Undead at Heart by Calum Kerr Read Free Book Online Page B

keep
her head and, Stan hoped, that would help him to hold onto his.
    Brains
and beauty. This
could be Stan’s chance for a real catch. If following her and doing what she
said was the way to charm her, then he was more than willing to do that.
    They carried on
through the woods, making decent time. He didn't know where she was leading
them, but it seemed that she just wanted to put as much distance as possible
between them and the field of fire. It was not so much a case of where they
were going to. The important word was ‘away’.
    A rattling thump shook
the ground and caused Stan to stumble. Dave caught his arm and kept him from
falling on his face and then the two of them turned to each side, helping up
those who hadn’t been so lucky. Small pieces of burning metal and other debris
started to rain through the canopy. Some dropped onto the leafy ground,
starting smouldering fires. One piece landed on Stan’s shoulder, burning
straight through to his skin. He let out a yelp and brushed at it, his hand
singeing in the same movement and coming away with black char marks and blood
from his shoulder.
    Other people cried out
as smaller and larger pieces struck them, and the group broke into a ragged
run, trying to outdistance this burning rain.
    An older woman
stumbled in front of Stan and he simply caught her round the waist like a rugby
receiver as he headed past, keeping her on her feet and helping her on her way,
thanking the years of ploughing his way up the sport’s field on a Sunday
morning. He was aware of Dave on his other side, the two of them forming a team
of assistance as they made their way through the jostling, fearful crowd.
    Finally the downpour
ceased and they slowed again as they realised the bombardment had stopped.
People turned to one another, stranger to stranger and inspected burns and
wounds. It seemed that they had escaped largely unscathed, with most injuries
consisting of small burns which didn’t seem too bad. One or two people held
handkerchiefs or pieces of torn clothing over larger injuries, but everyone
seemed to be able to carry on.
    It was only at this
point that Stan noticed that their group contained no children apart from the
girl that Nicola had been carrying. He guessed it was partly because it was the
middle of a school day, but maybe they’d also not made it away from the road –
either through a misguided belief that it was safer to stay, or because with
children to slow them down they hadn’t made it to their impromptu gathering in
the woods. Whatever it was, Stan wasn’t going to worry about children who
weren’t even there, he just thought it was
interesting.
    He wondered what sort
of airburst had caused the rain of burning metal and wondered if one of the
jets they’d seen previously had exploded for some reason. There was no way of
knowing, unless he went back to search for larger debris; something he was
definitely not going to do.  He was just curious. With each new
event, each new catastrophe, he grew more and more confused about just what was
going on.
    As though his thoughts
about children had cast a spell, he noticed that Nicola’s girl was awake and
now standing next to her. The girl was unhurt by the falling fire, but her mother
was cradling her upper arm. She had torn a strip off the bottom of her t-shirt
and was attempting to wrap and tie it with one hand. Stan stepped over and took
the strip from her, tying it over a shallow burn which was weeping ever so
slightly.
    He smiled at her as
she winced. “Don’t worry, love, we’ll find somewhere soon where you can wash
that and put some cream on it.”
    She returned a weak
smile. “Well, I hope so. After all, somehow I seem to have become the leader of
this gang and I guess I’m responsible if we don’t.” Stan thought that the smile
lit up her face, but he could see signs of stress and pressure which were
undoubtedly not new, but he imagined that today wasn’t helping matters much.
    “Don’t worry.