Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (3 page)

‘He won’t let them hurt me, will he?’

‘I don’t know. Listen, what is he telling you?’

Jackson listened. He stared at the kids and listened with all his might, but all he could hear was their hatred and the thick breathing of the woman beside him. Nothing. God didn’t want to speak to him.
 

He woke, eyes popping open and closing again as the light clawed its greedy way in. His breathing was loud and for a second he thought it was the children. He blinked a few times and groaned. Mam had never called him honey. But she was fading already, along with the children. Except their eyes. They were as fresh in his mind as though they stood right in front of him.
 

He closed his eyes and listened, awake but still hoping. What did God want him to do? He knew he wanted him to stop the zombies and end the plague. He knew that more strongly than he had ever known anything. But how and who with? That remained a mystery, shrouded in the silence that filled his mind.
 

He was in a solid white room, strip lights blaring at him. He lay on a bed, single like those that contained the ladies in the tent. In fact, he may as well have been in the tent, for all the white surrounding him. But the walls were solid and spoke to him no more than God did.
 

He sat, stretched, and rubbed his head where the gun had hit him. They said they didn’t trust him. Did they really need to knock him out? He’d have done exactly the same. He swung his legs off the bed and stood. He rolled his head, stretching his neck to a series of satisfying clicks. He felt groggy. How long had he been asleep?

He tried the door and got nothing. He tried harder and got the same response. Damn them, he only wanted to help. He pictured the woman in the bed, her breast soft and yielding beneath his hand. He wanted to help. He wanted to battle the zombies and he wanted to repopulate the world. A world filled with tiny Jacksons. That was what God wanted. Why else keep him alive when all around him were dying?

He sat back against the bed and waited. There was no hurry. The zombies weren’t going anywhere and neither were the women. He didn’t have long to wait.
 

The door clicked open and a man in a grey robe entered, gas mask strapped to his face. He nodded superficially to Jackson and stayed by the door, arms folded.
 

‘You want to help?’

‘I do. I am chosen by God. How long have I been asleep?’

‘About twelve hours. You were tired.’

‘You knocked me out.’

‘Who are you?’

‘My name’s Jackson. I was a criminal. I was evil, then an angel showed me the way and now I work for God.’

‘So you say. Prove it to me.’

‘Take off your gas mask.’

‘I can’t.’

‘There’s your proof. I’ve been saved for the sole purpose of defeating the zombies and bringing new life to Earth. That’s why I’m here and there’s only one who could have done this. I’m chosen, deal with it.’

The man raised his eyebrows and nodded reluctantly. ‘That’s as maybe. Why do you want to join us?’

‘You’re the soldiers of God, right?’
 

‘That is correct.’

‘Well then.’

The man stared at him, as though expecting more. Jackson stared right back and waited.
 

‘Come with me.’

They left the room and walked down a narrow corridor, all white. At the end the man stepped straight through the wall and he followed, out into St Paul’s. They made a bee line for the tent but walked across the front of it instead of going in. On the far side was another tent, much smaller and dark grey in colour.

The man stopped at the front and cleared his throat.
 

‘Commander, I have the black man.’

Jackson blinked, not quite believing what he heard. From within the tent a jovial voice requested he be sent in. The man stepped to the side and weathered Jackson’s glare as he stalked past and into the tent.
 

Within sat a man in a pure white robe, smile lifting his cheeks where they emerged from his gas mask. ‘Welcome, please sit down’

Jackson stared at him for a moment. The guy was white bread in every way. He’d never done a day’s work in his life and he’d never had to try for anything. His hands would be soft. He stepped up to the desk and stuck his hand out. The man looked at it like it was going to bite him, then took it, shaking with a predictably weak wrist.
 

Jackson sneered and sat. ‘You’re very confident, letting me in here all alone.’

Another smile. ‘I am protected by the Lord.’

‘Funny, that’s what your man outside said. So how come you’re wearing a gas mask?’

