The Killing Begins

By Ralph Halse

As Kitch, Jamil, Marie, and Casey work to hold the castle, they train daily for the fight they know is coming. When it’s obvious a looming defeat, capture, and torture are approaching, Kitch implements his hidden contingency plan.

Haberfield and his brutal lieutenant, Juan, escape in the confusion. Juan decides at that moment, he will take the castle for himself. First, he must deal with Kitch, then Haberfield.

Meanwhile, Kitch has some life and death situations to deal with. To save Fatima and the children, Kitch must enter a castle filled with the infected, retrieve two horses, armour, and food. If he fails to do this within a given time, hostages will be killed.

Surviving clusters of humanity ruthlessly battle not only the infected, but they butcher each other for shelter, food, clean water, and a haven to call home. When you are a nineteen-year-old Tourette’s suffer in a dog-eat-dog environment, life and death are reduced to simple terms—kill or be consumed!

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Oct 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781487427177

Book preview

No one could have predicted the way in which the deadly plague spread or indeed, with such rapidity. Across the globe, inoculations ceased with nineteen-year-olds.

As Kitch, Jamil, Marie, and Casey work to hold the castle, they train daily for the fight they know is coming. When it’s obvious a looming defeat, capture, and torture are approaching, Kitch implements his hidden contingency plan.

Haberfield and his brutal lieutenant, Juan, escape in the confusion. Juan decides at that moment, he will take the castle for himself. First, he must deal with Kitch, then Haberfield.

Meanwhile, Kitch has some life and death situations to deal with. To save Fatima and the children, Kitch must enter a castle filled with the infected, retrieve two horses, armour, and food. If he fails to do this within a given time, hostages will be killed.

Surviving clusters of humanity ruthlessly battle not only the infected, but they butcher each other for shelter, food, clean water, and a haven to call home. When you are a nineteen-year-old Tourette’s suffer in a dog-eat-dog environment, life and death are reduced to simple terms—kill or be consumed!

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Killing Begins

Copyright © 2021 Ralph F. Halse

ISBN: 978-1-4874-2717-7

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books Inc

Look for us online at:

www.eXtasybooks.com

Smashwords Edition

The Killing Begins

Survival 3

By

Ralph F. Halse

Chapter One: New tricks

Kitch bunched his muscles. Perspiration broke out on his brow as he heaved on the makeshift barrier. The boom propelled the trapped, moaning infected toward the castle’s front gate, where Jamil waited with weapons drawn. Marie stood on the wall, ready to release her arrows. As soon as the infected sighted or smelled the living—Kitch was never certain which sense they used because of their milky-white eyes—they reacted violently.

Marie commenced dropping the infected with well-placed arrows to the forehead the moment she had a clear shot. An unsteady Jamil holding a boar spear acted as a backup. As Marie lowered her bow, Jamil carefully checked the bodies by prodding them with his spear point. He need not have bothered because they all knew Marie was an excellent archer by now. They were all dead.

After putting on bandannas to keep out the stink and decay, they dragged the bodies one at a time toward the centre of the road and set them on fire. Kitch and Casey led the horses into the castle grounds. One shied as flaming human fat crackled on the roasting infected. Gagging at the awful stink, Casey soon had it under control, uttering soothing words. Fatima greeted Casey warmly by the rear door and welcomed her to her new home—the castle. A delightful smell of food cooking permeated the air, and Casey was soon smiling, the sizzling infected seemingly forgotten. As Kitch and Casey unpacked the saddle bags, Marie informed them Fatima had taken over not only the small medical station but the kitchen and management of the castle’s daily routine.

Casey instructed Kitch, Marie, and Jamil on how to groom the horses and what was required in the way of water troughs, shelter, food supplies, and storage.

We can provide horse stalls and other essentials, I think, Kitch said, leading the trio to the rear of the castle. Along the western and northern walls stood a series of small timber structures used for storage of unwanted goods. Several were filled to the roof with bales of hay. Each structure’s opening faced a long, narrow strip of sandy land separated by a single length of joined timber supported by posts at three-yard intervals. At the end of which hung strange-looking wooden dummies attached to a swivel pole. The dummies had yard-long arms, to which were attached buckets suspended on wires.

This area, Kitch said, pointing as the others gathered around. "Was used on weekends and holidays to display an ancient sport called jousting. Two knights or warriors carrying lances would mount horses. For the amusement of a paying crowd, they charged each on horseback to see who could knock the other off."

Casey took a quick look around. There’s water troughs, feed bags, grains, and horse grooming implements, so that’s good. After she wandered over to the forge, Casey returned with a serious look on her young face.

What is it? Kitch asked, fearful something was wrong, so much rested on the ability to use these huge animals for defence.

One of the most important things about horses is their health. The forge is full of horseshoes that look as if they’ve been made in the traditional style. Gramps, Pa, and my brothers shoed our horses. I know how to do it, and I’ve tried. To be honest, I’m not strong enough. One of you will have to do it, she said with finality. I’ll show you how.

Kitch shrugged. Like Jamil, he was prepared to step up to do whatever was required. It was that or face death or worse at Junior’s hands.

