Richard Murray's Blog

Nestled in a glade amongst the conifers and heather, was a small camp. There wasn’t much to it, just a few brightly coloured tents set up around a fire pit that smouldered in the early morning sunlight.Old bottles and plastic wrapping littered the floor around the edges of the clearing and some enterprising soul had strung lines of string bedecked with empty tin cans from the trees around the campsite. No doubt an attempt to provide some sort of alarm system should the undead wander by.Obviously, whoever slept soundly in those tents, had never considered that the threat that found them would be fully human, alive and able to bypass their pathetic attempt at protection. I would have pitied them if I hadn’t been enjoying watching what was about to happen.“We should help them,” Pat said, his voice barely above a whisper. He caught my querying look and shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do.”Now, ordinarily, I would have leapt at the chance to kill some people. Some, real, live, people. I mean, it did get kind of dull hacking my way through the endless shambling undead that seemed to be a daily chore since the world fell apart. But still…“No,” I said as I watched the two scruffy looking men as they tried their best to creep up to the tents.They were dirty and unshaven while their clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed since before the end of the world. Their knives were bright and shiny though, which likely said a lot about their priorities.“Why not?”I liked Pat, which was a rarity for me. He was one of the few friends I had ever had in fact and despite our obvious differences, he could usually listen to reason. Lately, though, perhaps it was because of approaching parenthood, he had developed a distinct need to be even more protective than normal.“If we save them,” I said quietly without bothering to look his way and see the earnest expression he no doubt wore. “We will have to take them back to the sanctuary with us. Which is more mouths to feed and more of a drain on our resources. "”No. Better to let these guys kill them and then we can kill them and take anything useful they have.”“You know what she’d say to that,” he replied with a tone of voice that told me exactly what he felt about my reasoning. He also knew that the only way to get me to do as he wanted, was to invokeher.“That’s hardly fair,” I said and this time I did look his way and caught the wry smile he wore. “It’s not like we’d have to tell her.”“She’d ask and you’d have to.”“Life was a lot more fun for me before I met you people, you know that right?”“I know mate.” The humour in his voice was unmistakable, even to someone as limited as I was at recognising such things. I exhaled a soft sigh and slid my combat knife from its sheath on my belt.“Come on then.”Without waiting for a reply I set off towards the camp, pushing through the dew-wet undergrowth with slightly less noise than I’d used to make. While still not comfortable with the great outdoors, I was finally starting to master it.The first of the two attackers was reaching for the zip to a bright orange tent as I reached the edge of the camp. I paused and struck the edge of one of the cans with my knife. It rang hollow and loud as it was knocked against the next one on the line and both men twirled to face me, mouths hanging to their chest in surprise.Neither pleasantries nor threats were exchanged as the men both raised their knives and ran straight towards me with a guttural growl coming from deep in their throats. I allowed a smile to form as I noted their gaunt faces and crazed expressions.I ducked the wild swing of the first and sidestepped to the left away from the second allowing him to barrel right past me, stopping only just before he collided with a tree. The next slash from the first man was also ridiculously easy to avoid and my smile faltered. There would have been more challenge from the Shamblers.“No fun at all,” I sighed as I brushed aside a third attempt to carve my flesh and sank my own blade into his chest. It wasn’t as precise as I’d have preferred but still, my weapon pierced his heart and he collapsed with a moan, almost taking my knife with him.A solid thud came from the direction of the other man, the sound of meat being struck by something heavy and I had no need to turn to see the look of pity on my friends face as he used his medieval mace to crush the other man’s skull.Such a poor encounter did little to improve the seemingly permanently sour mood I had been enduring of late and so I was less than interested in basking in the gratitude of the camp. instead I busied myself with cleaning the blood from my blade as Pat dealt with the questions.“Er… mate,” Pat said with an odd catch in his voice. I glanced his way to see him backing away from the tent with his arms raised above his head. The log dark barrel of a rifle was aimed right at his chest.Careful, so as not to spook whoever was holding the other end of the rifle, I crossed the campsite towards my friend. Cass would kill me if I let anything happen to him so I slid my knife back into its sheath and tried to appear unthreatening.“Who are you?” a woman’s voice called from within the tent.“The people who just saved your life,” I said without pause. “Certainly, the people who deserve a little more respect than you’re showing.”“Ryan!” Pat said with a sideways glance to me. I couldn’t help the grin I flashed his way.“Perhaps you should leave the tent and offer us a more fitting form of thanks,” I said and waited, patiently as whispered words filtered out to me. The sounds of a furious, yet quiet, argument.Finally, the tent flap parted and a young man stepped out, barely out of his teens. Unhealthily thin with a swollen jaw and eyes full of pain. He held a hammer in one hand as he held back the thin material of the tent for the other occupant to leave.She was older, with similar features to the youth and lank, greasy hair that hung around her face. The arms that held the rifle trembled with, I suspected, fatigue brought on by hunger.“Anyone else?” I asked and she shook her head before I turned to look pointedly at the other tent.“They’re armed too,” she said and I raised one eyebrow quizzically without replying until she gestured to the other tent. “Our friends in there have guns aimed at you.”I glanced from her to the tent and back again as I kept my smile fixed in place. The quaver in her voice as she said it, the way she leaned towards the tent as though ready to leap towards it should I try and move that way… well, that told me plenty.“Put your arms down Pat,” I said and he looked at me, wide-eyed.“Keep them up!” the woman said.“I think not.” She looked at me as I said it and I widened my smile to the grin I usually showed only to those I was about to kill. “By all means, shoot him. But as soon as you do I shall cross this space between us and take that rifle from you.”Her eyes narrowed as she tried to read my expression and I forced my muscles to relax, to appear totally calm and at ease, which wasn’t that hard because I suspected that the rifle wasn’t even loaded.“C’mon mate!” Pat said, his arms firmly held above his head. “No one needs to shoot me alright?”“Oh, I don’t think she will.” He looked sceptical so I added, “I find it hard to believe that they would have bullets for that rifle, let alone more weapons.”“We do,” she insisted and I nodded politely.“Of course you do.”“Shut up! We do. I’ll show you when I shoot him.”“My dear lady,” I said in as bored a tone as I could manage. “You look half starved. If you had any ammunition for your weapon you would be using it to hunt, since you obviously have no food left here.”“That’s a good point,” Pat said as he lowered his arms a little. His mace was on the ground by his feet and he eyed it thoughtfully.“I’ll show you!” she repeated desperately. In the distance a flock of birds took flight loudly, shooting up into the sky, their raucous cries clear in the tense silence that filled the little campsite.“No need to show us anything,” I said as my gaze met Pats and I nodded towards the fleeing birds. His brow furrowed as he grasped what it meant. “You clearly have nothing worth dying over and we already saved your lives. We have done our good deed and will leave you alone.”“Mum…” the youth said hesitantly.“Hush,” she replied. The trembling in her arms was growing stronger and I doubted she’d be able to hold the rifle up for much longer.“We’ll bid you a good morning and be on our way,” I said as I inclined my head in a slight nod towards her. “Good luck.”“Shouldn’t we…” Pat began but I waved him off.“Not our concern.”“But…”“Wait!” the woman said. Her malnourished senses were struggling to keep up with what was happening and she didn’t seem to realise that any control she’d had over the situation was gone.“No need to thank us,” I said as I turned and walked away, ignoring as best I could the itch in the centre of my back that seemed to indicate that I wasn’t quite as sure I believed I was that she had no ammunition.“Stop!” she cried and I paused and glanced back at her, a question clear on my face. “Please.”“We should at least warn them,” Pat said. He’d lowered his arms but hadn’t retrieved his weapon and appeared to be watching the two strangers with something close to pity on his face. Or perhaps it was concern. I could never quite tell.“Warn us about what?” the youth asked.“They don’t want our help and we have enough mouths to feed,” I reminded him.“She’d want us to help them.”“She’s not in charge.”“No, but your dad is and he’d want you to help them too.”“His desire to help everyone is why the food stocks are so low even after the losses from a couple of weeks ago,” I retorted. Somewhere in the far distance, I could hear the faintest of moans and I was fairly sure that no one else had noticed. “Which is why we’re out here rather than continuing north.”“C’mon Ryan. It’s the right thing to do, you know it.”“She threatened to shoot us!” I snapped. “Literally a couple of minutes ago so you can’t have forgotten. Why should we help?”“Because it’s right.”My shoulders slumped as I realised that there was no way of convincing him otherwise and if I left, I’d have to explain to his pregnant partner exactly why I’d left. Then I’d have to explain to Lily and wouldn’t that end just wonderfully badly?“Oh fine then!”I turned and stormed back across the camp and grabbed the rifle from the woman’s hand before she could even manage to protest. Her son raised his hammer half-heartedly but one glance his way had him stepping back from what he saw on my face.Pat reached down to pick up his mace as I turned the rifle over in my hands and inspected it. While not an expert on such weapons, I had a basic understanding. Enough to know that the rifle was a single shot affair and in pretty poor condition. Heavy spotting of rust on the long barrel and the wooden stock was scuffed and wobbled slightly at my touch.With the rifle cradled in my arms, I pulled back on the bolt and grunted. “It is loaded then,” I said as Pat’s eyes widened.“What!”“Ah it’s fine,” I told him. “She didn’t shoot you.”“Please. Don’t hurt us,” the woman said before Pat could reply and he clamped down on what he’d been about to say though I noted his knuckles whitened where he gripped the handle of his mace.“We never had any intention of hurting you,” he said. “But you need to gather your stuff now.”“Why?” she asked with a fearful look towards her son.“There’s something coming through the woods,” I said as I held out the rifle to her. She looked at me in surprise as I gestured for her impatiently to take it. “Go on, it won’t bite.”“You’re giving it back?”“Well I don’t want it,” I said. “Now, I suspect that whatever’s headed our way is undead and hungry for flesh… so you might want to get a move on.”She took the rifle hesitantly and looked at the two of us for several seconds before coming to a decision. “Get our gear,” she told her son before raising her voice a little. “You can come out.”Movement came from the yellow tent behind us as someone unzipped the opening from the inside. A frightened face looked out for a moment before disappearing back inside and I held back the sigh as I pulled free my knife.“Get them ready while I go and check out what’s headed our way,” I said as I strode past Pat with a shake of my head. “The geriatrics in the yellow tent might need some help.”He didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed as I left the camp. He’d wanted to help them and as a result, we’d be taking a half-starved mother and son back to the sanctuary along with what looked to be a couple of people well into their seventies.We’d left looking for food and supplies and instead were increasing the number of useless people who’d need feeding. The way our luck seemed to be going, when I found the undead it’d likely be a whole bloody horde of Ferals.