The robe frowned, just a little, and it was Jackson’s turn to smile. ‘Tell you what. How about we count up all the people in here who ain’t wearing gas masks and get
them
to take charge. Because if you were really protected by the Lord, you wouldn’t need it. Tell you what, why don’t you take it off right now and we’ll see just how much God loves you.’

He sat forward as he spoke, putting his hands on the desk. The man backed away, pushing his chair until it caught on a stone and almost tipped over. Jackson sat back down, grinning, showing teeth. ‘Yeah, what I thought. Think you might need some help here. I’ve been chosen and if you’re really lucky, I’ll let you help me.’

The man settled himself, patting his legs and smoothing his robes down. ‘We will, of course, welcome any help you can offer. But as to you taking charge, I really cannot allow that. You have no idea of the bigger picture here and I fear you aren’t the sort to understand even were I to explain it.’

Jackson nearly hit him. Arrogant bastard. Instead he rocked back on his chair and raised an eyebrow. ‘Why don’t you explain it? Tell me your big plans and we’ll see whether I can handle them.’

The man stood and walked past Jackson to the entrance. He muttered something to the man outside and came back in. When he sat, his brow was furrowed and his eyes were burning. He leant forward and placed his arms on the desk. ‘My name is Etienne. We have been planning this for a very long time.’

‘Looks like it. Where d’you get the plague?’

Etienne’s face lit up. ‘Now that is the most remarkable thing of all. It came to us, fully formed and perfect for our plan only weeks ago. We were preparing to use something else, something far less effective. But this was perfect.’

‘Where’d it come from?’

‘We stole it from the government. They would have used it to make war and spread fear. Now there is no war, no fear. There is no hunger, no famine, no misery. There is only us.’

He leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. It wasn’t, Jackson noticed, in the least bit fat. The robes concealed it, but this guy was tough, big shoulders and strong forearms where they peeked free of his sleeves. Was the hand shake just a front?
 

‘So you’ve stopped all fear and pain. Well done. What next?’

‘In the tent outside… well, you’ve already seen it I believe. In that tent are the brightest and most beautiful of God’s children. They have been… harvested and brought into the fold. We are waiting now for the plague to clear, to dissipate enough for us to relinquish our gas masks. Once that happens we can begin to repopulate the world.’

‘The world? So you’ve done this other places too?’

‘Everywhere God holds sway and even the places where they do not yet know him. It had to be everywhere or it wouldn’t work. While there was government anywhere on Earth, there would be someone to fight back and a return to the fear.’

‘Aren’t you the government now, though?’

‘We aren’t government. Rulers are not needed when God’s love shines on all. All men are equal—’

‘Which explains the different colour robes.’

‘The robes are sigils, signs of the each man’s role in the new world. They no more confer importance than name or skin colour.’

‘But he still called me ‘the black man’.’

‘You are rare among the soldiers here in England. In America and Africa you would blend in, one of the flock. But here, we are a mostly white congregation.’

Jackson nodded and sniffed. No surprise there. ‘That ain’t the most complex of plans, you know. I think I could run that one.’

‘So what should we do now? The plague is not yet gone but our ladies in waiting must awaken soon and take on food.’

‘So? Wake them up, give them food and put them back to sleep. But hey, they can do their job with the gas masks on. So can you.’

Etienne’s face paled slightly and he shook his head. ‘I won’t be taking a role in that part of the plan. That is for the young men who have been checked and tested. Speaking of which, if you wish to be a part of it, you too must undergo testing.’

‘You don’t need to test me, I can get it up.’

‘The testing isn’t for that. It is to ascertain whether you have any genetic defects or diseases that may be transferred to your child.’

‘Nothing wrong with my genes.’

‘That’s very reassuring, but you will still have to be tested.’

Jackson sniffed again and folded his arms. ‘Didn’t answer my question. Why not just get on with it, gas masks and all?’

‘That isn’t how the Lord would wish it. These are the first children to be born into this world.’ He stopped and looked at his hands. Jackson saw that they were shaking. He was gripping the edge of the desk like he was about to fall off the floor.
 

‘What?’

