Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Read online

  ‘Birth? But she hasn’t been exposed, how is she—?’

  He walked around them and stared at the woman, finally seeing the huge belly and the blood pooling around her knees. ‘What happened?’

  Luke patted him on the shoulder and the sound of guns being raised was horribly loud. Alex tapped Luke on the shoulder. ‘Easy now, they’ve got guns.’

  ‘You think?’ He nodded at the bloody tear in his sleeve where the bullet had caught him. He turned to the robe. ‘She’s giving birth to the child of a demon. How does that fit into your plans?’

  Etienne walked around behind her and his face went as white as his robes. ‘In the name of the Lord, was is it?’

  The woman screamed louder this time and the sound ended with an exhalation as though it was her last. Alex rushed around behind her and saw something bloody drop to the stone. The woman fell onto her side, weeping, blood still streaming from her. Alex stared at the thing lying on the concrete. It was red. Was it the blood or something else? He couldn’t get close enough to check.

  He took the easy way out and went to her, kneeling and cradling her head on his lap. He watched as her eyes dimmed.

  ‘Where is it, where’s my child?’

  ‘I, ah, I…’

  He was saved by saying more by a sound like an explosion that made the huge tent ripple and snap. Wind blasted through his hair and the soldiers rocked on their feet. Luke spun and stared over Alex’s head into the darkness that lay beyond the woman. Alex didn’t see what emerged from there, but judging by the look on Luke’s face, he could guess.

  The robe’s words confirmed it. ‘What is this? Begone, beast, begone from the house of the Lord.’

  Alex watched Az emerge from the shadows. He was huge, far larger than he remembered from their meeting with the Father. His hair was longer also, long shaggy locks of burnt-red fur cascading across his muscled body. His feet clicked on the floor and Alex twisted further to see his cloven hooves.

  Az laughed, sounding like a pipe emptying. ‘Begone? Does anyone really use that language anymore? Come on fella, it’s the 21st century, catch up.’

  Etienne shook, backing away as Az strode past the woman and the bundle of blood on the floor that was his child. He growled and flicked his head and Etienne gasped, jumping away. Az chuckled and looked around, apparently noticing Luke for the first time. He spread his arms wide.

  ‘Luke. Well, this is unexpected. You got your claws in quick enough.’

  ‘I was here for another reason. We happened upon her just as we were leaving. What are you doing, Az? Why did you betray me?’

  ‘That’s all you can think of to ask, while my firstborn lies on the floor of the greatest church in England.’

  ‘I’ve got a lot of questions.’

  ‘And they can all wait. I have something to attend to.’

  He turned his shoulder to Luke and knelt beside the child. He was close enough for Alex to smell the mix of human sweat and animal musk that made him dizzy. A huge tongue snaked clear of Az’s mouth and licked his baby. As he cleaned it, Alex stared, growing sicker by the minute.

  It was human, though its face was already far more advanced than a new born. But red fur covered it and a tiny pair of horns stood proud on its head. It was a mutant, strange and twisted and frightening. Az put his hands beneath it, oddly gentle, and lifted it.

  He smiled down at it, tongue disappearing for the moment. Then his smile changed, the corners of his mouth turning down until his long low incisors poked free. His forehead creased and his head shook.

  Alex looked at the woman and moaned. Her eyes were open and staring and very dead. He rested her head gently on the floor before scampering away and getting to his feet.

  He stared at the creature in Az’s arms. He couldn’t use the word baby. His breath caught in his throat and he joined Az in shaking his head. The baby was changing, its eyes sinking into its head and its face becoming pale and cracking as the plague took hold.

  The baby twisted and sunk newly yellow teeth into Az’s arm. The demon howled, a sound dragged from the depths of hell and just as frightening. He threw his child from his arms and it landed on the stone, twisting and scrabbling to its feet. Alex scrambled backwards, landing on his arse but only feeling the hurt in an abstract way.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off it, but he also couldn’t ignore the look on Az’s face. The cocky pride that had been there only moments ago was gone, replaced by… what? He was broken, his features crumbling, his mouth wobbling. Seeing a demon cradle its newborn child was strange, but seeing one close to tears was far stranger.

