Thirteen Roses Book Two: After: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (22 page)

The bullets kept flying and seconds later he dragged them both to the floor. Staying standing in that was like keeping your hand on the table while someone did the knife trick from
Aliens
. The sound bounced around the cathedral until it sounded like an entire army was shooting at them.
 

'Where do we go?'

Luke mumbled something and scrabbled to his feet. He headed for the wall but the soldiers were racing towards them and cut off the route. Alex hauled his arm and they set off deeper into the cathedral. 'Are there any other doors?'

'I think so, but I don't know where they are. Head for the tent.'

It was only as they turned back that he realised Jackson was nowhere to be seen. He'd been in the entrance to the tent when they left but he hadn't followed them out and now he was nowhere. They dashed into the tent and the roar of gunfire abruptly ceased, the echoes chasing them into the white.
   

Bayleigh

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. A small voice inside mocked her, asking how she could doubt watching someone get shot when there were zombies outside. But still reality refused to click into place.
 

She saw Luke's face as he hit the ground and the primary emotion was one of surprise, like he didn't quite believe he'd been shot. Perhaps that was why she couldn't believe it either. She'd known him for less than twenty-four hours but already he seemed invincible. She knew he wasn't of this world but it was more than that. He carried himself like he
was
invincible, like nothing could touch him.
 

Now there was blood on the stone and a bullet in his arm and his face was twisted in pain. And all she could do was stare and try to stop her hands shaking.
 

'What do we do?'

She glanced at Krystal and was about to shrug. She couldn't do that, though. Krystal and Ed were looking at her like she had all the answers. And David was good for precisely nothing. He was sat away from them, arms wrapped around his knees while he rocked back and forth. She needed to do something. She had to get them out of there.
 

She thought of Layla and sneered. Because she was so good at saving people and keeping them safe. But the kids didn't know that. They only knew that she had a sword and looked like she knew something. Or maybe they were just too scared to do anything themselves. It didn't make any difference. One way or another, it was down to her.
 

She crawled along the floor until she reached the metal railing and peered through. A whole gang of soldiers had come into the cathedral and were spreading out. Bullets whirred and hissed past her hiding place. Alex and Luke were back on their feet and ran into the huge tent that loomed out of the darkness. It reminded her of something from
The Wall
by Pink Floyd and at any moment some giant creature would burst free and march across the cathedral.
 

As they disappeared into the tent the gunfire stopped, replaced by the shouts of the soldiers and their boots cracking across the stone floor. She watched them pile into the tent until only a couple waited outside. The door they needed was just up the wall from where she crouched. She thought she could find it. She'd need a minute, though, to be sure.
 

She turned and saw David. What had he said earlier? He was the wind. With a sick feeling welling up in her stomach, she crawled back and crouched before him.
 

'I need your help.'

He didn't respond, his eyes fixed on his interlaced hands.
 

'David, I need your help. Are you there?'

Still nothing. She touched his hand, ever so gently, but he jerked away. This wasn't working. She slapped him across the top of the head like an errant school-boy. 'Wake up. You have to help or these kids are going to die.'

He peered at her through bleary eyes. 'Why did you hit me?'

'I need your help.'

'Yeah, but you didn't have to hit me.'

She almost punched him. Instead, she pressed her clenched fists into the stone and ground her teeth together. 'Will you help me?'

'What do you want me to do?'

He couldn't have been less enthusiastic, but it was better than nothing. She blushed as she spoke. 'You run fast, right?' She was playing him. But his eyes lit up, and he perked up and nodded like a Labrador. It was too easy. But she had to think about the kids. They came first.
 

'Yeah, I run faster than all of them. I'm the wind.'

'That's right, that's just what I thought. I need you to run.'

She thought he was going to set off straight away and she put her hand on his arm. 'Hold on. There are soldiers out there, with guns. You need to distract them while I get the kids into the tunnels. You can just run past them and straight out the cathedral. You'll be fast enough to avoid them, right?'

A thought struck her as he stood. Luke still had the device. So the moment they were out of here, if they got out of here, they would still have to avoid the zombies. She let out a long breath and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.
 

One thing at a time.
 

She glanced over at Krystal and Ed, who were still staring at her with curious eyes. What would they think of her using David as bait?

She didn't have time to think about it. 'We'll meet up…'

David took her arms and shook her gently. His voice was very different when he spoke. The hysteria was gone, replaced by a calm that was almost as creepy in its intensity.

'We'll get out of this. I'll meet you at the hospital, St Bart's, where we came in. Find a room and lock yourselves in, okay?'

She nodded and he was gone. He was out of the chapel before she had time to grab the others and get them moving. He screamed and hollered, racing across the cathedral waving his hands above his head. The three soldiers waiting outside the tent levelled their guns and started firing.
 

She turned her eyes to the kids and dragged them along with her as she left the chapel and sneaked down the wall. She panted, breath coming in short bursts as she ran her hand along it. Her fingers were raw by the time they slipped through the apparently hard concrete. She put a foot through before Ed caught her arm.
 

'It's dark in there.'

'It is but it's straight and simple. We just walk until we see the light.'

'David got lost. And he's not right in the head now.'

'I'm not sure he was right in the head before we came in, Ed, but I know what you mean.'

She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked it. She had less than twenty percent left, but the kids didn't need to know that. She closed all the windows to conserve power and flicked on the torch.
 

'Okay? Ready to go?'

Krystal stepped through the wall, marvelling at her foot disappearing into solid stone. Bayleigh went next, but Ed grabbed her arm and came through at the same time. They stood together in the darkness, staring around at what the torch revealed. The walls were covered in shallow carvings and every one of them was of pain.
 

