Thirteen Roses Book One: Before: An Apocalyptic Zombie Saga

by Michael Cairns

  His blush grew deeper and her laugh came from her belly, filling the air and making her headache sit up and start banging. 'Was she pretty? Or he, sorry, no offence.'

  'She is exquisite. She's a goddess with hair like the night and eyes in which even the truest of men lose themselves.'

  'Wow. Impressive. Mine was a munter. Actually, that's not true. I don't really remember, but I think he was a bit of a dick.'

  'Isn't that what you wanted?'

  It was her turn to blush and she nodded. 'Touché. Your flowers are very beautiful.'

  'Thank you. I do believe you should buy something from me. I have it on good faith that you might want some today.'

  'Do you now. And who told you that?'

  'Oh, the wind and the stars. The sound that comes just before daybreak, the sigh the moon makes as she sinks below the horizon.'

  'Lots of people talking about me.'

  'You'd be amazed.'

  They grinned at one another and she stuck her face in first one bunch of flowers and then another. They all had their own smells and every one was as lovely as the last. As she breathed them in, her headache faded until it was a dull throb at the base of her skull. She took a step back and looked at him.

  'Why were you drinking?'

  'Big thing at work, lots of stress.'

  'What's stressful about selling flowers?'

  'I have to meet my quota. The boss is pretty hard on us.'

  'Wow. I didn't realise it was such a high-pressure job.'

  'Not many people do. Can I tempt you to some roses?'

  'Yes, you may.'

  He wrapped them with a grace she hadn't expected after seeing the puffer jacket and the bloodshot eyes. He handed them over and she dug for her wallet.

  'No charge. Really.'

  'How does that fit in with meeting your quota?'

  He shrugged. 'Sometimes, the quota just doesn't matter. It was nice talking to you.'

  'You too.'

  She strolled slowly away. He shouted after her. 'Hang on a minute.'

  She turned and watched him jog slowly across the pavement, wincing with every step. He stopped before her, huffing and puffing.

  'Sorry, forgot to mention. I put a thirteenth in there. If you wanted to give it to someone, it might be nice.'

  She nodded, tucking her nose inside the nearest and taking a deep breath. 'Yeah, that's a nice idea. Thanks again.'

  He sketched a mock bow which she returned with a curtsey, and watched him head back off to his stall. Strange man. Nice roses, though. Her head still hurt, but was considerably better than she had any right to feel. She looked down into the roses. They were the colour of romance, if such a thing had a colour.

  Taylor snorted and shook her head. And she knew all about romance of course. Last night had been all about the romance. She sniffed and headed for the tube. Now she could go home. She walked through the barrier at Embankment and down the escalator. She reached the bottom and hesitated.

  She should go home. She needed a shower so bad. But something, some urge compelled her and she headed down the opposite tunnel. Maybe she'd head to the East End, take a wander around Mile End, relive some old memories.

  She wandered down the tunnel, wincing as the sound of a badly played saxophone grew steadily stronger. The guy playing it appeared like a bad cliché at the end of the tunnel. He wore a brown suit and flat cap and was a hundred if he was five. She got the feeling he'd once been very good, but his timing was shot so all the notes bled into one another and made this soupy sort of mess.

  He tipped her a nod as she passed, the melody slipping and she gave him a smile. She walked past and paused, glancing back. With a shrug, she pulled a rose free of the bunch and placed it carefully into the soft guitar case he was using to collect money. He looked down at it and the sax slipped from his mouth. When their eyes met, she flinched to see tears collecting in his.

  Taylor Part Two

  The busker blinked his tears away and stared at the mouthpiece of his saxophone, as if only just realising he'd stopped playing. He bent slowly at the knees, picked up the rose, tucked it behind his ear and resumed his meandering, tunefully challenged styling.

  Taylor listened for a moment before turning away and limping towards the tube. She heard the rush of wind and picked up her pace. She arrived on the platform just as the doors hissed shut and she thumped it with her hand. The train jerked forwards and then stopped. The doors half-opened and she stepped forwards, only for them to close again.

