Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (21 page)

‘Just me.’

Seph thumped his fist into his palm and growled. It was the closest thing to anger Luke had ever seen from him and he chuckled. ‘What’s wrong, not going to plan?’

‘I’ve explained why you’re here. I’ve made it perfectly clear you’ll be immortal again. And not just when the Father feels like it, which will probably be when you’re an old man who can’t walk properly and fouls himself. I’m giving you the chance to take back your immortality and take control of the upper realms.’

Luke stood and stomped across the chamber to gaze down over the Flights. Beings of all sort drifted here and there, freed from their daily grind. It looked peaceful. It looked boring. But it wouldn’t be boring. Ruling this place was a minefield and life would never be boring.
 

Seph stood beside him. ‘Luci, listen. You can spend the next hundred years lying with Sara and never get out of bed. We don’t need you to rule if you don’t want to. We just need you to help us get our lives back.’

‘You’ve got your life, in case you hadn’t noticed. I need to think.’

‘What’s there to think about?’

‘You’re talking about a war, y—’

‘I’m talking about an assassination, a coup. There’s no war here.’

‘So why the army? Why force yourself on hundreds of innocent women?’

Seph’s eyebrows rose and he burst out laughing. ‘What’s happened to you? You spent millennia bringing pain and horror to the human race and now you’re worried about a few women?’

‘I’m worried about a whole heap of things, the main one being when I go to assassinate the Father and he rips me in half. But you didn’t answer my question. Why the army?’

Seph turned and ambled deeper into his chamber, to the window at the far end. Luke squinted at it and saw St Paul’s, sitting pretty in the autumn sunshine. It looked so peaceful from the outside. Then a zombie staggered into view and he sneered. This was Az’s work, his and Seph’s. All so they could take control up here.

It was, he had to admit, ambitious. It was also astonishing. He was the prince of lies and they’d been lying to him the entire time he’d been back in the Flights. But then the Father
had
screwed with him. He’d dulled his mind, dulled his instincts until he was happy to work for the weekly totals. He nodded. There was a lot the Father had to answer for.
 

Seph cleared his throat. ‘There will be resistance. There are some who believe in the Father, whether we like it or not, and those beings will fight back.’

‘So not everyone shares your view of this wonderful new utopia?’

‘Of course not. I’d be suspicious if they did. But they will fall.’

‘So now you’re killing our own as well as humans.’

‘I’ll kill anyone I need to escape this mundanity.’

‘I thought you didn’t have evil in you.’

‘I never said that. I said I didn’t have enough to kill the Father.’

‘Sounds like an excuse to me. Sounds like you’re trying to justify using me when you know I can’t fight back.’

‘Does it matter now?’

He paused. ‘No, I suppose not. I need to think.’

‘You need to think?’

‘Yes. And I need to rescue the hostages before the soldiers of God start raping them.’

‘They won’t get the chance. Az is already getting himself ready.’

Luke shuddered, his mind filled with the test subject lying face down in her own blood as Az’s child scampered away. ‘I need to think. Take me back now.’

Seph locked eyes with him. ‘You don’t have long to think.’

‘I’ll take as long as I damn well please. You need me or the whole thing goes to shit. And you need to find your army somewhere else.’

‘If we do, will you join us?’

‘I need to think.’

Seph hissed and kept his eyes locked on Luke. Finally he shrugged, cracked a smile and waved his hand. The wall shimmered and Luke stepped through into the narrow passageway alone. The wall beside him solidified as the one on the other side shimmered, and he found himself back in St Paul’s. Three soldiers levelled their guns at him and Luke heard the clicks as the safeties were taken off.
 

Alex

The explosion knocked Alex off his feet. He bounced off the side of the truck and hit the floor. The air rushed from his lungs and he rolled onto his side, waiting for the pain to start. It came all at once, his back and legs and knees throbbing while his ears rang and his head thumped. He curled up and hugged himself.
 

