Alice in Deadland (2 page)

With that hope came a sobering thought. Time to do what? She was stuck deep inside what seemed to be a Biter base, and was running ever deeper into its recesses. She was well and truly trapped.

***

Alice ran till she was out of breath and stopped, going down on her knees, more tired and scared than she had ever been. The darkness and narrowness of the passage she was in did not help, as it made her feel disoriented and claustrophobic. At least she could no longer hear footsteps behind her. That did not surprise her. While the flash bang would not stop the Biters, she knew they hated very bright light, and it would certainly have slowed them down. Also, she was a very fit young girl who could outrun most of the people in their settlement, whereas the Biters pursuing her, while feared for their feral violence, moved with their characteristic stiff, loping gait, which meant she would be able to outrun them in any flat out race. The problem was that she was trapped in their base, and all they had to do was to tire her out.

When she thought she heard distant footsteps behind her, her fear gave her a second wind and she started running again, clutching her side, which had begun to hurt from the exertion. She ran into a wall, and fell back hard on her back, realizing that the tunnel turned ahead of her. As she looked past the turning, she saw what appeared to be a door framed by light coming from behind it. She ran towards it, and as she came closer, she was stunned to see a familiar figure drawn on the door. It was a seal showing an eagle framed by letters that were barely visible in the light coming from behind it. She started trying to read the letters and got past the U, N and I before she realized she did not need to tax her limited reading skills to understand what it showed. She had seen a similar seal in old papers her father kept locked away in a dusty box. Once he had told her something about him having worked in the United States Embassy in New Delhi before The Rising. She had understood little of what he had meant, though other kids around the settlement had told her that her father had been some sort of important man in the governments of the Old World. They had told her that she and her family had come from another land called America, which was why her blond hair and fair skin looked so different from her brown friends. But none of that mattered much to Alice, or to anyone else anymore. The old governments and countries were long gone. Now all people, irrespective of their old countries, religions or politics were bound together in but one overriding compact- the need to survive in the face of the Biter hordes. She had heard tales of how human nations had waged wars against each other, driven by the Gods they worshipped, or the desire to grab oil. Alice remembered laughing when her teacher at the makeshift school in the settlement had told her class about those days. She had thought her teacher was telling them some tall tales. What was it the old folks called them? The ones who had read the books before the undead rose and the world burned.

Yes, fairy tales.

When Alice heard footsteps behind her, she was snapped back to reality, and she struggled with the door in front of her, trying desperately to open it. She found a handle and pulled it with all her strength, and finally found the door budging. The door was made of heavy metal, and it sapped all her strength to open it enough for her to slip through. She looked back through the open door and heard the roars before she saw shadows appear in the tunnel. She pulled the door shut, hoping that what she had heard about Biters being stupid was right. That old joke about how many Biters it took to open a door.

She took a look around the room she was in and saw that it was lit by a single small kerosene lamp on the ceiling, and was filled with papers and files that crammed the shelves lining the walls. There was a small desk in a corner and when she walked to it, she saw some old newspapers on it. She had never seen a newspaper in her life, and was fascinated by the pictures and words she saw. She didn't need to read the words to know what they showed. They were relics of the last days during The Rising and its aftermath. There were grainy pictures of the first appearances of the undead, which she imagined for those who had never seen before them must have been quite a sight. Then there were pictures of burnt and charred cities- the remains of the Great Fire that the human governments had unleashed on so many cities when it seemed like all was lost. That was the barren, bleak landscape that Alice had known as home- the wastelands outside New Delhi, where millions had died in the Biter outbreak and then millions more as governments tried to contain the outbreak by using nuclear weapons on the key outbreak centers. Man had proven to be the most jealous of lovers, preferring to destroy the Earth rather than give her up. But it had not been enough, and in the fires of that apocalypse was born a renewed struggle for survival between humans and the undead in the wasteland that was now known simply as the Deadland.

Alice had been so transfixed by what she saw that she had forgotten all about securing the other doors to the room, and she screamed in agony when she realized that there was another door, partially obscured by a chair, which was ajar. She heard footsteps behind it, and realized that what she was taken for escape was in fact nothing more than a death trap.

She took out her handgun from her belt and as she felt for the safety, remembered with dismay that in all the chaos she had forgotten to reload. As she saw shadows enter the door, she realized she had no time for that any more. She unslung the sniper rifle from her shoulders. As such close quarters, there was no hope of her putting it to much use as a long range weapon, but there were other ways to make it count.

As a child, Alice had forever been getting into scrapes, and her parents would never tire of telling her to back down once in a while, instead of wading into every fight. But once after she had shot two Biters during a night-time raid, her father had got quite drunk to celebrate and told her that he loved her spirit and that no matter what the odds, she should never give into fear. To be afraid in the face of the undead was to die, or worse, to become one of
them
.

As Alice remembered her father's words, she felt her fear slip away. She knew that the Biters tried to bite and turn every human they found, but also that the humans who fought back the hardest sometimes enraged them so much that they ripped them apart, killing them instead of turning them into the undead.

Better dead than undead.

That had been the motto of the school where they had been taught survival and combat skills. Whereas little girls before The Rising may have been playing with their toys or watching TV, Alice had grown up playing with guns, explosives and learning the best way to destroy the undead. And she had been the best in her class.

