ZOM-B 11 by Darren Shan

Author:Darren Shan [Shan, Darren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857077950
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

TWELVE

Dr Oystein Dowling.

THIRTEEN

I sit hunched over the folders, staring at the words, slowly flicking through the pages now. I feel sick, numb, betrayed.

There was only one person in this world that I believed in. One constant in my life that I clung to. No matter what else happened, I was sure I could put my faith in Dr Oystein, that he would always stand by those who had pledged themselves to his noble cause, that he – maybe he alone among all the adults I’d ever known – was truly good.

How could I have been so wrong? How could he have fooled so many of us for all this time?

I must be mistaken. The folders have to be crammed with lies. The doc can’t be the bad guy. He can’t. Nobody that caring and loving could be evil at his core. A vicious criminal mastermind couldn’t maintain a warm, considerate front, not for that long, not so artfully.

I need to ignore the files, the overwhelming evidence they present, the horrible documented neatness of it all. Look for flaws, discrepancies, forgeries. This is probably the work of Mr Dowling’s mutants, or Owl Man, or the Board, someone who wants to turn Dr Oystein’s supporters against him. I have to mull this over and proceed cautiously, not make any rash decisions until I’ve spoken with . . .

‘B?’

. . . Dr Oystein in the flesh.

I look up and he’s there. Standing before me, beaming, eyes filled with hope, love and concern.

‘I was so worried you wouldn’t be here,’ he cries, striding forward, extending his arms wide to hug me. ‘I was angry with the twins. One of them should have stayed with you. I had a sick feeling in my stomach all the way here. I was sure Mr Dowling’s men would find you and take you from us again. I think I broke some records as I was racing across from Bow. I didn’t know I could run so . . .’

He draws to a halt, taking in my wounds, my sliced-to-ribbons face, my ruined torso, the crown of nails hammered into my head, the endless array of cuts, gouges and scars, the bloodsoaked bandages. I’ve gone through all sorts of torments since the doc last saw me. He shakes his head, horrified.

‘Oh, B,’ he whispers. ‘What have they done to you?’

I stare at him blankly and say nothing.

‘Was this the work of Dan-Dan or Mr Dowling?’ Dr Oystein thunders. ‘I know that Daniel Wood is dead, so there is nothing I can do about that foul specimen, but if the clown did this to you, I will make him pay. Who hurt you, B?’

I stare at him blankly and say nothing.

Dr Oystein waits for me to respond. When I don’t, he licks his lips and glances at the zombies in the room with us, making sure they don’t pose a threat. Then he croaks, ‘The vial . . . Mr Dowling’s sample of Schlesinger-10 . . . is it too much to hope that you might have .

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