Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (6 page)

She’d stopped, forgetting the first rule he’d taught her and already there were two zombies coming at her from behind. He pointed and she jumped, checking over her shoulder before hastily getting her bike moving. She was in time, though only just, and turned as he came past her. They raced together back to Embankment and around the front of the Houses of Parliament.
 

He glanced at the huge building as they rode past. It was beautiful. And it was filled with zombies in suits. He wondered whether they were still in session, sitting in their silly chamber shouting, or growling at one another. He cracked a grin as they headed past and up to Lambeth Bridge.
 

It was considerably quieter as they powered over the river. Krystal looked comfortable on the bike, just as she looked comfortable with the sword in her hand. She was wobbly in execution, but that would come soon enough. Between her, Bayleigh and Jackson, they had a half-decent chance of dealing with any zombies that attacked them on the journey out of town.
 

He hadn’t discussed the entire plan with them yet. It meant more discourse and he couldn’t be doing with that. He knew what they needed to do and the endless discussion was tiresome. He was hoping the ladies would agree with him and the others would just be carried along.
 

On the other side of the river they picked up the A2 and opened the throttles. The cars were piled thickly all the way down, crash after crash. This was something he still hadn’t figured out abut their escape. Every major road out of London would be crammed, and getting a vehicle big enough to hold everyone would make it tough to get through.
 

On the bikes, it was a pleasure weaving through the cars. He lost himself in the movement, feeling how every lean transferred through the bike and into the wheels. He’d seen surfing and imagined it would feel like this, but never riding a bike. They never mentioned this sort of thing in the Flights.
 

He was so intent on the movement, he didn’t see the zombie until way too late. It was leaning out of a car window, trapped but eager for freedom. The bike snapped off both arms and tore its head off, but the impact sent Luke flying.
 

He flew off the bike, over the bonnet of the next car along, and slammed into the rear window of the next. The gentle thud as an arm followed him over made his stomach turn as his head threatened to cave in. He heard the distant screech of tires as Krystal stopped, before the corners of his vision went dark.
 

He curled up on the floor, gripping his bruised skull, and lost himself in the hammering that made him want to vomit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Five minutes ago he’d been criticising Krystal for not focusing and here he’d done exactly the same thing.
 

The pain lessened enough for him to sit up and be grateful there’d been no zombies near enough to take advantage. He blinked, looked around, and his heart jumped into his mouth like a stupid angel taking a swan dive off a motorbike. A zombie’s face was pressed up against the window less than two feet from where he sat. Its lips were bared, exposed by cracked lips pulled back far enough for him to see the gums.
 

Its teeth clicked against the window and he shoved himself back until he bumped into the car behind. He sneered and rose to his feet, embarrassed at his most human emotion yet. He’d come here a month ago ready to cause havoc and now he was scampering from a zombie that couldn’t even hurt him. He was weak and growing weaker every second.
 

A motorbike gunned next to his ear and he jumped again. Krystal was on her knees, hands tiny against the handlebars of the BMW he was riding. But the engine was ticking over. ‘Thanks.’

‘You alright?’

‘I feel stupid, but yes, I’m okay. There’s one you’ll have to deal with before we get moving.’

He nodded past her and noticed the tight grin of anticipation on her face. He was also pleased to see her hand go straight to her sword. The zombie clambered over one of the cars towards the channel in which they both sat. Krystal stepped to meet it and as it put its hands on the bonnet, she hacked straight through both arms.
 

The creature fell straight forward, and ploughed face first into the car. He winced at the sound of its teeth shattering against the metal. It tumbled to the floor head first and Krystal buried the point of her sword in its head then yanked it out. She wiped the blade clean and sheathed it, then turned to him.
 

‘What?’ She asked.

He moderated his grin. ‘Good job.’

She beamed. ‘Thanks.’

She scampered back to her bike and mounted. He watched her for a moment, wondering why he felt pride. Why did he feel any of these things? She was nobody, one in billions… maybe that was it. She wasn’t one in billions any more, not even one in millions. They’d done some rough calculations and figured the entire population of the Earth to be somewhere around a few thousand.

Of those, more than half were young, innocent women looking forward to a future of enforced child birth. The rest were soldiers or leaders of the soldiers, none of whom were people he’d trust to run anything, least of all Earth. So Krystal was, in many ways, the hope for the future. He chuckled and mounted his bike.
 

He followed Krystal back out onto the road and they sped down the A2. He kept his focus, despite the wind whipping his jacket and the beautiful lines he found between the cars.

There was a surprising lack of destruction on the ride. There were a few buildings where electrics had gone and fires started, but nothing had spread. Alex was confident there would be more destruction in time, as gas pipes eroded or backed up. There would be explosions and fires, neither of which would be good for zombies or humans. Getting out into the country was the only sane thing to do.
 

He laid on the gas and pushed past Krystal then guided her up a slip road. A petrol station sat at the top and he pulled in.
 

They’d planned this and Krystal went straight up to the shop. She parked her bike and scampered through the electric doors. She knelt and pressed the
lock open
button before heading for the desk. The clerk emerged from behind some racks, reaching for her, and Luke bit his tongue.
 

It was more difficult than he’d expected, watching in silence and unable to do anything. But she was already moving, dashing back around the aisle and drawing her sword from its sheath. She disappeared from view and the zombie lumbered around to the front door in pursuit. There was a flash of steel and the clerk’s head, still wearing its cap, flew out of the open doors and bounced across the forecourt.
 

Moments later there was a clunk from the pump beside him as Krystal activated it. He stayed on his bike until she came out and stood near him, sword in both hands, rocking gently on the boles of her feet. She was a natural, just as he’d known. Where did his instincts come from? It could have been the millennia in hell, judging the sort of people who made attacking others a lifestyle choice. He certainly knew bad when he saw it.

