Thirteen Roses Book Two: After: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (16 page)

Then it was gone and there was only darkness and the chill smell of stone. She was dumped on her feet before a blank wall and a blindfold went over her eyes. Someone shoved her in the back and she stumbled forwards, cringing as her head struck the stone. Only it didn't. She was pushed along, feet catching on loose stones on the floor.
 

Light appeared, pulsing through the blindfold, and she blinked when they pulled it off.
 

She stood in a space lit by long striplights that was as disappointing as it possibly could be. It looked like the canteen in the hostel on Black Street, all crappy wooden floors and trestle tables. This was clearly the bit of the cathedral the public didn't get to see.
 

'Please, sit down.'

She sniffed and examined the man who'd made the request. He was dressed the same way as Etienne, except his robe was just off white, and the two of them could have been twins. Maybe they were. Maybe the soldiers of god were some scary inbred extended family. It would explain the weirdness. She would have laughed, but there were still zombies outside.
 

'How come the zombies weren't attacking your soldiers?'

The men exchanged a glance and the second gestured to the seat again. 'Please, sit and we'll explain everything.'

Etienne shook his head. 'That's not entirely true. We won't explain anything. But it will save us both time and effort were you to just sit down.'

There were moments when it made sense to cooperate. She wasn't convinced this was one of those, but she sat anyway. She couldn't figure out what she could get from not doing as they asked. And there weren't any soldiers in here, which meant she had a chance of escape. If she pissed them off the soldiers would be straight back in. So she sat and waited, chin jutting out and lips pressed flat.
 

Etienne pulled a chair out from one of the tables and sat opposite her, carefully folding one leg over the other.
 

'Who are you? What is your name and what do you do? I would imagine you're still at school.'

'My name's Krystal. I don't go to school cos I live on the streets and school don't want anyone who don't have a home.'

She was aware she'd slipped into her street language. She hated it, and used it only when it was going to make other kids more comfortable around her. She knew enough to know people like to feel part of something. Now she wanted to feel as far away from these well-spoken prats as possible.
 

'You are homeless? Goodness me, well. How did you survive the fog?'

'That's all this is about, isn't it?'

'Of course. Why else would we be interested in you? We've just wiped out the best part of the population of England. Why would you be any different?'

He left off the last part, about her being immune. She grinned. She had power. Not much of it, but enough that they weren't going to kill her any time soon. The door clicked behind her and she watched another man come in, this one clad in doctor's overalls. He busied himself at the table before coming towards her. He grabbed her arm and without any preamble stuck a needle into it.

Well, he tried to. She wrenched her arm free and knocked the needle from his hand the moment she felt it spike her flesh. Then she lashed out with both feet and caught him in the shins. He hissed and doubled over, forgetting all about the needle. Krystal leapt from her chair and headed for the door. She almost made it too.
 

Etienne said something, his voice deep as he spoke a language that could have been French but didn't have any words she recognised. Although, what was she going to hear, 'bonjour' or something? She reached the door unscathed, but when she yanked on the handle, it refused to budge. She pulled harder and got the same result.

'Don't waste your time. The door is sealed now and no key will open it.'

She turned slowly to the two men in their robes. They looked casual, leaning back in their chairs and grinning like Cheshire bloody cats. She ground her teeth together and shoved her hands in her pockets. They were the reason everyone was dead. And they sat here laughing at her like nothing had happened.
 

'You're bastards, you know that, right?'

'We will take your blood. If we have to do it from your cooling corpse, then so be it. You may think as a survivor you have some sort of value to us. You don't. We are curious, I won't deny it, but we have our plans in place. Your immunity would be nice, but nothing more.'

He folded his arms and watched her. She chewed on her lip, arms shaking from the tension in her shoulders. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
 

Fine. What was a little blood? She slumped in the chair and let the doctor go about his business. The needle stung as it went in, then she watched her blood fill the little plastic tube.
 

