Zom-B Gladiator Read Online Free PDF Page B

sure why, it’s just the way they’re wired.
    Angels on earlier missions to find survivors never bothered to check a building that was home to a nest of reviveds. Now, having been clued in by those we’ve rescued, we’re more thorough.
    ‘Oh what fun,’ Rage grumbles as we exitanother block of flats with nothing to show for the time spent panning around inside.
    ‘Patience is a virtue,’ Ashtat says.
    ‘What’s so special about the living anyway?’ Rage sniffs. ‘Why should we care about them? If they find their way to County Hall, fair enough, it would be rude not to let them in. But we could be tracking down mutants, turning the tables on hunters, kicking Mr Dowling’sarse. This is a waste of our time.’
    ‘Yeah,’ Shane says, backing up his buddy as he normally does.
    ‘Don’t act like an infant,’ Carl snaps. ‘We’re fighting this war for the sake of those who are still alive.’
    ‘Sure,’ Rage says, ‘but there are millions in camps or on islands dotted around the world. What does it matter if we rustle up a few more? It’s not going to make a difference.’
    ‘It will to those we rescue,’ Ashtat says.
    ‘Well, duh !’ Rage snorts. ‘I’m talking about the bigger picture. That’s what we’re supposed to be looking at, right? The doc told us that the minor battles being fought across the globe are meaningless. The fight here, between us and the clown’s forces, is the only real game in town. So why aren’t we focusing on that? We should be too busyto play at being Good Samaritans.’
    Shane nods fiercely. ‘What he said.’
    Ashtat and Carl scowl at Rage and Shane, but don’t come back with an argument because they can’t think of one. I’m not bothered. It doesn’t matter to me. I just do what I’m told and try not to think too much. That should be the end of the debate, a win for Rage, but then, breaking his usual moody silence, Jakob speaksup.
    ‘I think it’s to remind us that we were once human.’
    We stare at the thin, pale boy. He doesn’t speak very often. It’s easy to think of him as a mute.
    ‘I forget sometimes,’ he says softly. ‘I find it hard to recall my life before this. It seems like I’ve been an undead creature for as long as I can remember.’
    ‘So what?’ Rage asks when Jakob falls silent again.
    ‘When I feeldistant from my humanity,’ Jakob whispers, ‘I think about linking up with Mr Dowling and his mutants. From all the reports, they have a grand time, going wherever they like, killing as they please, not caring about anyone except themselves. It must be liberating to be that brutal. The world has fallen. The walking dead have taken over. We don’t neatly fit into one camp or the other. Why notthrow in our lot with the clown and his crew, kill off the remaining humans and enjoy the party for the next few thousand years?’
    ‘Blimey,’ Rage laughs. ‘And I thought I had a dark side.’
    Jakob shrugs, wincing at the pain that brings to his battered, cancer-ridden body. ‘That’s just the way my mind wanders. Am I the only one who has thought such things?’
    He looks around and everyonedrops their gaze, except for Rage, who nods enthusiastically.
    ‘Dr Oystein sees through us,’ Jakob says. ‘He knows all that we imagine. He can’t rely on our unwavering support, because any one of us could give into desperation and temptation, and change sides.
    ‘I think the searching, the rescues and escorting survivors to safe havens outside London are to keep us in contact with the memoriesof what it was like to be alive. Because if we lose those, or if they come to mean nothing to us, what’s to hold us in place? Why should we bother to stay loyal?’
    There’s a long silence as we think about that. Jakob might not say much, but when he does speak, he tends to have something worth saying.
    ‘Is that why you’ve been so distant recently?’ Rage asks me. ‘Are you thinking aboutstabbing us in the back and heading over Mr Dowling’s