‘Is that why you and I?’
‘No. But you will bear my child and be grateful for being the one chosen to give birth to the next coming.’
‘Coming?’
What had he just said? His child was to be… tears filled his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. Of course. It made sense. He was God’s chosen and she was strongest among his disciples. Where else would God’s representative on Earth come from? But to be responsible for the next Coming?
He felt the weight on his shoulders but he also felt the excitement, a thrumming in his veins that made him shiver and sit up straight. ‘That’s right. Our son will be God’s will on Earth, made flesh.’
Her mouth dropped open, right before she slapped him. He wasn’t sure if it was foreplay, but the scowl convinced him it wasn’t. ‘That’s blasphemy.’
‘Why? Joseph and Mary were ordinary people. I’m chosen by God to save the Earth, it makes sense I should bring the child into being.’
‘But…’ She shook her head, mouth opening and closing. Jackson was about to reply when he saw one of the soldiers come back into the room. It was the one who’d looked at him funny, wiping the side of his mouth with a thumb and sauntering like someone who’d just got his end away.
Jackson rose, ignoring Harriet’s protests, and made his way towards the soldier. The man ignored him, beckoning to another of the ladies. She went willingly and Jackson’s mouth fell open. They needed variety, what was this about? He drew closer and was about to complain when he got a good look at the man. He was gorgeous.
The moment the thought went through his mind he knew he was cursed. But he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He felt Harriet’s presence at his side and put a hand out to keep her there.
‘Who is he?’
He scowled at Harriet. ‘Just one of the soldiers. Come to do his duty.’
‘He can do my duty.’
He grabbed her wrist and squeezed, hard enough to feel the bones shift. She whimpered and he put his lips up close to her ear. The others were watching now, though whether they were looking at him or the soldier, he couldn’t say. ‘You’re mine. No one else’s. Do you understand?’
She tried to pull away and he set off down the corridor, dragging her with him.
‘Let m—’
He squeezed harder and her words cut off as she gasped. He glanced back and was relieved to see every woman in the room staring at the soldier. More than one was half out of their chair but he turned away and led his new lady back down the corridor. He could have all of them, but not Harriet.
They reached her room and he shoved her through the door. She tripped and sprawled, landing face down on the bed with her legs on the floor. He pinned her down and started to haul her trousers off. She was begging for it and the soldier’s face faded as he drove into her.
Krystal
She turned away from the bike and went for her sword.
‘Get on mine, get on the back.’
Her hand fell from the hilt as Luke pulled up alongside her. The space on which she had to sit was tiny, but she swung her leg over and pressed up against him. She grabbed the metal bar behind her just as he charged away.
She was going to fall. She was going to tumble off and be eaten. She pushed with everything she had and regained her balance, then clamped an arm around his chest. They shot away from the zombies and down the ramp onto the A2. The weaving began, in and out the stationary traffic. The wind tore at her hair, throwing it this way and that, and she soon gave up trying to watch where they were going.
Being on the back of the bike was like being at sea, tossed around by waves beyond her control. Dad had taken her sailing once, ages ago, and the only strong memory she had of it was feeling like this, of being out of control and at someone else’s mercy. Despite everything that had happened in the last week, she hadn’t felt like this. Not until now.
She pressed her head into his back and held on. She managed it for about five seconds before her stomach churned and she had to lift her head. It felt faster and wilder when she had her eyes closed and now as she watched the cars going past, it felt horribly slow. She expected a zombie to attack at any moment, reaching out from a car or appearing from behind a truck.
But the river came into view without anyone trying to kill them, and her breathing and nausea eased a little. The lights were still on for the most part and London glimmered as Luke turned right and drove alongside the Thames. Krystal had always loved the water at night. The dirt vanished in the reflections of thousands of street lamps and she lost herself there now, peering down into the darkness.
‘We need to find you a bike.’
‘Now?’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m tired and hungry, we’ve just escaped a bunch of zombies, your shoulder’s knackered—’
‘Actually, it doesn’t feel too bad. I think the ride will make it ache tomorrow morning, but I can move it now without too much pain.’
‘Okay, that pain? That’s the signal for you to curl up in bed and not move. That’s how your body works.’
She could feel his grin even sat behind him, but he shook his head. ‘It’s a weak signal at best. Speaking of which, I got a text a few minutes ago, can you reach my phone?’
She slipped her hand into his jacket and pulled it out. She was taken back to her early days on the street, where a phone meant twenty quid and fifty if you knew the right person. And pinched the right phone. She’d stopped it pretty quick. The police would ignore you so long as you were ignorable. Stealing stuff made you very much… norable? Whatever it was, they didn’t bother with the cells for people like her, just a night stick across the head and a feel up if they were that sort.
‘You’ll have to stop, I’m not letting go.’
The bike cruised to a standstill, with the railing on the left and a hotel towering above them on the right. The road was crammed with cars and more than one had their drivers still in place.
‘Is this the best place to stop?’ She asked.
‘Just look at the text, would you?’
She sniffed and brought the phone around.
