Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga

by Cairns, Michael

  Heaving a sigh of relief, he twisted it out of the wall and threw it at the zombies. His eyes watered and he had to blink furiously to clear them. Krystal was still coughing, a steady hacking that had her half-sitting on the steps, one hand pressed against the wall.

  The flames were licking down the stairs and the carpet was on fire. Sweat coated the back of his neck and he shifted his sword from one sweaty hand to another.

  ‘Come on, it’s now or never.’

  Krystal nodded and tried to rise. Another wave of coughing washed over her and she sat back down. He grabbed her shoulder and heaved her to her feet. She groaned but stuck her sword out in front of her. He wasn’t sure he would get much help in the fight ahead but as long as she kept up, he could manage.

  He leapt past her down the last few steps. He landed on the remains of the cot and the zombie trapped beneath grabbed his ankle. He hacked its wrist until it severed and hot blood spilled across his foot. The house was packed with zombies, and though they weren’t charging, they weren’t running away, either.

  Bayleigh had tried this and had similar results. He’d known that. But Bayleigh hadn’t had a sword. He strode into the lounge and lunged straight for the nearest zombie, severing a raised arm on the way to chopping its face in half. A cough signalled the arrival of Krystal as she appeared beside him. Her t-shirt still covered her mouth and her eyes were streaming with tears, but she attacked the next zombie with no less energy or effort.

  They cut their way through to the front door until they had their backs to it. The heat was horrendous, sweat dripping from his eyebrows and stinging his eyes. The fire was coming through the ceiling, smoke flooding the lounge and pieces of blackening plaster raining down. The zombies weren’t smart enough to dodge and some were knocked over by larger chunks of roof.

  In a momentary lull, Luke snatched the front door open and fell through into the dark, clean air. Krystal was right behind him, gasping and dropping to her knees on the front path. He hauled her up, ignoring the burning in his shoulder. The zombies were closing, and the leader he’d seen from the window came running around the corner of the house, making a sound like a sea lion barking.

  He thought about staying around to get rid of her, but they had only seconds before they were swamped. ‘Run, RUN.’ Krystal staggered in his wake and he hauled her past him and shoved her in the back. She stumbled but kept her feet and picked up her pace. Arms clutched at them as they fled the burning house but none were strong enough to hold them.

  The pack fell behind as they raced from the estate and up to the remains of the petrol station. The flames were gone from up here but smoke still trickled into the night sky, lit a dirty orange by the street lamps. He felt a wave of nostalgia. If he squinted it looked just a little like hell.

  They reached the bikes, sprawled like corpses on the tarmac. He hauled his up and put the stand down then did the same for hers. The keys were still in the ignition and he got his running while Krystal bent over hers, coughing like her throat was bleeding. There was a chance it was, but she’d recover.

  ‘Come on, come on.’

  She glared at him over the handlebars and turned the key. Nothing. She did it again but the bike was dead. He looked past her. The pack were closing, the woman zombie out in front waving her arms and screaming. They had seconds before she reached them.

  Bayleigh

  The main room was packed, every one of the ladies crammed in and perched on desks or chairs. A crowd was gathered around one who was wrapped in a blanket, face blotchy and red. Bayleigh stopped, heart sinking. She didn’t want to ask what had happened. In the event, she didn’t need to.

  ‘This is your fault.’

  She blinked, looking around for her accuser. One of the ladies stepped forward. She was crying as well, her pale blue eyes swimming and bright beneath the fluorescents. Her brown hair was tied up, showing the strong set of her jaw and a long, graceful neck. Bayleigh swallowed down the burst of jealousy and tried to remember her name. She thought it might be Jenna, but couldn’t be sure.

  ‘I’m sorry, what’s my fault?’

  ‘This.’ The woman pointed one perfectly-manicured finger at her distraught friend. How was she supposed to play this? She blinked again. She couldn’t believe she was thinking about it in those terms. So much had changed in the last week, so many terrible things had happened, and now she was trying to manage fifty people. She hadn’t done that since before she started the shop and even then, it had never been fifty.

