Blue spat on the corpse. Cursed it. Looked around to check that none of the others were moving. And that was when he saw a dead mother’s mouth gape open, as if she wanted to say something. He froze and a chill spread through his guts. He watched, unable to look away, as her tongue started to poke out and her cheeks bulged. Her eyes widened. She was definitely about to speak, he knew it. He had a feeling in his bones that she was going to say something that would flip the world on its head again.

But her tongue, purple with brown patches eaten into it, just kept on coming, sticking further and further out of her mouth, until it fell out completely and a moment later a small rat followed it. It picked up the tongue and glared at Blue as if to say, ‘What are you looking at?’ then quickly darted away holding the tongue in its teeth.

Blue laughed.

Zombies. What a dork he’d been. Talking zombies. Yeah, right.

He gave a mighty sniff, gobbed up a wad of green phlegm that he aimed at the mother’s face, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and took a deep breath.

It was over. Big Mick was gone. Life went on. He had to saddle up, kick some arse. And God help anyone who got in his way. He knew his foul mood was not going to lift. He should be with Maxie right now. They should have been safely home at the museum yesterday. That was all he wanted. He missed her more than ever. Wanted with all his soul to get back to her, to hold on to her.

Maxie.

Chapter 74

74

‘This is why we should never have come here, Maxie.’ Maeve was pacing up and down anxiously, like an animal in a cage. She was in the sick-bay, where Maxie was sitting next to the unconscious body of Cameron. Cameron had a wad of cotton wool taped to his neck. He looked pale and feverish, his eyes twitching behind his closed lids. Every now and then he would moan and shift in the bed. And then he would become still again and Maxie would wipe his forehead and feel his pulse.

The only other occupant of the room was Robbie, who was still sleeping in there. He’d recovered from his exhaustion of the previous day and was looking healthy and cheerful. He’d offered to show Maxie his stitches. Said he looked like something out of a horror film. A monster crudely stitched together from spare body parts.

Maxie hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

‘We should have left London when we had the chance,’ said Maeve. ‘Not followed that liar Jester into the centre of town.’