Zom-B Angels Read Online Free PDF Page A

bobbing up and down inside. I showered thoroughly before getting in, however many weeks ago it was, but there was still a lot of dirt to come out.
    ‘Where’sh Docktohr Oyshteeen?’ I ask.

    ‘He’s not here,’ the boy says. ‘He’s been gone the last week or more, at his other laboratory. He told us to apologise on his behalf. He would have liked to be here
to welcome you back into the world, but his work called him away.’
    ‘It often does,’ the girl says, ‘so don’t take it personally.’
    ‘I whon’t. Who are yhou?’
    ‘I’m Cian,’ the boy says.
    ‘And I’m Awnya,’ the girl adds. ‘We’re twins.’
    ‘The only twin revitaliseds in London as far as we know,’ Cian says proudly.
    ‘Probably the world,’ Awnya beams.
    ‘Congrachulayshuns,’ I mutter sarcastically.
    ‘We’re in charge of clothing, bedding, furniture and so on,’ Cian tells me. ‘If there’s anything you need that you can’t be bothered going to look for
yourself, let us know and we’ll do our best to get it for you, whether it’s designer clothes, a certain brand of shoe or a specific type of hat.’
    ‘We got rid of your old clothes,’ Awnya says, ‘but we held on to the slouch hat in case it had sentimental value. You’ll find it on a shelf in your bedroom.’
    ‘Thanksh.’
    My gaze returns to the Groove Tube, longingly this time. I don’t remember much after Dr Oystein helped me climb inside. I recall the feeling of the liquid oozing down my throat –
surprisingly not as unpleasant as when I had to force it back up – but then I drifted off into a blissful state where everything seemed warm and right. It was like I used to feel when
I’d lie in bed on a Sunday morning, having stayed up late to watch horror movies the night before, not asleep but not yet fully awake. The feeling of being somewhere comfortable and safe, the
world not totally real, still part dreamy.
    I smoked a bit of weed back in the day – Mum would have killed me if she’d known! – but I didn’t try anything more exotic. Based on what friends of mine who had done
harder drugs told me, the feeling I had inside the Groove Tube must have been a lot like going on a headtrip. Part of me wants to crawl back inside and bliss out again, return to the land of dreams
and stay there forever, escape this world of the living dead. But I recall what Dr Oystein told me about only using the Tubes to cure injuries. Besides, that would be like committing suicide. This
is a bad, mad world, but running away from it isn’t the answer. Well, it’s not
my
answer.
    I’m about to ask the twins to show me to my room when I glance at the other Groove Tubes and come to a halt. One of the Tubes is occupied by a large teenager. He has a big head, hair cut
close, small ears, beady eyes. Fat, rosy cheeks, a chunk bitten out of the left one. He looks like a real bruiser, and I know that in this case looks are definitely
not
deceptive.
    The last time I saw this guy was in a corridor deep underground. He’d just killed a scientist and scooped the still-warm brain from the dead man’s skull. He was a zom head like me
and the others, but he took off solo, leaving the rest of us to rot. He cared only for himself and was prepared to kill his guardians and betray his friends as long as it suited his own selfish
purposes.
    He looks comical, floating in the Tube, naked, eyes open as they are on all zombies, but expression distant. He’s unaware of everything, defenceless, at the mercy of Dr Oystein and his
Angels.
    And me.
    But I’m not prepared to show him mercy, just as he didn’t show any to me, Mark or the other zom heads. This bastard deserves execution more than most, and I’m just the girl to
do the world that small favour.
    ‘
Rhage!
’ I snarl, pressing my face up close to the glass of the Groove Tube. Then I step back and look around eagerly for a weapon to kill him.

EIGHT
    ‘No, B,’ Cian snaps and tries to pull me back.
    I wrestle with