Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Read online

  ‘Those bastard soldiers’ trucks. If they’re still hiding inside St Paul’s, couldn’t we just sneak up and grab one. They looked pretty well armoured.’

  ‘Didn’t Jackson blow them up?’

  ‘He blew one up. There were at least three others and they looked fine.’

  ‘Can we fit everyone in one of them?’

  ‘Why don’t we go find out?’

  Bayleigh scowled, eyebrows twitching. Then she nodded. ‘Okay, that sounds like a plan. But we go as carefully as we can.’

  Krystal slid past her and straight through the open hatch, throwing her words back as she went. ‘Have you ever seen me be anything but careful?’

  If there was an answer, she didn’t hear it as she pounded down the aisle of the bus. Her bike was leant up outside and she hit the bottom deck with one hand on the hilt of her sword. The zombies were still surrounding them. Getting onto busses unseen was tricky when you arrived on a motorbike. They’d have to ride double again to get away.

  But at least they were going somewhere. She was so bored of doing the same thing over and over again. This idea might be crazy, but it might just be genius. Bayleigh joined her on the bottom deck.

  ‘Same as last time?’

  Bayleigh nodded and moved to the centre doors. The emergency open button was just above them and she pressed it. The bus hissed and the doors swung aside. The zombies lurched on, dragging others with them. They waited as long as they could before they opened the front doors. The zombies weren’t gone entirely, but there was space now, enough for Krystal to straddle her bike without getting bitten.

  The one zombie near enough to cause problems reacted badly to having its jaw hacked off with a sword and he growled and flapped his arms a bit. Unfortunately for him, he also sprayed enough blood to encourage three of his fellows to fall on him. The first stuck its face straight into his half a mouth and emerged moments later with his tongue flapping from between its teeth.

  She didn’t wait to see the rest. Bayleigh jumped on the back and they were off, veering side to side as they cut through the traffic. It was strange, how little anything had changed. They’d been through so much in the last nine days, yet out here, everything was the same. There were still zombies trapped in their cars, fists bloody from banging on the windows. There was more rubbish, dragged here by the wind and dumped in corners. But it wasn’t any more than she’d seen on a Sunday morning, after the Saturday night piss up laid waste to London.

  They fled the square and charged up The Strand, using the entire street to maintain a decent speed. Soon it narrowed into Fleet street and Krystal slowed the bike. Bayleigh jumped off and raced away, moving faster than Krystal. She moved with such grace, Krystal could happily watch her and not even think about her own driving.

  Fortunately, the street was quiet for zombies. Most of them came into view as the spire of St Paul’s appeared. They were gathered around the cathedral, closer than they had been before. Bayleigh came around in a circle and ran alongside.

  ‘Thought we’d need to sneak up, but doesn’t look like any soldiers are out here.’

  Krystal nodded her agreement and eased around a car before they came back together. The street opened up to the huge courtyard that stood before the cathedral. The zombies were four and five deep, in a massive ring around the church. It was like they knew the people who’d made them were inside. They were halfway up the steps and on the left hand side they were actually touching the wall.

  The vans stood where they had been parked. Even the blackened wreck hadn’t moved. Krystal eased off the throttle, hoping against hope they could get to the trucks without being noticed by the hordes. Her luck was in as she pulled up behind the truck, out of sight of the cathedral and the zombies.

  Bayleigh joined her moments later and they high-fived. Bayleigh tried the door and it opened. With an amazed smile on her face she climbed up into the cab. Then she stopped, her body stiffening. Was there a zombie in there? She was about to ask when someone spoke.

  ‘I know who you are. Are you here to kill me?’

  Krystal backed away, taking slow, silent steps. She reached the corner of the truck and peered round it. The back was flat save a small step halfway between the door and the floor. The zombies were all facing the other way. It was easy, just a few short steps and she’d be in.