  But she could do this. She thought she could even enjoy it. And she loved that it took her away from what was happening outside. In here, with the ladies, she could forget about the zombies. She walked straight across the room, smiled at the woman accusing her, and knelt beside the crying one.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘T-Tilda.’

  ‘What happened, Tilda?’

  ‘Dave. I thought… he’s really cute and we’re all going to die so I thought we could… you know…’ She looked at her hands where they twisted in her lap. Bayleigh took them and squeezed gently.

  ‘Yeah, don’t worry, it’s fine. I get it. We’re not going to die, though.’

  Tilda gave her a long look with her eyes wide open. ‘We aren’t?’

  There was so much doubt in her voice it almost wasn’t a question. ‘No, we aren’t. I have no intention of dying. We have an angel looking after us who very much intends for all of us to live. And besides, why would we die?’

  ‘Well, the devices are going to run out soon, aren’t they? And then the zombies will come in and eat us.’

  Her voice shook. The women were nodding at her words and Bayleigh nodded with them. She straightened, looking around the room and taking a deep breath. ‘We aren’t going to die. We’ll be out of the city long before the devices give out. Luke and Krystal are finding food today, a warehouse filled with food. We take it and get out into the country where there aren’t any people. There may be one or two zombies at most and we’ll kill them long before they get anywhere near us. We’ll be safe and sound. We can grow food so we can eat properly and we’ll be fine. I’m not promising the best life in the world, but we aren’t going to die.’

  Some of the ladies smiled back at her as she gave them her best reassuring look. It would have been difficult to lie, but she believed what she was saying and they could tell. Then Jenna came forward. ‘That’s great, but Dave isn’t coming.’

  She wanted a fight. She wanted to make everything better and didn’t understand that fighting Bayleigh wouldn’t do it. So Bayleigh turned away and knelt back beside Tilda.

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘He… he attacked me. He took his trousers off and I thought we were going to… then he just grabbed me around the throat and started strangling me.’

  ‘It isn’t good enough. We can’t trust him.’ Jenna interjected.

  Bayleigh waved a hand behind her to shut her up. Not that it was working.

  ‘Don’t wave at me. He nearly killed her.’

  ‘I know. But shouting at me won’t make it better and I don’t think Tilda needs you shouting at all right now, okay?’

  She could hear her voice rise and swallowed the anger. She needed to be an example. The ladies weren’t hostile towards her, not yet, but if she started shouting it could change very easily.

  ‘Tilda, when he was, you know, attacking you, did he say anything?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing. He didn’t even…’ She looked down again.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It sounds stupid.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. What was it?’

  ‘He didn’t even look human, like his face was all screwed up but it wasn’t human any more.’

  ‘He’s a demon!’ Jenna’s voice cut through the fragile atmosphere of the main room and Bayleigh winced. This wasn’t going well. Into the silence came the sound of the door opening, and Alex walked in. The ladies around Bayleigh stiffened and she groaned. The appearance of any ma
n right now wasn’t a good thing. She flashed her eyes at Alex, warning him off, but he came right on in and joined the fun.

  ‘I’ve got Dave in the other room. He isn’t going anywhere, don’t worry.’

  ‘He’s a demon.’ Jenna made sure everyone heard in case they missed it the first time.

  ‘Yeah, I heard that. I don’t think he is, but I think he’s possessed by one.’

  ‘Possessed?’ Bayleigh couldn’t stop herself. This was a self-confessed cynic of anything not proven by statistics talking about possession. Alex strolled across and knelt beside Tilda.

  ‘You okay?’

  She gave him a grateful smile and Bayleigh relaxed just a little. Score one point for the men. He stood again and turned around to Jenna. The pale-eyed lady had her arms folded and stood in the kind of posture a customer would take when they came to complain. She’d had all of three in the time the shop was open and every one had needed to vent, without having any real complaint.

