The Wonder 2: Deep Blue by James Devonshire

Author:James Devonshire
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911124016
Publisher: AN M-Y BOOKS PAPERBACK
Published: 2015-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The Road to Chinsey

The Gramarye Region

Grand Quillia

June 1856

The Undead cannot march. Although they were moving in columns and rows, and despite the fact that when they had been living Trade regulars they had regularly pounded the parade square, these particular deceased soldiers could not march. One or two former regimental sergeant majors were obviously trying, but the Ditch troopers pointed at them with skeletal fingers and mocked them, their grins revealing teeth a mixture of apple and spinach green in colour.

The yellow tunics of the Trade platoon were caked black with their own blood and guts so that their uniforms resembled some gruesome mottled camouflage. Any attempt at concealment would never work, however, due to the astonishing stench of rot and decay.

Major Franks continued to shadow the Undead platoon, his back knotting as he stooped behind the hedgerows, a handkerchief held tight to his nose and mouth. He had cursed himself for not taking one of the ponies when they had set off but that was all undoubtedly part of the traitor Axelrod’s dastardly plan. He needed to get to Chinsey before this macabre army, and despite the lurching lope of the former soldiers, he knew he would not be able to outrun them without being seen.

So Franks bided his time. Once they reached the outskirts of Chinsey he would wait until they had engaged the Trade defence and then he would lead an attack from the rear. He would charge into the stragglers, hacking and shooting, perhaps attack even Axelrod himself, steal the traitor’s pony and seize the day. He would be the saviour of Chinsey, would accept Colonel Quine’s former role and be hailed a living legend.

He looked at Quine, whom Axelrod had not entirely reanimated. A large chunk of the colonel’s head was missing, and he lolloped alongside Axelrod’s pony like a toddler wired on sweets, his tongue dangling from his mouth and his hands limp in front of his chest like a clown bunny. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Axelrod had stripped the man of his clothes, so his pale rotundity flopped about revealing hairy moles alongside bloodstains.

Franks shivered with disgust and fear. He sincerely hoped that if he were discovered, murdered and reanimated that he would not be stripped of his dignity. The last thing he wanted was for Missus Franks to see him dead in another woman’s knickers.

“I know you,” Brennan said as the Viceroy entered the sitting room to inspect Lady Melody’s party.

“Of course you do,” Willis replied, “I’m the fucking Viceroy.”

Willis looked the scruffy old man up and down, deciding the individual looked used up, finished, exhausted. His comrades fared no better, although the women could be made to be appear more alluring. His guards had already searched one of the women, a boyish individual whose multitude of weapons were strewn across a table. Her hands were cuffed behind her and her clothes were dishevelled, allowing Willis a good eyeful. His guards knew what he liked. They were just handcuffing

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