Thirteen Roses Book Two: After: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (14 page)

Bayleigh squeaked and clapped her hands. 'There's more people, they're alive, there's more of us.'

David came running up the bus to stand beside him, clinging to the yellow pole that ran down the length of the aisle. All three of them stared at the car. Then the passenger door opened and a man stepped out that made them all gasp. Jackson felt the blood drain from his face, but David's response took him by surprise.
 

'Oh, no, nooooo!'

He ran down the bus to the back and cowered on the seats, covering his head with his hands and looking for all the world like he was trying to burrow into the cushions. Bayleigh stared at the man, brows furrowed and head shaking.
 

'Who is he? He looks familiar.'

Jackson nodded, his own forehead lined and tense. 'He sold me some flowers.'

'That's it!' She beamed at him. 'He's the flower guy with the amazing roses. I knew I recognised him.'

As if she only just realised what David had done, she peered out of the driver's compartment and down the bus. 'What's wrong with him?'

Jackson grumbled. 'Maybe he bought some roses, too.'

Bayleigh stared at Jackson, blinking. 'You're kidding me, right?'

'What?'

'I bought roses from him last week. And you did too, yeah?'

Jackson nodded, still not believing what he thought she was getting at. 'So David obviously knows him, too. I couldn't figure out why we were still alive, but…'

They both turned to look at the man. He came around the side of the bus, and Jackson knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they should drive away and leave him here. He was wrong, twisted in some way he couldn't explain. Then Bayleigh pushed the open button and the door hissed.
 

The man climbed on, looking around with a faint smile on his face.
 

'This is like a reunion, don't you think?'

Jackson groaned somewhere deep in the back of his throat and stared at the floor. The man nodded to him and he just about managed to raise a hand, but had no intention of meeting his eyes. He felt again the feet digging into his throat and coughed. Another figure appeared at the door and he squeezed his eyes shut as though he could magic away the horrible sight. But when he opened them, the boy was still there.
 

Stick-thin and small, with greasy hair hanging past his shoulders, he was any of the children Jackson had taken in the last five years. And now he stood ready to confront him, to accuse and condemn. Jackson put his hand to his throat and rose. The blood on his back was stuck to the seat, and he grunted as it ripped off and his wounds reopened.
 

The growls of hungry zombies grew louder as the boy scrambled into the bus, followed by another survivor with scruffy hair and a jumper no self-respecting man would be seen dead in. The doors hissed closed and they all let out a long breath. The boy stopped at the top of the bus and stared at Jackson.
 

'Your back is bleeding.'

Jackson tried not to cry, and failed.
 

David

The flower seller was here. He'd come back to get David and he wouldn't escape this time. He'd wanted his peace back so badly when he first returned. And when the zombies came he'd wanted it even more. But now he didn't. He couldn't go back.
 

The silence would kill him.
 

He watched in bemused amazement as the bands he'd wrapped around his broken mind snapped, twanging off one by one.
 

They flopped and hung around him like broken branches after a storm and, as hard as he tried for them, they stayed just out of reach.
 

He would be alone again.
 

He would be alone again.
 

He would—
 

'David. How are you?'

He whimpered and drew his hands tighter around his head. The branches bashed his face and scraped against his mind. A hand patted him on the shoulder and he flinched.
 

'I'm sorry.' He whimpered.

'Sorry?'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please don't send me back, ple—'

'David, calm down. It's fine, really, I'm not sending you anywhere.'

Silence. David waited for the punchline.
 

'Really, come on now, sit up. There are zombies outside, we haven't got the time for you to be self-pitying, sort it out.'

He sniggered and chewed his lip. He was self-pitying. Right. He sat up and stuck his chin out. 'I'm so sorry I feel sorry for myself. Imagine that. Faced with a man who put me in hell, how could I poss—'

'You weren't in hell. And you put yourself there.'

David blinked, staring at the eyes that bore into his. They were fire, burning through the fragile grip he had on reality as surely as the solitude had done two weeks previously.
 

The flower seller nodded. 'You put yourself there. You made bad choices, David, even after I gave you the chance to change them. All I did was show you your fear.'

'You showed me my fear? You put me in hell, you bastard, you PUT ME IN HELL.'

Spit flew from his mouth and into the man's face. The flower seller wiped it from his cheek and nodded. 'Perhaps I did. And I could apologise for it. But there are more important things to worry about right now.'

'More important than my sanity?'

David glanced down the bus and realised everyone was staring at him. Bayleigh's eyes were wide and her mouth was open in an O, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Why was she surprised? She didn't know David, none of them did. They didn't know what he'd been through. The only one who did was sat in front of him and he didn't care.
 

'My name is Luke. I've been sent to help you.'

David burst out laughing and shook his head side to side like a child refusing to do what he's been asked. 'You're here to help us? So did you bring the zombies with you? Is that what happened?'

'Of course not. I have been working very hard over the last week to stop it from happening.'

'Well, based on your track record so far, I'm not hopeful about the future.'

'Listen, I came to speak to you because what we're about to do will be dangerous. I need to know you can help and not hinder.'

'You know nothing. I'll help you with nothing so piss off.'

He lifted his feet onto the seat and wrapped his arms around his legs, tucking them into his chest. He looked at Luke and giggled. He was here to help. He shook his head and rocked gently back and forth. Luke hissed and stomped back down the bus. David watched him, with his confident swagger and easy manner.
 

There were others with him. He hadn't seen them at first. There was a young boy, maybe twelve, and a young guy who looked like a student. They were sat chatting to Bayleigh and Jackson. Now Luke moved among them and their eyes were drawn to him like he was some kind of celebrity.
 

David shuffled off the seat and slunk down the bus, just until he was in earshot. He listened to Luke, resisting the urge to spit.
 

