Stung (Zombie Gentlemen) (6 page)

“Lover’s locket?” Crunch mocked with a sneer.

Victor paled, gritting his teeth in fury that he
knew he couldn’t release. “None of your business!”

“Give it up, ya knobhead,” Crunch growled at him
and shook Victor without much effort. “Did ya even think what’d ‘appen if
someone else found it?”

“It’s mine,” Victor hissed through clenched teeth
but couldn’t help the instinct to cover his face. His nails sunk into the other
man’s wrist.

“Oy! Ya askin’ for trouble.”

“What is it that you can do to me, huh?” Victor
exploded, trying to get away at all cost. His temples were pulsing with panic.

“I’m not even gonna start listin’.” Crunch
furrowed his eyebrows, his grip not loosening for a second. “Whatever it is, I
can keep it safe. Anyone else finds it, and ya get a beatin’.”

“Why would I trust you? You people took everything
from me.” Victor’s voice was shaky, rasping, but he managed not to spill the
tears of terror at the thought of losing his most prized possession. He didn’t
mean Crunch personally, but the man was part of it all. Why would he be any
different than the person who donned his coat right after ripping it from his
shoulders?

Crunch let go of him and clenched his jaw. “I
dunno. Why would ya? Why would ya go with me to the watchtower, huh?”

“Why would I go other than finding you handsome
and needing the touch?” lied Victor, backing away a few steps. His body was
ready for a fight it couldn’t win.

“Fillin’ yar gob and feelin’ safe.” Crunch backed
off with a scowl. “Ya keep that thing, and I ‘ope for yar own sake, no one
finds it.” The last part sounded like a threat and sent shivers down Victor’s
spine. But it also made him look up into Crunch’s burning eyes. He was too
confused to answer right away.

Crunch huffed once more, like an angry dragon, and
walked off.

“Crunch... wait...” Victor leaned his shovel
against the pen fence and followed him. It wasn’t the behaviour of someone who
wanted to steal from him, as unlikely as it was.

“What ya want, boy?” The guard snapped at him,
looking back with a scowl.

Victor flinched. “It’s-- it’s my mother’s
engagement ring, all right? I can’t...” He shook his head, swallowing hard.

Crunch rolled his eyes. “Ya
can’t
‘ave it
found, ya knobhead,” he hissed and approached him with his palm open.

Victor gazed down at the thick flesh, marked by
blisters and rough skin, tense and uncertain of the best way to deal with this
situation. Crunch was right, anyone else would just beat him for smuggling
and
take the ring, while Crunch had so far been considerate. But they only knew
each other for a day.

“It’s priceless to me,” he whispered, pleading
with his eyes.

Crunch sighed and came closer. “I may not look it,
but I’m no beggar nor thief. I’ll keep it safe, yeah?” His hand fell on
Victor's shoulder in a gesture Victor supposed was meant to be reassuring, but
felt like the weight of the world.

“Please, keep your promise and I’ll be really good
to you.” Victor’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer, palming the
other man’s chest.

“Don’t need to whore yarself out, boy.” Crunch
just shook his head.

“It’s not like that!” Victor felt his ears heating
up. “It’s just another promise,” he mumbled, hanging his head in shame. He knew
all too well that his attractiveness was the only card he could play in this
situation.

“I ain’t got all day.” Crunch gestured for him to
give up the ring.

Victor swallowed, but quickly dove his hand under
the shirt and tugged at the small pouch he hid on the inner side, just below
his armpit. His hands shook a bit as he placed it in Crunch’s open palm. He
didn’t need to see the simple, golden band with a ruby to visualize it. His
heart sunk with a sense of great loss. What if he was feeling the ring’s weight
for the last time?

“That’s a good boy.” Crunch closed it in his palm
and leaned in for a surprise kiss.

Victor flung himself at him, desperate and
frightened. “I trust you to keep it,” he whispered against Crunch’s lips,
giving them a gentle nip. His muscles were so tense it hurt.

“Ya don’t.” Crunch pouted. “But it’s yar best
bet.”

Victor flinched. “I trust you more than anyone.”

Crunch just shook his head. “Go back to work.”

