Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga

by Cairns, Michael

  He raced off down the side corridor and in through the door of the ward, slamming it behind him. They wouldn’t have seen where he went. How good was their sense of smell? He wasn’t sure they went for anything except blood. It didn’t matter, the devices would keep them safe. He charged into the private room and slumped on the bed.

  Ed was sat in the next one along, staring at him with wide eyes, book face down beside him. ‘What happened?’

  Alex shook his head, getting his breath back whilst deciding how he was going to tell Ed. Bayleigh came sauntering into the silence and sat across from them.

  ‘What happened to you?’ Alex asked.

  ‘I got fast.’

  ‘Just a bit.’

  ‘It’s the spell. I can’t do anything else.’ She screwed up her face like she’d been expecting to turn lead into gold. ‘But I’m fast, really fast, and it doesn’t tire me out.’

  Ed’s mouth was wide open and he shook his head. ‘Show me.’

  Bayleigh raised an eyebrow and Alex held his breath. She moved and he tried to watch her. He saw her blur as she went near Ed but then he lost her. When the blurring stopped, she was back in her place with Ed’s book in her hand.

  ‘Oh my god, that’s amazing.’ Ed beamed. ‘You’re like a superhero.’

  ‘I’m really not. If I was, Dave wouldn’t be out there.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Bayleigh met Alex’s gaze and gave him a beseeching look. He sighed and rubbed his head. ‘We think Dave might have hurt one of the ladies—’

  ‘He did the murder, didn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know. Yeah, I think maybe he did. But we don’t have any proof.’

  ‘So why’s he outside?’

  ‘The ladies drove him out.’

  ‘The ladies? Why didn’t you stop them?’

  Alex tried to keep his voice calm. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, there are rather more of them than us.’

  ‘But you’re in charge, aren’t you?’

  Alex tipped his head back, rubbing his neck as he stared at ceiling. ‘I don’t think anyone’s in charge, except maybe that demon and the angel back in St Paul’s. Everyone wants to think they’re in charge, but they aren’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ed’s face dropped and Alex stared at him. He’d chatted to him once or two in the last few days, but not enough, probably. He seemed to be taking everything in his stride, but Alex didn’t really have a clue.

  ‘I don’t think we need to worry.’ He said. ‘They were just panicking because someone got hurt. I understand it really.’

  ‘Yeah, it makes sense.’ Bayleigh said. ‘They just needed to deal with it in a more reasonable way.’

  ‘So where’s Dave now?’

  Bayleigh stomped to the window and peered out. ‘He’s out there.’ Alex said. ‘And he can run and fight.’ The words sounded weak even to him. ‘Bay, I think we need to text Luke.’

  ‘And say what?’

  ‘Just explain things are a bit messed up and find out what time he thinks he’s going to be back.’

  ‘Shouldn’t they have been back by now?’ Ed said.

  Alex squirmed at both the question and the way Ed emphasised the ‘they’. ‘Yeah, they should. I’m sure they’re fine—’

  ‘You don’t have to protect me you know. I’m perfectly aware of what’s going on. Stop acting like I’m not gonna get it when you lie.’

  ‘I wasn’t lying. But look, Ed, you’re what, twelve?’

  He nodded, lips pressed tight together.

  ‘No offence, but do you really get what’s going on?’ Alex asked.

  ‘There are a bunch of zombies outside who want to eat us. There are a bunch of ‘adults’ - he put quotation marks around the word in a way that made Alex grin - ‘who are arguing over who gets to have sex with who and when. Everyone’s acting all noble, or mad, because everything’s screwed and they’re trying to pretend they aren’t. Yeah, I get it.’

  Bayleigh turned from the window with a grin on her face. ‘Well said.’ She pulled her phone out and started texting.

  Alex gave Ed a weak grin. ‘Sorry, I didn’t get much when I was twelve except spaceships and planes.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you didn’t have a zombie apocalypse or abusive parents to deal with, did you?’

  ‘Which is worse?’

