Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning

by Strange, J. S.

  Winter saw he was old. At least in his sixties, he was wearing a suit of a rich design and his hair was balding. His stomach protruded beneath his suit, and a line of sweat sat on his blemished forehead.

  The girl on the street corner seemed to be sizing him up. As the man began walking around the car, the girl spat something to the ground and ran a hand over her hair.

  Then, everything happened suddenly.

  The man began to hunch over. The girl stepped away from him, her mouth hanging open slightly. He threw up, all over the car bonnet, and even in the dark night Winter saw it was blood. The man fell to the floor, his skin beginning to decay, his body beginning to die.

  Winter didn’t think about what she did next.

  She hurried forwards, brandishing the table leg. The girl seemed stunned, but not fearful. She watched Winter approach with interest, as if this was normal.

  The man laid still for a few seconds before screeching loudly, his eyes sunken in, the transformation from human to beast over.

  Before he could get up, Winter lifted the table leg and battered the man over the head, once, twice, three times, the accompanying whack of metal on bone seeming to satisfy her. She stopped until the man moved no more.

  “What the fuck?” The girl whispered. Connor hurried forwards and dragged the body with some difficulty underneath the expensive car.

  Winter stepped away from the man, unable to believe what she had just done. Connor moved from behind the car and came forwards, looking at the bloody puddle on the floor.

  Winter held out a hand to the girl. It shook slightly.

  “I’m Winter Smith, nice to meet you.”

  The girl stared at Winter for a few seconds, before grinning and taking her hand.

  “Violet Black. What the hell happened there?”

  “I’m not even sure myself.”

  “Come on,” Connor said. “We need to get in somewhere.”

  Connor led them to the diner. It was tucked away in the street, and blended in with the grimy stonewalls around it. It had the feel of a retro, American diner, but it had lost its appeal. The paint outside the shop had peeled, revealing wooden splintered panelling. The windows were dark with damp, and the neon sign that burned ‘open’ barely dented the dark night. As Winter watched, it flickered slightly as if it was giving up its fight. Before they went into the shop, Connor turned to Violet.

  “I’m Connor Getty.” He extended his hand.

  Violet just nodded. She pushed open the door and walked into the diner first.

  Red leather sofas sat around the corners of the shop, all of them battered and broken. The chequered black and white flooring was stained with various drinks and food that had been spilt and dropped over time.

  The girl at the counter seemed a little surprised to see people coming in. Behind her was a dusty old mirror and stacks upon stacks of different alcohol. The girl gathered her notepad and pen, stepped out from behind the counter and approached the odd looking group that had just walked in. She showed them to a table, and Winter sat somewhere where she could see the window. She wanted to make sure that she was the first to know if these creatures came this way.

  The waitress, a young girl, wearing a baby blue apron took their orders – two diet cokes, a coffee for Connor and a burger – and left, but not before she eyed the bloody table leg Winter was holding.

  “So, what the hell happened?” Violet asked as the waitress went through a door into the back kitchen. “I don’t mean just now. Why are you covered in blood and cuts? And what’s that weapon for?”

  Winter looked at Connor and saw he didn’t know how to explain it any better than she did. So Winter took a breath and explained everything; the recent reports in the media, to rumours of an attack, to the trouble at her parent’s house and the town she lived in, and the man outside.

  “So people have risen from the dead?” Violet asked, a little sceptical.

  Winter felt herself blush.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But at my house, people were bitten and left for dead, and then I watched them die, as if it was all sped up, and then they just sat up and began attacking people like me.”

  “Cool.” Violet nodded.

  “Not cool,” Connor scolded. “People were murdered back there by those monsters. There were too many of them. We hardly stood a chance.”

  “And there’s going to be more,” Winter said. “The zombie apocalypse is happening in London.”

  Violet scoffed. Winter and Connor looked at her.

  “Sorry,” Violet said. She didn’t sound sorry. “It’s just, well, come on, it’s all so surreal. Don’t you think all those stories of the zombie like attacks were just bullshit? Just something spread by people because they were bored? I mean, zombies don’t exist, do they?”

  “How do you explain that attack in China?” Connor asked. “A whole street wiped out.”

  “Did their bodies come back to life?” Violet challenged.

  Winter didn’t know. Maybe the report she read only gave half of the story.

  “If you had seen what we had just seen, you wouldn’t be so sceptical,” Winter said. “They were dead…they weren’t human. You saw that man out there!”

  Violet nodded slowly. “So what happened?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you?”

  “Yeah, but what happened to the people who were…dead?”

  “I don’t know,” Winter said slowly. “They just…showed up. I don’t know where they came from. They showed up, they bit people, those bitten people became them.”

  “Like an infection,” Connor said.

  “A really fast infection.” Winter nodded.

  “And do you think these people rose from the ground?” Violet grinned.

  “It’s possible,” Connor said, before Winter could answer. “They were monsters, set on killing. They had nothing else about them. They were just there to kill and multiply their population.”

  The waitress approached with their drinks before leaving again for the back room.

