IV. THE IRONY OF HOPE

Ransom glanced furtively over his shoulder as his group charged through the blood and mist slick streets of Port Romance. A thick fog billowed in from the tumultuous Oceanus Iraë, and veiled the city in a dense grey mist. The sun had just begun to rise, giving a slight glow to the otherwise dark and dreary streets. He stumbled over a ruined barricade and scrambled around a corner. The central urban neighborhoods, usually bustling with activity even in foul weather, lay eerily deserted. He had hoped that the old Morlock had lied, but the growing horde behind them and desolate streets did not bode well for that theory.

Behind the group, ravenous snarls and growling of the reanimated townsfolk in close pursuit hounded them, as more denizens of dusk burst from their hiding places with the prospect of a meal. The city had over one-hundred thousand residents, and it now seemed that all of them were undead.

He slashed at a lost soul that attempted to bar their path as the group sharply rounded a corner into another alley. Undead fell onto the street from windows and spilled out of doorways, slowly the aimless shambling mob had them surrounded. He swore and frantically searched for an exit. Behind him, Alice weaved a series of gold runes in a cats-cradle with her hands as she breathlessly spoke her incantation. With a skip, she spun and flung the net behind them, erecting an intertwined network of electrified tendrils to halt their pursuers. She quickly slid to a stop as a wall of undead met her.

“Can you do anything about them too?” Ransom wheezed.

“Maybe.”

Alice weaved an intricate double glyph of orange, yellow and red. The glyph popped and sizzled in her hands as she continued to layer more and more intricate symbols. As she breathlessly muttered her incantations, the horde continued to advance.

Ransom cursed and took up a defensive stance, but Fiora held him back. He looked to Donough, but he too seemed content to wait. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, Alice unleashed a squall of fire and lightning from her hands. Both immolating and electrocuting the gnashing undead before them. When the spell was completed, the horde was little more than a mess of smoking and charred flesh, collapsing into molten husks of ash and cinder. Ransom turned to offer his praises to the young mage, but the spell had left her drained, and she collapsed into Fiora’s waiting arms. Alice leaned heavily on Fiora as the undead continued to fling themselves upon the electric net behind them.

“Keep running,” Séverin whispered to his sister. “I’ll be right back.”

“What?” Maleah screamed as he broke off from the group. “Where the hell are you going?”

Séverin leapt up onto a trash can, shimmied up a fire escape across the alley, and scrambled across the roof before anyone had a chance even to acknowledge him. He effortlessly vaulted over dormers and smoke stacks at a breakneck pace before he hurled himself across an alley and disappeared over a rooftop.

“Where the hell is he off to?” Ransom barked.

“I don’t know!” Maleah stumbled over a collapsed barricade as she attempted to track her brother’s movements.

Tendrils of lightning shot off in all directions as the sound of sizzling air broke the monotonous drone of the undead. A new wave of enemies jostled their way through the alley towards the group, Alice’s net had failed. Within moments the horde was upon them again. Ransom hacked and slashed as he slowly retreated into an alleyway. Beside him, Donough attempted to cover the undead crawling out from second and third story windows with strikes from his massive blade and bursts of flame from his palm. The fire did little to halt the undeads advance, and the group found themselves being funneled into a chokepoint and surrounded.

Alice launched several bolts of lightning from her fingers, each one weaker than the last. Her skin was paler than usual, and she was drenched in sweat. Donough lifted Alice and carried her under his arm as he led the group through the labyrinth of streets and alleys. Ransom cursed and looked back to the approaching horde. Several undead staggered to their feet or dragged themselves along the pavement, singed from Donough’s flames or bearing the marks of sword and dagger in their fetid flesh. they appeared to be endless, unstoppable, like roaches upon carrion.

Ransom took off after Donough, weaving blindly through streets and alleys in an increasingly futile attempt to evade their pursuers. back over his shoulder at the commotion to see if she was all right. Another frantic glance over his shoulder revealed the undead had become a writhing wave of decaying flesh, surging through the streets in search of prey like flood waters in a ravine after heavy rain. Ransom, with lungs afire, dug deep and quickened his pace, ditching his satchel and cloak.

