He pushed open the door and the storm hit him in the face like a fist, stealing the breath from his lungs. The rain was cold and drove into his eyes. The zombies rose from their meagre meals as he appeared and he waited for the mist. It came rushing like the storm as he stepped from the building.
There were three of them, all rising with the same murderous intent. Dave stepped to the nearest, brushed aside the clinging claws and grabbed the top of its head. With a roar he wrenched the head from side to side. He heard a crunch almost immediately and kept twisting and yanking. With a sound like tearing cloth, the head ripped free and the body dropped to the ground.
He watched himself again, from a short distance above his head, and observed with next to no emotion. He wondered what he’d feel if one of the zombies killed him. Would there be any regret or sadness before he faded away? It didn’t feel at that moment like there would.
He winced as his body, driven by Az, shoved a hand deep into the skull. He yanked out the mash of brains and veins and blood, and stuck his hand back in. He went for the next zombie, brandishing the skull like a gauntlet. He punched the zombie in the face and heard the crack.
He brought his arm back and swung it around in a wide circle, smashing the hard part at the back of the skull into the side of the creature’s face. It crumpled, fragments of skin and bone cracking away and hitting the floor. The brain beneath, he tore out with his left hand, and stepped over the corpse before it hit the floor.
The last zombie grabbed his shirt with one hand and pulled. Dave stumbled, foot catching on the corpse beneath him, but stayed on his feet.
He used the skull to break the creature’s arm off at the wrist then bash its face in. He came back to himself kneeling on the zombie’s legs, skull rising and falling into the bloody mess before him. He threw the skull as far as he could, gorge rising, and staggered away from the bodies.
The rain had made the pile of zombies mushy and a stream of blood and body parts trailed down the gutter that ran into the centre of the courtyard. The smell was damped by the storm but not gone entirely and the whiffs he got made his stomach churn. He held his hands out beneath the rain until the brains and blood were washed away, then went back into reception. The ladies stared at him, wide eyed, and he smiled at them.
It didn’t work this time, not how it had before. They looked scared and tired and he wondered whether they had any idea what he’d been through.
‘We’ll leave now.’
‘But it’s raining.’
‘It is, but it’s not nearly as bad as staying here and dealing with Jackson. The devil is speaking to him as well and he’s considerably stronger than I am.’
The ladies nodded but grumbled as he led them to the door. He pushed it open and chivvied them through and out into the rain. He came round to walk beside them and stared. The rain had slicked their tops to their skin and the red of their bellies showed through, pulsing beneath the white lights hung around the entrance.
His children were in those bellies and they wanted out. He could feel them, calling to him. He placed a hand on the belly nearest to him and the lady jumped beneath his touch. He smiled at her and felt the same energy he’d had upstairs. The lady smiled back at him, pushing the bump against his hand. Something moved inside and the lady grunted and stumbled. Dave supported her, and led her past the pile of bodies and out of the courtyard.
There were two more zombies between the Shard and the street, and both times Dave dealt with them as efficiently as he could. He still had no idea how to get them back to the theatre. The storm showed no signs of abating and the roads were running with rivers that carried dirt and rubbish past them where they stood on the pavement.
He needed a car. He approached the nearest and peered through the windows. Empty. He and his helper lowered the others as gently as possible into the back seat. He strapped himself in and pulled away from the curb. It was slow going, winding their way across the city. It was made slower still by the incessant cries and groans of the ladies, closer to giving birth than he liked.
They were halfway over Waterloo Bridge when one of the women screamed, the sound pure and high and cutting straight through his head. He stamped on the brakes and turned to ask her to shut up, when he saw her companion’s face. She was white, completely bloodless, and her mouth was open in a soundless wail.
The screaming lady tailed off and shifted in her seat. Blood dripped from it onto the floor and Dave swallowed hard, trying not to breath. His helper had turned as well and gasped. ‘She’s giving birth now, right now.’
Dave undid his seat belt and twisted round to kneel up on the seat. The lady had doubled over and wrapped her arms around herself, like she was trying to hide her bump from them.
‘What do we do?’
‘I don’t know. I guess we just have to support their birthing.’
‘How the hell do we do that?’
‘Hold their hand, tell them to breathe?’
‘Why are you here? You aren’t any bloody use.’
‘I need, I need…’ The lady giving birth twisted and turned in her seat.
‘What do you need?’
‘I need… to kneel up.’ She spun halfway around and got stuck between the seats. The other woman was struggling to move at all, mouth still open and twisted in pain. Dave scrambled out and opened the side door. He heaved the lady out of the car and onto the bridge. Lightning flashed across the sky and lit up the zombies that were scattered across the road.
Only a few had seen them but were already making their way across. Dave groaned and turned back to the lady. He helped her kneel on all fours and turned away. He was too late, though, to miss the blood that came streaming from beneath her skirt. His helper came round and knelt beside her, taking her hand and rubbing her back. For all the good that was going to do.