Feeling increasingly at loss, Victor pressed their
lips together again. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If ya wanna,” Crunch mumbled and shrugged,
looking away. “I’ll give ya food anyway.”

“Yes, of course I want to!” Victor was feeling
worse with each word that fell from Crunch's mouth. He couldn’t lose that one
connection to safety he had. “If your plans for today change... you know where
to find me.”

Crunch nodded and put the ring in his pocket. He
rubbed his face and walked back to his chair, leaving Victor with the silent
order of going back to work. The deep frown on Crunch’s forehead and the sullen
expression of his lips weren’t promising.

Chapter 4

Crunch was cranky all afternoon. Those damn mind
games were pissing him off. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already,
trying to keep himself afloat without catching too much attention. To make sure
he wouldn’t lose that goddamned ring, Crunch put it on a chain around his neck.
If anyone saw it, he could claim he was keeping it for a future sweetheart,
which would kill two birds with one stone. He doubted anyone would see it
though. In less than a week’s time, he would give it back to Victor.

He was making his way to his room after a hearty
supper. As he walked up the stairs and walked into the simple yet clean
corridor, he heard a rustle behind his door. His senses became fully alert
within a split second, and he inched closer with his hand on the hilt of the
machete. With his ear close to the doorframe, he could clearly make out
creaking sounds and the rustling of opening drawers. His mind filled with
dread, but he willed his body to calm down enough to act. Was his cover blown?

Crunch grabbed the machete and in one swift move,
slammed the door open only to look into the wide eyes of his fellow guard.
Sharpe stared at Crunch, his arm reaching for a huge hunting knife by his belt,
but he didn’t move it from the sheath.

“The hell ya doin’ here?” Crunch growled and
clenched his fist on the grip of his machete. He quickly weighed his options.
There shouldn't be anything revealing in the room at the moment, but Sharpe
spying on him was a warning sign, and if the man was indeed suspecting
something, was this the right moment to kill him and throw the body to the
zombies?

“Just needed some baccy to borrow. I know you
still have yours,” rasped the intruder, gritting the chilling keyboard of metal
teeth. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, but then again, it was
hot outside.

“Huh? We runnin’ low again?” Crunch sighed,
deciding not to take action just yet and play the part of good friend. “Trish
don’t have any?” As he casually walked into the room, the open chest didn't
escape his attention but he chose to ignore it.

“His smells like goat shit.” Sharpe pouted,
meeting Crunch’s eyes for only a brief moment. “You on the other hand always
have the good stuff. I’ll give you back the money in a few days,” he promised
with a tight smile.

“Fuckin’ ask next time.” Crunch sighed and reached
to his pocket for a tin of tobacco. He already hated the guy’s guts, and now he
had yet another reason to watch Sharpe. It wasn’t normal to just cross
boundaries of another guard’s room like that.

“Sorry, didn’t know where ya were after we were
done with the pigs.” He gave Crunch a wicked smile. Sharpe made no secret of
the fact that he enjoyed taking advantage of his position in the camp and judging
from his tone, Crunch could assume it wasn’t the actual pigs he had in mind.

In order to blend in, Crunch was forced to keep
his guard persona rather unpleasant, but he avoided unnecessary violence.
“Yeah, I had a wander about the fences.”

“And? Any rotting lady was to your likin’?” Sharpe
gave him a cool grin.

Crunch snorted and shook his head. “If ya wanna
rise in the ranks, Sharpe, ya gotta give that added effort. It’s good to check
if everything's nice and solid once in a while.” He looked into the other man’s
eyes, wondering if the seeds he tried to plant were starting to sprout. What he
wanted was for Sharpe to find something better to do than following him. If
everything would go according to plan, in less than a week Honeyhill would be
free and men like Sharpe would go down.

The other guard shook his head, his face tensing
though the slight tremor around his eyes made it obvious he was fighting to
keep calm. “Been here longer than most of ya,” he snapped.

“Just take the fuckin’ tobacco.” Crunch rolled his
eyes and shook the tin at him. “Tease the ‘pigs’ less, do yar job more. Not
‘ard, is it?”

“No, not hard. It’s hard to be around freaks.”
Sharpe left the room without a goodbye, his heavy footsteps thudding outside
until he ran downstairs.

