Read Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Online

Authors: Michael Cairns

Tags: #devil, #god, #lucifer, #London, #Zombies, #post apocalypse, #apocalypse

Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (16 page)

‘What happened in St Paul’s? You buggered off and left Krystal on her own and when you came back you were different.’

He watched Dave’s face carefully and saw the telltale signs. He was lying when he answered.
 

‘Nothing. I mean, nothing I know about.’

His upturned eyes, so guileless, so lacking in any emotion, nearly sold it. But not quite. What had he done in St Paul’s? And how the hell was he and Bay supposed to figure it out? He was back with the same problem again. How could he get the truth from him? Torture? He almost smiled, only it wasn’t funny.
 

‘C’mon, Dave, what happened?’

‘Nothing. I mean it, I don’t even remember what happened. I was so scared about getting down from the dome I just don’t remember anything until I saw everyone coming through the cavern.’

Alex hissed and turned away. He cracked the door and put his ear to the gap. There were angry voices again and he took a deep breath. By the time Luke got back there’d be no one here. He pushed through the door and paused.
 

‘Stay here. Don’t leave and don’t come out. Do you understand?’

Dave nodded, no less bothered by Alex’s commanding tones than he had by the accusation earlier. Alex wandered slowly down the corridor and paused when he saw Bayleigh come around the corner. He almost shouted for her to stop, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her alone yet. He didn’t know what he was going to say.
 

So he waited and let her go in to the main room first, then walked to the door and paused. And listened.
   

Luke

Something was broken. It could be his rib but he thought there was something else as well, something that had woken him. He’d been enjoying sleep, dreaming of Sara and a time when he didn’t have to worry about being woken up, because he never really slept. He’d been good at pretending, lying down and closing his eyes and drifting. Many of them did it. It was another way to feel a little more human, a little more real.
 

But this was real sleep, when he lost himself entirely and the world went away. And now he was awake. Krystal screamed horribly near his ear and the remnants of sleep fled as he sat up. His chest burned and he doubled straight over, waiting for it to ease. It did, a little, enough for him to stand and turn. Krystal stood with her sword in hand, facing the curtains.
 

The wind was blowing them, which meant they were open. Why had she opened the windows? The stupidity of that thought brought him fully awake just as the curtains parted and the first zombie tumbled into the room. It actually fell, climbing over the window sill and toppling head first to the carpet. It would have been funny had he not caught a glimpse of what lay outside.
 

He nodded as Krystal thrust her sword straight through the back of its head and withdrew it just as quickly. One down. He shook himself, scooped his sword off the floor and drew it, dumping the scabbard on the sofa. The next one came through the same way and Krystal chopped the top of its head off before it had a chance to fall on the floor.
 

Luke joined her, stabbing the next one through the face as it appeared. ‘What happened to the window?’

‘They broke it. They threw something at it and broke it.’

He saw the fear on her face and couldn’t disagree with it. They were learning.
 

‘And there’s a leader, some woman telling them what to do.’

‘A zombie?’

‘Of course a bloody zombie.’

He didn’t have a chance to reply because three of them came through the window at the same time. One toppled onto the floor but he focused on one that swung its leg over the sill. He drove his sword straight down through its forehead and grinned as its face split apart. An eyeball fell into the gap and onto the floor.
 

Krystal dealt with the third and they turned together to the one on the floor. It stiffened as they hit it at the same time, destroying its face in the bargain. The window was empty for a moment and he took a deep breath.
 

‘They’re learning, but they aren’t exactly smart.’

‘That’s not making me feel any better. How’s your shoulder?’

He rolled it and winced. ‘I’m trying to ignore it right now. Lucky I can fight with my left.’

‘Oh yeah. That’s a good trick.’

He flashed her a grin and stepped closer to the window. The curtain pushed in and another zombie appeared in the gap. He felt his shoulder this time, despite thrusting with the other hand, and the bite of the blade was inordinately satisfying. They could do this all night, there was nothing to worry about.
 

