They bypassed St Paul’s. They needed to go back there soon. They would need to recharge their remaining devices and he wanted to know what the soldiers of God were doing. Without their own devices, they were trapped in the cathedral, tied to the machine. But how long would that last? He had the feeling Az or Seph had ordered them to leave Luke’s group and the ladies alone, in an effort to keep him sweet, but they would be growing impatient.
There was so much he didn’t know. The future was empty of anything except running and zombies and doubt. He hated it, and the very fact that he could find hate within himself frightened him. Nothing was worth hating. Hate got in the way and confused things, but he couldn’t drive the panic from his mind when he thought about what lay ahead.
So he would go back to St Paul’s before they left. But first he would go to the hospital and sleep. Krystal too. Her bike weaved a little more than it needed to and he imagined she was almost dead on her feet. They reached the road that ran past the hospital and as the building came into view, lights streaming from the windows, they accelerated.
Perhaps if they hadn’t, they would have had time to slow or even stop, when Bayleigh appeared from the darkness. But they didn’t. Krystal reacted first and did what turned out to be the best thing. She twisted the handlebars and the bike went out from under her.
She hit the road and slid as the bike shot away, drawing sparks from the concrete. He didn’t see what happened next because he was already past. And that was when the trap closed. One moment the street was filled with zombies wandering aimlessly. The next they were bearing down on him, arms outstretched to drag him from his bike.
Bayleigh
She heard the bikes and sweat sprung up on her forehead despite the chill air. She had to warn them before they got too close. She dashed from hiding and swore as they appeared in the darkness, headlights like fireflies as they weaved back and forth around the cars. They were going so fast. How were they not hitting anything?
She ran towards them, skirting the trap and into the middle of the road. They saw her but were already too near. One of the bikes went down and slid towards her, throwing sparks into the air. The rider was left behind and swallowed by the darkness. The other bike kept going and drove straight into the trap.
Bayleigh screamed as the zombies closed in. The first, briefly illuminated by the headlamp, was crushed beneath the front wheel. Then hands dragged the rider off and the bike twisted and flipped through the air. She caught a flash of white and a police sign before the bike came thundering down.
Her eyes, though, were already on the rider. It had to be Luke, it was too big to be Krystal. He thrashed around within the circle of zombies but she was already moving, charging towards him. She glanced at the knife in her hand and almost stopped. But before she could, she was there.
The first zombie she reached got the knife in the back of the skull. It dug deep and she heaved. It was like pushing a knife through cooked meat. She yanked it free and leapt over the falling corpse.
The street lights gave just enough for her to see Luke, still with his helmet on, and now on his feet. He’d even drawn his sword, but there was no room to swing it. She gave her full attention to the next zombie. They hadn’t spotted her yet and this one she stabbed in the ear. She felt things crack as she drove it home and bile burnt the back of her throat.
Another one down and plenty more to go. The next realised she was there and turned, taking her blade straight through the eye. It was far easier, so long as she didn’t look at the ruined eyeball leaking over the blade. Warmth spread down her fingers as the juice from the eyeball spread onto them. She blocked it out, blocked out everything except the next zombie.
This one was ready, its hands outstretched and flailing. And blocking her blow. She hammered at its left arm, digging the blade into the soft flesh until something gave way and the arm dropped useless to its side. The zombie grabbed for her with the other arm but she leant to the side and stabbed it in the cheek.
The blow wasn’t clean and went nowhere near its brain. It twisted and the movement nearly yanked the blade from her hand. She clung on and the knife came free. She stabbed again. This time she didn’t have the power and it lodged momentarily in the creature’s skull. Its clawed hand slammed across the side of her head and she staggered.
Bayleigh’s feet caught on the corpse behind her and she fell, landing on something soft. On either side of her, wide-eyed corpses stared, the smell of rot like a shield around them. She couldn’t handle this. She kicked out and flailed with her hands, feeling as clumsy as a zombie as her instincts took over. But they were the wrong instincts. She couldn’t get out until the creature leaning over her was dead. Its weight landed on her legs. She wasn’t going to get out of here.
Something bright struck the zombie just above the ear and the next moment it was missing the top of its head. As loose brain matter trickled down its face, it toppled to one side. Krystal offered her a hand and Bayleigh scrambled to her feet.
‘You saved my life.’
‘Lots of that going round today. You alright?’
Bayleigh nodded and hefted her knife. ‘Is he still alive?’
Krystal didn’t answer. She was already wading through the circle of zombies. Only they no longer surrounded Luke. More and more of them were turning to fix their eyes on Krystal. Bayleigh frowned and stared at the girl. One of the zombies moved and for a second Krystal was lit by the street lights. Her left leg was covered in blood, her trouser leg completely torn away.