Today was a.. strange day. I am have officially passed the one week mark of my recovery after a minor surgery and it was the final day of my daughters holiday in Greece. This meant I was going to make the most of it by going out for a beer with a friend.Several beers in, I was chatting with him about the barmaid at the pub we were in. He seemed to believe that she was interested in me in ways other than as a customer. I, rightly, told him he was a fool and a debate raged.Without getting in to the full details, we argued for a while and the main gist of mine, was that I was most definitely not the sort of person a young woman would be attracted to. He suggested differently and I said, in a fit of what I can only assume to be total idiocy, that I couldn't tell. I was too literal because, I was on the Autistic spectrum.My friend. That man I had known for twenty years, looked at me. I expected disgust, mistrust, confusion and instead, I got something else. "I know," he said. With those two words my world shattered.He knew, he'd known for a long time and more to the point, he'd not cared. He understood. I do not think I can adequately describe what that meant to me. I had always been the outsider, the one who was different, unable to find friends. I was strange, weird, different to others. The things I enjoyed were odd. He'd seen that and was my friend regardless.Autism can be hard on the people around us, more so because we don't realise it is being hard. To have someone know and not care... it was monumental. More so when he'd known for years and not bothered mentioning it because it wasn't needed. He was my friend no matter what.My friend, this incredible person, had known for years and had treated me the same. He'd been my friend. My best friend in fact and as a friend, he'd accepted my foibles and gone with it. If he had asked me right then, to rob a bank with him, I would have done so.Day to day life can be hard for me. I don't understand a lot of what other people take for granted and to have someone in my life who realised my difference, when my own family hadn't, who realised and didn't care... it was breathtaking.I can never adequately say how much his simple declaration meant to me. Words are not enough. He has been my best friend for twenty years and I can honestly say, I feel closer to him than ever before. I love him and always will, because he knows and understands who I am. Something I barely can understand.Richard