  ‘Parents, every time. They…’ He choked off, staring past Alex at the door. ‘They weren’t what parents are supposed to be. At least the zombies are doing what they’re supposed to.’

  Alex smiled but it felt wrong. Bayleigh slid her phone back into her pocket and faced them. ‘Only they aren’t.’

  ‘What?’

  She beckoned them over to the window and they joined her staring out at the dark city. There were more buildings without lights now. For the first couple of nights you wouldn’t have noticed the difference, but as the circuits broke and power stopped working, there were more and more blackouts. The City in particular had big areas of darkness.

  Bayleigh pointed at the street. There were zombies down there, same as usual. But as he watched, he noticed a pattern. The same zombies were making the same short journeys, back and forth from pavement to pavement. He counted twenty one of them, all going round and round in circles. There were another two stood to one side, not moving at all, but clearly watching the others.

  They were thinking. Those two weren’t trying to be covert, but just by their inactivity they made it clear they were doing something deliberate. He shivered, sweat trickling down his back. Another zombie was stumbling up the road weaving side to side, oblivious to anything but the obvious difficulty it had in putting one foot in front of the other.

  Alex saw it just before it happened. The twenty were a web and as the zombie wandered into it, the trap closed. They fell on the creature and tore him apart, all of them leaving their preassigned paths to take part. The two watchers wobbled away from their posts and into the centre of the group.

  What happened next was the creepiest thing he’d seen yet. The carnage made his stomach churn, but it was no different to what they’d seen over and over again in the last seven days. But as the watchers made their way in, the others moved aside, inviting them in. The body of the victim, arms and legs already gone, lay on the floor and the watchers fell on it, tearing huge chunks out with their teeth.

  Once they’d eaten a little, they stepped back and their followers set to. They were in packs. Alex had already seen that. But now they were thinking and planning and leading. And following.

  Ed turned from the window, face pale. ‘They planned that. The zombie didn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Anyone who goes through that bit of street doesn’t stand a chance.’ As the words left his mouth he looked back at the street. That was the way Luke and Krystal would arrive back. Were the zombies practicing? He shook his head. There was no way the zombies had seen them leave this morning and put this in place. No way at all. They were just hungry.

  ‘We have to be careful not to overestimate them. This is hunting behaviour, it doesn’t mean they’re smart.’

  ‘But surely we should be prepared and stuff?’ Ed replied.

  ‘Yeah, of course. Just don’t expect them to start acting rationally or in a logical fashion. They’re still zombies.’

  Ed climbed onto his bed and shook his head. ‘Only they aren’t, not real zombies. They think too much.’

  Alex couldn’t disagree, so he didn’t. He leant back on the bed and looked at the cover of Ed’s book. Stephen King. Kid had taste. Bayleigh flumped onto the bed beside him and snuggled into the crook of his arm. It was altogether too close and too sudden for him to be ready. He stiffened, his breath catching in his throat.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, just. Sorry, not expecting that.’

  ‘Oh sorry, I’ll just—’

  ‘No it’s fine, really, I—’

  But she’d already moved, sliding over onto Ed’s bed and sitting up against the pillows. He didn�
��t want to look and see the hurt expression he was sure was there, so he examined his finger nails instead. Then he remembered what they’d seen at the window.

  ‘Any reply from Luke?’

  She checked the phone and shook her head. ‘But if they’re traveling back he won’t be able to check it. I wouldn’t worry.’

  ‘I’m not, I just… the thing in the street outside. They’ll be coming straight through that.’

  Bayleigh went white and leapt up, racing to the window. ‘They’re still there.’

  ‘And they will be when Luke and Krystal get here.’

  She turned to him, putting her hands over her mouth. She pulled her phone back out of her pocket, pressed a few buttons and held it up to her ear. She began to pace up and down and he leant back against the pillows. After what felt like an age she took the phone away from her ear and stared at it.

  She put it back again and kept pacing. She took it away, hammered at the screen for a few seconds, and then put it back again. Still no answer. With a loud out-breath, she shoved the phone in her pocket and shook her head.

