Thirteen Roses Book One: Before: An Apocalyptic Zombie Saga (12 page)

'A few?'

'Well, about thirty years I think.'

'Oh, well, in that case, drink up.'

He topped up his cup and Luke stared despondently into it. What the hell. He tipped it back and slouched, staring at the wall. He hated sitting this side of the table and with a grunt, got up and switched around, pushing Seph along so he could join him on the bench.
 

The room had got fuller in the last few minutes and they watched in silence. There was nothing like the bar when it got busy. In front of their table stood three women, none more than six or seven stone despite the wings emerging from their back. They were pale blue, with darker blue slashes on their faces and naked chests. They were tiny, every part of them miniature and delicate. Seraphims, possibly, though no one really knew anymore. Once the religions blended, no one could keep track of them.
 

Beyond them was an obvious one. A hugely fat guy with skin the colour of beaten bronze and a third eye in his forehead the size of a plate. He chuckled at something his angelic companion said and his rolls of fat shook like jelly. He turned to stare at Luke and his eyes were very different to his face, piercing and cold.
 

'I know.'

Was that what he said? It looked like it but he'd already turned back to the angel, still chuckling. Luke shook his head and turned his attention back to the table. 'What's the Father coming down here for?'

Az snorted and sat up, stretching and rolling his shoulders, grooming finished for the moment. 'The 'Father' has his reasons, I'm sure. Not that we'll ever know them.'

Seph and Luke both looked at him, eyebrows raised in a strangely identical way. Az glanced from one to the other.
 

'C'mon, you know the drill. He'll make some grand proclamation about how we aren't doing our jobs properly and bugger off. Then a few people'll disappear and we'll spend the next fifty years running from our shadows until everyone forgets.'

He had a point. Not a very nice one, but accurate. Luke nodded. 'Yeah, fair enough. Who's going to disappear?'

Both his friends leant forwards, eyes fixed on him.
 

Interlude Part Two

'Who's going to disappear, then?'

His friends looked at him and he shivered. He was rare because he'd been disappeared before. But the Father wouldn't send him back there, not so soon after releasing him. So where would he go? And it would be him, no doubt about that. Seph leaned forwards, grinning. 'Weekly total probably doesn't seem so important now, huh?'

'You're supposed to be my friend. Where's the sympathy?'

Seph chuckled and shook his head. 'I have plenty of sympathy, I just find it funny. After everything you've been through, it comes down to one stupid bastard human screwing everything up for you. Typical really.'

'I could just kill him. And her. The baby would never be born and--'

'Don't. Don't even think it. They can pick up on that, you know.' Seph nodded towards the row of heads that lined one of the red velvet walls. A set of jars, twelve in total, each bearing a head. Every head possessed a wild mane of hair that floated in the liquid encased within the jar. Every head also contained a pair of eyes that never stopped moving, flicking this way and that around the room.
 

'What am I supposed to do then?'

Seph shrugged. 'Right now? Get drunk. Tomorrow? Make sure the week ends at three-four. You've got more of an argument then.'

Luke took a long breath and let it out his nose. He drained his cup again and slammed it down. 'Bollocks to that. I'm finding Sara, I need to know.'

'She won't tell you, not till tomorrow.'

Luke ignored him, rising from the bench. The roomed swayed as he lurched upright and he grabbed the table. Az chuckled. 'Take it easy, little man, this stuff's strong.'

Luke gave them both a curt nod and made his way across the room, considerably slower than on the way in. He finally escaped the crush and gasped in a breath of moderately cool air. The room still spun and he leaned against the door frame. More people were still coming in, everyone talking about the same thing.
 

Herc ambled over and grinned down at him. 'Looking worse for wear there, Luke. Will you be alright get--'

'You ever seen it so busy?'

Herc cast his gaze across the room, unfazed by the interruption. He nodded thoughtfully. 'A few times. Normally when the Father is coming. Everyone gets scared and when people are scared they find other people, it's the way of the world.'