  Violet yawned and Winter glanced at her. She was short and thin and on closer inspection Winter saw she was quite pretty. Violet had a certain charm about her that was kind of sexy. She wouldn’t be Winter’s type but there was no denying this girl was hot. Her cheekbones were defined and her paper white skin was flawless. Her eyes were brown and sparkled mischievously.

  “I’m going to ask the waitress if she knows of any places to stay, and if we can contact anyone,” Connor said. “I won’t be long.”

  Connor stood up and left for the back room. Winter watched him leave.

  “Is that your boyfriend?” Violet grinned.

  Winter shook her head. “This was supposed to be our first date.”

  “What a date to remember!” Violet laughed. Just as suddenly, her expression was serious. “You look pretty shaken up with whatever has just happened.”

  “You would be, too.”

  Winter looked through the filthy and blemished windows. Her arm rested on the table. She could feel grains of salt, sugar and pepper sticking to her skin. She turned to look for Connor, her eyes resting on the bar made out of plastic metal that obscured her reflection. There was only one sign of somebody else being here before them: a row of empty beer bottles sat on the counter.

  “So you’re a party girl?” Violet asked, remembering what Winter had said earlier.

  “No, I can’t stand them.”

  “Well, where’s the fun in that?” Violet laughed.

  “Where’s the fun in prostitution?”

  Violet stopped laughing and looked into Winter’s eyes. She seemed to be deciding if she could respect Winter after that comment, or if she needed to be offended.

  “We’ll get to that in a minute,” Violet said, smiling slightly. Winter was relieved to see the smile. “That man back in that street…”

  “He was infected, if you can call it that. I could tell by what was happening.” Winter nodded.

  “How did
you escape your house?”

  “I’m not even sure myself. I just ran.”

  Violet nodded. “This zombie invasion people are banging on about…I just thought it was bullshit. But I guess they’re actually here?”

  “I thought there was something odd about that attack in Miami. And the killing in China.”

  “Do you think they’ll ever be stopped?”

  “Who’s going to be able to?”

  “Zombies are pretty ruthless,” Violet said. “From what I’ve seen in films and things. I think we’re basically screwed. The earth is doomed.”

  Winter shrugged again. “Maybe so, but we can always find a place to stay where the zombies can’t find us.”

  “Where would that be?”

  “Zombies can’t swim in the films I’ve seen.”

  “They’re also afraid of fire.” Violet laughed.

  “Sorted.”

  “What an easy zombie invasion escape plan,” Violet said, a grin spreading across her face. “We just need to find an island full of fire.”

  The girls smiled, but the silence of the conversation between two people who didn’t know each other crept upon them. Winter took a sip of her coke.

  She realised Connor had been a long time. She wanted to talk to him, too. What a disaster their first date had been.

  “You’re not what I thought you’d be,” Violet said, abruptly.

  Winter cocked her head. A smile played over her lips when Violet smiled wickedly at her.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I know who you are because I’ve seen you on TV and in a few magazines.” Violet kept the smile on her face but Winter was sure she heard a little bit of jealousy and resentment there. “Your family are rich as fuck, right?”

  Winter laughed. “My mum and dad are.” Or were, she suddenly thought. Her heart constricted.

  “Which makes you rich. You live on that private lane, don’t you? Surprising those zombies can get through all of that security. All it takes is one blunder, I suppose. So, what’s it like? Mingling with the stars and attending all these events and having rich friends and rich clothes and being rich?”

  Violet eyed the blood-splattered dress that Winter was wearing.

  “Horrible. I hate my life.”

  “I’d rather be rich than poor.” Violet muttered.

  “You’re poor?” Winter asked, trying to sound like she wasn’t being rude.

  Violet nodded. “My dad left me, my brother and my mum. She was pregnant with my youngest brother at the time. She’s got cancer now and she’s basically living the rest of her life in a chair, too weak to move. My brothers are too young to work and the pay around my town is crap, and no one will hire me in the city. So I became a prostitute. It’s not the ideal job I wanted, especially at seventeen, but if it helps me and my family then that is all that matters. I’m sorry, but it’s people like your family I hate.”

  “But how do you get away with the prostitution at seventeen?” Winter asked. “I think a lot of people hate my family. They don’t give their money to charity, despite going to charity events. I’m sorry to hear about your mum. And I’m sorry that you have to do what you do.”

  “Nobody checks your age in the prostitution world.” Violet shrugged. “It’s fine. The sex is good and the pay is even better. Although sometimes the night is dead except for a few fat men. Then you have no excuse but to go with them.”

  “Who were you waiting for tonight?”

  “Another client. A regular. Pretty hot. Got a wife and two kids though and another one on the way. I don’t agree with it but I need the money.”

  “The man out there?” Winter asked, failing to hide her disgust.

  “That’s the one.”

  Winter nodded and took a sip of her coke, which was pretty flat. Her head swivelled to see if Connor was coming back.

  Winter turned back to Violet. She was staring at Winter intently.

  “What?” Winter asked slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

  Violet looked around her to make sure no one was looking before taking out a silver pistol gun. “I could have taken that dick head back there if I had been given the chance.”

