‘Them?’
‘Just in case there’s more than one, you know?’
The poker in her hand shook like she was wobbling it back and forth.
‘Hey, take it easy, it’s fine.’ He said. ‘We just smash their heads in as they come up the stairs.’
‘Oh, just like that? Easy then.’ She turned away, putting her hand over her mouth. He was about to give her a speech about being ready for the new world when she turned back. Her lips were pressed in a straight line and she nodded. ‘Go on then.’
He undid the padlock and took it out, placing it to one side. The trapdoor opened silently and she pointed the torch down into the darkness. It illuminated a set of steps and, at the bottom, a stone floor. And nothing else. Tanya groaned, hand back over her mouth. Alex shook his head. Why was nothing simple?
He took the first step down and peered around. Still nothing. No sign of what had made the growling sounds. He took another couple of steps and crouched, trying to see the rest of the room between the rungs. Tanya passed him the torch and he bent over to inspect the rest of the cellar.
The beam swept over empty space, then caught the glint of an eye. Alex stared straight at the zombie, heart in his mouth, and realised it was a child. His fear was momentarily overridden by his anger and disgust. Then another appeared right before him and its hand shot through the rungs. It caught him in the face and, though the blow wasn’t that hard, he was already off-balance.
The torch tumbled down the steps and he went straight after it. He caught his head on the next step as his body flipped over and smashed onto the steps on his back. Agony flared from his tail bone right up to his skull and he moaned. The torch smashed as it hit the floor, and he stared into darkness.
Tanya’s scream overpowered whatever sound the children made, but hands wrapped around his legs and he knew he had moments before the teeth sunk in. Despite the light still shining in from the lounge, his vision was darkening and he blinked furiously as he lashed out with both feet.
His heel caught something that grunted and the hand let go of his feet. Alex tried to sit up and slipped, bumping down the rest of the way into the cellar. Tanya screamed again, which was nice but entirely useless at this point in time. Alex still had hold of the poker and now he swung it in a wide arc, the tip vanishing into the darkness.
It didn’t hit anything until it caught the side of the steps and jarred his arm. He barely clung to it as pins and needles ran up to his shoulder. He pushed away from the steps and stood, peering around him into the darkness. Why weren’t they attacking? It was like they were hiding, waiting for him to make a mistake. They were zombies, he’d seen them, but somehow they were smarter than the others.
Was it something to do with being children? Or was it because the sick bastard who’d kept them locked up down here had bred cunning into them. Did they think, somewhere in their disintegrating brains, that Alex was their captor?
He grabbed hold of the stairs and started to climb. His breath was coming in short bursts and his vision was still blurry. A lump was already forming on the back of his head, thumping in time with his heart. The hand came again and he lashed his leg around until it let go. Another hand, from the other side of the steps, dug its nails into his knee cap and he swore.
‘Alex, come on.’
She stood at the top of the steps, reaching down with one hand, and he stretched up towards it. The nails raked the skin off his knee and tore open his trousers and he jerked his leg away. He slipped and his other foot came off the step and thumped onto the one below. A jolt of pain shot straight up his back and knocked the air from his lungs.
He teetered and pinwheeled his arms until his balance returned. He swung again with the poker and hit nothing. His breath was coming back but he was panting. He couldn’t think. He was going to die, he was going to be eaten by children. It was almost funny. But he was only a child himself, really. He’d never seen the world or done half the things he wanted to do. For the briefest of moments he was reminded of when Lisa had sent the text saying she was pregnant.
How ludicrous that he would even contemplate comparing the two scenarios. How ridiculous that at the time it had felt like his life was ending. A hand clutched his leg and he slammed the poker down where the arm should be. It connected this time, and he grinned tightly when it smashed straight through the arm.
He swung again and hit something larger, so he kept swinging. From the other child in the cellar came a wailing, a keening sound like nothing he’d ever heard. He imagined it was what a mother would sound like at the bedside of her dying child and it brought goosebumps up all along his arm.
