Free Zom-B City by Darren Shan Page A

Clare basks in their adulation, then trains her gaze on me again.
    ‘Are you a vile imp sent to guide us?’ she asks haughtily.
    ‘No,’ I growl, resisting the urge to punch her on the nose. ‘I saw you getting out of the boat and was curious. I wanted to warn you as well. It’s dangerous here. The zombies –’
    ‘We know all about them,’ she interrupts. ‘They are why we have come, to test our faith against theirs.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’ I frown. ‘Zombies don’t have any faith. They’re brainless.’
    ‘They are instruments of the dark forces of the universe,’ she corrects me. ‘By walking without fear among them, we will challenge those who work through their pitiful forms and reclaim this ground that they would steal from us. If you mean neither to help nor hinder us, then step aside or face the wrath of the Shnax.’
    The woman waves a hand at me and glides past imperiously. The others follow, nodding and mumbling. A few smirk at me. One of the men touches the symbol on his forehead, then points at me as if to say, ‘I’ve got my eye on you!’
    I don’t care much for Sister Clare or her sneering tone, but these weirdos have caught my attention. I can’t resist following, to find out what they’re up to. So, ignoring the fact that they don’t care for my company, I trail after them as they cross the bridge and wander into the zombie-infested bowels of the city.

SEVENTEEN
    The fearless members of the Order of the Shnax march to St Paul’s and stop outside, chanting happily, beaming at one another. The sun is shining brightly and no zombies are on the streets. It’s as if we have the city to ourselves.
    Sister Clare leads the group on a full circuit of the cathedral, then heads east. I try to wring more information out of her as they proceed.
    ‘You know you’re all going to be killed.’
    She raises an eyebrow. ‘You might wish for our deaths, vulgar beast of the otherworld, but you will be disappointed. We have the power of the Shnax on our side. No harm will befall us.’
    ‘What are the Shnax?’ I press. ‘Some sort of religious group?’
    ‘We are of the true religion,’ Sister Clare tells me and points a finger at the sky. ‘The religion of the stars.’
    ‘The stars . . .’ the others echo dreamily, all pointing upwards.
    ‘Celestial beings have always gazed down on us,’ Sister Clare continues. ‘Since the dawn of mankind they have encouraged us, rewarded us when we are deserving, punished us when we have sinned. They are the Shnax.’
    ‘Aliens?’ I laugh. ‘Pull the other one!’
    She smiles condescendingly. ‘Like so many others, you can only mock. That is why you were turned into a pitiful mockery of the human form while we were spared. This world was disgusting, overcrowded with vain, petty humans. It needed clearing so that a fresh, clean civilisation could grow out of the ashes of the old.
    ‘The Shnax would never have done this to us, since they are creatures of love, but there are other forces at work in the universe, agents of destruction. The Shnax protected us from them in the past, but this time, for our own good, they let their foes wreak havoc. But they shielded the believers and kept us safe, so that we can guide the others who survived.’
    I gawp at Sister Clare and the lunatics who follow her.
    ‘You think that you know better than us,’ Sister Clare smirks. ‘I see it in your eyes, as lifeless as they are.’
    ‘Come on,’ I chuckle uneasily. ‘You can’t really believe that aliens did this or that they’re guarding you.’
    ‘If not the Shnax, then who?’ she asks.
    ‘The government . . . scientists . . . terrorists . . . take your pick.’
    She shakes her head. ‘This apocalypse was not the work of humans. No mortal could have subjected the world to terrors on such a diabolic scale. Mankind has been culled. The weak have been cut down and set against the strong. It is the result of a godly hand, but there are no gods