Death Knell
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This story is part of the Malton Chronicles. This story is fan-made, and is not officially part of any background history for Urban Dead. |
The roof of the church was undergoing repairs before the outbreak, that would make it even more dangerous. MacLane grabbed Clarke's hand and ran towards the window. With her free hand she pulled out her 9mm and shot through the glass. The glass fell away, tumbling to the street which before the outbreak would have been swarming with people. They charged toward the broken window and leapt through the air. Within three feet they began to fall, clawing at the air and screaming. They landed with a crash on the scaffolding. Clarke stood and brushed himself off. MacLane looked back at Hippesley, the zombies who had been closing in on them stood confused as to where their meal had just gone.
It had been a bad idea to come to Molebank, ever since the detectives had arrived there they'd had nothing but badluck. An impromptu trip North of the suburb had left them trapped in Hippersley with a swarm of zombies closing in on them.With limited ammo the only option the duo had was to run.
The detectives found a way into the church. A space in the roof where the repair work should have taken place granted them access to the the bell tower. St. Paulinus's church appeared deserted from up in the tower.
There was no way down from the tower, an old rope ladder that had once been used for access purpoes now lay below the tower on the marble floor. MacLane looked at Clarke, then looked at the bells, the rope the bell ringers used hung limp. "I'll go first" said Clarke taking hold of the rope then swinging his legs round it. He lowered himself down the frayed rope slowly. The rope began to loosen and come apart. Before Clarke could get to the bottom the rope came in half and he dropped to the hard marble with a thump. His leg gave way and he cracked his skull on the floor. "Ash!" screamed MacLane. He didn't answer. A puddle of blood began to collect around his head. MacLane yelled his name again, he didn't move. She looked around the tower for a way to get down to him.
As she was looking she heard a shuffle. The dragging of undead feet on the marble. MacLane began to panic as the footsteps got closer. Clarke was gonna die and she could do nothing to save him. MacLane's heart began to race and he could feel it jump in her chest. The footsteps were now right below her. Or so she thought.
From out the corner of her eye she cought sight of an altar boy, a living dead altar boy still dressed in his robes and Sunday best shoes. The cream robes had been discoloured with blood and other bodily fluids. His young face decomposed and sad. She pulled her pistol from her holster but felt a sudden pang of guilt, this kid must only be eleven, or was only eleven. That didn't matter now, Malton was now a town of life and death, the only way to live was to kill. She took aim and fired, three bullets entered the skull of the young boy.
The altar boy slumped to the wooden rafters of the bell tower. If he'd gotten up here surely there was a way down. Clarke was busy bleeding to death laying on a cold slab of marble. MacLane found a small hatch on the back wall of the tower, three foot by three foot. She climbed through it and headed down towards Clarke.
When she reached him he was cold, but was still breathing. She stemmed the bleeding which had begun to clot. His fall didn't appear fatal but he head clearly been knocked unconscious. As MacLane nursed Clarke the familiar sounds of oncoming zombies could be heard.
Shuffling between the pews a number of ex-paritioners could be seen, slowly approaching the cops. MacLane hooked her arms under Clarke's armpits and dragged him away. She bundled him in the confessional and loaded her gun. She had a single clip left. She rifled through Clarke's pockets, two clips. The shambling monters came towards her, she let rip with 9mm, wounding but not killing the zombies. MacLane reloaded and fired at the zeds again. They groaned and murmered weird zombie noises. As if they were communicating, she reloaded again, it was her final clip. She gunned down two zombies but a third remained.
The zombie knocked her to the ground and loomed over her. It's filth encrusted face snarled above hers, she kicked out and knocked it to the ground. Frantically searching for a weapon she found a crucifix. A large brass ornate feature. She managed to lift it above her head and bring it crashing down on the skull of the zombie which crushed like an over ripe melon.
Whilst the zombies lay scattered around the church MacLane sent an urgent radio message for assistance.
