Zom-B Mission Read online

  The twins leave us and Dr Oystein settles back in his chair. ‘Well, I think you all know why you are here.’

  ‘A mission,’ Shane yelps, clenching his right hand into a fist – but not closing it all the way, because of the bones sticking out of the tips – and shaking it.

  ‘It should not excite you,’ Master Zhang frowns. ‘This is a serious business, not a game. Perhaps we should assign this task to one of the other groups.’

  As Shane’s face falls, Dr Oystein smiles. ‘Take no notice of Zhang. He has a dry sense of humour. We understand how frustrating life is for you, stuck here, training so hard. Your excitement is understandable and I am confident you will put it to one side and focus on the mission once the initial, thrilling flush has passed.

  ‘Now for specifics.’ He waves a hand at the humans. ‘The reason I have chosen you for this mission is that it involves Emma and Declan. They have been happy here, but it is time for them to move on.’

  ‘We’re not ungrateful,’ Emma says. ‘I just think it would be healthier for Declan to be with other children . . . other living children I mean.’ She blushes as she says it and looks away.

  ‘No need to feel guilty,’ Dr Oystein says sweetly. ‘We would all want the same thing for him in your position. We would have sent you with the children from the cruiser if he had not been ill at the time.’

  One of the creeps on the Belfast – the despicable Dan-Dan – kept a bunch of children below deck to torture and kill. Angels took those we rescued to stay in compounds in the countryside. Declan caught a bug shortly before they were due to leave. He was vomiting and coughing. Dr Oystein considered postponing the exodus of children, but Emma didn’t want them to be put at risk on her son’s account. She insisted they depart as scheduled and has been waiting here since. She hasn’t put any pressure on the doctor, refusing to accept his offer of a private escort out of the city.

  ‘A couple of our Angels recently discovered a small group of people sheltering in a building in Hammersmith,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘We are going to lead them to a place beyond the city limits, where they can join a community of other survivors. I would like you to escort Emma and Declan to Hammersmith, then travel with the group to the compound.’

  ‘We’re getting out of London?’ Carl asks, his face lighting up.

  ‘For a while, yes.’ Dr Oystein stands, looks briefly out of the window, then faces us again. ‘Do not underestimate the dangers of this mission. Other zombies leave you alone when you are by yourselves, but they will not ignore you when they catch the scent of fresh brains. You will have to move swiftly and cautiously, and you will almost surely be called upon to fight.

  ‘You might also come under attack from living forces. The city and countryside are full of angry, bitter people who are trying to execute as many of the undead as they can. They will not distinguish between a revitalised and a revived. Most do not know that there is a difference. And most would not care.

  ‘It is a hostile, threatening environment, and I would like each one of you to think carefully about it before deciding whether or not to accept this assignment. No,’ he adds as Rage starts to speak. ‘I do not want your answer now. Rest on the matter overnight and give it serious consideration. If you accept, you will not have to leave until morning. You can let me know your verdict then.’

  The others file out of the room, trying to act sombre, even though they’re wild with glee inside. There’s not a chance that any of them will turn down this opportunity to get out of the city. But I suppose we have to go through the motions to keep Dr Oystein happy.

  I don’t retire with the rest of my group. I want to ask the doc something. He sees that I have a question and nods for me to stay behind as Zhang, Emma and Declan slip out. He sits in his chair again and beckons me forward.

  ‘How have you been?’ he asks.

  ‘Fine.’

  The doc hasn’t been here a lot over the last few weeks. He has a secret lab somewhere, and spends a lot of his time there, working on ways to wipe out the undead hordes.

  ‘I wanted to ask you about the babies,’ I mutter. ‘You haven’t said anything about them since you got back.’

  Dr Oystein makes a small sighing noise. ‘There is not much that I can tell you at the moment. There are things I am considering. I do not like to keep secrets, but it is a case of deciding how much information I think it is fitting to share with you – or any of the other Angels – right now.’

  He crosses his legs and studies me closely. ‘I am still troubled by the fact that you dreamt of the babies when you were alive, and that Owl Man knew of your dreams. I have been researching ways in which I might induce a sleep-like state in a revitalised.’