‘Did you hear that?’ She asked.
 

‘What?’

‘Listen.’

He stepped away from the window and heard it. A crack like a stone hitting glass. Suddenly there was a cascade of cracks and he heard one window shatter followed by another.
 

‘Shit, we need a new plan.’ Krystal backed away from the window, glancing over her shoulder. He nodded and ran past her, waving for her to follow. They ran into the tiny hallway between the lounge and the dining room and saw through the doorway the front window smashed and zombies already appearing in the gap.
 

He shoved Krystal up the stairs and raced after her until they reached the square of landing at the top. He was about to dive into the smallest room when Krystal stopped him.
 

‘Don’t go in there.’

He raised his eyebrows and she shook her head. She paled and kept shaking it. He shrugged and raced into another. Through the curtains he saw the crowds of zombies gathered around three windows downstairs. They were coming in faster now they weren’t there to stop them.
 

‘There.’

Krystal pointed to a zombie stood on the garden table pointing at the house. She looked like an extra in a bad B movie, exhorting her troops with huge waves of her arms.
 

‘Can’t you do anything to her?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. What about your scary thing, you know, ‘greatest fear’ thing?’

Her impression of him was just close enough to make him smile. Then he heard feet on the stairs and ran out to the landing. They were coming, climbing the stairs on hands and knees. Ignoring Krystal’s squeak of protest he headed into the smallest bedroom and saw the cot. He knew instinctively what he’d find in there, but he didn’t need to look in it. He just needed to use it.
 

He slammed it into the door frame as he dragged it out. He lined it up with the stairs and shoved as hard as he could. Krystal groaned and he turned away, not wanting to see what fell out of it. What mattered was the thumps and growls as the zombie nearest them was driven back down the stairs.
 

The cot was lodged at the bottom of the stairs, dug into the wall on one side. He’d bought them a little time, but already one of the zombies was attempting to climb over it. Krystal was still pale, pointing down the stairs with a shaking finger.
 

‘There was…’

‘It doesn’t matter. It was a zombie. They’re all zombies. There’s no cure.’

‘Are you sure?’

He hesitated. He and Alex had pretended they could find one but the creatures they were killing didn’t have a disease. They were a disease and their bodies were far beyond saving. There was no going back for them. He clenched his jaw and nodded. ‘There’s no cure. Their brains are gone.’

‘So how come they’re learning?’

She was far too sharp. ‘I don’t know. It’s bizarre and illogical and very annoying.’

‘Annoying. Not scary or horrible, just annoying?’

He flashed her a smile and checked down the stairs. The zombie was still struggling to get over the cot.
 

‘How are we getting out of here?’

‘You’re just full of questions. How do you think we should get out of here?’ He felt bad as soon as he snapped at her, but it was too late to take it back. Besides, four hundred years ago he’d have been willing the zombies to win, so maybe he shouldn’t feel so bad.
 

He shook his head. That didn’t work. It should have worked but it didn’t and he felt just as bad. He had so much to blame the Father for, though he wasn’t sure blame was the right word anymore. He needed more things to hit. He should apologise.

‘We could get out on the roof.’ Krystal interrupted his thoughts.

‘And that would help how?’

‘I don’t know. But we aren’t going out the front door.’

‘Are you sure? Where are the bikes?’

‘Up by the petrol station.’

‘How far is it?’

‘Five minutes maybe, if we run. Can you run?’

He grunted and nodded. He could run. His rib was feeling better. Maybe he’d just needed to move around and get it back in place. His powers here included a certain degree of unnatural healing, because there was no way his shoulder should be this much better.
 

‘So maybe we do go out the front door.’ He said.

‘How? And, can I just say, you’re mad and stupid.’

‘You may. I’ll save it for later when I need to remind you about the wisdom of climbing on to the roof of St Paul’s.’ She dug him in the ribs and he grinned. ‘We’re going to burn the place down. The zombies won’t like that and we can get out while they panic.’

‘I don’t think zombies panic. And didn’t Bayleigh try this with the shop?’

