by Richard Amos
His voice was the same. “Jake …”
The wind had been knocked out of me. I wanted to run to him and be lost in him. In those arms, everything would heal. The grief, the constant ache in my chest that hasn’t stopped since last year, all of it would fade away. Because he would be mine again, free of death and no longer out of my reach.
Except, he was.
Tears rushed from a burst dam. “It’s not you,” I said. “It isn’t you.”
“I love you, Jake. I’ve missed you so much.”
I wiped my eyes. “You’ll have to do better than that.” That hurt to say, toxic on my tongue.
I might be a dick head many times over, but I wasn’t about to fall for some beast bullshit no matter how much my heartstrings were being plucked.
“You’re dead,” I said.
Michael’s face contorted into something cruel. “I’m leaving you, junkie. Think I want to be near a man like you? Dirty junkie nobody wants to love; nobody wants to fuck.”
There was no one around me—my guardians, the people. What the hell? I had to break out of this.
“Whatever,” I said. “It’s already been said.” And they had been—those darks words spat at me on a rainy night in London.
I didn’t need to hear them again. They’d just been words.
Denial … He was leaving …
“His name’s Alan,” Michael said. “No drugs, no drama. He loves me, and I love him.”
“I love you! Don’t leave me!” I tensed at the echo of the past in my head.
The tears still fell, but they came through a filter of anger. “Keep it coming, beast. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
Michael smiled. “Alan was so handsome, wasn’t he? A lovely house too.” The shadow’s voice was back. “He should have run to Alan as fast as he could to get away from you. Look at you, dirty boy. How could he love a mess like you? You’re not worthy of love, killer. You will always be a filthy addict who cannot deal with the realities of life, so you turn to drugs and other things to make you forget.” The shadow laughed.
I took a moment to answer. “Really?”
Michael cocked his head.
“Is this how we’re gonna play things? I stand here, and you try to break me?”
“I see tears,” it said.
“Maybe, but they’re just tears.”
“Tears are the expression of the soul.”
“And you have a soul, do you, dick head?” I started walking forward. “Don’t fuck with me.” Tears still fell hot and constant. “I’m not gonna fall apart just yet.”
Michael stepped back. “How I wish you would. In time. You are no match for what is to come, for all that will be unleashed. No man can stand against the tide of beast.”
“Yet, here I am.”
“Foolish, killer.”
“Yeah? Why do you look like you’re shitting yourself, then?”
I lunged and grabbed Michael. My sparks smothered him, and he howled. His skin melted from his bones as quickly as an ice cube in hot water. His skeleton became liquid and melted into the snow, staining the white crimson.
All the while, painful sobbing took hold of me. Real or not, I’d just watched Michael’s body dissolve and that was all sorts of fucked up.
Needaline!
“Jake! Answer us, for God’s sake!” Greg was right in my face, shaking me. “Jake!”
I blinked. “Greg? I-I’m …”
“Babe?” Nay said from my right.
Greg got up close like an optician. “You all right in there, mate?”
“I’m …”
The shadow laughed. It was still hovering above.
“Fuck off!” I yelled past Greg. “Or come down here and fight me!”
I caught the white eye guy staring at me. He shook his head but said nothing. The people were still standing around, panting and still and creepy as hell. What was the shadow doing to them?
“Come on!” I shouted. “What you waiting for?”
“So much fun,” the shadow said.
A man close to the white eye guy staggered forward, grabbing him by surprise. The man groaned and hissed and closed his teeth on the white eye guy’s neck. He shook his head like a dog, and the white eye guy roared.
The other people groaned and started shuffling, some quicker than others.
“Enjoy,” the shadow said and twirled off into the sky.
“What the fuck?” Greg said.
The white eye guy used his magic to get the man off him, the civilian flying through the air and landing hard in the snow. Blood gushed from the white eye guy’s wound.
A woman came at me, arms outstretched. I ducked out of her way as Nay cracked her in the face.
“Run, idiots!” the white eye guy boomed. He ran back the way he’d come down Baby Rainbow.
Groans of hunger, drool dribbling down chins, teeth exposed and mad crimson in their eyes—the people were slaves to a zombie desire. That’s what they were; living zombies.
Bollocking hell!
Greg took down three people at once. They may be slow, but they came together, trudging along to swarm and bite. And, man, did they look real hungry. I didn’t know the zombie rules in real life—apart from run like hell.
It became an exercise of ducking and diving, batting off grabbing hands. Jesus! A big guy took me down into the sea of white. I wiggled free of his grip as he chewed my coat, punching him in the face several times until he let go. He pawed at me so I punched him again. Blood and teeth sprayed. The poor bloke hadn’t deserved that. He was innocent. Still, he wanted to eat me, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
The shadows were so gonna pay for this shit.
A small child burst from the depths of the snow, covered in white and lunging for flesh. I managed to avoid him, circling before he could get close.
“We need shelter,” I said.
The parked cars burst to life, their lights flashing in desperate warning, the sound of their alarms high-pitched wails.
What the hell?
