‘We’re going to get food.’
Their heads jerked up and they almost climbed into his lap. He chuckled and led them out of the box. They marched through the theatre, the boys either side of him. They were walking upright, but every now and then one would drop to all fours and scramble along for a few feet before straightening again.
They reached the foyer. A zombie stood in the centre, staring aimlessly around. Dave felt the mist come down but held himself back as his boys rushed forwards. They threw themselves at the zombie before it had time to attack them and tore it apart. Neither showed any signs of eating and Dave sighed. He didn’t want to go to St Paul’s.
They stepped into the street and Dave rolled his shoulders and smiled. It was like having your own security detail. He didn’t want to take his time getting there, but the temptation to stroll down the middle of the street was huge. Let the zombies come. Hell, let the soldiers come as well, let them all come. Between him and his boys, the streets weren’t safe for anyone else.
His broad grin preceded their progress, but he struggled to find understanding. He didn’t know why he felt happy, or even what it meant beyond the fuzziness in his head and the butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure it mattered, though, not right now.
The zombies came. In ones and twos they came, and were torn apart. He let the haze come down, and joined with his children, rending the zombies with his bare hands. There was danger, of course there was, but it never felt close, not like it had the last week. They were invincible now. They were the wind, cutting through the zombies like they were autumn leaves on long dead trees.
Something clicked in his mind, just like before, but nothing followed it. He shrugged it off. Another memory maybe, breaking free and sinking into the morass that lay beneath his new found fatherhood. That was all that mattered now.
Their progress was slow and he felt their hunger like it was his own. He stopped beside a car, checked for the keys, then jumped in. The boys piled in, fighting for the front seat until he barked at them to calm down. They pulled away and weaved through the traffic until St Paul’s appeared beneath the clouds, looming and sombre.
He sat, gripping the steering wheel. There were more clicks, images trying to claw their way through, but he squashed them down. He knew without seeing them they were things of which he didn’t want to be reminded. This place was wrong and sat in his stomach like bad food. He took a breath and opened the door.
The boys shoved past him and bounded towards the huge steps that climbed to the entrance of St Paul’s.
‘STOP. Both of you, come back here.’
They paused, still staring ahead, and he thought they were going to ignore him. But they turned and came slinking back. He nodded to them. ‘Good, well done. The men in here have guns. They are very dangerous. They aren’t like the zombies. We must go in quietly and wait until the right time to strike. Do you understand?’
They both nodded and he led the way up the steps until they stood to one side of the entrance. There was no sign of any soldiers. He remembered enough to know the men in grey and white were bad, but the details escaped him. Dave peered around the door frame.
The cathedral was quiet and dark. A vast dome of white material shimmered darkly in the centre. There were no soldiers, or anyone else for that matter, so they crept into the shadows then made their slow way down the massive space, the boys sniffing as they went.
They almost walked straight into the soldier. He was standing stock still and his grey fatigues blended into the wall. Dave grabbed the boys by the arms and dragged them back into the darkness, then put his finger to his lips.
They nodded and he relaxed and watched the man. How could they sneak up without alerting him and the others? He had a gun and Dave couldn’t think about what would happen if he was given time to use it. He glanced at the boys but they were gone. He opened his mouth to call them back, but before he could get a word out, they appeared from the shadows and launched themselves at the soldier.
He had no time to do anything, let alone trigger an alarm. In a matter of moments his throat was torn out by eager teeth and the hand that had rested on his gun was shattered in powerful jaws. Dave put his own hand over his mouth and backed away.
He’d seen this too often in the last week, but these were his children and they needed to eat. Besides, this man was partly responsible for the mass genocide of every person on Earth, so his sympathy only went so far. His stomach lurched and he turned away. There was one less person on Earth now, one from only a couple of thousand.
He had to focus on his children. They were what mattered. Sounds rose up to fill the cathedral, of lips being smacked and blood being lapped. Dave walked away from the feast, pressing his lips together and taking deep breaths.
It was beautiful in here, peaceful and zombie-free. He could understand why the soldiers hadn’t emerged to attack him or the others. Unless they had. There was every chance the hospital was the site of another massacre and he didn’t know. The ladies had driven him out and he still couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t thought about them in days, but now missing them felt like a knife in the heart.
He was alone. He had his kids of course, but from them he would always be aloof. It was how it had to be with kids, especially ones like his. They would be trouble. He would love them, and get their love in return, but he was still alone.
He hoped, more than anything, that the hospital wasn’t empty and that his companions were still there. He should take the boys to meet them. It would be strange to see them again with two fully grown sons.
The sounds had stopped. Dave turned back to the body and let out a breath. It had been reduced to a set of bones covered in tufts of flesh and blood. It was easier looking at that. It was abstract somehow, not a real dead person. The boys strolled over and Dave blinked and stared.
The gawkiness was gone, along with the hunch. Now his boys stood straight, broad, arrogant grins on their faces and wings emerging from below their shoulders. They swaggered with a confidence he’d seen only in Luke and their other father. And they were taller than him.
