Part 9 (2/2)

*Well, whichever one that was, we'll call it Stinky,' Charlie chuckled.

*And what do you want to be called, little lady?' Liz said, waving her fingers at the sow, who seemed to be deliberately ignoring her, until she turned and gave one of Liz's fingers a little nip.

*Ouch, you ratbag!' Liz yelped, sucking her nipped finger. *Right for that, that's just what we're going to call you. Charlie, Imran, meet Ratbag and Stinky.'

*Hardly ill.u.s.trious names for the new pig King and Queen of Lanherne,' Imran said, laughing.

Imran's laughter stopped abruptly as Charlie pulled Delilah to a stop. The sudden jolt sent another spasm of pain through Liz's head but at least this time she didn't blackout.

*d.a.m.n, Charlie you could've warned me,' Liz said, holding a hand to her head.

*Trouble,' was all Charlie said, his tone expressing the seriousness of the situation.

Imran moved quickly to the front of the cart to see what Charlie meant. Liz, following a bit slower, grabbed hold of various weapons hanging on the walls and roof to keep her balance. Looking through the front view slit, Liz could see a scenario that could only be described as c.r.a.ppy. They had reached a curve in the road. To one side stood a small dilapidated cottage, its roof and one of the outside walls completely missing. Ivy covered nearly the whole cottage inside and out, making it look like a small green hillock. It even had a small tree growing in front room. In front of the overgrown cottage in a sloping driveway, were three carts similar to their own, one of which had been overturned and broken to pieces. In front of each lay the decaying carca.s.s of a horse, their reins still tied to tethering posts. These animals had obviously starved to death, unable to move away once their human masters had come back as the Dead. But the real problem, milling around aimlessly, just waiting for live flesh to give purpose to their Dead existence, were thirty of the Dead in various states of decay. This in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but to add insult to injury, the road just ahead of them crossed the tracks of a train line and the barrier gates were down. To cross they would somehow have to open the gates. There was no way to go around the gates, as they were flanked on both sides by the high hedgerows and Charlie knew this was the only route they could take to get to the O'Briens.

*The gates didn't used to be down,' Charlie whispered, *Someone's done this on purpose.'

*So what are we going to do?' Imran asked.

*Why don't we just go out there and clear the Dead, there's only ten each,' Liz said *No, not in the state you're in, you'd be a liability,' Charlie said, putting a stop to that plan straight away.

Liz didn't argue though, she knew she was hardly up to her usual fighting standard. Having to hang onto a club on the wall just to stay upright, proved that.

*Well, we just have to draw them away, while someone opens the gate manually,' Liz said.

*I think it'll take both me and Imran at the same time to s.h.i.+ft that gate's counter weight,' Charlie said, thinking out loud while rubbing the stubble on his chin with the back of his hand. *Right, this is what we're going to do. We'll make loads of noise here and just when they get to us, we let Delilah bomb her way to the gate, Imran you can take off any straggling Dead on the move can't you? Anyway, we jump out, open the gates and Bobs your uncle, we're off before the rest of them get to us.'

*I don't know Charlie, it's a bit risky,' Liz said.

*I know, but what's life without a risk or two,' Charlie replied, grinning *...and anyway we've got no choice'

*How about I just pick off as many as I can before we make a dash to the gate, that'll make it safer for us,' Imran said.

*Ok... that's the plan then,' Charlie said, nodding.

Taking Delilah's reins, Liz slowly exchanged places with Charlie, while Imran grabbed the full quiver of arrows hanging on the wall.

*Ready?' Imran asked, his hand hovering over the handle of the top hatch.

With a nod from the other two, he flipped the hatch open, an arrow already poised against the string of his bow. With the usual tw.a.n.g the first arrow flew, striking a decrepit woman in the back of her head. As her rotting corpse crumpled to the ground, some of the other dead slowly turned in the direction of the cart. A dead woman dressed in a gore covered dressing gown was the first to step towards them. The skin and most of the flesh on her cheeks had been torn away, revealing her black teeth and a slug like tongue. Stretching her mouth impossibly wide, she began a low moan. As if it was a call to arms, the rest of the Dead turned to face them. Once they saw Imran, his torso standing proud of the hatch, each of them let loose their own cry and began, with shuffling steps, the short journey to the flesh, they so desired. In quick succession two more arrows flew, two more of the Dead fell lifeless. Then as two of the Dead b.u.mped into each other, Imran missed a target, his arrow landing harmlessly in the sunken chest of a woman dressed only in her underwear. The woman, oblivious to the arrow sticking out from her chest, stepped on the trailing entrails of a Dead man in front of her, causing him to fall forward. She then in turn fell on top of his struggling body as they both tried to right themselves. More arrows flew and one by one each found their targets. As more of the Dead fell to the ground lifeless, some of those still walking tripped over them. Until they righted themselves, Imran couldn't really get a good angle to fire on them, so he chose other targets.

Only fifteen metres away from them now, Imran had only put down a third but he could not think about the numbers. With smooth, practiced motions he pulled an arrow from the quiver, placed it against the bow string, pulled back, aimed and released. The arrow flew, puncturing the eye socket of a Dead man with most of the flesh missing from his chest.

*s.h.i.+t,' Imran whispered under his breath.

The arrow had not gone deep enough and the mutilated man still carried on his shuffling march towards them. Again an arrow flew, this time meeting its target. Before the man's body even hit the ground another was joining him, an arrow sticking out of the side of this one head. The woman with the torn face had finally got to her feet again, just in time for an arrow to slam into her forehead. Instantly she fell lifelessly back down, trapping the man with the dragging intestine beneath her. Even as he struggled to push her off his back, he still reached desperately to the cart that held the promise of flesh, blood and bone.