  I frown. ‘I thought we could never sleep again.’

  ‘I thought so too,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘And that may well be the case. It is not something I ever gave much thought to, since it seemed a trivial issue. But I would be keen to find out if you could still have the dreams, and if we could learn anything from them.

  ‘I have started to experiment. It might lead nowhere, and even if it does, there is no way of telling how long it will take before I am successful. But if I can find a way to make you sleep, would you be prepared to brave your nightmares again in an attempt to explore them further?’

  ‘I would if you’ll tell me what you know about the babies,’ I reply.

  ‘That sounds like a fair deal,’ he smiles. ‘I promise to reveal all before you agree to any tests, assuming we get that far.’

  Dr Oystein stands and stretches. ‘Come, I am heading to my laboratory here, and I would like you to accompany me some of the way.’

  I fall in beside him. ‘You know, if you can find a way for me to sleep, the other Angels will want to snooze too. Time drags when we’re awake all night. This could be one of your more popular inventions, up there with the Groove Tubes.’

  ‘You think so?’ Dr Oystein looks surprised. ‘I had not realised it was that important. I know lack of sleep is a nuisance, but I had not thought it a serious handicap. Perhaps I should have turned my mind to the matter sooner. I will give it all of the attention that I can over the next few –’

  ‘Demon!’ someone screams and we both jump with alarm.

  I look up and spot Mr Burke in the corridor. He has a face like thunder and he’s holding a gun. As I stare at him, bewildered, he bellows ‘Demon! ’ again. Then he raises the gun, aims at us and opens fire.

  SIX

  Dr Oystein and I throw ourselves to opposite sides of the corridor. It’s what I was taught to do by Master Zhang in a situation like this. It means the gunman has to swivel and set his sights on just one person.

  Burke focuses on Dr Oystein. He keeps firing as he strides forward, screaming ‘Demon!’ over and over, as if it’s the only word he knows.

  ‘Stop!’ I roar, racing towards him, waving my arms, trying to draw him away from Dr Oystein. The doc is dodging the bullets as best he can, moving with surprising speed for a guy his age.

  Burke ignores me and keeps on firing. His eyes are wild. Spit flies from his lips every time he roars. Even in the heat of the moment I feel a stab of envy. You can’t produce proper spit when you’re a zombie. My mouth has been a dry, stale hole ever since I came back to life.

  I close on Burke and he swings his arm round. He starts to fire, but pauses when he sees that it’s me. A desperate expression shoots across his face. He adjusts his aim slightly and shoots at the floor ahead of me, trying to scare me off.

  But I don’t scare easily. I keep on coming. Burke’s features harden and he whirls away, closer to the wall, searching for a clear shot at Dr Oystein. He fires again. There’s a cry of pain as one of the bullets strikes home. I don’t look back to check on the doc. There isn’t time.

  ‘Stop!’ I yell again as I come within striking distance of the man who was once my favourite teacher.

  ‘Demon!’ Burke retorts, steadying his arm, taking careful aim.

  I want to calm him down
and talk this through, but there’s no time. If I don’t stop him, he’s going to kill Dr Oystein. In a panic, I swing at his gun hand and swat the weapon away. Burke cries out with pain and stumbles after his lost weapon. Then he comes to a halt and stares at the fingers which a second before had been holding the gun.

  I pulled my punch as much as I could. I knew the dangers of direct contact and tried to avoid it, so that I could subdue Burke and try to find out what’s wrong with him. But you can’t always strike accurately in a fight, not when your opponent has a gun and is about to kill one of your team.

  I knocked the gun from Burke’s hand. But a couple of the bones sticking out of my fingers scratched his palm.

  Burke stares at the wounds, his eyes bulging. They’re minor scrapes. A kitten could have done more damage. But Burke hasn’t been scratched by a cat. He’s been scratched by a zombie. And the infectious nick of a monster like me is death to a human like him.

  ‘I’m sorry!’ I scream, thrusting my hands behind my back, as if I can undo what I’ve done. ‘I didn’t mean to. I only wanted to knock away the gun. Why didn’t you stop firing when I told you?’

