and surge towards me in a mob, forcing me back into the centre of the concourse.
Rage is surrounded and is lashing out with his fists, trying to shove past those who block his way. It looks impossible, but he’s kept up his momentum, like a burly rugby player forcing
back a scrum.
I take a different approach. As zombies clutch at me and throw themselves in my path, I duck and shimmy and veer around them. I’ve been in a situation like this before, in Liverpool
Street, when I was trying to escape with Sister Clare of the Shnax, so I put that experience to good use.
A sprawling zombie – he looks like he was a construction worker when he was alive – grabs my left leg just above my ankle and pulls me down. I kick out at him as I fall and he slides
away from me. I realise he has no legs – they look like they were torn from him at the knees when he was turned – which is why he’s lying on the floor.
Taking advantage of my unexpected fall, I slip through the legs of a couple of zombies ahead of me. One is a woman in a miniskirt. I grab hold of the skirt and spin her around, so that she
clatters into several other zombies and knocks them over. As the skirt rips, I let her go, propel myself to my feet and carry on.
Rage has found a way through the press of zombies around him and has picked up speed. He calls cheerfully to me, ‘This is the life, isn’t it?’
I ignore him and stay focused on the reviveds, ducking their grasping fingers, kicking out at them, looking for open channels that I can exploit.
Master Zhang is trailing us, slowly, as if out for a Sunday stroll. He watches calmly, but not too curiously. I guess he’s seen all this lots of times before.
A girl my own sort of age grabs the rucksack on my back and tries to wrestle it from me, either realising that the smell is coming from there, or simply seeing it as the best way to slow me
down. I turn sharply and slam the flat of my palm up into her chin, snapping her head back and knocking her loose.
‘An interesting move,’ Master Zhang says. ‘Most people in your position would have simply punched her.’
I don’t reply. There’s no time. Before the girl staggers away from me, I grab her and force her to her knees. Then I step on to her back and launch myself forward, flying over the
heads of a pack of zombies who were closing in on me.
‘Oh, now even I’ve got to applaud that one,’ Rage booms, clapping loudly. He’s been forced to a standstill close to where I land. ‘How about we do this as a
team?’ he bellows, offering me his hand.
‘Get stuffed,’ I snap, and look for another small zombie that I can use as a springboard.
This time, as I’m hurling myself into the air, one of the reviveds catches hold of my left foot and hauls me to the floor. A cluster of them press in around me, fingers clawing at my face,
trying to rip my head open, to get to the juicy brain which they think is the source of the smell.
‘No!’ I scream, pushing them back and struggling to my feet. I look around desperately, hoping that Master Zhang will help. But he just stands there, gazing at me, challenging me
with his expression to figure my own way out of this mess.
Rage is moving forward again. He’s snapped an arm off one of the zombies and is using it as a club, lashing out at anyone within range. Many of the zombies who get knocked back by him
shake their heads, then refocus on me, figuring I offer easier pickings. A huge crowd of them starts to close in around me.
‘Sod this,’ I pant, knowing my number’s up if I don’t act swiftly.
Wriggling free of the rucksack, I rip it open and start throwing slivers of brain around, as if it was some weird kind of confetti. When the zombies spot the grey chunks, they go wild, but now
they’re concentrating on the bits of brain, trying to catch them as I toss them about, emptying the rucksack as quickly as I can.
When the rucksack is clean, I let it drop and fall still, letting the
Rage is surrounded and is lashing out with his fists, trying to shove past those who block his way. It looks impossible, but he’s kept up his momentum, like a burly rugby player forcing
back a scrum.
I take a different approach. As zombies clutch at me and throw themselves in my path, I duck and shimmy and veer around them. I’ve been in a situation like this before, in Liverpool
Street, when I was trying to escape with Sister Clare of the Shnax, so I put that experience to good use.
A sprawling zombie – he looks like he was a construction worker when he was alive – grabs my left leg just above my ankle and pulls me down. I kick out at him as I fall and he slides
away from me. I realise he has no legs – they look like they were torn from him at the knees when he was turned – which is why he’s lying on the floor.
Taking advantage of my unexpected fall, I slip through the legs of a couple of zombies ahead of me. One is a woman in a miniskirt. I grab hold of the skirt and spin her around, so that she
clatters into several other zombies and knocks them over. As the skirt rips, I let her go, propel myself to my feet and carry on.
Rage has found a way through the press of zombies around him and has picked up speed. He calls cheerfully to me, ‘This is the life, isn’t it?’
I ignore him and stay focused on the reviveds, ducking their grasping fingers, kicking out at them, looking for open channels that I can exploit.
Master Zhang is trailing us, slowly, as if out for a Sunday stroll. He watches calmly, but not too curiously. I guess he’s seen all this lots of times before.
A girl my own sort of age grabs the rucksack on my back and tries to wrestle it from me, either realising that the smell is coming from there, or simply seeing it as the best way to slow me
down. I turn sharply and slam the flat of my palm up into her chin, snapping her head back and knocking her loose.
‘An interesting move,’ Master Zhang says. ‘Most people in your position would have simply punched her.’
I don’t reply. There’s no time. Before the girl staggers away from me, I grab her and force her to her knees. Then I step on to her back and launch myself forward, flying over the
heads of a pack of zombies who were closing in on me.
‘Oh, now even I’ve got to applaud that one,’ Rage booms, clapping loudly. He’s been forced to a standstill close to where I land. ‘How about we do this as a
team?’ he bellows, offering me his hand.
‘Get stuffed,’ I snap, and look for another small zombie that I can use as a springboard.
This time, as I’m hurling myself into the air, one of the reviveds catches hold of my left foot and hauls me to the floor. A cluster of them press in around me, fingers clawing at my face,
trying to rip my head open, to get to the juicy brain which they think is the source of the smell.
‘No!’ I scream, pushing them back and struggling to my feet. I look around desperately, hoping that Master Zhang will help. But he just stands there, gazing at me, challenging me
with his expression to figure my own way out of this mess.
Rage is moving forward again. He’s snapped an arm off one of the zombies and is using it as a club, lashing out at anyone within range. Many of the zombies who get knocked back by him
shake their heads, then refocus on me, figuring I offer easier pickings. A huge crowd of them starts to close in around me.
‘Sod this,’ I pant, knowing my number’s up if I don’t act swiftly.
Wriggling free of the rucksack, I rip it open and start throwing slivers of brain around, as if it was some weird kind of confetti. When the zombies spot the grey chunks, they go wild, but now
they’re concentrating on the bits of brain, trying to catch them as I toss them about, emptying the rucksack as quickly as I can.
When the rucksack is clean, I let it drop and fall still, letting the
Similar Books