Hey there folks,While I am working on something, I come to a point where the story needs to percolate a bit in the old brain before I can continue. To occupy myself while I wait, I tend to work on other projects too. This is the prologue (first draft) of a story idea I had.Have a read, let me know what you think.Twelve men, armed with spears and wooden shields, stood guard outside the Cave of the Eternals. Each of them had trained since the age of eight, competing against each other to be one of those chosen for such an honoured task. To be so chosen, was to be declared before the whole of the great city state of Khalem, that they were the best, the elite. It had taken less than a minute for them to all to die.Captain Rami Natal, stared down at the bodies of the men she had known for more than a decade. Sprawled around the cave mouth, each bearing vicious wounds across their bodies and faces twisted in terror, the twelve bodies laid, eyeless sockets staring up at the sky.“What in the seven hels happened here?” she asked though she expected no answer.“That’s not the worst,” Magar said from beside the cave mouth.She looked to the sergeant, he stood with arms folded across his broad chest and sweat beading on his shaven skull, despite the cool breeze that pulled at his cloak. His leather cuirass creaked as he shifted his weight and after a glance down at the slowly spreading pool of blood, stepped one pace to the left.“Twelve of our finest, slaughtered like Katar and you suggest there’s worse to come?”Magar grunted in reply and tilted his head towards the cave. His usual calm expression had been replaced by one of distinct unease and her expression hardened. It couldn’t be avoided, she’d have to enter the thrice damned cave.“I sent Pel for a mage,” he said and her gaze shifted from the cave entrance back to him.“Why the hels did you do that?”“You’ll see,” the older man said and had the decency to look abashed as he added, “sent for high priest Damar too.”Rami groaned and shook her head which she immediately regretted as it only worsened the headache she had from the previous night’s festivities. She glanced back over her shoulder, down the thousand stone stairs to the southern gate of the city.People had already begun to gather, the news spreading quickly that something had happened. That wasn’t good. It meant that someone, either her commander, the high priest of Lord Khalem herself would want answers.“One day,” she said and Magar raised one eyebrow in query. “My year was up, I was due some time with my family,” she added as she rose to her feet and stretched. “If this had happened one bloody day later then it would have been someone else’s problem.”“Sorry Cap’n.”“What am I supposed to find in there?” she asked and his face went carefully blank.“Not sure I’d like to say Cap’n.”“If I order you to tell me?”“You wouldn’t believe me.”“That fills me with little confidence sergeant.”“Sorry Cap’n.”She took one last look down the steep stairs. The crowd at the gates had grown significantly, even in the short time since she’d last looked. Several men and women in the bright yellow and black of the city guard were trying to maintain some sort of order to little real effect. No one was actually climbing the hill though.One hand ran through her short dark hair as the other gripped the hilt of the longsword that hung at her waist. She had to fight down the urge to draw it. If there was any immediate danger close by, Magar would have been tenser than he already was. She sighed and stepped over the body of a young man she had once shared a drink or two with.The Cave of the Eternals may once have been a natural cave. Over the centuries though, various priests of the Radiant Son had taken it upon themselves to carve an entranceway from the surrounding stone.On either side of the rectangular opening, figures had been carved. Supposedly representations of the Eternals doing battle with the Enemy, but Rami had always thought them to be somehow wrong. Few shared her sentiment and the carvings were widely considered to be one of the great works of art, and were at least part of the reason many made pilgrimage to the cave.Above the entranceway, the usual prayer of homage to the Radiant Son had been chiselled into the stone, flanked on either side by the family emblem of Khalem on the left and the fiery disc of the order of the Radiant Son on the right.Captain Rami squinted as she stepped through that entranceway and the distant sounds of the city faded behind her. It was always disconcerting to her that no sounds from outside of the cave ever penetrated inside. It was against the natural order of things and only slightly better, was the light that filled the cavern.She had no idea where it came from but it illuminated the whole cave, more than she’d prefer. In two final steps, she reached the rope that was strung across the cave preventing further entry. A frown formed on her brow as she cast her gaze around the circular cavern in the vain hope that she would see what Magar seemed to think she needed to witness herself.Despite her role as Captain of the Watchful, those poor fools who were lying dead on the stairs beyond the cave, she rarely ever stepped inside. She had done once of course, it couldn’t be avoided when she had stood with those others as one of the Watchful. Since being promoted to Captain though, she had less reason to ever enter and no desire to do so at all.That didn’t mean that she was oblivious to the history and the legend that surrounded the cave. It was, after all, the first thing they had taught her, even before the weapons training and prayers. It had always been about the damn legend.The tale, as she had been told, was that more than a millennia before, the Radiant Son had taken human form to lead the people against the Enemy. It was a war that had lasted centuries and decimated most of the world and towards the end, it was the Enemy that was winning.In desperation, the Radiant Son had raised up seven human warriors of incredible bravery and honour. He’d given unto them, part of his power to use against the Enemy. The battles were furious and much blood was shed, but finally the seven warriors had cornered the Enemy at this very cave and sought to end the war for good.Of course, it hadn’t gone as planned. Nothing ever did in Rami’s experience. The seven warriors, each clad in their enchanted armour and bearing swords of shining silver had attacked the Enemy. Knowing what the outcome would be, the Enemy had unleashed a powerful spell, stopping time itself and freezing the warriors in place for eternity.“Something went wrong though,” Rami murmured to herself as she recalled the expression of devotion worn by the half blind old priest who had told her the tale. The Enemy had been caught in the spell too.There was more to the stories after that, more battles as the leaderless soldiers of the Enemy were driven back and finally defeated for good. The nauseous blessings of the Radiant Son as he departed from the world to once again take up his place in the heavens.The rest of it had always bored her. They were the usual tales told by priests everywhere, usually with some hidden meaning about being devout. But at least in the cave, no matter how disquieting it could be, was actual evidence of the legend being true.For anyone could walk into the cave, stop beside the rope and look into the centre of the cavern. The rope was there merely to tell them where the spell ended, no one could go further in that that, because beyond it, time had stopped.Heavy droplets of water hung suspended in the air, part way through falling from the ceiling. The seven warriors could be seen, frozen forever amongst the stalagmites with weapons raised as they sought the Enemy. The one sorrow being that the seven were arranged in such a manner that no one had even caught sight of the Enemy, hidden from views as it was by their armoured forms.“I don’t get it,” she said to the air as she stepped forward, the rope pressing against her legs. “What am I supposed to see?”She leaned forward and barely caught herself as she almost toppled over the rope. She stared down at it aghast. Always, the spell stopped anyone moving beyond the rope and the barrier she’d expected to lean against wasn’t there.With one hand, she reached out, over the rope. Her eyes widened as first her hand, then forearm went across the barrier. Her arm was almost fully extended before she felt the invisible, yet solid barrier beneath her hand.“Oh hels,” she said.Captain Rami Natal stepped out of the Cave of the Eternal, her expression grave and skin pale as though all colour had drained away. Her eyes met those of Magar for just a moment and understanding passed between them.“They’re almost here,” the sergeant said.“Hels,” was the only reply she could think of. She longed for a drink, any drink, but knew the chances of that anytime soon were slim.A large man came into view as he climbed the steps. His long white robes were rumpled as though they had been worn once already but been thrown on again in haste. Which they likely had.His eyes widened as he saw the carnage before the cave and his hands instinctively made the gesture of the Radiant Son, fingers interlocking to make a rough circular shape before his chest. His lips moved as he mumbled a prayer for the souls of the dead men.“What happened here?” he asked as he tore his gaze from the bodies and looked directly at the captain. “Raiders?”“No…” she replied and was grateful when several more priests appeared behind the rotund form of the high priest and voices rose in an almost hysterical babble.“Silence!” High Priest Damar snapped and pointed one chubby finger at Rami. “What happened here Captain? These men were under your care.”Rami’s eyes flicked to the sergeant who shook his head, the barest movement as his stared blankly ahead. His advice and counsel was always good, but surrounded by the bodies of those men she had known, had drunk with, had trained beside… she couldn’t find it in herself to care.She shrugged at the high priest and simply said, “The Enemy’s free.”

