She realised she had left her gun up on the third floor; in the office she had had her argument with Zach. She was helpless without it, especially now.
She turned and began to run, listening to the thumps on the window behind her. She was sure she heard it crack but she didn’t turn back. Instead, she slammed the door shut hoping the loudness of it was enough to wake up Violet and Zach. She was sure there would be zombies against their windows, too.
She ran back up the dark stairwell, remarking on how calm the building looked from other parts. She tripped on the last step and smacked straight into the glass wall. It smashed and she began to fall forwards, down to the last floor below. She managed to grab the railing, as glass fell around her. She breathed in, counting herself lucky.
A second later the door of the office Violet and Zach shared opened. Violet headed out of the room, again in her underwear, without weapon, observing the glass pile on the floor.
She looked up to see Winter balanced precariously on the floor above, hovering slightly towards the edge but still gripping tightly to the side of the railing.
“What the hell is going on?” Violet asked. Her voice was harsh, but she sounded worried. Winter wondered if Violet panicked for her friend, or didn’t even care.
“The zombies. They’re on that side of the building. They’re going to get in!”
Just then there was a scream from the office Violet stood outside of. The sound of glass smashing sounded pitifully and then groans and hisses of the dead began to echo around them. The sound of footsteps echoed Winter’s beating heart, and Zach tumbled out of the office with two guns in his hand, a shirt that was undone to reveal his chest, and flowery boxers.
“They’re in!” Zach screamed. “They’re inside!”
Violet took her gun from Zach before he ran towards the stairwell. As he passed the office Winter had come out of, the glass panes displaying company names smashed and zombies hurtled through. Zach fired at the glass in front of him that separated the stairwell and watched it shatter before leaping through and climbing the steps.
Winter pulled herself back to her feet and began to run to the third floor. She could hear bullets being fired on the first floor and was only slightly aware that Violet had been left behind.
“Winter!” Zach screamed.
Winter didn’t reply. She had to get a weapon before it was too late.
As she got to the third floor, a tight muscle pain underneath her buttocks, she thought about locking herself in an office. But then she heard a scream. Running out into the third floor hallway, she looked down to the first floor and saw Violet fleeing the number of zombies pursing her. Winter could see Violet was leading them to reception. The building would soon be full.
Winter sped up. She was not wearing shoes and each time her bare feet hit solid ground she winced.
She could hear the kids crying somewhere below and felt guilty that she had left them behind. She hadn’t heard Zach since she got to the third floor, and for a horrible moment she thought he was dead.
She got to the middle of the building, hurried past the third floor kitchen, and made her way to the other side of the building, which was quiet but wouldn’t be quiet for long.
She skidded past the office room she had been in earlier that day. Turning back, she saw Zach running towards her, holding the hands of two petrified children. She was relieved to see him, but she knew there was no time. She flung open the office door, charged in, picked up her gun and charged back out of the room before Zach had even arrived.
“What are you doing?” He screamed. “Lock us in! Lock us in, for god’s sake!”
“We need to get out of this building, Zach.” Winter gasped. She suddenly felt breathless. She was aware of a stitch in her side that was outweighed by the pains in her upper thighs. Her body seemed to be giving up on her. She needed it to function properly in a situation such as this.
“Where’s Violet?” Zach cried. His unbuttoned shirt billowed as he let go of the kids and ran to the railing, looking to the floors below. “There’s nobody downstairs. Come on, if we’re getting out of here let’s go now.”
“Don’t you want to find Violet?”
“We’ll find her.”
Zach led the way, leaving the kids to Winter. She gripped their shaking hands in her sweaty palms and they followed Zach.
Winter could hear the sounds of the zombies. She could hear their groans, could almost smell their decaying flesh. She remembered it mentally, for if she were to survive she would write it down in her journal.
As they got to the stairwell, Winter’s ankle gave up on her. Her foot fell to one side and she fell on her hands and knees, her face inches away from whacking the floor. Her journal bounced away from her. She could hear Zach running. He was going to leave her behind.
She eyed the journal and snatched it back up. Her gun, strapped around her body, was heavy. She ignored the dull ache in her ankle and made her way down the steps once more. As she got to the second floor, she could see that Zach was holding the door open. Running down the hallway, pursued by a dozen zombies, was Violet. She held her gun; her eyes were fixed on Zach. Winter noticed how her body moved with a rhythm, the dark night sky casting her bare body in sultry shadows. Her stomach rippled while her legs flowed past each other, her arms cutting through the air. She was outrunning the decaying zombies, but they would be upon them if they didn’t move.
Winter turned away from Zach, who was holding out his hand for Violet, and spotted the kids hiding in the stairwell below. She panicked, afraid that the dead cornered them, but hurrying down the steps she saw that for now the bottom floor was empty. She crouched down by the kids, tried to calm them down with her own shaking hands.
“It’s going to be okay, Connor, Leah, everything will be okay, okay?”
The kids just nodded as tears fell from their tired eyes.
“ZACH!”
