Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (13 page)

Bang, the room illuminated for a few seconds, people screaming, and then Winter heard fire crackling. It was five past four in the morning.

              Groggy with sleep, but beginning to feel panicked, Winter closed her eyes against the flashing blue lights outside, swirling around and around, reflecting in the window. She rubbed her eyes, pulled on her ruined designer dress and went to stand up.

              A bang downstairs made her stop. Something threw itself against the diner.

              The door opened and Winter screamed, expecting the worst, but Violet stood in the doorway looking pale.

              Connor sat up, looking around the room in confusion.

              “Have you looked outside?” Violet whispered.

              Winter shook her head. “Have you?”

              Violet shook her head.

              Standing up, Winter walked slowly towards the window. She could imagine what was going on without even looking.

              As she got to the window, her heart dropped and her whole body was gripped with fear.

              Numerous police cars and vans parked in the roads. At one end of the street zombies were attacking the buildings, ripping flesh from recent victims, while on the other side police officers and a number of town’s people were behind shields. The newsagent was on fire. Some police officers, dressed in riot gear, had guns raised; some even had flame torches in their hands. Other police officers were interviewing the residents that were in nightwear, rubbing their arms in a bid to stop their shivering, on the safety side. Winter noticed army vans parked with the police cars, some survivors from the buildings inside. Printed on the army vans was ‘Evacuation Squad – NWO’.

Since Winter had been asleep, the town had been ruined. Many windows were smashed, both upstairs and down. Bodies littered the street and flames destroyed houses. Doors had been ripped off their frames and in the houses that were behind the shield; many people sat in each other’s arms, weeping hopelessly. Winter observed as families tried to escape, bullets were fired, but it was no use. The zombies moved with surprising speed and pinned the human bodies to the floor before devouring their flesh without any thought.

              “We need to leave,” Connor said. He had come to the window in only his boxers and was staring at the street in fear. “We have to get into one of those evacuation vans.”

              One of the evacuation vans reversed out of its parking space and sped up the street and away from view. The people inside the cage at the back of the van watched as their old lives left them behind.

              Connor was getting dressed when Winter turned around, and Violet was holding her gun. Winter picked up the table leg that she had scavenged from her home.

              “What is that green smoke?” Winter asked, turning back to the window.

              Connor and Violet came up behind her and peered over her shoulder.

              “The zombies aren’t going near it.” Violet noted.

              “It’s flickering, though,” Connor said. “I don’t think it’s going to hold them off for long.”

              Winter turned back to the room and began to pace. Violet and Connor watched her, waiting for her orders on what to do.

              “You two wait here.” Winter told them.

              “What?” Connor gasped.

              “You’re going to leave us here?”

              Winter shook her head. “I’m going to go outside and see what’s going on. I’ll see if we can get away on one of those vans. Just wait here, keep an eye out for me.”

              Before Violet or Connor could object, Winter left the room. She got to the bottom of the steps, slipping on her Converse shoes, and moved the barricade of chairs aside. Walking into the diner, the bangs Winter had heard earlier were clearer. They were coming from the kitchen, and Winter feared that the zombies had gotten in. Peering past the mountain of piled furniture, Winter saw the zombies were throwing themselves against the kitchen door that led outside, evidently smelling the scent from the dead waitress.

              Turning away, feeling slightly apprehensive that the zombies would break in through the kitchen, Winter walked to the front door. She peered outside and saw that the police were blocking the street a shop down from the diner. Winter was relieved to find they were on the safe side for now. But if the zombies got through, they’d be the first in danger.

              Her eyes drifted to the flat opposite them. The curtains had moved slightly, but were still shut.

              She unlocked the diner door and walked out into the chaotic street, full of survivors, police officers and evacuation squad team members.

              Winter was watched by a police officer holding a torch. He took in her appearance, possibly wondering if she was a threat. Winter spotted a policewoman stood behind an open car door, her gun raised and aimed at the zombies. All that stopped the dead from getting to the living was the green smoke coming from a small container, just in front of the police barricade.

              “What’s going on?” She asked. “Why are they divided? Why aren’t they attacking?”

              “That thing you see in the middle of the street is a zombie repellent, if you will. We’ve been given these by the government for a while now. It seems the government always knew this was coming, but instead decided to hush it up. If they hadn’t we’d be out of this mess by now,” the police officer said. She had her eyes fixed on the zombies intently. “The gas emitted burns the zombie’s flesh, and the zombies get away from it. It holds them off but they won’t do much longer. The zombies are multiplying. The people dead in the street will become zombies themselves. Some people on this side have been bitten.”

              Winter looked around them. She spotted a woman hugging a man, his arm exposed with a red bite mark, a first aid trainee tending to it.

              “You need to get those bitten on the other side,” Winter said quickly.

              “We can’t do that.”

              “If they stay here, they’re going to turn, and then you haven’t got a safe side anymore. Why aren’t you shooting? You need to kill those! Don’t wait for them to come closer.”

              “If we fired now, they would come charging, regardless of what was stopping them.”

              Winter looked up at the flat above. The curtains were drawn to reveal the woman Winter had waved at a few nights ago. She looked tired and ill.

