Chapter 4 #2
“I did. Such a shame she didn’t make it. I couldn’t save her, though. She’d been ripped…” He hesitated. “You can imagine.”
“I can. I hope she didn’t suffer too much.”
“I… I helped her with that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a mercy.” He closed his eyes for a moment, possibly recalling the horrible memory.
“Are you okay?”
“Where did you find your note?” he asked, eyes open again.
“A vampire in the Brixton tube station.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Trev pocketed the napkin. “Wanna get over there together?”
“Definitely.” I offered him my best smile, scratching the back of my itchy head.
If these possible new friends possessed shampoo as well as hot water, I may marry every single one of them.
“I’ve been scoping out the park from the top window of this place,” Trev said, pointing at the third floor of the shop. “That’s when I spotted you.”
“Too many zombies on the park side.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a route to the tracks in mind. Want to come see?”
Yes!
“Sure. Thank you.”
“Follow me.”
The troll took me into the shop’s storeroom, and I noticed the shelves were all empty. A door on my left led to a stairwell, the carpet threadbare on its route to the second floor.
The second and third floors seemed to be the residence for the former owners, now a mess of peeling wallpaper, dust, and hefty cobwebs. I spotted a kitchen, a living room, and two bedrooms as we made our way to the third floor.
A hole in the ceiling let in the sunlight, highlighting the pigeon bones littering the bare floorboards.
“Pigeon massacre,” I muttered.
“Crazy, right?” He moved to a window overlooking Old Kent Road. “Take a look.” He barely fit in this room, even with his knees bent. Six-eight in height maybe? Possibly seven feet? A tower compared to my five-nine.
On the other side of the road stood a white house with a high concentration of zombies gathered there, huddling around the black fence in stasis. A body hung out a broken window, arms dangling and birds pecking at the open wound in its back.
From my observations, zombies didn’t bother too much with birds. A nice juicy deer or a horse, larger dogs, yes. But never birds.
The railway bridge ran across the street to my left, passing the house and those football pitches I’d seen earlier. The main entrance to the pitches and the park sat to the right of the house, more zombies hovering nearby.
It was impossible to tell the difference between slowies and speedies unless they were moving.
“Can we definitely get onto the tracks from here?” I asked.
Trev folded his big arms, muscles straining under the fabric of his jacket. He’d be a great addition to this community of the lost. Those thighs could pop watermelons. You could never have too many trolls around.
“There’s two buildings between here and the tracks,” he said. “The last building has a lower, flat roof. We can climb up and jump to the tracks from there, find a way down into the park, or try signaling for attention. What do you think?”
I swallowed a heavy lump of fear. The tracks were up high, sure, but also exposed.
Were they such a good idea?
“We’ll get a good look at the park from up there,” he added.
“Our best option,” I answered.
“Yeah. Probably should’ve just found an entrance point away from here and walked the tracks in the first place, right?”
“That’s hindsight for you.”
He smiled right back, revealing a broken canine.
“So, this is how we’ll do this. The buildings are connected through this door.
” He pointed to the door in question. “We get to the flat roofed building, then make our victory leap.” He unfolded his arms, rubbing at the back of his tree-trunk neck. “Sound good?”
“Victory leap has a nice ring to it.”
“Damn right, mate.”
I liked his sunny aura. “When do you want to do this?”
“Now? Better to try being seen in the light, eh?”
“Of course. Lead the way.”
“You need to piss or shit or a sip of water? There’s a bog through there.”
I can smell it. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Want this over with?”
“Absolutely.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Stick with me, Orion. I’ll see ya good.”
I stumbled back from the pat, his attempt at gentleness the force of a regular shove.
“Shit. Sorry. You okay?”
“My backside isn’t on the floor, so yes.”
Imagine receiving a punch from an angry Trev. Ouch. Goodbye consciousness and hello possible internal organ damage.
“This is gonna be awesome, you’ll see.”
Trev’s positivity stretched my lips. “I like the sound of that.”
Did you hear that, Wendy? Things are getting better.
“One more time,” the troll said. “You sure you’re ready? There’s nothing you want to do?”
“Only get on the tracks.”
A quiet rumble of a laugh. “Then follow me, mate.”
I knew in that moment I really wanted Trev to be my friend. He seemed like a fun, safe, and good man. If this community turned out to be nothing, I hoped for the possibility of us staying together.
We reached the third building, taking a stairwell down one level. The pigeon skeletons were everywhere. Two mostly empty, shredded bags of poisonous pellets sat in a corner. There were some pellets on the ground, resembling bird food.
That answered the pigeon question.
Poor things.
A chain swung from a hatch above my head, a ladder fixed to the mold-speckled wall beneath it.
“I’ll go first,” Trev said, taking hold of a rung.
The wooden ladder creaked under his weight, but he made it to the top, slowly pushing the hatch open. Cool morning air rushed in with the sunlight, a disturbed spider scurrying off the ladder.
Trev beckoned me to climb from where he crouched by the opening.
I followed, heart pounding in my ears, the ladder creaking for me, too.
The troll helped me up once I reached grabbing distance, taking my arm and expertly depositing me beside him.
“All good?” he asked.
“All good.”
“You fae really are super light.”
“Super light but robust,” I countered.
“Good to know.”
I approached the edge of the roof, looking down at an alley leading to an industrial area further inland, the arches below the railway tracks all sealed up. Between here and the industrial area, an unfished apartment building jutted up at the sky, its top half all exposed metal beams.
What an eyesore in a city full of ruins and eyesores.
To my right, a metal mesh gate with barbed wire on the top blocked off the alley from Old Kent Road. There were bodies close to the gate. Half rotted, maggots crawling over them, piles of trash bags adding to the stench of decay.
Disgusting.
No more looking down there.
The drop was high enough to break an ankle if I landed wrong, the gap between us and the tracks wide enough for me to mess up a jump.
“I’ll toss you,” Trev said.
“Sorry?”
“Toss you over there, mate. If you don’t fancy doing the run up. Problem is, I might toss you too hard.”
I resisted an immature giggle. “I think I can make the run up.”
“Glad you said that.” He moved to the furthest point of the roof and charged, leaping through the air, landing heavily in a crouch.
I positioned myself, eyes on him, counting myself down.
Three.
Two.
One.
Launch!
“Fuck!” Trev bellowed.
A speedie launched itself to its feet, hissing, lunging at him. He roared as the zombie grabbed him, sinking its teeth into his arm.
I lost my footing at the last moment, unable to slow down, tumbling off the roof with a yelp.