Etienne frowned. ‘That remains to be seen. Once they understand what has happened in the world while they slept, I believe they will see the true extent of the blessing we have bestowed upon them.’
Jackson snorted. ‘We’ll see. So when do they take off the gas masks?’
‘We are testing the plague. We have a good number of test subjects we are exposing at regular intervals. Once one survives, the masks come off.’
‘Do you have any idea when that’ll happen?’
‘We expected it to have already happened.’ Another frown. ‘No, no idea.’
‘When you said you have complex plans, what you mean is you have a vague idea of what you think’s gonna happen, right?’
Etienne flushed and tapped the desk. ‘Reaching this point has taken many years of careful planning and manoeuvring and—’
‘And now it’s a free for all. You need me more than you think.’
‘We don’t need anyone. We don’t need me. The soldiers of God will operate without any single part in place. It is how we have been so successful for so long.’
‘Mmm. What now?’
Etienne opened his mouth but a soldier popped his head through the tent flap and cleared his throat. ‘Leader, apologies for the interruption, but the second captive has woken up.’
‘Splendid.’ The frown left Etienne’s face as he beamed at Jackson. ‘This is what now. I have a task for you. You are here because you are chosen by God, correct?’
Jackson nodded.
‘So how do you explain the presence of this other gentleman? If his ramblings are anything to go by, he is not in complete control of his mind. Is he chosen too? Or maybe it is something biological, something inherent within him. Our scientists are keen to find out. I’d like you to join them. Something a little more forceful than their normal ministrations may be needed…’
‘You want me to torture him?’
‘Indeed.’
Jackson grinned and stood. This was God’s will.
David
He woke to faces clad in gas masks, and fingers poking and prodding him. He tried to speak and they shoved a tube down his throat. He started to cough and a hand went over his nose and mouth. They were suffocating him. Sweat broke over his forehead and his coughing dried up. The hand was removed and he explored the tube with his tongue.
The poking stopped and they went away. He sunk gratefully back into sleep.
More poking, more prodding. Voices, loud and inconsiderate of his sleep. He went back quickly enough once they were gone.
It was silent when he woke again. The ceiling was white. The walls were white. The sheets that wrapped him and trapped him in the bed were white. He blinked and squeezed his eyes closed in the hope his headache would go. It didn’t. The tube was gone.
He tried to sit but the sheets held him firm. He tried to move his arms but straps wrapped tight around them. He twitched then spasmed, throwing his body this way and that. His legs were strapped as well. He snarled and wriggled and twisted and remained pretty much exactly where he was.
He was the wind.
They had tied down the wind.
He couldn’t be tied down, he couldn’t.
He was the wind.
‘I’M THE WIND!’
His voice bounced dully off the walls, like they drank the sound and spat out the bits they didn’t want. He giggled, tongue sticking out between his chapped lips. Memories of the last two days swam past him, hundreds of tiny fish each bearing a picture on it. He saw zombies and the people he had traveled with. Where were they? Were they in other rooms, strapped down as he was?
Another picture floated past, of Bayleigh and the children watching him go. They escaped. Did they escape? He hoped so. They were nice. They looked at him funny, but they were nice. Nicer than the big man who talked about God all the time. He was frightening. They thought David was mad, but Jackson was really insane. He believed in God the same way children did eternity and fairies. There was no doubt there.
The door opened and he twisted to watch them come in. One of the robed men, gas mask on, came first. Behind him came Jackson. David screamed and rolled away, staring at the wall. He was imagining it. He was dreaming. This wasn’t happening. Maybe they were bringing him in to strap him down as well. He blinked furiously. When he looked again, the big man would be gone.
‘David. How you doing?’
He whimpered and buried his face in the pillow. It was snatched away and his face hit the firm mattress. ‘I’m the wind, I’m the wind, I’m the wind, I—’
‘You’re David. You’re a bit of a fruit and we need to talk to you. These guys wanna make it easy. I’m not bothered. God’s will is that you help us. It’s gonna happen, doesn’t matter how.’
Hands grabbed him and forced him onto his back. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling and found a spot where the paint had a swirl in it. He wouldn’t take his eyes from that, no matter what they did. More prodding. Why did they prod? What did they hope to achieve by prodding him?
‘David. My name is Andre. I am chief surgeon with the soldiers of God. I need to ask you some questions.’
It almost felt like being at the doctors. Only the first question dispelled that notion pretty quick.
‘How did you feel when the plague came down?’
His eyes wouldn’t move. They couldn’t make him speak. They couldn’t make him do anything. And any chance he got, he’d rip their gas masks off. But then they’d eat him if he was still strapped down. He wouldn’t speak.
‘Brother Jackson, if you would?’
David gritted his teeth. The blow came to his stomach and, despite the warning, his breath shot from his lungs. He gasped and tried to turn on the bed, to find a position that hurt less. He needed the toilet. A second blow came and he wet himself. A chorus of groans went up in the room and his face burst into flames.
He hauled on the straps. He craved escape. He need to hide away and bury himself. Maybe he could fly away. He was the wind.
