“You’re meant to say over and out.”
“Well, you’re meant to say it back.”
“Shut it, and put the kettle on.”
“Over and out.” Tate clicked off.
The docks were more than two hundred miles from the factory. We stopped only to fill up the petrol tank when we heard screams. Our little blood caravan, as Nicholas so crudely nicknamed it, was growing with every stop.
Both Nicholas and I needed to sleep soon, although we couldn’t do nine hours with Philippe and his ever growing army on our trail and Tate waiting for us, endangering him and his people’s lives in the process. I was tired. I was getting hungry again. I’d only had a small amount of John’s blood, and I could feel the inevitable pang clawing at my chest. I morphed the feeling to battle lust. Every zombie I met was decapitated with swift, ruthless precision.
Nicholas’ quips and snide comments were also lagging. He’d taken to just staring at me, a confused yet sated look that made me feel like gravity had cranked itself up a notch. I’d saved him. I could have easily, and justly, let him die at Philippe’s hands, but I didn’t. My logical mind told me that he was a good fighter and could be trusted with our wards. He might have been an enemy in the past, but he was an ally now—an annoying and incredibly sarcastic ally. My instinctual side, though, my lizard brain, the thing that still whispered demands of blood and death in my ear—well, it now whispered something else that I really didn’t want to face.
“You need to rest,” Josh said as we filled up at another random service station.
My eyes were searching the surrounding buildings for signs of the undead. Jack was seated with the kids, reading them the book I’d stolen from the museum.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, Langdon, I heard you,” I replied.
“Langdon?”
“Oh, sorry, Josh.”
“Who’s Langdon?”
“Who was Langdon?” Nicholas asked from behind us.
“Not now,” I yelled back at him.
“No, who was Langdon?” Josh pressed.
“You look just like him, Josh. He was Brianna’s first and only love.”
“Shut up!” I spun round, and he caught my fist in mid-air.
“She thinks that you are Langdon reincarnated. Are you?” Nicholas’ lips were turned up in a cruel smile.
“I don’t believe in reincarnation,” Josh said, trying to step between us.
“Do you love her, Josh?” Nicholas had thrown me to the floor, and was squaring off as best he could with Josh, who had a couple of inches of height on him. “Do you love a woman so tangled in her own convictions and vengeance that she has killed thousands to avenge a man who forgot her the moment she left his sight?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Josh said as he leaned down and put a hand out to me.
I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. I felt his arm around my shoulders, warm, protective…
“I think you need to walk it off, friend,” Josh continued.
Nicholas snorted. “I don’t believe in reincarnation either. It’s why I went against the rules of the Elders and created Brianna. If she had remained human, I would have lost her when she died. What a fool I was to think she could ever love me.” His eyes dropped and a tear fell to the concrete floor. “I settled for your hate, Britannia. I encouraged it. I don’t believe in soul mates reborn, but I do believe in fate. The one chance I had to prove myself to you, and he shows up.” He pointed at Josh. Nicholas wobbled a little as he said it. The lack of sleep had pushed him into an almost drunken state.
Josh pulled me to his chest, and I felt his heartbeat quicken. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, making his blood smell that much sweeter. I wriggled from his embrace. “Please go check on the others, Josh,” I said.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“It’s okay. I’ll explain everything later, okay?”
He leaned and kissed my cheek. “Sure.” He then walked off to join the group of wards on look-out.
“What a lovely couple you make,” Nicholas spat out, and bowed.
“Really, Nicholas, is now the time to have this argument?”
“I kept this for you,” Nicholas said as he reached into his jacket pocket.
“You better not pull out anything gross, Nicholas. I’ve had it up to here”—I motioned over my head, above both our heights—“with gross things this week.”
“It’s not gross, it’s proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Here.” He handed me a folded piece of old brown paper.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Proof that I didn’t kill Langdon. Proof that he lived.”
What? I opened the paper and was suddenly staring at the obituary of the man I had loved for four hundred years. It read:
Captain Langdon Price died yesterday, aged 76. After retiring from the army, Captain Price ran a successful accounting firm. Beloved husband of Jayne. He will be missed dearly.