He filled up the bike, rolled hers over, and did the same. Then they were back on the road, heading away from the main road and through a housing estate. The other side devolved into an industrial park watched over by the largest warehouse he’d ever seen. The car park ran along the back of the vast stone building where over thirty huge trucks were backed up to storage bays. He and Krystal drove around to the front and found an open door.
 

Luke squeezed in with his bike and Krystal followed. A small corridor led them back into a space large enough to fit a football field. Vast shelving units ran in rows all the way down the building, covered in shrink-wrapped pallets of food. He got back on his bike and they cruised down the first aisle.
 

Krystal opened her visor. ‘It’s like browsing at the largest supermarket in the world.’

‘Only we have no idea what we’re looking at.’ In most cases, the food was obscured by the shrink wrap, identified by a tiny white label stuck to each pallet. They neared the end of the aisle and slowed. ‘Do we need to open something and check its useful?’ she asked.

Luke nodded, checked around him, and stopped the bike. He’d expected zombies, packers and whoever else would have been working here, but the place was deserted. He didn’t believe that for a moment, but there were definitely none in the vicinity. He drew his sword and cut open the shrink wrap, exposing a wall of tins of baked beans.
 

Krystal sighed, climbing off her bike to run a gloved hand over the tins. ‘Do you have any idea what I’d have given for this in the last three years?’

‘That makes me sadder than anything else you’ve told me about being homeless.’

‘I didn’t think you got sad?’

‘It’s a rather annoying habit I’ve been developing. I’m really not happy about it.’

Krystal laughed, crossed the aisle, and opened another pallet. This one contained cardboard boxes filled with gravy thickener. Her sword sliced straight through some of the boxes as she cut the wrap and yellow powder streamed out onto the floor. She giggled and took another swipe, sending powder flying into the air.
 

Luke turned away. She should be allowed a bit of fun. He wandered around the side of the aisle and stopped dead. What was that? He waited, ears pinned back, and it came again.
 

‘Shush, be quiet a minute.’

Krystal stopped, heeding the tone of his voice. They stood, her with her sword half-raised until the sound came again. It sounded like laughter, only clogged and thick. There were demons who laughed like that. They didn’t really know why they were doing it, but they’d learnt it from the people they tortured in Hell and discovered very quickly it was a distinctly unpleasant sound.
 

He paced silently, raising his sword. His ankle ached from his desperate running to catch Krystal in St Paul’s but it stayed solid. Krystal followed, even quieter than he was. Another trait picked up on the streets, perhaps.

He tracked the sound to a door in one side of the warehouse so they sneaked across and peered in through the frosted, fire-reinforced windows. Three zombies sat in a circle on the floor around a low table. In the centre of the table was a packet of white powder with a hole dug in the top. Every now and then, one of the zombies would head butt the bag and stuff their nose or tongue in, emerging with white powder caked across their face.
 

‘That’s drugs.’ Krystal muttered.

Luke looked at her, eyebrow raised, and she nodded. ‘That’s coke, or speed maybe. They’re doing bloody drugs.’

She covered her mouth and he realised she was laughing. He looked back into the room and had to admit it looked funny. They were taking turns to burst out laughing in that thick, mucus-laden way after they hit the bag.
 

‘Should be easy to kill then. Ready?’

She nodded, sniggered, and raised her sword. He pulled the door slowly open and the smell hit him. He staggered away, clamping his hand over his mouth and nose. Krystal retched, leant over, and spat bile to the floor. It was zombie smell amplified by four days of being shut in a small room. It was worse than that though, something else mingling with the putrescent flesh.
 

He took a breath and moved back to the open door. That was when he saw the pile. Other zombies had been stacked up in the back corner of the room. He could make out head wounds, where something hard had been used to smash in their skulls. An arm trailed from the pile, gnaw marks clear on the skin, but still ripe with flesh.
 

They had killed the other zombies and stashed them here. Why? He shook his head and took a step into the room, readying his sword. The zombie facing towards them spotted him and hissed. The others stopped their strange barking and turned, growling. This needed to be fast. He took a step forwards and the zombies reacted.
 

His eyes widened, but not as quickly as they attacked. The nearest came off its seat and covered the gap between them before he even began to react. It slammed into him and knocked him off his feet. He landed on his elbows, biting his lip as he slammed into the floor, and blood flooded his mouth.
 

The zombie thrashed and writhed atop him, hands grabbing and tearing at him. Its teeth smashed together inches from his face and sweat broke out on his scalp. He tried to think logically, to approach it sensibly, but its breath crept up his nose and he freaked out, slamming his knees into it and wriggling around. The zombie clung on as he panted and it was all he could do to keep it from eating his face. Again and again it slammed its mouth closed inches from his face, spraying him with filthy saliva.
 

He was going to die. The thought hadn’t ever occurred to him before, not once in thousands of years of life. He was going to die.
 

The zombie opened its mouth wide and bore down.
   

Jackson

Jackson sneaked into reception, taking note of the four bodies on the floor. Someone had been busy. Maybe Alex had finally grown some balls. He grinned. If he had, taking the device had been just the right thing to do. He dumped it in the drawer and headed back to the doors.
 

The zombies had formed their perimeter line outside. He’d need to be beyond that to make this worthwhile. He climbed back in the van and revved the engine. Stupid things didn’t even notice until he put his foot down and shot straight for them. Most staggered out the way but he got two and felt their skulls break open against the bumper. Blood flicked up onto the windscreen and he nodded righteously.
 

He watched in the wing mirrors as the others fell on them and started to feast. He weaved down the street. Why couldn’t the damned plague have happened on a Sunday? The city would have been clear of cars, instead of lousy with them. Had Luke even thought about how they were gonna get a bus through all this? Probably not. Bloody amateur.