  Her hands shook. Just a few short steps. But there were so many zombies. She had to help Bayleigh and it had to be now. She took a deep breath and moved slow, trying to emulate the grace she’d been admiring only a few moments earlier. She reached the door and pulled the handle. Nothing. It didn’t budge. She turned it the other way and tried again. Same deal.

  She hissed through her teeth, trying to get back behind the van with the same calm, slow movements. Her eyes roved constantly over the zombies, waiting for just one to turn and see her. Her heart thumped in her ears, drowning out any sound her trainers might be making on the concrete. Then her back met the corner of the van and she slipped around it.

  She pressed against the cold metal and finally let her breath out, spots appearing before her eyes. She slid up towards the cab, ears twitching.

  ‘You’re welcome to one. Just not mine.’

  ‘Are the others open as well? Are there keys in them?’

  ‘Don’t know, don’t care. Now get out or I will shoot you.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Already told you. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Why are you out here?’

  ‘Get out of my truck.’

  ‘We can help you.’

  There was silence and Krystal nearly filled it by ranting at Bayleigh. They had enough to worry about without inviting others along. The guy clearly had an issue, with all sorts of things.

  ‘You can’t help me.’

  Bayleigh gasped and Krystal’s curiosity get the better of her. She peeked over the top of Bayleigh’s leg and into the truck. The soldier, still dressed in his uniform, was showing Bayleigh something on his arm.

  ‘Why aren’t you dead yet? My friend, when she got bitten, she—’

  Krystal squeezed Bayleigh’s leg. She jumped, glanced down at her, and smiled. The soldier noticed and looked over the top, gun coming first. Krystal stared past the barrel at the man holding it. He looked awful. His eyes were sunken and he was covered in sweat. He grunted at Krystal and sat back in his seat. She checked for zombies while he talked.

  ‘Magic. Etienne got one of the grey robes to do something and it made it go away. But only for a few days. I felt it coming back yesterday. I can’t endanger the others, I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t Etienne do more mojo?’

  The soldier coughed and his cheeks reddened. ‘Etienne’s not really in a fit state for doing much magic.’

  Bayleigh exchanged a look with Krystal, eyebrows raised. ‘How come? What happened to him?’

  The soldier turned away, staring at the cathedral. His voice was quieter and doubtful. ‘We took over. They’ve done nothing but ruin the world and… we didn’t know what was happening, not really. They told us about the ladies, and what we’d be doing, but they left out the details of the plague.’

  He shook his head and turned back. ‘We weren’t putting up with that. So we took over. Some of the grey robes tried some magic so we shot them. The rest are tied up. Etienne…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Some of the guys thought he needed to be taught a lesson.’

  ‘So?’

  The soldier nodded to the cathedral and waved with his hand. ‘Round the side.’

  She didn’t want to see whatever was round the side. In fact, there was nothing she wanted to see less. She rubbed her face and did another zombie check. ‘Any chance we can do something? Little uncomfortable out here.’

  Bayleigh shifted in her seat and nodded. ‘Well, look, are you sure we can’t do anything?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘We could… you know, make sure you go before you change.’

  He laughed a
nd shook his head. The sound came out croaky and he waved his gun before him. ‘Too late for that. I’m well on the way. But I’ve got my gun and I’m taking as many of those bastards with me as I can.’

  ‘So when will that be?’

  His eyes bored into her. ‘You’re asking me when I’m going to kill myself so you can steal my truck.’

  Bayleigh blushed, even her ears going red, and looked at her hands. Krystal stuck her head up. ‘No offence, but it’s way safer for us to use this one instead of running around seeing if the others are open. And if you’re going to die anyway, why not?’

  He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. She thought it was in disbelief rather than any real disagreement. Then he stopped shaking and started nodding. ‘Yeah, true. Only thing is, the only people we hate more than the robes are you lot. If you hadn’t arrived, we’d all be dick deep in beautiful women. So you can fuck right off.’

  He turned away and stared out the window. Bayleigh had jumped at the change in his voice and now she slipped from the van to stand beside Krystal.