  Alex glanced at Luke and saw something similar there. Az betrayed him but he clearly hadn’t forgotten their friendship. It wasn’t difficult to feel for him, though. Az’s face was expressive, every line carrying the pain of his newly-dead child. Alex swallowed the lump in his throat.

  ‘ABOMINATION. KILL IT!’

  Etienne’s cry shook him from the moment and he scrambled away as gunfire rattled through the cathedral. Fragments of stone leapt from the ground and struck him. He rolled over and covered his face, shoving himself with his feet across the floor. Luke hit the ground beside him.

  ‘Shit, they’re bloody shooting at us.’ Luke gasped

  ‘For an angel you have a remarkable grasp of the basics in life.’

  ‘Very funny. I’m the one with a bullet in my arm.’

  ‘Oh god, I’d forgotten. Are you alright?’

  ‘Actually, it’s strangely numb, so I can’t feel anything right now.’

  ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘Oh.’

  The creature was on the move, scrambling across the floor like a dog with short legs, its claws scratching and slipping. The bullets flew around it but as yet it was untouched. Then it got its balance and shot away from its dead mother. It hurtled across the chamber and leapt at one of the soldiers, landing on his face and knocking him to the ground.

  Blood burst from the wound and the gas mask fell aside as it jumped off and scrabbled into the darkness.

  ‘Where the hell’s it going?’

  Luke shook his head. ‘No idea, but away from us so that’s a plus. We should leave.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Exactly now. Come on.’

  They scrambled to their feet. Az was nowhere to be seen and all that remained was the creature’s mother, face down with her dress covering her and the pool of blood beginning to dry. The blood gleamed beneath the dim lighting and was accompanied by the faintest scent of rot. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and followed Luke across the cathedral.

  Jackson

  He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because Mam was there, holding his hand. She’d never held his hand, even when she walked him to school.

  Now they were walking to church. She’d never taken him to church either. She had her own church at home. She always knew what to say, far better than any preacher or vicar. Mam was the only person he knew to heckle at church. Now, though, her dry, warm fingers were wrapped around his and her stumpy legs matched his as they strolled through Leyton.

  The church was huge, far larger than he remembered, and had a dome on top. It was, he realised, the dome of St Paul’s, and that made perfect sense right now. The sun was dropping behind it and as they walked into the shadow cast by the huge tower, the temperature dropped and he shivered.

  They entered and were presented with a sea of faces, every one of them children. They stared at him and for a moment he could no longer feel Mam’s hand. He clutched at it and it came back, but his heart beat fast in his chest. The children were still staring and in a moment he was no longer a child.

  He towered above Mam and as he looked down on the faces, he felt the hate in their eyes. He ran a shaking hand through his beard and swallowed. They took a step forward.

  ‘Mam?’

  ‘Yes, honey.’

  She’d never called him honey.

  ‘Don’t let them hurt me.’

  ‘It ain’t up
to me. It’s up to God, you know that, honey.’

  ‘He won’t let them hurt me, will he?’

  ‘I don’t know. Listen, what is he telling you?’

  Jackson listened. He stared at the kids and listened with all his might, but all he could hear was their hatred and the thick breathing of the woman beside him. Nothing. God didn’t want to speak to him.

  He woke, eyes popping open and closing again as the light clawed its greedy way in. His breathing was loud and for a second he thought it was the children. He blinked a few times and groaned. Mam had never called him honey. But she was fading already, along with the children. Except their eyes. They were as fresh in his mind as though they stood right in front of him.

  He closed his eyes and listened, awake but still hoping. What did God want him to do? He knew he wanted him to stop the zombies and end the plague. He knew that more strongly than he had ever known anything. But how and who with? That remained a mystery, shrouded in the silence that filled his mind.