'This isn't the world.'

'As above, so below, my friend.'

Luke snorted and staggered away down the corridor. Sara would be working. She never stopped, which was a shame because he'd love to see her in a less formal setting. He found the right corridor from the myriad spokes that led from the central hall.
 

There was a stage already set up, lectern in place. Luke snorted again. He pictured himself up there and shuddered. He turned his back and headed down the long corridor. The walls were a pleasant change from the rough brick of his chamber, shining white marble lined with huge columns.
 

He sniggered as the columns blurred and doubled and tripled. He paused, taking deep breaths. The whole place reeked of superiority and arrogance, and despite being here for centuries, it still felt nothing like home. He reached her door and paused again, swaying side to side. What had they been drinking?

Sara's door was like her, beautifully carved and ornate, and just a little bit alien. He knocked and the sound went straight through his skull. He groaned, scrunching up his face. He must have looked bad because Sara giggled when she opened the door.
 

It may have been the drink, but she was looking even more lovely than usual. Her dark skin glowed and her almond-shaped eyes smiled along with her full wide mouth. There was something about her that made the noise stop and the worry slip away. All he had to do was look at her and he felt something close to peaceful.
 

She wore her normal red and purple formal dress, pinned high on one side of her chest. It cut across her legs above her knees, at just the right height to set his curiosity aflame without giving anything away. She never gave anything away. He realised as she stepped back and invited him in, that coming here was a waste of time. Still, it was worth it to watch her hips sway as she returned to her desk.
 

He wanted to know why she got a chamber here, warm and safe, while he and the others had theirs above. But who would he ask? Maybe when the Father visited, he could ask him. Perhaps he'd take questions after the speech. He grinned and Sara raised one, perfect eyebrow.
 

'Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what you find funny?'

Even her voice, softly Indian but speaking perfect English. He shuddered and tried to adjust his trousers without being too obvious. 'Nothing, really, just thinking about the Father's visit.'

Her face changed, the formality dropping for a second as she leaned forwards. 'Do you know why he's coming?'

Luke chuckled. Everyone thought he had some line to the Father, as though the two of them still talked. They hadn't spoken since he returned to work, but he kept that quiet. You never knew what you could pick up when people wanted something from you.
 

'Not a clue. He never tells me anything.' He said it with just enough of a smile to make it clear he was lying. It was easy to do, it was all anyone ever expected of him. If only they knew... 'But perhaps you can tell me something. And then perhaps if I find something out, I can let you know.'

She nodded eagerly and he leaned casually against the wall. The wall which was, unfortunately, a little further away than he thought. Once he'd got his balance back and cleared his throat plenty of times, and dragged his eyes from her gorgeous smile, he spoke. 'My subject today. Have you done the numbers yet?'

She shook her head, long dark hair flicking about. 'You know I can't tell you that, Luke.'

'That's a shame. Well, I'll be off then.'

'What, is that it? You're going, just like that?'

'You'd like me to stay?'

She traced her finger down the arm of her chair, looking at him through long eyelashes. 'Maybe for just a little while. It's so boring here, all on my own.'

He took a step across the room towards her, his breath catching in his chest. She was toying with him, he knew it, but it made no difference. 'I could stay, I suppose. But it's difficult.'

Luke pulled a chair over from the wall and plonked himself down. She leaned closer still and he caught her scent. It was jasmine and something else that made the hair on his arms stand up. 'You see, without knowing where I am with my weekly total, I can't relax, I can't really do anything properly.'

Sara let out an exaggerated sigh and turned back to her desk. 'I cannot tell you the results of today's work. However...' She swept her hair off her neck, showing him the smooth soft skin that ran into her dress. 'I could, I suppose, tell you where you are for the week. That isn't strictly forbidden.'