There were people on crosses, crucified with holes in their stomachs and limbs torn off. There were people ravaged by wild animals and burning and beheaded and dismembered. There were women… She quickly turned the torch to the smooth stone floor and started up the passageway.
 

They were in St Paul's. This was a Christian place, a place of love and harmony. Who made these tunnels? Who wanted anyone coming through them to see those horrible things? A whole host of questions ran through her mind, about the cavern towards which they headed and the miniature church that lay there. What was it used for? Her torchlight flicked onto a wall and she saw a faint carving of a body impaled by spears. The carving was small and simple, but it lit her imagination until she thought she could hear the person screaming.
 

She hurried the children on, hoping they didn't notice the way the light flickered and dimmed.
 

David

He ran. There were noises, bangs that made his ears hurt and his shoulders tense, but he ignored them. He ignored everything save the burning in his legs and the wind that rushed past him. He became one with it. He became the wind.
 

The exit to St Paul's lay dead ahead and nothing was going to stop him. Nothing could stop the wind. The bullets faded, their shooters giving up. They knew as well as him how pointless it truly was.
 

He raced through the door and straight into the two soldiers standing just outside. The impact knocked one right off his feet and down the steps of the cathedral. The other was more solid and only rocked back, swearing. David raced past him, taking the wide concrete steps two at a time. Before him lay the trucks, five of them lined up like slabs of concrete. More soldiers milled around outside the Tesco. And beyond them, were the zombies.
 

He'd almost forgotten about them. Somehow, in between the cathedral and the huge cavern beneath and his amazing meeting with the holy lady, he'd forgotten all about them. Now it came rushing back and he realised, heart dropping to his boots, that Bayleigh had used him. There was no chance of him escaping. She'd known it, too, the way her eyes dropped when she spoke to him. But she'd wanted to get the children out safely and he couldn't argue with that. And he was the wind.
 

He had a split second to make his choice and, for once in his life, didn't hesitate. He headed for the furthest truck, chased by shouts but no gunfire. Not yet. He was between the groups of soldiers. And still they dawdled, watching him as though they weren't quite sure if he was real. In that brief moment he crossed the open space and grabbed the door handle.
 

He hauled it open and climbed up. The keys hung from the ignition. He yelped in wonder and fired it up, grinning from ear to ear at the low rumble. He slammed it into reverse, wincing at the grinding gears, then put his foot down.
 

The truck leapt backwards and onto the street. He was frozen for a moment, watching
Cafe Rouge
come rapidly closer in the wing mirrors. Then he stamped on the brakes, stuck it in first and accelerated. He hauled the truck round and set off towards the centre of town. From the corner of his eye he watched the soldiers running for the other trucks. But they were way too slow.
 

He cackled and slapped the steering wheel. This was like the wind, only with power. The truck was heavy beneath his hands and the first car he hit bounced out the way like it weighed nothing. It was the same for the next few as he ploughed a furrow down the centre of the street.
 

He scowled as he glanced in his mirrors. He could bash the cars all day, but he was going too slow.
 

The trucks were coming up fast, using the new road he'd created. He weaved, going around instead of through, and moved faster. It was still agonisingly slow. He could make better ground on foot. But the zombies were everywhere and his stomach flipped at the thought of being out there with them again.
 

If only he had one of the devices, he'd be fine.
 

He thumped himself on the side of the head, and fiddled beneath the dash, running his hand back and forth whilst keeping half an eye on the road. His hand touched something that felt right, just before the truck smashed into a car. He thumped back into the seat and grabbed the wheel with both hands.
 

He stared forward, breathing loudly through his nose. The rattle of gunfire made him jump as the wing mirror to his right was torn off. They were destroying their own truck. Not that he cared, he just needed the device. His hand snaked under the dash again.
 

His eyes drifted down and followed it, before he caught himself and jerked his head up. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. Something slammed into the truck from behind and the front lurched until he was aiming straight at one of the huge red-brick buildings that lined the road. He swore and spun the wheel, fighting to get it back under control. The chasing truck hit him again and the rear wheels slipped, screeching across the tarmac. The truck slewed back in the other direction and when he got traction, he was facing the right way!

He roared and thumped the wheel. He was the wind. Even in a truck he was the wind. He couldn't be stopped. His hand went under the dash and he yanked at the device. It shifted a little but didn't come off. If he could just—
 

Another truck struck the back and this time the entire vehicle slid sideways. He wrestled with the wheel but the spin was too strong and the rear end came around past the cab. For a brief moment he found himself staring at the approaching trucks. There were two of them, coming fast. They were going to hit him, drive him through the back of the cab and squash him flat.
 

The truck turned further through the spin until he was broadside to the enemy.
 

Then it flipped.
 

His hands reached for the seat belt but he was far too slow. It happened with a horrible inexorability, and he was tossed across the cab. His shoulder smacked into the offside window with a sound like a bat hitting a ball. He howled as he was dumped onto the roof as the truck turned upside down. A second after that he was back, wrapped around the steering wheel.
 

It dug into his gut and he groaned as his breath left him. The truck kept going, throwing him about like pants in a washing machine. That made him giggle. He was in a wind tunnel. His chin caught one of the headrests as he travelled back across the cab and his teeth snapped together. The headache was instantaneous and he squeezed his eyes closed.
 

That made it worse as the spinning happened inside his head as well as out. He opened his eyes just as he hit the far window again. This time it cracked, fine lines running in every direction across the glass. The truck slowed and he rolled onto the roof. He took a deep breath, trying to ascertain whether any of him was broken. But the truck wasn't finished.