‘Tanya, is there a lamp or anything.’
She was snuffling, staring down at him with wide eyes, and he wanted to hit her.
‘NOW!’
She disappeared and he stopped hitting. The wailing had ceased and the silence was somehow worse. He jabbed with the poker and felt it sink in. He’d killed the first one. He’d just beaten a child to death. His stomach flipped and he scrubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand.
Tanya reappeared at the top of the steps, hauling along what looked like a tall standing lamp. ‘Is this any good?’
‘Switch it on and lower it down here, quickly.’
The bulb lit up and she turned it upside down, lowering it by the base until it bumped against the stairs half way down. The light showed him the rest of the cellar and the space where he’d seen the first child. There was nothing there. He turned and stared at the bloody mess at his feet. Just beyond it stood the other child. The sweat that was cooling on his back rushed to his head and ran down from his hair.
The child glared at him and, in its eyes, he saw something like intelligence. Then it leapt.
Bayleigh
She tried not to shiver as the rain beat her into submission. Her hair lay about her face in sopping strands. It was supposed to be tied up but the pursuit had torn it loose. She pulled the band out, dragging on the wet hair and hissing as it pulled some out by the roots. She gathered it together and squeezed, as though wringing it out would make any difference. Then she tied it up again and peered into the darkness.
Krystal and Luke were there somewhere. She saw a glint from the barrel of a gun as it moved into the light. The soldier came behind it, creeping into the pool spread by the spotlight, gun aimed straight at her. She froze, holding her breath. The gun and soldier moved on, and she let out the breath.
It seemed horribly loud in the car park and the soldier must have heard, because he turned back to face her. Then something happened. Bayleigh had no idea what, but the soldier’s face changed, screwing up as though he was about to cry. The gun fell from his hands and he dropped to his knees. He looked up as though he was praying to god and held his hands above him.
His strangled voice came across the car park. ‘No, daddy, no, please.’
She turned away, swallowing. She’d never heard anyone sound like that. He wept and she put her hands over her ears. She looked back and saw Luke step out into the light. He stood for a moment, looking down at the soldier, and although he was some distance away, she imagined she could see a smile on his face.
Then his boot struck the soldier beneath the chin and the man flipped over, trapping his legs beneath him. His weeping became a scream and she winced. Luke grabbed the gun from him and disappeared back into the darkness. Bayleigh crept forwards, moving along the row of garages that lay in shadow.
She saw two shapes side by side and recognised Krystal’s bob. She needed to say something. She could imagine Luke turning around, wearing the same smile, and shooting her. Krystal had her sword out and Bayleigh shuddered again. They stood in the same posture, balanced and ready. She didn’t want to see them like this.
‘Hey.’ She hissed as quietly as she could. They spun round, weapons rising. She held her hands up. ‘It’s me.’
‘Shh.’
Krystal put her finger to her lips and they changed, becoming Krystal and Luke agai
n instead of the scary militant types they’d been seconds earlier. She took a deep breath and looked at her hands. They shook and she snorted at herself. It was just because it was dark, and the storm was doing her head in, and there were soldiers with guns waiting to kill them. That’s all it was.
The other soldier had his gun raised, stepping closer.
‘Jack?’
They tiptoed away and moved apart. The soldier came closer and appeared beneath the spot light. Luke’s voice traveled through the darkness, softened by the rain but still perfectly audible. ‘What’s your worst nightmare?’
That was what had happened to the last soldier. This one reacted very differently. His eyes opened wide and he stared around himself. He waved his hands around his head, gun swinging from his shoulders. Luke was nodding, hands on hips and lips spread into the slightest of grins. He was smiling as the soldier went through Hell.
Bayleigh shook her head and focused on the soldier. His actions were becoming increasingly frantic and, before any of them could stop him, he grabbed the gun off his shoulder, put the barrel beneath his chin and pulled the trigger. The blood and brains that exploded from the top of his head were shockingly bright beneath the lights.
