Thirteen Roses Book Five: Home: A Paranormal Zombie Saga (15 page)

The flapping of wings made him rise, blinking furiously. Had he been asleep? He thought he had, though he remembered no dreams. His shoulders were stiff and he rolled them as he watched Az come closer. The demon no longer favoured his hurt wing and his face had lost the angry glower from their last meeting.
 

‘Dave, you did it!’

The demon landed and clapped him on the shoulder. The impact nearly drove him to his knees but he managed a weak smile.
 

‘Yes. But it was easy, I love them.’

‘Yes you do. And so you should. They are partly your children, you know.’

He spoke like Dave was a little child and he thought it should bother him more than it did. Despite his exhaustion, it seemed very little bothered him at the moment.
 

‘Are they sleeping?’

‘Yes, since the moment we got back.’

‘That will happen after the first feed.’

‘So what now?’

‘I need you to care for them. It will only be a week or so until they are fully grown and ready to join me. But I’m right in the middle of something pretty huge so I can’t be here right now.’

‘Something bigger than watching your children grow up?’

Az frowned. ‘I know. Believe me, if I could be here, I would. But this is pretty key to our plans, I really can’t… Why am I explaining myself to you? You will care for our children.’

Dave smarted and looked away. He wasn’t hurt by the sudden change, but it wasn’t necessary either. He’d already said he’d look after them. ‘What do I have to do?’

‘They’ll need to feed again. Once more should do it, but you’ll need a live kill.’

‘Who?’

‘The soldiers are still at St Paul’s. They’re pissing me off, actually, so head over there. Be careful, bullets can still kill them at this stage. Actually, bullets will always be dangerous. Find one or two soldiers on their own and take them.’

Just like that. Dave shook his head but kept his mouth shut. Az didn’t look grumpy anymore but he still had an edge to him, a brittleness he didn’t want to get in the way of. So he had no idea what possessed him to ask his next question.

‘What are you doing at the moment that’s so important?’
 

Az glared for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. ‘Excellent question. I’m in the Flights being super sneaky. We’re in the final stages of recruiting and the longer I’m away, the more likely it is the whole thing will come down like a house of cards.’

‘Recruiting for what?’

‘War of course.’

Alex

The torch light wavered and flashed side to side. It wasn’t deliberate, his hand was shaking.
 

‘What was that?’ Tanya hissed.

‘Shut up.’ He put his finger to his lips, then gripped the torch with both hands to keep it steady. He turned, slowly but surely, playing the beam over every part of the room.
 

Nothing.
 

The growl came again and he shuddered. Tanya pressed closer, bumping against his hip. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring way and not a death grip.
 

A soft scratching intruded, like something running its nails down the wall. It could just as easily have been a rat. He did another circuit with the torch and once again saw nothing. Tanya touched his arm and he barely resisted jumping in the air.
 

‘That was the light switch, turn the lights on.’

He backed up until he saw the switch. He stepped back and put his finger on it. Something told him not to flick it, that he didn’t want to see what it would illuminate. But they couldn’t stand here forever. He flicked the switch.
 

Nothing happened. He swore under his breath and flicked it off. Try again. He flicked it up and this time the light blazed out. He hadn’t squinted his eyes in preparation and was blinded for a brief moment. He heard Tanya gasp and rubbed his eyes as the room came into focus.
 

There was nothing here. They stood in a lounge dominated by two large sofas, so he trudged across, sank into one, and gripped the arms to stop his hands shaking. His fear leaked from him until he felt weak and feeble. Tanya sat in the other sofa but she perched on the edge, checking over her shoulder at every moment.
 

‘It’s alright, we’re alright.’ Alex said. ‘Come on, let’s take a look round.’

He pushed himself up and offered her a hand. The door to the dining room was closed and Alex held his breath as it creaked open. He shone the torch through the narrow gap. He didn’t see anything but he paused anyway, listening intently. Nothing.
 