Crunch looked down at the tin of tobacco still in
his hand and shook his head. “Bellend,” he muttered before looking up to find
clues of Sharpe’s true purpose.

The room was rather spartan, with a simple wooden
bed with drawers under the mattress, a low table and chair, and a medium-sized
chest where Crunch kept his belongings. There was only enough room to move
between the bed and door, but at least he had a small window, so he didn’t have
to rely on candles all the time. He was also prepared to use the window as an
escape route in case of an emergency.

During his time off, Crunch liked to be outside
anyway, so he didn’t mind the room being cramped. Having no lodging privileges
also meant he wouldn’t get any envy about it from other guards, which was a
good position to be in.

He had a night of patrol today, but he didn’t mind
the long walk along the fences as it would also give him a chance to sneak out.
The conclusion to his mission was coming in huge strides, and it was now a few
days, maybe a week away. Tonight, he was to meet one of his informers in the
forest, and while the trips outside the camp have never been pleasant, at least
the distance he had to cross was getting shorter and safer each time.
Unbeknownst to the people of Honeyhill, a fenced passage to the camp was being
built close by. Since none of the patrols actually included going out into the
woods, the Humanists could remain undetected as long as the occasional
fugitives kept running along the rail track to London, unknowingly keeping the
coast clear on the other side of the farm.

With a sigh, Crunch grabbed the ring on his neck
and brought it up for examination. It was solid gold, that he was sure of. The
band resembled an intricate crown of leaves that surrounded a single ruby. He
still couldn’t believe what happened in the afternoon. Only a day ago, he told
Victor to stay out of trouble, follow the rules, and what he got was Victor
hiding gold up his sleeve.

Crunch opened the chest all the way. If he was to
go out into the forest, he had to be as well protected as possible. One of the
best things about being a guard in Honeyhill was the outerwear they were
equipped with for emergencies and which Crunch took full advantage of. Thick
leather gloves, a jacket buckled up with straps so it fit snugly but left
enough room for movement, a helmet with enforced leather at the back of the
neck. The gear made him slightly less flexible, but it was a small price to pay
for enhanced safety.

Crunch left on time, strolling towards the fence
when the sun started slowly going down. Once in a while, he tried to discreetly
look back under the pretence of lacing his shoes or adjusting some strap, but
no one was following him. After several months in the camp, he was relieved at
the thought of being able to be himself again. It had been a tense six months,
having to not only watch but also participate in the torment, even if he never
resorted to violence when it could be avoided without blowing his cover. And
while he was happy Victor would be out of danger in a matter of days, today’s
events shook Crunch’s confidence in the lad. It was clear Victor tried to use
his charms as payment for the keepsake, even if he insisted that wasn’t the
case.

Did he consider fucking Crunch a chore that he had
to go through for safety? Crunch really thought it couldn’t be that bad for
him. Last time, he had a thorough wash before their meeting, got a fresh shirt,
all the best food he could gather on short notice... yet still he felt queasy
about the idea of fucking someone who might be secretly resentful. He knew he
should stop the flirting at once, but it wasn’t all that easy. Victor was such
a looker, he seemed eager, and Crunch had been horny and alone for long enough.
Would fucking a willing man really be such a bad thing after having carried out
a dangerous job for such a long time? Didn’t Crunch deserve a bit of a break?
Maybe he should just get Victor the food and pretend he wasn’t interested in
anything but company to evaluate the lad's intentions?

Eventually, he reached a remote part of the farm
where trees provided enough cover for him to safely cross the fence without
anyone spotting him from the distance. In the dark, he heard loud grunts from
beyond the border of the camp, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He was still
aware of the danger, but after having to deal with it for such a long time, the
presence of the undead couldn't disturb his routine.

Crunch sighed and looked around in the darkness
illuminated only by the moon and stars. Climbing up the first fence was a piece
of cake. All that he had to be wary of were the metal spikes on top. As he
jumped into the strip of grass between the two barriers protecting the camp, he
knew was still ahead of him. The art of safely getting out into the wild was
all about finding the right moment, so he stood in silence, watching the eerie
movement outside. It would be a lot easier if he could just kill the rotters
through the fence, but then he’d have to clean up the bodies later not to raise
suspicion of the guards who came round in the morning. At least there weren’t
that many undead in sight, so after a short review of the situation, Crunch
made his move. In a single heartbeat, he crawled up the second fence. The
moment his feet hit the ground, he sprinted forward. One of the zombies turned
its head, following him with wide eyes. Well, its eyes were permanently wide as
it had no lower eyelashes, but that didn’t matter.