One word stuck out. “Husband.” Not only had he lived, but he’d gotten married. Our eternal, gut-wrenching love had been forgotten. He hadn’t looked for me after my disappearance. Out of sight, out of mind. He’d easily replaced me with a woman called Jayne.
“I’m sorry, Brianna. It seemed better not to press the argument with you, for you to think him dead by my hand than to know the truth.” Nicholas took the paper back from me. He neatly folded it and put it back into his jacket.
“Why now?” I pushed out a sob that seemed stuck in my throat.
“The world seems to be somewhat…ending. I thought you should know. Josh is probably a relative from somewhere down the Price family tree. He’s not a magical reincarnation of Langdon. Reincarnation doesn’t exist.”
“Leave me alone,” I whispered.
Nicholas went to say something else, but fortunately, stopped himself. He bowed. “As you wish.”
And he left.
Husband. One word had obliterated my ancient dream. He had asked me to marry him. The night that Nicholas had taken me. Had he known Jayne then? Thinking back, I had heard the name mentioned, but it was a popular name. My Langdon would never have hedged his bets like that. It was dishonorable. Although, in truth, he had never really been “my Langdon.” Had he asked me to marry him purely for my money? Had he loved me at all? Had I put his ghost on a pedestal when he deserved to be six feet under? If I’d have known back then, would I have slit his throat and watched him bleed out, him and his precious Jayne? Yes was the answer. I probably would have, and then I’d have spent several lifetimes riddled with guilt, or worse, transformed into one of the vampires that I had hunted, the ones without regard for any human life. Nicholas had borne that guilt and my hatred all those centuries. Damn him.
Josh asked me one more time who Langdon had been. I carefully looked into his eyes and smiled. “No one of importance,” I had replied.
He took that answer, but I was sure the question would be aired again. Maybe by then I would have a better explanation, one less embarrassing and girly.
Chapter Sixteen
We had agreed to meet Tate and his people at the Liverpool docks where Lyle would join us with a ferry to transport us all across to Ireland. We had already been heading north, so the change of plan was seemingly insignificant to our wards. I dared not tell them the reasoning behind the change. They would have lost all trust in me. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I trusted myself. Why hadn’t I even thought about Argyle and its battery farms? Was I so addicted to fantasy that I’d ignored the obvious on purpose, or was I really that dense? Right then, I decided to keep this information from Jack too, who so far had been an incredibly impressive newbie. He was fast, strong, and skillful—it was like he was born for it. I watched him fighting with Josh and Green as they taught him their army moves. He learned it all so quickly, and within only a few hours, he had surpassed their human abilities. I caught myself smiling at them.
We moved as
swiftly as we could. Main roads were sometimes blocked, so we had to veer off and travel down side streets and country roads. Each one we went down, we killed zombies and found the odd survivor. With each stop I said silent goodbyes to England as it sank deeper into the undead mire.
Josh wasn’t Langdon. I had to keep reminding myself of that when I looked at him, when he made me laugh, or when he touched my arm to stop my stares into the middle distance. Good. Langdon had turned out to be a man who had forgotten me. He’d left me to my vampire captor without even taking a step in my direction. When I thought of all the time I’d wasted mooning over his memory, thinking he’d died for me… Why had Nicholas not showed me his obituary sooner?
Life is problems—it takes a special kind of person to not only accept this but to then take each one on as a challenge, as a thing to be overcome rather than be buried by. Strangely, the zombies themselves seemed to be the least of my problems, until I heard a familiar laugh echo across the Liverpool city center.
We were less than a mile from the docks, where Tate and his people were waiting, where we were all to meet Lyle and his stolen ferry. Zombie stragglers were hanging about the shops, but where were the rest? Liverpool had over a million citizens, and so far, I had only counted five zombie heads as I had cleaved them off. Everything felt wrong. It was like having a sleeping coiled snake in your stomach suddenly spring to life. I knew Philippe was here. I just didn’t know where or worse, where he was hiding the inevitable zombie army he’d mustered along the way.
