Ninja Zombie Killers II: A Horror, Comedy, Rock and Roll Odyssey

By Michael Cairns

The world is saved. Time for a holiday, then...
If only things were that simple. Lilith’s gone into hiding, leaving her friend Edward to help out the Ninja Zombie Killers. That wouldn’t so bad, except a bunch of ugly green demons are terrorizing London, and certain people are taking a very unhealthy interest in Dave. When I say people, what I mean is almost certainly homicidal beings, at least one of which exists in another dimension and makes The Rock look like Noddy.
It’s the time of the three Kings. They all want Dave, but he’s not on any of their Christmas card lists. Actually, at least one of them doesn’t believe in Christmas, but you get the idea.
Between the three Kings, kittens and the classiest stationary Dave’s ever smelt, that holiday is a long way away....

The world may be a crazy place for them right now, but the Ninja Zombie Killers never forget how to rock. Click buy now to discover that the spirit of rock and roll never dies, even when you stick a very sharp knife into it...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Cairns
• Release date: Feb 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781909699465

Michael Cairns

Michael Cairns was born at a young age and could write even before he could play the drums, but that was long ago, in the glory days - when he actually had hair. He loves chocolate, pineapple, playing gigs and outwitting his young daughter (the scores are about level but she's getting smarter every day). Michael is currently working hard on writing, getting enough sleep and keeping his hair. The first is going well, the other two...not so much. His current novels include: > Young adult, science fiction adventure series, 'A Game of War' 1. Childhood dreams 2. The end of innocence 3. Playing God 4. Breathing in space 5. Escape 6. Gateway to earth > Urban fantasy super-hero series, 'The Planets' 1. The spirit room 2. The story of Erie 3. The long way home >Paranormal horror post apocalyptic zombie series, 'Thirteen Roses' 1. Before (Books 2-6 due for release in spring)

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II

By

Michael Cairns

Published by Cairns Publishing

Copyright © Michael Cairns (2015)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication

may be reproduced, distributed, or

transmitted in any form or by any means without the

prior written permission of the publisher.

1st Edition

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For Mum, cos of Cuba

I’m Protected

The sun streamed in through the open window but if he tried really hard, Dave could pretend he didn’t have to get up. He rolled onto his side and stared at Charlotte. She always looked so peaceful when she slept. It was a lie, of course. She rolled, wriggled, squirmed, snored and did her level best to stop him sleeping every night.

His heart ached as he let out a long breath, rolling onto his back and resting his arm across his forehead. He was gonna miss this. He wriggled his fingers. He’d spent a half hour playing yesterday and they ached today, but the blisters had finally become callouses and that had to be enough.

Because they had a wedding near Brighton on Saturday night.

He groaned and sat. He’d told the guys that after three months he’d be bored out of his skull, but it turned out lying in bed all day and strumming his guitar was even more fun than he remembered. After saving the world, he could happily spend the rest of his life on downtime. And that was all before he even thought about Charlotte.

Truth was, he didn’t want to go anywhere. But there was more than one truth and another was that every time he looked at his guitar, he got an aching no amount of crap daytime TV and reliving hopping through a portal to another dimension could relieve. It was time.

Dave rose, rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, and wandered into the bathroom. His trousers hung over the back of the chair and on his way to the shower he picked them up and went through the pockets. Charlotte had brought him a little leather pouch in which he kept his earplugs and a plentiful supply of plectrums. He pulled it out, opened it, and took out the ring. It was still beautiful.

He needed to play again. He needed to be on stage and remember how it felt before he decided what he needed. Once he had, then he’d ask her. One more gig and he’d ask her. He slipped the ring back in the pouch and turned on the shower.

He stopped outside Darren’s and helped him lug the drums into the van. They didn’t say much. They’d spent every Saturday in the pub so it wasn’t like they’d been away. Except in the way that really mattered, and the tension building between them wouldn’t be alleviated by having a chat.

Tom stood by the side of the road, bass in hand. He skipped from foot to foot, grinning, and Dave blinked a few times, waiting for the real Tom to appear. But it was definitely him. His scars still covered one side of his face and all of them, Tom included, had accepted that they weren’t going away. He scratched them as he climbed into the front of the van.

