zombies see that I’m not trying to escape, that I have no need to run, that I’m the same as them.
A few of the reviveds sniff me suspiciously, growling like dogs, but then they leave me be and tear the remains of the rucksack to shreds, trying to squeeze out any last morsels of brain that
might be hidden in the folds.
I look up at Master Zhang, shamefully, as the zombies part around me, but he’s following Rage, no longer interested in me. I think about heading back to County Hall, or maybe just slipping
away completely, figuring that’s the end of my career as an Angel. But I want to see what happens to Rage. I’m hoping he’ll brick it like I did and cast his rucksack aside.
But Rage is like a wrecking ball. The zombies slow him down, but they can’t stop him. He slaps them back with the arm, punches and kicks them when the arm is no longer any good, sticks his
head down and forces his way forward, refusing to accept defeat. I almost cheer on the rampaging brute, but then I recall how he killed Dr Cerveris and deserted the rest of the zom heads, and I
hold my tongue.
He finally makes it to the end of the concourse and squeezes through the exit. As soon as he’s out, he tears off the rucksack and lobs it back inside the station. The reviveds scurry after
it, quickly losing interest in him, as they lost it in me.
‘Now
that
was fun,’ Rage grins as we join him outside. He wipes blood – not his own – from his face. ‘I guess some of us have what it takes, Becky, and
some of us don’t.’
‘Bite me,’ I snarl, then cast a miserable look at Master Zhang. ‘I guess this means I’ve had it.’
‘Not at all,’ he says, surprising both of us.
‘What are you talking about?’ Rage snaps. ‘She failed.’
‘No,’ Zhang says. ‘The test is designed to measure one’s bravery, ingenuity and strength, but also one’s level of common sense. Almost no novice Angel has made it
all the way across the concourse. In fact you are only the third, and the other two made it with cunning and speed, not sheer muscle power.’
‘Sweet!’ Rage beams, thrilled with himself.
‘So . . . I didn’t fail?’ I frown.
‘No. You showed that you were willing to face adversity, and you handled yourself well. In fact you made it further than most. But just as importantly, when you realised you could go no
further, you were sensible enough to rid yourself of the beacon which was attracting the reviveds. Those who fail are those who break too early with fear, or those who lack the wit to throw away
the rucksack.’
‘Then I did better than Rage, in a way,’ I joke.
‘In your dreams,’ Rage grunts.
‘There is no better or worse in my eyes,’ Master Zhang says. ‘You both passed. That is the end of the matter.’
With that, he heads back to County Hall, but circles round the rear of the station this time, rather than return through the concourse. Rage slides up beside me as we trail our mentor. He points
to himself and says, ‘One of three.’ Then he points to me and says, ‘One of
who cares
?’
He laughs and moves on before I can reply, leaving me to scowl angrily at his back with a mixture of hatred, jealousy and grudging respect.
NINETEEN
Master Zhang leads Rage and me back to the room in County Hall where I was training earlier. He says that since he has both of us with him, he will train with the pair of us
for the rest of the session.
I get excited when I hear that. After passing our Waterloo-based test, I assume that we’re ready to move on, that he’ll start teaching us complicated moves. But it’s business
as usual, the only change being that he now takes turns to throw us to the floor. I’m pleased to see that Rage is treated the same way I am, but disappointed that Master Zhang isn’t
taking us a few stages further forward.
We’ve been back about an hour when the door opens and Dr Oystein steps into the room. He’s not alone. Ashtat, Carl, Shane and Jakob are with him,
A few of the reviveds sniff me suspiciously, growling like dogs, but then they leave me be and tear the remains of the rucksack to shreds, trying to squeeze out any last morsels of brain that
might be hidden in the folds.
I look up at Master Zhang, shamefully, as the zombies part around me, but he’s following Rage, no longer interested in me. I think about heading back to County Hall, or maybe just slipping
away completely, figuring that’s the end of my career as an Angel. But I want to see what happens to Rage. I’m hoping he’ll brick it like I did and cast his rucksack aside.
But Rage is like a wrecking ball. The zombies slow him down, but they can’t stop him. He slaps them back with the arm, punches and kicks them when the arm is no longer any good, sticks his
head down and forces his way forward, refusing to accept defeat. I almost cheer on the rampaging brute, but then I recall how he killed Dr Cerveris and deserted the rest of the zom heads, and I
hold my tongue.
He finally makes it to the end of the concourse and squeezes through the exit. As soon as he’s out, he tears off the rucksack and lobs it back inside the station. The reviveds scurry after
it, quickly losing interest in him, as they lost it in me.
‘Now
that
was fun,’ Rage grins as we join him outside. He wipes blood – not his own – from his face. ‘I guess some of us have what it takes, Becky, and
some of us don’t.’
‘Bite me,’ I snarl, then cast a miserable look at Master Zhang. ‘I guess this means I’ve had it.’
‘Not at all,’ he says, surprising both of us.
‘What are you talking about?’ Rage snaps. ‘She failed.’
‘No,’ Zhang says. ‘The test is designed to measure one’s bravery, ingenuity and strength, but also one’s level of common sense. Almost no novice Angel has made it
all the way across the concourse. In fact you are only the third, and the other two made it with cunning and speed, not sheer muscle power.’
‘Sweet!’ Rage beams, thrilled with himself.
‘So . . . I didn’t fail?’ I frown.
‘No. You showed that you were willing to face adversity, and you handled yourself well. In fact you made it further than most. But just as importantly, when you realised you could go no
further, you were sensible enough to rid yourself of the beacon which was attracting the reviveds. Those who fail are those who break too early with fear, or those who lack the wit to throw away
the rucksack.’
‘Then I did better than Rage, in a way,’ I joke.
‘In your dreams,’ Rage grunts.
‘There is no better or worse in my eyes,’ Master Zhang says. ‘You both passed. That is the end of the matter.’
With that, he heads back to County Hall, but circles round the rear of the station this time, rather than return through the concourse. Rage slides up beside me as we trail our mentor. He points
to himself and says, ‘One of three.’ Then he points to me and says, ‘One of
who cares
?’
He laughs and moves on before I can reply, leaving me to scowl angrily at his back with a mixture of hatred, jealousy and grudging respect.
NINETEEN
Master Zhang leads Rage and me back to the room in County Hall where I was training earlier. He says that since he has both of us with him, he will train with the pair of us
for the rest of the session.
I get excited when I hear that. After passing our Waterloo-based test, I assume that we’re ready to move on, that he’ll start teaching us complicated moves. But it’s business
as usual, the only change being that he now takes turns to throw us to the floor. I’m pleased to see that Rage is treated the same way I am, but disappointed that Master Zhang isn’t
taking us a few stages further forward.
We’ve been back about an hour when the door opens and Dr Oystein steps into the room. He’s not alone. Ashtat, Carl, Shane and Jakob are with him,
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