Chapter Seventeen
“Shit!” Dean exclaimed.
At his words, a red car just ahead of us levitated into the air.
Oh, bollocks!
The car paused, twirling as if in the hand of a crazed puppet master. It took aim, front first, fog lights coming to life.
“Get out of the way!” Nay screamed.
The car drew back, a stone ready in a slingshot.
I was glued to the spot, unable to take my eyes away from the spectacle. Greg crashed into me as the car was released. We went down hard as the vehicle struck where I’d just been standing. Two women and a man were cut down as it rolled through the snow, spraying it everywhere as if it were a plough. It smacked into another car and rattled to a halt.
“Jake …” Dean was standing above me. “What the hell was that?”
“Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” he said, offering me his hand.
I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.
“Everyone okay?” I asked.
“Yep,” Greg said, dusting off snow.
Dean nodded and so did Nay.
“Those poor people. Shit!”
Another car, blue, lifted in the air, horn blasting.
Bollocks!
“RUN!” Dean yelled.
I didn’t need telling twice. I surged forward as fast as I could, the snow working against me.
I heard Nay call out and then Dean crashed into me, sending me on my back, landing on top of me as the vehicle roared over our heads. What the fuck was this—rugby? Dean was propped up by his hands. I could feel his breath on my lips, heavy and panting. He was close, too close, the lower halves of our bodies touching, the condensation from Dean’s breath a white fog appearing and disappearing right before my eyes.
“My turn to protect you,” Dean said.
Was it a competition?
“Are you guys okay?” Nay asked from somewhere to my lef
t.
Dean leapt to his feet with athletic grace. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”
I got to my feet.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “That was another close call.”
“I’m sick of being target practice,” I said.
The shadow was having a great time of things, though. A silver car lifted in to the air.
“Crap!” Nay cried.
The red car caught fire with a loud pop and was quickly engulfed in flames. It cast a flickering orange on the surface of the snow, almost cheery if it wasn’t so bleedin’ terrifying. With a shudder, the silver car dropped back down. Its windows shattered on impact, but it wasn’t done yet. It rattled, lifting slowly once more.
I shot a look behind me. We had to get into the amusement arcade—it was the closest place of shelter. “Come on!”
I took point, bounding for the building.
Fog lights lit up the ground before me. I didn’t look back, but the car had taken aim.
Greg rushed past in a burst of speed, hurtling himself at the glass door. Miraculously, the door swung open, and the glass didn’t break.
Me and Nay rushed into the arcade right behind him, Dean shoving us on. We didn’t stop, heading away from the window and to the back.
I ran past grabbing machines, ones I had played on with Dean in that whole blue teddy bear incident, past arcade games lighting up brightly in a bid to attract gamers. There was a family groaning at me. At least, I think that’s what they were. There were three kids and two adults. I didn’t have time to take them in. I darted through the back staff area just as the car ripped through the building in a symphony of shattering glass and a boom. The shockwaves sent me flying forward. I smacked into a wall, ricocheted, and landed on my back. Bloody hell! My vision blurred, and my ears rang with a sonic scream.
I could smell the toxic stench of fuel.
“Greg? Nay? Dean?”
They all made themselves known from nearby—it was a sweet sound in shit circumstances.
I sat up, blinking to clear my vision. Thirty seconds passed, and the healing magic kicked in. My vision was clear again, and my ears stopped ringing.
This back part of the building was a staff area with rotas on the walls and a desk covered in paperwork. There was another door farther at the end of the room and a staircase to my left. The car had burst through the wall, blocking off the front of the arcade. A tire crushed the chest of the man who’d been part of that family. He clawed at the ground and moaned at me. Fuel was gushing from the car, pooling on the floor, drenching the clothes of the man.
“Shit!” I scrambled to my feet.
I looked around for something to use, anything to get the man free. But I knew, with reluctance, there was no way he could still be alive despite the sounds and movements. He was a true zombie now, dangling on the edge of oblivion.
“Jake!” Dean was at my back.
“Oh, no,” Nay said.
The car started to tremble, and the engine caught alight. Flames quickly met the petrol, giving life to an aggressive blaze. The man was quickly consumed by fire.
“NO!” I yelled.
The man’s black hair singed away, and the skin on his arms bubbled and blistered in the intense inferno. The flames took hold of the walls, dancing their way up to the ceiling.
“Get away from there!” It was Dean. He grabbed my arm. “Come on!”
The door at the far end of the room crashed open. I spun to see Greg had smashed it down.
The fire spat behind me. Another explosion was coming.
I ran with Dean and Nay out the destroyed back door. We ran down a small alley and across the road behind Rainbow Mile, putting as much distance between us and the arcade as we could. Mystique Square was just up ahead.
I threw a look over my shoulder just as the arcade went up in smoke and flames, fire clawing at the sky.
The boom was so intense that I was thrown forward, landing face-first into the snow. Quickly, I came up for air and spat out the cold flakes.
The arcade and some of the neighboring buildings had either been taken with it, or were in flames.
Oh, my God!