Etienne shook his head. ‘Nothing. We had an incident while you slept. It’s nothing.’ He cleared his throat. ‘These are the first children to be born into the new world and they must be the result of true unions, unions of love and tenderness.’

‘Hang on. These women you got. Did they volunteer for this?’

‘Some. A few. Most were… convinced.’

‘Then there’s no way there’s to be any ‘tenderness in these unions’. You’ll be lucky if your soldier boys don’t get their dicks bitten off.’

Etienne frowned. ‘That remains to be seen. Once they understand what has happened in the world while they slept, I believe they will see the true extent of the blessing we have bestowed upon them.’

Jackson snorted. ‘We’ll see. So when do they take off the gas masks?’

‘We are testing the plague. We have a good number of test subjects we are exposing at regular intervals. Once one survives, the masks come off.’

‘Do you have any idea when that’ll happen?’

‘We expected it to have already happened.’ Another frown. ‘No, no idea.’

‘When you said you have complex plans, what you mean is you have a vague idea of what you think’s gonna happen, right?’

Etienne flushed and tapped the desk. ‘Reaching this point has taken many years of careful planning and manoeuvring and—’

‘And now it’s a free for all. You need me more than you think.’

‘We don’t need anyone. We don’t need me. The soldiers of God will operate without any single part in place. It is how we have been so successful for so long.’

‘Mmm. What now?’

Etienne opened his mouth but a soldier popped his head through the tent flap and cleared his throat. ‘Leader, apologies for the interruption, but the second captive has woken up.’

‘Splendid.’ The frown left Etienne’s face as he beamed at Jackson. ‘This is what now. I have a task for you. You are here because you are chosen by God, correct?’

Jackson nodded.
 

‘So how do you explain the presence of this other gentleman? If his ramblings are anything to go by, he is not in complete control of his mind. Is he chosen too? Or maybe it is something biological, something inherent within him. Our scientists are keen to find out. I’d like you to join them. Something a little more forceful than their normal ministrations may be needed…’

‘You want me to torture him?’

‘Indeed.’

Jackson grinned and stood. This was God’s will.
 

David

He woke to faces clad in gas masks, and fingers poking and prodding him. He tried to speak and they shoved a tube down his throat. He started to cough and a hand went over his nose and mouth. They were suffocating him. Sweat broke over his forehead and his coughing dried up. The hand was removed and he explored the tube with his tongue.
 

The poking stopped and they went away. He sunk gratefully back into sleep.
 

More poking, more prodding. Voices, loud and inconsiderate of his sleep. He went back quickly enough once they were gone.
 

It was silent when he woke again. The ceiling was white. The walls were white. The sheets that wrapped him and trapped him in the bed were white. He blinked and squeezed his eyes closed in the hope his headache would go. It didn’t. The tube was gone.
 

He tried to sit but the sheets held him firm. He tried to move his arms but straps wrapped tight around them. He twitched then spasmed, throwing his body this way and that. His legs were strapped as well. He snarled and wriggled and twisted and remained pretty much exactly where he was.

He was the wind.
 

They had tied down the wind.
 

He couldn’t be tied down, he couldn’t.
 

He was the wind.
 

‘I’M THE WIND!’

His voice bounced dully off the walls, like they drank the sound and spat out the bits they didn’t want. He giggled, tongue sticking out between his chapped lips. Memories of the last two days swam past him, hundreds of tiny fish each bearing a picture on it. He saw zombies and the people he had traveled with. Where were they? Were they in other rooms, strapped down as he was?

Another picture floated past, of Bayleigh and the children watching him go. They escaped. Did they escape? He hoped so. They were nice. They looked at him funny, but they were nice. Nicer than the big man who talked about God all the time. He was frightening. They thought David was mad, but Jackson was really insane. He believed in God the same way children did eternity and fairies. There was no doubt there.
 

The door opened and he twisted to watch them come in. One of the robed men, gas mask on, came first. Behind him came Jackson. David screamed and rolled away, staring at the wall. He was imagining it. He was dreaming. This wasn’t happening. Maybe they were bringing him in to strap him down as well. He blinked furiously. When he looked again, the big man would be gone.