Thirteen Roses Book One: Before: An Apocalyptic Zombie Saga

by Michael Cairns

  She moved, but not fast enough, and the claws caught her across the leg. She howled as her trousers were ripped open and curled nails opened three long tears in her leg. She yanked it back and wrapped her jeans around the wounds, staring at the zombie. It hesitated, as though deciding what the best smelling meal was. Then the puller yanked again and zombie number one turned away, growling at the body thief.

  It turned serious this time, her attacker lunging over the body to clout his comrade in the face. His claws opened up more wounds and some of the others fell on puller, dragging him away from the lift. He was still living, and she saw teeth dig into his shoulder and more into his neck, and the sound he made reminded her of the baby pigeons she watched; high-pitched squawking that went on and on before abruptly cutting off.

  Someone else had taken the place of the puller and Rob was almost out of the lift. She watched and shook her head as Ed scrambled up and shoved the body the rest of the way. Zombie number one was engrossed in opening Rob's stomach with its teeth and barely reacted.

  Then Ed stepped back and hit the down button and finally the doors closed all the way. He dropped onto his butt and let out a long breath. He raised his hand. 'What just happened?'

  She patted him on the shoulder. 'They've all become zombies.'

  'Zombies?'

  'Yeah. Weird, huh?'

  'Why us? Why are we still alive?'

  'I have no idea. Not sure I will be much longer, though, not with this.'

  She edged her torn jeans away from the cuts and inspected them. They were shallower than she'd thought and the bleeding was minimal. Ed knelt over them and prodded with one outstretched finger. Then he shook his head. 'Nah, you'll be alright with them. It's only bites that infect.'

  'How the hell d'you know?'

  'I've read everything there is to know about zombies. Vampires too, but they don't exist.'

  'Not unless you're some hot, skinny American school girl.'

  Ed grinned. 'Nah, they're the most non-existent ones there are. You have to get bitten by a zombie if you wanna be infected.'

  'So just like vampires then?'

  'Sort of. Only vampires drink blood and zombies either want to eat brains or all of you.'

  'Don't think those ones were all that bothered.'

  He shook his head, frowning.

  'What?'

  'Why us? Why aren't we zombies?'

  'Why's it so important?'

  He shook his head again, blinking as he looked at her. 'It might not be, but normally if you're left alive, there's a reason. I suppose we might have a natural immunity to whatever was in the fog, but what's the chances of you and I having it and none of the others?'

  The doors pinged and slid open and they both froze, staring at the widening gap. The lobby looked like it was night time. She realised it was the fog surrounding the building and keeping most of the sunlight out. There were no zombies in sight and she let out the breath she'd been holding.

  'Look, any chance we could solve the mystery of our survival after we find somewhere safe?'

  'That's fine by me, but where's going to be safe?'

  Krystal shrugged and got to her feet. 'Somewhere they can't get in, I guess. A house or a flat or something?'

  They made it across the lobby and to the door. The fog was thick outside, so they couldn't see further than ten feet in any direction. It was high as well, going far above their heads. When they stepped out into it, their world would shrink. And the zombies could come from anywhere.

  Ed grabbed her arm. 'I don't want to go out there.'

  'You think? What else are we gonna do?'

  He stared at her, those dark eyes mirroring what she felt but was determined not to show.

  'C'mon, it'll be fine. We move fast as we can and head back towards the city.'

  'Why the city?'

  'We know places there. There'll be places we can get in and be safe. I don't know what's around here. And hey, who's to say the zombies can see any better in the fog than we can? Maybe it'll help us.'

  Ed looked about as convinced as she felt when a politician appeared on a newspaper saying he was going to stamp out homelessness. It didn't happen very often and when it did she couldn't help hearing 'stamp out homeless people,' which seemed a bit pointless, because she couldn't have been more stamped out of the world already.

  She gripped Ed's hand, took a deep breath and pulled the door open. The fog billowed around them, carrying with it the scent of mould, like a building left too long with damp, and she coughed. Taking a far shallower breath this time, she dragged him with her into the fog.