He shoved the door open as fast as he could and flicked on the light. The room was empty save a large wooden dining table and chairs, and two dressers at the far end. He let out a breath and Tanya giggled. He gave her a smile. ‘See, there’s nothing here.’

‘I heard a growl, I know I heard a growl.’

He had as well. Maybe it had been outside. What wild animals were there around here? Did badgers growl? He shook his head and strolled through the dining room to the kitchen. The lino was scuffed by the sink and the side door and he was reminded fiercely of his grandma’s house. It had the same smell, of age and cooking and love.
 

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath. They could stay here. It felt safe here. He looked at Tanya. She was still on edge, tapping one finger against the work surface, but the tension was leaving her as well.
 

‘Shall we have a look upstairs?’ He didn’t mean it to sound rude but somehow it did and she burst out laughing. He blushed bright red and shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, god, sor—’

‘It’s fine, really. I didn’t think you did. That’s a good idea.’

They climbed the stairs and found four bedrooms, all kitted out with beds and wardrobes and the normal stuff. They also found a bathroom that felt cavernous after the tiny hospital cubicles. It also had a huge wrought iron bath into which he looked forward to sinking.
 

They wandered back down stairs, chatting about where everyone would sleep, talking about rotations and mattresses. They’d reached the back door when he heard the growl again. It was clearer this time, and louder, and the torch slipped from his fingers. It fell with a hollow thud onto the floor boards beneath his feet, and they stared at the rug upon which they stood.
 

Tanya went white and backed away until she reached the fire place. She pulled a poker off the stand and held it out before her. It looked more like a wand than a weapon but it was more than Alex had. He knelt and rolled up the rug.
 

The trapdoor was clean and well-used and he knew he didn’t want to open it. The padlock was shiny and closed. Did he really have to open it? But if he didn’t, they couldn’t stay here, and he didn’t have the strength to find another place tonight.
 

‘What is it?’ Tanya asked.
 

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Well, I do. There’s at least one zombie down there. But why it’s under a trapdoor, I d—’

‘He was a freak.’

‘What?’

‘The guy who lived here, the one who attacked us. He kept people locked up down there.’

Alex shook his head. ‘No way. This is Beaconsfield, it’s full of really rich people. There’s no way someone could get away with this.’

‘Haven’t you seen it on the news? People with friends and everything and they keep these women locked up for years.’

‘They’re zombies now.’

She bit her lip and nodded, raising the poker. He grabbed the other one. It wasn’t much longer than his forearm, but was reassuringly weighty and he brandished it before him as he returned to the trap door.
 

He nudged the padlock with his foot. ‘How are we supposed to get this open?’

‘Where would he keep the key?’

‘Study.’ They said it at the same time and shared nervous laughter as they headed back through the house. They went through his drawers and emerged with three padlock keys. The first didn’t fit, but the second went in perfectly and he paused before he unlocked it. ‘Is there something we can fight them with, before I do this?’

‘Them?’

‘Just in case there’s more than one, you know?’

The poker in her hand shook like she was wobbling it back and forth.
 

‘Hey, take it easy, it’s fine.’ He said. ‘We just smash their heads in as they come up the stairs.’

‘Oh, just like that? Easy then.’ She turned away, putting her hand over her mouth. He was about to give her a speech about being ready for the new world when she turned back. Her lips were pressed in a straight line and she nodded. ‘Go on then.’

He undid the padlock and took it out, placing it to one side. The trapdoor opened silently and she pointed the torch down into the darkness. It illuminated a set of steps and, at the bottom, a stone floor. And nothing else. Tanya groaned, hand back over her mouth. Alex shook his head. Why was nothing simple?

He took the first step down and peered around. Still nothing. No sign of what had made the growling sounds. He took another couple of steps and crouched, trying to see the rest of the room between the rungs. Tanya passed him the torch and he bent over to inspect the rest of the cellar.
 