Bayleigh shook her head, the sweat that covered her going cold. She shivered and leapt forward, driving her knife into the foremost zombie’s face. Krystal shouted something and attacked, sword flashing in the night.
Luke joined with them, his own sword covered in blood. The three of them stood in a circle, shoulder to shoulder, and Bayleigh felt like an actor in a movie, the Three Musketeers or something. Then a claw got through and Krystal’s face started to bleed. Bayleigh slipped on something and her knee landed so hard she couldn’t put weight on it.
‘Time’s up. Come with me.’
Luke sounded so matter of fact she didn’t pause to wonder how he thought they were going anywhere. She grabbed his sleeve and he dragged her along. Claws grabbed at her but she ducked and twisted and they fell away. Krystal was right beside her, sword still flicking this way and that. She only took a few steps before she emerged from the crush. Of the zombies that had attacked from the trap, the vast majority were slain, lying in piles on the concrete. Beyond them, the street was peaceful.
They took another few steps before Bayleigh sunk to the ground, followed by Krystal. A number of zombies were still up, but they were digging greedily into the corpses of their pack mates. Bayleigh sat beneath the streetlights and watched a zombie chew the lips off another, then dig its fingers into the half-exposed mouth to pull out the tongue.
All she could think was how glad she was that Layla was properly dead and not out there, doing the same thing. She wouldn’t think about Ali at all. She couldn’t. Luke hauled her up and pointed at the hospital. With a grunt, she followed him and they staggered through the front doors.
The reception area was littered with dead zombies, but there was no sign of Ed or Alex among them. She was halfway up the stairs when Alex appeared at the top and she staggered, smacking one knee against a step. She heaved herself up and kept going.
He caught her at the top and wrapped his arm around her, helping her stagger down the corridor. She glanced back and saw, as they reached the top of the stairs, Luke scoop Krystal up in his arms and carry her down the corridor. She muttered something, batting at him with arms like a rag doll’s, but he ignored her.
They reached the field and stumbled into the private room. Ed waited with bowls of water and cloths and bandages ready. The most surprising thing was that water and cloths was all she needed. She slumped onto one of the beds and watched them examine Krystal. Her leg was a mess, the skin stripped from her slide along the concrete. That the s
lide had probably saved her life didn’t help Bayleigh feel any better.
It was her fault she’d fallen off. If she’d thought of something quicker and reacted better, she could have avoided it.
Alex and Ed set to work on her, clumsily cleaning the wound and binding it in bandage. She didn’t know any more than them whether that was the best thing to do, but at this point it was the only thing to do. She peered out of the window. The street looked peaceful. The pile of bodies was attracting more and more zombies, but the slurp and crack of their feasting didn’t reach up here.
Some were on all fours, mouths sunk deep into open stomachs or clamped around legs. But others were sat up, holding their chosen arm or foot like chicken legs as they gnawed the meat from the bone. In less than a week they had changed and moved on from the mindless animal behaviour. They weren’t human again, not yet, but they no longer moved like beasts. Where would they be in another week, another month?
She turned away from the window and took a deep breath. She should be exhausted, ready to sleep. But her eyes were wide open and refusing to close. She suddenly hated her new-found power. She longed to slip away and lose herself, let the night wash everything away. But she knew that when she did get to sleep it would be for a few hours at best.
Luke sat on the edge of her bed. ‘You saved our lives.’ He was looking at her differently. She wasn’t sure how, but it made her glow and squirm at the same time.
‘No I didn’t. I hurt Krystal really bad and you’d have got out of there without me.’
He shook his head, smiling wryly. ‘No, I don’t think so. It’s okay to save my life, really. Krystal’s already done it today as well. I’m getting quite used to it, if I’m honest.’
She blinked and tried to smile at him. ‘Why are you wearing a chef’s outfit?’
He glared. ‘Long story.’
A little while later they were sat across three beds. Ed was sullen, face hidden by his hair. Alex had told her he’d explain it when he got the chance. He was sitting beside Luke and looked taller than before she went out. He’d killed the zombies in reception, and the blood-soaked baseball bat in the corner was now his weapon of choice. That he had a weapon of choice made her sad, but she was also relieved he could defend himself. The less of them she had to worry about, the better.
Luke was tired and still suffering from his time in the river. He’d given them a rough outline of what happened during their ‘routine’ scouting trip. It was, he said, a good reminder that nothing was routine in the new world. He was also very pleased at what they’d found in the warehouse.
Krystal was asleep, snoring gently with her head tipped back to face the ceiling. Her leg was a mess but Alex was fairly confident it was nothing permanent. Luke assured them Krystal had earnt at least a week in bed.
