Read Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Online
Authors: Michael Cairns
Tags: #devil, #god, #Paranormal, #lucifer, #London, #Zombies, #post apocalypse, #apocalypse
Thirteen Roses
An Apocalyptic Zombie Saga
Book Three: Beyond
by
Michael Cairns
Published by Cairns Publishing
Copyright © Michael Cairns (2015)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means without the
prior written permission of the publisher.
1
st
Edition
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This is for Melika.
Bayleigh
Bayleigh glanced at the screen. Six percent. She took a short breath, as though it was the air that was going and not her phone battery. Krystal and Ed were holding hands, trailing after her like she was the pied piper. She wanted to shout at them and ask why they thought she had any idea what she was doing.
She’d never had kids. She’d never even thought about it, not with Dad around. Now though, she guessed she had to. Not enough people in the world to choose otherwise. The light was getting dimmer. It was so gradual she hoped they hadn’t noticed, but she knew. The horrible carvings were now beyond the tiny pool of light her camera threw on the floor and for that she was grateful. It was the only thing she
was
grateful for.
A sound rushed down the tunnel from behind them, a sort of whumping like an explosion had gone off. She ducked and sped up. The others stayed with her and they scurried along the corridor like ants fleeing boiling water.
They had to reach the cavern before her phone gave out. It felt strange in her hand, like a relic of an alien world. There was no one to pick up if she called, no one to return her texts. Facebook was as dead as the millions who were on there. What was social networking without a society? Did the zombies socialise?
Maybe the growling was their language. Maybe they compared the tastes of different corpses, sharing tips on the choicest morsels and how to get raw meat out from between their teeth. Her foot caught on the edge of the tunnel and she staggered. The torch was reduced to a tiny spotlight, no larger than a football. She glanced away and saw the darkness.
She’d never been scared of the dark before, but she couldn’t help imagining the carvings had come alive and were twisting and writhing in pain just beyond the light. Another sound came from above, a howling louder than she’d ever heard, and even down here it made her ears hurt. She gasped and looked at Krystal, but she was almost invisible, only her feet showing in the beam.
This was stupid. She was letting her imagination get the better of her. There was more than enough that could hurt them without needing to dream up extra stuff. She shook her head, bit her lip and quickened her pace. They would see the light from the cavern any moment now. Any moment the glow would appear and her fading battery would cease to matter.
Any moment.
She checked the screen. Three percent. It buzzed and told her to plug it in. She had to grip it very hard to keep from throwing it at the wall.
‘Are we there yet?’
Ed sounded so young she almost burst out laughing. It was a classic question and with it, her shoulders dropped and her breathing slowed. How close had she just come to losing it entirely? Homeless or not, they were relying on her and she was freaking out.
‘Almost there. Keep an eye out for the light.’
The howl came again and reminded her of a movie she’d watched where a dog had found her puppies after they’d been killed by a wild animal. She couldn’t remember what killed them, but she did remember the sound it made as it stood watch over the tiny, pathetic bodies.
‘There, it’s there.’
Krystal, with her sharp young eyes, had spotted the burning glow coming from the cavern. It took Bayleigh another ten steps before she was sure they weren’t imagining it. She held back from breaking into a run, but it was a close thing. She flicked her torch off and slipped it gratefully into her pocket.
She glanced at the walls as the light illuminated the tunnel. They were smooth, free from carvings. She glanced over her shoulder but there was only blackness, nothing to show where they’d come from. They crowded out of the tunnel onto the shelf above the cavern. The kids didn’t say anything but she thought perhaps they were as keen as she was to get out of there.
The lights in the cavern were dimmer than before, the burning lanterns that lined the walls growing short. Some had already gone out. It was silent, abandoned. With no one left alive up above, there was no reason to hide down here. With a sigh of relief, they headed for the steps.
She didn’t look down, simply turned her back and lowered herself onto the first step like it was a rung on a ladder. It was the only way she could imagine getting down them at all. Of course, she managed less than ten steps before she did look down. It was a compulsion, something dragging her head around until she stared past her feet.
It was even steeper from here than from the shelf. The steps were hidden beneath the ones above and it felt like staring straight down a cliff face. One down which she was going to climb.
‘You alright?’
She glanced up, seeing her whitened knuckles on the way. Krystal crouched above her, facing outwards and leaning casually against the steps.
‘Turn around, what are you doing, you’re going to fall.’
‘Hey, take it easy. This isn’t dangerous. I’m fine.’