Hey folks,Just a quick message since I have a lot of places to update and limited time.The latest book in the Killing the Dead series is here :https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LXO4WGRI truly hope you all enjoy reading it.

There's this uncle. We all have one. You know what I mean, the guy who you know exists but maybe gets in touch once ever other year, usually when he needs something. Yeah. I'm that guy.To be fair, keeping in touch with people is hard. I call my mother once every six to eight weeks, my brothers every now and again, usually for a specific reason. Never to just say "How you been?"I can't help it. I mean nothing by it. I'm just really bad at keeping in touch with people. I suck at keeping in touch with friends, family and of course, you folks. You special few who actually bother to read this blog.It's not intentional and I certainly don't intend to be rude or ignorant, I just have trouble connecting with people and once connected, with maintaining that. I'm the sort of person who will call you after ten years and act as though it's been a couple of days, because in my mind, it's the same thing.You see, time doesn't matter. A day, a week, a month or even a decade... it's all the same. It certainly doesn't mean I think any less of you or appreciate you any different from... well, my family. I treat everyone the same, and while it could be argued that I treat everyone equally badly, at least I treat you all equally. That has to count for something right?Okay, we've established that I am a shitty friend, relative, casual acquaintance or whatever and that's fine. I own that. But I guess, I should really provide some info on what I've been up to for these last few months of ominous silence.The short answer is... not a lot. I know, it's not a great response and if you are one of those rare, almost mythical creatures, that is a fan of my work.. it's probably a really sucky answer. But hey, my dad died. I'm allowed to use that excuse for a couple more months yeah? I assume there's like a legitimate time limit on how long you're allowed to use that excuse. Hell, if there is, I hope my employer doesn't know about it because I'll milk that as long as possible.To be fair, while he did die. There was a funeral and everything. He even picked out a poem that is designed to make people cry as much as possible. It was just typical of him. Since then I have been caught up with all manner of bureaucracy. Do you know how much paperwork is involved in getting rid of a corpse? At times, I actually considered just treating it like removing the body of a murder victim and digging a shallow grave in the woods.As a result of all this nonsense, I have been a little pressed for time. In fact it is 00:22 in my part of the world as I write this and this is likely the first bit of 'quiet time' I've had in a while. That is of course discounting the text I just received from my fathers widow, asking me to meet up to fill out some new form or other. It never ends.So , I guess long story short, I had lots of plans for a release schedule this year and that has gone right out the window. On the plus side, I am currently writing again and as I read back through what I have, it is quite good if I say so myself. Not the writing, because I suck at that obviously, but the idea at least behind that is pretty darn cool. Things are happening, the stakes are rising and the proverbial brown stuff is hitting the fan. Good times.It's actually good to be back writing after nearly two months of very little productivity. It is enjoyable and I am as interested to know what will happen to those characters we love as the rest of you are. Here's a hint... it's nothing good. ;)That being the case, I plan on doing a few things before the end of the year. Please note the use of the word 'plan' since nothing ever seems to go right and after a couple of pretty hellish months where every possible thing that could go wrong did... well, I am preparing for anything.At least two books will be released. I would prefer three but I do need to factor in some editing time.The website, yes this place where I am writing this, will be updated at least once a month. More if anything interesting actually happens. (It probably won't.)More advertising and marketing will be done. You may not care about this since the only reason you are here is because you have acknowledged my existence, but I need to feed and clothe my children so the more people who read my stuff, the better.A zombie book and the third (likely final for that particular arc) of the Fallen series will be produced.A new series is coming. Time permitting, some more news of that will follow.If no news is forthcoming, I shall share various bits of writing about the characters we already know and love. A little more info on side characters and the like. Heck, more info on the main characters. Since Ryan is ridiculously silent on his own background and early life, I shall have to share some for him.And.. probably some other stuff but this post is already getting long and it is so late here. I should have been in bed an hour ago, seriously. I am old now.Anyhow, will post again soon. Till then, see ya.