The body thudded to the floor and Bayleigh clapped her hand over her mouth. What had he done? The gun clattered on the tarmac. She couldn’t take her eyes off the hole in his head and the blood running down his scalp. Luke took Krystal’s arm and led her down the side of the garages. Bayleigh followed, barely aware of the rain or the other two soldiers shimmying down the fire escape.
Luke stopped them in the corner and turned back to the soldiers.
‘Wait here.’
He sneaked towards the two men now gathered around the body of their comrade. Bayleigh glanced sideways at Krystal and she looked back at her. In the darkness they shared their distress, but then Luke spoke and anything Bayleigh might have said vanished.
‘Your friend killed himself because I showed him his worst fear. Your other friend has at least one broken leg. My advice would be to pick him up and get him back to wherever you call home. We won’t join you and we won’t help you. Come at us again and I will end all of you.’
He didn’t ask if they understood, or wait for a response. He turned and stole back through the darkness towards them and once again the look in his eyes made Bayleigh shudder. He stalked between them to the alley leading out of the car park. Bayleigh glanced at Krystal again, but her eyes were on Luke, and the horror seemed to have left her.
Bayleigh looked back at the soldiers. They were still standing above the body of their comrade. She couldn’t decide whether they were arguing about something or trying to come to terms with what had just happened. The two of them standing beneath the light, body between them as the rain came down, was the last image she had as she slipped into the alleyway.
It brought them out to where Krystal had first met the soldiers and they made their way across the street towards the truck. Whatever weird vibes Luke was giving out worked on the zombies as well, because they were ignored all the way there.
The three of them got Krystal’s bike and hauled it up onto the back of the artic. They wedged it in as best they could and climbed up. Bayleigh started the engine and let out a breath.
‘Everyone ready?’
Luke nodded, but Krystal shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if he’s still alive, we need to cut Etienne down.’
Bayleigh’s eyes widened. ‘You’re bloody kidding me.’
‘I’m not. I just… they were saying how they were better than the robes and that we should trust them and they’ve got the guy they said was their leader strung up as zombie food. Aren’t we supposed to be better than that?’
Luke stared straight forward, teeth clenched, but Bayleigh found herself nodding. She thumped the steering wheel and gave Krystal a nod. ‘Well said. It won’t take long.’
‘No.’ Luke shook his head. ‘No. We have people to take care of and they have to come first. He had it coming.’
Bayleigh shook her finger and opened her mouth, but Krystal got their first. ‘Come on, it’ll take all of twenty minutes. Isn’t it the right thing to do?’
‘I don’t care. It sounds like a just punishment for what he did.’
‘He’s going to die. I mean, if he isn’t already dead. Isn’t that punishment enough?’
Luke shook his head slowly and Bayleigh broke in. ‘I’m sorry, Luke, but you’re outvoted.’
She put the cab in first and pulled it slowly around. It took a couple of attempts to turn it fully and throughout the manoeuvre, she waited with shoulders high for Luke to say something. His silence was somehow worse than an argument, but she’d settle for it.
She didn’t want to argue with him. Sometime in the last couple of days, she’d stopped seeing him as this strange, distant figure. He was still an angel, she only had to look at him to see that. But he was something else as well. Someone she couldn’t help be drawn to. Seeing his smile when the soldiers were suffering had shocked her and made her remember who he’d once been. But it hadn’t made her any less intrigued by him. What that said about her she didn’t want to think about.
She took them out of Soho and onto Fleet Street. It took eight minutes as they weaved through the traffic. The rain was beginning to ease off a little, though the wipers remained on crazy speed. She slowed the truck and peered ahead as the dark shape of St Paul’s appeared through the storm.
She saw no one in the headlights that played across the front of the cathedral. She drove slowly past, trying to keep the revving of the engine to a minimum.