She sounded so calm and childlike. Only she wasn’t a child. Ed was fourteen and in many ways younger than his years. But Krystal was sixteen, and though she looked younger, she was every one of those years and then some. Bayleigh remembered her coming into the sandwich shop, always too proud to ask for low prices, and always cool about it when she got them.
Her experience of kids was limited, but she’d met twenty year olds who were less savvy and together than Krystal. There was a brittleness there, but she got the feeling it wasn’t as delicate as it seemed.
‘Could you just turn around, for my benefit?’
‘It’s harder for me, going backwards. I’m fine, really, just keep going.’ Krystal looked at her hands gripping the stone and smiled. ‘You’re fine too, really. You want me to go first, in case you slip?’
Without waiting for a response, she slipped past Bayleigh like a spider, one hand and foot on the wall. Then her voice drifted up from below. ‘Right, I’m alright, okay, so just keep coming.’
Bayleigh looked again at her hands and managed a grin.
She
was looking after
them
. Right. She relaxed her hands enough to take one off the step, and lowered herself down. Above, Ed waited patiently. He was coming down the same way as Bayleigh, only a little slower.
She was halfway and managing to look down without freaking out, when she heard it. It sat somewhere between a zombie-growl and the cry of a baby. It was the most horrific sound she’d ever heard and made her ask all sorts of questions. Were there millions of zombie toddlers and babies out there? She had a vision of mothers with sunken eyes and cracking skin sinking yellow teeth into their children and almost fell off the steps.
She bit her lip until her eyes watered, clinging to the rock. The sound came again and she unfroze, scrambling down far faster than before.
‘What is it?’ Ed was a little way above her and stopped, craning his neck to look up.
‘Just keep coming. It’s up in the tunnel, it’s far away, don’t worry about it. Just keep coming.’
‘What is it, though?’
‘I don’t know. Ed, keep moving.’
She stopped, watching him. He was motionless, still peering up.
‘Ed, COME ON.’
Her shout echoed around the cavern and the horrible sound stopped mid-cry. Her hands were shaking and her shoulders were on fire. They had to get down to the ground. She could fight anything with her feet on solid ground. She started moving but Ed was still frozen. Her shout had stopped him looking up but now he stared at his hands.
‘Shit.’ Krystal swore as she scrambled back up past Bayleigh.
‘Krystal, get down.’
‘Not leaving him. You need to move or you’ll slow us down.’
The edge she’d had when she came in the shop was back. Just like that, Bayleigh was back on the outside, no longer needed or wanted. She resumed her descent, one grip at a time. Krystal had reached Ed and was muttering in his ear. Bayleigh longed to go back up but Krystal was right, she’d just get in the way.
Her foot slipped and she grabbed the rock as her entire body trembled. She found her grip again and whimpered. The ground was still too far away. Ed was moving one foot at a time, with Krystal literally holding his legs as he stepped down. But he was moving. And if he could, then surely it should be easy for her.
She set off, nodding to convince herself. She could do this. She could do this. She repeated it over and over as she moved, every hand or foot a step closer to safety. Then the howl came again.
It was louder. The growling was made terrible by the babyish edge, like a toddler with a really bad throat. But it was a toddler in pain, trying to free itself from agony that refused to change or lessen. She felt sorry for it, even though it sent sweat streaming down her back and pooling beneath her arms. What the hell was it?
It was a zombie. The growl was too familiar to be anything else. But what sort of a zombie. And why was it coming down here? She was still moving. Her limbs were mechanical and jerky but still moving. Ed was coming too, Krystal helping, still murmuring calmly in his ear. How did she do it?
Maybe she’d seen worse in her life on the streets. Doubtful. But Bayleigh couldn’t begin to imagine what her life had been like, or what had driven her to being there in the first place. She pictured Krystal’s home life before she ran away, imagining who her mother and father had been. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but it helped block out the sound and the endless descent.
When her feet touched the bottom, she refused to believe it. She kept hold of the steps, venturing out slowly with her feet until she was convinced the floor was solid. Only then did she let go and look up.
And she saw it.
First she saw Ed and Krystal, further away than she’d expected, still struggling down the steps. But beyond them, crouching over the edge of the shelf far above, was something from her nightmares. If she dreamt of those sorts of things, of course. These days, well, she couldn’t remember the last time she dreamt, or slept.
She thought at first it was a dog, red-furred and shaggy. Then she saw the face, lit up momentarily as one of the burning lanterns flared. It was human. And it was a child. Huge eyes peered out from snubby features, still wrinkled and pink. It pulled its lips back from a mouth filled with teeth, yellowing and sharp. It had teeth. It looked like it had just been born, its fur slick with fluids. It had fur.