‘Morning.’

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’

‘Everyone good?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good. Can we stop for coffee?’

They sat around the yellow coated table, drinks in place, and Dave leant back. He let out a long breath and grinned like a Cheshire cat. The tension was no less, but at that moment, with Tom moments from burning his lips on his coffee, and Darren staring in wonder at a brand new Pomegranate and Elderflower Cooler, the world felt right.

Dave sipped his hot chocolate and glanced around. ‘What do you think, guys, any zombies at this wedding?’

Tom raised his eyebrows. He took a sip of his coffee, swore, and placed it back on the table. ‘Course. They’re bloody everywhere, don’t you watch the news?’

‘More than you’d believe. There’s been no mention of zombies.’

‘Of course not. Just a massive and unexplained rise in violent deaths and strange phenomenon. Jesus, yesterday they found a guy with his face torn off on a bench in Hyde Park. Hyde sodding Park in the middle of the bloody day.’

‘This is amazing. When did they start doing this one?’

They glanced at Darren as he gazed lovingly at the clear plastic cup before him. He gave them a shy smile. ‘Sorry, I don’t watch the news much. It’s all so negative, you know? Why can’t they do, like, a bad item and then a good item and swap between them?’

Tom patted him on the shoulder. ‘That, my friend, is an excellent question. But it doesn’t answer Dave’s riddle. Zombies tonight?’

Darren took a long suck through his straw, forehead creased, before nodding. ‘Yeah, of course. Everyone packing?’

Dave opened his jacket. The spell book had its own little pocket now and his knife hung in its familiar place beneath his left arm. Darren nodded and patted a whole bunch of places all over his body.

Tom shook his head. ‘Sodding bloodthirsty, you lot.’

‘Hey, you asked about the zombies.’

Tom sipped his coffee. Dave tried to decide whether the churning in his stomach was due to the impending gig or the almost certain murder of undead evil that would take place at the same time. It was, he finally decided, a bit of both.

The wedding was taking place in a huge stately home on top of a hill. The house was surrounded by beautifully manicured lawns and the sorts of trees you only saw in period dramas. That had been one of the downsides of the last few idle months. Charlotte had made him watch the entire Downton Abbey series and, while he had to admit it was moderately gripping in places, he could swear he’d felt his already-questionable masculinity draining from him.

This place reminded him of Downton, except the graveled front drive was filled with Jags and Mercedes and there was a woman in a ludicrously short skirt out the front having a fag. She eyed them up as they strolled in, then sneered. Dave favoured her with his best smile and she smiled back whilst trying to maintain her sneer. It made her look like she’d just necked the final tequila that stops anything making sense.

The hall was enormous and lined with massive paintings of the various owners of the place. They all had the same features and the likelihood of inbreeding seemed high. The acoustics were rubbish, but the groom was perfectly nice and there was food waiting for them straight after sound check which was almost unheard of.

The wedding party appeared and sat down to eat. The band sneaked out and discovered a set of stairs up to a balcony from which they could spy on the meal. They spent a pleasant couple of hours comparing the best daytime TV shows they’d been watching - Quincy came out on top - and trying to decide which of the guests were zombies, vampires or other Others.

The meal was nearly over when they spotted her. An elderly lady who they had, up to that point, mistaken for just a bit doddery, disappeared out of the room. On a hunch they followed her and came face to face as she emerged from a store cupboard licking the blood off her lips. One look at her face and he knew. Her skin was veiny, horribly pale, and the colour of fresh cement. Her eyes couldn’t have been more sunken in or red and how ‘Old Aunt Maisie’ had got away without being put down for this long, he had no idea.

He was about to pull his knife when some of the other guests emerged, making their loud and already drunken way to the toilets. He grunted and stood to one side as she lurched past. With a sinking heart he pushed open the door to the store cupboard. The darkness hid the body until Tom flicked on his phone torch and one of the young waiters was exposed, face down on the floor with a huge chunk taken out of his neck.

Tom hissed and shook his head. ‘Man, it’s like taking one bite right out the middle of the bloody cake. She could have gone for his leg and left him alive. If you’re only going to eat one mouthful, why the hell don’t you take it from somewhere less vital?’

