Gobbelino London & a Contagion of Zombies by Kim M. Watt

Author:Kim M. Watt
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838044701
Publisher: Kim M. Watt

14

A SMALL PROBLEM WITH BODY PARTS

The wind of snatching hands passed behind me as I crashed into the wall, ricocheted off, touched down among the bloodstained bedding just long enough to launch myself forward again, and hit the rough floor already running. I almost went nose first into the shutter, and recovered just in time to spin myself around, put my tail against it, and yowl, “Callum! We got a live one!”

“Kind of guessed that!” he yelled back, snatching the crate up and using it like a lion-tamer’s chair to fend off the very much intact zombie that was trying to extricate itself from the blankets. It had them so firmly tangled around its legs that it was mostly towing itself after Callum with its arms. The candles had tumbled off the crate and winked out on the floor, which was better than a fire but not great for Callum and his human vision.

“What’s going on?” Big Ted yelled from outside.

“Shut up!” I shouted back. “Callum, from the left!” I winced as he turned in the wrong direction. “My left!”

He spun back just in time to crack the crate across the zombie’s arms as it reached for him. “Jesus, Gobs—”

“Your right! Again! Quick!”

He lashed out with the crate, and this time caught the zombie’s head, sending it sprawling.

“It’s down! Run! Run!”

“Guys?” Big Ted called. “Should I come in?”

Callum staggered toward me, still clutching the crate, and stepped in some unidentified body part. His foot shot out from under him and he yelped, landing hard on his bum with his good leg half-folded underneath him.

“Swing!” I bellowed, and he swung the crate wildly. It slammed into the zombie’s belly as it finally hauled itself clear of the bedding and pounced, moan-roaring all the way. Callum grunted with the impact, dropping to his back and shoving hard against the zombie’s weight, using its own momentum to carry it over him. It tumbled across the stall with an indignant moan, fetching up against the shutters and setting them shaking violently. Callum scrambled to his feet, waving the crate threateningly.

“Where is it?”

“Guys?” Big Ted asked, sounding slightly panicked.

“Wait,” I snarled. “Callum, ahead and left!”

“My left or yours?”

“Yours! No, mine!”

“Goddammit—” Callum ducked, raising the crate to catch the zombie in the belly again and pivoting neatly on his heels as he pushed the creature away, sending it plunging back into the bedding, where it moaned and thrashed and sent loose body parts scattering across the stall floor as it tried to right itself.

“Nice!” I called. “Now move! Big Ted, open up! Now!”

Callum bolted the few strides across the stall as Big Ted ripped the shutters up. Callum landed on his knees so hard I hissed in sympathy, then threw himself to his belly and rolled out into the market. I shot through the gap as the zombie moaned and scampered toward us, body parts still spilling from the blankets.

Big Ted slammed the shutter back down just before zombie crashed into it, the impact so hard that the metal bowed outward, and all three of us yelped.

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