Thirteen Roses Book Three: Beyond: A Paranormal Zombie Saga Read Online Free Page B

correct?’
    Jackson nodded.  
    ‘So how do you explain the presence of this other gentleman? If his ramblings are anything to go by, he is not in complete control of his mind. Is he chosen too? Or maybe it is something biological, something inherent within him. Our scientists are keen to find out. I’d like you to join them. Something a little more forceful than their normal ministrations may be needed…’
    ‘You want me to torture him?’
    ‘Indeed.’
    Jackson grinned and stood. This was God’s will.  

David

    He woke to faces clad in gas masks, and fingers poking and prodding him. He tried to speak and they shoved a tube down his throat. He started to cough and a hand went over his nose and mouth. They were suffocating him. Sweat broke over his forehead and his coughing dried up. The hand was removed and he explored the tube with his tongue.  
    The poking stopped and they went away. He sunk gratefully back into sleep.  

    More poking, more prodding. Voices, loud and inconsiderate of his sleep. He went back quickly enough once they were gone.  

    It was silent when he woke again. The ceiling was white. The walls were white. The sheets that wrapped him and trapped him in the bed were white. He blinked and squeezed his eyes closed in the hope his headache would go. It didn’t. The tube was gone.  
    He tried to sit but the sheets held him firm. He tried to move his arms but straps wrapped tight around them. He twitched then spasmed, throwing his body this way and that. His legs were strapped as well. He snarled and wriggled and twisted and remained pretty much exactly where he was.
    He was the wind.  
    They had tied down the wind.  
    He couldn’t be tied down, he couldn’t.  
    He was the wind.  
    ‘I’M THE WIND!’
    His voice bounced dully off the walls, like they drank the sound and spat out the bits they didn’t want. He giggled, tongue sticking out between his chapped lips. Memories of the last two days swam past him, hundreds of tiny fish each bearing a picture on it. He saw zombies and the people he had traveled with. Where were they? Were they in other rooms, strapped down as he was?
    Another picture floated past, of Bayleigh and the children watching him go. They escaped. Did they escape? He hoped so. They were nice. They looked at him funny, but they were nice. Nicer than the big man who talked about God all the time. He was frightening. They thought David was mad, but Jackson was really insane. He believed in God the same way children did eternity and fairies. There was no doubt there.  
    The door opened and he twisted to watch them come in. One of the robed men, gas mask on, came first. Behind him came Jackson. David screamed and rolled away, staring at the wall. He was imagining it. He was dreaming. This wasn’t happening. Maybe they were bringing him in to strap him down as well. He blinked furiously. When he looked again, the big man would be gone.  
    ‘David. How you doing?’
    He whimpered and buried his face in the pillow. It was snatched away and his face hit the firm mattress. ‘I’m the wind, I’m the wind, I’m the wind, I—’
    ‘You’re David. You’re a bit of a fruit and we need to talk to you. These guys wanna make it easy. I’m not bothered. God’s will is that you help us. It’s gonna happen, doesn’t matter how.’
    Hands grabbed him and forced him onto his back. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling and found a spot where the paint had a swirl in it. He wouldn’t take his eyes from that, no matter what they did. More prodding. Why did they prod? What did they hope to achieve by prodding him?
    ‘David. My name is Andre. I am chief surgeon with the soldiers of God. I need to ask you some questions.’
    It almost felt like being at the doctors. Only the first question dispelled that notion pretty quick.
    ‘How did you feel when the plague came down?’
    His eyes wouldn’t move. They couldn’t make him speak. They couldn’t make him do anything. And any chance