Zom-B Gladiator (13 page)

‘Nothing wrong with me,’ I sniff. ‘I’m all fired up and raring to go.’

‘Very well,’ Justin smiles. ‘Release the beasts.’

Our handlers taser us, set us free and retreat. Once I’ve recovered from the shock, I roll my arms around, limbering up, and check out my latest batch of opponents as they surge towards the glass and paw at the
panels, trying to break through to the six smug humans on the other side.

There are seven zombies, five men and two women. Each looks like they had plenty of experience of fighting when they were alive. One of the women is wearing a karate outfit. She must have been training or taking part in a competition when she was attacked.

I’ve faced all sorts of opponents here, but most have been
bruisers like this lot, especially in recent battles. The Board are pushing me to my limits, waiting for me to break.

‘I bet she comes undone this time,’ Lady Jemima says as she studies the muscles on the two zombies closest to her.

‘How much?’ The Prince asks.

‘This,’ she says, flashing a diamond ring at him.

‘Nice.’ The Prince whistles. ‘If you throw in the rest of the rings
on that hand, I’ll wager my crown.’

‘Done,’ Lady Jemima smirks.

‘I didn’t think you would risk so treasured a possession,’ Vicky Wedge notes.

The Prince shrugs. ‘There will be plenty of crowns to choose from when the world is ours.’

I decide to get things under way. I move forward wearily and make a nuisance of myself, angering the zombies, luring them away from the glass, focusing
their attention on me.

We begin our waltz of death. Once they’re riled up, I manipulate every last section of the arena, buzzing around like a fly, grabbing poles and whipping myself into the air, utilising the walls and ceiling as much as the floor. I know this area inside out and I use that knowledge to my advantage.

I jump and grab hold of one of the overhead pipes as two of the men
charge towards me. From that position I can lash out at both of them at the same time with my feet.

A couple of poles are set close together in one zone. I grab the woman in the karate outfit and propel her towards them, then angle her head down and ram it between the poles, jamming her in place. I leave her there, stuck, to finish off at the end when I’m done with the others.

I barge
one of the men into a wall at a point which I’ve identified as a possible weak spot. The steel panel always shakes when someone is thrown against it. I keep hoping that it will tear loose completely one day, but no joy so far. Today it rattles as usual but holds.

The members of the Board keep up a running commentary. They’re sipping champagne, casually discussing the battle, their plans
for the future, what they fancy for dinner. They’re a boring, self-obsessed lot. I’d rather total silence, but I can’t tell them that or they’d talk all the louder just to spite me.

The other female zombie snags the hole in my chest with her fingerbones and tears five nasty channels through the flesh down towards my belly button.

‘Yowzers!’ Dan-Dan howls happily as I roar with pain.

‘That’s got to hurt,’ Lord Luca chuckles.

I kick the woman away and flee to the far side of the arena, gritting my teeth. I quickly examine the wounds to make sure no guts are spilling out. Then I leap over the head of one of the onrushing men. But I don’t get as much height as I thought I would. He clips my legs and drags me
to the ground, then bellows and smashes a fist at my face. The bones jutting out of his fingers glint in the light. If he connects, it’s game over and at least I won’t have to worry about ending up in the clutches of Dan-Dan.

But it’s impossible to lie still and let myself be killed. My defences kick in automatically. I knock the man’s hand aside and twist my head in the opposite direction.
His fist slams into the floor and instead of breaking my skull, he breaks a few of the bones in his fingers.

I scramble to my feet and stagger away from the other reviveds, who are all closing in on me, except for the trapped woman. A long strip of ducting runs the length of what was once the dining hall. I jump and haul myself up, wedging myself between the ducting and the ceiling. There’s
just enough space for me. I’ve squeezed in here before when I’ve needed a rest.

The zombies punch the base and sides of the ducting, trying to grab hold and pull me down. But they can’t get at me, except to scratch the sides of my arms and legs. If a few of them climbed up, the ducting would come crashing to the floor, leaving me at the mercy of my foes. But thankfully they aren’t smart
enough to work that out.

‘No fair,’ Dan-Dan shouts, slapping the glass. ‘I hate it when she does that. Why can’t we take that ducting out of there?’

‘Now now,’ Justin tuts. ‘We have to give her a reasonable chance. It’s more fun this way. She can’t stay up there forever.’

I’ve tried crawling through the ducting at either end, but both exits have been sealed. Still, when I’m up here,
I usually creep to one end or the other to hurl a few blows at the bolted-on steel plates, just in case there’s any give.

I start pulling myself along like an injured snake. The zombies follow beneath me, scraping at the ducting, gurgling furiously. I wonder if they hate me more than the humans, if they see me as a traitor to the undead cause.

As I’m mulling that over and trying to
tune out Dan-Dan’s jeers, the sound of gunfire echoes down from the deck above. Nobody takes any notice of it at first. The guards on the upper deck often fire at passing zombies, or even at corpses floating down the river, for practice. But this time it doesn’t stop after a few seconds as it normally does. It’s sustained. Then, moments later, mingled in with the gunfire, I hear what might just
be the sweetest noise ever.

