Zom-B Mission (6 page)

There’s none of the joking that there usually is. We’re all alert, taking this seriously, saying nothing, senses trained on the area around us, ready to react to the slightest hint of an attack.

We slip by Westminster Station. There are scores of zombies down there,
but luck is on our side and there aren’t any resting near the entrance. We pass like ghosts, unchallenged.

Ignoring the Houses of Parliament, we cross the Square and head down the road to St James’s Park. We haven’t gone very far when luck deserts us. Figures spill out of one of the buildings to our left. Five zombies rush us, sights fixed on the pair of humans in our midst.

Ashtat and
I protect Emma and Declan while the boys deal with the zombies. It’s short and sharp. We’ve spent months fine-tuning our skills. On top of that we’ve fed regularly, we haven’t had to trawl the streets for dried-up scraps of brain, so we’re at our physical and mental best.

Rage and Shane each take out a couple of zombies, shattering their skulls with carefully placed blows. Carl dispatches
the fifth, calmly bashing the guy’s head against the pavement to crush his brain. I wince at the thuds and spray of splintered bone and blood. I know these people are already dead, that we’re doing them a favour by putting them out of action. But it never feels right.

A lone female zombie darts from the shadows of a building on our right. Ashtat deals with her, whirling gracefully to deliver
a kick to the undead woman’s head that Bruce Lee would have been proud of. The woman’s skull must have been damaged prior to this, because her head explodes like a rotten pumpkin.

‘Gross,’ Ashtat squeals, trying to shake goo from her foot.

‘I don’t like this,’ Emma moans, clutching Declan tightly, looking around fearfully. I can tell that she’s thinking of running.

‘It’s OK,’ I calm
her. ‘You’re safe with us. We know what we’re doing.’

‘But we’re attracting attention,’ she whines as another three zombies stream out of the building that the female came from.

‘Not for long,’ I promise, although I can’t guarantee that. We could come under attack every step of the way to Hammersmith.

Jakob is fast. He races ahead of the others to tackle the new threat. Carl isn’t
far behind—he leaps through the air like a giant grasshopper and lands among the trio. ‘Come to Daddy,’ he chuckles grimly, laying into the unsuspecting zombies. The living dead never fight among themselves. It confuses them when we turn on our own. If they could think, they’d consider us traitors to the cause.

Ashtat and I push on with Emma and Declan. Rage and Shane slot into place around us.

‘The Cabinet War Rooms are just up there,’ Rage says cheerfully, nodding as we come to a corner. ‘Churchill had his bunker there in the Second World War. Fancy checking them out?’

‘I don’t think this is the time for sightseeing,’ I snarl as a look of panic shoots across Emma’s face. ‘He’s
only joking,’ I tell her.

‘Yeah,’ Rage says. ‘Don’t worry, love. I have a warped sense of humour.’

We make St James’s Park and head for the lake, where we pause and wait for the others to catch up. This place used to teem with wildlife, exotic birds and tourist-friendly squirrels, but nothing larger than an insect moves in the park today. Zombies prefer human brains, but they can feast
on animals too. The only creatures still roaming the city are those whose brains are too small to be of any interest to the undead, or those who are cunning enough to have learnt to lie low and hide.

Carl and Jakob catch up. Carl is grinning, wiping blood from his hands with clumps of grass. Jakob looks as serious as ever.

Emma is panting hard. ‘I don’t think this was a good idea. Maybe
we should go back.’

‘It will be fine,’ Ashtat assures her.

‘We don’t have to worry so much in the parks,’ I tell her. ‘Reviveds mostly stick to the shadows in the daytime. They avoid open spaces like this.’

‘What about when we get back on to the streets again?’ she says.

I shrug. ‘There are zombies everywhere. But you knew that before we set out. It’s a risk, but not the biggest
gamble in the world. You stand a better chance with us than you would on your own.’

‘But if we returned to County Hall . . .’ Emma wavers.

‘We can if you want,’ Rage sniffs. ‘But then you’re stuck with us for the rest of your days. What do you think, Declan? Do you want to come home with your undead Uncle Rage?’

Declan says nothing, but turns his face away and buries it in his
mother’s skirt.

‘If you want to retreat, tell us and we’ll take you,’ Carl says patiently. ‘But if you’re going to change your mind, now’s the time. We can slip back without any hassle. Nobody can predict how many of the buggers might be lying in wait for us further on.’

Emma hesitates, torn between hope and fear. Nobody says anything. It’s not our job to persuade her one way or the
other, merely to help her however we can.

‘OK,’ she finally croaks. ‘We’ll go on.’

‘Great,’ Shane beams. ‘You know it makes sense.’

We advance, holding our formation around the shivering humans. As I said to Emma, it should be safe in the park, but we don’t take chances. A zombie could have carved a niche for itself in one of the trees, or dug a hole in the soil and be lying covered
by twigs and leaves, or be resting at the bottom of the shallow lake with its mouth closed and its nose pinched shut. We stay alert, taking nothing for granted, each one of us all too aware that in this world of the living dead a single mistake can be the end of you.

TEN

We hike through St James’s Park, skirt Buckingham Palace and enter Green Park. That links up with Hyde Park, and soon we’re strolling along as if on a fun day out. We stick to the middle of the park, so we have a clear view in all directions.

We relax our guard slightly and Emma lets Declan run around, chasing after him, playing games. But we don’t let either of them slip too
far away, wary of hidden threats.