Then he remembered where he was and what he was doing so he reluctantly uncurled and looked about. A thick black haze hung over everything. Through it he saw Bayleigh, already on her feet and helping Ed to stand. He thought he saw Jackson too, head streaming blood as he weaved towards them. He groaned and contemplated curling up again. He had a device in his pocket. The zombies couldn’t get him and he would be safe here and undisturbed.
 

He put his hands over his head and shook it, then scrubbed his face. He couldn’t stay here. The women were inside, helpless and soon to be victim to something he couldn’t even think about. Even the idea made his hands clench into fists. It was inhuman, beyond his capacity to understand why anyone would do such a thing.
 

Although, he
had
created the plague. He sat for a moment, head resting to one side as the ringing subsided. He created the plague. Everything was his fault. He was responsible for the hostages and the zombies and everything. That someone had changed his equations mattered not at all. Because that was only one step on a far longer road and it was a road he had chosen.
 

He pushed himself to his feet. Bayleigh rushed over and put her hand on his arm. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, I think so. Am I bleeding?’

‘Not that I can see. Turn around.’

He turned and she inspected him then smacked him on the butt. ‘You’re fine.’

There was something about the way she said fine that made him blush. And there was something in the way she looked at him when he turned back around that made him drop his eyes and shift awkwardly. ‘Are you alright?’

She shrugged and threw him a bright smile. ‘Yeah, fine, didn’t really feel it to be honest.’

What had happened to her? It was the spell the doctor did. Somehow it had sort of boosted her healing. Maybe because she hadn’t needed any, it had pushed her up a level and given her all this energy. And that randy sort of look she was giving him again. He coughed and nodded to Ed as the lad approached.
 

They all turned when they heard Jackson shouting at them. ‘We need to go now. They’ll be out any moment.’

He was covered in blood and his steps weren’t steady, but he moved at a good pace as he led them around the side of the steps and up to stand beside the door to St Paul’s. He turned and put his finger to his lips. Alex sniggered. Everything was done in an exaggerated fashion as though Jackson couldn’t quite control his actions. And what did he think they were going to do, break into song?

Soldiers streamed from the front of the cathedral and down to the conflagration dominating the square. They waited until the flow stopped before Jackson took wobbly steps to the door and peered in. He motioned furiously and they raced through the door and tucked in to the shadows beside the wall.
 

Someone would shout. One of the soldiers must have seen them. But there was silence. Somehow, Jackson’s genius idea of blowing all of them up had done the job, and now St Paul’s lay empty and silent before them. Not entirely silent. Voices drifted towards them from the far end and the only thing Alex made out was ‘give yourself up’, which didn’t strike him as a particularly good thing to hear. It did mean that Luke was probably still alive though, at least for now.
 

The four of them dashed between the huge columns towards the tent. They paused at the entrance, Bayleigh still looking bizarrely radiant. Alex grabbed Jackson’s arm just as the big man was about to plunge in.
 

‘Hold on. We don’t know the plague is completely gone yet.’

The big man snarled and wiped his head with one arm, ignoring the blood that came away on his sleeve. ‘What do you suggest?’

‘Not a clue, but we can’t risk it.’

Jackson closed his eyes and his head sank forward into his chest. Alex waited for a moment before he realised he was praying. He imagined the Father for a moment, sat in his garden, maybe getting a massage from some hot girl. His mental image had turned the Father into this kind of movie star, living the high life. He didn’t think it was that far from the truth. Jackson’s prayer was a phone ringing on the table beside the Father. He imagined him looking at, waving a hand and a servant appearing to whisk it away and throw it down the toilet.
 

Alex grinned and Bayleigh raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s funny?’

‘Nothing, really. Just imagining how the Father will be responding to our friend’s prayer.’ He muttered, one eye on Jackson

‘Not with a burning bush, I assume.’

‘Not at all is my guess.’

The big man raised his head, fixing his eyes on Alex when he spoke. ‘God has answered me.’ His face split into a huge grin. ‘God has answered me. The plague is done, we can rescue the ladies.’

He spun and raced into the tent.
 

‘STOP.’ Alex lunged after him and grabbed his arm. Jackson spun and the side of his hand cracked across Alex’s temple. He staggered and fell, catching the side of the tent and falling through the canvas. He groaned and tried to rise. Bayleigh followed and caught Jackson’s elbow.
 

