ZOM-B 11 Read Online Free PDF Page B

have mattered if I had. You were trapped. There was nothing else we could have done. It was join them or become their lunch.’
    Sister Clare frowns and turns her gaze on me. She’s not used to talking zombies. She checks the hole where my heart should be, making sure I’m really dead, then looks ahead again, dismissing me without thought.

    I wish I could do something for her, but she seems to be in good shape. Judging by the stains around her mouth, she ate not that long ago. There isn’t really any way for me to improve her
sad lot.
    ‘Come on,’ I tell Holy Moly, taking its hand. ‘We’re on my turf now. Let me be the guide for a while.’
    ‘
is your friend coming with us mummy?
’ the baby asks.
    ‘That crazy witch is no friend of mine,’ I snort. But then I pause and glance back one last time at the statue-like Sister Clare. There’s no reason why I should care about the
mad zealot after she brought her grisly end down on herself, leading a group of other people to their death while she was at it. But for some strange reason I feel sorry for her.
    ‘You’ll be properly dead soon,’ I murmur, insides clenching round the buried vial. ‘I hope you find peace, whether it’s in heaven or with your aliens. Think of me
every so often if you do.’
    Then, having wasted enough time on the undead woman, I work my way up through the station, squeezing by the zombies who pack the platform and tunnels. They’re even crowding the escalators,
sitting or standing on the steps, gazing blankly off into the distance like Sister Clare was. I wish the escalators were working – what I wouldn’t give for a smooth ride up out of the
depths – but they’re as lifeless as the people stacked along them.
    I limp onwards and upwards. Holy Moly ducks in and out between my legs as I walk, treating this as a game. I’m not looking any further ahead than the next step, not wanting to focus on how
far I have to go, knowing I’d lose heart if I stopped to check. What I can’t see can’t freak me out.
    Eventually I make it to the top, and I’m more relieved than I should be. I was beginning to think that I’d truly died, that this was hell, an endless series of steps that I’d
have to spend all of eternity climbing.
    ‘That was easy, wasn’t it?’ I mutter.
    ‘
yes
,’ Holy Moly says, missing the sarcasm.
    The ticket barriers are open, so at least I don’t have that hassle to deal with. We push through and out of the riverbank exit, into sunlight. The light hurts my eyes, but not as much as I
thought it would, and it starts to get dimmer after a few seconds, cancelling out the headache that I normally get when travelling by day.
    The dimness confuses me until I recall the special contact lenses that Mr Dowling stuck in when he rebuilt my ruined body. They must feature an automatic tinting system. I’m still not
comfortable in the sunlight, but I can deal with it and see much more clearly than I could before.
    ‘Thanks, hubby,’ I whisper, and spread my arms wide, feeling like Lazarus reborn. I’m sure I’m wearing a goofy smile but I don’t care. This is glorious after
the darkness of that underworld realm. Even the itching isn’t as bad as it used to be, probably because of all the replacement flesh that the clown grafted on to me.
    ‘
shall i leave you here mummy?
’ Holy Moly asks.
    That surprises me. The baby seems almost eager to be rid of me. But then I recall that I asked it to lead me safely to the city. Now that we’re here, it clearly thinks that its job is done. It’s not looking to abandon me
— it just assumes that I have no more need of it and want to be by myself. The babies are nothing if not literal.
    ‘Stick with me a few more minutes,’ I tell it, heading under a bridge to the right of the station. ‘I want to show you where I live. It’s a lovely sight. Let me
share it with you. Your reward for helping me out.’
    ‘
silly mummy
,’ Holy Moly beams. ‘
i don’t need a