I won't lie. The cover of my latest book is ... poor, to say the least. There is a reason and I'll share that here. The final proofreading from an outside eye, took longer than expected. I received it back just about the time I received word that my fathers health was deteriorating. In an effort to get it published and out there for him, I slapped together a cover and submitted to Amazon. A day later, I downloaded it to his kindle which seemed to please him.He never read it. He died two days

So a quick hello. Hi. Book 2 of the zombie series is with the proofreader (still) and as soon as I get it back it will be good to go. While waiting for that I have done a few things, most notably starting a half dozen new projects that were paused because they weren't quite right. Below, is the first, very rough draft, chapter of the work I hope to be continuing. Have a read, enjoy and I hope to have more info soon.   The city for once was silent. Each twisting road that snaked between the

Hey folks,

 

I am currently trying to sort all of my various sites into one place. Check out : http://richardmurray2.wix.com/rm-author. To visit my website and keep an eye on it for updates there.

 

Thanks,

 

Richard Murray

Season two has started rather well. Ryan and Lily are preparing to go to Scotland to find help for the people on the island and perhaps even a cure. Ryan has some issues to work out and as the journey begins, we learn a little something of why he has decided things can’t work for him and Lily. She, of course, has her own view on this and having briefly touched on what it must be like to be him, she is more determined than ever to understand his need to kill and perhaps help rid him of that need.

The next book in the series is underway and for anyone who has read the books thus far and visited this blog, here is the first chapter – a very rough draft – of the next book.

Enjoy,

Richard.

 

Chapter 1

Dark crimson fluid dripped from my blade and my hand trembled as the waves of pleasure suffused me. With no one to see, I gave in fully to that incredible feeling of rightness and allowed a rare and genuine smile to form.

The woman’s body had fallen to one side, her hands still bound and an expression of surprise the last that would ever cross her face. I’d removed the canvas bag that had been over her head so that I could look into her eyes as I took her life.

She’d made little noise as she died and that was good. The others who waited outside, they knew what I had come inside to do, that it was necessary and had to be done but still, they wouldn’t enjoy the fear and despair as much as I did.

As the pleasure began to fade all too soon, the world losing its colour and vibrancy, I stared down at her face and committed it to memory. Amy. She was called Amy, another name to add to my growing list.

That she had deserved death was not in dispute. She had been party to the deaths of several of my people, my community and worse than that. She had been complicit in the torment of Lily. Even were I a normal man; that alone would have been enough to incur my wrath. Being the killer, the empty shell of a human, the facsimile of a person… well, her death was a foregone conclusion and the reasons for it, merely a convenient excuse to take a life.

I pushed myself to my feet and paused for a moment more as I looked deep within myself. The all-consuming darkness was there, quietened, sated for the moment but ready to grow once more. Her death had filled that void inside of me for now, but how long before I would feel the need again I couldn’t say. All I knew was that the vast majority of the undead did nothing to feed that need that only death could quiet.

A noise from the other side of the wall caught my attention and my smile widened. I wondered if he’d heard her die and knew what was coming. If he waited there, fear filling him as he waited for the sound of my footsteps beyond the door, waiting for death to walk through.

The corpse was left where it lay. I had no intention of ever returning to the house and those of our community that were staying behind, well I doubted they would see the need. Safe on their island, they would see no point in visiting a house that had been looted long before.

In a few short steps I was outside the door to his room. I pushed the door open with one hand as I tightened my grip on the bloody knife handle with the other.

Inside the room was bare. We’d long since removed anything from the house that we could use. All that was left were the tattered curtains and threadbare carpet covered in all manner of stains. Condensation covered the window and black mold was on the walls. My remaining prisoner was sat cross-legged on the floor with his hands bound behind his back and a brown canvas bag over his head.

He tilted his head when the door opened as though he could see through the bag and my smile faded a little. He showed no sign of fear or distress. I stalked across the floor towards him and ripped the bag from his head and tossed it aside.

Marcus stared up at me and smiled showing crooked yellowed teeth. His face was framed by the thick reddish hair and beard that was badly in need of a comb. His eyes were bright and without fear.

“Feeding time already?” he asked.

My frown deepened as I stared at him. He could clearly see the bloody knife in my hand and that I didn’t carry a plate of the chopped pork that I had been feeding him for the last few days. He must have heard his lover’s death and yet he showed no reaction to that. It irked me.

“That experiment is done,” I said.

For the first time he seemed confused and then his smile widened as understanding came. His laughter filled the small room and only increased my irritation.

“Oh very good,” he said. “You know, I genuinely thought you were keeping us alive for some reason I couldn’t quite figure out. I get it now though. The meat was tainted and you wanted to know if it was safe to eat.”

He appeared genuinely amused and my knuckles whitened as my grip tightened on the knife. The urge to slice the blade across his throat was almost overwhelming but I held back, I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible.

“I know it was pork,” he continued. “Were they bitten? No, wait. You fed them zombie meat didn’t you?”

