Zombie Business

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As my thoughts turn more maudlin, Holy Moly helps me squeeze through a hole and we strike the tracks of a Tube line. The going is easier here. There's even the occasional light to see by. I worry that we might run into mutants - I thought Mr Dowling would have dispatched patrols in both directions along the track, figuring I'd have to connect with it at some point - but there's no sign of them.

We pass through Mansion House Station, dotted with zombies who pay us little heed. Strange to think that they'll all be stiff, harmless corpses within a few weeks, decomposing sacks of flesh and bone. Will humans come through here again one day, clean the cadavers away and restore the train service? Or will they shut these places down and leave them as mau soleums, bearers of the dark, grisly secrets of the past?

I hobble along stubbornly without pause, through the stations at Blackfriars and Temple, only stopping when I come to Embankment. This is where I'll leave the underworld behind, taking the station exit like commuters did in the old days.

'You can leave me here if you like,' I tell Holy Moly.

The baby shakes its head. 'not until we get to the

city, i promised to take you to the city mummy.'

'You'd have made a great bodyguard,' I chuckle, then lift Holy Moly up on to the platform. I didn't really need to do that the baby can look after - itself - but I wanted to feel useful.

I groan and wheeze, trying to pull myself up too. Holy Moly could help, maybe find a rope or some bags that I could use as steps, but it can see that I want to do this by myself, so it stands there quietly, leaving me to my own devices.

There are lots of zombies filling the platform, which means it must be daytime up in the world above. The living dead hordes study me with disin terest, not caring where I've come from or why I'm dressed so strangely. They have no interest in that they can't eat. anyone

Finally I clear the tracks and haul myself to my feet. I feel like I've climbed a mountain. I clasp my hands over my head and cheer jokingly at the zom bies on the platform. But then I spot a figure standing close by the stop in spot amazement. where I crawled up, and I

It's a woman. She's dressed in white robes, and her hair is white too. I've seen her before in a station like this, when her robes and hair were a lot cleaner than they are now, but that was in Liverpool Street. She was alive when she entered the place, but she never came out. I turned her into a zombie, at her request, to prevent her brain being eaten when we were cor nered by a pack of reviveds.

'Sister Clare?' I wheeze with disbelief.

The former leader of the Order of the Shnax doesn't respond. She's staring off into of the zombies on the platform. space, like most

'How did you get here?' I groan, shuffling across to stand in front of her, wanting her to recognise me and respond.

The zombie says nothing. She doesn't even look at me.

I study the once barmy Sister Clare. She looks much the same as I remember. The months have been good to her. Dirtier than when she was alive, her face stained with dried blood from where she's eaten, robes filthy and ripped in several places. But otherwise there's not much difference.

'Poor cow,' I whisper, reaching up to touch her cheek. She doesn't flinch. You hoped you'd revitalise, but that was never an option. I didn't know it then, but I suppose it wouldn't have mattered if I had. You were trapped. There was nothing else we could have done. It was join them or become their lunch.'

Sister Clare frowns and turns her gaze on me. She's not used to talking zombies. She checks the hole where my heart should be, making sure I'm really dead, then looks ahead again, dismissing me without thought.

I wish I could do something for her, but she seems to be in good shape. Judging by the stains around her mouth, she ate not that long ago. There isn't really any way for me to improve her sad lot.

'Come on,' I tell Holy Moly, taking its hand. 'We're on my turf now. Let me be the guide for a while.'

is your friend coming with us mummy?" the baby asks.

'That witch is no friend of mine,' I snort. crazy But then I pause and glance back one last time at the statue-like Sister Clare. There's no reason why I should care about the mad zealot after she brought her grisly end down on herself, leading a group of other people to their death while she was at it. But for some strange reason I feel sorry for her.

'You'll be properly dead soon,' I murmur, insides clenching round the buried vial. 'I hope you peace, whether it's in heaven or with Think of me every so often if you do.' your find aliens.

Then, having wasted enough time on the undead woman, I work my way up through the station, squeezing by the zombies who pack the platform and tunnels. They're even crowding the escalators, sitting or standing on the steps, gazing blankly off into the distance like Sister Clare was. I wish the escalators were working - what I wouldn't give for a smooth ride up out of the depths - but they're as lifeless as the people stacked along them.

I limp onwards and upwards. Holy Moly ducks in and out between my legs as I walk, treating this as a game. I'm not looking any further ahead than the next step, not wanting to focus on how far I have to go, knowing I'd lose heart if I stopped to check. What I can't see can't freak me out.

Eventually I make it to the top, and I'm more relieved than I should be. I was beginning to think that I'd truly died, that this was hell, an endless series of steps ing. that I'd have to spend all of eternity climb

"That was easy, wasn't it?' I mutter. yes,' Holy Moly says, missing the sarcasm.