Winter turned in time to see Zach grab Violet’s hand and literally lift her through the air. She spun around, wrapping her arms around Zach’s neck, planting a kiss on his lips as the zombies made their way towards them.
“Thank you,” Violet breathed.
“Come on, we have to move,” Zach said.
They turned just as the door leading to the stairwell shut. A zombie smacked straight into the glass, growling as it did so. The dozen behind it screamed and hissed, chilling Winter’s skin. And then, as Violet and Zach reached the bottom floor, the shattering of glass paralysed them just for a second. They heard thuds as the zombies nearest the glass fell onto the floor, but then they realised the stairwell was now occupied by not only them, but the dead as well.
Winter looked to her left. There, illuminated by a weak moonlight and glowing like a beacon of hope was a fire escape door, leading out to a deserted pathway.
Winter threw herself at the door, pressing the bar inwards, feeling the door release and swing out into the early hours of the next day.
She charged out into the night, her bare feet scratching on the stone floor. The kids followed Winter and made their way towards the car park, away from the building at the same time Winter’s senses registered that the air was humidly warm and the night was still. Yet Winter knew they weren’t out of trouble yet.
Violet hurried through and gripped Winter’s arm to steady herself as she stumbled. She was only in her underwear and looked like a little girl. Zach followed, pulling the fire escape door shut behind him, and they heard the sickening thuds as the dead crashed into the door and growled at them.
“They fucking took our home.” Violet growled.
The piercing scream of a child in terror reverberated on their ears. Winter began to run to the car park, where she knew the kids had gone, but not before she registered the look of annoyance exchanged between Violet and Zach.
She didn’t care if they were not following her. All she cared about was saving the kids.
She burst through some bushes and fell out into the car park, which was cr
awling with the dead. The kids were stood in the middle, and the dead were surrounding them like lions taunting a gazelle.
Winter ran to the lone-parked car and pulled herself up onto the roof. The sound of her gun hitting the metal alerted the zombies to her arrival. As she stood up, Winter lifted her gun and began to fire. She wasn’t aware she was screaming, her rage from the past couple of days pouring out of her at last. She just watched as her bullets collided with the dead. She enjoyed watching them fall, enjoyed watching them head towards her only to be shot down. She saw Zach running towards the kids and saw Violet running away from the scene.
Winter lowered her gun, her eyes following Violet. She was fleeing. She was leaving them behind. She wasn’t being pursued by anything but her own ambition to escape. Winter shouted her name. Violet didn’t reply. Zach looked up at Winter and screamed.
Winter turned to see a zombie launch towards her and over the car. It grabbed her in mid air and she felt her bare feet leave the cold metal roof of the vehicle. Suddenly her safety was gone as she lost all of her senses, everything turning upside down as dead hands gripped her skin.
They landed on the floor, Winter’s bushy hair managing to cushion some of the impact when she hit her head on the ground. She heard guns firing and saw the zombie buckle and roll off her.
She looked up, the world spinning, to see Zach running after Violet and the kids following him, too scared to approach Winter who lay next to a zombie who may or may not be dead.
Winter tried to shout to them. She could see they were about to round the corner, and if they rounded the corner they would be out of sight. That frightened Winter. Then she would be alone.
She began to sit up, but she was aware that the beast next to her was also moving. She clambered across the ground. Her gun was a few feet away and the journal even further. She reached for the gun just as she heard the screech of the last remaining zombie. She grabbed the gun, lifted it through the air and lay on her back just as the zombie towered above her.
She shot, watched the blood splatter as its head exploded, shielded her eyes as she was covered in disgusting, foul smelling blood.
She didn’t open her eyes until she heard it fall. When she looked through her slightly unfocused eyes, she saw she was in a car park splattered with the dead.
She stood up, and with her aching ankle she began to stumble towards the exit of the car park, where she had watched Violet, Zach and the kids flee.
How could Violet leave them? She had just left all of them, including Zach. She had watched Winter fight off the number of zombies, and she had waited for the right moment when Zach was busy with something else. She had made a break for it. If Zach, blinded by love, hadn’t seen her motives then he was an idiot.
Winter felt her naked feet touch leather binding, and looking down she saw the journal she had dropped. She picked it up, tucking it away in her jeans. She lifted her gun a little higher and picked up her pace, hurrying towards the exit.
She cast a look back at the building she had just escaped, and saw the figures of the dead in the hallways. She stopped and watched them for just a few seconds, and remarked on how lucky they had been. It had been safe inside, but as soon as they had gotten in it had proved near impossible to escape.
She rounded the corner of the building, checking that there weren’t any zombies on the other side before casting her eyes around her. When they had arrived, it had been dark, windy and raining, and zombies had also chased them. She hadn’t had time to take in her surroundings.
Now, however, she saw their building was situated away from the main road. Opposite her was a stone, white house with a stone court outside, equipped with flags that were lying against the pole without any wind to hold them in the air. She thought it looked too formal to be anything business. To her left stood a lane, and at the end of the lane was a mass of dark trees. To her right was road, and as she watched she saw Zach running towards the main road with the kids still following him. Violet was nowhere to be seen.
