He took slow steps towards the zombies and, like he carried a really long stick, a channel opened up. The crowd spilt apart and they walked through. There was something Biblical about the parting of the crowd and Luke snickered. He’d liked writing that part. The Father hadn’t been so keen, but by the time he found out what they’d done, it was far too late. Humans had jumped on it, just like before, and the belief had taken root.
Alex was close enough that Luke could feel his breath on his neck so he wriggled his shoulders to push him back a little.
‘Take it easy. We’re fine, see.’
‘Fine means many things.’ Alex whispered. ‘Surrounded by zombies is not fine. What if it runs out?’
‘Why do you think it’s going to run out?’
‘I don’t. I just don’t like the thought that it could, alright? You’ve never had a piece of machinery go wrong on you?’
‘Well, no actually. I don’t really use it.’
‘Yeah, well, now’s your chance to discover the wonders of modern engineering.’
‘You don’t get any stronger, do you. It’s fine. Come on, let’s get to the hospital.’
He ignored the unspoken whinge and set off before Alex could vocalise it. They stomped through the streets, heading north to St Bart’s, and the zombies stayed well back for the entire journey. For the most part they were hidden in shadows or highlighted momentarily beneath a street lamp, but if he half-closed his eyes and focused on the ground ahead, it could just be a quiet evening in London.
They reached the hospital and walked in through the electric doors. They would have to plan further ahead soon. The electricity wouldn’t last for very long, assuming it lasted at all. There were power plants and they would need maintenance. When the power went, things would feel very different.
The hospital was still busy. There were zombies in beds, some growling, others prostrate and staring at the ceiling. Others staggered around the hallways in backless gowns. A zombie doctor tried to approach and got knocked back by the device. It settled for falling teeth-first onto a patient who, upon meeting the barrier, fell and snapped its hand off at the wrist. The spray of blood was hoovered up by the doctor closing its lips over the stump.
Alex groaned and stopped, resting one hand against the wall. ‘God, half a day inside that bloody cathedral and I’d forgotten how revolting these things are.’
‘I can handle revolting. Let’s get to the garage.’
His calm died when they had to pass through the children’s ward. Something rose up inside him. It felt like a cliche, but he couldn’t find a better way to describe it. It started in his stomach as a dull ache, then climbed until his heart grew hot and his lungs felt like they would burst. He kept his eyes on his feet and walked as fast as he could. The sounds encroached no matter how loud he hummed and, for the first time since the Father sent him here, he experienced something other than frustration or amusement. He didn’t like it. But no matter how he reminded himself they were just humans, he couldn’t get rid of it.
He’d missed his chance to speak with Az. Perhaps that was for the best, because having seen this, the conversation would be very different when it came. Though conversation was no longer the right word.
He let out a long breath as they stepped back into the corridor and followed the hanging signs to the garage. They were most of the way there when he noticed it. The device in his pocket that had been gently warm went cold. Just like that, as though the power had run out. He smiled. Had the Father heard the contempt in his voice when he’d scoffed at Alex earlier? Bastard.
The zombie coming towards them down the corridor wasn’t stopping.
Jackson
The guns wavered. First they pointed at him, then at David, then back at him. They were scared. Their precious doctor was in danger and they didn’t know what to do. His lip curled and he showed some teeth.
‘Put the guns down. We’re leaving. Keep pointing them at us if you want the doc to die.’
He motioned with his head and was pleased to see David spring off the bed. ‘Grab a gun.’
His hands were shaking but he approached the nearest soldier. The man’s eyes were wide, staring at Jackson, so he squeezed the doc’s throat a little tighter and the soldier handed his gun over. ‘Is the safety off?’
David shrugged, holding the gun like he was on a first date with it. Jackson glared at the soldier. ‘Is the safety off?’
The man nodded, eyes widening even more. He backed away, hands held up in defence as Jackson came closer. He shoved past the soldier, dragging the doc along with him. David came close behind and they made it to the door before the doctor got his breath back.
‘You don’t have to do this. I wasn’t saying I didn’t trust you, I was just—’
Jackson tightened his grip and choked off whatever Andre was going to say next. He’d never understand. This had nothing to do with what he’d said and everything to do with what David said. These people killed God’s children by the million. Somehow, in all the horror of the last twenty-four hours, he’d forgotten that.
He’d allowed his lust and his greed to take control of him again, just as it had when he was a child. When Mam couldn’t buy him the things he wanted, he’d bullied and stolen until he got them. And he’d never changed, not until God saved him. How had he forgotten that?
His shame brought blood rushing up his neck and he flushed red. The piece of shit in his arms wouldn’t understand that. He called himself a soldier of God, yet he disrespected him with every move he made. Every choice came from a place of arrogance. He’d forgotten his humility and so had Jackson. But not any more.
He glanced at David and smiled and tried to say some of what he was thinking with his eyes. But the man was a little mad and he wasn’t sure he understood. It didn’t matter. Jackson knew and that’s what counted.