‘Maybe the throat’s particularly tasty?’

‘What, like ‘Waitrose Finest human steaks’ or something?’

‘Exactly. The throat’s probably quite tender I suppose. No bones.’

‘No, just the spine.’

‘You know what I mean.’

Darren, ignoring the conversation thus far, broke in. ‘He’s not dead.’

‘Shit.’

Dave joined him at the body whilst Tom called the police. They got the waiter on his back and pressed a napkin to his neck. The blood was already slowing and the chunk looked far smaller from the front. The young man’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned.

‘What happened?’

‘You were attacked by a zombie.’

‘Oh. She was old. I thought zombies were, like, young?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Dave replied. ‘They’re all ages, all colours, all creeds. In a way, being a zombie is a wonderfully unifying experience. There’s no longer any borders, there’s no in-crowd. You’re just part of the great zombie family…’ He drifted off, sounding wistful.

The waiter was staring at him. Darren and Tom were staring at him.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, mate, just worried about you. A couple of months off and all of the sudden you’re talking about gourmet hippy zombies.’

‘Who are you guys?’ The waiter asked.

‘We’re the band.’

‘Just the band?’

‘Well, we kill zombies, too.’

Darren beamed. ‘We’re called Ninja Zombie Killers. He saved the world.’

He pointed his thumb at Dave and the guitarist blushed. ‘We all did.’

‘I didn’t.’ Tom raised his hand. ‘I was flat on my face having a nap at the exact moment the world was saved. Before that, I was kicking this guy’s arse.’

Darren was kind enough to not correct him. The waiter’s forehead was creased in confusion and Dave patted him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about it, mate. Here, hold this and press it against your neck.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere. But we’ve got music to play and zombies to kill.’

‘You mean the old bag that bit me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Can I come?’

Dave shook his head. ‘Sorry, mate, not this time. You’ll wanna leave this to the experts.’

He rose, staring into middle distance and doing his best not to thrust his chest out. With a final smile at the prone waiter, he left the room. The others followed him out. Tom snickered.

‘What?’

‘’Leave it to the experts?’’

‘Well, come on, we did save the world.’

Tom was still laughing when they strolled up on stage. The bride emerged and Tom did his thing, by the end of which she’d have pretty much done anything he wanted. Dave scrutinised the exchange, but came away no wiser. He was great with the email and occasional phone conversations, but the way Tom worked in a live situation was mind-blowing. She hadn’t even glanced at his scars, not once.

The first dance took place a few minutes later and the mind-numbing dirge of ‘Wonderful Tonight’ gave him plenty of time to spot the old granny. She’d set herself in one corner, faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips and showing the blood in the cracks. Dave poured all of the hate he felt for the horrendous song into his glare and was finally rewarded with a return stare.

Zombies didn’t see his aura. He wasn’t sure it was still strong since the whole ‘saving the world’ thing, but Lilith had assured him most of the Others could. Zombies, apparently, were neither smart nor sensitive enough.

Lilith was their go-to person for information on the Others. It was her who’d kicked this whole thing off and that she hadn’t been in touch since the world was saved had Dave worried. He’d expected a card at the least, some kind of well done and thanks sort of thing. But there’d been nothing and the longer she was gone, the more likely it was she was dead.

He shivered and skipped a few notes in the riff. As he’d done it exactly the same every time he’d played it, no one noticed. How long was the bloody song? It went on and on and didn’t change and despite Tom giving it everything he had, it still made Dave want to stick pins in his eyes.

The rest of the set was a breeze. It felt like sacrilege for that to be the first song they played together after three months, but the moment he kicked into Celebration, it all fell into place. They strolled off an hour later, huge grins in place.

Tom slapped them both on the back and beamed. ‘That was worth waiting for. Bloody marvelous. Drink anyone?’

They headed for the bar but Dave noticed the old lady slinking out the side door and they changed course. They caught her half way across the car park and tailed her to the darkest corner of it. There they found her, her car, and the three cages in the boot. She struggled with the lock until the boot swung open and the pitiful sounds of kittens mewing floated up to them.