Etienne was still there. He hung from the cross by his shoulders and ankles, hands hanging down. His hands were missing, as were his toes. One of his trousers had been torn open and chunks taken from his knee and leg. One of the zombies was either a jumper or taller than the rest.
The crowd was still gathered below him, growling and reaching up. She couldn’t see whether he was still alive but it didn’t matter.
‘Luke, can you shoot him?’
Luke glared at her, but nodded reluctantly. She pulled the van sideways and Krystal wound down the window. Bayleigh put her hands over her ears and peered over Luke’s shoulder as he set the gun in the crook of his arm. Despite the protection, her ears still rang in protest when he fired. The body on the cross shook and blood rained onto the pack below, setting them growling even louder. He kept firing until there was no question of Etienne being dead.
Krystal shifted in her seat and drew her sword. ‘Can you get a bit nearer?’
Bayleigh nudged closer to the zombies. They were still fixated on the body that rained blood, and didn’t even notice when Krystal leant from the cab window and slashed the ropes holding the cross to the fence and street lamp. It slammed down onto the pack and they fell on it.
‘Right, now back up and run those bastards over.’ Krystal’s voice caught as she spoke. Bayleigh reversed until the cab banged into the car behind. Then she put it in first and put her foot down. The cab tore the zombies apart or crushed them beneath the wheels. She felt the slightest bump as they went over the cross.
Then she turned and took them back along Fleet Street. She was about to turn right when Luke put a hand on her arm. ‘Hold on.’
She eased on the brakes and pulled over.
‘We should get the food.’ He said it quietly and she only just stifled a laugh. She gazed longingly northwards, towards the country she couldn’t see but knew was there.
She rubbed her face and nodded. ‘We’ve got lots of people to feed.’
‘Oh hey,’ Krystal said, ‘we could stick a trailer on the back. There were loads at the warehouse.’
Now Bayleigh did laugh, not oblivious to the note of hysteria in her voice. ‘There’s no way I could drive an entire truck.’
‘Oh come on, there’s no other traffic. As long as we don’t tip over, you’ll be fine.’
Bayleigh snorted. Luke patted both thei
r knees in a gesture that balanced precariously between comforting and deeply condescending. ‘Let’s just get there first, alright?’
They guided her down through London and into the warehouse complex. The place was a vast grey blot on the landscape and the moment she pulled into the enormous carpark behind it, she shook her head. The back of the warehouse was filled with truck sized doors and parked at each was a lorry, the same size as the one she drove, only with a colossal trailer attached to the back.
You had to get a special license to drive those things and after wrestling with their one around London, she knew why. It wasn’t just a case of putting it in gear and driving it away.
Then again, there was no one to tell her off if something went wrong. Her mouth curled up at the edges.
They parked beside one of the trucks and clambered from the cab. They took a peek inside the first truck and shared huge smiles at what lay within. The truck was filled with food, stacked on pallets running the entire length of the trailer.
Attached to the back of the lorry was a tiny forklift truck that was almost more exciting than the truck itself. She took a look around. She’d have to reverse to get out of the car park, but once she’d done that, Krystal was right. Slow and easy going all the way out of London should be fine.
Luke appeared from around the side of the lorry and shook his head. ‘No keys.’
‘They’ll be inside somewhere, won’t they?’
He and Krystal shared a look.
‘What?’
‘Not the most fun last time we were here.’ Krystal moaned. ‘Luke found us some druggies.’
‘Druggies?’
‘Some of the zombies found some coke. Or maybe they were already on the coke when they died. Dunno. Anyway, they were fast.’
Bayleigh blinked as something shot across the car park behind Krystal. She leant forward, brow creasing as she peered between the two trucks. Krystal tapped her arm. ‘Um, hello?’
‘Sorry, thought I saw something.’
‘Right, yeah, they weren’t much fun. Not sure I wanna go back in there.’
Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 12