‘How are they?’
Alex shrugged. ‘Bayleigh and Krystal are fine, just tired. Ed? His leg’s screwed. No chance he’ll ever walk again.’
Luke’s eyebrows rose. ‘Just like that?’
‘It’s not just like that. However he broke it, the bone completely separated. I think Bayleigh put it back together, but without knowing what we’re doing I can’t see it mending properly.’
‘So we’ve got to carry him around now?’
‘Or we find somewhere safe which means we don’t have to travel around.’
Luke nodded, peering past him into the room. ‘Krystal’s tough.’
‘Yeah, seems to be. So’s Bayleigh. Did you find anything?’
‘No sign of them. Either they’re still in St Paul’s or they’re dead.’
‘And we have no way of knowing which.’
‘I’d know. I don’t think they’re dead. I know I said it, but I think I’d know if they were.’
They went back into the room and Alex settled himself in his chair. Luke leant against the wall then slid down it until he was sitting. His arm carried a nice white bandage that concealed the mess Alex had made of it. The bullet had been in there, or at least some of it had, and getting it out had been a scalpel and alcohol job.
Despite his initial complaints of how annoying pain was when you were a human, Luke hadn’t made a sound throughout the operation. Whether it was stubbornness or a high pain threshold, Alex hadn’t asked. Luke could still move the arm and Alex counted that a success.
At some point in the course of the morning, Bayleigh awoke and the three of them sat closer, talking in low voices. They exchanged stories and when Bayleigh came to talking about the angel called Seph, Luke’s face went white.
‘What is it?’
He looked past both of them, at something that clearly wasn’t in the hospital, grinding his teeth. Eventually he nodded. ‘Keep this from the kids, alright?’
They both nodded and he went on. ‘Alex, you remember me saying Az was my friend?’
‘Of course.’
‘So was Seph. I’ve known Seph for, I have no idea how long. Longer than humans have known my name. Before I was banished we worked together. When I rebelled he opted to stay out of it, but he was always honest with me. He came to see me…’
He trailed off and Alex watched emotions flit across his face. He waited, ignoring the concerned glance Bayleigh was giving him. She hadn’t seen the Father and he wasn’t sure she really got how big this all was. She definitely didn’t get how huge a change Luke had been through. He was readjusting, finding how his old memories and life fit into a new way of seeing the world.
‘He came to see me, just before I attacked. He said why he didn’t want to join me, but he still believed in me, still wanted to work together after it all ended. I don’t think he thought for a second I would go as far as I did. But the moment I was released from Hell and got back to the Flights, he was the first one to come and say hi. Thousands of years and he still came straight away. He was the only one, actually… Tell me again, exactly everything that happened and what he said.’
Bayleigh sighed but repeated the story. A few minutes later Krystal crawled from the bed and joined them, adding her memories to Bayleigh’s. She recounted how she’d killed the thing Az and the test subject had birthed and he grinned and nodded. She shrugged it off like killing the zombie spawn of a demon was all in a day’s work.
It was some time in the afternoon when Alex stood and peered through the window again. The carrier bags of food Luke had collected were considerably lighter and all of them felt something closer to human. He watched the zombies going about their daily bumbling and realised something had changed.
Many were stopped and staring down the road at something he couldn’t see. He craned his neck but the edge of the building got in the way. The zombies moved, stumbling and shifting in the direction of their stares.
‘Something’s out there.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘The zombies are certainly interested in something.’
Luke stood abruptly and picked his sword up. ‘Back in a minute.’
He was out of the door before Alex could offer to go with him. Not that he would. He ignored Bayleigh and Krystal’s questioning stares and turned back to the window. The zombies were swarming and his fingers drummed against the window.
David
He wasn’t going to make it.
His side burned like someone was shoving a lit cigarette into his skin. Except there were hundreds of cigarettes all squashed together and burning with the heat of the sun. He stumbled for the hundredth time and stuck his arms out like wings to balance him.
Jackson was too far ahead. He could almost touch him but the gap between them was too wide. Any second now David would fall and Jackson would keep going and leave him to the creatures that drew ever closer. Jackson squeezed off another shot and a zombie to their right spun and fell, blood spouting from a massive hole in his hip. Other zombies fell on him and feasted.
But the longer they were out here, the larger the crowd became, and the fewer zombies were attracted by the free meal. They were put off by the gun shot, the volume driving them back. But they were getting closer. And his side hurt. And his legs hurt and his back hurt and everything hurt.
‘Jackson, hold up, I can’t, I just can’t…’
The huge man glanced over his shoulder but didn’t stop running. ‘You have to. Stop whinging and run. I thought you could run.’
‘I’m tired, man, I’m just tired.’
‘Don’t ‘man’ me, I’m God’s chosen.’
David groaned and almost stopped running. He could handle the zombies and the pain and everything. But an overzealous born-again Christian in possession of a gun and not an ounce of irony was just too much.
‘Fine, whatever, chosen one, I don’t give a crap, I can’t go any further.’