  ‘That could have gone better.’ Krystal said.

  Bayleigh gave her a look and pointed at another of the vans. Without waiting for a reply, she dashed across the space in seconds. Krystal stayed put, watching her friend pull on the door. It opened and she climbed up. Moments later, her head stuck out and she waved Krystal over. With a sad look back at her bike, Krystal set off.

  It was further away than Bayleigh had made it look and she’d gone barely ten feet when the door of the van behind her slammed shut. She glanced back. The soldier had closed the passenger door, doing his best to make as much noise as possible. A group of zombies heard the sound, turned, and spotted her.

  Shit. She put her head down and ran faster.

  Jackson

  The night opened wide before him and he dived into it. The sound of flapping wings reached him and he howled in frustration. Az was getting away. The demon was leaving and there was nothing he could do to stop him. He saw the shattered glass pane going past his face and some instinct made him grab for it.

  The back of his right hand struck the edge of the glass and twisted. His fingers closed around the sharp edge and he clung on. His body spun, his feet coming past his head, and in the next second he grabbed the glass with his left hand as well. His fall stopped as his full body weight slammed against the building and the glass cut deep into his fingers.

  His body, bruised and beaten by his fight with the demon, twisted and shook at the end of his arms. His shoulders screamed and he contemplated how it would feel to just let go and fall. He wouldn’t feel the impact. It would happen too quickly. One second he’d be flying and the next he’d land, and all the stress and pain would be gone.

  Blood ran into his eye and he blinked furiously. He wasn’t letting go, not for anyone and certainly not for that red winged bastard. He stared up at his hands, neck aching, and watched the glass turn red. A face appeared above them. Harriet, pale and panicking, reached down to grab his wrist.

  ‘I’ve got you.’

  Stupid bitch. He almost let go so he could cuff her. She didn’t have him any more than Az did. Guilt swept through him but went just as quickly. There would be time for guilt later. Now he just had to stay alive. Other faces appeared, more of the ladies brave enough to get near the window.

  He had to give it to Harriet. She didn’t seem bothered by the enormous drop just beneath him. He glanced down and his stomach jumped up into his mouth. In the darkness, he couldn’t see the floor, and the street lamps were tiny spots of light. He looked back up. Another of the ladies had taken his other wrist and her hand closed around it with surprising strength. Maybe they could pull him up.

  He smirked. Not a chance. ‘Is there a fire hose?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Is there a fire hose anywhere. You can tie that around my arms and something solid in there.’

  ‘But I can’t let you go.’

  He laughed, like there was something funny about it. ‘The glass is halfway through my fingers. I’m not going anywhere, not unless it chops my fingers off.’

  He made it sound as harsh as he could and Harriet blanched, but she kept hold of his wrists. The stronger lady had left as soon as he spoke and now she returned bearing the end of the fire hose. He could have kissed her and happily would as well. She was full-lipped like Harriet, made for kissing. And other things. He couldn’t see her tits from down here, but he’d have a good look soon as he got up.

  She looped the hose around his wrist a few times and tied it off. He nodded, gritting his teeth in a vain attempt to stave off the dizziness that was assailing him. He could see three Harriets, though whether it was down to being beaten shitless, or hanging by his fingers from a window, he couldn’t say.

  ‘What’s it attached to?’

  ‘I wound it round everything I could find. Including a pillar.’

  It would have to do. ‘You can try and pull me up now.’

  It was agonising. Four of them squeezed together and got hold of him. They heaved and he came up a little way before they lost their hold. He dropped back down, the glass cut back into the wounds, and he blacked out. The pain dragged him back just as quick. He growled deep in his throat and bit his lip. ‘Try not to do that again.’

  The ladies nodded nervously and got another hold. This time they hauled him high enough for him to get his elbows over the edge of the floor. He rested on them a second, not looking at his hands. The stronger lady, who he was liking more every second, grabbed the hose and leant out the window. It flapped against his legs before wrapping around them. She waved others over to help her and they pulled his legs slowly up and in.