She was now swinging the rifle in front of her like a staff, moving it around her fingers so it cut sharp circles through the air. Three Biters came in, and as the first reached for her, she cracked him across the forehead and leaned toward him, sweeping his legs under him as he went down. The next up was a squat woman wearing the tattered, bloody remains of a saree, and incongruously enough, a huge diamond solitaire earring on her left ear. The right ear was missing. Alice delivered a roundhouse kick that sent Ms. Solitaire stumbling back and then reversed the sniper rifle in her hand, firing a single shot that disintegrated the Biter's head. The third Biter, a tall man with his jaw missing, was almost upon her when she hit him hard in the face with the butt of her rifle. Biters might feel no pain, but it unbalanced him enough for Alice to jump back a few steps and put another round into his chest. Only a head shot would put down a Biter for good, but a high powered sniper rifle bullet did impressive enough damage and slowed one down no matter where it hit. A gaping hole opened in the Biter's chest as he slumped back. Alice knew he'd be at her throat soon enough so she tried to chamber another round in her rifle.

That was when she felt her right arm caught in a cold, clammy grip that was so strong she screamed and dropped her rifle. Bunny Ears was back and he was bringing his face back to bite her arm. Alice kicked him in the shin, but he did not even wince as he came closer to delivering the bite that would be the last thing Alice felt before she became one of
them.

Alice did the last thing he perhaps expected. She head-butted him and as he staggered back and loosened his grip on her arm, she vaulted over the desk and stood with her back to the wall. There were now no less than six Biters gathered in front of her, and Alice suppressed the welling panic within as she unsheathed the curved hunting knife that was always by her side. Bunny Ears snarled and screamed in rage, a hellish concerto that was soon taken up by all the Biters in the room. Alice had heard of this ritual before. It meant the Biters were going to rip some human apart instead of trying to convert them. Alice reversed the knife in her right hand and stood with her legs slightly spread apart, just as she had mastered in countless hours of unarmed combat practice. Her teacher there had been some sort of elite commando in the armies of the old governments, and he had told her she was his best student. She slowed her breathing, focusing on the creatures in front of her, trying to block out her fear, trying to still her mind. As Bunny Ears stepped toward her, she gripped the knife handle tight and readied herself. Better dead than undead.

***

TWO

When Bunny Ears lunged at her, he was met with a sharp kick that had him rocking on his heels and then Alice delivered a knife thrust to his chest. He just looked up and snarled through bloodied teeth before Alice kicked him again, sending him down on one knee. Alice knew it was a losing battle. She was hopelessly outnumbered and even if by some miracle she managed to drive the knife through one of the Biter's brains, that would still leave several of them to rip her apart. Be that as it may, she was not about to go down without a fight. A Biter with half his face torn off reached towards her with a hand that had several fingers missing. Alice put all her strength into it and drove the knife through his skull. The Biter fell back and did not get back up.

Now she had no weapon to defend herself with.

As two more Biters reached towards her, Alice overturned the desk in front of her, sending both of them sprawling, but she knew that at best she was merely delaying the inevitable. She felt a painful blow to the side of her head as Bunny Ears hit her and she fell over hard against the wall.

As she scrambled to get up, she felt cold hands grip her legs and sharp nails dig into her jeans. She grabbed onto the bookshelf by her side and it toppled over with a crash, scattering papers and files all around her. She was now being dragged along the ground, and could hear the Biters screeching in anticipation of the kill, like a pack of wild dogs around their prey.

Alice looked up to see Bunny Ears looming over her, his eyes yellowed and wide, his skin peeling off in places and his stench unbearable as he bent over her.

Then he suddenly stopped. A couple of the other Biters tried to get to her, but he stopped them with an authoritative roar. Alice cringed as he grabbed her hair, but instead of attacking her, he seemed to be examining it, turning it around in his fingers. Alice was nearly paralyzed with fear, wondering what torture he had in mind for her, half wishing that he would just get it over with and grant her a quick death. As far as she had ever imagined Biters capable of emotions, she saw a flicker of doubt cross Bunny Ear's face, and something had clearly caused him to put his bloodlust on hold. Whatever that was seemed to be something right behind Alice since he seemed to be looking beyond her at the wall where the bookshelf had been seconds earlier.

He reached out with a torn and callused finger and Alice cringed, only to find that he was reaching for the wall behind her. The other Biters were now gathered around him, looking at her. A few of them were jostling and pushing, eager to get at her, but he snarled again, and they held back. Clearly Bunny Ears was in charge here. Whether that was a good thing or not was something Alice reckoned she would find out very soon. He grabbed her hair again, this time almost yanking them out from the roots, and Alice shouted. That got him focused on her again, and he brought his face close to hers. Alice tried hard not to throw up as she smelt his stench and saw his torn and decayed face up close. He was but a few inches away from her face when to her shock he said one word.

'A...a......lisssssssss.'

Alice thought she had imagined it but when he repeated himself, she recoiled in horror. Not only did this creature speak but it was calling out her name. She had not said anything, but her reaction must have given her away. Bunny Ears leapt back, as if he had been electrocuted, and the other Biters all took a step back. She was alone, unarmed and utterly at their mercy, but the tables had somehow been turned in an instant. They seemed to be terrified of her. No, as Alice studied them almost bowing down before her and heard a few more of them growling, trying to utter her name, she realized it was not just fear. They were in awe of her.

Alice scrambled to her feet, unsure of what was going on, when Bunny Ears pointed to the wall behind her. Now that she had got her first close look at Biters outside of the heat of battle when all that mattered was killing them or being bitten, she realized that while they certainly looked hideous and were capable of savage violence, they were also capable of some level of rational action. She hoped that if she did as they wanted, she had at least some chance of appealing to that part of them and getting out alive. As she turned towards the wall, it felt as if the world had stopped around her. On the wall was a drawing, with smudged lines and crudely filled colors, as if it had been made by a small child. But what it showed was clear enough.