  David - Thursday: Plague Day

  Peace and quiet was all he wanted. He could still be in his empty London, lulled to sleep by the lapping of the Thames while reciting the alphabet to ensure he didn't forget it. Being brought back was bad enough, but being brought back to this was evil, pure and simple. What had he ever done? He'd done nothing. He was innocent.

  The two receptionists were closing in, hands stretched out towards him. They would have been pretty not long ago. One had long black hair and her skin was darker than the rest, a sort of coffee colour with too much milk in. He shifted uncomfortably as he imagined them naked and not zombies.

  He giggled and slapped himself around the face. That was going too far. They were dead and rotting and would never be pretty again. He could imagine all he wanted, but they were about to eat him. For some reason though, the fear that had driven him here from Regents Park had evaporated. It was all a bit funny now.

  Their uniforms were funny, still so neat and prim, but collecting a dusting of dead and flaking skin on the upper half. They looked like they'd just walked through an ash cloud. He could have had both at the same time. He'd never had two women at the same time. He never would now, he reflected morosely, not now he was barmy. He giggled again.

  One of the receptionist's clawed hands closed around his wrist and the paralysis broke. He roared and yanked his hand free, then drove his fist straight into her face. The nose broke and warm, watery blood gushed over his fingers. He vomited into his mouth and swallowed it down, the bile burning as it returned to his stomach.

  The zombie staggered away and he turned to the other, lashing out and catching her on the side of the head. She, too, took a few steps back, but came straight forwards again. He raced off down the corridor and found the fire extinguisher. David hefted it in one hand, the grin back again.

  He drew a mental picture of himself, half-Joker half-Superman, and turned to the zombies. In the seconds it took them to reach him, he realised how easy life was without fear. Then he caught a whiff of their stench and the fear crept up his spine like a midnight spider. The one with the broken nose came first and he almost ran.

  The blood ran down her face and her yellow teeth showed through a dull pink. The blood soaked the front of her uniform and as she growled at him, it sprayed from her mouth. He jumped to one side and swung the extinguisher as hard as he could. The zombie hadn't moved and it struck her head bang-on.

  Her skull exploded. All he saw of it was her face, squashed together for a moment, then flying outwards, one eye coming straight at him. It hit him on the chin and bounced to the floor, and he followed it with sick. Her teeth were scattered among the blood and fragments of skull. Bits of brain matter dripped into it from the remains of her skull. Her body tottered and dropped.

  He backed away, frantically scrubbing his chin with his sleeve. The smell was a hundred times worse, like standing directly above a blocked drain, and he gagged. The other zombie was entirely unbothered and bent down beside the corpse. He'd been able to handle everything else, but when her long black hair dragged in the blood and she used one clawed hand to scoop what was left in the skull and cram it into her mouth, he whimpered and ran.

  He raced down the corridor to a glass fire door. Through that and down the stairs inside, he arrived in the basement, which was either a great idea or the worst he'd ever had. Actually, coming to the hotel was prob
ably the worst, but this might follow a close second.

  It was dimly lit and quiet, and he rested against the wall. He couldn't get the image out of his head, of her pale tongue licking the soft grey matter. He slid down and covered his head with his hands. Did he really deserve this? All he'd done was cheat on his wife and lie to the person he was cheating with. Millions of people did it every day. So where were they? Why was he the only one stuck in London surrounded by the grossest zombies known to man?

  Perhaps there were others. He didn't know for sure he was the only one still alive. If there were others, they'd be hiding the same as him, so of course they'd be difficult to find. Maybe some of them would be women. He thought about Steph. Maybe she was still alive.

  His heart leapt. How hadn't he thought of this before? Maybe there were lots of people still alive, all hiding in their basements and ducked down below their windows. He could bang on doors until someone opened one. There was no way he was the only one deserving of this, no way at all.

