Zombies of Byzantium by Sean Munger

Author:Sean Munger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2013-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

“Stand clear!” shouted one of the soldiers at the apex of the dome. “It’s coming down now!”

The other soldier swung his sword. It sliced through the thick taut rope with one swoop. The bell shot straight down, now a huge bronze projectile. The impact of the bell with the stone floor of the church made a BONGGGGGGGGG! so loud that it must have been audible all over Constantinople. The bell crashed through the stones of the floor as if they were paper. A moment later we all heard a tremendous splash.

The burst of air from the falling bell blew out the candles on the altar, as well as the torches that some of the archers carried to light their arrows. Plunged into inky darkness, the civilians, especially the children, emitted a great anguished wail. When it died down, we could again hear the moaning of the ghouls and then a loud splintering crack. Suddenly the ghouls were much louder.

“They’ve broken through the door!” cried Panteugenos.

“I can’t see anything!” shouted one of the other soldiers.

The extinguishment of the candles was a disaster greater than any that had befallen us before. The ghouls could smell us; we who were still living beings depended upon our sight. If we can’t see, I thought, how are we going to get out of here? There’s no time to find a torch or make a fire—those things will be on us in seconds!

My heart was pounding in my chest. I had only seconds to make a decision. “Everybody who’s not armed, drop to the floor!” I shouted. “Stay down as low as you can! Soldiers, if you hear a ghoul or run into anything higher than two feet off the floor, slash at it!”

“I don’t know where my men are!” said Panteugenos, off to my right.

“Soldiers, call out your names. Keep shouting your names so we all know where you are. Ghouls can’t talk—anything speaking Greek is a living man.” I directed my voice toward the ceiling. “You two soldiers, up there! Get the rope and follow the stairs down! We’ll start lowering these people down into the cistern. Theophilus, help the women and children crawl along the floor toward the hole.”

At once the church was a din of shouting and battle. “Panteugenos!” “Antiochos!” “Nicetas!” “Zonaras!” I heard the sound of swords cleaving flesh. The ghouls did not wail when they went down; indeed, they grew silent. Their moaning all seemed to be directed off to my left, toward the door. I could barely see a patch of bluish night beyond the splintered remnants of the door, broken by dark rounded heads of more ghouls spilling in through the opening.

“Over here!” cried Panteugenos. “They’re in this direction!”

“Where?” shouted someone else.

“Off, left there! To your left!”

“No, no, it’s me, Antiochos!” protested one of the soldiers. “Antiochos, Antiochos—” I heard a sword stabbing into something fleshy. “Aaaaaauuuughhh!”

Panteugenos: “Antiochos! Antiochos! Are you all right?” A ghoul moaned to my right, between me and Panteugenos’s voice. “I think I killed Antiochos!”

“There!” I cried.

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