Luke frowned. She had and he’d laughed at her at the time. But he didn’t have anything better, and neither did Krystal.
 

‘Only one way to find out.’ He headed into the main room, yanked the sheets off the bed, and piled them up atop the mattress. He pulled his ruck sack off his back and dug out the lighter. It took a minute or two to get the sheets burning properly but soon the bedroom was filling with smoke. Krystal burst out coughing and he pulled her out to the landing.

‘Keep low. It all rises, just stay on the floor.’

She crouched on all fours, facing down the stairs to the zombie that had mounted the cot.

‘You can deal with him while I light the other room.’ She scrambled down the stairs while he went into the second bedroom and repeated the process. Smoke was billowing out into the hallway when he emerged. Krystal was sat on the stairs, the zombie absent from the cot. There were more the other side, but they had seen the smoke and no longer seemed desperate to get upstairs.
 

Luke joined her, squeezed together above the cot, and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Ready?’

‘Course not. What’s the plan?’

‘We kick the cot down the stairs, run past them and out the front door, get to the bikes and get away.’

‘My helmet’s in the lounge.’

‘We’ll find you another one. Let’s go.’

He slammed his booted foot into the cot, and it stayed right where it was. It just needed a few more kicks. He tried again and again but the cot was being driven deeper into the plaster on the side of the stairs.
 

‘Luke, is this gonna work?’

He glanced behind them as flames lashed out of the bedrooms to blacken the ceiling. The smoke was making its way down the stairs and he could feel the heat. ‘Cover your face.’

‘With what?’

‘Your t-shirt maybe?’

‘I’m not taking my t-shirt off in front of them.’

‘Really?’

He gave her a look and she shook her head, lips pressed obstinately together. Then she coughed and glared at him. She settled for pulling her t-shirt up over her nose, exposing her skinny stomach. He followed suit and returned to kicking the cot. It was still stuck in the wall but the rail at his end finally cracked and broke in. He grabbed the side rails, yanked them inwards, and the cot collapsed on itself.
 

Heaving a sigh of relief, he twisted it out of the wall and threw it at the zombies. His eyes watered and he had to blink furiously to clear them. Krystal was still coughing, a steady hacking that had her half-sitting on the steps, one hand pressed against the wall.
 

The flames were licking down the stairs and the carpet was on fire. Sweat coated the back of his neck and he shifted his sword from one sweaty hand to another.
 

‘Come on, it’s now or never.’

Krystal nodded and tried to rise. Another wave of coughing washed over her and she sat back down. He grabbed her shoulder and heaved her to her feet. She groaned but stuck her sword out in front of her. He wasn’t sure he would get much help in the fight ahead but as long as she kept up, he could manage.
 

He leapt past her down the last few steps. He landed on the remains of the cot and the zombie trapped beneath grabbed his ankle. He hacked its wrist until it severed and hot blood spilled across his foot. The house was packed with zombies, and though they weren’t charging, they weren’t running away, either.
 

Bayleigh had tried this and had similar results. He’d known that. But Bayleigh hadn’t had a sword. He strode into the lounge and lunged straight for the nearest zombie, severing a raised arm on the way to chopping its face in half. A cough signalled the arrival of Krystal as she appeared beside him. Her t-shirt still covered her mouth and her eyes were streaming with tears, but she attacked the next zombie with no less energy or effort.

They cut their way through to the front door until they had their backs to it. The heat was horrendous, sweat dripping from his eyebrows and stinging his eyes. The fire was coming through the ceiling, smoke flooding the lounge and pieces of blackening plaster raining down. The zombies weren’t smart enough to dodge and some were knocked over by larger chunks of roof.
 

In a momentary lull, Luke snatched the front door open and fell through into the dark, clean air. Krystal was right behind him, gasping and dropping to her knees on the front path. He hauled her up, ignoring the burning in his shoulder. The zombies were closing, and the leader he’d seen from the window came running around the corner of the house, making a sound like a sea lion barking.
 

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