  With a glare at the mirrors at the end of the platform, she sat on the bench and watched the tube hustle into the tunnel. The screeching of the wheels on the track made her head ache all over again and she moaned. What the hell was she doing? She should be at home by now, lying in bed, or maybe watching crap daytime T--

  BOOOOOMMM!

  It sounded like an effect from a disaster movie, like the Transformers had just blown something up. She was half out of her seat when a wave of heat and smoke exploded from the tunnel and swept over her. With it came screaming, high-pitched and desperate.

  She flew back onto the seat, bounced off it and hit the floor. The roses flew from her hand, the plastic splitting open so they scattered across the platform. Her hips were complaining with a dull ache she hadn't felt in a long time. There were screams from the platform, people shouting 'bomb' and 'help' and other useful things.

  She pushed herself to her hands and knees, trying to see through the smoke. A train came in on the other platform and whisked the wind about, pulling at her clothes as her vision grew suddenly better. She crawled to the edge of the platform and stared down into the tunnel.

  There were flames and more smoke, but the only light came from the fire and it painted a scene of utter destruction. It had to be a bomb. It didn't matter. She turned herself around and slid off the platform until her feet touched the floor. She had to be careful not to touch one of the rails. Which one was it? She would avoid all three, that was the best option.

  The smoke was thick in here and she pulled her t-shirt up over her mouth. Her eyes watered and she blinked it away. There were voices ahead, people crying and screaming. She put her hand on something hot and yanked it back, howling as her skin was seared.

  She scrubbed her eyes, trying to see through the gloom. The bomb had been at this end of the train; it was destroyed, ripped apart. She saw something white peeking through the smoke and her gorge rose up. She slewed to the side and threw up as she recognised bone poking free from the charred flesh.

  She had to help someone, but what the hell was she supposed to do? She pulled her jacket sleeves down over her hands and tried to pull wreckage out of the way. The second piece of metal she hauled on was still attached and accompanied by a creaking sound that made her jump back.

  Too late, she looked up and saw the tonne of tube train roof as it came down. It caught her on the head and drove her to her knees, then slammed into her back. Her last thought, as her face was driven into the sharp edges of the tube, was of the busker and the rose she'd stopped to give to him.

  Interlude

  Luke screamed and howled and thumped his hands on the desk as though it would make any difference to what had just happened. What was she thinking? He'd done it so beautifully and made it so easy for her. It had even been poetic, the doors opening and closing again, tempting her, then throwing her back.

  But instead of walking free, she was dead in the tube tunnel and he was three-four down with the Father arriving tonight. It couldn't have been engineered better if the entire thing had been planned. He shoved his desk hard enough to slam it against the dry stone wall of his chamber and rose.

  It had been planned. It had to have been. He was the best, not just at this, but at anything he put his mind to. He'd been hitting eighty or ninety percent for the last few centuries and now this happened. Even the subjects he'd got right had ended badly. This was planned from beginning to end, so who'd planned it?

  The Father? Could be, but why
bother? He could do what he wanted without following some pointless charade. Who else could it be? He bore a wry smile as he turned and gazed out over the stars. Who couldn't it have been? He liked to think it was unlikely to be Az or Seph, but there were no guarantees. He needed to know, though.

  He threw himself from the edge and flew out into space. He fell from his chamber, leaving behind the rough stone edge and diving down through the darkness. There were thousands of them, stone huts and wooden houses and shells the size of trucks, and all manner of living quarters, floating in space with open backs, and in every one someone like him, or someone like Az, was hard at work.

  He caught the thermals and rose, huge wings flapping slowly as they carried him up to a chamber near the top of the Flights. He landed on the edge and held himself there with long wing beats. Seph leaned on the desk, staring fixedly through his window at something only he could see.

  Luke knelt down and steadied himself, waiting. He peered over Seph's shoulder and narrowed his eyes. Sometimes he could see another's subject, if he tuned in properly. It should be easier with someone he knew.