The lady screamed again and Dave swore as more zombie heads perked up and turned their way. Thunder ran roughshod over London and the zombies dropped to their faces. For a moment Dave felt like a messiah, being bowed to by his many worshippers. Then the thunder ended and he felt the weight as several hungry pairs of eyes fell on him. He wasn’t sure it felt all that different.
The lady arched her back like a cat stretching after a long sleep and her next scream came out as a wail that was swallowed by the storm. Another gout of blood splashed to the concrete. Dave turned away, not trusting himself to keep watching without being sick.
He focused on the zombies as they closed in. He didn’t want the mist to come down. The moment the babies were born he could bundle them and their mothers into the car and get away. He needed to be present and aware. But what he wanted didn’t matter. He had babies to protect.
He leapt at the first zombie and drove his fingers into its neck. The blow bit through its soft skin and drove straight through its windpipe. It reacted by swinging its arm, club-like through the air, and clouting him around the side of the head. He staggered to one side, fingers tearing free of the skin accompanied by a spurt of blood.
He slipped on the wet road and dropped to one knee. He saw past the zombie’s leg to where his charge knelt on all fours. Her skirt was around her waist and something was coming out of her, something red and grotesque that made his skin crawl. Then something else took over, something he couldn’t put a name to. It took only a second to recognise love.
The zombie reached for him and he grabbed its wrists, then planted his foot in its chest. Holding tight, he shoved with his foot. The arms tore away at the sockets and the zombie fell over on top of him. He let it come and drove his forehead into its nose as it landed.
Blood exploded over his face and he pressed his lips together to stop it flooding his mouth. He twisted, shifting the snapping zombie off him and onto the bridge. It thudded beside him, flapping about to get closer and take a chunk out of his shoulder. He rose to his knees, sat back on his haunches, and went to work with the arms he still clutched in both hands.
He beat it around the head until the b
ones at the end of the arms were white and exposed in the rain. Then he smashed those bones into its face until it stopped moving. He dropped the arms and rose to his feet. There were more zombies coming, but his eyes returned to the lady.
She wasn’t screaming any more. Her head hung down, sopping wet hair covering her face. The blood around her was so thick the rain was doing little to wash it away. And the baby was almost here. The mist was still there but he felt it change, felt the blood haze leave him and something else take over. He raced across and fell on his knees.
The baby slipped from her and fell into his arms. It was covered in thin, red fur and stared up at him with strange, slitted eyes. It was far larger than a new born baby had any right to be and it lay in his arms, still and peaceful. The rain washed the blood from his face, rain that mingled with his tears.
Then the baby opened its mouth and its scream filled the London night.
Bayleigh
‘We’re going back for her.’ Bayleigh said.
Luke nodded, but refused to meet her eyes. Alex shook his head, lips pressed flat. ‘We can’t. Luke knows we can’t.’
‘I don’t care what either of you knows. We’re going back.’
Bayleigh got the truck moving and had it half turned before Luke put his hands on her arm. ‘Stop. Not all of us.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Alex, take the truck and head out on the A40. You’ve got the satnav, you know where you’re going. You can text us once you’ve found somewhere. Bayleigh, you and I will take the artic and head back. It’ll be easier with that, anyway.’
Bayleigh nodded. He was seeing sense. Of course, he had a very good reason to go back for her, but they’d left two of them behind already, so he could just as easily have shrugged and gone on. She glanced at him as he climbed down. She wasn’t sure that was true anymore. He’d changed, again, and for the better.
Her hands shook as she climbed out. She couldn’t stop picturing Krystal, huddled in a corner as the zombies closed in. She was strong and knew how to fight, but she’d only been doing it a week. Who knew what would happen when she discovered she was truly alone.
She clambered up into the huge cab, marveling at how high up they were.
‘You can drive.’ Luke said as he climbed up after her.
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Don’t you want to?’
‘I know your style is interesting, but I still feel more comfortable with you behind the wheel.’
‘That’s so kind. What does interesting mean?’
He gave her a sheepish grin and she put her foot down. The artic lurched away and smashed straight through the barrier as she turned and headed down the hill. She wasn’t worried about hitting other cars now and took great pleasure in smashing them out the way as they descended.
The trip back seemed far quicker and maybe it was due to the lack of ladies in the back. She could handle responsibility, but having all of them crammed in had made even the slightest corner nerve wracking. One wrong move and she could have killed them all.
She retraced their route as best she could, but it was so difficult to see anything through the storm. They could have driven past Krystal’s corpse a hundred times and not spotted her.
Her stomach filled with a heavy ball that threatened to stop her altogether. She’d done her best to keep watch, but with the rain battering down and the huge truck to keep control of, she could have missed Krystal even if she’d been standing by the road with a big sign in her hands.
‘Where is she?’
Luke shrugged and she bit her lip before bursting out. ‘What do you mean? You’re the bloody Devil, can’t you just find her?’
‘I can’t, not anymore. Bay, I’m sorry, but it’s just about looking with our eyes now.’
‘Looking with your eyes, unless you fancy driving this.’
He didn’t reply. Instead he leant forward, resting his head on his clenched fist and staring out into the night. After another minute during which she barely restrained herself from screaming, Luke glanced across. ‘You know she’s fine, don’t you? I’d know if she was dead. And she can take care of herself.’