The grass has grown wild since the downfall of mankind. Old scraps of rubbish blow across it. Weeds snake through the bones of human carcasses. But this is still a soothing place. In these green stretches it’s possible to imagine that the apocalypse never happened. If I use my imagination, it could be a quiet Sunday morning, early, before any joggers or
tourists are about. I might be on my way home from an all-night party, Mum and Dad waiting for me, angry but concerned, school on Monday, boring but reassuring, all my friends to catch up with.

I shake my head and frown. There’s no use thinking that way. The world’s gone to hell and the only way to deal with it is to accept it for what it is. No point trying to live in the past. That’s
for saps.

We eventually run out of park and pause to prepare for the next stretch. It’s a fairly straight, wide road most of the way to Hammersmith. On paper it’s a doddle. In the flesh it looks a lot less straightforward.

‘What about a car?’ Emma asks, spotting one stranded in the road nearby.

‘The noise would draw attention,’ Carl tells her.

‘But we could move faster than the
zombies, couldn’t we?’ she persists.

‘Yes,’ Carl says, ‘but they could attack from the side or throw themselves in the way and make us crash. Then we’d be trapped and they’d just have to swarm round the car and force their way in.’

‘It will be fine,’ Ashtat reassures Emma. ‘You survived on the streets for months, and that was without our help.’

‘But I didn’t move about this much,’
Emma says. ‘I only travelled short distances any time I left my base. And I kept to the shadows. We’ll be in full view of any watching zombies out here.’

‘That’s the best place to be,’ I chuckle, pointing at the hole in my chest. ‘When they see this, and some of our other wounds, they’ll know we’re undead. Seeing us in the mix, they’ll assume we’re all zombies. I mean, everyone knows that
zombies and the living don’t get along, right?’

Emma licks her lips nervously. ‘If you’re sure . . .’

‘We are,’ Rage grunts and we move out of the park and on to the road.

Things go more smoothly than we anticipated. We’re attacked several times, but by individuals or small groups. And they only cause us any difficulties if they’re hiding behind cars and leap out at us suddenly as
we approach. The rest – the ones lounging in buildings on either side of the road – are easy to deal with, as we see them coming from a long way off and have plenty of time to get ready for them.

‘This is too easy,’ Shane mutters as he rips another zombie’s brain from its skull then wipes his hand clean on the back of the dead creature’s shirt.

‘Don’t get cocky,’ I snap.

‘I’m not,’
he says. ‘I’m worried. When you have things this easy, it usually means you’re going to run into all kinds of trouble later.’

‘Don’t be a pessimist,’ Carl grunts, but I know he’s thinking the same thing. We all are, except maybe Rage. He’s the sort of guy who always expects a smooth ride, since he figures the world was made for him in the first place.

But despite our fears the big catastrophe
fails to materialise. We aren’t attacked by gangs. We never need to break formation or run. We don’t end up trapped in a building with no way out.

In a weird way it’s an anti-climax. We were ready for fireworks, but we barely have to bloody our fists. Still, I guess that’s a good thing, if not for us, then definitely for Emma and Declan.

We run into a minor problem in Hammersmith.
There’s a flyover we want to pass under, but the shaded area is packed with zombies. A few catch sight of us and get to their feet. For a second it looks like we’re in trouble. But then they spot the hole in my chest and the green moss growing from the cuts on some of the others. The zombies lie down again, not bothering to shuffle forward to investigate more closely, never realising that there
are a couple of jokers in the pack.

We find another way around, making use of side roads, and arrive at our destination as the midday sun is burning bright in the sky. The humans are holed up in a block of offices. We pause outside the entrance and stare at the building. It still feels like we’ve had it too easy. I half-expect Mr Dowling and his mutants to come abseiling down.

Instead
what happens is something almost as surprising, but nowhere near as alarming. Declan speaks for the first time since I’ve known him.

‘Doggy.’

All of us gawp at the normally silent boy. Emma’s face lights up and she hugs him, then starts to cry happily. Maybe she thought he would never speak again. But Declan ignores her tears. He’s looking at the road behind us and he points over her
shoulder.

‘Doggy,’ he says again.

‘Bloody hell,’ Shane laughs. ‘He’s not wrong. Look.’

We slipped under a rising entry barrier on our way into the yard surrounding the building. Now when I look back, I spot a large, hairy sheepdog standing on the other side.

‘Isn’t it beautiful,’ Ashtat coos as I do a stunned double take. She drops to her knees and makes a clicking noise with her
tongue and teeth. ‘Here, doggy.’

The dog ignores her. Its tail isn’t wagging. It’s staring at us.

The sheepdog is white at the front, turning to grey further back. Its hair is dirty and matted with dried bloodstains. The others are enchanted by it, not having seen a live dog since before the zombies rose up and killed them all for their brains. They join Ashtat in calling and whistling,
trying to get it to come closer.

I’m less excited by the dog. In fact I’m seriously disturbed. When I was making my way to Timothy’s gallery after Rage had pushed me off the London Eye, I came across a dog just like this. It was resting in the road and ran off when I tried to get it to come. It had the same markings and stains as this one.

Maybe the dog followed me and has been trailing
me ever since, but I doubt it. I would surely have seen it before if it had made its home close to County Hall. So what other explanations are there? Is it coincidence that our paths have crossed again? Or perhaps it’s a different dog that just looks the same?

I glance around, uneasy but not sure why. As Ashtat and the rest call to the dog and click their fingers, I suddenly shout at it,
‘Get out of here, you ugly mutt!’