Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (41 page)

              “Violet!” The boy called from upstairs. She didn’t reply. She was just as angry with him as she was Winter Smith. “Violet, where are you?”

              Violet ignored his calls. She wanted him to know she was angry. As far as she was concerned, it was his entire fault they had ended up here, despite being pursued by numerous dead creatures.

              She pulled the blind away from the window and was greeted with a dark garden; very private due to the fact tall trees surrounded it. At the far end of the garden was a sorry looking swing. At one side of the garden was an empty chicken coop, and in the middle of the garden stood an old fashioned bonfire with sticks piled together to form a pyramid.

              “Violet! Come and look at this!”

              She rolled her eyes. He was going to be here whether she liked it or not. She had to talk to him. She had to let him know her ideas.

              She strode out of the kitchen, hoping they had clothes in this house. She had had to run through the streets of London, escaping the dead in nothing but her underwear. It had been so demeaning. It had been so cruel. It was an odd twist of fate that took her back to years on the street and in bedrooms of seedy old men.

              She climbed the steps. They were smooth and made of what she thought was marble. The banister was wooden, as was pretty much everything else in this house, and she noticed it had burn marks on the wood. She got to the landing, full of doors leading into rooms of wealthy sizes. The boy stood in the doorway of a room at the end of the hall, staring at her intently.

              “What?” She asked. She made her tone sound moody, false, annoyed.

              “Come and look at this room,” Zach said.

              He disappeared into the room, and Violet decided she would inspect it. As much as this house was empty and cold, it seemed to intrigue her. Who had lived in a house like this? Noticing the corner of the ceilings, Violet saw they were surrounded with damp. The house seemed to be dying around them. The floors upstairs were uneven, and she had to grip the banister for fear of stumbling.

              She walked into the end room and was thrown by how white everything was. The carpet was white, with sheepskin throws across the floor. The walls were white, except for one, which was plastered with black symbols and writing and drawings. The bed, a king size, sat in the middle of the room propped up by a black, metal frame. The pillows and the blankets were white; except for one corner which had a stain Violet thought looked like blood.

              “Where are the kids?” Violet asked, walking towards one of the two windows in front of her. From where she stood she could see the whole of London. In the distance she could make out the London Eye. It spun so slowly Violet had to stare at it to make sure it really was moving. It was so eerie she felt herself shivering again. Rooftops were ablaze and the odd flash of something else being set alight could be seen. She could also make out the odd street, but because streetlights had gone out not even the rising sun had penetrated the dark yet.

              “They’re in the next room. The rest of the rooms are pretty dark and damp,” Zach said. “And do you feel that chill?”

              Violet glanced at him. He was stood in his underwear and his shirt and looked stick thin and poor. Violet pitied him.

              “Where have we come to?”

              Zach walked to the second window across from Violet and looked down into the street below.

              “Those women look dodgy, don’t they?” Zach remarked.

              Violet knew whom he was talking about. Three women were gathered together outside a shop that was just as dark as everything else. Painted on wood were faded letters Violet could not read, and the door was cast in a shadow and obscured by the women. They were fussing over a book, and one lady held a clear bag full of odd-looking items. They cackled and laughed before they put up their hoods and swept through the street, old-fashioned dresses trailing across the ground.

              “I think they were buying bongs,” Zach said.

              Violet smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised in this street.”

              It was winding and crooked, and it was full of terraced buildings that looked like both house and shop. Wicker baskets hung outside of each shop, but they were empty. However, Violet did notice one shop had a wicker basket that held red roses, and she could just make out a flower display in the front window. Every shop had the same appearance: dark colours painted on wood, and dark, thick windows to stop nosy eyes. It was clear the dead had been here. Despite seeing the women on the street, it seemed like the town was a ghost town, and it looked like death himself had left his touch. These people had evacuated a long time ago. The odd zombie ran down the street in search of a human victim, and blood leaked into the sewers below.

              “I won’t be going out there,” Zach said.

              “You have to. We need clothes and we need food.” Violet snapped.

              “I’m not going out like this.” Zach protested, indicating his appearance.

              “Why not?” Violet grinned. “It’s fun.”

              “Maybe for you, but I don’t find any of this fun. It’s public indecency, that is what it is.”

              “There’s nobody around anyway.”

              “Good, you can go out then.”

              “Where’s the bathroom?”

              “The other end of the hallway,” Zach said.

              “Good. I’ll shower later.”

              Violet turned back to the window to watch the sun pour over the rooftops. “We’re close to the Thames now.”

              She thought she could see it, although she wasn’t sure. She hoped the black mass she could see was a ship waiting for survivors, but again she thought it was her nasty mind tricking her.

              “Don’t you think we should find Winter?” Zach sighed.

              Violet threw him a look she hoped would sting him. “Don’t talk to me about her.”

              “Violet, she didn’t do anything…”

              “She left me on a roof, Zach.” Violet strode back into the room and led down on the bed. “In the pouring rain she just left me there, and she didn’t come back when she saw me fall through.”

              Zach approached the bed and lay down next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Violet didn’t respond at first. She’d let him think she wasn’t interested. But as he began to tickle her stomach, she wrapped her arms around him, too, and placed her head across his chest.

