‘They left in a hurry’ said Ben, wandering to the window and looking down onto the gravel driveway.

  ‘Maybe they were evacuated’ added Chris.

  Ben rubbed his stubbled chin. ‘Yeah. Or just taken.’

  Grumbling, Harry Skinner turned away and crossed the hall, peering in through the open doorway of the other bedroom. This was clearly a boy’s room, complete with posters of the England football team and last summer’s superhero blockbuster. Once more there were clear signs that the room had been left in a hurry, with open drawers and cupboards partially emptied of their contents. Harry sniffed and backed out through the doorway, almost knocking Cassie over (who had been shadowing his every move). He glared at her and huffed but the girl didn’t step aside.

  ‘Just...give me some room’ said the big man, turning away to lumber toward the end of the corridor. The others followed and Katie took the little girl by the hand.

  ‘Stay with me’ she mouthed.

  A smaller set of stairs led up to the third and final floor, containing yet another bathroom plus a toilet, linen closet and two bedrooms. It was outside the last bathroom that the group were reminded once more of the horrors that were part of their world now.

  ‘Smell that?’ Harry asked while leaning against the closed door. Ben nodded. It was the all too familiar stench of rotting flesh. Raising his axe, Ben readied himself for action while Harry turned the handle and slowly prodded the door open.

  ~ 14 ~

  Lying in a pool of congealed blood on the floor of the room was the naked, severely decomposed corpse of a woman. Her head had been bashed in, the skull broken apart in an act of extreme violence which had sprayed the walls with crimson. Beside the body was the offending weapon, a chunky glass vase caked with dried blood and bits of brain matter.

  Ben’s breath caught in his throat as the acrid stench hit him. He turned around, waving the others back before they could crane their necks enough to see past him. Only Harry, his face devoid of emotion, ignored the warning and moved forward into the room. His gaze wandered from the still figure to the broken frosted window and back again. It was clear to him that the woman had ‘turned’ and then been taken down in the most savage of ways.

  But Harry Skinner would never know that Carrie Byrne, an epilepsy sufferer, had panicked on the morning of the bombings and swallowed her own tongue. He would never know that she was already dead when her husband rushed home with their son and daughter and the sky began to rain red. And he would never know that the same man would be bitten three times before he lashed out and ended his wife’s existence for good. Screaming in pain, horror and shame, Frank Byrne had fled in panic with his children, unaware that his fate (and theirs) was already sealed. Incredibly, he made it five miles before losing consciousness for the last time. Even though they tried, his crying children were not able to revive him...

  Harry Skinner stepped over the woman’s corpse, disturbing three fat horseflies from a hiding place within the mouldering flesh. They buzzed past him, disappearing through the broken gap in the window, and his steely eyes followed them. The sky outside was cloudy now but the high vantage point gave an unrestricted view of the back garden and also the land beyond it. From the hedges at the rear a small wooded area led to a line of fences and there, further back, was a road.

  All was quiet.

  ‘This’ll do’ he said, turning back to the figure of Ben framed within the doorway. ‘We can clean this mess up later. For now I need more food.’

  At that exact moment a sudden but sustained noise rang out from some way off, a noise like hard rain on a tin roof.

  Ben stepped further into the room. ‘What the hell..? Christ, is that thunder?‘

  ‘No. Guns’ grumbled Harry. ‘Lots of ‘em, too.’

  Ben tilted his head. The big man was right; it was definitely the sound of multiple automatic weapons being discharged. The barrage reverberated for ten seconds during which he looked back out through the doorway at Katie, reading the concern in her eyes as she held on tightly to Cassie’s hand. The little girl glanced up at her too, searching her face for any kind of explanation. Cassie’s bottom lip began to tremble and at that point the salvo ended, only to be replaced with individual ‘pops’ for another five seconds before ceasing completely.

  ‘Half a mile away, over to the East’ growled Harry in his countrified tone. ‘No further away than that.’

