Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (12 page)

They were close to the pavement when the first zombie came. ‘Stay standing,’ she shouted it as she let him go. He put both hands out to balance himself and swayed side to side. Krystal leapt onto the bonnet of the nearest car, skipped across it and swung her sword like a golf club. It went straight through the zombie’s face, splitting it in half and splattering pieces of nose and brains across the bonnet of a nice white Mini.
 

She hustled back to him and they moved on. By the time they reached the house he could no longer breathe, his chest hitching and stabbing over and over again. He hadn’t imagined pain could be this intense but it wasn’t stopping. His face and back were drenched in sweat, his socks damp in his shoes.
 

She dragged him around the back and in through the door of the kitchen. It was a tiny two-up two-down, which suited their needs just perfectly. She got him as far as the lounge and the two extraordinarily comfortable-looking sofas before she let him go. She disappeared for a moment and returned with a glass of water and a packet of aspirin. He downed four, lay back, and the blackness washed over him.
 

Dave

Ed was easy to talk to. The others always seemed confused around him, as though they expected something else. But Ed was happy to talk about games and movies and anything else that went through his mind. Dave couldn’t remember much but each time Ed mentioned something he’d once known, it was like a tiny film in his head.
 

He thought they were memories maybe. Little slices of a life he neither remembered nor cared about. He knew it was a bad time and there had been something wrong with him. He knew more than that, because he knew how to eat and use the toilet and how to have a conversation and all sorts of things. He thought he could remember more, if he wanted to. He could lift the blanket that covered his memories and they’d all come spilling out.
 

But he didn’t think it was a good idea. He didn’t know why, he just knew the blanket should stay where it was. He had the vaguest sense that newer things were being pushed under there, too. But any time he searched for them, they slipped away. And he didn’t care to look too hard.
 

So he chatted to Ed and his head began to fill with snapshots of games he’d played and movies he’d watched. He tried to care about it all like Ed clearly did, but he couldn’t. There was nothing where the feelings should be. In the end, though, it didn’t matter too much. Ed just wanted to talk and Dave was fine nodding at the right times and making the right encouraging noises.
 

He watched Bayleigh and Alex make their shabby attempts at getting Ed away from him. They thought he’d killed one of the ladies. He shook his head as he stared down at the street. He couldn’t kill anyone, let alone a beautiful woman. Although, he still couldn’t explain the rawness of his hands, like he’d been scrubbing them. And he couldn’t remember where the scratches on his neck and arms came from either.
 

The answers were beneath the blanket. He paced across the room to the door. He paused before he opened it, holding his breath to listen. There was no one outside so he stepped out and strolled away down the hall. He would explore a bit more, try and find some corner of the hospital he had yet to document.
 

He was close to the edge of the field when Jackson burst out of the door before him and nearly knocked him down.
 

‘Hi, Jackson, how are you?’ It was one of those questions that meant nothing but he thought he should ask it. People seemed to expect it. The big man was panting and beads of sweat were running down his face. He was muttering to himself and Dave thought he wasn’t going to respond.

Jackson raised his head. He looked surprised for a moment, before he squinted and stepped closer.
 

‘Was it you?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Did you kill her?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You don’t think so? Either you did or you didn’t. You don’t get to be not sure about something like that.’

‘There aren’t many things I’m sure about. I’m sure about the number of stair wells in the hospital and the sleeping arrangements of every person in here. I’m not sure who killed the lady.’

Jackson’s eyes narrowed further and his head cocked to one side. ‘What are you saying? You think I did it?’

‘No, not really. I don’t think anyone did it. No, that’s not correct. Someone did do it. I’m not sure who that someone was. That’s better. Why, did you do it?’

Jackson growled, sneered at him, then shoved him aside and stomped away. Dave watched him go. That was… peculiar. Dave raised a hand in farewell and continued on his journey. He passed through the door and bumped into Bayleigh and Alex. ‘Hi, guys, everything okay?’

They both gave him a funny look and Bayleigh stepped closer, lowering her voice. ‘Have you seen Jackson?’

‘Yes, he just… well, he accused me of something and then ran away. Why?’

Bayleigh took a deep breath. ‘We think he killed the lady, Sian.’

‘Sian?’

‘The lady who died. Her name was Sian.’

‘Oh.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To explore, you know, the usual. Have you seen Ed? I was enjoying our conversation.’

They shook their heads and he knew they were lying. So they thought Jackson did it but still didn’t trust him either. It would have hurt, had he cared either way. He had to admire their caution, even if not their detective skills. What had made them choose Jackson as the prime suspect? Except, of course, his psychopathic tendencies and scary manner. Looked at like that, they were probably right.
 

Dave strolled out into the hospital. He found a whole number of interesting things, including a great deal of drugs. He read the packets and pamphlets from beginning to end and left the pharmacy area knowing considerably more about the field of prescription medicine. He also took a few with him, things they might need were they to have to move suddenly.
 

The rest he left scattered across the floor. He found other things, too, but nothing as interesting, and once his feet started to hurt he made his way back to the ward. He should eat something. His appetite seemed to have gone the same way as his emotions, but he recognised the ache in his stomach as a physical need. So he ate something from the supplies, smiling easily at the women in the room.
 

They floated around like ghosts, silent and white-faced. Were they still shocked by the death of their comrade or was it his presence? He should find out. Not now, though. He settled himself in a corner with a sandwich and watched the ghosts. More and more came until the room was packed. They were making sandwiches, far more than they needed for an afternoon snack.
 

They were storing them away in bags and leaving the room in ones and two. Something was happening. He should probably care about it. He should tell Bayleigh and Alex so they could care about it. But he had his sandwich to finish. Soon the room was empty save for the two women that had been in here since he came in. With the rest of them leaving, those two brightened up and started chatting animatedly. He watched them, enjoying the quick smiles and eyes that flicked his way.
 

