Empire's End

Forty-One / Feast

The buildings around Gaylen’s perimeter had united in a single inferno, a new wall made from fire that struck defiantly upward into the snowy sky. The storm had not relented, yet Jeff Cullen didn’t feel the cold; bathed in the warmth of the city, he watched without emotion as those who managed to make it through the fire were gunned down.

As the shots rang out and bodies pitched forward, other survivors were forced to turn back, to turn inward, where the city’s festering core was clotted with undead; throngs dragging the bodies of slain citizens to the amphitheater. There, the corpses were being piled twenty deep in anticipation of the great feast. The rotters could scarcely contain themselves as they looked over the sea of flesh; but the King’s guidance had brought them this far, and they would wait.

Those survivors still barricaded in buildings were either smoked out or pulled from safety, necks broken, limbs torn off, and their remains joined the rest. There was no shelter to be found from the undead.

Those with guns began committing suicide.

Dozens of gunshots rang out in the city center. Others, families trapped atop apartment buildings, leapt to their deaths, plummeting into the waiting arms of the predators.

Adam was working outward as he hunted down the undead. He missed the amphitheater entirely.

At dusk, the feast began.

Eviscerato stood atop the mountain of corpses and roared. His cry was picked up by ravenous followers, and one by one they threw themselves into the meat.

Nickel dragged a warm child to the stage where Eviscerato was perched. Taking the body in his arms, Eviscerato closed his lipless jaws over the child’s blue lips.

Outside the amphitheater, the Petrified Man looked up to see a new group approaching. Thin, desiccated rotters with a peculiar gait, exposed bones coated with frost, joints cracking as they shuffled through the snow.

The undead at the head of the pack nodded to the Petrified Man. “Good evening. Or morning, as the case may be,” it rasped in a hollow monotone. Reciting the speech that it had practiced for radio — for Senator Gillies — the Brit said, “On behalf of Prince George and the Prime Minister—”

The Brit paused and leaned forward, scrutinizing the Petrified Man. It lifted a monocle to its shriveled eyeball and, realizing it was addressing a zombie, said, “Hmm. Right.”

The Petrified Man knocked the Brit’s head off with an annoyed grunt. Then it set upon the other intruders.

Huddled in the church pulpit, Lily listened intently for any sign of her friend’s arrival. All she heard were faint booms, and the occasional scream.

Please let him be all right.

A window shattered.

Lily pulled her knees to her chest and froze, refusing even to breathe as glass tinkled gently on carpet, and tiny footsteps pattered across the floor.

The Dwarf leapt into view and splayed its little claws with a venomous hiss.

Lily shrieked and drove both feet into its chest, sending the rotter tumbling head over heels down the steps into the pews.

Lily threw herself at the back wall, searching frantically for a door. She didn’t want to run away where Adam couldn’t find her — as she had with Cam and the others — but she had to get out of here! There had to be a room where she could hide. She found only locked doors.

The Dwarf hobbled toward her, shaking its head vigorously. Eviscerato preferred the young meat, the soft virgin flesh — but this was all for the Dwarf, its own little feast.

Stumbling back from the rotter, Lily ran for the pews. She dove into the second row and began pulling herself along the floor, under the seats. She’d have to throw the monster off her trail, moving from row to row as it searched for her, and then double back to hide in the first row. Then it would give up, leave in search of easier prey… she hoped.

Adam! she silently screamed.

Broken fingernails scrabbled over carpet. She heard a soft grunting at her back, and chanced a glance: the Dwarf was crawling after her beneath the pews. Its horns scraped the undersides of the seats as it strained to reach her feet.

Lily kicked its hands away and got to her feet. She climbed atop the nearest pew and leapt to the next. She was going to have to leave. She had to get to the doors. I’m sorry Adam!

She leapt to the next pew — and the Dwarf rose up right in front of her, colliding with her and sending both of them kicking to the floor.

Lily screamed and thrashed about in the darkness. She felt its hands on her legs. Teeth snapped. She flailed her arms and caught one of its horns in her hand. The Dwarf squealed. Lily slammed its head into the seat of the pew, over and over again until she heard a wet squelch with each impact. Then she let go and ran for her life.

The Dwarf was right on her tail. It shook blood from its eyes and jumped at her, swiping at her ankles, making horrible little noises as it pursued her down the center aisle and finally snagged one of her feet. She crashed into the doors and fell still.

The Dwarf turned her over and straddled her, wrapping its tiny fingers around her throat. Lily murmured softly, eyelids fluttering. The Dwarf waited for her to look up into its pinched face.

She seized its ears in her hands and threw the Dwarf aside, rolling over and climbing onto it and smashing its head into the floor with a nightmarish scream. The Dwarf’s neck snapped, skull cracking, blood and pus spewing from its splitting skin as its head came apart and spat curdled brains across the carpet. Lily Stood up and leapt into the ruin of the Dwarf’s face with both feet, stomping it into oblivion. Its arms and legs continued to wiggle; she stamped on its wrists, shattering them, then twisted its ankles until they broke with a satisfying snap.

The Dwarf’s torso spasmed quietly. Lily wiped sweat from her brow and walked back to the pulpit. Her heart pounding in her ears, she didn’t hear the footsteps at her back; and, settling down in the shadows, her back was left to the approaching figure as it reached out.

“NO!”

“It’s me, Lily!”

Adam scooped her up into his arms. “Let’s go.”

“Did you kill them all already?”

“I can’t find the rest. It doesn’t matter — the city’s on fire. Let’s get you out of here.”

“What about my other friends?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Cam and Tripper and Officer Voorhees. We can’t leave them.”

“All right.” He helped Lily onto his shoulders, and headed for the doors. “But time is short.”

As they exited the church and mounted the horse, Nickel watched from an alleyway. He watched the way that the young one clung to the aberration’s neck and the gentle way he bore her onto his steed.

Rusty gears began turning in the zombie’s head.