The corridor was empty. Whatever the soldier said into the walkie talkie hadn’t been enough to bring them running. He nodded, pleased with his quick reactions. He’d need them to win this battle, against the zombies and the soldiers of God. They were both vermin, both a curse to be wiped from the face of the planet.
The cathedral was quiet and the tent peaceful.
He longed to go in there and free the women, save them from their fate. But there were too many soldiers and only one of him. The way David held that gun didn’t fill him with confidence. So it was just him. They would escape, meet the others and plan how they could return and destroy what they had found here. And rescue the women. And repopulate the Earth.
He dragged Andre across the stone until they stood beside the tent. He spun him around and shoved the barrel of his gun under his chin. ‘All that white. Be a shame to stain it with your blood. Might bring the zombie’s running though.’
Andre glared at him, gritting his teeth. ‘You can kill me. You can kill all of us. It doesn’t matter. We are pieces in a puzzle, but the picture is already formed and you cannot stop it. The world is reborn. All we are doing is caretaking the rebirth.’
‘And that’s great. I don’t think you wanna die though.’ He pushed the gun into the soft flesh hanging beneath his jaw and Andre paled. ‘So, what’s the easiest way out of here?’
‘Through the front door.’
Jackson removed the gun and replaced it with his fist. Andre dropped to one knee, raising a hand to shield himself from further blows.
‘That was stupid. One of us has a gun and the other doesn’t. Why do you want to piss me off?’
‘I don’t, I wasn’t. I mean, the easiest way is through the front door.’
‘Where a bunch of soldiers wait to take us out the minute they see us.’
‘I didn’t mean that, I didn’t, I—’
Jackson rammed his boot into the bastard’s gut and he doubled over, coughing spit onto the stone. He grabbed him by the hair and hauled him upright. ‘Don’t believe you. I’ll ask again. Best way out of here?’
The doctor was heaving, close to vomiting. And he
called himself a soldier. Jackson sniffed and glanced at David. His face was pale but he wasn’t arguing. Still holding the gun like a retard, though.
‘Well?’
‘There are the secret tunnels. There is also the service door behind the vestry.’
‘Where does that go?’
‘Straight out the back of the cathedral.’
‘Sounds good. Where is it’
Andre waved towards the back of the church and Jackson chuckled. He wrapped his arm around his throat and spun him in the right direction. ‘Lead the way.’
With a groan the doctor set off across the church. They’d gone only a few metres when soldiers emerged from the rooms in which they’d been imprisoned, appearing through the wall like ghosts. More came from behind the three of them, jogging around the tent with guns raised. With them came the man in the white robe, the Etienne guy he’d spoken to earlier.
Jackson paused, letting out a long breath as Etienne came closer, the soldiers lowering their weapons as he raised his hands. They formed a loose circle around them and a hush fell across the cathedral.
‘Jackson, what’s happened?’
‘Not much. Realised you were a bunch of wankers with nothing to do with God.’
‘We are his warriors. Have you forgotten that?’
‘You’re someone’s warriors, but not his.’
David cleared his throat. ‘You’re the warriors of your own egos. You’ve invented this whole religious thing and blamed it for being a bunch of psychos. You’ve killed the human race. How is that ever going to be God’s work?’
Etienne looked from one to the other and shook his head, frowning. ‘Well, that is a shame. I never expected to get you, but you, Jackson? I really did think we had something wonderful. That is a pity.’
He stuck out a hand and the nearest soldier handed him his weapon. ‘I’m sorry, Andre, but you are, as we all are, dispensable.’
‘My leader, please remember, without me you have no medical support. I am essential.’
Etienne looked disappointed, like a father with a misbehaving child. Jackson flinched. It brought back old, blurred memories of his father. It was the only way he could remember him ever looking.
‘Not one of us is essential and you were one of the first and most vocal in support of that. We do God’s work and every one of us lives in service to him. Your death is your service this time.’
‘But what about the test subjects, what about the ladies in waiting?’
‘I hadn’t expected such naivety from you, Andre. Do you really believe we would enter this stage of the plan without back up in every area?’
He shook his head, tutting. Jackson narrowed his eyes. The guy was close to smiling, like the whole thing was a joke. David stepped closer. ‘What do we do?’
‘We run. They’re all around us, won’t shoot till we’re in the clear.’
‘What happens when we’re in the clear?’
‘They shoot us. So run fast.’
‘Where?’
‘You know where the vestry is?’
‘Nope.’
‘I do. So—’
The gun shot was horribly loud and the bang bounced around the cathedral like a ping pong ball. Andre’s body was heavy and limp in his arms, so he threw him forwards and ran for it. The world narrowed, to the stone beneath his feet, the blood thumping in his temples, and the sound of his and David’s shoes on the cathedral floor.
‘Shoot them, shoot them.’
The soldiers hesitated, just like he knew they would. They burst free of the circle, racing straight between outstretched arms. The gun shots came a few moments later but they were already out of the light and running close to the wall. Something sharp caught him in the shoulder and he swore, stumbling.
David bumped into him and they scrambled to stay upright. The wall saved him, then David screamed and bashed against him again. Jackson grabbed him and dragged him along. They ducked across the narrow space and in behind the walls that ran down the centre of the cathedral.