  “Why have you got a gun?” Winter stared at the silver pistol, not sure if what she saw was real. She had never seen a gun before. Thoughts of what Violet could be part of whirled around in her mind. She had heard about girl gangs in dark parts of London.

  “Sometimes the clients get a little carried away.” Violet laughed darkly. “I’ve never had to use it. Not much, anyway.”

  A huge bang and a piercing scream echoed through the street outside. Winter and Violet look at each other in slight confusion. Winter’s heart thumped once more. Then Winter heard the groans and snarls of the zombies, and she was transported back to her ruined house for a few seconds.

  The door to the back room opened and Connor hurried out.

  “What was that?” He gasped.

  Winter ran to the window. A group of zombies stumbled along the street, branching off to break into houses. Winter wondered if they were the guests from the party, but none of them were dressed in ruined designer clothes.

  “They’re here.” Winter ran to the door and locked it. At the sound, lifeless eyes turned to them and the zombies began running towards the door.

  “They can hear the sound.” Connor gasped. “They’re attracted by noise.”

  Winter ignored him. Violet was at her side, absorbing the zombie appearance. She began shutting the blinds on the door when they heard a scream from the kitchen. Violet took out her gun skilfully and jumped over the counter, her gun hand raised ready for attack. Winter doubted very much that Violet had really been telling the truth when she had said she hadn’t used the weapon much. Connor stood in the middle of the room, staring at the zombies who were pressed up against the window.

  Winter hurried over to their table and picked up the table leg weapon, while Connor followed Violet into the kitchen. When Winter got there she saw three zombies ripping flesh from the waitress on the floor.

  All three zombies turned at the same time and locked their bloodshot eyes on Winter, Violet and Connor. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

  They snarled and leaped at them so quickly that they had to duck out of the way. Winter lifted the table leg and swung at the nearest zombie, hitting it across the head, but it was no use. It just turned right back and screamed at her. Violet fired a bullet at a zombie before shooting the cabinets on the wall, hoping that when they fell they distracted the zombies.

  The cabinets crashed to the ground with a clutter of deafening sounds. The zombies turned to see what the commotion was. Violet shot each one straight through the head. Their lifeless bodies falling forwards onto the blood-splattered floor.

  “Oh my god.” Connor gasped from the doorway.

  With the zombies on the ground no longer moving, Violet knelt down by the waitress, who was gasping for air. Winter went to the kitchen door that led out into a back alleyway and locked it.

  The waitresses face was ripped apart. She was still alive but she was losing a lot of blood and had been bitten all over her body. Her breath was slow and raspy. Her eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness.

  “She’s infected,” Winter said. “Even if she dies she’ll come back as one of them.”

  “What the hell are we going to do?” Connor groaned. They were surrounded.

  Violet stood above the girl. She lifted her gun hand, which was pretty steady, and shot the girl straight in the head.

  Connor let out a weak breath of shock.

  “Well, we could have handled this with a bit more style,” Violet said, observing the walls and floor that was splattered with blood.

  They left the dead girl and the defeated zombies on the tiled kitchen floor and walked back into the diner. They shut the kitchen door and blocked it with bar stools. Connor approached the last window that hadn’t been covered with a blind and pulled it down, jumping at the loud
thuds from the zombies hitting their bodies against the glass. Winter saw there were more outside now.

  “Oh my god,” Violet gasped. “Is that what you both had to face?”

  Connor nodded. “Just ten times worse.”

  “Does this lead upstairs?” Winter asked, pushing open a door that was in the corner of the room. As the door swung open they saw steps leading up to another floor.

  Violet pushed past Winter and led the way, holding her gun at the ready in case there was anybody upstairs waiting for them. They got to the top of the stairs and found themselves in an apartment which was pretty run down and smelt stale. The carpet was dilapidated, revealing floorboards. Violet went to check each room, Connor locked the door behind them and Winter walked into the living room, which was empty apart from a dusty mirror on the floor and a sunken sofa, and peered down into the street below.

  The zombies were making their way out of the town now, like a bored gang looking for some other people to disrupt. A few houses still remained intact, but others had smashed glass and doors hanging off hinges. Winter could see people’s silhouettes behind the blinds of the upstairs windows. It seemed every building in this street had an apartment upstairs. Winter wondered how many of those people were infected, and how many had remained safe.

  “There’s no one here,” Violet said, making Winter jump. “What’s it look like down there?”

  “Grim,” Winter said. “They’re making their way out of the town now.”

  “Did anyone survive?”

  “I can see a few shadows behind the blinds of the apartments, but they could be infected.”

  Violet nodded. “We won’t stay here for long. Don’t talk to anyone and don’t unlock any of the doors until we leave.”

  Winter nodded. “What are the bedrooms like?”

  Violet grimaced. “Stinky. They smell of damp and rot and dirt. Um, you’re staying on the sofa.”

  Winter nodded. “Fine by me.”

  “Connor can sleep on the floor.”

  Winter didn’t reply. She was too worried something would happen outside.

  Violet clapped her hands together. “Want a drink?”