“What are you thinking?” Nicholas asked me as we walked together in front of our slow-moving, full Double-Decker bus.
“Mouse trap,” I mumbled.
“Yet still we move toward the cheese?”
“Cheese is all we have right now.”
“So your plan is to play into the zombie king’s scabby hands?”
“It’s part of the plan, just not the whole plan.”
We continued moving, but we kept it slow and steady. Right now, panic was a luxury, along with fear, doubt, and of course, blood. Not one of us had fed since we’d killed John. I’d heard the wards’ whispers and knew that to keep their trust, we needed to at least deliver them to safety before sinking a set of fangs into them. We’d managed no sleep for fear of Philippe catching up to us, and even the human food was dwindling. Tate had radioed to confirm that they were now at the docks and that Lyle was also already en-route. Everything was falling into place. I just wasn’t the only one with a plan.
“Why, what a wonderful present, Britannia, a tasty mobile buffet!” Philippe appeared between us and the road to the docks. He was alone.
“Oh, King of the Zombies,” I said with a bow.
Philippe snorted.
A honk from the bus caught our attention. Behind the bus, a horde of over three hundred Liverpool zombies suddenly stood like statues, staring at us all with a mixture of dead, glassy eyes and dark, empty sockets.
“My subjects are hungry,” Philippe said with a grin.
Both Nicholas and I leapt up and onto the roof of the bus. I leaned down to Josh and Jack, who were both standing by the bus door.
“Drive fast, and get to Tate. Get everyone on the ferry!” I yelled.
“What about you?” Jack asked. His hand darted out and caught hold of mine.
“I’m right behind you.” I tried to smile, but my fangs got caught on my top lip.
“We’ll get everyone out safe. How will we know Tate?” Josh asked.
“He’ll be the only other vampire on the docks.”
“Vampire, eh?”
Josh finally knew for sure, but he leaned forward and kissed me anyway. It was soft and chaste, and his fingers entwined in the long blue curls that framed my face.
Philippe waited with the patience of a villain who knew he had the better plan. Our lingering goodbyes would make his victory that much sweeter.
I pushed my hand through the bus window and ruffled Satan’s fur, then nodded at all my wards as their faces began to drain of color.
I jumped from the side of the bus to find Nicholas at my side.
“You’re a good fighter, but you can’t take both sides, now can you?”
“I forgive you, Nicholas.” It popped out before I’d even really thought the gesture through.
He stared at me for a moment. We were both wearing black skinny jeans and T-shirts. Mine was another vintage Sex Pistols tour shirt—my new favorite. His T-shirt was something he’d picked up along the way, a cheap tight white one that read, “For hire. Go on, girls, treat yourselves.” I hadn’t even noticed that before.
“Lady’s choice, front or back?”
I wanted to take Philippe, so I nodded in his direction.
The bus behind us revved, and we both jumped out of its way. I propelled myself forward and grabbed at Philippe who deftly avoided my awkward embrace. The bus then accelerated forward toward the docks. I spun round and kicked Philippe square in the chest. He staggered and shook his head with shock.
“You’re faster than I remembered. How would you feel about switching allegiances?”
“What and become Queen of the Zombies?” I flipped my hair out of my face and wished for a hair clip.
“We got on so well before, my darling.”
I dropped to the floor and swiped his legs from under him then flipped upright and stomped on his chest. His hands grabbed at my foot and caught me long enough to pull me over. We both rolled out of the way of the oncoming speeding bus. He continued his momentum until he was on top of me, pinning me to the asphalt beneath us that smelled faintly of petrol and blood.
He snapped his jaws at me. I caught his shoulders just in time to push him at arm’s length. His smelly breath and greenish saliva invaded my senses, making me gag. He laughed and tried to lean into me.