He reached the forest in the blink of an eye,
running as quietly as he could in his heavy boots. The moss beneath his feet
proved to be an ally, softening each step. Crunch liked using this particular
spot also because the trees had low hanging branches and if worst came to
worst, he could climb one. Thankfully, most of the undead were lured away
today, so he had a relatively safe passage through the few hills separating him
from the meeting spot. He easily outrun all the creatures that followed him and
finally rushed around a slope hiding the fenced walkway from sight. It wasn’t
perfectly secure, being just a green painted fence made of hollow steel bars
and wire, but it was good enough to keep the deadies at bay.

Crunch kept scanning his surroundings, machete in
hand and crossbow ready on his back. If a guard followed him by any chance,
he’d have to kill him.

“Oy, come’re,” a female voice hissed from behind
the fence. He couldn’t see their faces clear, but there were definitely two
people at the working end of the secured walkway through the woods. It never
ceased to amaze Crunch to see it emerging from the bushes, out of nowhere, like
a Flying Dutchman of the forest. In the semi darkness, he was only able to make
out the silhouettes of his contacts. A slim, long haired figure with distinctly
masculine shoulders rose from where he was crouching and opened the entrance
for Crunch.

He slipped through the narrow passage that closed
right behind him and looked at them both, slowly easing his breath. The slim
young man smiled at him, lowering his eyelids over big blue eyes. His hair was
falling to his shoulders in thick tangled rolls Crunch had already seen during
his voyages to the Caribbean. Crunch had to tear his gaze away from the pretty
face to greet the second person, a stern-looking Asian woman he vaguely
remembered from a meeting a few months back. He only needed to be in their
presence for a minute to realize they were like day and night.

“Don’t got much time,” he whispered, shaking her
small hand.

“Figured.” The woman nodded, then gave her
companion an expectant stare. “Where’s the talc?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” The lad fumbled with a
canvas bag on his hip and finally untied the knot. There was a small tin
inside, but Crunch couldn't see any of the writing on the label in the sparse
light. “It’s from professor Deverell.”

“What is it?” Crunch furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing
the tin, but hesitated before prying the lid open. He remembered that the lad,
whatever his name was, had something to do with explosives, and he didn’t want
to end up dead days before accomplishing his mission, just because he was
impatient to open a small container. Now he remembered, ‘Bricks’ was what they
called the boy.

“The label says it’s talc,” the woman told Crunch,
pouting with a soft sigh. “Mix it with water or any other drink. Make sure as
many men as possible have some so that they won't be a problem when we attack.”

“Best you just mix the whole thing in a big pot of
tea or something. Don’t bother measuring it,” added Bricks, playfully biting on
the end of his dreadlock. His big, blue eyes fixed on Crunch’s face.

Crunch knew that look all too well.
Was this
whole fucking army full of eager boy arses?
Not that he minded, but he
needed to focus, and with the lady standing right next to them, he could hardly
flirt. “Whatcha mean by ‘won’t be a problem’? Come on, information. Like drunk,
dead, what?”

“Like sleeping, or dead,” the woman said with a
grim look on her face.

“Depends on how greedy they are.” Bricks grinned.
His short trousers weren’t the best choice for the cool night, but he didn’t
seem to mind. Crunch just hoped his handsome informer wouldn’t get those firm
calves bitten, because he sure was eager to get to know him better after they
overtook Honeyhill.

“There’s too many of them, but I’ll get the big
guys and bosses so that it’s easy to kill off all the other dimwits.”

“No, this powder’s strong.” The woman interrupted
him with a headshake. “Just make sure as many as possible have it. Distributing
it among the chosen few will only have them dead.”

Crunch furrowed his eyebrows. “I didn’t say others
wouldn’t get it. I wasn’t chosen for this mission because I’m dumb.” He knew it
was a bit harsh, the moment he said it, but he was under so much pressure
already!