Thirteen Roses Book Four: Alone: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (24 page)

From his vantage point, he could see the zombies wandering this way and that along the tow path. There was nowhere safe for Krystal to climb out. She scooted along the tiny beach below the hoardings and slowly vanished from sight into the darkness.
 

She wouldn’t leave him. She was going somewhere to get a boat and come back. His feet were numb. He knew they were there but he couldn’t have moved them if he wanted to. He needed to get out of the water. He gazed across the space to the bank and shook his head again. It was suicide. He looked up. The island was solid concrete, sitting maybe four feet out of the water. He should be able to haul himself up.
 

He stretched and grabbed a tiny ledge that jutted out halfway, then kicked with his legs and pulled at the same time. His feet felt like they had weights tied to them and his hand slipped off the ledge. His head went under and he came up gasping. He grabbed for the concrete again and clung on, as the cold sunk into his limbs and the water swirled carelessly past.
 

Jackson

He zipped up and stormed out of the room, leaving Harriet tangled in her trousers and glaring at him with ill-disguised lust. He slammed the door shut behind him. She needed to take the hint and stay put. She wasn’t coming out while that soldier was here. Who was he? Jackson was going to find out and it didn’t matter if he was dick-deep in one of the ladies or not. There was something wrong about him.
 

He strode into reception and stopped. The ladies were gathered together near the corridor. They were waiting for the soldier. They may as well have been queuing up with signs on their chests saying
slut
. He growled and stomped towards them. They saw him coming and didn’t react at all. That was wrong. They should mind him.
 

‘What are you doing?’

‘We’re waiting.’ The nearest said, still not looking at him.

‘I noticed that. Who for?’

‘Him.’

Her eyes glazed over and Jackson took a deep breath, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. He didn’t hit women, not anymore. Not unless they wanted it.
 

‘You can’t.’

She finally turned away from the corridor and stared at him. Her eyes looked drugged, the pupils dilated and hazy. She shook her head. ‘We can’t what?’

‘You can’t screw him.’

‘But that’s what he wants.’

‘I’m sure he does, but you can’t. We have to have diversity. If you all have children from him, what do you think will happen when your children have children?’

They stared at him blankly and he snorted through his nose. ‘You need to all have children from different men or your grandchildren will be mutants. This isn’t about who you want in your panties, it’s about saving the human race.’

His voice rose and by the time he finished they were paying a little more attention. He grabbed the first lady by the arm and led her away to a couch. ‘You can wait until the next lot come along.’

He went back to the row and got the next one. She was coming with him until a sigh erupted from the row. He spun around to see the soldier coming out of the room, satisfied smile on his face. He hadn’t bothered replacing his shirt this time and Jackson saw the red hair raging across his chest.
 

‘Az?’

The soldier smiled, more broadly this time, and Jackson caught sight of fangs that ended in sharp points. The women sighed again and Jackson threw himself at the demon. He grabbed him by the lapels and drove him against the wall. Despite being slammed into the plaster, the soldier burst out laughing.
 

‘Why are you wasting your time? They want me.’

‘They can’t have you. What are you doing?’

‘Me? Hasn’t Luke told you? No, I don’t suppose he has. Well, I’ll leave it to him to say. Let go of me.’

The tone of his voice changed, from casual conversation to an order. Jackson almost let go. Almost. Instead he yanked him away from the wall and slammed him back. The demon’s head bashed into the plaster and his teeth snapped together. Az growled and freed himself from the dent in the wall.
 

Jackson stared wide eyed as the demon lifted him off the floor and set him down a few feet away. Then Az punched him in the stomach. He folded over the punch and went hurtling back. He bounced off the opposite wall and slammed onto the floor. A couple of the ladies rushed over to help him to his feet. At least some of them recognised his authority.
 

He panted, trying to find breath. His back was on fire and one of his legs had twisted as he fell. He limped towards Az, but the demon was no longer paying him any attention. He was staring at the next lady in the queue, sharing a smile. How could she not see the predator before her?

