‘Here, let me,’ Jones said, and he squeezed past Barton to get through. Barton helped himself to an apple as he watched Jones explore, the little man’s movements hard to discern in the gloom.
‘He was a proper little tea-leaf, by all accounts,’ he said to Wilkins who was now standing just behind him. ‘Been straightened out by the war, has Jones.’
‘Then let’s hope he can find us a way out of here,’ Wilkins said quietly, feeling his way along the shelves to his right. He found this an awfully depressing place. The body of the woman upstairs, combined with Harris’ unnecessary death, had affected him quite badly. The cruelty of Polonezköy appeared to know no bounds, and they were yet to find the cold heart of this place. He dared not imagine what would be waiting for them there. For now he occupied himself with thoughts of the prisoners forced to work in this kitchen; preparing feasts for their captors whilst they themselves starved. This war was inhuman on so many different levels…
‘Got it!’ Jones announced from up high. ‘There’s a window up here. It’s not huge, so you might have a problem getting your belly through it, Barton.’
‘Watch yourself, Jones,’ he warned.
‘Looks like someone covered it from outside once they’d got through.’
‘Then let us get through and we’ll see if we can find them,’ Wilkins said. ‘Lead the way.’
Jones did as he was told, and after much wriggling and holding of breath, he was soon through and standing on the other side. The window, although high on the pantry wall, was only just above ground level. He found himself in an enclosed courtyard about the size of half a football pitch.
‘Give us a hand, Jones,’ Barton hissed, and Jones obliged and helped pull his colleague through the narrow window and out into the open. Wilkins passed Barton’s kit through, then his own, then climbed through himself.
‘Well done, Jones,’ he said. ‘Where now?’
They were looking around for doorways and passages, when someone whistled from across the way. Barton looked up and saw a light flashing in a window halfway up a tower directly opposite them. There was a door at the bottom of the tower which he moved quickly towards.
‘Careful, Barton, it might be a trap,’ Jones said.
‘I’d have expected Jerry to take pot-shots at us rather than invite us up for a chat, wouldn’t you?’
He led the others up a short staircase, his rifle held ready, just in case.
‘It’s about time you chaps turned up,’ an instantly familiar voice said. It was Sergeant Steele. He was sitting on a landing, eating a veritable feast he’d half-hitched from the kitchen on his way through. He offered his food and drink to the others.
‘How the devil did you get here?’ Wilkins asked.
‘I’m guessing you three found another way into the castle. I’m afraid I inadvertently blocked the passage I found.’
‘We had noticed.’
‘I managed to get myself followed by more than a few of those damn things but I outsprinted them and was able to stop them getting through. I found myself in the kitchens and looked for another way out. I didn’t much fancy trying to descend any deeper. Not alone, anyway.’
‘A wise move,’ Wilkins said.
‘I thought I should stay put. This tower’s relatively central, and there doesn’t seem to be as many of them around here. I wondered if you’d find my escape route. Where’s Harris, by the way?’
Jones shook his head sadly. Steele nodded, but said nothing. Harris wasn’t the first colleague he’d lost, and he knew he’d almost certainly not be the last.
‘I take it you’ve done a recce?’ Wilkins asked. ‘Is there a way out, or are we trapped here?’
‘Oh, we’re not trapped,’ Steele told him. ‘But we might as well be.’
24
The bodies were mounting up.
Less than forty troops had brought down treble that number of advancing undead creatures. They were finally starting to thin out, stumbling onto the airfield in dribs and drabs now. Some were little more than withered husks, the reanimated remains of locals. Others, however, had once been soldiers, and despite having lost every shred of humanity, the urge to maim and to kill remained. They dragged themselves along until they saw one of the Americans when the scent of the living seemed to reinvigorate them, transforming them from mindless shambling shells to brutal killers in seconds.
Half of Captain Hunter’s men were still fighting back their unnatural attackers, the other half removing the debris of battle from the airfield. Men moved quickly in pairs, picking up corpses by the hands and feet, then carrying them over to near the hangar and leaving them in a pile. Hunter thought he’d like to torch the grotesque mound and keep throwing more and more of the bastards on top of the heap, but the flames would inevitably attract even more of them.
Sergeant Hennessy was unrecognisable. Dripping with blood. Panting with effort. Steam rose from his sweat-soaked body. ‘I think we’re there, Captain,’ he said, breathless.
‘I think you’re right, Hennessy. Clear the decks, hold the perimeter, and keep the damn noise down.’
25
Steele had explored the tower while he’d been waiting for the others. His logic had been sound: from his relatively central vantage point he would have been able to see them coming from various angles, and having the benefit of the high ground meant he would have been able to defend himself had the need arisen.
‘If the scientist is still alive, I think I know where he is,’ he explained as he led the others deeper into the castle.
‘Are you sure this is safe?’ Wilkins asked as they climbed more steps.
‘As sure as I can be. I’ve not yet come across any of the dead this high. That’s not to say they won’t be up here, so keep your wits about you. This is just about the vilest place on Earth, from what I’ve seen of it, sir.’
At the top of the staircase, Steele took them out through a door and onto a short walkway which connected this tower to another identical one, either side of the main entrance. The wind up here was bracing, and carried with it sounds of fighting in the distance. ‘Captain Hunter and his men?’ asked Jones.
‘I assume so,’ Wilkins replied. ‘Damnation. It sounds like they’re having as torrid a time as we are.’
‘Then let’s keep moving, Lieutenant,’ Steele said. ‘Time is most definitely of the essence tonight.’
Jones hesitated. ‘Wait… Listen…’
‘What is it, Jones?’
‘More of the dead, I think. Down below us.’
He was right. The men peered down over the battlements. From here they could see the edge of another vast area of the camp. More dead soldiers and prisoners were gravitating towards it. ‘Where are they all heading?’ Barton asked.
‘Come with me and all will be revealed,’ Steele told them. ‘But brace yourselves. The news isn’t good.’
They entered the next tower, and Barton immediately primed his weapon to fire. He could hear the dead. And they were close.
‘Arm yourselves, men,’ Wilkins ordered.
‘Please… just wait,’ Steele said. ‘It’s perfectly safe.’
‘Nothing in this place is safe at all,’ Wilkins angrily corrected him. Steele beckoned for the others to follow. A spiral staircase led down into the dark depths.