‘I know she can, I’m just…’ What was she? She was frightened. She didn’t mind admitting it to herself. She’d exchanged one cared-for person for another, and this one she’d got to choose. Sort of.
She wanted to care for Ed as well and would have with or without the plague. They had been ejected from normal society and she could understand that, up to a point. She’d never had it like them, but seeing her friends slip away, first at school and then afterwards, when they found out about dad, had never been easy.
She cleared her throat. ‘What do we do if we can’t find her?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Krystal knows where we’re going. So maybe we park on the A40 with our lights on and watch for her. She’s got her phone, remember.’
How had she forgotten that? She reached for her pocket and the van slewed sideways, taking the front off a BMW and tossing it into a row of parked cars. She yelped and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. This bloody thing was a monster.
‘Call her, give her a call.’
Luke already had his phone out, red cheeked as he caught up with her. He pressed it to his ear, staring deadly serious out into the rain. She smirked at his reflection in the front window. He had a phone face. That made her wonder what other faces he had and she blushed. His irritating confidence had been tempered in the last few days by this really cute nervousness and confusion.
He said it was caused by his humanity. He didn’t say more than that, but he looked a bit like Ed at times, with the same teenage worry lurking between the surface. It was nice. It made him a little less terrifying and a little more approachable. Right now, he looked about ten.
He took the phone away from his ear and stared at it, frowning. Then he pressed it back and his face lit up. ‘It’s ringing.’
She laughed and slowed the artic. They were getting into Soho and the streets narrowed considerably. She took it over to one side and the top scraped along the building. It sounded like someone was tearing the roof off and she hastily pulled it back into the road, smashing into a car. It had nowhere to go and they pushed it all the way down the street. She slammed the brakes on as they reached the end and the car rolled and crashed into a building.
Luke took the phone away from his ear and swore. ‘No answer.’
‘Did you leave it long enough?’
‘My ear’s boiling hot. There!’ He pointed and she saw Krystal’s bike lying on its side in the rain. She yanked the hand brake and jumped out of the cab. Luke’s door went at the same time and they linked up to stare down at her bike. The storm soaked her to the skin and flattened her hair to her head like a wet towel.
Krystal’s body was nowhere around and she let out a breath. The zombies didn’t drag people away. If she’d been got, her body would be here.
So now they just had to find her. She was alive. She shuddered, mouth falling open as she shook. She hadn’t thought for a minute she’d be dead, but seeing something close to proof made her want to cry.
It wasn’t proof of course. It might just mean she was dead somewhere else. But she couldn’t think like that.
‘How do we find her?’ She called after Luke. He was already walking away down a small side road and she took a moment to look elsewhere. Soho was deserted. Where were the zombies that should have been here? She chased after Luke and caught him examining a pair of bodies with severed limbs.
‘We could follow the trail of bodies.’ Luke suggested.
‘Until we come to one the zombies have found. Then we get eaten. I’m getting back in the truck.’
Luke grabbed her arm. ‘You can’t bring it down here, you’ll never get out. She went this way, come on.’
He stomped away through the puddles, the rain threatening to hide him from view at any moment. She cursed and raced after him. The storm eased as the buildings rose around them and the gap above grew na
rrower. The lightning flashed and lit the rain like they were walking through falling quicksilver. Then it was gone and the alley was dark again.
Luke drew his sword, crouching and becoming eerily silent. She stared into the shadows, heart leaping at a sound she knew didn’t belong there. Her legs refused to move and for a moment she was frozen. Then another sound came, of material whooshing through the darkness and she ducked. Nothing. The sound came again, from some way in front of her, and she blushed.
She scampered forwards through the darkness and spotted Luke, moving like the lightning that had just illuminated the alleyway. The figure before him slumped to the ground and Bayleigh sneaked closer. Luke glanced up and she stopped in her tracks.
The humanity was gone. His face was impassive, eyes shadowed, but in the darkness she saw only a predator, ready to strike. She should feel safe but it scared her, like he wouldn’t make the distinction between her and a zombie.
‘Luke?’
He lowered his sword. ‘She’s been this way. This one was feasting.’
He nodded at another body on the floor. Bayleigh shuddered. She was sneaking and creeping along, heart in her mouth, whilst Krystal had not only come here on her own, but she’d slain zombies on the way. She shook herself, trying to find her strength. She’d been out in this storm only a few hours ago, alone and killing. Now she was terrified.
She rubbed her hands over her face and straightened. She could do this. She could kill them just as easily as Luke. She pulled the knife from her belt and gripped the handle. Luke was staring at her, faintest of grins on his face, and she blushed again. She was suddenly aware of how her sodden t-shirt clung to her body.
He stared for another moment and she was about to say something when he turned and set off through the storm. They’d taken only a few steps when the first gunshot rattled between the buildings and reached for them like a hungry zombie. Luke broke into a run and caught up with Bayleigh for a moment. Then she stretched out and left him behind.
Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 8