‘Father.’
‘Yes, son?’
‘I wish to see my father.’
He pushed past Dave and headed for the door. Dave raised his hand and opened his mouth. But what could he say? He tried anyway. ‘Son, I’m your father, right here.’
His other boy pushed past him, throwing a beautiful sneer his way. ‘You aren’t our father, don’t be so foolish.’
Dave followed them, jogging to keep up with their effortless strides as they marched out of St Paul’s. The sky was pale grey above them as they unfurled their wings and flapped them experimentally.
‘Wait, please, I’ve got so much to teach you.’
The first turned back to him, wearing an identical sneer to his brother. ‘What exactly do you have to teach us?’
He wanted to say ‘how to be human’, or ‘love’, but the words died in his throat. His son nodded and flapped his wings furiously until he climbed gradually into the sky. The other followed him and Dave sank to his knees, staring as they grew smaller and smaller until they were swallowed by the low hanging cloud.
His head dropped into his lap, hands clapping around his ears. There was nothing to hear save the low growls of the zombies gathered around the base of the steps. Where had they been when the three of them arrived? There was something else at work here and he knew who it was.
‘AZ!’
His voice came back to him, bouncing off the surrounding buildings, but behind it came silence. He sank down again and pressed his face into his legs. He waited for the telltale flapping of wings that meant his children had returned. It didn’t come and he shivered, the chill wind whipping his shirt around.
He realised with a start he was knelt here in only a t-shirt and trousers. It was as though he’d not stopped to think about the temperature or anything else. But he was a father, it was how these things worked. Was a father. Now he didn’t kn
ow.
But then he did. Just like that, as though a switch had been flipped, he knew very well he wasn’t a father. Of course he wasn’t a father. He had some small spark of Az inside him but nothing more. He was broken and now he was alone again. A sob escaped him and he buried his face once more into his legs.
Krystal
She could do this. She already knew she moved faster than Luke. She had to stay focused and— here they came. Her thoughts scattered, driven aside by an instinct she hadn’t known she had. The first zombie shifted at the last minute and her sword went through its jaw instead of its eye.
The blade slid up through its face and into its brain. It had worked,. The method didn’t matter so much as the limp corpse she let slide off her sword. The next was already on her. She ducked its swinging hand. Everything was faster and harder and although she followed its arm with her sword, it was gone before her blade could cut through it.
The zombies were still clumsy, though, and its swing left its right side open. She slammed her sword through its ribs, shattering them as it cut deep into its lungs. The zombie staggered to the side, giving her an easier blow, and she flicked the tip into its temple. Its skull cracked and the blade sunk into its brain.
Two down. Another leapt at her and she wasn’t ready. She was off balance and dropped to her knee, lashing out desperately with her sword. She hit it in the face and took the skin and flesh off the bone, but nothing more. The zombie lurched forwards and its jaw landed on her arm.
It was going to bite her. She was covered in goosebumps before she realised it wasn’t moving. Her sword was stuck through the creature’s neck, emerging from the back of its skull, and she had no idea how it got there. Tears sprang into her eyes as she realised how close she’d been.
‘Krystal.’ Luke was looking at her, face pale.
‘I’m alright. I’m alright.’ She was shaking as she pushed herself up and shoved the zombie off her sword with her foot. Then the next zombie attacked and the shaking had to go because she had to fight.
She didn’t think for the next two, just hit and dodged and hit again. A roar filled her ears and she thought it was thunder, the storm returning to wash them away. Then bright lights came from behind her and lit her next target up. The zombie staggered and its speed sent it flying to the floor. She winced at the sound of its face striking the concrete, but she put her sword through its head nonetheless.
Then she spun around. Bayleigh was right there, waving frantically at them through the van window. She was here. They weren’t dead and Bayleigh was here. She wanted to weep.
‘Ready to go?’ Luke asked her.
‘Oh, hell yeah.’
She pushed Luke with her shoulder and they shifted together around the side of the cab. The zombies could only come from one direction now, but they had become desperate and threw themselves into the fray. Side by side it was much easier to fight. Luke would swing, a wide blow that decapitated one zombie. In the space left by his swing, she could step forwards and strike the next before it got close.
The door behind them swung open and as one they scrambled up into the cab. Bayleigh put her foot down before Krystal was fully inside. A claw grabbed at her foot before being wrenched away as the truck hurtled across the car park. They headed straight for the warehouse and Bayleigh swore, struggling with the weight of the huge van.
Luke leant his weight to the wheel and the cab tipped as it cornered sharply. They scraped the corner of the warehouse and powered across the car park. Bayleigh’s breath was explosive as it rushed from her lungs. She brought them around in a wide arc and headed back the way they had come.
‘I’m going to run them down, every last one of them.’
The car park was empty. A pile of bodies lay in a circle where Krystal and Luke had been standing, but of the other attackers, there was no sign.