  ‘So what’s the plan, then?’ asked Chris as the group reconvened in the kitchen. Harry ignored him and headed straight for the larder, finding a biscuit barrel which he opened and delved into while continuing to look for something more substantial.

  Ben leaned wearily against the wall. ’Look, we don’t know who was firing those shots. Could be good news, could be bad. All we can do is wait it out, recharge our batteries here and then decide what to do...’

  ‘Running and hiding’ mumbled Sarah, slumping over the work surface on the central island. ‘That’s all we ever fucking do.’

  Katie glared at the teenager while lifting Cassie up onto another worktop. She handed the little girl a chocolate bar which Cassie unwrapped immediately and attacked with gusto.

  ‘Eat it slowly’ warned Katie.

  Using all her willpower, the child lowered her eyes and reluctantly did as she was told. Then she broke off a tiny piece of chocolate and held it up to the mouth of her doll.

  ‘Come on Bella. Eat up...’

  At that moment Harry backed out of the larder with an armful of provisions. He moved toward the central island and dumped the items there, forcing Sarah to step back.

  Chris moved closer and stared at the haul while rubbing his chin. ‘There’s lots of rice. Plenty of sauces, too. If we can find a way to boil some water I can probably rustle up something pretty good.’

  Katie gave a puzzled look. ‘You’re gonna cook for us?’

  The youngster picked up a jar and twirled it. ‘Yeah, why not? Used to do the cooking at home all the time. Would’ve done it before now if I’d had the chance...’

  Katie shrugged and glanced at Ben. ‘Sexist’ he mouthed, with a wry smile. She smirked back at him and slowly wandered over to the kitchen window to look out into the back garden. Ben joined her seconds later as Chris continued to separate suitable ingredients from the pile while Harry worked on finding a way to cook them.

  ‘We’ll be okay, won’t we?’ whispered Ben, draping an arm over her shoulder and lowering his head to nuzzle her neck. Katie leaned back into him, noticing a smudge of grime on the back of his hand.

  ‘Mucky pup.’

  ‘I know’ he said. ‘I’ll have a cold bath later. Hmm, looking forward to it already...’

  Katie smiled again and her gaze drifted outside to the expanse of lawn and the thick hedge that bordered the farthest edge of the garden. Slowly, her tired eyes traced along the length of hedge from left to right.

  Then she saw it.

  A figure was crawling out from under the hedge, its scrabbling fingers digging into the grass as it slowly dragged itself forward. Katie gasped, making Ben look up and spot the figure too. ‘Harry!’ he shouted, ripping the axe from his belt. ‘We’ve got company!’

  Without hesitation the giant drew his machete and lumbered out of the room. Ben was hot on his heels, running to match the larger man’s huge strides.

  Harry reached the sliding doors that led to the conservatory and hauled them open. He bustled through the gap, rushing to open the outer doors just as the figure at the end of the garden began to clamber to its feet. The big man looked over his shoulder as the others filed into the conservatory behind him, fear etched into every one of their faces.

  ‘Stay ‘ere’ he ordered gruffly, glaring at Cassie until Katie snatched the little girl’s hand to prevent her following.

  ‘I’ll help’ said Ben, and Harry nodded to him before both men stepped outside and made their way onto the grass. Ben looked anxiously to the thick hedge behind the approaching figure, half-expecting to see it rustle with the arrival of more dead, sighing in relief when he realised that the thing was alone. Switching the axe from one hand to the other he took a couple of steps to the right, moving away from Harry. It was a deliberate ploy, designed to widen their angle of attack.

  It was then, with them barely ten feet away, that something completely unexpected happened. The intruder, a thin, dishevelled, ragged thing, suddenly dropped to its knees and collapsed in front of them. Groaning, it rolled over onto its back, and at that moment Ben decided to make his move. He rushed forward, the axe held high above his head. One strike, he thought. One strike should do it.

  But something made him stop.

  ‘Do it’ Harry grumbled from behind. ‘Do it now or I will.’