‘Hang on a minute. We can’t just take your word for it, we have to—’

Jackson batted her around the face, the back of his hand cracking across her cheekbone. Alex scrambled to his feet, mouth open, and froze. Bayleigh was still standing. Not only was she still standing but she still had hold of Jackson’s arm.
 

‘You hit me?’

Jackson looked at her like she was an alien. Alex tried hard not to do the same and strode towards Jackson. ‘Why the hell did you hit her?’

The big man tore his frightened gaze away from Bayleigh for a moment and glared at Alex. ‘God has spoken to me—’

‘There is no God, not the one you’re talking to, wh—’

It was a fist this time and he didn’t see it until it caught him in the side of the eye and the world went sideways. He’d never been punched in the face before. It was like standing up suddenly when you’ve drunk more than you thought you had. Then the pain kicked in and he clapped his hands to the side of his face, groaning and swearing.
 

‘You bastard, why the hell did you do that?’

Through bleary eyes he saw Bayleigh lash out and thump Jackson in the chest. He rocked back as though struck by something far larger than her fist. His eyes narrowed and he balled his fist.
 

‘Bayleigh, watch out.’

It was far too quiet and far too late. Jackson punched her in the face and blood sprayed from her nose. She staggered back and fell on her arse, cupping her face. Ed, who was stood to one side, watching with wide eyes, ran to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Alex pushed himself up again but the world spun and he found himself back on the floor.
 

Jackson sneered at them and disappeared between the sheets. Alex struggled up, patted Bayleigh on the way past, and staggered after Jackson. He caught him beside the first bed, hands on the hostage’s gas mask.
 

‘Don’t do this, man.’

Jackson ignored him and pulled the gas mask free. Alex held his breath, gripping the side of the bed. She was beautiful. Her face was close to perfect despite the deep lines where the gas mask had sat. He held his breath, waiting for the signs.
 

Nothing.
 

Jackson turned his self-satisfied smile on him and nodded. ‘The plague is gone. God will not lie to me.’

He lifted the woman so she was sitting and gently patted her cheek. Alex let out a long breath, laughing in relief. At that moment he didn’t care how smug Jackson was. He laughed again as Jackson growled and patted her cheek a bit harder.
 

‘Jackson, give it up. She’s anaesthetised. She’s unconscious, she’s not gonna wake up until it wears off.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘No idea. Depends how long the anaesthetist set it for. If she wakes up at all. They’ve been here for four days, give or take. That’s really dangerous. She might be brain dead by now.’

He hadn’t given it much thought but now the reality hit him. The soldiers wouldn’t much care, so long as they could bear children. He put his hand over his mouth and turned away. Were they surrounded by vegetables, minds destroyed by too many drugs?
 

‘What do we do?’ Jackson asked.

‘No idea. We can carry them, I suppose, but we can’t get them down the staircase below without them being awake.’

‘I can carry them.’

‘There must be a hundred people in here, don’t be daft.’

Jackson snarled and Alex held his hands up. ‘Hey, take it easy. Hasn’t God told you what to do?’

He backed away from the next look. He wasn’t ready to be punched again. Though having been through it, it wasn’t as bad as all that. Not a nice experience, but no longer a terrifying concept. Jackson turned back to the woman on the bed and shook her. ‘Wake up.’

Alex sighed and pushed back through the sheet. Bayleigh was on her feet with only a faint smear of blood on her upper lip.
 

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, fine, doesn’t hurt a bit.’ She gently touched the side of his face and he winced as her fingers brushed the edge of his eye socket. ‘Is that bad?’

‘It’s been better. I’m alright. The plague’s done.’

‘Done?’

‘It’s no longer live, so anyone without a gas mask won’t be infected anymore.’

‘So we can rescue all the hostages.’

‘Sort of. They’re still under anaesthetic.’

‘No, they’re not.’ Luke strode into the tent, brows furrowed.

‘What?’

‘They’re being magically held under. The anaesthetic would have killed them or made them brain dead. This is a spell.’