Ransom managed to overtake Donough, who still carried Alice under his arm, and led the group down a side street. They had been disoriented, but hopefully, they would be able to double back to the port. As he rounded another corner, several knives impaled two undead that burst from a side alley doorway. Beside him, Maleah raised her lance in surprise; there would have been no way for her to defend herself in time. Ransom skid to a stop on the slick pavestones. A hulking monstrosity lumbered into their path. Its face was owl-like; its wide eyes gleamed as gems set in obsidian while it dragged its massive knuckles along the ground, towering above them and the nearby three story residences.

“Aw hell…” Ransom lowered his sword in resignation.

Three knives struck the beast from the side; it raised its arms and howled in anger as Séverin leapt from the rooftops, landing on the beast’s neck blades first. He dug his daggers deep into the base of the beast’s neck as it thrashed violently. Using one blade as an anchor, he managed to dig a hole in the creature's hide and began to stab furiously at the flesh and tendons underneath. With an anguished roar, the creature collapsed to one knee and fell face first onto a market stall. Séverin dismounted with a front flip off the behemoth's back and wiped the blood from his face, his arms and torso were completely soaked in the bright red blood.

“That way is cut off…” Séverin calmly stated as he retrieved his throwing knives from the carcass.

Maleah stepped back and ramed a booted foot through a door. Her foot smashed through, but the door remained on its hinges.

“Shit!” she wrenched her leg free with some effort and proceeded to bash away at the rest of the door with her lance. “There, there’s your hole.”

“Let’s go then.” Taryn shoved Madden towards the door. “C’mon big boy.”

“Who’s ta say this ain’t some one-way rabbit hole?” Madden gestured frantically towards the direction of the horde. “What if those, things corner us in there?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Then we’ll plug the hole with your big ass now get in there!” Ransom ordered.

Fiora pushed past the bickering and fearful Madden with an irritated huff, leading the way through a dilapidated low rent hotel. The others followed her path through narrow hallways in single file. As they reached the lobby, several loitering undead looked up, a savage glint in their dead eyes. With a shout of frustration and fear, Fiora slashed and shoved at the undead, only for more to pour out from every nook and from around every corner.

Alice, still cradled under Donough’s arm, used levitation spells to knock over anything and everything behind them in an attempt to confound or delay their pursuers, but it was to no avail. The forward progress came to an abrupt halt as a swarm of undead piled in through the open front door and shattered bay window. Ransom shielded Emarosa as he and Fiora attempted to push forward, but were forced to retreat from the growing horde. Eventually, they were pushed back far enough to bump into Donough and Maleah, who were similarly driven back by the horde behind. They were caught in a pincer.

“I’m outta arrows!” Taryn shouted as she drew her khukuri knife. “Not like it was doin’ much anyhow.”

Madden barreled past Fiora yelling like a madman, using his Axe and his bulk to bowl over the undead and open a path. Without a moment's hesitation, the group followed his lead as the path quickly began to close. The group spilled out onto the streets, surrounded once more. Ransom began searching for another direction to flee, but had no idea where they were or how to get back to the wharves. As more indeed spilled out onto the streets, Donough smashed the door frame with his sword and torched the hotel with a great plume of fire. The frontage of the hotel collapsed as the firecaught on the buildings old timber, creating a temporary stoppage of the undead.

“By the Dawn—” Ransom ducked as flaming debris crashed around them. “What the hell!”

“Now the bastards can’t follow us.” he shrugged and set Alice back on her feet. “di’nae see ye doin’ much of use.”

Something howled off in the distance as the flames engulfed the hotel and began to spread to adjacent stores. Ransom wiped the sweat and grime from his face on a handkerchief, pointing an exasperated finger at the indifferent Donough.

“I picked you for this mission cuz you seemed like the type that wouldn’t just go around settin' shit on fire.”

“Fire kills the blighters; thus, we’ve now got an effective barrier. Or would you rather we continue to run aimlessly through the streets like terrified children?”

“It also lets them know exactly where we are!”

“Now’s not the time for bickering!” Alice shouted with a stamp of her foot. “The blaze will likely slow them, but they’ll break through eventually. They don’t seem to feel pain.”

“Fine, but I wasn’t aimless, I know exactly where we are and where we’re going.”

Maleah raised her arm to shield herself from the inferno and brush her matted, violet bangs from her eyes. “Where the hell are the docks?”

Ripples went through a puddle of blood and rainwater as the ground shook ominously. The company went silent as the stillness around them became painfully obvious. The only sound was the crackling of flames and a distant rumbling, as the heavy footfalls seemed to draw closer. They exchanged confused and worried glances as they slowly began to huddle together. The sound of a far-off horn rumbled in the distance, causing Alice to jump and shriek with a start. They strained their ears and listened again, though none could pinpoint the location.