  Burke stares at me, his cheeks puffing in and out. There are tears in his eyes. He clutches the injured hand to his chest and falls to his knees. Shakes his head and moans pitifully.

  Master Zhang races into the corridor, followed by some Angels. His eyes dart from Burke to me to Dr Oystein, taking in everything in an instant. ‘Are you in control of the situation?’ he barks.

  I can’t answer.

  ‘Becky Smith!’ he snaps. ‘Are you in control?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say hoarsely, my training kicking in as I take a firmer stance, ready to stop Burke if he makes another grab for the gun.

  ‘Oystein,’ Zhang shouts, racing past me. ‘Are you injured?’

  ‘Only winged,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘One of the bullets struck my shoulder. I will be all right.’

  I don’t look back. I stay focused on Burke. He’s crying openly now. He holds out his injured hand to me and whispers something.

  ‘What was that?’ I moan, expecting him to say ‘Demon!’ again. But this time it’s different.

  ‘Dowling,’ Burke croaks through his tears, and I go cold inside as I start to piece together what has happened.

  I sit beside the damned Billy Burke, the man who saved me in the underground complex, who has helped take care of me since I came to County Hall, who was always a good friend and trusted teacher, the man I would have chosen for a father if I could. I wrap my arms round him and pull him close, like a mother nursing her baby.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I tell him as he starts to quiver uncontrollably. ‘I’m with you. I’ll look out for you. It won’t be long now. The pain will pass.’

  ‘Dowling,’ Burke says again, sobbing into the fabric of my T-shirt.

  ‘I know,’ I shush him. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll track him down. I’ll make that bastard pay.’

  Burke starts shaking his head and tries to say something else. But before he can, his body rattles. His head flies back and his eyelids snap open and shut, time and time again. There’s a creaking noise as the bones in his fingers and toes start to push out, tearing through the flesh. His lips peel back as his teeth lengthen and thicken into fangs.

  Master Zhang returns and stands over the pair of us. He looks furious but sad at the same time. I don’t know if he was friends with Burke – I’m not sure that Zhang has any real friends – but he respected the ex-teacher.

  I clutch Burke tight and whisper in his ear, trying to make this as comfortable for him as I can, even though I know his brain has already shut down, that he can’t understand anything I’m saying.

  ‘B,’ Zhang says quietly. I glance up at him. He extends his right hand, the fingers hooked, and raises a questioning eyebrow, asking if I want him to put the transforming human out of his misery.

  I start to nod, then recall something and shake my head, angry at myself for almost forgetting such a crucial factor. ‘No! He got Dr Oystein to vaccinate him. He wanted the chance of revitalising if he was ever infected.’

  ‘There is little hope of that,’ Zhang says icily. ‘Adults almost never revitalise. And after what he did today, I am not sure he deserves such consideration.’

  I think about defending Burke, but I know that won’t wash with my stern mentor. So I take a sly approach instead. ‘As unlikely as it is, if he recovers consciousness, we can find out why he did this, punish whoever put him up to it.’

  Zhang purses his lips, thinks about that, then nods curtly. ‘I will prepare a room and we will keep him captive. Guard him until it is ready—I do not want him to target Ciara or Reilly.’

  As Zhang turns to check on Dr Oystein, Burke falls impossibly still. Impossible if you’re a human, that is. Perfectly possible if you’re a zombie.

  Burke tries to rise but I pull him down. He doesn’t resist. While Master Zhang and the other Angels tend to Dr Oystein, I gently rock the undead teacher and go on speaking to him, mourning his loss while at the same time begging his forgiveness for having been the one who killed him.

  SEVEN

  Dr Oystein waves away Master Zhang’s help and rushes down the corridor, calling his Angels to arms, demanding all entrances be secured and the building searched for intruders. I remain with Burke’s revived corpse as everyone else races round in a panic. Nobody’s sure if there’s an army outside, ready to break down the doors, or if Burke acted by himself.

  Finally the doctor and Master Zhang return. Dr Oystein hasn’t changed clothes or bandaged his wound. There’s a small web of thick blood spreading slowly from a hole in his left shoulder. He winces as he squats beside me, but otherwise ignores his injury.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he says softly as he examines the newly created zombie. ‘Billy was a good man. He deserved better than this.’