He stopped, coming to a halt like a marathon runner who’d crossed the line second. His head went between his knees and he heaved and heaved. His moments of clarity were coming and going, but he recognised them now. He knew when the mist came down and everything seemed hopeless that it was just the disconnect in his brain. But the exhaustion chased the crazy away. It was either the exhaustion or the probability he was going to die any moment and with only a mad yardie for company.
Jackson kept running for a moment, like he expected David to up and keep going. When he saw that he wasn’t, he snarled and turned back. Jackson knelt before him and threw him over his shoulder. The air rushed from his lungs and suddenly he was bouncing along, head banging against his companion’s huge back. It should have been embarrassing, but was instead deeply relaxing.
He would survive this. The wind couldn’t be killed. Trapped and stopped maybe, even tied down, but they could never kill him. He nodded in satisfaction, watching an upside-down zombie take a bite out of another upside-down zombie’s arm. The eater was bleeding from a massive gash ripped out of its face. Moments after it sunk its teeth in, the eater’s head left its shoulders and hit the floor, the flesh spilling from its mouth.
David frowned. Something flashed before his eyes and another of the zombies collapsed right in front of him with a huge rent in its head. The world shifted and David was dumped on the floor, his tail bone slamming to the concrete. He writhed in pain, oblivious to the zombies closing in around him.
Only they weren’t. His surprise at still being alive made him forget the pain and look around. Luke was here, sword flashing in the afternoon sunlight, driving the zombies back. Jackson had reversed the gun and was using the stock to bash heads in. He wasn’t as effective as Luke but he was doing a pretty good job of it. David clambered to his feet, head spinning.
Luke glanced at him. ‘Ready to go?’
He nodded with a confidence he didn’t feel. But when he told his foot to move it did and soon he was weaving his way up the street with an honour guard. Only a minute or so later, they stag
gered in through the glass doors of the hospital and up the stairs. David got as far as the first floor landing before his strength gave out and he collapsed. He heard someone muttering something about blood loss, then blackness descended.
The kid was in the bed next to him. He looked bad, worse even that David felt, and that was saying something. He rolled over and had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. His side was on fire, red hot pokers being jammed into it, and his eyes filled with tears.
The wind didn’t feel pain. But then again, was he really the wind? He blushed and put his hands over his face. He didn’t know who or what he was, only that he hadn’t been much use so far. Captured by the soldiers and set free by Jackson, he couldn’t even get to the hospital without collapsing. Why had Jackson done it?
He’d been so sure when he came in the room that he’d lost it. The big man had been all mouth of God and had no hesitation in punching him very hard. He felt the bruises on his face, gingerly pressing his fingers against them until the pain flared up. His stomach too. Jackson had done a number on him and looked to be enjoying it, so why the hell had he rescued him?
There was always a chance Jackson was as mad as he was. What had Luke done to him? He ground his teeth. He didn’t want to think about Luke. The angel had wrecked him. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Luke had screwed him for good. He rolled onto his back and eyed the ceiling, blinking away the moisture.
He’d never been the greatest guy. In fact, he was probably a bit of an arsehole. The whole Amber and Steph thing hadn’t been good and maybe he’d deserved some sort of recompense…
That was why it had happened. His mouth flapped as his mind did cartwheels. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to figure out. The whole dying alone thing had been as punishment for his affair.
It was just an affair.
Only it wasn’t just an affair, was it? It was years of hating his life and loathing Amber and not saying anything about it. It was years of weakness on both their parts, but he’d taken the easy way out while she clung to something that no longer existed. Was she any stronger than him because of it?
It didn’t matter now. Yeah, he’d deserved some punishment maybe, but not what he got. His memories felt like someone else’s, like they’d happened in a book he’d read once. He felt… splintered. And it was Luke’s fault. It didn’t matter that it was his job, he’d…
He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to pretend the tears weren’t real. He wasn’t the crying sort, but the pillow either side of his head was getting wet and the lights on the ceiling were blurred. The door clicked open and he hastily scrubbed at his eyes and blinked.
Luke stood above him, a look that he thought was meant to be concern painted on it like bad makeup.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like shit. You?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I’m okay. I’m still trying to work out what okay is supposed to feel like. My body is doing what I ask it and my mind’s sharp, so I suppose that’s a good thing.’
What was going on? He was acting human and vaguely normal. ‘What are you trying to do?’
‘Sorry?’
‘What are you trying to do? Acting all concerned and crap? Is this some weird way to try and apologise?’
‘I’m not apologising for anything. I’m changing and I don’t know why and I don’t much like it, but I thought you’d appreciate a little honesty.’
‘Honesty? Great, perfect, in that case, why did you fuck me over?’
‘I didn’t set out to do that. I gave you a choice and you made the wrong one.’
David struggled to sit up, ignoring the tearing feeling coming from his waist. ‘Yeah, fine, I made the wrong one. I’m a bad guy. That doesn’t mean you had to send me away. I was so alone, I was so—’
‘That shouldn’t have happened. Most people can handle considerably longer than that in isolation. Considerably longer. I think your brain is weak and couldn’t handle the change.’
