Read Online The Secret Dead (London Bones Book 1) by SW Fairbrother - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: SW Fairbrother
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of the corpses. I’m used to the stink of death, but I’ll never like it. I lifted my face to the sky, grateful for the fresh air.
The water soaked into my skin and made the harpy scratch ache. Are there bacteria in harpy claws? They didn’t look too clean. On the other hand, that might imply bacteria went to heaven. Or hell. And which would spending eternity stuck under the claws of a harpy be? I rubbed my eyes. It was a thought better suited to the tail end of a bottle of wine.
I followed Little to a white Vauxhall. He pressed the key ring, and it beeped twice as it unlocked. I climbed in and was assaulted by the chemical reek of a lemon-scented car freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. The sickly stench permeated even the smell of sick in my nose, and the nausea rose again. I pushed the button to roll the window down.
Little started the car, turned the heating up to the max, then pressed the button on the driver’s side to roll my window back up. I didn’t have the energy to argue. I’ve never met a cat who liked the cold.
The constable at the end of the road moved the cordon so we could get through. Away from the disapproving frown of Haddad, Little perked up a little. ‘Hey, if you can go to the underworld, can you bring people back? That would be cool.’
‘No.’ I tried to put a sense of finality into the word, but the tone flew over Little’s head.
‘Have you tried?’
‘Dead is dead.’
‘Not for you.’
‘The lines of the dead aren’t meant to be crossed. I’m different. Anyone else, and you risk breaking something you really don’t want to break.’ I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes, but the cat still didn’t get the hint.
‘You know I’ve never seen Slender that angry. Still... flying zombie. They’re going to have to get some really big nets. Or’—he grinned, showing all his teeth—’they could recruit pigeon shifters to peck him down.’
I smiled, despite myself. ‘Now you’re just being silly. The pigeons would never collaborate with the Met.’
He laughed, then fell silent.
The streets should have been deserted, but Londoners have never been good at obeying rules. Little stopped at a pedestrian crossing for a couple of students breaking the lockdown. They hadn’t been the first we’d seen, but he raised a single finger from the steering wheel and pointed it at them.
‘Them. They’re going to be first to go if the zompocalypse starts. Hell, they’re young and fit. They’ll get away after the first bite and end up being the ones who fuel it. Idiots.’
We drove the rest of the way in silence. The last time I’d seen this was the last time a zombie got loose—a fourteen-year-old girl who’d been sheltered by her family. That had been under Slender’s predecessor, and the reason there’d been a job opening shortly after. It hadn’t been a bad time for me at least. I’d stayed in, doors locked and curtains drawn, and had a box-set marathon. Of course, the clean-up afterwards had been less fun.
She’d infected another five people within the week, and all the little zombie dominoes had tumbled until the NRTs had to dump fifty wriggling corpses into the pit. Once infection starts, it spreads quickly.
I couldn’t rid my mind of the image of all those neatly wrapped freezer parcels, and my thoughts kept shifting back to the dead girl on the bicycle. Her face had dimmed in my mind, but I could still feel the her of her—the slightly sweaty scent, her bulk, and the distracted way she’d brushed my question off. She had died violently, and recently. Without evidence to the contrary, the human meat in the freezer had to be her.
The bodies in the cars were a whole other problem. There was no reason they had anything to do with Malcolm or his family, but I wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. And soul magic? The thought turned my stomach.
Malcolm was out there somewhere and getting hungrier. Unless he ate soon, he would lose it
The water soaked into my skin and made the harpy scratch ache. Are there bacteria in harpy claws? They didn’t look too clean. On the other hand, that might imply bacteria went to heaven. Or hell. And which would spending eternity stuck under the claws of a harpy be? I rubbed my eyes. It was a thought better suited to the tail end of a bottle of wine.
I followed Little to a white Vauxhall. He pressed the key ring, and it beeped twice as it unlocked. I climbed in and was assaulted by the chemical reek of a lemon-scented car freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. The sickly stench permeated even the smell of sick in my nose, and the nausea rose again. I pushed the button to roll the window down.
Little started the car, turned the heating up to the max, then pressed the button on the driver’s side to roll my window back up. I didn’t have the energy to argue. I’ve never met a cat who liked the cold.
The constable at the end of the road moved the cordon so we could get through. Away from the disapproving frown of Haddad, Little perked up a little. ‘Hey, if you can go to the underworld, can you bring people back? That would be cool.’
‘No.’ I tried to put a sense of finality into the word, but the tone flew over Little’s head.
‘Have you tried?’
‘Dead is dead.’
‘Not for you.’
‘The lines of the dead aren’t meant to be crossed. I’m different. Anyone else, and you risk breaking something you really don’t want to break.’ I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes, but the cat still didn’t get the hint.
‘You know I’ve never seen Slender that angry. Still... flying zombie. They’re going to have to get some really big nets. Or’—he grinned, showing all his teeth—’they could recruit pigeon shifters to peck him down.’
I smiled, despite myself. ‘Now you’re just being silly. The pigeons would never collaborate with the Met.’
He laughed, then fell silent.
The streets should have been deserted, but Londoners have never been good at obeying rules. Little stopped at a pedestrian crossing for a couple of students breaking the lockdown. They hadn’t been the first we’d seen, but he raised a single finger from the steering wheel and pointed it at them.
‘Them. They’re going to be first to go if the zompocalypse starts. Hell, they’re young and fit. They’ll get away after the first bite and end up being the ones who fuel it. Idiots.’
We drove the rest of the way in silence. The last time I’d seen this was the last time a zombie got loose—a fourteen-year-old girl who’d been sheltered by her family. That had been under Slender’s predecessor, and the reason there’d been a job opening shortly after. It hadn’t been a bad time for me at least. I’d stayed in, doors locked and curtains drawn, and had a box-set marathon. Of course, the clean-up afterwards had been less fun.
She’d infected another five people within the week, and all the little zombie dominoes had tumbled until the NRTs had to dump fifty wriggling corpses into the pit. Once infection starts, it spreads quickly.
I couldn’t rid my mind of the image of all those neatly wrapped freezer parcels, and my thoughts kept shifting back to the dead girl on the bicycle. Her face had dimmed in my mind, but I could still feel the her of her—the slightly sweaty scent, her bulk, and the distracted way she’d brushed my question off. She had died violently, and recently. Without evidence to the contrary, the human meat in the freezer had to be her.
The bodies in the cars were a whole other problem. There was no reason they had anything to do with Malcolm or his family, but I wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. And soul magic? The thought turned my stomach.
Malcolm was out there somewhere and getting hungrier. Unless he ate soon, he would lose it
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