The Poison Factory Read Free Page A

smelled it; it smelled nice, like apple. It almost made him dizzy, it looked and smelled so good. It was in his mouth before he even knew it, almost as if his hand had a mind of its own. Chewing on it, he shrugged, savouring the taste. Damo was staring at the bag, which was being held up right in front of his face. Gaz handed it to him.
    ‘Just take one,’ he whispered, around the sweet between his teeth.
    Damo picked out a black one, and popped it in his mouth.
    ‘Dey’re goodge,’ he mumbled, still trying to use his hand to talk, and nearly sticking a finger in Gaz’s eye.
    Outside, the zombies continued to stagger past.
    Damo offered the bag to Hayley. ‘Have one.’
    ‘No,’ Hayley hissed. ‘I’ve a funny feeling about those sweets. They’re giving off a … a negative energy.’
    ‘What a load of rubbish. Take one!’ Damo insisted.
    ‘Yeah, go on,’ Gaz repeated.
    He was feeling a little guilty about taking one now that she’d said no. If she had one, he’d feel better about it.
    ‘Mam told me never to take sweets from strangers,’ Hayley told them, giving the bag a longing look. They did smell good.
    ‘So what? I’m not a stranger,’ Damo pointed out.
    ‘Oh, yeah,’ Hayley frowned, as she twisted the logic round in her head. ‘I suppose that’s alright then.’
    She reached into the bag, and took an orange jelly.
    ‘They’re really nice,’ she smiled, as she chewed. ‘Sort of fizzy.’
    Munching on their jellies, they waited for the zombies to go away.
    ‘This is totally mental,’ Damo muttered. ‘What kind of factory uses zombies to pack boxes?’
    ‘I don’t want to find out,’ Gaz said softly. ‘That’s the last of them. Let’s get a move on.’
    Very, very carefully, he opened the locker door and looked out. The corridor was empty. The three children tugged themselves free of the cramped space and nearly fell out into the hallway. There was only one way to go; a door at the very end of the corridor. But that was where the zombies had gone. They crept forward, none of them wanting to be first to look through the door. There was a low, angry groaning, and the sound of dozens of feet shuffling hurriedly around. The children’s curiosity got the better of them. They all peeked their heads round the doorframe.
    The door opened into a large lounge. It was filled with couches and armchairs, and a big wide-screen television hung on one wall. The living dead were milling around and moaning angrily. They were pulling up all the cushions on the couches, and turning over the furniture. They seemed veryannoyed.
    Hayley suddenly let rip with a loud belch, and Gaz and Damo turned to look at her in shock. One of the zombies – a woman with no nose and her teeth showing through her cheek – spun round and spotted the children. She stared for a moment, and then let out a hoarse bellow. The Root Street Gang screamed. The other zombies turned, and with a chorus of growls and snarls, staggered towards the children.
    ‘LEG IT!’ Gaz yelled.

    And they did. They tore back the way they had come, through the gas-jet door, out onto the factory floor, with the zombies chasing them at a frightening speed for creatures that could only move at a lurch. As they passed one of themachines, Damo caught the hood of his tracksuit top on part of a conveyor belt. It lifted him off his feet, and dragged him up towards a hatch in the wall.
    ‘Help!’ he shouted, his would-be American accent lost in the panic. ‘Oh, Holy God!’
    The other two skidded to a halt, and turned just in time to see their friend disappear through the hatch. They stood stock-still for a moment, terrified by the sight of the zombies, but unable to leave Damo to his fate.
    ‘Not him as well!’ Gaz said through gritted teeth, realising how scared he was, and getting angry about it. ‘I can’t take my eyes off any of you for a minute . Right, come on!’
    He sprinted back, and Hayley was forced to follow as he climbed onto the