  Ben didn’t answer. His eyes were focused on the figure. There was something about it that wasn’t quite right; even more so than normal. Its clothes were ripped and it was caked in mud and blood from head to toe and its mouth was wide open.

  But it was breathing...

  ‘Hold on’ said Ben, lowering the axe. ‘He’s still alive.’

  ‘Huh?’

  Harry took a step closer and peered down at the body. Beneath the blood and grime was a dark-haired man dressed in filthy chinos and a black polo shirt. Sure enough, his chest was rising and falling with juddering breaths.

  ‘See that’ added Ben. ‘Those things don’t breathe. He’s not dead. He’s not one of them...’

  Harry flexed his fingers on the handle of his machete. ‘Look at all that blood. It’s just a matter of time. He must be infected...’

  ‘He might not be’ argued Ben, biting his lip, unsure how this scene was going to play out. ‘I’m not even sure that’s his blood.’

  Harry took another look and tried to find a visible bite mark. The stranger was, Harry guessed, in his thirties, but his face and body was smeared in so much grime that it was difficult to discern his features – and impossible to locate a wound.

  Harry huffed, frustrated. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  Using the toe of his boot, Ben jabbed the man’s ribs.

  ‘Hey’ he said. ‘Can you hear me?’

  The man winced and his eyelids flickered and slowly opened. His chin trembled as he looked up at the two silhouettes looming over him, one of which was particularly intimidating.

  ‘Are you bit?’ growled Harry, pointing at him with the machete, wasting no time in trying to determine the level of threat.

  The stranger gulped and shook his head. ‘N-no’ he said with an exaggerated gasp, clearly understanding the significance of the question. He tried to sit up but the edge of the blade on his chest stopped him from rising from the ground. ‘P-please’ he croaked in a thick Scottish accent. ‘We have to get out of here. They’re coming.’

  Ben looked at his giant colleague and then down at the stranger. Harry scowled and reluctantly lifted the weapon away while Ben extended his hand and the other man grabbed it. As he was hauled up from the ground the Scotsman saw Ben’s features properly for the first time and his tired eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘M-Ma-’

  The Scotsman started to say something but his legs had already begun to buckle. Harry and Ben quickly moved in and each grabbed an arm as the body slumped into unconsciousness. ‘What’d ‘e say?’ asked Harry, taking on the bulk of the weight. Ben shook his head slowly as together both men dragged him back toward the mansion.

  ‘No idea...’ he muttered in reply.

  When they got back Chris was waiting outside for them. Katie, Sarah and Cassie were still inside the conservatory, looking through the open doors as both men laid the stranger down on the gravelled area outside.

  ‘Has he been bitten?’ asked Chris, looking the figure up and down.

  ‘He said no’ replied Ben. ‘But it’s hard to tell.’

  Chris looked around and pointed to a coiled reel of garden hose hanging from a tap on the other side of the conservatory. ‘We could clean him up a bit with that.’

  ‘Good idea, Chris. Go get it.’

  While the youngster ran off to grab the hose Ben put his head inside the conservatory doors and asked Katie to fetch some towels. Katie nodded and disappeared with Cassie, making it into some kind of game for the little girl. Meanwhile, Sarah stayed where she was, staring blankly ahead like a pale waxwork figure.

  The man awoke with a loud gasp and sat bolt upright. The action was far too sudden and the room swirled wildly before he was able to compose himself enough to look around. He was on a sofa, dressed in a blue towelled robe of some kind. At first fuzzy, images of people around him gradually began to grow clearer.

  ‘It’s okay’ said one of the images, coming into focus as a blonde-haired woman. ‘You’re safe here.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked another voice, a much younger one. The man looked to his right to see a dark-haired little girl. Standing over her was the looming figure of the bearded man that he had met outside.

  ‘It’s Ashley. Ashley Layton’ answered the man, only then noticing that his hands were clean and that his hair felt damp.

  ‘We had to hose you down’ said the blonde woman. ‘Your clothes are drying out in the other room.’

  Ashley blinked and rubbed his eyes. ‘Where am I?’ he asked weakly. ‘Who are you people?’