              “She completely switched on me, and I don’t know why.”

              “She thought you pushed me.”

              “Well for her to even think that means she is untrustworthy.” Violet shrugged. “She may have been Winter Smith, celebrity socialite in another life, but in this one she is plain old and boring Winter Smith.”

              “She never was the socialite,” Zach said. “She hated that life.”

              “Are you defending her?” Violet sternly asked.

              “No, of course I’m not. There’s nothing to defend. She did nothing wrong and neither did you. I’m just saying what was obvious.”

              “You could read her, could you?” Violet said, slightly envious.

“Don’t be jealous, Vi. Winter was just a friend, and I’d like her to still be a friend.”

              “Well we probably won’t see her again. I wouldn’t be surprised if she is one of them now.”

              Zach broke away from Violet. He sat at the edge of the bed with his head down, clutching his hands together.

              Looking at him she saw he was just a lonely boy, who was worried and weighed down with the possibility of never leaving London.

              “What’s wrong?” Violet asked, propping herself up with her elbows. She had gone a bit far. She knew she had. She hoped Winter was okay. She didn’t wish death on anybody. Well, not if she could help it…

              “Don’t say stuff like that, Vi. I should have waited for her. I should have brought her with me. I was the one saying we should never split up. And then I just left her there.”

              “You made sure there was nothing there to harm her. She could have followed but she chose not to.”

              “I knew she wasn’t following. I just didn’t care. I wanted to find you. You just kept running. I couldn’t lose you, Violet.”

              “Oh, so this is my fault now, is it?” Violet said with a rising temper. “You think that because I ran, I made you leave Winter behind?”

              “No. No, of course I don’t. I knew you were going to run. I just thought you’d take me with you, and we’d let Winter come, too.”

              “Don’t give me that bullshit, Zach.” Violet stood up and paced the room. “You knew, you fucking knew that when I said I was going to escape I meant without
her.
I want to escape London, not mourn over the loss of a boyfriend she only went on one date with.”

              “I didn’t think you were serious.” Zach muttered. “I didn’t think you’d really want to leave her behind.”

              “I didn’t.” Violet shrugged. “But Zach, look at it this way. She was going to ruin this for us. She was holding us back. I mean, look how far we got without her. We’re in Shepherd’s Bush. We’re not far from the Thames. We’re so close to safety.”

              Zach said nothing. He stayed where he was on the end of the bed, staring at the white floor. The kids in the other room were bickering over something.

              “We only got this far because you ran,” Zach said. “Almost endangering our lives as you did it.”

              It was true. They had been chased. Violet had secretly hoped that the kids would have been caught, so that they were truly left to themselves. She knew that if it were just her and Zach, they would have been out of London a long time ago. Violet couldn’t die here. This country had punished her. Her whole old life was here, and if she died then what was she worth? She had to get out of London, and she had to start her new life, and if that meant getting rid of the ones that slowed her down so be it. She had let go of Winter. It was only the kids that needed to go now.

              She had refused to hide out anywhere else, and only decided to stay here because she knew they would be caught if they didn’t. As they got closer to London, there were more and more of the dead. It seemed to be one last challenge from the man above.

              “I think we can get to the Thames in the next few days,” Violet said. “We’re not too far from it now.”

              She was repeating herself, but she had to.

              “That’s all fine and well, but you’re forgetting the number of zombies out there.” Zach stood up. “If we go out there and just expect to get to the Thames by following the streets, we’re going to be killed.”

              “Then we won’t follow the streets, will we?”

              “Where else are we supposed to go, Violet? Do you think we’re going to climb roofs? Do you think we’re just going to sneak past the dead, when they’re so starved for the living?”

              “Stop being so negative, Zach, or I’ll leave you here to rot.” Violet snapped.

              “I can’t even look at you,” Zach said, heading towards the door. “I have no idea who you are.”

              One of the kids began to cry from the other room.

              “Ugh, go and fuck off to that, you lucky sod.” Violet waved her hand in the direction of the kids. She turned her back and heard the door slam. When she turned around Zach was in front of her, kissing her, running his hands over her body. She kissed him back, running a hand through his hair while the other strayed to his waistband.

              He broke away from her and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a slightly forceful snap. Violet stared at where he had disappeared. She didn’t understand anything about him. She didn’t know why she was feeling these things for him. She just couldn’t get him out of her head. She wanted to know where he was, she wanted to know how he was feeling, she wanted to feel him next to her and hear him breathe. She had never been in love. She never allowed herself. If she thought she was falling in love with anyone she would hide away from them until they moved on. It was too much hurt and it was all too much drama.

              She enjoyed being free. She enjoyed not being tied down by someone, and she enjoyed not being full of emotions that messed with her head and made her think thoughts she shouldn’t be thinking.

              But she couldn’t escape it this time. Love had locked itself around her too tightly for her to break it and escape. She could only survive London with Zach.

              Violet stood by the window and stared out. The town was deadly quiet, but just out of eyesight she sensed the dead were walking. They had a habit of showing up when they thought they were safe. As Violet stood, listening to the kids being talked to by Zach, she thought about how she could talk to him about getting rid of them.