When he yanked the needle out she expected to be given some cotton wool, but he stood back, staring intently at the test tube. She watched a trail of blood run down her arm and then, giving up her expectations, grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pressed it against the wound.
 

Etienne smiled and nodded. 'A far better response all round. Well done, Krystal. There will be others coming to see you. They'll want to examine you. Please allow them to do so.'

He strolled out of the room, the door opening as though it had never been locked. Etienne's companion stayed where he was, staring at her. His upper lip curled as he came closer and knelt before her. His hand landed softly on her leg and he squeezed. She bit her lip and swallowed.
 

'I might come back and examine you. I like that thought very much. What do you think? Could you cooperate with an exam?'

She turned away and stared at the wall, blinking furiously. The man chuckled and swept out, the sound of his robes like the sea brushing the sand. She was alone. She leapt for the door, squirming and writhing as though it wasn't just her knee he'd touched. It was locked again, or sealed, or whatever he did to it.
 

Had he done magic? She'd have wet herself just thinking about it a week ago. Magic stopped being even the tiniest bit fun once you were on the streets. All those things like fairy tales and magic and unicorns were complete bullshit, stuff made up to torture you even more. But she'd felt something when he chanted, at the base of her spine and between her legs. It was like when you sit in one place long enough and the sun warms your skin until it's hot to the touch. It felt like that. And the door had been sealed.
 

She shook her head, sneering. She needed to get out of here. She tried the door again. She stared around the room, but all there was were chairs and tables. With a snarl she grabbed the chair she'd been sitting on and threw it across the room. The sound was loud and she ducked and waited. But the silence came back just as quick, and no one arrived.
 

Bayleigh

She frowned at the shattered glass. Her ownership of the bus was over and that sucked. She liked the bus. She felt safe in the bus. She'd thought she was safe with Luke until he said that about the bank account. What a bastard. There was no need to mention it. Although, none of the others seem to have heard. Or cared.
 

She took a deep breath and padded back down the bus. She didn't want to be back here with David and Jackson. David was still crouched on his back seat, peering over it with flighty eyes. Jackson looked like he was praying, but for all she knew he might as well be communing with the devil. He was a freak. She hated that word, but there was something about him. It was the extremeness of everything he said. That level of belief was more frightening than no belief at all.
 

Alex hollered from the front of the bus and she scooted closer, keeping her head tucked down. Hands were appearing at the broken front window, zombies climbing up the front grille to attack them.
 

Luke stepped up next to the driver's door. His sword appeared in his hand and she stared wide-eyed as he swung it in a long arc. A zombie hand separated from the arm and popped up into the air before disappearing over the front of the bus. Blood sprayed from the stump onto the floor of the bus, and the smell of rot rose up and made her nose sting.
 

Alex had a sword as well and he drew it slower than Luke. He looked as awkward with it as he had when they'd been talking a minute ago. He was cute, in a scruffy sort of way and had a nice smile. He was also far too young. She blinked and looked away. Two more zombies were clambering clumsily into the bus.
 

The first lost its face as Luke swung. She swallowed as its nose was ripped off and its eyes burst. It stiffened as the tip of the blade cut through its brain and toppled back and off the bus. The other was almost up by the time Alex swung and buried his sword in the top of its head. The creature froze, wobbled and fell back, taking the sword with it.
 

'Shit.' Alex jumped forwards and watched his weapon fall to the street. Luke's shoulders slumped and he rested his own blade across his shoulder.

'Really, Alex? The first time you manage to hit something and you lose the bloody thing. Do you have any idea what that's worth?'

'I don't think anyone's too bothered by how much it's worth now.'

'I do. That's a beautiful sword.' He paused and stared at Alex.

'What?'

'Well, are you going to get it?'

Alex laughed, then stopped when Luke's expression didn't change. 'You're kidding, right?'

Luke sighed and shook his head. He turned to Bayleigh. 'Can you look after this place for a minute?'