“Now what?” Fiora brushed away the wisps of brown hair from her face.

The undead that had previously surrounded them had fled. Ransom managed to catch sight of two scurrying into the darkness of an alleyway. Ransom whistled to Fiora and motioned for her to be on guard. Fiora swore and tucked her sword under her arm as she fumbled vainly for several moments trying to pin her hair up in anticipation for the worst. The horn sounds again, louder this time, accompanied by the audible thud of a large beast traipsing across cobblestone. Her hands shaking, Fiora managed to use her own hair as a tie, and put it up in a messy bun. She readied her sword and took up a position in front of Alice as she scanned the streets for the source of the noise.

“We’re getting the ‘ell outta ‘ere is what.” Madden grumbled as he picked up a small table and used it to smash through the windows of a now derelict café.

“Oi! Genius, why di’n' ya jus’ break down the bloody door?” Taryn jerked her head in the direction of the burning hotel. “Besides, what good is a glass box gonna do against that lot?”

“I don’ see you comin’ up with any good ideas!” He snapped as he flung the table to the ground.

“Will you two be quiet!” Alice snapped. “Those, things will hear us and come this way!”

Maleah and Séverin made their way past Madden and Taryn into the café, soon followed by the rest of the company. No sooner had everyone piled into the modestly sized café, Madden and Ransom set about barricading the entryway. Alice levitated the counter in front of the broken window, and set about piling bookcases and sofas on top of it while Fiora rolled tables on their ends to be stacked against the door.

Taryn and Madden took a seat and they caught their breath once the task was done. Maleah leaned her lance against the wall and scavenged the cases of stale pastries. Fiora, having finished her task, took a seat as Alice lit a fire in the fireplace. They sat in silence for several moments as several more trumpet blasts sounded. After a while, all was still and ominously silent, only the rumble of heavy footsteps reminded them of the bleakness of their situation.

“How far are we from camp?” Donough asked as he joined Fiora by the fire.

Ransom peeked through a slit in the window barricades. “I don’t know, but I think we lost those things for now.”

“I think we can agree that they’re zombies.” Madden grunted as he stood to check their barrier.

“An’ how would you know what a zombie is, country boy?” Taryn teased, her hands trembling as she scooted herself closer to his hulking frame.

“I seen’t ‘em before.” Madden said matter-of-factly. “Well, one at least. I got a job on the edge of the hinterlands once; saw this thing, a man like them ones out there; dead and at least a year decayed walkin’ ‘round as if it weren’t nothing at all.”

Taryn shuddered and clutched his arm. Silence fell upon them again, broken only by the crack of timber of the raging fire across the street.

“Still… I think we would be best off if we waited it out here for a bit.” Ransom checked the street from behind the barricade. “There are far too many for us to handle alone. One hundred thousand people lost their lives in this city, and one hundred thousand people fell under that Morlocks spell to kill us.”

“What about Cookie?” Maleah made a face of displeasure as she crunched on a stale cinnamon roll.

“The horse is fine Maleah.” Séverin snapped. “Stop eating those, we don’t know how long it's been there.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Cookies going back to camp, I’m certain someone will notice her when she shows up at the stables begging for grain and I’m nowhere to be found. Do you think Aichlan would allow another search party?”

“Lord Aichlan would never abandon us!” Emarosa blurted, tears forming in her hazel eyes. “We need only hold out for a few hours, and he shall come for us himself, that’s just the type of man he is.”

“Ay don’ know ‘em personally, but I heard o’ his pa.” Madden he tossed a scrap of wood into the fire. “Let’s hope the apple didn’t fall far from that tree.” .

Ransom clapped once and rubbed his hands together. “How about some coffee then?”

Alice glared at Ransom as if he had gone completely mad. “Do you even realize what you’re asking?”

“Of course.” Ransom gestured towards the espresso machine still standing on the back bar. “You know how to work them don’t you?”

The ground shook again as another howl pierced the silence; weapons were drawn as the source of the sound was nearly on top of them. They stood in tense silence, only Ransom seemed unconcerned. The sounds had steadily grown closer, and it appeared to be coming from more than one source.

“Put ‘em away, won’t do us any good in here anyway.” Ransom said through a cloud of smoke.

The group reluctantly sheathed their weapons and took their seats on the cold tile once more.