Winter thought she should wait for Zach, but as he got to the main road and crossed, she thought it was no use. Her suspicions were confirmed when, without looking back, Zach headed away down the main road and out of sight.
Winter shook her head. She suddenly felt like something was stuck in her chest, seeping fear into her blood stream. She breathed in and heard her breath shake with nerves.
She was alone.
She turned away from the main road and headed towards the mass of trees. She passed a glass building that looked untouched and wondered if anybody was inside. She hovered in place for a moment, wondering if she should find new people, but thought better of it.
Instead, she carried on walking, trying to ignore the stone that cut at the soles of her feet. She passed a garage, where cars were parked up, some bonnets left open from a job left undone.
She peered around the nearest car and into the garage and spotted three zombies, their back turned, pulling out the insides of a man who lay on the ground.
Feeling sick, Winter crept away and into the trees.
Out of sight of the main road, Winter suddenly realised just how daring this was. She couldn’t see ten feet in front of her such was the density of the trees.
Winter leant against one of the trees and gathered herself for a moment or two. What had happened just moments ago had happened so fast. Winter had gone from one emotion to the other, none of which were nice and some of which she didn’t know a person could feel.
Fear had propelled her through that building, but another level of fear had almost made her stop and give up. Survival had made her keep going, and had helped her get out of the building and clear the area, but now survival was telling her to keep going, even though another emotion, anxiety, told her this wasn’t right. Then she had been outraged that Violet had left so easily, sad that she had been left without a second thought, and scared once more because she was alone.
So she began her way through the thick trees, over cold, penetrable floor that hadn’t dried from the storm a few nights ago, and winced as twigs, stones and other natural substances attacked her feet. She jumped when she saw a rat scurry past and feared the sound of a bird’s flight above her.
She began to hurry, suddenly aware she had been walking awhile and yet she wasn’t seeing anything but trees. She had been stupid to come this way. She had tried to turn back, only to find she was going in another direction. She looked left and right, listened out for footsteps, for people, for cars, anything that would get her out of here, but the woods were even quieter than the early hours of the night.
She was lost.
She tried telling herself that if she kept walking in one direction she would get out, but after awhile of doing so she started to lose faith in her words.
She wanted to just collapse and cry until somebody found her. She felt like giving up now. She had nowhere else to go. How was she supposed to find safety when she knew London wasn’t safe at all?
She regretted the way she had left things with Violet and Zach. They hadn’t really cared about her even when zombies invading that newspaper building threatened them. They wouldn’t have cared if she had died, and Winter was sure that even now they probably hadn’t noticed she was no longer with them.
Then she heard the sound of a stream; the unmistakable sound of water running over stones and the dull hum of a stronger river running somewhere else.
She began to run. If she could follow the stream, she could find a town, or a street. Was it possible that this stream ran into the river Thames? If it did, could she follow it with safety and get out of London alive?
With that idea in her head, she felt like she was running on air. She didn’t even register the searing pain of a fresh cut on the side of her foot, made by a jagged stone she had just stepped on. She didn’t acknowledge the dirty mud that wrapped itself in between her toes. But she did notice the figure stood across from her, staring at her with recognisably dead eyes, the only thing separating
her from his touch again was a seven-foot stretch of water.
Her granddad, dead and decaying, hissed at her. Winter stood where she had stopped, unable to move, the only sound she heard was her heart beating. The intensity of her fear took her back to that night when she was fourteen. She was back in that mind set, unable to help herself, unable to think straight or escape his clutches.
How could he be here? She had killed him years before the outbreak. She had watched him die. She had watched him lowered into the ground. She had watched the earth piled back on top of him. She had seen it with her very own eyes. How could the already deceased of years before walk the earth again?
She watched as he walked through the shallow water so easily and unperturbed, as if he was a normal human being again, dressed up for Halloween.
Winter held up her hands as he approached, closing the gap between them. He was walking. He wasn’t running. It was almost as if he knew this was Winter Smith, his grandchild, who he had so lovingly abused.
“Please, please, leave me alone, Granddad,” Winter sobbed. “It’s me, Winter Smith. Your Winter Smith. You don’t want to hurt me.”
Her zombie granddad, wrapped up in his best suit that he had been buried in, cocked his damaged head. He hissed at her, drool pouring from his limp mouth. Then, without warning, he went for her.
Winter screamed, and as she did so she abolished her fourteen-year-old self and replaced it with her seventeen-year-old survivor.
She dodged out of his way, gripping the tree trunk next to her to manoeuvre herself. She found herself staring at the back of her granddad, his ribs visible through a gaping hole in his back; one that she had made with his own axe. Feeling nauseas, Winter lifted her gun and shot. The bullet lodged into his stomach, but he turned around and headed towards her again, the bullet feeding his temper.
She narrowly avoided being grabbed. She was determined not to feel his touch again. As she dropped to the floor she scooped up a stone and threw it at his head. She heard the dull thud, and she even though she saw part of his skull sink in.
Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning Page 27