the creature away, yanking Sorcha behind him as he did, and it hit the far wall. Too small, too light. It hadn’t been an adult human before it’d succumbed to the zombie virus. No. What picked itself up and shambled toward them, arms outstretched, was a child.
“Aw, lad, I looked for you. All of you.” Devastation spilled ice into Kayden’s veins.
The thing moaned—its lips stained red with his blood.
“Kayden,” Sorcha snapped. “What are you doing?”
“I owe him this.” Kayden couldn’t take his gaze from the approaching zombie child. “He and his friends. Each of them. I owe them a pound of flesh.”
“He’s already had that from you...and maybe more.” She strode forward.
“He deserves a clean death.” Too wrapped up in chains of guilt to stop her, Kayden stared at the approaching child. In his mind’s eye, Kayden saw a nonstop grin and heard unfettered laughter. But it was a memory, not what the boy had become, only what should have been.
The metallic tang of fresh blood filled the air. Kayden blinked and snarled, ripped his gaze off the child to see Sorcha, not a foot away it, tempting him with her own freshly cut forearm.
“Get away from him, lass!”
“It.” She stepped back once, took another, luring the zombie child away from him. “How is this one different? What power does it have over you?”
Another zombie came shuffling, and another. These were bigger and Kayden lost a precious moment to look at them.
“Damn!”
Apparently, so had Sorcha. She yanked her arm away from the zombie child and it fell to its knees as she backed away.
“You let it get a bite out of you?” He couldn’t believe it. The woman hadn’t had a scratch on her after dispatching dozens of the blighters.
She sheathed one sword and gripped the bitten arm. “Oh aye, now you say that, after you’ve been bitten yourself then gone daft. Never, ever kiss me on a field of battle again! Too much distraction for the both of us.”
Kayden’s retort died unspoken as the child raised its head. New light shone in its eyes and it opened its mouth in a wide grin and hissed at them both. It was up on its feet faster than any live child could move and charged Sorcha. She brought her blade across the tiny body at an angle, parting it at the shoulder and cutting deep into its chest cavity. As it was forced to its knees, it reached for her. She yanked her sword free and stumbled away.
Kayden saw her face twist, knew the move she would have taken and didn’t. Normally a bladesman would have set his boot to the victim and pushed them off the blade. His chested twisted with a sick sort of gratitude that Sorcha hadn’t done it to the child, zombie or no.
He rushed to the fallen child, pausing to glance in the direction of the oncoming danger, then up at Sorcha. She gave him a jerky nod and turned to deal with the newly arrived undead.
Grasping the child by the scruff as he would a kitten, he lifted its face to his. The eyes were covered in the thin, cloudy film of a corpse. Amazing they were intact, to be honest. Eyeballs softened after death—less fluid pressure—and the longer a zombie managed to walk around the more likely softer bits were to burst or putrefy. Maybe the spark of intelligence Kayden saw earlier was only imagination.
The zombie child jerked in his grasp, lunging for him. Stronger, faster, definitely more intelligent. It’d tried to fool him with a moment of passive waiting, Kayden was sure of it. He’d used the tactic himself in the past.
The boy had been bright as a button, he had.
“What’s become of you, laddie?” The worst thing imaginable. And Kayden had seen too many horrors to have to imagine worse. Oh the child had been the best of his group, the brightest, their leader. And Kayden had failed them all. The proof lay in his hands, seeing the boy as a mindless zombie...Ralph, his name had been.
Thin lips, dripping crimson with Sorcha’s blood and his, pulled back from yellowed
“Aw, lad, I looked for you. All of you.” Devastation spilled ice into Kayden’s veins.
The thing moaned—its lips stained red with his blood.
“Kayden,” Sorcha snapped. “What are you doing?”
“I owe him this.” Kayden couldn’t take his gaze from the approaching zombie child. “He and his friends. Each of them. I owe them a pound of flesh.”
“He’s already had that from you...and maybe more.” She strode forward.
“He deserves a clean death.” Too wrapped up in chains of guilt to stop her, Kayden stared at the approaching child. In his mind’s eye, Kayden saw a nonstop grin and heard unfettered laughter. But it was a memory, not what the boy had become, only what should have been.
The metallic tang of fresh blood filled the air. Kayden blinked and snarled, ripped his gaze off the child to see Sorcha, not a foot away it, tempting him with her own freshly cut forearm.
“Get away from him, lass!”
“It.” She stepped back once, took another, luring the zombie child away from him. “How is this one different? What power does it have over you?”
Another zombie came shuffling, and another. These were bigger and Kayden lost a precious moment to look at them.
“Damn!”
Apparently, so had Sorcha. She yanked her arm away from the zombie child and it fell to its knees as she backed away.
“You let it get a bite out of you?” He couldn’t believe it. The woman hadn’t had a scratch on her after dispatching dozens of the blighters.
She sheathed one sword and gripped the bitten arm. “Oh aye, now you say that, after you’ve been bitten yourself then gone daft. Never, ever kiss me on a field of battle again! Too much distraction for the both of us.”
Kayden’s retort died unspoken as the child raised its head. New light shone in its eyes and it opened its mouth in a wide grin and hissed at them both. It was up on its feet faster than any live child could move and charged Sorcha. She brought her blade across the tiny body at an angle, parting it at the shoulder and cutting deep into its chest cavity. As it was forced to its knees, it reached for her. She yanked her sword free and stumbled away.
Kayden saw her face twist, knew the move she would have taken and didn’t. Normally a bladesman would have set his boot to the victim and pushed them off the blade. His chested twisted with a sick sort of gratitude that Sorcha hadn’t done it to the child, zombie or no.
He rushed to the fallen child, pausing to glance in the direction of the oncoming danger, then up at Sorcha. She gave him a jerky nod and turned to deal with the newly arrived undead.
Grasping the child by the scruff as he would a kitten, he lifted its face to his. The eyes were covered in the thin, cloudy film of a corpse. Amazing they were intact, to be honest. Eyeballs softened after death—less fluid pressure—and the longer a zombie managed to walk around the more likely softer bits were to burst or putrefy. Maybe the spark of intelligence Kayden saw earlier was only imagination.
The zombie child jerked in his grasp, lunging for him. Stronger, faster, definitely more intelligent. It’d tried to fool him with a moment of passive waiting, Kayden was sure of it. He’d used the tactic himself in the past.
The boy had been bright as a button, he had.
“What’s become of you, laddie?” The worst thing imaginable. And Kayden had seen too many horrors to have to imagine worse. Oh the child had been the best of his group, the brightest, their leader. And Kayden had failed them all. The proof lay in his hands, seeing the boy as a mindless zombie...Ralph, his name had been.
Thin lips, dripping crimson with Sorcha’s blood and his, pulled back from yellowed
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