The plan had changed a little. They were no longer heading to the country tomorrow. They would rest a few days while they found the right vehicle.
And they would search for Dave and Jackson. Bayleigh had tried to explain the Dave situation in full, with Alex chipping in when she forgot certain things, but Luke still couldn’t accept what had happened. She’d only just stopped him from storming into the ladies and giving them a mouthful of abuse.
Luke was confident he wasn’t dead. So he could be found. As for Jackson and the other ladies, Luke seemed less bothered about them. He said, with a wry smile on his face, that Jackson was probably doing all he could to keep them safe. They would look for him, but the priority now was to get those that were left out of the city.
But first, a rest. Bayleigh laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Sleep was a long time coming.
Thirteen Roses continues in Book Five: Home
There’s a storm over London.
Az and Seph are hard at work as the war in Heaven draws ever closer, but it’s not about them, not yet. As the rain batters the zombie-filled streets, the seven are fighting to keep it together.
Actually, Dave gave up ages ago, but at least he’s got something to do now. Because he’s a father, and his children need to feed.
Bayleigh and Krystal are searching for transport, but might just find something else.
Alex is determined to be something other than a total pussy. He might just manage it, too, but whether anyone cares is another thing altogether.
Luke still can’t make up his mind. He wants to care, but it hurts way too much, and every time he does, he thinks about Bayleigh. So right now, he’s focusing on getting the ladies out of the city.
And Jackson? Well, Jackson’s becoming the weapon of God. And maybe taking part in a little S&M on the way.
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The Spirit Room, (The Planets, book one) Superhero/Sci-Fi.
‘The Avengers meets Magician, The Assembly trilogy is superhero conflict on a global scale…’
An ancient cadre of magicians
A select team of extraordinary warriors
An unseen foe
As two ancient forces battle for control, reality as we know it is being torn apart. Caught somewhere in the middle, and tasked with ridding the world of the insidious alien intelligence are The Planets. Neptune hails from Rio, the gay daughter of strict catholic parents. Mars, from Ireland, still missing the sister he lost years ago. Uri grew up on the streets of New York, and Venus… well, no one knows and she isn’t telling. Imbued with extraordinary powers, these highly trained individuals take the fight across the globe. With startling and unnerving revelations at every turn, the depth of deception is only now becoming clear…’
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Chapter One: Mars
He was called Connor, before they named him Mars. He felt odd about the titles and wondered what was wrong with choosing your own. Apparently it was all about balance. Ten planets, ten agents, all with their own place, their own expertise. No prizes for guessing what his was. Of course, he could have ended up as Pluto, or Uranus, so he should be grateful.
His thoughts scattered as the wind buffeted him against the chopper’s open door. Below, the lights of London beckoned as the adrenaline began to pump. He grinned, nodding as the dulcet tones of Slayer blasted through the suit comms. The helicopter slowed as it flew out over the Thames, dropping lower until he could make out the people walking down Embankment.
He glanced back at the cockpit, where Luna gave him the thumbs up and a smile. He nodded, then turned back to the open door, facemask sliding up and sealing. The water waited, dark and choppy and he swallowed. It was a long way down; time to go. He cranked the volume until the music roared and grinned again, the vertigo fading as his anticipation of the night ahead grew. He unwrapped his hand from the strap and jumped.
Connor was confused and sick when they found him. Sick with fear of the world around him. Sick with the belief that something else was going on and he didn't know what it was. He didn't share it with anyone, or talk about it. He was too scared the doctors would look at him the way they looked at his sister Sarah when she'd shaved her head and begun talking about sub-programming of the reality
field. But he couldn’t deny what was happening.
He watched his mother grow old, again and again. He’d catch sight of her out the corner of his eye and her face would look like a crumpled, yellowing map, like she’d aged decades in seconds. He shared his wild brown hair with her and seeing it turn grey and fall out made his stomach turn.
It happened more than once, enough that he kept his slate-brown eyes closed around the people he loved. That’s why he had run away. That and Sarah. They’d called her mad when she ranted about ‘parallel events across alternate realities’ and they’d locked her up. He’d believed them. He didn’t now, of course. Sarah had been entirely sane, there just hadn't been anyone to tell her that before the pills and blank walls and knowledge made death the only option.
He'd been close to that when they found him, his strong features gaunt and lined. He was living in a squat, reality crumbling around him as he saw what people were going to do before they did it. When he was a teenager, he found he knew what a girl was going to say before he asked her out. It saved on the heartbreak, but he'd been lonely. As he grew older, so the power got stronger. By the time The Assembly appeared he could see a person’s entire life stretched flat like a sheet. Making friends with someone whose death you could predict was a difficult thing to do. As was falling in love.
Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 21