ZOM-B 11 by Darren Shan Page B

keeps going in the
direction that I want, she’ll be a good addition to the team.
    We inch along, an unlikely partnership. I cover as many angles as I can, looking behind, left, right, my head snapping around like an agitated bird’s.
    A shadow passes overhead. I look up immediately but there’s nothing there. Lots of small clouds are scattered across the sky. I guess the shadow must have been one of those, though it
seemed to scud by too swiftly for a cloud.
    The old woman pauses to pick through some overturned bins in the middle of the road. I don’t know what she expects to find. I’m annoyed by the delay, and think about cutting her
loose and going my own way again. I keep glancing up, unsettled, not convinced that the shadow was a cloud, but telling myself that I’m just being paranoid. This is the reason I didn’t want to hole up. When your brain gets spooked, you start to see trouble everywhere.
    Eventually the zombie abandons the bins and pads onwards. She rounds a corner. I shuffle after her, but before I can turn into the new road, someone leaps from the roof of the building and lands
in front of me. I’m still holding the spoons from the coffee shop. I raise them defensively . . . then lower them when the guy straightens up and faces me.
    He’s a good-looking teenage boy with dark hair and fashionable, trendy clothes. He’s usually a cheerful sort, but his face is clouded with anger now.
    ‘You are in so much trouble,’ Carl Clay growls.
    ‘Tell me about it,’ I sniff. ‘Are the others with you?’
    ‘Of course.’ He whistles, and Shane and Ashtat step out of a hairdresser’s. The ginger Shane is in his customary tracksuit, tacky gold chains dangling from his neck. Ashtat is
wearing a blue robe and a golden headscarf.

    I thought my injuries would provoke a reaction, but Dr Oystein must have told them about my sorry state because they barely spare my horror show of a body a second glance. They both look as pissed off as Carl, too angry to bother with sympathy or concern.
    ‘It’s like a class reunion,’ I chuckle as my ex-roommates from County Hall gather in front of me. ‘A pity Jakob is missing. That would have made a full
set.’
    ‘Rage too,’ Shane says.
    ‘Nah,’ I grunt. ‘He was never one of us. Not really.’
    The Angels eyeball me and I return their gaze silently.
    ‘You must be out of your mind,’ Carl finally hisses. ‘Assaulting the doc? Taking off like a bat out of hell?’
    I shrug. ‘What did he tell you?’
    ‘That you were upset,’ Ashtat says icily. ‘He said you were not yourself, that it was imperative we find you, but we should not hurt you unless we had absolutely no other
option. We were not to approach you, but to send for him, so that he could confront you personally.’
    ‘Sly old Dr Oystein,’ I sneer. ‘He wanted me all to himself. No surprise there.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’ Carl frowns.
    I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Have you sent word to him?’
    ‘No,’ Ashtat says. ‘We want you to come freely. We do not know why you struck Dr Oystein, but if you surrender willingly, we are sure this can be worked out.’
    ‘We were over the moon when we found out you were alive,’ Shane says. ‘We don’t want to lose you now.’
    ‘We’re sure it’s not your fault,’ Carl snorts. ‘Mr Dowling must have messed with your mind when he was slicing up your body. The doc will be able to help you get
your head back in order. He’ll clear up everything if you give him a chance.’
    ‘You don’t have a clue,’ I huff. ‘I’ve been through hell since you last saw me, but that had nothing to do with why I attacked Dr Oystein. He’s not what he
seems. He’s been playing us for fools. He –’
    ‘It’s all right,’ Carl says soothingly. ‘He told us you’d say stuff like this. The clown has turned you against us, so you think we’re the enemy. That’s
OK. The doc will set your brain straight again. But you have to