  They rolled him away from the edge. There were more than just the stronger lady with balls to show. None of them seemed bothered by the wind rushing through the broken window, and none of them balked at his shattered hands. It was what he deserved. He was God’s chosen. But it paid to notice when people stepped up.

  It was the last thing he remembered thinking before he looked at his hand. His two shattered fingers stuck out at horrible angles, bone jutting from one of them. The rest were cut deep across the fattest joint. He tried to move them and the world went away.

  He was in bed. It was a vast improvement to hanging out the window. He was also naked save the massive bandages wrapped around both hands. He remembered the face of the strong lady and smiled. Perhaps she’d undressed him. If she had, it wouldn’t be long before she came calling.

  The door opened and his heart leapt. It was Harriet. She swayed in with enough verve to take his mind off the other lady. She perched on the bed and stroked his face.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘How do you think? My hands are fucked. How are you?’

  ‘Worried.’

  ‘That’s nice—’

  ‘Not about you. Well, I am worried about you, but I mean about us. What was it that you drove out of here?’

  ‘A demon. He’s called Az. He’s an old friend of Luke’s.’

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘Yeah, well, they aren’t friends so much anymore.’

  ‘Will he come back?’

  ‘Dunno. Probably. Where are the women he shagged?’

  She blushed, which was the strangest thing he’d seen in a while. ‘They’re in their rooms. They’re feeling really sick.’

  ‘That figures. Demon cum can’t be good for you.’

  She blushed again and he snorted. ‘What happened to you? When did you get so coy.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not, I’m just… it’s different when it isn’t us. I convinced them to come here and then this happens. It’s my fault.’

  ‘No it’s not. It’s the bloody demon’s fault. But he’s gone and now you’ve all seen his real face. I’d call that a pretty good deal.’

  ‘But what about Sarah and Hayley?’

  ‘What about them? There are always casualties.’

  ‘Casualties. We not fighting a wa
r, Jackson.’

  ‘What? Have you seen the zombies out there? Did you see me fighting that bastard? Course we’re in a war.’

  She turned away and sniffed. Maybe he’d been too harsh, but he didn’t much care. She needed to understand the reality of the situation. He tried to sit up and his chest tightened. He grunted and lay back. She ran her hand down the side of his face again.

  ‘Take it easy. Ella thinks you cracked a rib.’

  ‘Who’s Ella?’

  ‘She’s great. She’s one of the ones who helped—’

  ‘She the one got the hose?’

  Harriet frowned. ‘Yes, that’s her. She’s studying to be a doctor. She sorted your hands for you.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When can I move them and use them?’

  Harriet turned away but he saw the look on her face before she did.

  ‘What, what is it?’

  She took a deep breath and stepped away from the bed. ‘Your right hand has lost two fingers, the ones the demon crushed. The others should work again, but it might take a few weeks before you can really do anything with them.’ She took another breath and Jackson ground his teeth together. ‘Your left hand… most of your weight was on it and… Ella said she could be wrong, but she doesn’t think you’ll use it again.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your fingers. All the nerves and tendons were severed. She doesn’t think you’ll be able to use them again.’

  He clamped his teeth together to try to stop the torrent of a— ‘What the fuck? I’ve lost my hand and you come in here moaning with your fucking self pity. What the fuck is this? What sort of stupid, dumb bitch are you, you stupid c—’

  She struck his left hand and the words became a scream that left him panting and sweating. She leant in close. ‘I’m with you because you are here to lead us in the new world. And I’m with you because you make me feel good. But use that language at me again and we are finished.’

  She stalked from the room and he watched her go, eyes wide open. Then he burst out laughing. He laughed until tears streamed down his face and he started coughing, hacking himself breathless. Finally he subsided and lifted his left hand. Blood was soaking through the bandages. Why were there bandages on there if it was useless? Why didn’t she just chop the damned things off and seal it with fire?