come to a country home first so as to cut out the process of choosing a suitable house.
As he was still unconscious, Conrad and Israel had to pull Nathan out of the land rover and carry him to the front door by his hands and feet. Svet shouted at them whenever Nathan’s head lolled to one side because if they weren’t careful the stitches would fall out and she’d need to do them all over again.

After crossing an island lawn the pair set Nathan down on the bonnet of a nice looking audi, taking extra care not to set off the alarm. They doubled back to the car, Israel and Conrad taking their respective sledgehammer and axe from the boot while James picked up Mildred from its slot in the driver’s seat door.
Although the only firearm the group had was Hiya-kō’s pistol (which Svetlana strongly felt should be in Conrad’s possession) they seemed to have done fine so far with the limited supply of melee weapons that they had accumulated in the eight days since they had left St. James’.

Eight Days

It felt like eight years. No that was wrong. It had to be. She counted in her head, then on her fingers. Sure enough the figure she came up with on the third-time-lucky was eight days. A ridiculous amount had happened since then. A preposterous amount. A horrible amount.
Svetlana tried hard to remember her life before then. The mental barrier was large and strong. She retreated obediently, it had obviously been put there for a reason. Snapping back to the world she saw Israel and Conrad standing either side of the front door, a large white door with a black iron knocker shaped like lion’s head. It would have been pretty on a more gothic or renaissance house but it really didn’t suite this place with its whitewashed brick walls and tacky looking window frames.

She watched apprehensively as Conrad tested the handle. Locked as expected. She knew what came next. Israel took a few steps back and (after a short pause) ran at the door, shoulder first. There was a high clicking sound as the tiny latch snapped in half and the door swung open slowly, making a low but quiet boom when it hit the wall on the inside.
Holding his hammer in front of his head like a flaming torch, he began to advance inside. He stopped, motioned for Conrad to follow him and then continued. Conrad rested his axe across his right shoulder, confident that if Israel was in front his assistance would not be necessary.

“I suppose I should go with them,” said James dully with a sigh.
Svet jumped a foot in the air, she hadn’t heard him come up behind her even though when she turned he was standing less than half a metre away. When she had settled down and her heart no longer felt like it was the size of a football she relied;
“No, please stay,”

James smiled, showing that he was glad that he might not have to get his hands dirty. He began whistling gently and looked back to the Land Rover (Svet following his gaze), upon the roof of which Latiwa and Katrina were talking quietly. Not whisper quietly but more... long day quietly.
“What do you think they’re chattin’ about?” asked James, more out of politeness than actual curiosity. His eyes were drifting again, this time to the vast green fields in the background.
“I have no Idea, they’re probably the two most different people I’ve ever met. So probably something completely irrelevant,”
“Well you know what they say...” James waited for Svet to acknowledge that she knew what they say by finishing the proverb (if you could call it that) before remembering that she probably wasn’t fully aware of English sayings. “Opposites attract...”

The two burst out laughing, attracting the attention of the other couple. Svet thought that they must have been laughing for a whole minute, their hysteria fuelled by the two girls’ puzzled faces. Then a noise from inside the house cut all laughter short. There was a scrabbling sound coming from just out of view, like someone descending a flight of stairs in a hurry.

The boys must have run into some trouble and were now making a hasty retreat.
But the thing that scuttled out of the door was not Conrad or Israel. Its gaunt face was pale and horribly wrinkled. The cruel mouth filled with yellow, blackening teeth was stretched wider than Svet thought was possible, almost ear to ear. Evil, utterly black little eyes were sunk deep into its face. They were watching us.

It was dressed in a flowered night shirt, which most likely used to have been white but now was tattered and grey with sweat. The thing was thin, so thin that it looked more like a starved dog than a human being. It was on all fours, its movements resembling those of a spider about to pounce on a fly.

And pounce it did. Baring its teeth and letting out a blood curdling sound that was definitely not possible for human vocal chords to produce. Before Svetlana knew what was happening James had pushed her to the ground and swung at the Dead’s head with all his strength. Mildred connected with its bottom jaw with a sickening crack. The blow was so powerful that the thing’s direction changed mid-air and it rolled across the grass, screaming and clutching its face.

James began encroaching, to give the finishing blow but it leapt to its feet, backtracking and keeping some distance between the two. It bumped into something and turned. The obstruction was Nathan’s unconscious body, entirely unawares that a filthy demon was glaring at him hungrily.

It looked back to James and Svet, then again down to Nathan. Before the two could do anything it had grabbed him by the shoulders and was dragging back to the house, to its lair where it would undoubtedly feast on its hard earned prize.

Svet screamed and ran after Nathan’s legs, which were being pulled surprisingly fast by the crooked beast. The thing let out a victory cry as it came to the door, swung it open and was about to scuttle back inside when the head of the hammer grabbed its temple. Israel’s swing continued until the head hit the door frame, its cargo stuck between a hammer and a hard place. Everything above its nose separated from the rest of its head, showering the immediate area in gore.