‘Oh mate, you’re bloody kidding me.’

The sound of smacking lips was loud and Tom shook his head. ‘Fuck this, come on.’

They emerged from the darkness and the singer grabbed the old lady round the throat. He spun her away from the car and tossed her into the space between the others. The butterflies that had eased considerably since getting on stage, went completely as the knife slipped into his hand.

They both ached from playing and some of the scar tissue was horribly itchy, but it faded away as he drove the knife straight at the old cow’s eye. It was inches away when it struck something, sending a jolt of energy through the knife and up his arm. He staggered away, grabbing it as it went numb.

Darren swung at her neck with a curved knife. It was nearly there when the drummer spun away, grabbing his wrist and moaning. The zombie cackled. Dave blinked as she opened her mouth to reveal sharp yellowing teeth, then leapt at him. Tom was there and shoved her off balance. She flew past Dave and crashed face first to the floor.

They surrounded her and readied their weapons. Dave dropped to one knee as she tried to get up and stabbed at her head. At the same time Darren swung from behind, straight at the top of her skull.

The energy was stronger this time.

‘Shit.’ He was thrown off his feet as he lost all feeling in his arm and shoulder. As Darren struck her, a sound like a bell tolling rang around the car park and the drummer flew head over heels to bounce off a BMW.

The zombie scrambled to her feet and smiled at them. ‘I’m protected. Come on, have another go.’

She gave them the come-on with both hands which could have been funny had she not been cracking around the eyes and dressed in her best frock. Without warning, she raced towards Dave, scrambled past him, and dashed back to the wedding.

‘How the hell is she moving so fast?’

‘She’s protected.’

‘And what the hell does that mean?’ He thumped the gravel and shoved his knife back in its sheath. ‘She’s totally killed my buzz.’

‘Better than killing you.’

‘Thanks, Darren, that really helps. Seriously guys, what the hell just happened?’

The others pulled him to his feet and they limped back into the wedding. His grumps didn’t lift until Sex on Fire but after that the music took him away and the scary old bint staring at them from the back ceased to matter. They finished to rapturous applause and fell straight into packing down. Dave was coiling leads when the old lady was led over by a young relative.

‘Excuse me guys, sorry to bother you. My grandmother just wanted to say something.’

Dave tried to maintain a smile while the zombie waved away her ignorant and clearly very stupid grandson. She leant closer to Dave and he smelt the rotting meat clinging to her teeth.

‘You have no idea what’s coming, do you?’

‘Your death, you horrible old bitch.’

She burst out laughing, clapping him on the arm. The stupid kid returned to support her as the laughter turned to coughing. She shoved him away again and stood straight. ‘It’s never going to happen.’ Her voice was clearer, as though something else was speaking through her. ‘I have no intention of dying and certainly not at the hands of little shits like you. You save the world once and think you know how things work.’

She shook her head and wandered away. Dave ground his teeth together and snapped the lead he was holding taut. ‘Does anyone know how to make a bomb?’

Darren cleared his throat and glanced at the floor. ‘I may know the basics, you know, as part of my training.’

‘Ninjas make bombs now?’

‘Hey, you guys all think of ninjas like they only existed a thousand years ago. I didn’t even pick up a sword till I’d been there for like, two years.’

‘Oh. That’s rubbish.’

‘Do you want a bomb or not?’

Dave nodded, grinning apologetically. Dave pulled out the tool kit and his own ruck sack and sneaked into the back room. As Dave and Tom stuffed the last of the gear into the van, Darren emerged carrying something that looked like the PA had opened up its back panel and vomited over a toilet roll. Darren held it very carefully and waved Dave away when he went to take it.

‘Where’s it going?’

‘Under that old cow’s car.’

The car park was half empty, but her car was still there. They sneaked up and checked in the windows. Darren scrambled underneath and emerged a minute later to give them the thumbs up.

‘Is that is?’

‘Yeah. What else did you want?’

‘I dunno. Don’t you need to make beeping sounds or something?’

Darren gave him a look and started to back away. Then his face went white and he put his hands over his mouth. Tom and Dave both looked behind them before turning back.

‘What?’

‘The kittens.’

‘Oh, you’re fucking kidding me.’ Tom said.