  ‘I’m Katie’ said the blonde woman. Then she pointed to a couple of youngsters standing in the background, introducing them as Chris and Sarah. ‘This is Cassie’ she added, gesturing toward the smiling little girl, ‘and you’ve already met Harry and my husband Ben.’

  Ashley craned his head over his shoulder to see Ben standing behind the sofa, recognising him as the other man that he had met outside. His gaze lingered as it had done before, something that made Ben feel a little uncomfortable.

  ‘Where’d you come from?’ asked Ben, hoping to stop the man staring at him.

  Colour faded from Ashley’s face and he slowly looked down as recent memories flooded back. ‘I got away from them. They killed everybody else but I got away...’ Tears welled in his eyes and Katie handed him a damp flannel.

  ‘Here’ she said softly.

  As the man wiped his face Ben moved around to the front of the sofa. ‘We haven’t been here long but this place seems pretty secure. If we keep out of sight and stay on the upper floors then we should be okay for a while. You’re welcome to stay with us until we figure out what to do next.’

  Ashley drew the flannel away from his face and stared at Ben once more. ‘What about the soldiers?’

  Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, the room fell into deathly silence. Only seconds later but seeming much longer, Ben asked: ‘You’ve seen them?’

  Ashley put a hand to his aching temple. ‘That’s who I was talking about. That’s who I got away from. That’s who killed the others. I wasn’t talking about the dead ones. You must have heard those gunshots?’

  Chris stepped forward until he was alongside Katie. ‘Who are they?’ he asked, a quiver in his voice. ‘Who’s behind all this?’

  ‘Oh God’ said Ashley, looking into every face.

  Harry Skinner, quiet until now, began to seethe with impatience. ‘Tell us’ he growled, with a voice like rumbling thunder.

  Ashley gulped. ‘They’re ours. I mean, they’re British...’

  Standing furthest away, Sarah gasped and put her hands over her mouth while Harry leaned over until his face was inches away from the Scotsman’s. Very slowly and very clearly, he said: ‘You’d better tell us everything you know.’

  Harry stood up and took a step back as Ashley nodded and cleared his throat. Suddenly, a glass of water was being held out in front of him and he reached out to take it from Katie. As he tilted his head back he stared at Ben once more and for the second time Katie noticed.

  ‘Why do you keep doing that?’ she asked bluntly. ‘Why do you keep staring at Ben like that?’

  ‘Sorry’ said Ashley, wiping his mouth and looking down. ‘He just reminds me of someone back at the place where they were keeping us.’

  Ben’s heart began to beat a little faster. He took a deep breath and moved directly in front of the man, leaning over to take the empty glass from him. ‘This person’ he asked, his voice strained, ‘what was his name?’

  ‘Uh, it was Matt something. Yes, that was it. Matt...Reilly.’

  The two black-garbed soldiers dovetailed as they approached the thick hedge, the first one turning and putting his back against it while sinking down on one knee. As he swung his rifle around in an arc from left to right the second man (also armed) moved alongside him and dropped flat to the ground before finding a narrow gap to crawl through.

  Emerging on the other side, he hauled himself back up and made a clicking noise with his tongue to signal his colleague. The hedge rustled slightly as the other man found the same gap.

  Their features obscured by Kevlar masks and dark goggles, both men were soon together again on the other side of the hedge. One of them made a flurry of signals with his hand and pointed along a large area of lawn that had opened up to them. The other nodded.

  Together they slipped along each flank, rifles at the ready as they headed silently toward the huge mansion.

  PREY

  FOR THE

  DEAD

  BOOK THREE

  Prologue

  Matt Reilly stared down from the dirty second story window onto the debris-strewn car park below. A reinforced army bus had just chugged into life, the signal for a slow-moving group of around forty people to emerge from between two huge metal gates away to the right. Weary and forlorn, they boarded the bus one at a time, the last of them a blond-haired little boy whose farewell glance was lost behind the sharply snapping doors.

 

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