Where the hell are you? It’s all gone to shit here. Bay x
‘She put a kiss.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, Bayleigh. Apparently everything’s screwed up back home, but she still put a kiss.’
‘What do you mean, everything’s screwed up?’
She read the message and watched as his shoulders rose. ‘What does that mean?’ He asked.
‘Dunno. We should probably get back, though.’
‘Mmm. We still need another bike.’
‘Why? Aren’t we gonna take a truck or something to get out the city anyway?’
‘I want to take bikes as well. We’ll need smaller transport once we’re out in the country.’
She sighed and stuck her fingers up at the back of his head. He gunned the engine. ‘Hang on.’
She grabbed the bar just in time as he set off. They weaved, moving even more slowly now. ‘Can you hold your sword?’ Luke said.
‘What, now?’
‘No, next week, of course now.’
‘Ooh, easy, play nice. Why?’
‘Because we need to go slow and I don’t want to have to stop. You can fend them off.’
She took a deep breath, wrapped her left arm around his waist and drew her sword. Almost immediately a zombie appeared, lumbering down the pavement. Luke drew close and she fought back the urge to lean away. She did anyway, a little, and the bike wobbled.
‘Stay still. Just move your arm.’
‘Alright, alright.’
She swung and the bike wobbled again, but her sword bit deep into the zombie’s chest, knocking it away from them. The back of the bike didn’t stop wobbling.
‘Luke, bloody stop it would you.’
‘I’m trying, I’m trying.’
He sped up and the bike straightened. They spotted another zombie, this one alternating between the pavement and the
road. He was, or would have been, a hipster, with silly hair and tight jeans above a pair of converse. She gripped the sword, liking this more.
‘Try and hit it in the head this time.’
She growled and stuck her tongue out at him. She got her feet solid on the pegs and lifted slightly off the saddle as she put all her weight behind the swing. She caught the creature in the neck and the sword went straight through. His sticky-up hair was flattened as his head struck the concrete.
She looked behind to see the body still standing for a moment, blood spurting from the neck, before it crumpled to the floor.
‘We got him, we got him.’
Luke chuckled then slammed on the brakes. She thumped against him. ‘What the hell?’
‘There.’
She followed his finger to a bike lying on its side across the road. He weaved between the cars and pulled up beside it. She hopped off the back and stood, bent at the waist and sucking air until the shakes subsided. A zombie was heading their way and, as Luke jumped off his bike and moved to the new one, he waved at her to deal with it.
She had a second to reflect on the fact that in the space of a week, she’d gone from being a scared little homeless girl with a pocket knife, to standing on the edge of the Thames, samurai sword in hand, and trusted by Lucifer to kill a zombie. It was, all things considered, a serious improvement.
She attacked, smiling at the feel of the hilt against her palm. Her first strike went too low and cut through the creature’s jacket-clad left arm. The arm hit the floor spraying blood and she jumped back. It lurched on, somehow unaware of the wound, so she charged back in. She thrust point-first this time, stabbing the zombie through the bottom of the mouth and driving the blade up into its skull.
She grinned in satisfaction as she remembered to yank the blade out before the body fell. A throaty rumble from behind told her Luke had been successful. She turned and inspected it. It was a BMW and looked exciting, the silver bodywork gleaming under the street lamps.
‘It’s far more powerful than your last one. You’re going to need to be very cautious at first. And you’ll need that, too.’
They looked together at the zombie stumbling towards them with thick leather gloves and a motorcycle helmet on. It was like some weird coming of age thing, where she had to kill the beast to claim her prize. Or in this case, her helmet.
The sword struggled a little with the leather, but her first blow still shattered its knee. It collapsed and she lined up her next blow, getting it in the gap between the shoulders and head. Her aim was sweet and the head rolled free. Luke sucked air in through his teeth and shook his head.
‘Big mistake.’
‘Why, it’s dead?’
‘Yeah, but you have to get the head out of the helmet now.’
He popped his visor up and flashed her a grin, before returning to his own bike. She sighed and picked up the head. It was far heavier than she’d expected and she struggled to lift it the first time. She knelt instead and looked in the bottom. All she could see was blood and the trailing remains of the spine and arteries and whatever else she’d cut through.
She rolled the helmet the other way up and thumped it on the top. She lifted it like she was trying to get a cake from a tin, but the head stayed stuck. She lifted the visor and shuddered at what lay within. The man had worn a beard, but it had come out in patches and was caught inside the helmet. Lifting the visor dislodged all the hair, and she held her breath as flakes of skin and reddish-brown beard floated around her.
She flapped her hand to clear it all out, then pushed down on the forehead of the zombie, while tipping the helmet up a bit. The thing didn’t budge. She was going to have to cut it out and there was no way she was putting it on after.
Krystal stood and shook her head. ‘No way. Not gonna happen. We’ll get one from a shop, it’ll be fine.’
Luke shook his head emphatically. ‘Not a chance. That bike’s very powerful. You aren’t getting on it without a helmet.’
‘Well aren’t you the father figure now?’
He ignored her and drew his sword. ‘Hurry up.’