  A picture formed in the space of a desert and a man taking long, lurching steps through the sand. In the seconds that he watched, the man stopped and toppled forwards. He raised his head once and dropped it again. Seph leaned back into his chair, hissing through his teeth and thumping the desk.

  'That didn't look successful.'

  Seph jumped and spun round, then raised his hands. 'Luke, come on in, don't hang around on the edge. How are you feeling?'

  Seph rubbed his head as he asked and Luke smiled. 'Better. And worse. You?'

  'The same. I felt shocking this morning, utterly shocking. Then I lost the headache but now I've lost my bloody subject. By the way, how come you saw it?'

  Luke shrugged. 'You just have to concentrate. Where does that leave you?'

  'Five-two. Not my best but thoroughly satisfactory.' Luke nodded, trying and failing to look enthusiastic. Seph's face fell and Luke sighed in relief. He hadn't planned it. His look of dismay as he realised why Luke was here said it all.

  'You didn't make it.'

  It wasn't a question but Luke answered anyway. 'I lost her. I did it all right and she didn't get on the train, then she ran into the sodding tunnel to rescue someone. She was bloody disabled, what was she thinking?'

  Seph's face dropped even further. 'Shit, sorry. That's bad timing.'

  'You think?' Luke put his wings away and slumped into the other chair, leaning back until the front two legs came off the floor. 'I've been set up. This is all deliberate.'

  Seph looked shocked for all of two seconds before he nodded. 'That's entirely possible, but who did it?'

  'Take your pick.' Luke waved a hand toward the thousands of chambers hanging below them. 'Most of them have a reason, if they want one.'

  Seph nodded. 'I hate to say this, but I'm not sure it matters overmuch. And I'm not sure we'll have time to find out who. The Father will be here in…' he checked his watch, '…a couple of hours. You might do better putting your affairs in order.'

  'Affairs? What affairs? I don't have any affairs. He's allowed me precisely nothing in the entire time I've been here.'

  'Maybe you should say goodbye to Sara then.' The smile on his face meant he knew what had happened last night.

  'How the hell did you find out about that?'

  Seph grinned and tapped the side of his nose. 'A gentleman never gives away his sources.'

  'Yeah, well, thanks for the pep talk. If I'm gone by tomorrow, I want you to find out who was behind this.'

  'Haven't you considered that it might just be the Father? He would be quite happy to have an excuse to be rid of you.'

  'Why would he go through all this though? Why not just banish me?'

  'You have supporters. Not many, I'll admit, but there are a few rather powerful beings who think you've more than paid your dues. Screwing you over now without just cause would not sit well with them.'

  Luke wrinkled his nose. 'The Father does what he wants and bollocks to anyone who argues.'

  'Maybe, maybe. I'm not so sure.'

  Luke shifted in his chair. 'Gotta go.'

  'Hey, make sure you say goodbye.'

  'I'm so glad you're already that sure I'm being sent away.'

  Seph shrugged and smiled sympathetically. It was the last thing Luke saw as he threw himself out into space. From up here the Dome looked tiny, a spot surrounded by the specks of the chambers. Perhaps if he went straight down there, he'd have time to visit Sara before the Father arrived.

  He shook his head and leaned into the updraft, heading across the vast space towards another of the chambers. This was considerably lower than his own and took a few minutes to get to. He landed on the edge and wandered in. The demon chambers were quite different from theirs and he felt his usual pang of jealousy as he wandered into Az's home.

  Where his chamber was wide open, Az's ended in a small opening. He paced down the narrow tunnel that lay beyond it, running his fingers along the cold stones. It felt like home. Beyond it lay a room, similar in size to his own. A fire burned at one end, huddled within a sunken pit. The window was on one wall and was dark.

  Az lounged on his bed, book open before him.

  'Didn't know you could read.'

  'Don't remember inviting you in. How'd it go?'

  Luke shook his head and sat in the big swivel chair before the window. It was black plastic and leather, and completely out of place. And very comfortable. Az shook his head, pursing his lips. 'Sorry man, that sucks. What now?'

  'Well, that's what I'm trying to decide. Someone set me up--'

  'You sure?'