‘My brain’s weak? That’s amazing, what a great excuse. ‘You should have been fine when I screwed you, but your brain is weak so you aren’t. Sorry about that’.’
‘What would you have me do?’
‘Fix me.’ His mouth shook and his voice came out sounding like a child. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head, but the tears came anyway and he covered his face as his cheeks burned. He turned his head down so the hot tears struck his hands and ran down his wrists and arms. Luke was silent.
David dragged the palms of his hands over his eyes and stared at Luke. He was blurred but David could still see the look on his face of something close to remorse. It wasn’t enough but it was better than the arrogance of yesterday. Luke put a hand on the sheet like he was going to take his hand and David stiffened.
Fortunately, it stayed where it was with Luke staring at it. ‘I’m sorry, David.’ He took a deep breath, like every word hurt. ‘It wasn’t my intention. But I can’t fix you. I don’t even know whether you’re broken.’
‘I’m broken. You can take my word for it.
Luke nodded like he cared and stood up. ‘We’re going to have a chat in a bit, figure out what we do next. Are you up for it?’
David nodded, keeping his teeth together for fear of what he might shout if he opened his mouth. Luke went to the door. ‘We’re just out here. Come out whenever you want.’
He paused by Ed’s bed and looked down at him, then stepped past and out the door. David watched it click closed and rolled away to face the window. His teeth were clenched so tight his entire jaw shook and it took a concerted effort to prise them apart.
He wasn’t sorry. He was changing, apparently, like that made things okay. David pulled his hand out of the sheet and stared at it. He was changing as well. He hadn’t had much strength in his life. He could recognise that now and live with it. But he had the strength to do what he needed. And what he needed was to end Luke.
He said he was an angel. He said he was here to try and save the world, but David didn’t care. No angel would do what he’d done. No angel would treat him the way Luke treated him. Whatever he was, it wasn’t an angel and even if it was, he still needed to die. It didn’t matter how long it took, he was going to kill Luke and smile as he did it.
But for now, he needed to get up and join the meeting. He pulled the sheets away and examined his side. The bandages were soaked through with blood and he groaned and lay back. Maybe he should stay here for a little while longer, just until the bleeding stopped.
Krystal
She should probably be in the meeting. They were talking about important things and she should be part of it. But she just couldn’t be bothered. She wasn’t convinced they would listen to a word she had to say.
And she couldn’t sit in that tiny room with Jackson. He was ‘born again’, whatever that meant, but that didn’t make his eyes any less creepy or his hands any less grabby. He hadn’t grabbed her. He hadn’t done anything except smile in what he probably thought was a nice way. Except it wasn’t.
It was the end of the world, there were seven of them left, and somehow two of them were complete nutters. She sighed and clapped her hand over mouth. Every sound was loud out here. She paced along, stopping every few seconds to listen. The corridors reminded her of another time.
Her life had always been divided into pre-homeless and homeless. Now there were three compartments and the first seemed even further away than it had before. There was a time when she’d had a mother and father and a home and friends, but it was so long ago she could barely remember it. The smell in here, though, brought some of it back.
She didn’t know when she’d been in hospital. She wasn’t even sure it was for her, or someone else. Maybe mum or dad had needed an operation. But she remembered the long corridors with all the signs with words she didn’t understand. And she remembered the smell, like everyone was trying to hide something.
She paused, crouching down to peer around the corner. A zombie shuffled down the
corridor towards her, backless gown flapping about like a pair of wings. It should have been comical but it made her fists clench and the heat rise to her neck. She fingered the knife that was stuffed in her belt. Luke had given it to her willingly enough, like he knew what she was doing.
She had to get over the fear. This was the world now, and she’d seen what it’d done to Bayleigh and Alex. They were terrified. She wouldn’t be like that, she couldn’t be. She’d never been scared of anything in her life. Except dad. But running away from him had been the best choice she could make and she’d done it. She didn’t need to run away from these things. She just needed to get stronger.
She slipped around the corner and it spotted her immediately. It shambled quicker than she expected but she dodged and it stumbled past. Its clawed hand caught her top as it passed, but she skipped free and around the back. Then she shoved it as hard as she could. The zombie staggered forwards but didn’t go down.
With a hiss, she leapt forward and shoved again, using both hands this time. It staggered and lost its footing, thudding onto its knees. One of them cracked and her nose wrinkled as the smell of rot wafted up. The zombie’s arms still flailed about, but there was room behind it. Her knife went in through the soft bit at the top of its neck. The curved blade carried it up into the brain and the zombie’s arms dropped to its sides.
She held the hilt with both hands as the horrible thing fell forwards, and it slid off the blade with a sound like a boot being pulled from thick mud. Blood ran down its naked back and off its waist to pool on the floor. The first part of her plan was complete.
She nipped back to her corner and crouched out of sight of the body. How quickly would they smell it? Would they smell it at all?
She wasn’t sure all this planning about the soldiers was worth the time. There weren’t that many and they barely seemed to care about the seven of them except for study purposes. The zombies were the future. They weren’t going anywhere and they knew next to nothing about them. This is what they should be spending their time doing.
Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Page 7