*Tell me when,' Liz said, her hands shaking slightly as she held tight to the reins.

*Try to clear a few more of them that are in front of Delilah. I don't want to chance her getting any sc.r.a.pes,' Charlie said, watching the action through the front view slit.

A small, ancient looking woman, her skin rotten and paper thin had almost reached the point where she would have to brush past Delilah to get to the cart.

*Imran!' Charlie called to archer.

*I see her,' he replied and let fly an arrow.

At such close range the arrow tip burst through the back of her bald head. For a split second the old hag stood swaying on her feet before she crumpled to the ground. Delilah, not liking the action at such close quarters began to stamp her front hooves and snort.

*Right, I think it's about time,' Charlie said, placing a hand on Liz's shoulder.

With a firm flick of the reins and a yell, Liz urged Delilah forward. Not needing to be told twice Delilah broke into a run. A few of the Dead were knocked aside as Delilah ploughed through the crowd. Liz tried her best to ignore the pain that shot through her head, as the cart b.u.mped over bodies and shattered limbs. Stinky and Ratbag squealed in annoyance at the motion jostling them about inside their crate. Within what seemed like seconds, the cart was pulling up to the gates. Immediately Charlie and Imran jumped out of one of the side hatches. They ran to the first gate blocking their path. Already the Dead that were left standing had begun to follow them back towards the gate. The gates that would normally have been electrically operated had a counter weight near the outside of the post that had to be moved by force.

*Push down here,' Charlie shouted to Imran, throwing his weight on the concrete block.

Already the moans of the Dead were getting closer. As Charlie and Imran forced the block downwards the first gate slowly began to rise. Liz Looked behind her at the Dead, it was going to be close. Then over from the cottage a crash sounded. Glancing in that direction Liz was horrified to see more of the Dead clambering through the broken sh.e.l.l of the cottage, called to dinner by their comrades in death. The moaning increased in volume as the new Dead stumbled their way through the overgrown garden, past the corpses of the horses and on towards the exposed Charlie and Imran.

*Hurry!' Liz shouted, *We've got more coming from the right!'

Just then the first gate clicked into its vertical position and with an urgent flick of the reins Liz moved Delilah forward onto the track. Only when she was there could she see just how the Dead had found themselves in this remote part of the Cornish countryside. Down the track, some fifty metres away, an old rusting steam engine lay on its side. Behind it two broken and shattered carriages had been pulled off the tracks, as the engine had derailed. Liz had no idea where they had come from or where these rail riding Out-posters had intended to go. At the moment she really didn't care. Imran and Charlie were struggling with the second gate. Straining to force the weight down, Charlie called to Liz *As soon as there's room, get that thing through, OK!'

Liz's head spun back and forth, watching the Dead behind them getting closer all the time as the gate rose slowly inch by inch.

*Come on, come on,' she repeated over and over to herself, willing them to raise the gate in time.

The Dead had already reached the back of the cart, she could hear their hands slapping against the wood. They weren't going to make it, she was sure of it. Reaching over to the side hatch she slammed it closed, just as a Dead figure with one side of its face missing, came into view.

*Come on!' she screamed, frantic that Imran and Charles were now only a few metres away from the large crowd of the Dead.

*Now!' Charlie yelled.

The gate, although not totally upright, it was at an angle steep enough that the cart should just fit under. Liz yelled loudly for Delilah to go, hoping the horse would hear her over the moans of the dead. As Delilah pulled the cart level with Charlie and Imran, Liz could see the strain in their faces as they tried to keep the gate raised high enough for her to pa.s.s under. With a loud sc.r.a.ping noise, the cart just made it underneath. As soon as the end of the cart was through, Charlie and Imran let go of the gate counter weight. With a bang the gate fell back into place, trapping two of the Dead beneath it. Knowing not to push their luck, Charlie and Imran jumped over the waist high gate and ran for the cart. Two of the Dead had managed to come through as the cart had pa.s.sed. One was still pounding on the back hatch, desperate to get in, while the other was trying to lift itself up off the road on thin bony arms. With a smooth motion, Charlie took the sheath from his wrist knife and punched the walking cadaver in the back of its head. Then with barely a pause, he aimed a kick at the Dead man on the ground. His boot connected with the head with such force the neck broke, vertebrae jutting out through grey decaying skin.

*Get in!' Liz screamed, kicking open the side hatch.

Glancing behind them she could see some of the Dead that were climbing over their fallen comrades and falling this side of the gate *Now!'

Charlie and Imran ran to the cart, throwing themselves through the hatch.

*Go!' Charlie shouted, landing next to the crate of piglets.

Imran barely had a chance to get his feet all the way in, before Liz flicked Delilah's reins and yelled for her to go. As they sped away from the train line, the pa.s.sengers were once again jostled around in the back of the cart. Even at speed Liz still had to try to steer Delilah around the worst of the pot holes in the road. A broken wheel now would be disastrous and probably fatal. Now that the Dead had seen living flesh escape in this direction, they would tirelessly put one foot in front of the other in pursuit of the meal that had eluded them.

After five minutes of running Delilah at high speed through the small winding lanes, Liz began to let her slow down. They should have put enough distance between themselves and the Dead now, and there was no point tiring Delilah out, as they still had to reach the O'Brien's place before dark.

*Right I'll take over from here,' Charlie said, tapping Liz on the shoulder, *You go rest a bit. All this b.u.mping around can't be good for your headache.'

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