The beam swept over empty space, then caught the glint of an eye. Alex stared straight at the zombie, heart in his mouth, and realised it was a child. His fear was momentarily overridden by his anger and disgust. Then another appeared right before him and its hand shot through the rungs. It caught him in the face and, though the blow wasn’t that hard, he was already off-balance.
 

The torch tumbled down the steps and he went straight after it. He caught his head on the next step as his body flipped over and smashed onto the steps on his back. Agony flared from his tail bone right up to his skull and he moaned. The torch smashed as it hit the floor, and he stared into darkness.
 

Tanya’s scream overpowered whatever sound the children made, but hands wrapped around his legs and he knew he had moments before the teeth sunk in. Despite the light still shining in from the lounge, his vision was darkening and he blinked furiously as he lashed out with both feet.
 

His heel caught something that grunted and the hand let go of his feet. Alex tried to sit up and slipped, bumping down the rest of the way into the cellar. Tanya screamed again, which was nice but entirely useless at this point in time. Alex still had hold of the poker and now he swung it in a wide arc, the tip vanishing into the darkness.
 

It didn’t hit anything until it caught the side of the steps and jarred his arm. He barely clung to it as pins and needles ran up to his shoulder. He pushed away from the steps and stood, peering around him into the darkness. Why weren’t they attacking? It was like they were hiding, waiting for him to make a mistake. They were zombies, he’d seen them, but somehow they were smarter than the others.
 

Was it something to do with being children? Or was it because the sick bastard who’d kept them locked up down here had bred cunning into them. Did they think, somewhere in their disintegrating brains, that Alex was their captor?

He grabbed hold of the stairs and started to climb. His breath was coming in short bursts and his vision was still blurry. A lump was already forming on the back of his head, thumping in time with his heart. The hand came again and he lashed his leg around until it let go. Another hand, from the other side of the steps, dug its nails into his knee cap and he swore.
 

‘Alex, come on.’

She stood at the top of the steps, reaching down with one hand, and he stretched up towards it. The nails raked the skin off his knee and tore open his trousers and he jerked his leg away. He slipped and his other foot came off the step and thumped onto the one below. A jolt of pain shot straight up his back and knocked the air from his lungs.
 

He teetered and pinwheeled his arms until his balance returned. He swung again with the poker and hit nothing. His breath was coming back but he was panting. He couldn’t think. He was going to die, he was going to be eaten by children. It was almost funny. But he was only a child himself, really. He’d never seen the world or done half the things he wanted to do. For the briefest of moments he was reminded of when Lisa had sent the text saying she was pregnant.
 

How ludicrous that he would even contemplate comparing the two scenarios. How ridiculous that at the time it had felt like his life was ending. A hand clutched his leg and he slammed the poker down where the arm should be. It connected this time, and he grinned tightly when it smashed straight through the arm.
 

He swung again and hit something larger, so he kept swinging. From the other child in the cellar came a wailing,
 
a keening sound like nothing he’d ever heard. He imagined it was what a mother would sound like at the bedside of her dying child and it brought goosebumps up all along his arm.
 

‘Tanya, is there a lamp or anything.’

She was snuffling, staring down at him with wide eyes, and he wanted to hit her.
 

‘NOW!’

She disappeared and he stopped hitting. The wailing had ceased and the silence was somehow worse. He jabbed with the poker and felt it sink in. He’d killed the first one. He’d just beaten a child to death. His stomach flipped and he scrubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand.
 

Tanya reappeared at the top of the steps, hauling along what looked like a tall standing lamp. ‘Is this any good?’

‘Switch it on and lower it down here, quickly.’

The bulb lit up and she turned it upside down, lowering it by the base until it bumped against the stairs half way down. The light showed him the rest of the cellar and the space where he’d seen the first child. There was nothing there. He turned and stared at the bloody mess at his feet. Just beyond it stood the other child. The sweat that was cooling on his back rushed to his head and ran down from his hair.