She sniffed but turned back to the helmet. She didn’t want to cut it out but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. She tipped the helmet over and, standing as far away as possible, dug her sword in and scooped out its brain. That she didn’t puke was testament either to her constitution, or the fact that the last few days had been utterly insane and this wasn’t at the top of the crazy list.
It came out in great chunks, red and grey mingling with something black she was sure was the source of the foul stench. A zombie had spotted the blood and came bumbling over. She kicked the helmet off to one side and went with it while the creature fell to its knees to scrape the brain into its mouth. Luke took its head off before she could lose her no puking record and she turned back to the helmet.
She pushed on the face through the visor hole until the bones cracked. She kept shoving, and the face imploded inwards until it looked like a prop from a horror movie. The smell got worse and she tried to hold her breath. She stuck her hand inside the empty skull and pulled out fragments of broken bone until the face was dumped on the floor.
With the integrity of the skull knackered, it was easy to break out the rest of it and soon the helmet was empty. She raised it aloft with a triumphant smile and pulled it over her head. It was too large, wobbling on her neck. And it stank.
‘We use this till we get back to hospital, then you’re finding me another.’ Krystal did her best to make it an order and he nodded slightly as he gestured to her bike. It was only once she was astride, the tips of her toes barely brushing the ground, that it occurred to her this could be very dangerous and stupid. She gunned the bike and grinned.
She let out the clutch and squeaked as the bike flew forward. She clung to the handle bars, keeping the throttle open as she headed straight for a car. She leant and scraped past it, her scabbard banging off the door. She bounced straight up the kerb and snatched at the handlebars as the railings drew horribly close.
She veered off just in time and straightened up, bombing down the pavement. She didn’t dare look behind to see whether Luke was keeping up. Her only focus was on changing gear without stalling or killing herself. They reached the Imax in no time at all and she pulled onto the bridge.
She broke out laughing at what lay before them. It was like something out of an alien invasion movie. Hundreds of long-haired men and women, clad in leather and denim, sat in a huge circle. It was the metallers they’d avoided on the way out, which in itself wasn’t too bad. They could avoid them just as easily. What was freakish was the person stood in the centre of the circle.
He was a zombie, his face coming apart and dribbling blood onto his t-shirt. His hands were held up before him as if to protect himself, but he didn’t have the co-ordination to manage it. One of the zombies lurched up from its sitting position, staggered towards the one in the centre and swung at it. Its clawed hand caught him in the side of the head and knocked him down.
A chorus of growls went up. They sounded like growls from a drunk bear, dribbling and falling from their mouths. The puncher sat back down and the circle was silent. Eventually the zombie in the centre rose to his feet, hands held above his head. This time, she realised, they weren’t there to protect it. They were raised in triumph. And the grunts from the others were shouts of approval.
She turned to Luke, raising her visor with a sigh of relief as the smell of the river battled the stench inside the helmet. ‘They’re playing a game.’
‘I’m sorry?’
She nodded. ‘They’re playing a game. The one in the middle has to see how long he can take the beatings for. I’ve seen it before. Only when I watched it, you might get everyone else’s change if you lasted long enough.’
They gave one another sickened glances and turned their bikes around. At the bottom of the bridge, where they had only just come on, another crowd of metallers stood, staring straight at them.
‘They aren’t playing a game.’ Luke said.
‘Nah, I don’t think so.’
With a roar of growls and gibbers, the zombies charged.
Alex
He turned to Bayleigh and shook his head. He didn’t know what else to do. The ladies were heading back up the steps into the ward, subdued now they’d sent a man out to his death. Bayleigh ignored him and stepped straight through the door as it hissed open. Alex went with her, acutely aware of the lack of weapon in his hand.
‘Bay, come on, come inside.’
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘No idea. But we can’t follow him.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
He gritted his teeth and looked at the sky. ‘Look, if he’s running, he might survive. If we were just running, we might as well. But if we’re trying to follow him, we’re screwed.’
She didn’t turn around, just stared down the street. The zombies were closing in and Alex took her arm. She shook it off, scowling at him. ‘We should have done something.’
‘Like what?’
She groaned and put her hands over her face. He tried to soften his voice. ‘Look, Bay, he survived the first night and we know he can fight now. At least we know that. Trust me, I saw him down here with the zombies. He’s… he’s pretty terrifying. I don’t think you need to worry about him. Really.’
Still no response. ‘Bay, please, they’re coming.’
Finally she shook her head and looked back at him. He gestured urgently to the zombies, now only metres away, and she nodded reluctantly. He took her arm and she shook her head, smiling. Then she was gone. He blinked and she was back through the door. By the time he dashed through after her, she was at the stairs.
The zombies came in after, at least one wearing boots that clicked across the floor. He took the stairs two at a time, puffing when he reached the top. Bayleigh was already halfway down the corridor to the ward. He glanced back. There were ten or so zombies staring at him, clutching at the air with their withered fingers, and he shuddered. She’d drawn them in here, staying out there that long. Not that she seemed bothered. When had she got so fast?
Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 15