Seeds of Rebellion Page 97

Clouds muted the moon and blocked much of the starlight, leaving Rachel squinting at vague shapes approaching up the hillside. Farfalee and Kerick began loosing arrows, and some of the shapes staggered. Nedwin appeared beside Rachel. “We’re surrounded,” he hissed, a dagger in each hand. “Stay near me.”

Jason drew his sword. Tark stood at his side, a weighty knife in one hand, a torch in the other.

“Plan?” Drake asked.

“They’re on all sides,” Halco answered.

“We move as a group,” Farfalee said briskly. “Break through their ranks and try to outpace them.”

“Which way?” Ferrin asked.

“Hard to say,” Kerick responded, releasing another arrow. From multiple directions, infected corpses neared the perimeter of the firelight.

“That way,” Nedwin said firmly, extending an arm. “A bit steeper, but fewer enemies.”

A husky man with curly hair lumbered into the light, moving in an awkward jog and clutching a heavy stick. One of his eyes was rolled back, showing almost no iris, and he wore no shirt. A pair of arrows to the head dropped him.

Aram brandished his massive sword. “Follow me,” he boomed. “I’ll open a path.” Bearing a sword and a torch, Ferrin advanced beside the half giant in the direction Nedwin had indicated. The group formed up around Rachel, Corinne, and Jason, weapons ready, moving away from the campfire with hurried, shuffling paces. Vicious sweeps of Aram’s sword sent enemies sailing.

Glancing back, Rachel saw figures rushing forward from the far side of the campfire. Focusing on the logs, she uttered a command that sent them flying at the undead attackers amid a fiery spray of sparks and embers. The logs launched with terrific force, some of them shattering against bodies, and the assailants recoiled from the blaze with tucked heads and upraised hands.

The use of Edomic brought a euphoric rush utterly incongruent with the fear that had been squeezing Rachel’s heart. Suddenly she felt more alert and capable. The logs had taken flight with more force than she had expected, probably because the command had been energized by her panic.

“They don’t like fire,” Ferrin called, jabbing with his torch before slashing with his sword.

Aram clubbed a sinewy woman with the flat of his sword, the impact sending her into a clumsy cartwheel. Tark swung his torch to ward off an undead teen with a bony body. Kerick released more arrows.

“Faster!” Halco warned from the rear of the group. “They’re converging on us.”

Peeking over her shoulder, Rachel saw figures hurrying jerkily toward them from all sides of the hill, adjusting their pursuit with alarming coordination. The slope had become steep enough that Rachel was descending sideways with her knees bent, the soles of her moccasins sliding on the dirt.

“Run!” Farfalee ordered.

Aram bullied his way forward even faster, a human wrecking ball who left broken zombies cast aside like groaning heaps of litter. Rachel did not know what they would have done without him to lead the charge. She picked up the pace along with the rest of the group. By the faint moonlight and the unsteady glow of three torches, they raced down the slope, Aram slamming enemies aside with his sword, Ferrin and the others doing their best to cut down the leftovers. The incline helped Rachel reach such great speed that she doubted whether she could stop herself. If she fell, it would be painfully spectacular. Around her the others ran with similar haste, weapons glinting in the torchlight.

As the incline became less steep, Rachel regained some control of her strides. Nollin had tripped on the slope, but Halco had dragged him to his feet speedily enough that the pair of seedmen had not fallen too far behind the others. For the moment the delegation had outdistanced the zombies, although Rachel could hear them crashing recklessly down the hillside.

“What now?” Kerick asked, still running as he spoke.

“Some of us could stand our ground and slow them,” Tark offered.

“Too many of them,” Farfalee said. “They’d sweep by you. The sacrifice would be meaningless.”

“Split up?” Nedwin asked.

“That attack felt planned,” Farfalee said, breathing hard. “Sloppy, but with evidence of organization. A group massed around us and came from all sides. If we split up, I expect they will adapt.”

“We need to find a narrow place,” Kerick said. “A position where a few of us might detain them.”

“I saw nothing like that in the area,” Nedwin said. “But we need to veer left up here or we’ll get boxed in by some steep terrain.”

They continued at a sprint, Aram in the front, Halco in the rear, the torches shedding just enough light to allow them to dodge natural obstacles. Behind the group, Rachel could hear their bloodless enemies crashing through bushes and stumbling over rocks. With the delegation running at full speed, the zombies were gradually losing ground. Rachel doubted whether she could sustain this pace for more than a few minutes. She assumed the walking dead could keep charging all night.

“How many were there?” Nollin asked.

“At least forty,” Farfalee said.

“At least sixty,” Nedwin corrected.

“It will be minutes before they overtake us,” Kerick asserted. “Any defensible ground up ahead?”

“A little table of rock,” Nedwin said. “Maybe twenty feet above the surrounding land. One side is rather steep; the others are sheer. If we beat them there, they’d have to climb to reach us.”

“No escape?” Aram asked.

“We’d only go there to make a stand,” Nedwin said. “The inaccessibility makes it defendable. I don’t know of a better option.”

“Lead on,” Farfalee said.

“Agreed,” Drake approved. “If we’re caught in the open, we’re finished.”

“What if a pair of us head off on our own?” Nollin proposed, panting. “A small detachment might avoid detection.”

“It’s a gamble,” Ferrin said. “If the duo gets noticed, they’ll be defenseless. Who’d you have in mind?”

“Some key delegates,” Nollin said. “Perhaps myself and Aram.”

Rachel shook her head. Evidently Nollin had noticed the critical role Aram had played during the escape.

Ferrin laughed openly. “Aram, you’ve been promoted to essential!”

“I’m generally more appreciated at night,” the big man rumbled. “I’m going to the table, Nollin.”

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