  ‘He was vaccinated,’ I remind the doctor. ‘He might revitalise.’

  ‘I will pray for him,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘And we will guard him safely and keep him fed and comfortable.’

  ‘For how long?’ I ask.

  ‘As long as you wish,’ he says, then gently prises Burke away from me and helps him to his feet. As the zombie looks around blankly, Dr Oystein asks one of the Angels to take him to a nearby room and lock him away. ‘We will sort out more fitting accommodation for him later,’ he vows.

  ‘What the hell happened?’ Zhang snarls as the walking dead teacher is led away. ‘Why did he want to kill you?’

  ‘I do not know,’ Dr Oystein murmurs. ‘He was calling me a demon, but I have no idea what I could have done to enrage him.’

  ‘I don’t think it had anything to do with you,’ I sigh. ‘He said something else when I was holding him, just before he died. He said . . . Dowling.’

  Dr Oystein tenses. Zhang looks furious.

  ‘You think Mr Dowling was behind this?’ Zhang snaps.

  ‘He must have been. Otherwise why would Mr Burke have tried to warn me about him?’

  ‘Oystein?’ Zhang asks. ‘Did you hear Burke mention the clown’s name?’

  ‘No,’ Dr Oystein says. ‘But I am sure that B is right. That must have been what happened. Billy was our friend. He would not have tried to assassinate me out of the blue. My guess, based on what B has said, is that Mr Dowling injected Billy with some sort of drug which scrambled his senses, then programmed him to turn against me.’

  ‘He couldn’t have done that,’ I frown. ‘I saw him just a while ago.’

  ‘Mr Dowling?’ Dr Oystein gasps, eyes widening with fear.

  ‘No. Mr Burke. He was with Rage and me in the East End. We left him to come back here. We stopped to play football. Then you summoned us and we came in. There can’t have been time for him to be brainwashed.’

  Dr Oystein rubs the area around his wound and looks thoughtful. ‘That is strange. With time, a man of Mr Dowling’s resources could turn any one of us, but I am not aware of a drug which could make a puppet of a man so quickly. Then a
gain, Mr Dowling has access to chemicals that most people know nothing about. Perhaps it is something he developed himself. Either way, this is a worrying development, something new that we have to be wary of. I will investigate it further, flush out Billy’s system, try to unlock the mysteries of the drug from whatever traces it has left behind.

  ‘At least he went down fighting,’ Dr Oystein says, squeezing my arm to show his support. ‘Whatever Mr Dowling did to his mind, it wasn’t enough to break him completely. By warning you at the end, he has done us a great service. We might have thought him a traitor otherwise. This way we know that he was simply a victim.’

  ‘Only a coward uses a man’s friends to try to destroy him,’ Zhang grunts. ‘If Dowling had any honour, he would never have resorted to such an underhand tactic.’

  Dr Oystein smiles bitterly. ‘Nobody ever accused Mr Dowling of being honourable.’

  ‘I want to kill him,’ I growl. ‘I want to run him down and rip his grinning head from his body.’

  ‘We do not know where he is,’ Dr Oystein says.

  ‘We could find him.’

  The doc shakes his head. ‘That is what he wants, to lure us on to his turf, to hit us when we are disoriented and not thinking clearly. He would have known the odds were stacked against Billy. If he had seriously wanted to kill me, he would have devised a more cunning plan. This was nothing more than a provocative gesture designed to stir us up, perhaps a spur-of-the-moment whim when he found Billy alone and unprotected. We must not grant him the satisfaction of a reaction.’

  ‘So we’ll do nothing?’ I yell.

  ‘We will remember,’ Dr Oystein says calmly. ‘And when the day comes for us to move against Mr Dowling, we will do so in Billy Burke’s name, as well as in the name of so many others who have been killed or tormented by that accursed clown.’

  I stare at Dr Oystein helplessly. I don’t want to wait. I want to make Mr Dowling pay immediately. But I know the doc is right. Patience isn’t something that comes naturally to me, but I’ve been working on it and I’m learning to tell when it’s time to rush into action and when it’s time to hold back.