* * * *

Over the next five days, Casey worked them hard from well before dawn to long after dark at Kitch’s insistence. Each evening, she sent Jamil, Kitch, and Marie to shower before bed with aching thighs, blistered hands, and red-raw calves. Only to wake the following morning to repeat the process. She taught them how to groom, mount, and ride a horse without falling off. Casey instructed them to choose their horse by nature, feeding preferences, health checks, shoes, and saddlery gear maintenance. Her riding lessons commenced with simple tasks like mounting and dismounting, walking, trotting, and then falling back to a walk. It was evident to Casey from the outset that Jamil was scared of horses, Kitch was wary, and Marie loved them all.

By the end of the first week, Marie was the only student who took to riding with ease. She moved rhythmically in time with her mount and never seemed to be at odds with the motion. She was able to draw her bow and hit a target. Kitch and Jamil bobbed about like corks in stormy water, grimly hanging on for dear life.

During a morning meal break, Casey assessed Jamil and Kitch as they compared aches and the size of blisters. She knew the boys were trying hard, perhaps too hard. In her experience, that was why many older tourists complained of a rough ride—while their children and grandchildren experienced a different, more pleasurable experience. Accepting her mug of coffee, Casey studied the weary teenagers. In her previous life, Casey was permitted much latitude, training older folk and teenagers. Back then, that was for credits to support her family business. This was different. If these three failed, she faced the prospect of joining her family as an infected. That sent shivers of terror up her spine.

You’re trying too hard, she remarked, looking at Kitch and Jamil with a frank expression.

We want to do this right, Jamil responded with steam pouring off his wet head.

Think about Marie when she rides. Can you see the difference between what she does and what you two do?

The two boys shook their heads.

Marie, would you canter toward the rear wall, turn, and walk parallel to the stables, then perform a short, sharp gallop, coming to a quick stop here?

Love to, Marie responded. Tossing back the last of her coffee, she leaped nimbly onto her saddle. With a sharp kick, she took off as instructed.

Watch, Casey said. Describe what you see.

Frowning, both boys stood side by side, arms folded, watching Marie hurl her mount around the jousting area before skidding to a halt, to dismount in a single, sliding movement by throwing one leg over her saddle. Marie was showing off and laughed at making the boys envious.

Do you see the difference between your styles? Casey asked, stroking under her mount’s jaw as it crunched on a fresh carrot brought up from Molly’s place.

The boys shook their heads.

Boys! Mom was right. Most can’t find the butter in the refrigerator, even when it’s staring them in the face. How they performed complicated tasks only seen once, requiring muscle-power, was a mystery. Okay, let me put it this way. What is Marie doing now?

Kitch shrugged. Jamil sounded as though he was guessing, Walking?

Look at her face. She’s smiling. Marie found that ride pleasurable. You two view this as a job to be mastered to perfection. Yes, you’re right. It must be second-nature. Something you enjoy, not endure. Mount up. Don’t touch the reins apart from laying them across your thighs. I want you to use your knees. Urge your mounts around the yard with words. Talk gently to them, stroke their necks. When you’ve finished, don’t complain about your aches. Give them an apple and some carrots during your grooming.

Kitch and Jamil did as they were instructed. They soon had their mounts performing and nudging them for more treats.

The following dawn, after their chores had been performed, they stood by their mounts facing Casey, awaiting her instructions. This morning, after you mount, put these on. She kneed her mount forward to hand over three blindfolds.

Marie mounted. Without hesitation, she tied her blindfold into place. Kitch and Jamil looked at the blindfolds as if they were holding live snakes. Reluctantly, they mounted and did as instructed.

Okay, Casey called in a confident voice. Go through your paces.

We can’t see, Kitch protested.

What if we fall off? Jamil chimed in.

You won’t. Horses aren’t dumb. They’re highly intelligent. They’ll know you can’t see. Trust them. You want to be a team, remember that. You must trust your instincts and your mount’s. Go slowly, Casey insisted.

* * * *

Kitch gripped his reins, and for the first time in weeks, suppressed a shoulder spasm. Taking a deep breath, he used his knees to urge his mount forward. Unconsciously, his knee grip became firmer. Nervous, he found himself softly talking to his mount. While Kitch couldn’t be certain, he sensed his mount stepping cautiously, as if she knew he couldn’t see. Within seconds, he relaxed to feel his ride through his body. Almost immediately, a pain in his back that had been plaguing him disappeared, as did an ache between his shoulders. Kitch was able to know where he was by the horse’s pace and turns. Soon his mount was drawing to a halt, and he was removing his blindfold.

Okay, I get it now. Kitch beamed with delight to a nodding Jamil.

I’m going to leave you three now, while I inventory our supplies, Casey said. Twice more around the walls, then you practice with your bows at a walk and later, a trot.

The trio talked through the principles behind the jousting dummies. They were eager to test their skills. All acknowledged, dropping an infected and a Viking from a safe distance on horseback with an arrow was a safer proposition. Engaging with a boar spear or sword brought them up close and personal with lethal adversaries.

By the time Casey returned, all three were riding easily and able to let loose an arrow, hit a target, and restring their bows at a short, hard run. Kitch watched as Casey set half a dozen cabbages from Molly’s garden at equal intervals along the jousting rail. Casey had told them that she’d played polo from the age of eight as a junior competitor, so she was able to offer expert instruction on aimed sword strokes. The trio listened and were soon lopping imaginary heads with ease.

Casey pointed to the placed cabbages on small posts almost opposite each other, explaining how to cut first in one direction, then lean in the opposite direction to smoothly perform the same act, backhanded. They practiced those skills from