‘How are they doing that? What’s happened to them?’
‘Something’s controlling them. I don’t know how, but I’d put money on it being Az.’
Bayleigh growled and turned again, taking them behind the warehouse to where the huge truck waited. Bayleigh parked as close as she could and Luke hopped across to the other cab. The engine started and Krystal grinned as she jumped the gap and pulled herself up into the cab.
Bayleigh came last, dashing past the front then climbing into the driver’s seat.
‘Right, we’ve got a full tank, that’s lucky. Let’s go, I guess.’
Krystal sat back as the van rumbled backwards and forwards across the car park. She blanked out Bayleigh’s swearing and Luke’s constant attempts to help. She closed her eyes and focused on the spot on her arm where she could still feel the teeth pressing against her skin. It had been that close. Reflex, nothing more, had saved her. That meant blind luck.
She squeezed her eyes closed as tight as she could and bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry. If she cried, Luke would see how scared she was and stop taking her out on missions. There weren’t going to be any more missions, not right now, but she still wasn’t going to cry.
She peered out the window. The van bumped up the ramp from the warehouse and onto the road. Almost immediately they drove into another car, slamming it aside, and Krystal was thrown about. She pulled her seat belt on and closed her eyes again. That close. Her hands were shaking and she opened her eyes again.
She couldn’t close them, not if she wanted to stay sane. She focused on the skyline as the sun crept up and threw diffuse light through the clouds. London looked tired and dull down here. There was none of the magic of the centre and the constant drizzle was just boring.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go to the country. What did you do there? If what Luke said was true and there were no zombies, what were they going to do? She’d be bored. And all the ladies would be there, with their perfect hair and beautiful faces and amazing figures and… it wasn’t working. They were lovely to her and, try as she might, she couldn’t avoid the fact that without them there wouldn’t be any hope.
She would be watched, everyone waiting until she showed signs of wanting to have children. She shuddered. She was breeding stock now. She wasn’t sure what breeding stock meant, but she’d heard Alex and Luke talking about it, and she was pretty certain it meant they had to have kids. Krystal couldn’t think of anything worse.
The going was slow through the middle of town, bumping aside anything they couldn’t drive round. Bayleigh squeaked every time they drove into something, but bit by bit their progress got faster and smoother. It was daylight, half eight, by the time they reached the A40.
The route along the M40 was faster and they soon turned off and headed up into the countryside. She stared at houses bigger than anything she’d ever seen, and meadows that stretched for miles. It was incredible. She’d been out to the country when she was younger but it all felt hazy now, unreal. This felt very real indeed.
A screech made them all jump and they looked up to see a pair of kites wheeling above the van. One came hammering towards them and Bayleigh put on the brakes. The kite struck the front window, huge wings flapping furiously as it clawed at the glass with its talons. Amongst all the feathers, Krystal could see eyes that were red and bloodshot and a beak smeared with blood.
‘It got the animals. It got the bloody animals.’
Luke nodded soberly. ‘Which means we’ve got no meat.’
Bayleigh pulled away, driving down the wrong side of the road. The kite didn’t stop attacking, driving itself into the windscreen. Every time it struck, Krystal jerked and covered her eyes. It was so much worse than the human ones, though maybe once she’d killed a couple it wouldn’t be so bad. But why make something that got the animals as well?
The satnav led them down a track far too narrow for the van. Trees screeched both sides of it and Krystal was convinced they were going to get stuck. Then, like an oasis in the desert, the truck appeared before them, parked outside a white farmhouse.
Krystal didn’t know why it was so exciting, b
ut she was out of the cab before Bayleigh put on the brakes and raced into the house. Alex was in the kitchen, eyes half closed and cup of tea in his hand. When he saw her, his face split into a grin.
‘Welcome home.’
It was the words that did it, words she hadn’t heard in almost four years. When she buried her face in his chest, she couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
Luke
He stayed in the cab as Bayleigh followed Krystal. His eyes wandered from the leafy trees that bumped gently against the windscreen, to the long track that wound away to more farms and fields. There was a peace here, if he wanted it.
He could stay and they could rebuild. They would need more men, that was undeniable, but there were hopeful signs from the soldiers. The relationship was broken after their fight in the city, but it could be rebuilt. They could find the trustworthy ones and bring them out here. It would happen, given enough time.
And there was no hurry. The ladies were young, smart, and capable, and had plenty to do with getting food growing and learning how to defend themselves. But the world needed to be rebuilt. They would have to breed some time. Some would be infertile, it was inevitable, and they had to be sure there were enough of them.
He could picture it. In ten years time there would be a new generation of children running around the farm, learning their zombie-lore and growing vegetables. Was there some way to grow chickens from those still around? Would the eggs be tainted with the plague?
All these questions came with a future both complex and refreshingly simple. The electricity would start to go soon. The lights would go out, the phones and the internet would stop working, and they would slide back into a simpler time. And part of him thought it would be the most wonderful thing.
Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 15
