Zom-B Gladiator (7 page)

‘You didn’t need to tag along,’ Carl says as we exit the Square and head towards Regent Street.

‘You shouldn’t go off solo,’ I grunt. ‘Anything could happen to you.’

‘Would you be bothered?’ Carl asks.

I shrug. ‘I don’t want to have to explain your loss
to Master Zhang.’

Carl smiles. ‘
You
went off by yourself after you fell from the London Eye.’

I haven’t told them that Rage pushed me. They think I fell. I didn’t even tell Dr Oystein. I’m not a tattletale. What happened on the Eye was between Rage and me.

‘I’m a special case,’ I mutter.

Carl looks at me sideways and smirks. ‘I think you fancy me.’

‘In your dreams.’

‘That’s
why you’ve come. You can’t bear to be parted from me.’

I fake a yawn. ‘Yeah, that’s it.’ Then I tell him, ‘Actually it’s because of the book.’

He frowns. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The book with the Van Gogh letters. It’s great. You gave it to me, so I wanted to repay you.’

‘It’s no big deal,’ he says. ‘You could have given me a book in return.’

‘I couldn’t be arsed looking
for one.’

He grins. ‘Or you could have just said thanks.’

‘Nothing says thank you better than saving a person’s life,’ I drawl.

Carl shakes his head. ‘You’re a strange one, Smith.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes. I can’t figure you out. I try being nice to you, and you clearly appreciate that or you wouldn’t feel compelled to repay me. But instead of just accepting me as a friend, you have
to turn it into something weird.’

‘Nothing weird about it,’ I grunt. ‘I liked the book. This is my way of doing something nice for you in return.’

‘You could simply be my friend,’ Carl says.

‘I’d rather save your neck.’

‘Even though you don’t like me?’ he presses.

‘I never said I didn’t like you.’

‘Then you do like me?’

‘I never said that either.’

Carl stops and
squints. ‘Are you playing mind games with me?’

‘No.’ I roll my eyes. ‘You’re just a guy I work with, same as the others. I’m happy to keep things pleasant, but I don’t want to do more than that. Friends aren’t my thing.’

‘Must be lonely up there in that tower,’ Carl says.

‘Suits me fine,’ I retort. ‘Now, are we sorting out those toys or what?’

Carl looks at me a beat longer,
then shrugs and starts off again. He doesn’t say anything else. I don’t either. I didn’t want to piss him off, but he kept asking until there was nothing else for it but to hit him with the truth.

After a short, uneventful journey, we stop outside Hamleys. Any time I passed by before, it was swarming with kids and tourists. Now it’s no different to any other large building in this city,
silent, no signs of life, just the occasional flickering shadow as zombies shift around inside.

‘It’s sad,’ Carl says. ‘It feels more like a graveyard than a toyshop now.’

‘Do you want to try somewhere else?’ I ask.

‘No. The other places will be the same. I’ll go look inside, see what I can rustle up. I might be a while—I always seem to turn into a big kid in here. Do you want to come
with me, or do you want to browse by yourself?’

‘Actually I think I’ll stay out here and keep watch,’ I say, not wanting to go in and be confronted with all those toys, along with the realisation that no children will ever come to play with them again. ‘I’ll give you a shout if I spot anything.’

‘Like what?’ he laughs. ‘Elephants?’

‘Just get on with your job,
toy boy
,’ I growl
and move away from the door, out of his line of sight.

As Carl goes on the hunt for the perfect present, I shuffle along, away from the windows which are still packed with displays of toys that haven’t been disturbed, until I come to a stretch of wall that I can lean against. I glance around idly, then study my fingerbones, picking at them, cleaning them. I keep them in good shape, but with
all the training and fighting, they get scraped and chipped. The scuffs don’t really bother me, but I like to keep them neat and tidy. I guess filing down the bones is the closest I get to polishing my nails these days.

As I’m digging at a thin crack in one of the bones, trying to scrape out the dirt, I hear something rustling to my left. I look up but can’t see anything. Probably just a
rat. I return my attention to my bones, but then there’s a shuffling sound off to my right. I frown and step away from the wall, squinting. The sun’s in my eyes. I raise a hand to shade them.

Something strikes the back of my neck and a surge of electricity crackles through me. Every muscle in my body goes haywire. I collapse instantly. I try to cry out with pain, but my mouth won’t work.
It’s like I’m filling with sparks. Lights dance across my eyes and I go temporarily blind.

As my vision starts to clear, a man rushes towards me. A gag is shoved into my mouth. My hands are jerked behind my back and tied together. Someone else binds my legs. I want to scream for help, but I’m still spasming and the gag would stop me making any noises anyway.

The guy who bound my hands
starts to jam a thick sack down over my head. He pauses before he covers my eyes and waits for me to focus on him. As I do, the world swimming slowly back into place around me, I spot his dark, grey-streaked hair and brown eyes, and I think it’s Dr Oystein, that this is a test.

Then the man’s features solidify and I realise it’s not the doc. I don’t know why I ever thought it was. The pair look nothing alike. This guy is much broader, with a menacing expression, and Dr Oystein never went around with a bullet stuck behind his right ear.