My expression must have told him he was right because his laughter redoubled. “Oh that’s rich,” he said between guffaws. “How delightfully fiendish.”

“You do understand the experiment is over don’t you?” I asked. “That means I no longer have a use for you.”

“Oh undoubtedly,” he said as he tried to wipe tear dampened cheeks against his shoulder. “You’ve already finished off Amy, I can see that. But when I think of the sort of man you must be to feed us infected meat just to see if it will turn us in to zombies, well… I can’t help but think of the wonderful things we could have done together.”

His body was shaking with his mirth and for some utterly alien reason I found the urge to kill him fading. I would, of that there was no doubt but I could feel no particular pleasure at the thought.

Despite his seeming amusement he kept a careful watch on my face and something he saw there emboldened him. “We have a lot in common.”

“We do?”

“Of course dear boy,” Marcus said. “You are a man who takes pleasure in death, I can see that clearly.”

I shrugged. No point denying it.

“You’ve killed often since this began… ah,” his smile widened. “Even before this?”

My frown deepened and I could feel a headache beginning. I’d spent little time with my prisoners over the last few days and I regretted letting him speak now.

“Oh how I envy you,” he continued. “Before all of this began, I was constrained by the laws of society. True, I had certain proclivities in the bedroom and the boardroom, but I was never truly free to be the man I am until the world ended.”

He paused and shook his head, his face seemed to be showing admiration. It was vexing to me when it should have been showing fear.

“You though. Well, you were free even before this weren’t you?” I ignored his pause where he waited for a response and he continued. “I admire that. We could have so much fun together.”

“No,” I said quietly. “Your life is going to end today. No more fun for you.”

“The woman?” he said. “Is that where this rage inside of you comes from? Because I hurt your woman?”

“Lily, her name is Lily.”

“She’s just a woman though,” he said with a look of surprise. “A toy to play with when the urge strikes but useful for little else. She isn’t even like us. Full of emotion and desire to care for others.”

“No,” I said. “You’re right. She isn’t like us and I can see now that you are entirely too like me. There’s no fear in there for you is there?”

The hilt of my knife tapped him on the forehead to emphasize my point. “No fear, no love, nothing but emptiness. Like me.”

“So it would seem,” he said. “Once we were the outsiders. Reviled for our inability to show compassion or empathy, to care for others.”

He said the last with a sneer and such a look of disgust that I couldn’t help but smile. I’d thought the same once upon a time.

“Not now though,” he continued. “Now, we are where we rightfully belong. Apex predators, feared and obeyed by the sheep.”

“Sheep?”

“Yes, sheep. Those people back at the island, that woman you protect,” he spat as though to clear his mouth of a foul taste. “They are nothing to us.”

“Perhaps once,” I said quietly.

“You don’t have feelings for them surely?” he said. “You can’t. You are just like me and we’re incapable of such emotions. Anything you think you feel is a fallacy. A desperate desire to be like the rest of them. Such a desire should have been left back in the old world.”

“I’m not like them,” I agreed. “But I don’t think I’m truly like you anymore either.”

“Of course you are,” he snapped with the faintest touch of anger colouring his tone. I glanced down at him and he flashed a raptors smile. “I know what it’s like. You have to pretend to fit in, to get what you want. Sometimes you forget that it’s pretence. You start to think that you’re feeling something, that there may be emotions there. They aren’t though.”

“No?”

“We don’t have emotions like they do. We feel lust and anger but none of those weaker feelings. We have no compassion, no guilt and no remorse. Can you truly tell me that you would feel anything if you walked away and never saw any of those people again?”

I had no answer to give and he took my silence for agreement. “You wouldn’t because they are nothing to you but tools. Kept alive when useful and discarded when not.”

“That what you really believe?” I asked.

“Yes!” he said. “They are nothing to us and together, well together we could rule them.”

With a sigh I shook my head and crossed to the window. A quick swipe of my hand removed enough of the condensation for me to see through. They were down there, leant against the wall, heads together as they spoke.

Gregg was six foot in height with dark skin and a fuzz of hair across his scalp. He cut it short like the rest of us to avoid lice and having to keep it clean. He wore a perpetual expression of worry these days and glanced at the house often as he spoke.

She stood beside him, arms crossed and the weight of the world on those shoulders. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and her face still bore bruises from the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of the man behind me.

Her form was slim and her clothes hung loose. That was as much because of the poor diet we’d had over the winter as much as for comfort. Being whipped with a leather belt left one with a desire to avoid tight clothing.

The two of them were waiting for me to finish my business with the prisoners. Neither truly happy with the taking of a life but aware of the need. They were growing comfortable with killing the undead but neither would ever take any pleasure in taking the life of another.

Not that that had stopped her when it was needed. She had done what was required to protect her people and several of Marcus’s group had died at her hand. Her natural desire to protect and care for others would no doubt mean that soon, she would suffer the guilt of what she had done. That didn’t for one minute take away how proud of her I was though.

“They are my friends,” I said softly.

“What?”

“Some of those people at the island are my friends,” I repeated as I turned to face him. “I’d never had friends before this happened.”

I gestured to indicate the world and the apocalypse that had ended it. A look of puzzlement crossed his face and I considered my words. As much for my benefit as for his, I needed to articulate it.

“The feelings they have for one another, I can’t understand. I think I have begun to want to though,” I paused, perhaps afraid that to give voice to the next words would somehow change everything. “Something is growing within me. It’s so very small but it is there, something beneath the pain and the darkness, beneath the emptiness. Something that is there because of those friends, but mainly because of her.”

“Your woman,” he spat.

“Lily,” I corrected gently. “She has changed something inside of me and it is at odds with who I am, with what I am.”

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, my head turned just enough that I could see her through the glass.

“A war has been started inside of me,” I said. “Something strange is fighting against the darkness and the longer I am with her, the stronger it grows. At times I have even felt somewhat close to being at peace.”

“Pathetic,” Marcus said and I nodded. How could I disagree? It was how I would have described it myself just a short time ago.