Jackson limped close enough to talk without the ladies hearing. ‘Get out.’

Az turned, one eyebrow rising, to look at Jackson. ‘You got up. That’s impressive. I’ll hit you harder this time.’

‘You can hit me as many times as you like, God will protect me.’

Az snorted then seemed to notice the woman who’d swayed over. ‘He might at that, just to piss me off.’ He stepped closer, lowering his voice for Jackson alone. ‘The old bastard doesn’t care about you. You’re delusional, Jackson. The only thing you’ve been chosen for is to make our mutual friend’s life just a little bit harder. If I wasn’t enjoying the game so much, I’d kill you now and end it, but I haven’t been this entertained since the old wanker shut Hell.’

He raised the other eyebrow, challenging Jackson, and he wasn’t going to back down. With a roar he slammed his fist into Az’s face and the demon was thrown onto his arse. He looked up at Jackson with wide eyes. ‘Not ba—’

Jackson’s foot followed his fist as he kicked Az full in the face. His dodgy leg gave out and he stumbled against the wall. But the demon was on his back, blood streaming from his nose. Jackson dropped to his knees beside him, shoved apart the hands coming up to block, and drove his fists into Az’s face again and again. He felt teeth give way and cut into his fingers, but he kept going, kept piling on the hurt.
 

The ladies were shouting at him and one even grabbed his shoulder. He was vaguely aware of shoving her away, but every part of him was focused on ending the evil thing lying before him. He would beat him until his brains were spilled across the floor and his ladies were safe. Every time he raised his fist, he saw a mask of blood and nothing more.
 

Something stopped his fist.
 

One of the demon’s hands caught his, and squeezed. The pain took a moment to sink in; his hands were already numb. But when it did, he screamed. His little finger gave way, snapping and crushed into the skin of his hand. His ring finger went next, the knuckle tearing out the top of his hand. The sight of his bone, white against the blood that coated his fists and the red of the demon’s hand, made him retch.
 

Then the ladies started screaming. The sound was high-pitched and piercing and horrible and he had a split second in which he managed to yank his hand free of the demon’s grasp. As he stepped back, Az rose to his feet.
 

They weren’t feet anymore. Cloven hooves ended legs that reached to Jackson’s chest and held up the true demon.
 

The ladies ran screaming down the corridors and Jackson was left alone in seconds, facing Az. The demon’s face was screwed up along with his fists. ‘You really piss me off. I want you to know that.’

Jackson didn’t see the blow, not even when it cracked the bone that ran around the side of his eye. He flew across reception, flipped straight over a table, and landed on his neck on the other side. He peered beneath the table at the beast stomping towards him and gritted his teeth. He hauled himself up the table until he was standing, swaying.
 

He blinked and his eye exploded in pain. He was going to die here, beaten to death. The ladies would be defenceless and Az would take them one by one.
 

This was the end of the world. Not the plague, nothing that had come before. This was it. And it was down to him. This was why God had chosen him. It wasn’t his smarts or his skills. It was because he would refuse to quit and refuse to lie down.
 

He grabbed the table and lifted it off the floor. The legs folded up and, as the demon reached for it, Jackson smashed it into his face. Az stepped back and Jackson got a better hold on the table, wielding it with both hands. He slammed it edge first into Az’s nose and the demon growled, shaking his head like an impatient lion.
 

‘Stop wasting your time.’

‘The ladies won’t take you now, not now they know what you are.’

‘Do you think that matters? Do you think I care whether they’re willing? It’s more fun that way, admittedly, but I can live with either.’

Jackson roared and slammed the table into Az. This time the demon batted it aside and it flew from his hands. Az backhanded him across the face and he smashed into one of the shoulder-level partitions that divided up reception. He flipped straight over and landed on his back on another table.
 

That blow had been lighter. Either the demon was tired or growing weaker. His face appeared over the partition, smiling at Jackson. His hands followed it and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He hefted him into the air and slammed him on his side across the partition. He felt a rib crack and gasped as the air was smashed from his lungs.
 