When I spot the bullet, everything clicks and I realise what’s going on. I try to scream again, to at least alert Carl, even
if it’s too late for me. But the hunter knows his job. He’s not in the habit of making mistakes.

‘Hello again, my bizarre little beauty,’ he whispers.

And, as he tugs the sack down over my face, thrusting me into darkness, I try screaming one last time, unsuccessfully willing myself to bellow his name out loud for all the world to hear.

‘
Barnes!
’

My captors pick me up and hurry along the street with me. I try kicking out at them, but I’m expertly bound and my muscles are still throbbing from the shock. I’ve never been tasered before. I didn’t think it would hurt so much. My head is ringing and it feels like
I’ve been sucking batteries for a week.

I’m bundled into the back of a van and the doors slam shut. The engine starts and we lurch forward. It’s been so long since I was in a moving vehicle, the sensation is strange. I get a bit nauseous. I never suffered from travel sickness when I was alive. Maybe it has something to do with my altered hearing.

I’ve no idea what’s going on. Barnes
is a hunter. When I met him before, he was leading a small team, killing zombies for sport. I could understand that. But why kidnap me now instead of shoot me dead when he had the chance? Does he plan to torture me?

I wouldn’t have thought he was the type. That day in the East End, when he realised I could think and speak, he let me go. He even threatened to eliminate one of his crew, Coley,
a nasty piece of work who wanted to kill me despite the fact I wasn’t like the other zombies.

But maybe I caught Barnes on a soft day. He might have thought about it since then and decided I was fair game. Perhaps he got tired of executing mindless zombies and wanted to experiment on one who could react to his taunts.

As I’m considering the nature of the man who now controls my fate,
the sack is pulled free of my head. Barnes is squatting in front of me, grinning bleakly.

‘I know you haven’t forgotten me,’ he says quietly in his American accent. ‘You’re in trouble and I won’t pretend you’re not. But I’m not figuring on killing you. If you play ball, you might get out of this alive. Now, do you want me to take out that gag?’

I nod sharply.

‘If you try to bite
me, I’ll execute you,’ he says, showing me a hunting knife. ‘I’ll dig this straight into your brain at the first snap of your teeth.’

I glare at Barnes as he reaches out and removes the gag, but slide my head backwards as soon as my mouth is free, away from his gloved fingers, to signal to him that I’m not going to strike. Barnes didn’t bother with gloves the first time I met him, but I
guess he’s racked up the stakes a level and is getting much closer to zombies now. If you’re gonna get hands-on with one of us, you need to be more cautious.

‘How did you find me?’ I snarl.

‘I’ve been staking out Leicester Square and the area around it for several weeks,’ he says. ‘I guessed you – or those like you – would swing through sooner or later. The Square might have fallen
from grace, but it’s still the heart of the city.

‘I’ve seen you before,’ he continues. ‘A few times. But you were always part of a group. I didn’t want to target you when you were with company. Too complicated. Always easier to pick off a stray.

‘Actually I wasn’t after you specifically,’ he adds. ‘Any one of you would have done. But I had a feeling it would be you. The universe works strangely that way. I don’t believe in destiny,
but coincidence is a far more complex beast than most people give it credit for.’

‘God bless coincidence,’ the driver laughs. ‘I’m glad you didn’t let me kill her all those months ago.’

‘Coley?’ I growl. Barnes’s hunting partner wanted to shoot me when our paths first crossed. Barnes wouldn’t let him. Rather, he said he’d let Coley shoot me, but that he’d disable him in return and leave
him for the zombies as punishment.

‘Guess you didn’t think you’d be seeing me again,’ Coley snickers.

‘Not this side of Hell,’ I snarl. ‘I hoped a zombie would have ripped you apart by now.’

‘Not this fleet-footed fox,’ Coley boasts.

‘I’m surprised you’re still together,’ I mutter. ‘I thought you’d have gone your separate ways after what happened, Barnes threatening to shoot off
your kneecaps and all.’

‘Nothing more than a minor quarrel,’ Coley says, glancing over his shoulder to show me his grin. He’s sporting fancy designer glasses, the same as before. His straw-coloured hair is a bit longer. Both men are wearing army fatigues.

‘A lovers’ tiff?’ I murmur, smiling back at Coley as best I can from my awkward position.

Coley’s face darkens. ‘I say we cut
out her tongue.’

Barnes chuckles. ‘Not yet. Our lords and ladies might want her to sing for them first.’

‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

‘You’ll find out soon,’ Barnes tells me.

‘You won’t like it when you do,’ Coley cackles and takes a bend sharply, tyres squealing. Barnes almost topples on to me.

‘Careful!’ he barks.

‘Don’t worry,’ Coley says. ‘I’m in total control of this
baby.’ We hit a bump and Barnes is jolted into the air. Again he has to steady himself before he falls within range of my infectious teeth.

‘I won’t warn you again,’ Barnes says.

‘You’re no fun,’ Coley pouts but slows to a more reasonable speed.

Barnes scowls at the back of his partner’s head, then leans in close to me. ‘If it’s any consolation,’ he whispers so that only I can hear,
‘I hate having to do this. It won’t mean much to you, I know, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’