They were talking.
‘That was a little too hard at this stage. Have you done this before?’
‘Torture? Not exactly.’
‘Right, well, perhaps you ought to let me guide you a little more. David?’
He was speaking to him. His bum was wet and warm and his nose wrinkled at the smell. But they weren’t moving him. He was going to stay here, lying in his piss. He whimpered.
‘David? I’ll ask you again. How did you feel when the plague arrived?’
‘I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t know it had happened. I didn’t feel anything.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘No.’
‘I see. What do you feel when you see a zombie?’
He giggled. ‘What do I feel? What do you think? I shit myself and run away.’
‘So the zombies are bad creatures in your eyes?’
‘They want to eat me, of course they are.’
‘I see. David, how did you survive the plague?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Brother Jackson?’
He twisted and tried to turn on his side. No blow fell and he listened. They spoke too quietly for him to hear. Then a hand pressed against his nose and pushed. His eyes watered and he tried to move his head but he was pushed back into the bed and couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to break his nose.
His feet twitched and spasmed, his hands clenched and unclenched.
This was it.
For a brief moment, his mind cleared. The haze that hung over it swept away like fog in a stiff wind. He remembered who he was, who he really was, and the reality of the last two days sunk in. He’d survived the zombie apocalypse only to be tortured to death by humans. Healthy, human humans.
The pressure lessened and he sucked in air, panting.
‘How did you survive the plague, David?’
‘Stop calling me that.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Stop calling me David. That isn�
��t my name.’
‘I don’t think you’re in a position to be demanding anything, David.’
‘You’re sick. You’re all sick. The world is filled with zombies and you’re in here torturing me when it’s blatantly clear I don’t have any of the answers. I’m not answering anything and you can torture me all you want.’
A fist caught the side of his face and he thought his eye was caving in. The world spun and he had to swallow sick that rushed up his throat. He blinked and tried to focus on the white spot on the ceiling. Another blow came to his stomach and he couldn’t breathe. Jackson - he assumed it was Jackson - grabbed his ear and pulled until the skin at the bottom tore.
A scream escaped his throat and got louder as his ear came away from his head. Jackson let go before it tore entirely and it hung against his skin, warm blood soaking into his hair and onto the bed beneath him.
‘How did you survive the plague, David?’
The haze tried to return. He pleaded for it, to wash away the pain and take him elsewhere, but it remained distant, like a friend waving from a train carriage. His tears were warm against his cheeks and flowed down the sides of his face to mingle with the blood beneath his head.
‘I don’t know. I don’t, truly. I’m not special or different. I just…’ He stopped, scenes of empty London filling his head. ‘The flower seller.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘The flower seller. He sent me… it must have been him. I was so lost, so alone. What did he do to me?’
The face appeared above him, Andre’s eyes burning into his. ‘Tell me about the flower seller.’
He told him. He told him everything and any time he hesitated, a huge finger would flick his torn ear and the pain would engulf him and sweep away all reasonable thought for a while. He caught sight of Jackson once or twice. He looked bored. Until Andre stopped David with a hand on his lips and looked at Jackson.
‘Brother Jackson. You met this flower seller also?’
There was a silence in the room even David noticed, like the silence of nature before the storm arrived. There was the shuffling of clothes as the soldiers in the room shifted position. Jackson’s voice was low and promising.
‘What’re you suggesting?’
‘Were you chosen by God or by the devil?’
David’s laughter burst free of his lips and everyone in the room stiffened and turned to him. ‘He sold me flowers. He wasn’t the devil, believe me.’
‘He wasn’t God either. Whoever he was, he is the reason you survived the plague, I am sure of it. And that means, brother Jackson, you are no more chosen than this pathetic creature. So we have a problem.’
‘Who’re you to judge? Who’s saying you’re anymore the soldiers of God than I am?’
‘My presence here. I am here because we made this happen. Only with God’s will could we have come this far.’
David laughed again until it became coughing. ‘They call me mad.’ He said to no one in particular. ‘You call me a pathetic creature, but I’m lying here and you guys sound like bloody lunatics.’ He craned his neck until he saw Jackson. The big man was tense, hands raised before him and face twisted in a snarl.
‘Jackson, you can’t trust these guys.’
‘Can’t trust you either.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’re mad.’
‘I thought I was. Now, I’m not so sure. There’s nothing like having your ear torn off to bring you a little clarity. What I do know is these guys destroyed the human race, so in the big scheme of things, they’re way worse than me. You knew that twenty four hours ago, I’m not sure what’s happened since.’
Jackson stared at him and his face contorted. At first David thought he was going to cry. His lower lip wobbled and he dragged his fingers over his face. Then his chin hardened as he clenched his teeth together. Their eyes met and David blinked. There was fury like he’d never seen, burning away all else.
Jackson didn’t say a word as he leant over David, but his huge hands moved suddenly, sweeping out to pull Andre, kicking and struggling, straight over the bed. David turned his face to the side to avoid the man’s boots striking him, but they still caught him enough to shake his ear. He whimpered but his eyes remained fixed on Jackson.