For a few brief moments the firing stopped and the sound of his breathing came back loud in his ringing ears. David gasped and coughed beside him.
‘You alright?’
‘Shot, in the side. Think I’m okay.’
‘Dammit.’
Mad boy got himself shot. Still running, though, so not that bad. They raced past the altar and into the vestry, the small chapel on one side of the centre of the church. Their line took them back into the open and the guns started up again. The soldiers were running and most of the bullets went wide, but a few were close enough to throw chips of stone into his face.
He could hear Etienne screaming, exhorting them to shoot the two of them. Then they plunged into the vestry and the gun fire petered out once more. They raced between the narrow pews to the end and searched. A small wooden door was tucked in one corner and Jackson grabbed the handle. It was, in predictable fashion, locked.
He stepped back and unleashed a blast of machine gun fire into the ancient wood. It shattered and buckled and his boot broke through the rest of it. The tunnel beyond was tiny and dark and he had to bend almost double to get through. His shoulders caught on the entrance and he grunted as the skin lifted. David hustled through behind him and they burst out into a tiny courtyard surrounded by trees.
The shouts and thumps of the soldiers came through the tunnel behind them. They dashed through the trees and found a gate in the black iron railings that encircled the cathedral. This one was already open and they piled through. He slammed it shut and aimed through the railings at the entrance to the tunnel.
A flash of grey was all he needed to fire off a few rounds into the darkness. At least one shout of pain graced his ears and no one came out. He waited until David patted his shoulder.
‘We should leave. We gotta go, come on.’
He raced off towards the stone gate that stood at the perimeter of St Paul’s and Jackson sniffed. He fired another volley into the tunnel and ran. They burst out onto the street and were faced immediately by a horde of zombies. He let rip, bullets tearing arms and legs off, blood spraying across the road.
The zombies still in possession of all their limbs attacked the wounded and a free for all erupted in the street. He swallowed down bile as he watched one zombie, legs blown away by the gun fire, drag itself to the body of its prone comrade and bite deep into its face. Seconds later it was hauled off the body by two other zombies intent on chowing down on its leg stumps.
David was already stumbling up the street, spitting as he went, and Jackson followed, shaking his head. The bastards they’d just escaped would pay. This was no more God’s work than what he himself had been doing before his awakening. Strange how his rebirth had coincided with what Etienne described as a rebirth for the entire world.
It only consolidated what he already knew. God had chosen him. He had forgotten it already today, but he wouldn’t again. He caught David and raced past him.
‘Pick it up, mad boy. We’re heading for the hospital.’
Bayleigh
The part of her that still didn’t believe in zombies and angels gibbered quietly to itself as it curled up in the corner of her mind. The rest of her watched with the same feeling you get when your car goes into a spin. Her stomach lurched and her mouth dropped open as the thick cloud coalesced into something both horribly human and frighteningly other.
It was human-shaped and stared at her with human eyes, but its arms were deformed, bulging with grotesque quantities of muscle. Dirty cream coloured horns sprouted from the top of his head and ran to a point at the tips. Wings emerged from behind its shoulders, covered in feathers that reminded her of London pigeons. They might once have been white or grey but were now stained and tatty. Its face was… well, actually, his face was quite attractive. His features were even and his lips full and sensuous. He was compelling, like watching a cheetah run down a gazelle.
As the cloud flickered and faded, his arms reduced in size, as did h
is chest until she found herself blushing and trying to find somewhere to fix her eyes. He wore a pair of jeans, which was fortunate, assuming the rest of him was as pretty as the bits she could see. The wings spread and beat twice, wind the flavour of iron assailing her.
He was an angel.
Luke was an angel. He was good looking in a thin sort of a way and she’d noticed the horn stubs threatening to break through his hair. But he didn’t look the part.
This guy looked the part. He really looked the part. His mouth was set in a sneer and he looked like he’d happily tear her head off at any moment, but she still couldn’t think anything bad about him. He was just so beautiful.
Then he smiled. She shivered despite the warmth rushing to her cheeks. She could imagine his hands, sliding over her sweat-soaked body, wrapping around her and pulling her in close. Her mouth opened and she panted, a quick in and outtake of breath. Krystal grabbed her hand and gripped it hard.
She glanced down and saw that her cheeks were flushed and her hand pressed protectively over her breasts. Beside her, Ed stared at the two of them, frowning and confused. The sight of him pulled her a little way back from the brink. She swallowed and kept her eyes on him until the heat diminished and she could breathe again. She dared a look at the angel before her.
He was still there and still gorgeous. He was also coming closer. She moaned softly and flicked the tip of her tongue over her lips.
‘Welcome to St Paul’s. Do you like what we’ve done with the place?’
‘Uh, um.’
Krystal’s hand gripped harder. Bayleigh closed her eyes. She had to snap out of it. She pictured Ali dropping to the ground, hands clenched in claws, and the heat fell away. She blinked and looked at the angel. He was still beautiful, but whatever enchantment he’d used, it no longer worked. She shook herself like a dog, trying to throw off the last vestiges of her lust.
Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 5