My friends sat down beside me as I willed my heart to slow down. Nay had a graze on her head to go with her kitty scratches, Dean’s black coat was torn down the front, and Greg looked really pissed off.
“You all okay?” I said.
Greg grunted.
“Yeah,” Nay said. “Head is banging, though.”
Dean nodded. “Coat not too good.”
“What happened, Nay?”
“Cracked my head on the door handle,” Nay added. “Lucky I didn’t go all Humpy Dumpty with it.”
I leaned close, taking a look at her wound. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I’m fine. We shouldn’t linger here.” I got to my feet.
The snow was falling again, relentless in its desire to smother the world.
Chapter Eighteen
We ran through Mystique Square, dodging a few sort-of zombies to get to Nay’s candle shop—Scentsational.
It was locked up, so Nay pulled out her keys and lifted the shutters.
“Ummmgrrrhhh …”
Greg was on a man who wanted a bite, delivering a nasty uppercut. The man’s jaw broke, and he went on his back, engulfed by snow.
If only we could go easy on them. But it would be go easy and get bitten, and who knew what that would lead to.
What a messed up paradox—hurt the ones you’re supposed to protect.
“Inside,” Nay said.
Once in, she slammed the shutters down and locked them. Three sort-of zombies arrived and started banging on the black metal, groaning away for flesh.
“How long before they break their way through?” I asked.
“Will be a long time. That’s magically reinforced steel right there—more durable than your regular shutter.”
“So, they won’t get through?”
“Oh, they will eventually as they attract more of their friends to the party. Just, you know, delays them more.”
“Delay is good.”
Nay went and put the heating on, disappearing into a doorway behind the wooden cash desk as I took in my surroundings. It was a treasure trove of candles and smelled beautiful. It was a very rustic place, exposed yet varnished floorboards with nothing modern about any of its decor, but that added to its charms. There was something very old world about it, a place that could have once sat perfectly well down an east London street way back in the day.
Naomi came back into the main shop, a plaster now covering her head wound. “Should warm up in about five minutes,” she said.
Okay, so the central heating was modern.
“Thank God Greta wasn’t in today!” she said. “Though she’s probably out there somewhere.” She shook her head. “I hope she’s okay.”
There was nothing that could be said, and I wasn’t gonna say I’m sure Greta was okay because she was probably a zombie by now. I wasn’t in the mood for telling sweet lies, and Nay wouldn’t want to hear it.
“What happened to you back there, Jake? Before it all went crazy?” Dean asked. “You were just standing there, bawling your eyes out.”
I drew a deep breath and explained the whole thing that’d happened with not-Michael.
“Oh, God,” Nay said. “That’s messed up.”
I nodded.
“That must’ve taken a lot to fight that, mate,” Greg said.
“I’m not breaking yet.”
“Good to hear,” Nay said. “Come on, guys. Let’s head upstairs.
At the top of a wooden staircase was a studio flat—Nay’s home before life changed and she’d moved into the mansion. It was all blue, apart from the wooden floor, which still had a fluffy blue rug on it. There was a bed and a sofa, a wardrobe and kitchen in the same room and a bathroom. It was tiny, but so cozy. I took a pew on the sofa, scooping up a glittery blue cushion and hugging it to
me.
Nay opened the curtains behind me a tiny bit, just enough so we had a view of Mystique Square below. Good plan.
Speaking of plans, we were stuck in there without one. What the hell were we gonna do now?
“So where do we even begin?” I said. I noticed some Dylan Rivers vinyl on the one bookshelf that held books, CDs, DVDs and vinyl. She also had a white dresser with fairy lights wrapped around the mirror. They were off, but I had money on them being some shade of blue.
“Yeah,” Nay said, “coming up with a plan will be tricky on this one.” She peered out the window. I joined her. A couple of sort-of zombies navigated the snow awkwardly to come and join the shutter-bangers. No horde yet, then.
Despite the perfume that filled the air everywhere in the building, I could still smell the burning of the arcade. The smoke rose above the square, thick and as black as the shadow twins. I gnawed my bottom lip. That wasn’t them was it, joining together to be a bigger version of themselves? I waited to see red eyes in the smoke, but it was smoke, not shadow.
The snow was still falling.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Not like we can just hunt them down because they float all over the place. I did think about the beach houses, but Purple wouldn’t be stupid enough to return there after we discovered her little hideout.”
“No,” Dean said. “They’re somewhere safe while one of the shadows works on Lilisian, and this one brings the shit storm. You heard what it said.”
“Is there anything we can use?”
Nay’s phone rang. “Karla,” she said. “Hi. Yes. We’re fine, at my flat.” She explained the car incident. “No, really. We’re fine. No, we don’t. Don’t know how to get out of this one. Okay. Thanks. Bye, Karla.”
“What did she say?” Greg asked from the bed.
“She wants us to hold tight while she checks the runes and speaks to Floyd.”
The runes were all over the city and helped trace beast activity. Floyd … maybe he could help, as much as I loathed him.
“You think the shadows will be picked up by the runes?” I asked. “We’re not dealing with regular beasts here.”