Human screams.

The lords and ladies of the Board have fallen silent. They’re staring at the open doorway on their side of the glass divide, heads cocked, jaws slack. They don’t look like the masters and mistresses of the universe any more.

The zombies keep slapping at the ducting, unaware of the change of play. I ignore them and stare at the doorway along
with the living.

A guard spills into the narrow corridor, falls over, then clambers to his feet. His face is contorted with terror. ‘We’re under attack!’ he shouts.

‘Who the hell dares attack us?’ Justin barks, recovering his power of speech. ‘Is it the army?’

The guard shakes his head. ‘Zombies, I think. But we’re not sure. They came from the river. They’ve swarmed the deck. I don’t
think we can hold for long.’

Justin curses foully, then draws a gun and shoots the startled guard through the middle of his forehead.

‘Why did you do that?’ The Prince shrieks.

‘I don’t spare messengers when they bring bad news,’ Justin growls, then hops over the dead guard and into the corridor beyond.

The Prince stares at the corpse. There’s another extended blast of gunfire
overhead. He flinches, then hurries after Justin. Vicky, Lord Luca and Dan-Dan scramble after the first pair of deserters. Lady Jemima just sinks to the floor and covers her head with her hands. She starts moaning, ‘No, no, no. This wasn’t part of the plan. It can’t happen like this. I won’t let it. This is
our
world.’

Dan-Dan pauses in the doorway as the others flee. He looks back at
me. I’m stunned to see him smirking. ‘Isn’t this exciting?’ he coos.

‘Run, run as fast you can, fat boy,’ I snarl. ‘But it won’t make any difference. You’re history.’

Dan-Dan snorts. ‘I think not, little girl. I have more lives than a cat. See you later, alligator.’

‘It’ll be sooner than you’d like, crocodile.’

Dan-Dan winks. ‘I’ll be looking forward to the day.’

He skips out,
laughing, leaving me to fend off the zombies and wait for whoever or whatever is coming.

My gut instinct is that Mr Dowling and his mutants are orchestrating the attack. They set me free from prison once before when all seemed lost, and came to my rescue in Leicester Square when it looked like my goose was cooked. They’re making a habit of saving
my sorry neck from the chop. Long may it continue! I just hope they don’t decide to kill me this time. Mr Dowling has shown mercy previously for some unknowable reason, but there’s no telling which way the demented clown will blow when the wind changes direction.

I hang tight to the ducting and wait for the mutants or their master to find me. I’m hoping creepy Owl Man isn’t with them. Then
the door opens and a familiar figure bursts into the room and I realise my gut was just about as wrong as wrong can be.

‘
Rage!
’ I yell, for once with delight instead of contempt.

Rage squints at me. ‘What are you doing up there?’

‘This is what I do for kicks,’ I growl. ‘Now quit gawping and help me, will you?’

‘Wait a minute,’ Rage says and steps outside. ‘She’s here,’ he hollers,
then returns and lays into the zombies.

As Rage shoves the zombies away from me and starts cracking their heads open, Dr Oystein comes running into the room. ‘B!’ he cries, hurrying to where I’m hanging. He offers me his hand and helps me down.

‘Nice to see you, doc,’ I mutter.

‘You too,’ he says politely, then embraces me with a surprisingly strong bear hug. ‘I thought we had lost
you forever.’

‘You don’t get rid of me that easily,’ I chuckle, and hug him in return, burying my face in his chest, wishing I could cry so that I could blink back tears.

The twins race into the room as Dr Oystein releases me. They’re dripping wet but they look ecstatic.

‘We’ve taken control of the deck,’ Cian cheers.

‘Some of the guards are still fighting, but we have them trapped,’ Awnya says.

‘Master Zhang has started a sweep of the lower decks,’ Cian adds. ‘He says you should be cautious until he is certain the ship is ours.’

‘There are children on the deck below this,’ I tell the twins. ‘Make sure nobody hurts them. They were being held captive.’

‘We know all about the children,’ Dr Oystein calms me. ‘We will take good care of them and escort them back to County Hall when
we have concluded our business here.’

‘How did you find me?’ I ask. ‘How did you board the ship? Where –’

A scream stops me short. I look up. An Angel has entered the viewing area on the other side of the glass. It’s Ingrid, the Angel I went on my very first ever mission with. Lady Jemima is backing away from her, eyes wide, shaking her head wildly.

‘Who’s this?’ Ingrid asks me.

‘A bitch who needs putting down,’ I growl.

‘Glad to be of service,’ Ingrid grunts and closes in on the whimpering Lady Jemima. The human shuts her eyes and starts to pray, but why would God heed the prayers of a she-devil? Moments later it’s all over as far as Lady J is concerned.

I push myself away from Dr Oystein. ‘There were five others. They dressed differently to the guards.
Have you seen them?’

‘I saw one on the deck,’ Dr Oystein replies. ‘He was dressed like a prince. He tried to make the gangway. He did not get very far.’

‘I spotted a few heading down the stairs,’ Rage says, pausing to address me over the heads of the zombies. ‘One was dressed like a sailor.’