***
The group rushed pell-mell from Mayfair, retreating several blocks with the gentlemen flanking the two ladies, until John Ross took a look around, declaring quite furiously. “Who’s a cad now! Seems we’ve lost ourselves in London’s cesspit!”
“Language, Mister Ross.” Chided Parry, ever a gentleman. Normally admiring gallantry of any form, Jane glanced at the crumbling tenements and shuttered grog shops. The few sputtering lamps were fewer, the glass plates filthier with grime and soot. She could hardly see her own hand held before her face, let alone zombies. Finding she had to concur with the rough-spoken John Ross, his assessment was entirely accurate.
“I told you it was that way!” Ross ragged in the background to no one in particular. Parry and Franklin put their heads together and quietly conferred about the best way to reach the docks. “I don’t recall you ever pointing the way.” Barrow replied coolly, also slightly miffed that they’d gotten lost in terra unfamiliaris. Who knew there were parts of London unknown to even him?
“You would say that! Always trying to discredit me!”
“Uncle, now is not the time to be laying blame.” James interrupted sensibly, finally taking head count. “Hey, has anyone seen Frank?”
“Frank, who?”
“Francis! Egad, don’t tell me he stayed behind?! We have to go find him!”
“Who’s Frank?” Eleanor asked aloud, absolutely positive she hadn’t seen anybody unrecognizable in their group. Jane had a vague recollection of a gawky youth with an equally blank expression perpetually on his round-cheeked face. “Just the porter.”
“Oh, just an Irish lad, dear. No one important. The only real loss is our baggage.” Franklin replied dismissively. Beside him, Parry rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner, “he was a damned good Midshipman too. Ah well. Things happen.” He nodded to James’s concern. “Best let it go, Mister Ross. Francis would understand.”
“But...but, I can’t believe you!” The younger Ross burst out impetuously, his temper fraying. “He’s my friend! If you’re not going to help, then I’m going to look for him by myself!”
“My boy’s got a good heart.” John Ross grunted, hoping he didn’t sound too sentimental. “I’ll accompany you, James.”
“Good riddance.” John Barrow was heard to have muttered, pulling his overcoat snugger around his eleven-stone frame. “Can we get a move on it now? Before more of those...things, come out?”
“No, I think it best if Mister Barrow goes with the Rosses.” Parry affected proper regret despite Franklin’s dubious look. “I myself would sally forth to assist young Crozier, but regrettably Mister Franklin and the ladies require my protection more.”
“I can take care of my wife, thank you very much, William!” Franklin snappishly muttered, adding, “and Miss Griffin as well.” Jane and he shared another warm look to Eleanor’s annoyance.
“Why Mister Barrow?” James asked, confused.
“Because, your uncle has a tendency to get hopelessly lost.” Parry remarked perfunctorily to the elder Ross’s noise of indignation. “In an hour’s time we’ll...” his eyes slid about meaningfully, “we’ll regroup here in this Square. Godspeed to the three of you.”
Zombies! The Fall of London Page 12