Plague Of The Revenants Read Online Free

revenants already beginning to converge at the sight of us, rattling the chain links of the fencing as they sought to break through to us. Blake stepped out in front of us and held a megaphone to his leering lips. “Alright you cunts!” He exclaimed gleefully. “It’s time to get your hands dirty. So far you’ve been lucky. You’ve been able to sit in your comfy cells and listen to all this shit going on via the radios which means you should all be expects on our friends over here by now.” He gestured towards the revenants beyond the perimeter fencing. “But this ends now, do you understand me? The government, or what remains of it, has decided you’re all going to make yourselves useful. After all, why should good, honest people put their lives at risk fighting the worst plague we’ve ever seen in our history when we’ve got a whole other kind of living cancer putting their feet up in the warm?” He gestured towards one of the turnstiles which had been marked out in bright red paint. “Though that tunnel you’ll find hats, gloves, jackets and spades. You’re all to take one each and get to work. You’re going to be digging, and after that you’re going to be burning. You’re going to do this until you’re either dead or I tell you to stop. And don’t start getting the wrong idea my little heroes. There’s going to be no reprieve for good service here. You’re just as dead as the poor fuckers you’re going to be burying. The only question is how long will you get to live and will the Almighty pull off a miracle in the nick of time to see you rammed safely back into your own little pits of hell?”
    The bodies came in trucks. The diggers made deep holes in the stadium over forty feet deep. We took the bodies and covered them up with a thin layer of dirt then moved on to the next ones. Sometimes, often in fact, the bodies were not completely put down, would turn and snap like a rattlesnake into the arm or even the throat of one of the prisoners. When that happened a guard would charge down the line and the prisoner would be cut down in a hail of bullets. We were worked eighteen hours per day. Those who did not work hard enough disappeared in the middle of the night. You didn’t need three guesses to work out what had happened to them. Here in the confines of this stadium Blake ruled the roost. He was the supreme tyrant, the dictator, the living God amongst us all. Blake was in his element. He was loving the chaos and the destruction and I saw him take down revenants with gusto. “Come along you little fuckers!” He roared triumphantly. “Let’s see what you can do!”

We slept on waste ground just outside the stadium which in turn was surrounded by a flimsy wire fence. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, but they were only half there to protect us. The guards were shitting themselves as well, and here only because they were isolated and had nowhere else to go. It was absurd to continue burying bodies in the stadium when things were as bad as this but somewhere somebody was still clinging on to the semblance of the old bureaucracy. The revenants pressed up against the metal fencing as we tried to sleep. We all knew it was only a matter of time. At night we heard the screams and moans of the revenants attacking the ever decreasing band of survivors. Sometimes we would see survivors dashing up to the railings and rattling them hard, begging to be let in. I remember thinking it must truly have come to something if the living actually sought refuge in a hellhole such as this. The guards started to desert, vanishing off into the night. Some of the prisoners refused to work and embraced the welcome death of the machine guns. Only Blake seemed above it, Blake and myself. I knew I had nothing to live for, had given up completely and it was going to take more than the end of the world as we knew it to get me to start caring now. We weren’t expected to live, us prisoners, it was not figured into the