Darren was already scrambling back under the car. He came back out and opened the boot then lifted the three cages onto the gravel. Then he scampered back underneath. Dave and Tom stared at the carry cages for a moment before the guitarist knelt beside them. He made kitten sounds until one approached his fingers and licked them through the tiny holes.

‘Aw, they’re really sweet, mate.’

‘Pfft.’

The singer strolled away, making it quite clear what he thought of the kittens. Darren emerged, made a strange beeping sound with his mouth, and gave him the thumbs up.

They’d just stowed the cages in the back of the van when the old lady emerged from the wedding. Her dumb-as-a-bag-of-hammers escort took her halfway across the car park before she dismissed him and stumbled the rest of the way on her own.

She clambered in and Dave held his breath. He realised he didn’t believe for a second the bomb was going to work. Then it went boom. The car shot straight up in the air, accompanied by a sound like a jet engine starting up. He clapped his hands over his ears and ducked as fire roared towards the van.

The flames made images flash before his eyes and sweat broke out on his forehead. He brought his hands back down and stared at them until he was convinced they weren’t on fire. The car came back to earth with a crash as the glass shattered and fell from the frames. Flames poured from the windows and the burning body of the zombie was clearly visible.

‘Yes! That’ll learn you, you old bitch.’

‘Jeez, Dave, respect for the dead.’

‘What do you mean? She’s been dead for years, I didn’t see any respect a minute ago.’

Tom tapped the dashboard. ‘We leaving then?’

Dave nodded, took one last look at the burning hulk and the people now rushing to stare, gasp and call the police, and started the van. They rolled through the silent estate and out onto the main road. The gleam of the street lights felt like coming home and he settled in as the others fell asleep.

What had she meant, she was protected? How was she protected? How had she known they’d saved the world? And what the hell were they going to do with the sodding kittens?

A Warning

‘What the fuck is this?’

Dave groaned, rolled over, and covered his head with a pillow. Charlotte’s voice came again, more insistent and even more annoying. ‘What the fuck is this?’

‘Urg.’

‘That’s not a response.’ She yanked the pillow off his head and got up close, and not in a good way. ‘What the hell is in our kitchen?’

He rolled onto his back and smeared his best smile across his face. ‘Kittens?’

‘Well duh. What are they doing there?’

‘We rescued them.’

‘You rescued them? Aren’t you supposed to kill zombies or something? I mean, saving the world to saving kittens is a bit of a step down, isn’t it?’

Dave grabbed the pillow from her and put it back over his head. Her sigh was loud enough to hear even through the shield, but she went away and let him sleep.

He came around some time later and crawled from the bed. He rubbed his face and staggered into the kitchen. Charlotte was sat on the floor leaning against one of the cupboards, two kittens on her lap and the other exploring the kitchen. She tried to scowl but it transformed into a huge smile.

‘Can we keep them?’

Dave laughed and nodded before flicking the kettle on.

‘Oh hey, letter came for you yesterday.’

She waved at the counter and he picked up what looked and smelt like the most expensive envelope he had ever seen in his life. It said David Stormcrest on the front in gold and running his thumb over it confirmed his suspicions. It was embossed. Someone had embossed his name on a ruddy envelope. That either meant he’d won a lot of money or someone had died. He swallowed.

‘Who delivered it?’

‘Don’t know. I found it on the mat.’

He wandered into the lounge, sat on the sofa, and tore open the glue. The paper he pulled out smelt of ancient buildings and universities. It was thick enough to sleep under and using it to wipe his arse would be a massive insult to the person who made it. It was the sort of paper that was made. Not manufactured, but tenderly created with love and care. He imagined some little guy somewhere pulping the trees himself and mixing them with lavender and shredded gold.

Dave

It has come to my attention that you have recently saved the world. I am impressed. I am also sorry. To achieve something so momentous at a time when it will soon become irrelevant will, I fear, be most frustrating for you.

I am writing to invite you to a small gathering of my most trusted and loved enemies. Although you have not long been a part of this select group, I felt your recent expulsion of one of my subjects from this plane of reality called for your inclusion.

The gathering will take place during the next full moon on the plain