Something stirred, deep in his stomach, and his breathing sped up a little. They were enchanting. He struggled to explain to himself what that word meant but it was the right one. They were casting a spell on him, lifting him up and away from himself.
 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the light was different in the room when one finally stretched, making his breath catch in his throat, and wandered out. The other gave him a shy smile as she followed her friend. He returned it, pressing his hands flat against his legs.
 

A commotion stirred him from his chair and he strolled out into the corridor. The first thing he saw was Jackson, towering and strong at the far end of the corridor. Between them was a large group of ladies, maybe half of them. He saw amongst them the sandwich makers. Jackson clapped his hands.
 

‘Everyone ready?’

Murmurs of assent filled the corridor and, with a final nod, he turned and set off out of the field. The ladies followed him, tromping down the corridor like they were heading for war. Jackson had almost reached the door when Bayleigh appeared. She was too far away for Dave to hear but he could guess what she was saying. Jackson was leaving! And he was taking a pretty decent number of the ladies with him.
 

That he hadn’t asked Dave to go with him stung more than he expected. It shouldn’t have stung at all, but there was something in his mind, a quiet voice that suggested Jackson should have asked him, that made it sting. He ignored it and focused on the exchange between the two of them.
 

Jackson was clearly disinterested, flapping his hands about before giving up and pushing past Bayleigh. Her words reached Dave now as she spoke to the women.
 

‘Don’t go with him, you don’t know what you’re doing. He murdered one of you, don’t be so stupid.’

The ladies ignored her. Soon the corridor was empty save Bayleigh, who stood at the end, head hanging down. Dave sauntered towards her. ‘They’ve all gone.’

She looked up and he was surprised to see how twisted and tired her face looked. ‘Why?’ She asked him. ‘Why the hell would they go out there? All because of Luke? Can’t they see what religion did to the people in St Paul’s? It was religion that got them kidnapped and spellbound and they’re still leaving because of it.’

She shook her head and hissed through her teeth and Dave realised she wasn’t really talking to him. ‘Why has Jackson gone?’

‘You can’t guess? It’s just him now, him and forty something attractive young women. If he can’t get his end away now, when will he be able to?’

‘You think he’s gone with them to have sex?’

Bayleigh burst out laughing. ‘Who are you and what have you done with David? You’re the guy who was cheating on his wife, you tell me.’

‘I did what? Oh, I was, yes of course. Well, yes, but we didn’t… I mean, I think we didn’t love one another.’ He frowned as the blanket twitched and pictures slipped out from underneath, people called Amber and Steph. The names were like branding irons cast into freezing water, the hiss and steam rising through his mind.
 

‘So that made it okay to cheat?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know. I can’t believe Jackson would put everyone in jeopardy just for that.’

She gave him a level look and shrugged. ‘I can. I also believe he’d do it just to piss us off. Maybe God told him to.’

She finished with a sneer and stalked past Dave. He turned and watched her. ‘What now?’

She stopped and spun around, raising her hands and shoulders. ‘I don’t know. Why should I know, I’ve just screwed that up pretty successfully. We wait for Luke and Krystal and do our best to keep everyone safe from the zombies.’

She stomped off and he nodded at her back. She was probably right. He’d forgotten what he came out here to do so he went into the main room. There were a number of the ladies in here and Alex as well. He thought about talking to him but what did they have to talk about? Did Alex play games?

The lady who’d given him the smile was in here and as he walked in, she walked past and out of the door. She gave him another smile and he felt the same heat in his stomach. He turned and followed her out. She’d taken a few steps before she stopped.
 

He drew closer as she turned around. She blinked a bit and smiled again. ‘Hi, I’m Tilda.’

‘Dave.’ He didn’t have much else to say. The voice from beneath the blanket told him he’d never had that problem before. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I was just going to lie down and have a read. It’s weird, I’m really tired and we aren’t doing anything.’

‘Inactivity can have a negative effect upon energy levels. It’s always best to get some exercise in every day if you can.’

She blushed. ‘What sort of exercise would you suggest?’

He was about to say brisk walking or swimming when he realised what she was asking. He blushed as well and grinned. ‘All sorts. Anything that makes you sweat is good.’

He didn’t know where the words came from but they seemed to work because she reached out and took his hand. ‘Maybe you could show me something that would make me sweat, help me get rid of this tiredness.’

He nodded mutely and let her lead him down the corridor. Something was changing in him, a mist that covered the blanket and everything else inside him. He felt hollow and that space was filled, just like that, with a fire that made him pant. As he followed her through the door, his mind went and the mist came down.
 

Bayleigh

She’d failed. She didn’t know what she could have done differently, but still, she felt like a failure. Luke would return and she’d have to tell him everything that had happened. She’d have to explain about the murder, about Jackson and Harriet, and he’d look at her and she wouldn’t know what to say.
 

Krystal, too. She was almost worse because Bayleigh knew she looked up to her. She’d have that look in her eyes of being let down. She shuddered and stormed past Dave. She couldn’t bear talking to him. Anyone else and maybe it would have helped, but with him, all she wanted to do was shout until she elicited some kind of response. It was like talking to her father. He had this disconnect that meant all the parts of his brain weren’t working properly.
 

He was still trying to excuse his cheating. Even since he’d changed, he still wanted to make out like it wasn’t a bad thing to do. She sneered. Where was Alex? Talking to Alex would help. Although, why hadn’t he spoken up more when they met Jackson?

That had been a complete mess.
 

‘Hi Jackson. Tell me, exactly, what you’ve been doing for the last two hours.’ She asked.

‘What?’

‘I said—’

‘I heard what you said. Why do you wanna know?’

He was on the defensive straight away. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’