'We need to rescue Krystal. She's been taken by the soldiers of god.'

Jackson's head jerked up and David jumped as he saw his eyes. 'Who are the soldiers of god?'

Luke sighed. 'They are the bringers of this plague. They stole it from a laboratory and unleashed it upon the world.'

'They aren't soldiers of god.' Jackson said.

'That's entirely right. He has nothing to do with them. But they take their messages from the Bible and they run the organisation that sits behind the church.'

'What organisation?' Bayleigh asked.

Luke turned to her, eyebrows raised. 'Behind every big business is a group of people the world doesn't see. Surely you know that? Some businesses pretend they are out in the open and have their chairmen and women and CEOs and what have you. Some keep things closer to the chest, like the Mafia and Yakuza. But they're all businesses and they all operate above the law. Because no matter what people tell you, the only law that matters is money.'

David blinked. He'd been ready to scoff and scorn, but the words cut through the whirling maelstrom in his mind and rang truer than the madness waiting to pounce.
 

Jackson grunted and leant closer to Luke. 'So what're you saying?'

'I'm saying that behind the church, and let's not forget that the church is one of the biggest businesses the world has ever seen, is an organisation. They planned the crusades and they send missionaries to places that don't need them. They supported slavery and supported its abolition when it suited them. They have a martial arm called the soldiers of god. And those men released the plague.'

'How can he let this happen?'

Luke sneered. 'Because there is no god, not how you see it. You think you have a god, like Muslims believe they have Allah or Buddhists have Buddha, but they're all just names. The Father doesn't care what goes on down here, not like you think he does, he—'

'He's given me a mission and I ain't failing it because of some bullshit from you. I don't know who you are, 'cept you tortured me and—'

'Helped you see the light. It seems to me you've only found God since I showed you just how worthless your life was. I'm still waiting for a thank you, though I'm not too bothered by that, but I suggest you listen to my words and listen well. You know nothing, Jackson Armitage, no matter what your mama beat into you, and—'

David almost fell off his seat as Jackson surged out of his own chair towards Luke. The huge man swung an equally huge fist towards him. But Luke wasn't there anymore and Jackson lost his balance, punched the back of the chair and tumbled over it.
 

The thump as he hit the floor echoed around the bus and David pressed himself against the seat as though he could burrow into it, covering his hands with his ears. Jackson scrambled back up and raised his fists, swaying side to side. He had his back to David and he saw the long stripes of blood where he'd beat himself with the belt. How was he even standing after that?

Luke stood in the front of the bus, impassive with his hands by his sides. His voice was soft and compelling. 'Jackson, we need to work together. There is a child we need to rescue. She's one of only seven people alive in England and we cannot allow her to die. You will sit down and calm down and we will be on our way. Understand?'

Jackson's shoulders heaved and his fists tightened. David held his breath. Slowly the big man's breathing became even and he nodded and sat. David wished he could see his face. But he wasn't moving any further down the bus. There were too many people there, people who could ask him who he was and why he was here.
 

Instead, he slipped quietly to the back and curled up on the seat. A few moments later the bus chugged to life and pulled away. It rocked him gently and he closed his eyes. He dreamed of Amber, crouched in their bed with the covers pulled around her neck, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He tried to reach out to her, to explain, but his hand was curled into a claw and his skin was pale and cracked.
 

He woke to the sounds of shouting and screaming. And gunfire.
   

Alex
 

He couldn't keep his eyes off Jackson. The guy was huge, unbelievably big, and had this shaved head and massive beard like some redneck from a TV show about the world's craziest rednecks. He even sounded like it, going on about his mission from God. He'd been muttering since Luke got him in his seat, going on and on about God telling him what to do and Luke's lies.
 

He was equal parts fascinated and horrified. Mostly horrified because of Ed. The kid was crouched as near the door as possible looking at Bayleigh beseechingly, with occasional glances at Jackson. Alex just had to remember that however frightening this was for him, Ed would be far more scared.

Alex climbed from his seat and across the bus to sit blocking Ed's view of Jackson.
 

'Hey.'

Ed looked at him with eyes that were both younger and older than they should have been. The kid nodded and went back to staring at Bayleigh.

'How you doing?' Alex asked.

'Alright.'

'Where were you?'

'What?'

'When it happened. Where were you?'

Ed blinked and finally took his eyes off Bayleigh. 'We were in Canary Wharf, up in the restaurant. We just watched it.'

'Yeah, that's what I did too. Just had to watch it…'

He trailed off as he thought of Lisa and the baby inside her. He hadn't thought about much of anything in the last week, working just to find the cure. Then Luke took him away to wherever it was the Father lived, and before he knew it the plague was happening. There had been no warning. He thought he'd get time to see Lisa, to tell her how much he loved her. But she was gone.
 

He rubbed his eyes and realised the kid was looking at him. 'You lost someone?'

The question was so forthright and perceptive that he felt his mouth drop open. Then he nodded. 'Yeah. My girlfriend. My friends, my parents, everyone I've ever known.'

Ed nodded and cocked his head to one side. 'I haven't really thought about it. I mean, I'd given up on my parents anyway, but they're really gone, aren't they?'

Alex nodded, wondering if he should even be talking about it. What the hell were you supposed to say to a twelve year old about why everyone was dead? But he couldn't hide it, or pretend it hadn't happened. So how long did you leave it?
 

'I think I should be more upset.' Ed said.

Not long, apparently. Alex shrugged. 'I guess you're as upset as you need to be. Everyone's different so you might feel really different to how I feel.'

'How do you feel?'

Alex squirmed a little and tried to decide how much further he could go with this. 'I feel… tired? I'm drained, you know, just… I should be more upset, too, but it's all happened so recently and I don't have the energy to freak out and stuff. Does that make sense?'