the poles, jamming her in place. I leave her there, stuck, to finish off at the end when I’m done with the others.
I bargeone of the men into a wall at a point which I’ve identified as a possible weak spot. The steel panel always shakes when someone is thrown against it. I keep hoping that it will tear loose completely one day, but no joy so far. Today it rattles as usual but holds.
The members of the Board keep up a running commentary. They’re sipping champagne, casually discussing the battle, their plansfor the future, what they fancy for dinner. They’re a boring, self-obsessed lot. I’d rather total silence, but I can’t tell them that or they’d talk all the louder just to spite me.
The other female zombie snags the hole in my chest with her fingerbones and tears five nasty channels through the flesh down towards my belly button.
‘Yowzers!’ Dan-Dan howls happily as I roar with pain.
‘That’s got to hurt,’ Lord Luca chuckles.
I kick the woman away and flee to the far side of the arena, gritting my teeth. I quickly examine the wounds to make sure no guts are spilling out. Then I leap over the head of one of the onrushing men. But I don’t get as much height as I thought I would. He clips my legs and drags meto the ground, then bellows and smashes a fist at my face. The bones jutting out of his fingers glint in the light. If he connects, it’s game over and at least I won’t have to worry about ending up in the clutches of Dan-Dan.
But it’s impossible to lie still and let myself be killed. My defences kick in automatically. I knock the man’s hand aside and twist my head in the opposite direction.His fist slams into the floor and instead of breaking my skull, he breaks a few of the bones in his fingers.
I scramble to my feet and stagger away from the other reviveds, who are all closing in on me, except for the trapped woman. A long strip of ducting runs the length of what was once the dining hall. I jump and haul myself up, wedging myself between the ducting and the ceiling. There’sjust enough space for me. I’ve squeezed in here before when I’ve needed a rest.
The zombies punch the base and sides of the ducting, trying to grab hold and pull me down. But they can’t get at me, except to scratch the sides of my arms and legs. If a few of them climbed up, the ducting would come crashing to the floor, leaving me at the mercy of my foes. But thankfully they aren’t smartenough to work that out.
‘No fair,’ Dan-Dan shouts, slapping the glass. ‘I hate it when she does that. Why can’t we take that ducting out of there?’
‘Now now,’ Justin tuts. ‘We have to give her a reasonable chance. It’s more fun this way. She can’t stay up there forever.’
I’ve tried crawling through the ducting at either end, but both exits have been sealed. Still, when I’m up here,I usually creep to one end or the other to hurl a few blows at the bolted-on steel plates, just in case there’s any give.
I start pulling myself along like an injured snake. The zombies follow beneath me, scraping at the ducting, gurgling furiously. I wonder if they hate me more than the humans, if they see me as a traitor to the undead cause.
As I’m mulling that over and trying totune out Dan-Dan’s jeers, the sound of gunfire echoes down from the deck above. Nobody takes any notice of it at first. The guards on the upper deck often fire at passing zombies, or even at corpses floating down the river, for practice. But this time it doesn’t stop after a few seconds as it normally does. It’s sustained. Then, moments later, mingled in with the gunfire, I hear what might justbe the sweetest noise ever.
Human screams.
The lords and ladies of the Board have fallen silent. They’re staring at the open doorway on their side of the glass divide, heads cocked, jaws slack. They don’t look like the masters and mistresses of the universe any more.
The zombies keep slapping at the ducting, unaware of the change
I bargeone of the men into a wall at a point which I’ve identified as a possible weak spot. The steel panel always shakes when someone is thrown against it. I keep hoping that it will tear loose completely one day, but no joy so far. Today it rattles as usual but holds.
The members of the Board keep up a running commentary. They’re sipping champagne, casually discussing the battle, their plansfor the future, what they fancy for dinner. They’re a boring, self-obsessed lot. I’d rather total silence, but I can’t tell them that or they’d talk all the louder just to spite me.
The other female zombie snags the hole in my chest with her fingerbones and tears five nasty channels through the flesh down towards my belly button.
‘Yowzers!’ Dan-Dan howls happily as I roar with pain.
‘That’s got to hurt,’ Lord Luca chuckles.
I kick the woman away and flee to the far side of the arena, gritting my teeth. I quickly examine the wounds to make sure no guts are spilling out. Then I leap over the head of one of the onrushing men. But I don’t get as much height as I thought I would. He clips my legs and drags meto the ground, then bellows and smashes a fist at my face. The bones jutting out of his fingers glint in the light. If he connects, it’s game over and at least I won’t have to worry about ending up in the clutches of Dan-Dan.
But it’s impossible to lie still and let myself be killed. My defences kick in automatically. I knock the man’s hand aside and twist my head in the opposite direction.His fist slams into the floor and instead of breaking my skull, he breaks a few of the bones in his fingers.
I scramble to my feet and stagger away from the other reviveds, who are all closing in on me, except for the trapped woman. A long strip of ducting runs the length of what was once the dining hall. I jump and haul myself up, wedging myself between the ducting and the ceiling. There’sjust enough space for me. I’ve squeezed in here before when I’ve needed a rest.
The zombies punch the base and sides of the ducting, trying to grab hold and pull me down. But they can’t get at me, except to scratch the sides of my arms and legs. If a few of them climbed up, the ducting would come crashing to the floor, leaving me at the mercy of my foes. But thankfully they aren’t smartenough to work that out.
‘No fair,’ Dan-Dan shouts, slapping the glass. ‘I hate it when she does that. Why can’t we take that ducting out of there?’
‘Now now,’ Justin tuts. ‘We have to give her a reasonable chance. It’s more fun this way. She can’t stay up there forever.’
I’ve tried crawling through the ducting at either end, but both exits have been sealed. Still, when I’m up here,I usually creep to one end or the other to hurl a few blows at the bolted-on steel plates, just in case there’s any give.
I start pulling myself along like an injured snake. The zombies follow beneath me, scraping at the ducting, gurgling furiously. I wonder if they hate me more than the humans, if they see me as a traitor to the undead cause.
As I’m mulling that over and trying totune out Dan-Dan’s jeers, the sound of gunfire echoes down from the deck above. Nobody takes any notice of it at first. The guards on the upper deck often fire at passing zombies, or even at corpses floating down the river, for practice. But this time it doesn’t stop after a few seconds as it normally does. It’s sustained. Then, moments later, mingled in with the gunfire, I hear what might justbe the sweetest noise ever.
Human screams.
The lords and ladies of the Board have fallen silent. They’re staring at the open doorway on their side of the glass divide, heads cocked, jaws slack. They don’t look like the masters and mistresses of the universe any more.
The zombies keep slapping at the ducting, unaware of the change
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