  'It wouldn't have happened otherwise. And look when it's happened. What are the chances?'

  'Fair enough. So who was it?'

  'That's what I want to know. Seph thinks I haven't got time, thinks I should spend my few remaining hours with Sara.'

  'That's an excellent idea. Good work there, by the way, very smooth.' Az raised an eyebrow, broad grin splitting his blood-red features. 'Gotta say, it would seriously bum me out not knowing who stitched me up.'

  'Right, exactly. So where do I start?'

  Az smiled again. 'With your friends.'

  Their eyes met and Luke folded his arms, keeping his face impassive. Finally Az looked at the floor then back up at him. 'Fine, it was me. I've been jealous of your gorgeous hair for so long, my anger got the better of me. Can you forgive me?'

  Luke watched him for a moment longer before letting out a long breath. 'Hey, can you blame me?'

  'Not at all. I'm a demon, it's what I'm supposed to do. But seriously, me and Seph... well actually, I wouldn't trust Seph one little bit, dodgy bastard.'

  He grinned and Luke let his arms drop to the chair where his fingers drummed on the plastic rests. Az raised his chin. 'Who've you pissed off recently?'

  'The question is, who have I pissed off who knew the Father was coming to visit?'

  Az sat forwards, eyes widening. 'Yeah, bloody hell, that's right. That narrows it down a bit.' He sat back, frowning. 'Unfortunately, it narrows it down to big players, people I don't wanna be anywhere near.'

  'And I do?'

  'C'mon Luke, don't go all coy on me. You've got the moves for anyone in the Dome.'

  Luke shrugged, examining his nails. 'I can't get anyone riled up though, not now. If there's any chance he's gonna let me off--'

  He was stopped by Az snorting loudly and bursting out laughing. 'He's got your number, Luke, don't even hope otherwise. This is the perfect opportunity.'

  Luke ran through the list in his head. There were the Three, but they rarely got involved in anything, and the one time he met them, he'd got the feeling they were more on his side than the Father's. There were a couple of high level demons who still hated him for taking over back home. Bast wouldn't be averse to taking a swipe, but she'd want him to know it was her.

  The truth was, there were too many, even with the knowle
dge of the Father's movements thrown in the mix. And the big man wasn't particularly secret about what he was doing either. Luke stood, kissing his teeth as he stumped to the fire and held his hands out. He didn't have a bloody clue where to start.

  The silence deepened and they both jumped when the bell sounded. 'Shit, dammit.'

  'Time's up, man, let's get down there and get good seats.'

  Az bounded past him, scooping up his axe as he went and throwing it over his shoulder. The strap slapped against his skin as it snapped taut.

  'Do you need that?'

  Az smiled. 'You never know. But it's a ceremonial thing. It's more for the other demons than you lot.'

  Luke followed him out and they jumped one by one into the darkness. Luke's wings split apart and he slowed his descent. By contrast, Az plummeted, hurtling towards the Dome. His voice drifted up.

  'Hurry up, you're gonna miss the best seats.'

  Luke looked around and realised what he was talking about. The darkness was filled with beings, winged and not, some with skin as pale as snow and others darker than the night sky. The giants were floating down in their shells, disks larger than his entire chamber, while the faeries floated like fireflies, tiny spots of light that flickered and spun.

  Luke's own kind filled the space above, smooth skin and white feathers blocking out the darkness that hung above the Flights. Down here, the demons were responding with as much alacrity, red and mottled brown skin making a carpet into which he flew.

  The chambers were emptying and it was a sight he'd not seen since before the Father's previous visit. It felt different now, though. This time it felt like the first time, when he'd been cast down. Back then, the Flights had been emptying for a very different reason. Now all bowed before the Father, all just as fearful as he was. Well, perhaps not quite as fearful.

  He pulled in his wings and put his head down and soared until his face was pulled this way and that by the wind. He cut through the shield of falling demons and reached one of the entrances to the Dome before the rush. Az waited, leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. Luke raised an eyebrow at him and they dashed through to the grand hall.