  ‘Something’s wrong with him, he—’ Alex began.

  ‘Of course something’s wrong with him, he tried to kill Tilda.’

  ‘Yes, I know that. But it’s not in his nature.’

  ‘Not in his nature? He killed Sian.’

  There were gasps from the ladies and Bayleigh rubbed her head. That was it, then. There was no way this was ending well. She had to try though. ‘You have no proof of that. I don’t believe Dave would have done that.’

  ‘He just strangled Tilda. What more proof do you need?’

  In truth, she didn’t need any. She knew as well as they did that Dave killed her. She tried to imagine him pushing his fingers through her eyes and it was disturbingly easy. She shook her head.

  ‘Whatever he has or hasn’t done—’

  ‘You mean you know as well as I do he’s a murderer—’

  ‘We don’t know that—’

  She was shouted down by more people than just Jenna. Alex raised his hands and waited for the shouting to die down. It took a while and Bayleigh spent the time trying to figure out where it would end. She hadn’t by the time Alex spoke.

  ‘I understand your anger, really. But this isn’t just a normal attack. There’s something wrong with Dave. I want to say clinically wrong, but I don’t think that applies here. There’s something wrong with him and we need to help him.’

  ‘You can help him, but it won’t be here.’ Jenna stepped closer to Alex and wagged her finger at him. ‘We can’t let him stay here if he’s going to hurt people.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Bayleigh said. She already had a good idea what she meant, but wanted Jenna to come out and say it. Maybe then she’d realise the reality of what she was suggesting.

  ‘He needs to go.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Out.’ She thrust her quivering finger toward the window and Bayleigh followed the line of it, shaking her head. ‘That’s ridiculous. He’ll be killed before he’s gone fifty feet.’

  ‘If God thinks he’s worthy, he’ll save him.’ Jenna said, jaw quivering. ‘If he doesn’t then we’ve only hastened something already coming.’

  Bayleigh sneered. She didn’t mean to but Jenna sounded far too much like Jackson for her liking. Jenna saw it and pointed at her, looking around for support. ‘That’s what she thinks of us. She doesn’t care about our safety.’ She turned to the room, puffing her chest out. ‘I say we find Dave and escort him out of this hospital.’

  Bayleigh wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t the resounding cheer that filled the room. She met Alex’s eyes and received a helpless shrug in response. Jenna headed for the door and a large number of the ladies went with her. Soon Bayleigh and Alex were left with Tilda and a couple who had stayed with her.

  Tilda shook her head and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’. Bayleigh gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Jenna wasn’t to blame either. She was a customer with a chip on her shoulder and the circumstances to turn it into something far larger and with serious consequences.

  Bayleigh dashed from the room in time to see Jenna shove her way into another room. Moments later the ladies led a hapless and very much confused Dave out and down the corridor. He was pushed past Bayleigh and gave her a questioning look. She wanted to say sorry but she couldn’t take her eyes off his perfectly clean hands. Hands that were almost pink from scrubbing.

  Why hadn’t she thought before? She’d been so sure it was Jackson, she hadn’t even considered getting Dave to stay out of the way, somewhere he couldn’t hurt anyone. It was too late now.

  They followed the mob down to reception. The doors were open and a zombie was half in and half out, dawdling idly. Dave was shoved forwards and Bayleigh half expected the ladies to start chanting for blood. Something quite different happened instead.

  She didn’t see it, not exactly, but one minute Dave went stumbling into the reception area, and the next he stiffened, then threw himself at the zombie.

  The reception went deathly quiet, save the sound of Dave slamming his fists into the creature’s face. Within moments it was a mess of blood and bone, Dave sounding like he was punching wet mud. The blows slowed until they stopped completely.

  Dave looked back at them and Bayleigh gasped. It was like he was wearing a skin mask, a different face laid over his own. Then the mask slipped, fading away until it was just Dave, bemused and staring at his bloody fists.