  He had to get out of the hotel. He had to find Steph. She was still alive, she had to be, and she'd sort everything. And a blow job would put so much right.

  He returned to the stairs and crept up them and out the fire door. He was walking with purpose now and had his breath back. His head thumped and his stomach rumbled but he could do this.

  He entered the corridor in which he'd left the zombies and paused. The sound of eating, wet and crunchy reached him and his hunger fled. He tiptoed until he saw her, bent low over the body of her companion. He crept closer still and she sat up sharply. He gasped and almost dropped the fire extinguisher. She looked at him with dark, sunken eyes and he braced his feet. Then she bent and put her face back in the guts of the other receptionist.

  He stared for a moment, waiting for his brain to catch up or do something other than scream. When he decided it was pretty much stuck on a loop, he set his feet apart, raised the extinguisher and brought it down as hard as he could on the back of her head.

  Most of her skull mixed and mingled with the guts just beneath it, and he ran before he could see any more. He kept running all the way to the exit before he stopped and looked at the extinguisher. It wasn't a bad weapon, but it was pretty heavy and he didn't like the idea of lugging it all the way down Regent Street.

  He looked around the lobby and spotted the umbrella pot. The umbrellas looked too flimsy, but there were two walking sticks in there. One had the thick rubber end and was next to useless, but the other was more of a tapered stick, with a sharpish end and a comfortable handle. He could stab with that, through eyes and mouths, and his mind just kept on screaming.

  He grabbed it and set off, through the exit and down onto the street. Nothing had changed. The sun was dipping and he'd half expected the zombies to head home once work was over, but still they meandered this way and that.

  Within moments of his arrival on the street, those closest to him turned and their growling rose in volume. He set off, running at a pace he thought he could maintain. He put one hand to his chest, reliving for a second the horrible feeling of being stuck in London with pneumonia, barely able to breath and having to rest every five seconds.

  Now, though, he had energy and he had a reason, and it carried him rapidly down Regent Street. Oxford Circus was predictably busy and he slowed as he reached it. There had been arguments; here and there were gatherings of feasting zombies, pulling apart their comrades. As far as continuation of the species went, these guys weren't the smartest. Not that they needed to worry, there were hundreds just in this small space. And he had to get through them.

  He banged his hand against his forehead as he finally looked at the cars and buses in various states of repair littering the street. Some were ploughed into shop fronts, others against lamp posts. A few were stopped in the street, with no visible signs of damage. With a silent shout of joy, he rushed across to a BMW slewed sideways across the road. The door was open and the keys hung in the ignition.

  He jumped in and noted with relief that the engine was switched off. The driver had gotten long enough to get out and run before he, or she, was zombiefied. Unless they were still alive. Unless they were one of the lucky ones like him.

  He turned the key and giggled as the engine roared to life. Every zombie in a twenty foot radius turned to stare at him, and he hastily yanked the door shut and checked the windows. He slipped it into first and pulled away. And stalled. He cursed, thumped the wheel and turned the key. The car grumbled and he went cold, then it sparked up again.

  He was more careful this time, pulling around the car in front and weaving slowly between the others. He'd gone maybe fifty feet when the first zombie threw itself on the bonnet. He stamped on the brakes and it slid off and landed on the floor in front of the car. With his lips pulled back from his teeth, he put his foot down. It sounded like driving over dead branches, only with damp ground beneath. His stomach turned over.

  He accelerated, weaving as carefully as he could without going too slowly. Within a couple of minutes, Piccadilly Circus came into view and he allowed himself a moment of triumph. He was going to make it. The junction was rammed and he took to the pavement, scattering zombies this way and that. It was like being in a Bourne movie. He giggled and put his foot down, screeching back onto the road and stamping on the accelerator before hauling it round a bus.

  A woman stood in the middle of the road. Blood streamed from her face and shoulders, and without thinking he hauled on the wheel. The car shot sideways, mounted the curb and slammed straight into the base of the Statue of Eros. His head hit the wheel and the world span and began to go black.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the woman and saw the tell-tale skin and eyes. She was a zombie. It was just a zombie. The next moment she was swamped by her greedy compatriots.