“I agree,” I said. “Which is why I will be leaving soon. I cannot be what she needs and that thing she has started inside of me will destroy the man I am. To ensure she survives this, to ensure she lives, I will need to be the person I was. The killer.”

“Then leave with me,” Marcus said. “Together we will sow death across this land. With nothing to hold us back, we will be unstoppable.”

“As tempting as that is, I am afraid that I cannot,” I said as I pushed myself away from the wall.

“Why not?” he asked. “We don’t even have to kill your woman if you don’t want to. We’ll find others to torment.”

“You forget one thing,” I said as I stopped behind him and placed my free hand on his shoulder as l leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You hurt her.”

My wickedly sharp blade sliced easily through the flesh of his neck, leaving behind it a thin red line that split apart as blood gushed through. I held on to him as he thrashed and gurgled, struggling against his bonds.

I held him as he died and while I felt less joy than with his death than I had at Amy’s, I did feel a great deal of satisfaction.

Season two has started rather well. Ryan and Lily are preparing to go to Scotland to find help for the people on the island and perhaps even a cure. Ryan has some issues to work out and as the journey begins, we learn a little something of why he has decided things can’t work for him and Lily. She, of course, has her own view on this and having briefly touched on what it must be like to be him, she is more determined than ever to understand his need to kill and perhaps help rid him of that need.

The next book in the series is underway and for anyone who has read the books thus far and visited this blog, here is the first chapter – a very rough draft – of the next book.

Enjoy,

Richard.

 

Chapter 1

Dark crimson fluid dripped from my blade and my hand trembled as the waves of pleasure suffused me. With no one to see, I gave in fully to that incredible feeling of rightness and allowed a rare and genuine smile to form.

The woman’s body had fallen to one side, her hands still bound and an expression of surprise the last that would ever cross her face. I’d removed the canvas bag that had been over her head so that I could look into her eyes as I took her life.

She’d made little noise as she died and that was good. The others who waited outside, they knew what I had come inside to do, that it was necessary and had to be done but still, they wouldn’t enjoy the fear and despair as much as I did.

As the pleasure began to fade all too soon, the world losing its colour and vibrancy, I stared down at her face and committed it to memory. Amy. She was called Amy, another name to add to my growing list.

That she had deserved death was not in dispute. She had been party to the deaths of several of my people, my community and worse than that. She had been complicit in the torment of Lily. Even were I a normal man; that alone would have been enough to incur my wrath. Being the killer, the empty shell of a human, the facsimile of a person… well, her death was a foregone conclusion and the reasons for it, merely a convenient excuse to take a life.

I pushed myself to my feet and paused for a moment more as I looked deep within myself. The all-consuming darkness was there, quietened, sated for the moment but ready to grow once more. Her death had filled that void inside of me for now, but how long before I would feel the need again I couldn’t say. All I knew was that the vast majority of the undead did nothing to feed that need that only death could quiet.

A noise from the other side of the wall caught my attention and my smile widened. I wondered if he’d heard her die and knew what was coming. If he waited there, fear filling him as he waited for the sound of my footsteps beyond the door, waiting for death to walk through.

The corpse was left where it lay. I had no intention of ever returning to the house and those of our community that were staying behind, well I doubted they would see the need. Safe on their island, they would see no point in visiting a house that had been looted long before.

In a few short steps I was outside the door to his room. I pushed the door open with one hand as I tightened my grip on the bloody knife handle with the other.

Inside the room was bare. We’d long since removed anything from the house that we could use. All that was left were the tattered curtains and threadbare carpet covered in all manner of stains. Condensation covered the window and black mold was on the walls. My remaining prisoner was sat cross-legged on the floor with his hands bound behind his back and a brown canvas bag over his head.

He tilted his head when the door opened as though he could see through the bag and my smile faded a little. He showed no sign of fear or distress. I stalked across the floor towards him and ripped the bag from his head and tossed it aside.

Marcus stared up at me and smiled showing crooked yellowed teeth. His face was framed by the thick reddish hair and beard that was badly in need of a comb. His eyes were bright and without fear.

“Feeding time already?” he asked.

My frown deepened as I stared at him. He could clearly see the bloody knife in my hand and that I didn’t carry a plate of the chopped pork that I had been feeding him for the last few days. He must have heard his lover’s death and yet he showed no reaction to that. It irked me.

“That experiment is done,” I said.

For the first time he seemed confused and then his smile widened as understanding came. His laughter filled the small room and only increased my irritation.

“Oh very good,” he said. “You know, I genuinely thought you were keeping us alive for some reason I couldn’t quite figure out. I get it now though. The meat was tainted and you wanted to know if it was safe to eat.”

He appeared genuinely amused and my knuckles whitened as my grip tightened on the knife. The urge to slice the blade across his throat was almost overwhelming but I held back, I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible.

“I know it was pork,” he continued. “Were they bitten? No, wait. You fed them zombie meat didn’t you?”

My expression must have told him he was right because his laughter redoubled. “Oh that’s rich,” he said between guffaws. “How delightfully fiendish.”

“You do understand the experiment is over don’t you?” I asked. “That means I no longer have a use for you.”

“Oh undoubtedly,” he said as he tried to wipe tear dampened cheeks against his shoulder. “You’ve already finished off Amy, I can see that. But when I think of the sort of man you must be to feed us infected meat just to see if it will turn us in to zombies, well… I can’t help but think of the wonderful things we could have done together.”

His body was shaking with his mirth and for some utterly alien reason I found the urge to kill him fading. I would, of that there was no doubt but I could feel no particular pleasure at the thought.

Despite his seeming amusement he kept a careful watch on my face and something he saw there emboldened him. “We have a lot in common.”

“We do?”

“Of course dear boy,” Marcus said. “You are a man who takes pleasure in death, I can see that clearly.”

I shrugged. No point denying it.

“You’ve killed often since this began… ah,” his smile widened. “Even before this?”