“HA!” exclaimed Israel, more than proud of his handiwork. The thing was still in an upright position, its hands around Nathan’s neck. The grip kept it from falling over which allowed Israel to examine his victim from multiple angles, before it eventually let go and fell backwards with a thud.
“Please tell me everyone fuckin’ saw that!?” his eyes were bright with pride and amusement and he didn’t even notice Svet’s shaking, which was more like convulsion than anything else. “Eh? Ah dead brill!”

He looked down at Nathan, who was unperturbed by the fact that he was now covered with brains and other nastiness. “What the hell is this? You guys were supposed to be looking after him!” This was it. Svet collapsed on the gravel and began bawling her eyes out. Not upset because Nathan had nearly been killed but not happy that he had been saved.

The group let her cry for however long was she needed, Svet was unsure. She hadn’t cried since they had left the school and the whole eight day’s events caught up with her in one fell swoop. She crawled into a ball and sobbed. Israel brought over Nathan and she latched onto him , hugging him like an oversized, blood soaked teddy bear.
When Israel felt she had cried enough, he continued with the celebrations. “I told him! He didn’t listen to me but I told him!”
“You told him what?” asked James, who was sat next to Svet, still partially in shock.
“I told him that places like this always have shooters!”

It was then that Svet and James noticed the large, back duffle bag slung across Conrad’s back. He took it off and laid it gently on the floor. Israel eagerly reached down, unzipped it and removed three long, slender brown and black objects from its belly. Svetlana stopped crying immediately, entranced by the weapons.

She had seen guns before, but those were rusting old Kalashnikovs that were used by local bodyguards and military police back in Russia. Probably made over thirty years ago those weapons had no pride, they had been passed down through hundreds of hands and yearned for the day that would be melted down into slag metal.

These on the other hand were beautiful. They looked handmade and were glossed to perfection. There were two identical shotguns, double barrelled in the American side-by-side fashion. The stocks were long and elaborate, with what looked like silver furnishings and an engraving that Svet couldn’t make out from this distance. The third weapon was rifle, it barrel tall and thin. The stock was similar to those of the shotguns but much thinned and longer. A telescopic scope rested atop its shaft, much grander than those on the Draganov sniper rifles that were carried by the Kremlin guards in their towers .

“We haven’t found any ammo yet,” said Conrad purposely “but we’ll look for some after we’ve got Nathan inside and the rest of the house has been checked.”
“Was there anything else inside?” asked Katrina. Svet was shocked by her and Latiwa’s sudden appearance, but concluded that they must have arrived sometime during the commotion and Svet just hadn’t noticed them.
“Nope, just this bitch out here...”

Svet watched, fighting the urge to heave, as Israel lifted the body up by one arm and looked into its ruined face. He let out a HA. “it looks like a fucking goblin!”
“Put her down!” Svet screeched, tears welling up in her eyes again. “That’s a per...”
“NO!” Shouted Israel, drowning out the word before she could say it. “Don’t you DARE say that this... this THING is a person!” His eyes were full of rage. His grip on the Dead’s wrist tightened and eventually the bone snapped, lurching the body slightly as the balance changed. “This is a fucking monster!” Svet noticed that Israel’s voice had changed. He had dropped the cockney accent and was now speaking in a way that seemed alien and unnatural for him.

He picked up the whole corpse roughly. Striding passed the rest of the group he stopped and turned when he reached the island lawn. He looked into everyone’s faces in turn and in turn they dropped their gazes to the floor. Nobody wanted to see him like this.

He took the broken arm with both hands, like a golf club. Then he took a short run up span, whirling the body around him as he did. He was planning to let go and send the thing (which appeared to weigh nothing at all) into the bushes. Instead the shoulder dislocated, then the joint shattered completely. The arm stayed in Israel hands, but the body flew through the air like a rag doll, spurting blood as it went. It missed the hedge and instead landed on the ground in a horrible contorted position, undoubtedly breaking more bones.

“YOU SEE THAT?” he challenged, “A person, cannot, do that!” Everyone was silent. Israel’s breathing was deep and irregular, bordering on hyperventilation. He sat down, facing away from the house and the group. With his head in his hands Svet decided that he was done for now, and that he would be back to his normal self shortly. As she helped Latiwa and Katrina carry Nathan inside, she realised that seeing a friend like that was much more frightening than any walking corpse.

As she walked passed James, who was holding open the door for them, she noticed him lean down to pick up Israel’s flesh strewn hammer. He held it for a while, appreciating its significant weight and Israel’s obvious strength in being able to wield it. Then he propped it up against the door frame, signifying than when Israel was ready to come inside and back to the group, he was welcome.