He stepped onto the window frame, kicked another zombie in the face and jumped out. She screamed and rushed forwards. There was a miniature fire extinguisher strapped to the wall just outside the driver's door and she grabbed it, hefting it in both hands.
 

He was a bastard, but he was brave. Or mad. Possibly both. Another zombie appeared and she swung the extinguisher. Her good aim of earlier was gone and she missed completely. The swing took her off balance and her feet slipped on the blood. She went down hard and landed on her hip, grunting as a sharp pain flashed through her side.
 

Alex grabbed the extinguisher from her and swung, catching the zombie in the chin. It swayed but didn't fall and its next movement brought it over the glass and into the bus. Bayleigh grabbed its leg, trying to ignore the feeling of the skin shifting and tearing free of the bone beneath.
 

She swallowed the bile and hauled on the leg as hard as she could. The zombie, standing in the same blood as her, slipped sideways and landed with a thud on its shoulder.
 

'Now, Alex, hit the bloody thing.'

The extinguisher came down and bounced off its shoulder. He swore, raised it again and brought it down. It caught the creature in the nose and broke it straight off, exposing crumbling bone and yellowed rotting flesh beneath.
 

'Oh shit.' Alex stumbled back, covering his mouth. Bayleigh scrambled to her feet, trying to ignore the warmth of the blood on her palms.
 

She grabbed the extinguisher from Alex and took a step towards the zombie. She froze. It was a zombie, a real zombie. She blinked sweat from her eyes and tried to get a better grip on her makeshift weapon. Her stomach churned and she whimpered.
 

It grabbed her ankle, cold clammy hands touching her skin where her jeans were rucked up. She screamed and slammed the extinguisher down on its head. The first blow did nothing, but the second broke its skull, and the third sent brains spraying down the front of the bus. She gave it a fourth for good luck and the impact of the extinguisher on the hard floor jarred her shoulders.
 

She released it and fell back into the nearest chair. Another zombie came over the glass and she groaned and covered her face with blood-soaked hands. Then it jerked and flew back. Moments later, Luke's face appeared as he scrambled up into the coach. He looked at the mess of zombie on the front and raised an eyebrow, then shoved it off the bus with his foot.
 

It slid with a soft scraping sound and its arm flapped up in the air as it went over the edge. It left behind half of its head, brains and blood squished across the floor at the front. The pungent ripe scent of rotting flesh made her stomach turn. It was like when one of them left the meat out of the fridge at the shop on a hot night. Not that they'd be doing that again. Layla wouldn't be doing anything again.
 

She sniffed, scrubbed her eyes and stared at Luke. Was this his fault? It felt like it was his fault. He'd been sent here, but before he came along, life was just fine. Actually, that wasn't true. Life was on a knife-edge. She knew, somehow, that he'd had something to do with Dad dying. She screwed up her face and shook her head.
 

He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet.
 

'Good work. I mean, messy, but effective.'

Alex still gripped the seat he'd found to hide behind but now he blinked and stared at her. 'That was amazing. Just, amazing. Thanks.'

She blushed and nodded. Luke pulled the second sword out of his belt and handed it to her. 'Seems this belongs to you.'

He gave Alex a look and the young man blushed and looked down.
 

'Hey,' she said, 'I've had more experience than him.'

'An entire day of fighting zombies. And burning down shops and all sorts of things.'

She
blushed this time. 'Seemed the best way to escape.'

Luke's eyes widened and he burst out laughing. 'You set the shop on fire to escape? It wasn't a signal for the others?'
 

'I didn't know there were others. I thought the zombies would be scared of it.'

'Right, of course.' Luke whistled and turned away, still chuckling. The sound of eating came from in front of the bus and she skirted to the edge and looked down. The bodies of the dead zombies were swamped by their friends, tearing pieces off and stuffing them into greedy mouths. She heaved and only just stopped herself from throwing up all over them.