My frown deepened and I could feel a headache beginning. I’d spent little time with my prisoners over the last few days and I regretted letting him speak now.

“Oh how I envy you,” he continued. “Before all of this began, I was constrained by the laws of society. True, I had certain proclivities in the bedroom and the boardroom, but I was never truly free to be the man I am until the world ended.”

He paused and shook his head, his face seemed to be showing admiration. It was vexing to me when it should have been showing fear.

“You though. Well, you were free even before this weren’t you?” I ignored his pause where he waited for a response and he continued. “I admire that. We could have so much fun together.”

“No,” I said quietly. “Your life is going to end today. No more fun for you.”

“The woman?” he said. “Is that where this rage inside of you comes from? Because I hurt your woman?”

“Lily, her name is Lily.”

“She’s just a woman though,” he said with a look of surprise. “A toy to play with when the urge strikes but useful for little else. She isn’t even like us. Full of emotion and desire to care for others.”

“No,” I said. “You’re right. She isn’t like us and I can see now that you are entirely too like me. There’s no fear in there for you is there?”

The hilt of my knife tapped him on the forehead to emphasize my point. “No fear, no love, nothing but emptiness. Like me.”

“So it would seem,” he said. “Once we were the outsiders. Reviled for our inability to show compassion or empathy, to care for others.”

He said the last with a sneer and such a look of disgust that I couldn’t help but smile. I’d thought the same once upon a time.

“Not now though,” he continued. “Now, we are where we rightfully belong. Apex predators, feared and obeyed by the sheep.”

“Sheep?”

“Yes, sheep. Those people back at the island, that woman you protect,” he spat as though to clear his mouth of a foul taste. “They are nothing to us.”

“Perhaps once,” I said quietly.

“You don’t have feelings for them surely?” he said. “You can’t. You are just like me and we’re incapable of such emotions. Anything you think you feel is a fallacy. A desperate desire to be like the rest of them. Such a desire should have been left back in the old world.”

“I’m not like them,” I agreed. “But I don’t think I’m truly like you anymore either.”

“Of course you are,” he snapped with the faintest touch of anger colouring his tone. I glanced down at him and he flashed a raptors smile. “I know what it’s like. You have to pretend to fit in, to get what you want. Sometimes you forget that it’s pretence. You start to think that you’re feeling something, that there may be emotions there. They aren’t though.”

“No?”

“We don’t have emotions like they do. We feel lust and anger but none of those weaker feelings. We have no compassion, no guilt and no remorse. Can you truly tell me that you would feel anything if you walked away and never saw any of those people again?”

I had no answer to give and he took my silence for agreement. “You wouldn’t because they are nothing to you but tools. Kept alive when useful and discarded when not.”

“That what you really believe?” I asked.

“Yes!” he said. “They are nothing to us and together, well together we could rule them.”

With a sigh I shook my head and crossed to the window. A quick swipe of my hand removed enough of the condensation for me to see through. They were down there, leant against the wall, heads together as they spoke.

Gregg was six foot in height with dark skin and a fuzz of hair across his scalp. He cut it short like the rest of us to avoid lice and having to keep it clean. He wore a perpetual expression of worry these days and glanced at the house often as he spoke.

She stood beside him, arms crossed and the weight of the world on those shoulders. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and her face still bore bruises from the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of the man behind me.

Her form was slim and her clothes hung loose. That was as much because of the poor diet we’d had over the winter as much as for comfort. Being whipped with a leather belt left one with a desire to avoid tight clothing.

The two of them were waiting for me to finish my business with the prisoners. Neither truly happy with the taking of a life but aware of the need. They were growing comfortable with killing the undead but neither would ever take any pleasure in taking the life of another.

Not that that had stopped her when it was needed. She had done what was required to protect her people and several of Marcus’s group had died at her hand. Her natural desire to protect and care for others would no doubt mean that soon, she would suffer the guilt of what she had done. That didn’t for one minute take away how proud of her I was though.

“They are my friends,” I said softly.

“What?”

“Some of those people at the island are my friends,” I repeated as I turned to face him. “I’d never had friends before this happened.”

I gestured to indicate the world and the apocalypse that had ended it. A look of puzzlement crossed his face and I considered my words. As much for my benefit as for his, I needed to articulate it.

“The feelings they have for one another, I can’t understand. I think I have begun to want to though,” I paused, perhaps afraid that to give voice to the next words would somehow change everything. “Something is growing within me. It’s so very small but it is there, something beneath the pain and the darkness, beneath the emptiness. Something that is there because of those friends, but mainly because of her.”

“Your woman,” he spat.

“Lily,” I corrected gently. “She has changed something inside of me and it is at odds with who I am, with what I am.”

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, my head turned just enough that I could see her through the glass.

“A war has been started inside of me,” I said. “Something strange is fighting against the darkness and the longer I am with her, the stronger it grows. At times I have even felt somewhat close to being at peace.”

“Pathetic,” Marcus said and I nodded. How could I disagree? It was how I would have described it myself just a short time ago.

“I agree,” I said. “Which is why I will be leaving soon. I cannot be what she needs and that thing she has started inside of me will destroy the man I am. To ensure she survives this, to ensure she lives, I will need to be the person I was. The killer.”

“Then leave with me,” Marcus said. “Together we will sow death across this land. With nothing to hold us back, we will be unstoppable.”

“As tempting as that is, I am afraid that I cannot,” I said as I pushed myself away from the wall.

“Why not?” he asked. “We don’t even have to kill your woman if you don’t want to. We’ll find others to torment.”

“You forget one thing,” I said as I stopped behind him and placed my free hand on his shoulder as l leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You hurt her.”

My wickedly sharp blade sliced easily through the flesh of his neck, leaving behind it a thin red line that split apart as blood gushed through. I held on to him as he thrashed and gurgled, struggling against his bonds.

I held him as he died and while I felt less joy than with his death than I had at Amy’s, I did feel a great deal of satisfaction.