  ‘See, can’t you see?’ She aimed it at Jenna but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

  ‘He’s possessed, drive him out.’

  She didn’t know which one said it. It didn’t matter. Now it was a witch hunt. The ladies surged forward and for a moment Bayleigh expected Dave to flip out and attack them. But instead he allowed himself to be driven back until the doors slid open and he stumbled out into the evening sunshine. The ladies backed away and the doors closed.

  Bayleigh urged him to come back in. They wouldn’t do it again, they couldn’t. Just come inside. They could find a room away from everyone else and keep him there until Luke returned and they worked out what was wrong. Just come back inside. Dave took one look at the doors before he turned and put his back to them. He glanced around the street. Bayleigh saw at least one zombie on its way towards him, but Dave didn’t wait. Without a backwards glance, he put his head down and ran.

  Dave

  He was broken. Had he thought that before? Perhaps he had. Not that it mattered. The only important time was now; memories were for other people, people who cared and worried. All he had to worry about was right now. Had he been someone who worried, he thought perhaps he’d be very concerned. But he wasn’t.

  There was a space in which to run, and plenty of spaces beyond that, so he went. He flew between the zombies like they were standing still and headed west, towards the centre of town.

  He was the wind.

  He wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it seemed right. It seemed real, like a remnant of a life that had, perhaps, been better than this one.

  His feet thudded against the concrete as his mind went in circles. They’d driven him from the hospital because there was something wrong with him. He’d known there was, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it. He’d killed that woman and tried to kill the other. He knew it because of the way Bayleigh looked at him just before he left. There had been no doubt on her face.

  Even at the end, she shouted something to try and stop them. But she hadn’t tried hard enough to make him believe he was innocent. Why couldn’t he remember doing it? Trying to kill someone was quite a drastic thing to do, surely he’d remember it. But then, he was broken.

  If he was broken, he could be fixed. Perhaps he should text Az and ask him about that. He hadn’t texted Az in a while, not since Luke and Krystal headed off to find the food. That was almost a full day ago. He knew a day had gone because the sun was slanting into his eyes, cutting between the buildings as he ran. Soon it would be gone entirely.

  He s
hould find somewhere safe. There was nowhere safe, not in the traditional sense of the word, but somewhere he could barricade and sleep. He was tired. His feet caught on something and he stumbled. He caught himself before he fell and kept going. He’d been here before. Running.

  He was the wind.

  His feet brought him from the no-man’s land of the city into the west end and he stopped below the huge yellow boards advertising the Lion King Musical. His chest heaved and the stitch in his side felt like one of the zombies had taken a bite out of him. He could hide in here. He could get into one of the boxes and barricade the doors, and no one would be able to creep up on him.

  He dashed up the steps, shouldering aside an usher dressed in black, hands clawing at him as he went. The foyer was empty save the two zombies sat in the ticket booths. They were trapped, their hands bloody from where they’d been bashing at the glass. They growled as he entered, their eyes fixed on him, but he ignored them as he read the signs.

  The classy gold fixings were out of place alongside the zombie ticket-sellers. He followed the arrows towards the boxes and was halfway down the darkened corridor when he stopped. A monkey, or rather, a zombie dressed as a monkey, stepped into the hallway.

  It wore a huge head dress and carried a staff, clutched clumsily in one hand. The moment it saw him it lurched forwards, stage paint cracking off its face. There was something about the patches of rotting skin showing through the blacks and browns of the paint, that made Dave hesitate. It was like it was trying to hide its zombieness. He thought that maybe he knew about hiding things.

  That was all it took for the monkey to reach him.

  The staff fell as its hands reached for his throat. He staggered back and landed on his arse. The creature landed atop him and its teeth opened wide. Dave giggled. He was being attacked by a monkey in a theatre in London. Something slipped in his mind. It was like walking on ice. There was always that moment when your balance goes and you try to stay upright, knowing it’s pointless. Memories came sneaking in, flashes of women he’d known.