  Ed sat forward. ‘What can we do?’

  Alex slid off the side of the bed and joined Bayleigh at the window. ‘I think if we kill those two, the others will leave, or at least, stop being so organised.’

  ‘So how do we do that?’

  Alex turned to Bayleigh. ‘How fast can you go exactly?’

  Dave

  He stared at the finger being brandished at him. Zombies were, as far as his relatively limited knowledge went, without discrimination or specific interest beyond the search for brains. These zombies weren’t limited to only brains, but beyond that, they seemed pretty standard. Now, though, there was one pointing at him and the five stomping his way were very clearly taking their orders from the dead dude in the tube uniform.

  He leapt back into the foyer and slammed the door closed. Unfortunately, they were the type that opened both ways. He backed away towards the windows where the two ticket sellers still banged at the glass in their feeble attempts to escape.

  He was exposed and open to attack from all sides. This was not a good situation in which to find oneself. He would stand more of a chance in the street. He could run in the street. He dashed back through the door, appearing right in front of the nearest zombie.

  The mist came down and something surged within him. It felt like heartburn before he realised it was excitement. He reached for the zombie with both hands and found its claws. His hands closed over them and he squeezed. The fingers collapsed beneath his grasp and three snapped clean off.

  The zombie reeled back, yanking its ruined hands away, but he went with it and caught its wrists. It growled, but it sounded more like a cat than a lion. Its struggles weren’t enough to keep him from twisting the wrists hard and yanking them towards him. The skin split with a lurch and blood fountained towards Dave as he stood with the zombie’s claws held in his hands.

  The creature continued its pathetic mewling, but it charged anyway, flailing at him with its stumps. He beckoned it on, stepping between its arms so their faces were only inches apart. Its mouth opened and it lunged. He slammed his forehead into its chin. The impact rocked him but the chin shattered beneath his blow and the zombie staggered back.

  Dave took a step back to survey the damage. He saw the blood streaming from the wrecked chin. He also saw the other zombies closing from all sides. He’d got himself trapped. Some part of him realised this, but his lust for violence didn’t care, or didn’t want to know. Either way, he ignored the approaching zombies and launched himself at the one he’d attacked.

  He wrapped both hands around its neck and hauled it forwards. The zombie stumbled and fell, its stumps hitting the ground. Dave straightened his back, tightened his arms, and the weight of the falling zombie tore its head off. He lifted it and smiled at the now-blank eyes and the streams of lumpy blood dribbling from the neck.

  He rolled it in his hands, grabbed the ears and spun around. The nearest zombie took its friend’s head in the face. Dave swung again and again, slamming his new weapon into the zombie’s nose and eyes. There were the predictable cracks and snapping sounds and Dave hit it harder. On the next swing, one of the ears tore off and he lost his hold. The head flew away and the zombie he’d been attacking came struggling on, face a mask of blood and hair.

  Dave stepped around the swinging arms and shoved it hard in the back. The zombie dropped face first to the floor and Dave drove the heel of his boot into the thing’s head. He remained with one foot planted in a mess of blood, brain and bone while he readied himself for the next attack.

  But it came just a little too fast. There were two of them and they came from either side. He dodged one’s hands, but the other grabbed his head and shoulder and its claws dug into the skin of his scalp. He ignored his attacker and went for the other one, grabbing the arms that had come past him and slamming them down onto his outstretched knee. They snapped off at the elbow and he kept hold of them.

  The de-armed zombie staggered away and Dave turned his attention to the one trying to tear his head off. In the second he had left he jammed the bloody end of one of the stumps into its open mouth. The zombie’s eyes rolled up like it’d just been given ice cream and its hands fell away. Dave stepped back, gasping for breath.

  The part of him that was still screaming sat inside his head throughout the whole thing. He watched the fight unfold like a movie. Something was doing this, something that wasn’t him. He couldn’t fight like this. Faced with five zombies he’d run and run some more. But whatever was controlling his arms and legs was enjoying this, revelling in the destruction.