  He was in a solid white room, strip lights blaring at him. He lay on a bed, single like those that contained the ladies in the tent. In fact, he may as well have been in the tent, for all the white surrounding him. But the walls were solid and spoke to him no more than God did.

  He sat, stretched, and rubbed his head where the gun had hit him. They said they didn’t trust him. Did they really need to knock him out? He’d have done exactly the same. He swung his legs off the bed and stood. He rolled his head, stretching his neck to a series of satisfying clicks. He felt groggy. How long had he been asleep?

  He tried the door and got nothing. He tried harder and got the same response. Damn them, he only wanted to help. He pictured the woman in the bed, her breast soft and yielding beneath his hand. He wanted to help. He wanted to battle the zombies and he wanted to repopulate the world. A world filled with tiny Jacksons. That was what God wanted. Why else keep him alive when all around him were dying?

  He sat back against the bed and waited. There was no hurry. The zombies weren’t going anywhere and neither were the women. He didn’t have long to wait.

  The door clicked open and a man in a grey robe entered, gas mask strapped to his face. He nodded superficially to Jackson and stayed by the door, arms folded.

  ‘You want to help?’

  ‘I do. I am chosen by God. How long have I been asleep?’

  ‘About twelve hours. You were tired.’

  ‘You knocked me out.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Jackson. I was a criminal. I was evil, then an angel showed me the way and now I work for God.’

  ‘So you say. Prove it to me.’

  ‘Take off your gas mask.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘There’s your proof. I’ve been saved for the sole purpose of defeating the zombies and bringing new life to Earth. That’s why I’m here and there’s only one who could have done this. I’m chosen, deal with it.’

  The man raised his eyebrows and nodded reluctantly. ‘That’s as maybe. Why do you want to join us?’

  ‘You’re the soldiers of God, right?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Well then.’

  The man stared at him, as though expecting more. Jackson stared right back and waited.

  ‘Come with me.’

  They left the room and walked down a narrow corridor, all white. At the end the man stepped straight through the wall and he followed, out into St Paul’s. They made a bee line for the tent but walked across the front of it instead of going in. On the far side was another tent, much smaller and dark grey in colour.

  The man stopped at the front and cleared his throat.

  ‘Commander, I have the black man.’

  Jackson blinked, not quite believing what he heard. From within the tent a jovial voice requested he be sent in. The man stepped to the side and weathered Jackson’s glare as he stalked past and into the tent.

  Within sat a man in a pure white robe, smile lifting his cheeks where they emerged from his gas mask. ‘Welcome, please sit down’

  Jackson stared at him for a moment. The guy was white bread in every way. He’d never done a day’s work in his life and he’d never had to try for anything. His hands would be soft. He stepped up to the desk and stuck his hand out. The man looked at it like it was going to bite him, then took it, shaking with a predictably weak wrist.

  Jackson sneered and sat. ‘You’re very confident, letting me in here all alone.’

  Another smile. ‘I am protected by the Lord.’

  ‘Funny, that’s what your man outside said. So how come you’re wearing a gas mask?’

  The robe frowned, just a little, and it was Jackson’s turn to smile. ‘Tell you what. How about we count up all the people in here who ain’t wearing gas masks and get them to take charge. Because if you were really protected by the Lord, you wouldn’t need it. Tell you what, why don’t you take it off right now and we’ll see just how much God loves you.’

  He sat forward as he spoke, putting his hands on the desk. The man backed away, pushing his chair until it caught on a stone and almost tipped over. Jackson sat back down, grinning, showing teeth. ‘Yeah, what I thought. Think you might need some help here. I’ve been chosen and if you’re really lucky, I’ll let you help me.’

  The man settled himself, patting his legs and smoothing his robes down. ‘We will, of course, welcome any help you can offer. But as to you taking charge, I really cannot allow that. You have no idea of the bigger picture here and I fear you aren’t the sort to understand even were I to explain it.’