Az lifted him again and tossed him across the room. He slapped into the floor and slid through a pile of chairs, covering his face as they toppled down onto him.
 

‘I can play with you for a while, you know. There’s no reason to end the fun quite yet.’

Az crossed the distance between them frighteningly fast. Jackson was barely on his feet before Az grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him in close. His breath smelled of iron. Jackson coughed.
 

‘If I kill you, Luke loses all hope. If I keep you alive, he could spend years trying to get back.’ He scowled. ‘I don’t intend to wait years.’ Az looked up at the ceiling, his anger becoming thoughtfulness. ‘But what’s the rush? We’ve waited three hundred years and I can do this anytime. Why not enjoy it a little while longer?’

Az slammed his fist into Jackson’s gut and though it was far gentler than the last blow, his rib jolted and he screamed again. Az chuckled. ‘The zombies make it so interesting, too. Seph’s gonna be pissed I didn’t finish with the ladies, though.’

His musings were brought to an abrupt end by a strident voice booming across reception.
 

‘OUT, DEMON. I CHARGE YOU TO LEAVE THIS PLACE, IN THE NAME OF OUR FATHER AND LORD.’

Jackson wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure which. He peered sideways, realising he’d lost the sight in the damaged eye, and saw Harriet approaching, cross held out before her. The other ladies came behind her, chanting in time, and the sound filled the high-ceilinged room.
 

Az let go of Jackson and he slid to the floor, seeing the world sideways. Then the demon burst out laughing and spread his arms and wings wide. His presence filled the room, dominating everything, and the ladies stuttered and fell silent.
 

‘Who’s next? Who wants to fuck me next? You were all queuing up not long ago.’

‘Begone, demon. You are evil and I demand that you begone in the name of God.’

‘Yeah, in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s not listening all that much right now. Who’re you? I didn’t see you before.’

Jackson saw the leer on his face and growled deep in his throat. With a roar he surged to his feet and grabbed a hold of one of the demon’s wings. He was half lifted from his feet, but his weight dragged it down and he felt something give.
 

Az tried to spin, but Jackson clung on, yanking it this way and that. He could feel it tearing, like working a leg free from a roast chicken.
 

‘Get off me, you little shit.’

Jackson grinned through the blood running down his face. When had he started to bleed? Az stumbled away towards the windows, shaking his entire body as he went. Still Jackson clung on, his knuckles white against the vivid red of the demon. The pressure of his broken fingers against the hard bone of the wing frame made his vision blur and his stomach heave.
 

Az reached the window and drove his fist through the glass. The immediate rush of wind made a sound like an aircraft taking off. The demon grabbed the strengthened glass and tore it out, heaving the massive sheet into space. The wind that came rushing in stole Jackon’s breath and left him gasping.
 

Az flapped his wings, dragging Jackson off his feet and towards the window. As he swung, the demon reached around his body and grabbed Jackson by the leg. He hauled on him but Jackson refused to release his wing. With a snarl, Az drove vicious claws deep into the flesh on Jackson’s thigh. He screamed, his last vestiges of air fleeing his lungs.
 

The world spun and his grip on the wings weakened. The demon lashed them about and Jackson tumbled off. Growling in triumph, Az lifted from the floor and beat his massive wings. Jackson grabbed again but succeeded only in brushing the wing tip. He staggered forwards but lost his grip. His gaze left the demon and looked straight forward, at the yawning window right before him.
 

Az flew through it and out into the night sky. Jackson stumbled, tumbled forwards, and felt the wind take him. He twisted his body desperately, turning away from the window, but it was too late. He fell out into space, the lights of London twinkling far, far below.
   

Krystal

The sound of waves took her back. When she first got to London she spent a lot of time by the river, watching the world go past. There was something about the weight of history carried by the dark water that made the aching in her gut and the screaming in her head quieter. It didn’t fade entirely, but tide and time eased the pain.