              “What about the other end of the street?” She asked, her eyes lingering on the vacant woman in the window. “Why can’t we go that way, leave those zombies where they are?”

              The policewoman finally looked at her. A flash of recognition came over her young face, “That’s been blocked up, too. We just want to get these away. The only vehicles being allowed to leave are the evacuation vans. You should get yourself on one.”

              Winter eyed the bitten man again. He was shaking now, pale. Before she could tell the police officer, she began to talk again.

              “Have you thought about evacuating, Winter?”

              Winter didn’t ask how she knew her name. She shrugged. “Eventually. I just want to help the best I can.”

              “You’d help by getting out of here. Too many people are trying to stay, hoping this will blow over but it definitely will not. We’re losing numbers of ships that can come and go and the wait is too long at the docks. You’d be best to go now before the ships stop running at all. You don’t want to be one of the only survivors that gets left behind now, do you?”

              Winter just nodded. She had time, but how much of it she didn’t know.

              “Tell me, what’s with the flames in torches that some of these officers are holding?”

              “Flames prove effective against zombies. They’re destroyed easily. Bullets, too, although it does take more than one bullet.”

              “A shot through the head knocks them down,” Winter said.

              “Thanks for the tip.”

              “Is there anything I can do now?”

              The policewoman shook her head. “You don’t need to speak to anyone, do you? Go back inside, wait until morning then leave this street. It’s not safe anymore.”

              Winter nodded. “This is horrible.”

              “Indeed it is,” The woman nodded. “Stay safe.”

              “You too.”

              Winter turned to leave, but her eye was caught by the evacuation van. Pale survivors eyed her, scared and lost. A woman wept in one corner. As she approached, a man in a white cotton shirt and black trousers stepped out, a blue scarf around his neck.

              “Got any room?” Winter asked.

              The man consulted a note pad. He walked around to the side of the van and looked in the cage, where waiting evacuees sat.

              “About five more spaces available,” the man said.

              Winter heard a knock on the window above her. She turned around and saw Violet glaring at her, her look telling her that she would not be getting on an evacuation van.

              “I’ll be back,” Winter said. The man in the van just shrugged.

              Winter began walking towards the diner when the sound of glass smashing pierced the air. Winter looked up in time to see a man leaping out of the flat opposite the diner, the one Winter had been watching regularly. The one where the woman had been only moments before, but now was nowhere to be seen. The man landed on the police cars below, screeching, his mouth dripping blood. He turned his head to the policeman next to him and took a chunk out of his cheek, drawing blood. The policeman screamed out in pain as bullets were turned to the zombie on the car. Some of the police in riot gear turned their shields around, and Winter noticed the zombies on the other side saw an opportunity. Defences were weak.

              They ran past the green smoke as if it were nothing. They leapt at people and threw them to the floor. People scattered into their houses; some were lucky while others weren’t. Police officers began to fight as they lost control. The woman Winter had been talking to was now ordering other officers with instructions. Suddenly, the whole street was full of the flesh eaters.

              Winter bolted. She forgot about the table leg she held, only intent on getting back into the diner before it was too late. If any of the zombies broke in, Violet and Connor would be stuck.

              Winter was close to the diner when a zombie was in front of her. She swung the table leg around and caught the zombie through the chest. It screamed at her, and Winter let go of the weapon, throwing it away from her in the hopes it would give her enough time to get back into the diner.

              A police officer ordered her to leave as he shot at the zombie. Winter didn’t need telling twice. She turned and ran back to the diner; opening the door she had foolishly forgot to lock.

              She was halfway through locking it when weight on the other end began pulling it away from her. She had no idea if zombies were fighting to open the door, or if it was a survivor who needed safety. She didn’t have time to see. With all the strength she could muster, she pulled it back towards her. With relief she felt it lock. She breathed heavily as the zombies threw themselves against the window, snarling.

              Listening to the screams and commotion outside made her sick. She pushed the tables they had been using to block the door against it once more, before turning to make her way upstairs.

              “Winter!” Violet called from upstairs.

              “It’s me.” Winter called back, speeding up after she heard a particularly loud bang from the window behind her.

              She got to the stairway, shut the door and piled up the furniture once more. Heading up the stairs, she spotted Violet and Connor looking at her, both pale.

              “You idiot,” Connor muttered. “You could have been killed out there.”

              “We need to go,” Violet said.

              “How?” Connor asked. “How the hell are we going to get out of this?”

              “The roof.”

              Winter looked through the window of the living room, into the flat opposite. A bed had been pulled out, messy and now deserted. Winter thought she could see blood. A small table was piled with medication, a bowl of water and a used flannel. Her heart dropping, Winter saw the woman she had seen only moments before. She lay dead in the hallway. She had been trying to save the man, possibly her husband, unaware that his bite was fatal.

              Just then, they heard a smash downstairs. A cold sweat broke out on Winter’s skin.

              “Did you hear that?” She gasped.

              “Oh fuck.” Violet moaned. “They’re in, aren’t they?”

              They were. The sounds of bodies trying to break down the door leading upstairs reached them.

              “We need to get into one of those vans!” Connor shouted.