I encircled my legs around his waist and rolled to the side, taking him with me so he ended up beneath me. A wave of annoyance crashed over his jagged smile as he struggled against the grip my thighs had on him. He might be able to beat me with upper body strength, but I had him defeated hands down with the lower.
“Britannia!”
I looked up to see Nicholas being swamped by zombies.
“Oh my, two birds with one stone. You can let him die and then kill me. Have all those tasty humans for yourself,” Philippe cackled.
“Shit,” I said.
Not sure if I’d ever get another chance to kill Philippe again, I got up off him and sped toward the zombie horde. I slashed and cleaved a path to where Nicholas was fighting. He’d been bitten, but only once or twice.
I stood back to back with him and handed him one of my scythes. As our hands touched, he caressed my palm.
I kicked out at the nearest zombie and cut the head off its neighbor. Nicholas had killed at least a hundred, which left another two hundred slathering, wild creatures to bear down on us. Their previous docile appearance was now replaced by toothy snapping and sharp-nailed grabbing. They were so close that I had no room to move. We weren’t going to make it out without being torn apart. There were still just too many. My only hope became that we’d stall them long enough for Tate to take charge of our wards and get them safely across the sea to their symbiotic sanctuary.
“I need to tell you something,” said Nicholas.
“I really can’t take any more drama right now, Nicholas. Can it wait?”
“Sure.” I almost felt his eye roll.
Just then a zombie’s head exploded to my side, then another, and another. I had enough room, so I twirled and tumbled, taking out at least another ten in my line of sight. The bullets were coming from Josh and Green—it was their last ammo, but it had given me the room I needed.
A sudden memory of my first night in the land of the zombies flashed before my eyes. The zombies had stood at the banks of the Thames watching their meals thrash and sink. They hadn’t gone in after them.
“We need to get everyone into the water. Zombies can’t swim!” I yelled at Nicholas. He
nodded, and we started running toward the docks. We ran straight into Josh and Green. I threw Josh over my shoulder and Nicholas grabbed Green. We bowled forward toward the docks. As we got there, I could see the bus, now driven by Jack, had reached a pier. Another seventy people stood on it. In front of them was Tate, his beautifully smooth black skin illuminated by the lights of the dock. He waved at me then pointed to the distance to where a ferry was steaming toward us.
“Jump!” I yelled at them. Everyone looked stunned.
“Get in the water!” Nicholas shouted.
The zombies were now in sight. It was a mass of animal-like snarls and extended hungry fingers bearing down on us
Satan began to channel his inner collie and was now herding everyone toward the edge. Most of the humans started to dive into the water to swim out to meet Lyle’s ferry. Satan jumped in after them. Tate and Jack regarded each other for a moment. He’d smell like me. Hopefully, Tate would sense Jack was one of us, not some rogue sent in by the Elders.
We dropped Josh and Green over the sides of the docks—even though Josh yelled to stay and said something that I didn’t quite catch. I felt his hand slide down my arm as he tried to grip onto me.
“What’s the plan?” Tate yelled across the docks to us. The only humans left with him and Jack were Tracy and Henri, who’d just finishing helping the children into the sea.
“You need to swim out with them.” I waved over at the ferry. I could see the first people reaching it and being pulled aboard by Lyle.
“What about you?” Jack shouted back at me.
“He won’t stop hunting us.” I wasn’t sure what else I could say. It was the only truth I could push out.
Tate looked crestfallen, his dark, glassy eyes overshadowed with grief, but he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his eye line and saw Philippe standing in front of the zombies, a king who would lead his troops from the front.
The movement was sudden, and even I didn’t see him run past me. Philippe was aiming, not at me, but at Tate. Jack grabbed hold of Tate’s arm and yanked him out of the way of his creator. Philippe settled for grabbing the nearest human. Tracy! I ran as fast as I could, Nicholas behind me, but I was too late. The smell of blood hit me first, and I saw Philippe rip into her throat. I got there just as he let her body limply drop to the floor, the silver cross I’d given her disappearing into the gaping red wound of her neck.
Bad Blood (Battle of the Undead Book 1) Page 12