Thirteen Roses Book Two: After: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Read Free Page B

and a chair and clothes strewn about the floor.  
    Speaking of which… she looked under the cover and saw her scrawny body covered only in a pair of greying pants and her one bra. Ed wore boxers and nothing else. She tracked back to when they left Canary Wharf.  
    Running through the fog felt like a dream. She remembered the sounds, moaning and groaning coming from all over the place, chasing them as they panted and ran until they couldn't breathe. They'd found a flat with an open back door and dashed inside just as the fog was chased away by the evening breeze. That was when they saw them.  
    Zombies. There were zombies everywhere, shambling and shuffling and lurching and slurping. She remembered turning the key in the lock and heading upstairs.  
    The house was locked. She sank down onto the bed, breathing easy. She wouldn't use the word safe, but they were better off in here, and if they hadn't been eaten yet, it probably wasn't going to happen any time soon.  
    She rolled onto her back and stretched. She'd read something once from the perspective of some homeless kid. It started off with this whole spiel about not being able to sleep on soft beds after you've been on the streets. She sniggered. What a crock. She could lie here forever.  
    Her stomach rumbled. She groaned and set her teeth. It rumbled again and with another groan, she slipped out of the bed and tiptoed to the wardrobe. The clothes inside were all way too big, size fourteen and sixteen, but she found some jeans and a belt and it didn't look too stupid. And they were new, or close to it. They felt rough and starchy but that was probably because her clothes were so worn.  
    She found a t-shirt and headed downstairs. She did a circuit of the kitchen, small though it was, opening and closing the fridge with a sort of dazed wonder. There was milk here, and cereals, and she didn't have to ask anyone or wait for someone to unlock the cupboards.  
    She demolished a bowl and went back for seconds. Then she found the bread and had toast. The kettle was boiling when Ed wandered in, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He'd found a female dressing gown. The belt was cinched just below his armpits, and it was a lovely shade of lavender.  
    Krystal giggled and he did a twirl.  
    'You look fabulous, darling, the zombies are gonna love you.'  
    His face fell and she regretted it straight away. 'But hey, don't worry about that, we've got cereals!'
    She raised a box triumphantly and he managed a wan smile. 'Are they still out there?'
    'Dunno, haven't looked.' The joy was gone from her voice also, and the dressing gown just looked silly now. She thumped the box on the table and walked through to the lounge. The curtains were mercifully closed and she peeked through the gap in the centre.  
    They were still there.  
    She watched, burping occasionally as the week's worth of food she'd just stuffed down kept repeating. They ambled as though they were going somewhere but had forgotten where. They were oddly peaceful. The moans were soft through the double glazing and there were no cars to break the silence. There wasn't much of anything really.  
    She waited for them to do something, but they seemed content just wandering. How had they been so scary yesterday?  
    'They're just walking around. Nothing to worry about.'
    Ed looked up, crunching on breakfast. He rushed his mouthful, swallowed and raised both eyebrows. 'I think there's plenty to worry about. Where are we? Are we the only ones left alive? Why did this happen? How did it happen? What about outside of London? Where are the army? W—'  
    'Easy, slow down, bloody hell. Can we just have breakfast in peace before we flip out, yeah?'
    He looked at her for another moment, then turned his attention back to his cereal.  
    Drinking tea from china mugs felt stranger than waking up in a normal bed. That was when it really dawned on her. 'Everyone's dead.'
    'We don't know that.'
    'No, we don't. But most everyone's dead,