Zombiekill by Russ Watts Page A

brought out a bucket and thrown it on the ground then gone back inside. That was it. That was all he had seen. Had it been Attwood clearing away garbage? Nobody really knew if Attwood was married, but rich people usually had friends, so it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility to imagine he had friends or relatives with him. It may have been a cook or servant throwing away dirty water. Whoever it was and whatever they were doing, there was nothing to suggest anything sinister was going on, and Schafer checked out how they would gain access. The high walls would be impossible to cross, and though the small moat could be crossed carefully, he could see some zombies had fallen in. They splashed around in the water, unable to climb the slippery banks out, and others wandered outside the walls, perhaps looking for a way in. The dead were thinner out there and more closely compacted in the town’s residential area where Jeremy’s house was. The only way in was to announce their presence and knock. Laughable though it felt, it was the only way.
    There was a small roadway over the moat—which was no more than a glorified ditch—and it led to a building resembling a small warehouse. It adjoined the high walls and visibility was poor. Schafer imagined the outer door could be raised to let in vehicles, and they were just going to have to go and ask to be let in. Whilst Jeremy and Lyn had told them that Attwood was slightly eccentric and obnoxiously rich, there was nothing that Schafer had heard to suggest he would turn them away. He had not made his money selling weapons to terrorists or by investing in hedge funds. He was a human, a man, and Schafer knew Rilla was right. He would help them, and now he knew how to get there.
    “We all good here?” Lyn approached Schafer and Jeremy holding her daughter’s hand. “Everything ready?”
    Jeremy nodded but said nothing.
    “Yes, everything is ready.” Schafer noticed that Victoria looked nervous. It wasn’t usual for her not to be smiling or laughing, and she clung to her mother’s side. Schafer bent down so his eyes were on the same level as hers. “What do you think, Vicky? You all set? This is just a vacation. It’ll be fun, just—”
    “Thanks, Schafer, I’ve got it,” said Jeremy stepping in front of him.
    With Jeremy blocking his way, it was clear that Schafer wasn’t welcome. Lyn began fussing and cooing over her daughter, telling her to pull up her socks and ensuring she had her bag packed, as if she were about to head off to school.
    “Ja. Okay.”
    Schafer began walking to the wall, feeling Jeremy’s eyes digging into his back. Even now there was a lack of trust between them. Perhaps the men knew that if it came to it, both would sacrifice the other, even their families, if it meant living. Both kept trying to take the upper hand, but they were locked in a stalemate, thrusting forward pawns in search of an answer, only to find their way blocked.
    “Problem?” Rilla zipped up her light blue jacket. Even though it was warm, she wanted to take it with her, knowing there was every chance she was going to spend another winter in Peterborough. She carried a bag on her shoulders, as they all did, but kept her arms free. She held the brass base of a lamp in her hands, its cord and shade removed so as to allow her to move it freely if needed. They had had to improvise when it came to defending themselves, fashioning crude weapons out of whatever they could lay their hands on. Jeremy had no guns in the house and only a couple of large knives which he and Lyn held.
    “No, it’s fine, they’re coming. Just a little nervous.”
    “Nervous? I’m scared as hell.” Rilla drew in a breath and then puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. The wall they were about to cross was the point of no return. They had packed as much as they could take with them and were going to end up at Attwood’s house. Rilla was excited, pleased at the knowledge they were finally taking