His heart leapt into his mouth and he nodded vigorously before he caught himself. When she turned back, he was slouching in his chair, arms folded casually and a look of what he hoped was mild interest on his face. In truth, he looked a little like he was about to topple off the chair, but it worked, because she gave him another smile and nodded.
 

'You are at three on either side. Tomorrow will decide. You haven't been this close for a long while. Have you had difficult subjects?'

He nodded and let out a long breath. 'Unbelievable. People I had no chance of saving. Bloody ridiculous.'

'Well, it seems fitting that your decision day is tomorrow, when the Father will be here in the evening. Perhaps he already knows the result.'

Her smile was faintly mocking. She changed so suddenly and the warm glow he'd been working on fled at the thought. 'He can't know the result. Free will, remember?'

'But how true is that ever? You are supposed to be an agent of free will, yet you spend your days…' she glanced down at her desk, '…stranding people in fictional worlds and unleashing hordes of ghosts on them.'

She had an excellent point. But if free will was an illusion, why was he bothering at all? That took him back to the questions that had been plaguing him for the last few months. Why did he bother? He'd paid his dues and done what he agreed. He could have left years ago, so why was he still here, still working?

He flushed, the buzz left over from the booze beginning to fade. He knew the answer. How else could he visit Earth every day, if not by working there? He cocked his head to one side, eyes fixed on the tiny dimples that formed where Sara's lips ended.
 

'How do you do it?'

'Do what?'

'How do you work here, all day every day, when you never get to go to Earth?'

'Why would I want to go to Earth?'

He opened his mouth and closed it again. She'd never been there. She'd never tasted the thousands of emotions and beliefs and values that filled the air like perfume. She had no idea what she was missing. There was no way to explain it. It was like describing the wind, or a colour and just as meaningless. He shook his head, lurching up from his chair.
 

'I'd better go. Big day tomorrow.'

She pouted and made a mock sad face. He risked putting his hand on her cheek, but she leaned into it and her eyes closed for a moment.
 

'You really don't have to go.'

She was telling the truth. He could stay as long as he wanted. How had he not noticed before? He sat again and leaned forwards until their faces were almost touching.
 

'Shouldn't you be working?'

'I can work while you sleep. It's time for my break.'

She stood and walked past her desk to a plain wall. It opened as she approached and the rest of her chamber came into view. The bed was huge and carved just as the door. She lived as befitted a minor goddess and moved like one as well. He shifted in his seat and when she turned and beckoned, he was off it like he was running a race.
 

Taylor Part One

Her head hurt. No, hurt wasn't the right word. Hurt was when you cut your finger, or grazed your knee. Her head... imagine a car striking you dead in the hip, so your upper body went one way and your lower body the other, and every bone was wrenched and torn. She knew how that felt, because it happened a few years ago. She remembered the pain like it was yesterday. This was worse than that.
 

She leaned her head over the edge of the bed and made coughing motions until bile filled her mouth. She fell to the floor and staggered out the room. Her hand went to the bathroom door and she realised it wasn't there. In fact, the walls had changed colour and the carpet was different. Her mouth filled with sick and she turned first one way, then the other, then dumped it onto the carpet.
 

A face appeared from another room and stared at her. It was a face she vaguely recognised, though she couldn't say where from. It spoke. 'Oh man, did you have to?' Then it vanished. She staggered back into the room from which she'd come and looked at the bed. It wasn't her bed.
 

It finally dawned on her that she wasn't at home. The sun rose a second time when she looked at the bed and saw a man she didn't recognise. She shifted from foot to foot and wriggled. And they'd had sex. She took two steps and dropped to her knees, hands holding her head. Where was she? And why was her head about to fall off?

She dug about for her clothes, crawling around on all fours. After a few, head-pounding minutes, she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt, found her jacket and staggered out into the hallway.
 

The stairs proved tricky but she got down them without dying, which was enough of a triumph to punch the air. She paused as the movement made her gorge rise. She wrestled with the front door, a battle it spent a good five minutes winning, before wrenching it open and stepping out into bright sunlight.