ZOM-B Baby by Darren Shan

think I could have done a hell of a lot about it.’
    ‘Do you know anything else about them?’Timothy asks. ‘Where they came from, what they are, what they might be planning?’
    ‘No.’ I chuckle sickly. ‘But I know a man who does. At least he thinks he does. You’re not the only guy working for God in London. And if this other prophet is to be believed, that clown is your direct opposite. If you were sent by God to paint the city as you find it, that nasty bugger was sent by the Devil to paint it black.’
    Timothy gawps at me, lost for words. I laugh at his expression and shake my head. ‘Come on, let’s go back to the kitchen. I’ll tell you all about it while you finish your food. Those creeps aren’t worth missing a meal over.’

FIFTEEN
    I tell Timothy about my weird encounters with Mr Dowling and his merry mutants, how we first met in the underground complex, and how he later spared my life in Trafalgar Square.
    ‘I don’t know why he didn’t kill me. Although, having said that, I haven’t seen him harm any zombies. Maybe he only kills living people.’
    ‘That’s a great comfort to me,’ Timothy sniffs.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ I grin. ‘You must have the luck of the Devil to have survived this long and, according to Dr Oystein, Mr Dowling is the Devil’s spawn, soyou’re both in the same boat. He’d probably look upon you as a long-lost cousin.’
    ‘Why do you keep talking about the Devil?’ Timothy frowns. ‘And who is this doctor you’ve referred to?’
    ‘I’m coming to it,’ I tut. ‘What’s the rush? We’ve got all night.’
    ‘You might have,’ Timothy says, ‘but I have to sleep, or had you forgotten?’
    ‘Do you know,’ I say softly, ‘I had. It’s been so long since I’ve slept that I’ve forgotten that it wasn’t always this way, that there are people out there who don’t have to sit up all night counting the circles on their fingers.’
    ‘Those are called whorls,’ Timothy informs me.
    ‘Whorl my arse,’ I snort, then tell Timothy what happened after the battle between the soldiers and Mr Dowling, finding the Angels in County Hall, training with them, Dr Oystein’s revelation about God’s plans for him.
    Timothy’s last piece of bread remains uneaten, the beans soaking into it until it’s a soggy mess. He’s tooengrossed in my story to focus on food. He hardly even sips his wine.
    ‘Incredible,’ he murmurs when I finish. ‘What a load to take upon oneself. To bear responsibility for the future of the world … He has my admiration whether his story is true or not.’
    ‘Of course it’s not true,’ I snap. ‘He’s a nutter like Sister Clare and …’
    I pause pointedly, waiting for Timothy to say wryly, ‘… and
me
?’ But he only stares at me blankly. He’s so sure of his calling that he finds it impossible to think that anyone might question him.
    ‘Anyway,’ I chuckle, not wanting to burst poor Timothy’s bubble, ‘I tried to overlook his God complex and fit in with the others, but in the end I couldn’t stomach it, so I left.’
    Timothy nods slowly, then stares into his glass of wine, swirling the liquid around. He purses his lips, looks at the bread and beans, then picks up the plate and takes it to the sink to clean.
    ‘Do you think Dr Oystein is a liar or a madman?’Timothy asks while washing the plate in a bucket of cold water.
    ‘Mad,’ I reply instantly. ‘He believes everything he says.’
    ‘You don’t think he is trying to con you?’
    ‘No.’
    Timothy stands the plate on a rack to dry, then turns and looks at me seriously.
    ‘In that case, maybe he’s right. Maybe he
is
a servant of God.’
    ‘Nah.’
    ‘How can you be so sure?’ Timothy challenges me.
    ‘Because …’ I scowl. ‘Look, I don’t want to piss you off, but it’s rubbish, isn’t it? God, the Devil, Heaven and Hell, reincarnation. I mean, I dunno, maybe there’s some truth to some of it, but nobody can be sure. There have been so many