He was going to strangle the doctor, or maybe just rip his head off. David winced and scrunched his eyes closed.
‘Take his straps off or I’ll break his neck.’
David stared in amazement at the big man. He’d thought he might storm out, or attack them and go down in a hail of bullets. He hadn’t expected a rescue attempt. One of the soldiers approached the bed but another raised the walkie talkie from his belt and muttered into it.
Jackson moved fast. The doctor dropped to the floor, hands going to his neck where the air finally rushed back in. Jackson grabbed the soldier standing by the bed, yanked the gun from his shoulder, and shoved him back towards the bed.
‘Straps, now.’
The gun never stopped moving, swinging horizontally and aiming for the man with the walkie talkie. He squeezed off a short burst of fire and the soldier flew back into the wall. The sound was deafening in the small room and David swung his head from side to side. The pain in his ear brought darkness in from the corners of his vision and he blacked out.
When he opened his eyes, the gun was slung on Jackson’s shoulder and the doctor was back before him, clawing feebly at Jackson’s massive arm wrapped tight around his neck. The soldier had pulled the sheets off and was fumbling with the strap around his right arm. In the next second it came loose and he stretched and flexed it.
‘Faster.’ Jackson sounded like a zombie, growling and spitting, and his exhortations did nothing but make the soldier shake even more. When the other arm came loose, David sat up and stared around the room. There were four other soldiers, all with their guns aimed at Jackson. As he sat, two of them turned to point them at him.
Krystal
She heard Bayleigh’s shout and risked a glance down. The woman’s face was shrouded and shadowed by the dimming lamps, but she saw the fear there, and she saw her finger, pointing up through the gloom. With one hand still resting on Ed’s back, she looked up.
Her first thought was that a dog had got into the cavern. Then she saw its eyes and face and every part of her screamed to run as fast as she could. It was… she didn’t know what it was. It was terrible and evil, whatever that word meant anymore. At that moment, it slipped over the edge of the shelf and began to clamber down the steps.
‘Right, Ed, we need to move a bit faster. The lamps aren’t gonna last that long. Right foot first, that’s it, keep going. Good, left arm, come on, that’s right, that’s right.’
She kept the words coming, a constant stream that blocked out the fear threatening to overwhelm her. She heard the tremor in her voice but Ed was too busy staring at the stone before him to notice. At least she hoped he was. She looked up. It moved fast, far faster than they did, but it was still way above them.
It had claws, twisted tiny things that emerged from hands curled and creased up. Its face was like a baby’s and her eyes filled with tears. It was a baby. Had it ripped free of its mother’s stomach? Bile burnt the back of her throat and she swallowed it down. Those bastards had so much to answer for. Not that she’d be able to do anything. Right now, she’d be content with getting the hell out of there.
Her throat was dry and hoarse but she kept the words coming. Another glance down. There were almost there! Bayleigh’s hands stretched up to them and it felt like any second she would grab Ed and start running. A glance up. She couldn’t see it. Where was it?
It moved and she gasped. It was maybe twenty metres above them and coming fast. How could something not much bigger than a poodle be so terrifying?
‘C’mon, we’re nearly there, c’mon, c’mon.’
Ten metres away. Something touched her ankle and she screamed.
‘It’s me, it’s Bayleigh, come on.’
They took another
step and Ed was plucked off the wall and lowered to the ground. Krystal jumped to the floor and grabbed Bayleigh’s outstretched hand. The woman nearly yanked her off her feet as she raced off, but she caught up soon enough. A growl came accompanied by the sound of something hard striking the floor and she glanced over her shoulder.
The thing was down and heading their way, racing in and out of the darkness. The cavern was more shadows than light now, but in the brief moment that she saw it, it stood on its hind legs, legs that were hooved and covered in red hair. It was larger than it had been, or maybe it was just the light. No, it was definitely larger, the size of a small child.
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She didn’t want to do anything except run as fast as she could. Soon Bayleigh’s hand pulled against hers as Krystal took the lead, hauling the other two along.
‘I can’t run, I’m knackered, I’ve got a stitch.’
She glared at Ed. His face was red and his cheeks puffed out. One hand gripped his side and she tried to smile. ‘We have to keep moving.’
‘Why, what is it, what is it?’
‘You don’t wanna know. Just keep running.’
But he did want to know, because he was human, so he looked over his shoulder and saw it. At that moment two things happened. The first was that another couple of the lanterns guttered out and the cavern plunged into something close to darkness. The second was that Ed caught his foot on something and went flying, dragging Krystal along with him.
Her hands stopped her fall but it jarred all the way up to her shoulders and she cried out, swearing as she rolled over. Bayleigh fell to her knees beside her and spun around. The growl was horribly close and the smell of rot and iron washed over her. Then the creature struck.
It came like it had been fired from a cannon. A ball of fur so hot she broke into a sweat, struck her in the chest and knocked her flying. It hit the stone, hoofs clattering as it struggled to right itself and come back. Its teeth flashed in the fire light just before it leapt. She caught it by the arms as it crashed into her and smashed her onto her arse.
Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 3