  David tried to get his seatbelt off, but his hands were thick and clumsy and the world was still spinning. His arms refused to do what he told them. He stared at the door for what felt like hours until he finally found the locking mechanism. He pushed it and heard the satisfying thunk of the car locking. Then the world went black.

  Alex - Saturday: 5 Days to Plague Day

  Lisa was pretty. Ever so slightly lopsided and with a slightly larger nose than he'd like, but pretty nonetheless. Kali, on the other hand, was beautiful. She was the colour of chocolate and had a face that was perfectly symmetrical. Her smile seemed to promise things, and despite the crisp Indian accent, they were things he thought he'd probably never even imagined. She had eyes the colour of night. He'd thought they were brown to start with, then the light had caught them and they'd glowed so dark blue they were almost black. And her body...

  Luke grabbed her arm, snarling as he dragged her towards the church.

  'There'll be clothes in there, find some and put them on.'

  Kali's eyes widened, searching Luke's face as though she would find the answer there to why he was being such a dick. Alex almost reassured her that he was always this way, but he had the feeling the two of them had known one another far longer than he had.

  They raced into the church, which was disappointingly ordinary inside, and found something for Kali to wear in a duffel bag hanging on a set of hooks. She took the robe off and dropped it on the floor, entirely unselfconscious about being naked in front of the two men. She even turned to Luke with a look that made Alex shiver and said, 'Sara sends her regards. She misses you.'

  Luke turned away and Alex, blushing red, did the same, but not before catching her eye. She gave him that smile again and he stopped turning, unable to take his eyes off her. She kept smiling, taking a long while to pull the t-shirt over her head. Even with it on, her figure was on display and his face grew hotter. She finished getting dressed slowly, not taking her eyes off his.

  Luke cleared his throat and grabbed Alex's arm. He pulled him away across the church and smiled. It wasn't his normal smile, nor the evil look he seemed to enjoy so much. This was a forced smile, dragged up from somewhere, but relucta
nt and overworked.

  'What's wrong?'

  Luke stared, eyebrows rising and then he let go and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. His face relaxed, and when he opened them, his eyes bored into Alex. 'Is that better?'

  'I don't know. You look better, sure, but--'

  'I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. Kali over there is a succubus. You'd do well to steer clear of her. She is very sexy and very beautiful and will happily ensnare you with the sole motivation of eating your soul. Your only consolation will be that the last few minutes of your life will be very pleasurable.'

  Alex grinned and Luke shook his head. 'That isn't as nice as it sounds. Trust me, someone doing anything to your soul is bad enough. Eating it is on the outer limits of what you can handle before your brain goes pop.'

  'I wasn't grinning about that, I haven't heard the word succubus in years, not since I played Dungeons and Dragons.'

  Maybe he should ask Kali whether Luke had a mental issue or something. He turned to walk over to her and Luke's hand wrapped around his wrist. 'When will you start believing? You saw what I did to those soldiers'

  'And believe you me, it was impressive. But the whole god thing and now succubus? I mean, really?'

  Luke smiled more naturally this time. 'I really will enjoy watching your face when it hits you. When you can no longer deny it, it's going to be so much fun.'

  Luke shoved his arm away and stalked across the church. Kali was clothed now, though managing to look even more alluring in a tight t-shirt and tight jeans and just tight everything. That she had no underwear on made it even worse. Alex gritted his teeth. He needed to focus on the cure, on the formulae. There were so many things he had to remember that weren't on the board. Pages of stuff he hadn't thought Luke needed to hear.

  The crazy man grabbed Kali by the arm and dragged her across the church towards the altar. She struggled for a brief moment, but something he said stilled her. Alex rushed over. Why was he being so unpleasant? He couldn't believe he was still wondering that, but Luke had just rescued her, so that had to count for something. Why rescue her and drag her about like she was worthless?