  Jackson nearly hit him. Arrogant bastard. Instead he rocked back on his chair and raised an eyebrow. ‘Why don’t you explain it? Tell me your big plans and we’ll see whether I can handle them.’

  The man stood and walked past Jackson to the entrance. He muttered something to the man outside and came back in. When he sat, his brow was furrowed and his eyes were burning. He leant forward and placed his arms on the desk. ‘My name is Etienne. We have been planning this for a very long time.’

  ‘Looks like it. Where d’you get the plague?’

  Etienne’s face lit up. ‘Now that is the most remarkable thing of all. It came to us, fully formed and perfect for our plan only weeks ago. We were preparing to use something else, something far less effective. But this was perfect.’

  ‘Where’d it come from?’

  ‘We stole it from the government. They would have used it to make war and spread fear. Now there is no war, no fear. There is no hunger, no famine, no misery. There is only us.’

  He leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. It wasn’t, Jackson noticed, in the least bit fat. The robes concealed it, but this guy was tough, big shoulders and strong forearms where they peeked free of his sleeves. Was the hand shake just a front?

  ‘So you’ve stopped all fear and pain. Well done. What next?’

  ‘In the tent outside… well, you’ve already seen it I believe. In that tent are the brightest and most beautiful of God’s children. They have been… harvested and brought into the fold. We are waiting now for the plague to clear, to dissipate enough for us to relinquish our gas masks. Once that happens we can begin to repopulate the world.’

  ‘The world? So you’ve done this other places too?’

  ‘Everywhere God holds sway and even the places where they do not yet know him. It had to be everywhere or it wouldn’t work. While there was government anywhere on Earth, there would be someone to fight back and a return to the fear.’

  ‘Aren’t you the government now, though?’

  ‘We aren’t government. Rulers are not needed when God’s love shines on all. All men are equal—’

  ‘Which explains the different colour robes.’

  ‘The robes are sigils, signs of the each man’s role in the new world. They no more confer importance than name or skin colour.’

  ‘But he still called me ‘the black man’.’

  ‘You are rare amon
g the soldiers here in England. In America and Africa you would blend in, one of the flock. But here, we are a mostly white congregation.’

  Jackson nodded and sniffed. No surprise there. ‘That ain’t the most complex of plans, you know. I think I could run that one.’

  ‘So what should we do now? The plague is not yet gone but our ladies in waiting must awaken soon and take on food.’

  ‘So? Wake them up, give them food and put them back to sleep. But hey, they can do their job with the gas masks on. So can you.’

  Etienne’s face paled slightly and he shook his head. ‘I won’t be taking a role in that part of the plan. That is for the young men who have been checked and tested. Speaking of which, if you wish to be a part of it, you too must undergo testing.’

  ‘You don’t need to test me, I can get it up.’

  ‘The testing isn’t for that. It is to ascertain whether you have any genetic defects or diseases that may be transferred to your child.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with my genes.’

  ‘That’s very reassuring, but you will still have to be tested.’

  Jackson sniffed again and folded his arms. ‘Didn’t answer my question. Why not just get on with it, gas masks and all?’

  ‘That isn’t how the Lord would wish it. These are the first children to be born into this world.’ He stopped and looked at his hands. Jackson saw that they were shaking. He was gripping the edge of the desk like he was about to fall off the floor.

  ‘What?’

  Etienne shook his head. ‘Nothing. We had an incident while you slept. It’s nothing.’ He cleared his throat. ‘These are the first children to be born into the new world and they must be the result of true unions, unions of love and tenderness.’

  ‘Hang on. These women you got. Did they volunteer for this?’

  ‘Some. A few. Most were… convinced.’

  ‘Then there’s no way there’s to be any ‘tenderness in these unions’. You’ll be lucky if your soldier boys don’t get their dicks bitten off.’