Zombie Business

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When Bridget was captured by a hunter called Barnes, an ex-soldier from America who was an expert when it came to killing or capturing zombies, destiny set her on course for a showdown with Mr Alfie. Barnes was working for the Board, a group of rich and powerful humans who had granted his son a place on an island where zombies couldn't attack him. In return for this favour, Barnes was obliged to hand B over to the Board, whose members gleefully passed the time by watching her duel to the death with other zombies.

A repentant Barnes later helped B escape, before setting off to rescue his son, whose safety was no longer guaranteed now that his father had betrayed his foul employers. But B wasn't finished with the Board, and again ended up in their clutches months later. The most twisted of their party was the fiendish Dan-Dan, who strapped her down in his quarters in Battersea Power Station, and pro ceeded to pick her body apart as painfully as he could.

It looked as if B's time was up, but, to her shock, Mr Alfie charged to her rescue. Aided by his mutants and a team of lethal, genderless babies, he swarmed the Power Station and freed her.

The clown's babies carried B deep underground to Mr Alfie's lair, where he patched her fragile carcass back together. She found out that the babies had been cloned from her DNA, making her their virtual mother. The clown wanted her to marry him and rule by his side, so that they could eventually replace humanity with their eerie offspring.

B wasn't interested in playing happy families with Mr Alfie, but, as he shared his memories with her, she began to feel sorry for him. He had been a decent man once, until something dreadful hap pened and cast him into a state of insane chaos.

When Mr Alfie promised to stop killing if B married him, she bowed to his wishes, hoping it might signal the start of his recovery. After a warped but oddly sweet ceremony, the pair retired to their wedding chamber, where the clown granted her access to his innermost thoughts.

It should have been a peaceful, loving time, but B found herself instinctively smashing through Mr Alfie's mental defences. Without having planned it, she pinpointed the location of his vial of Schlesinger-10. The betrayed clown tried to kill her and the pair fought fiercely. B got the better of her husband, but, before she could finish him off, the enraged babies stormed the room and ripped into her. They would have killed her, but one of their own Holy Moly, a baby with a hole in its head reminded them that B was their mummy. Confused, they let her go, and she set off through the under ground lair, wounded and alone, in search of the vial which would ensure victory for mankind if she could deliver it safely into the hands of Dr Quinn, but all too aware that time was against her and that Mr Alfie and his mutants would surely execute her if they caught up.

I left Mr Alfie unconscious. I zapped him with enough electricity to put a normal person out of action for a whole day. But the clown is far from normal and I can't bank on him staying down for too long. I reckon I might have as little as an hour or two before he stirs and calls for help. Maybe less if Kinslow or one of his other mutants comes to check on him. Time, as they say, is of the essence.

The trouble is, the shape I'm in at the moment, I'd struggle to win a race with a snail. Although Mr Alfie repaired the worst of the damage, I hadn't fully recovered from Dan-Dan's mauling by the time of my wedding. The babies reopened lots of old wounds when they attacked me, and inflicted plenty of new ones.

Every step is agony. The recently restored flesh of my stomach has been clawed away. Most of my replacement ribs have been snapped off. Bones are broken. I'm bleeding all over, thick, gloopy blood slowly oozing from my injuries. I didn't think there was that much of the crimson stuff left - Dan-Dan drained off lots of it while he was torturing me - but there must have been hidden reserves.

I'll have to do something about the blood. The loss won't really harm me, but if I don't stop it, I'll leave a trail that even a blind mutant will be able to follow. Still, I can't worry about that until I locate the vial of Schlesinger-10. If Mr Alfie recovers sooner than I anticipate, he'll know exactly where I'm going and he'll set the mutants on me. No point wasting time. My priority has to be to lay my hands on the vial. Only then can I start planning my next move. 

stagger along, picking my way from room to room through the maze which Mr Alfie and his assistants have built over the years. If this wasn't the day of my wedding, there'd be mutants relaxing, working and patrolling the corridors, even this far from the centre of the complex. But the celebrations must still be going strong, because I encounter no one. They're all toasting my health in the wedding chamber, unaware that their master is lying on his honeymoon bed unconscious, while their newly crowned mistress is plotting their downfall.

I'd love to return to Mr Alfie's bedroom-c*m laboratory and immerse myself in the pool of restorative blood and brains. A long soak in that would cure many of my ills. With all the mutants still celebrating the wedding, there's a chance I could steal in, rest up, then slip out again without anyone spot ting me. But it's too risky - if one of them spots me in my b****y, bedraggled state, they'll know some thing is up and raise the alarm.

I don't even stop for a few minutes to rest, sînce the clock is ticking. Instead I push myself as hard as

I can, ignoring the agonised protests of my body as I force it through the pain barrier once again.