  So was he.

  He didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t think he could feel anything. But the churning he’d named excitement had risen a notch. Now it filled him, a throbbing, overwhelming feeling that swamped his normal thoughts. All he could focus on was the zombie with stumps where its arms should be. It was coming back at him and he wanted it to come.

  He slammed his foot into its belly. Something split and a smell, far worse that normal zombie smell, assailed his nose. He winced and drove the same foot into its knee cap. The joint shattered, the zombie took one more step, and collapsed to the floor. With a huge grin, Dave drove the heel of his boot into the creature’s temple and felt a click of satisfaction as it struck the pavement beneath.

  The zombie to whom he’d given the snack was crouched on the floor, gnawing its way through the arm. Dave nipped back inside the theatre and grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall. As he came back out he saw another seven zombies closing in. They saw him and paused, hesitating as he reached the corpses.

  Were they scared? He didn’t believe that. But they’d just seen him kill three of them in fewer minutes. Were they cautious? The thought made him worry anew. Where were all these feelings coming from? He didn’t worry, because he knew it was a waste of time. He merely allowed his future plans to be affected by the potential before him. But now he was worried, and perhaps he was right to be so.

  They were displaying signs of awareness. Only basic, primal awareness, like animals who shy from the water hole when the alligators are there. But it was a step forwards in their evolution and within only a week or so of their birth. He wanted to shout at himself to run and get out of there, but it would make no difference. His body was in sway to something, or someone, else and he could shout all he wanted.

  He hefted the extinguisher, holding it out for the approaching zombies to see. One was still brave enough to sneak in and steal the other arm. To its credit, it also snagged a hand on the way back. The original feasting zombie seemed oblivious to it all, still working its way through the arm.

  Dave went behind it, sized up the shot, and took a swing. The head tore from the neck and went flying, hitting one of the waiting zombies on the way. It was enough to break the deadlock. The zombies surged forwards and Dave reached into himself. There was someone there. He could feel an alien presence, so he snarle
d and beat at it and suddenly, it was gone.

  He almost fell as he retook control, his limbs suddenly heavy and sluggish. After his grace of moments ago, he groaned at his newfound clumsiness. But he could still run. Dave threw the extinguisher at the incoming zombies and raced away. A glance back revealed the zombies falling face first into their dinner.

  Dave stumbled and picked up the pace. He’d almost stopped and he was still surrounded by zombies. This part of London was heaving with them, tourists carrying tattered maps in their hands, or pulling wheelie suitcases.

  He ran through the bottom of Soho towards Piccadilly Circus and reached the street with the camping shop on. The doors were closed and the lights were off. He shoved on the door and swore. A sign hung in the windows, explaining that for no good reason they were closed on a Thursday. The plague happened on a Thursday. Was it Thursday today as well? It seemed like it might be, and wouldn’t that be poetic in a horrible, sick sort of a way?

  He had to keep moving. There were two bins at the edge of the pavement. He raced over to them and grabbed the first around the rim. He twisted and heaved and eventually unclipped it from its base. It felt heavy enough as he staggered back to the shop. The street was wide enough to give him a few moments before the zombies reached him.

  With a roar as his shoulders screamed, he hurled the bin at the shop window. It bounced off and came right back, bumping into his foot. He looked down at it, swore, and set off running. Claws grabbed his shirt as he went.

  He did a lap of the block, drawing them after him. When he returned to the bin he was alone for long enough to scoop it up again. Another throw and this time the window made ominous creaking and cracking sounds. He picked the bin up by the rim and kept hold while he swung the other end at the window.

  The glass cracked like a spider web, but it stayed in place. He swung again, feeling the burn in his shoulders. It cracked further and on the next swing, the bin went through and lodged in the glass. He could have screamed. It would be a pointless thing to do, but the glass was ridiculously reinforced, as though someone had known he would do this and done everything they could to frustrate him. He ended up smashing it in chunk by chunk. By the time the hole was large enough to climb through, the zombies were closing.