Read Thirteen Roses Book One: Before: An Apocalyptic Zombie Saga for Free Online

when she woke up. He normally was. On the bunk below his, last night's conquest lay curled in a ball. His hair was long, around his shoulders and covering his face, but his bare shoulder showed the marks from his fingers.  
    Krystal slipped from her bed and scampered across to him. She could feel the others watching her, but every one of them avoided her eyes when she crossed the room. She knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched away, scurrying back in his bunk, and she had a sudden vision of what she must have looked like last night.  
    'I'm sorry.'
    Why was she sorry? Because she didn't do more? Because she'd leave this morning and not say anything to anyone? Or just because he'd been hurt far worse than she had and there was no one else who'd say sorry? Didn't matter. It didn't mean anything anyway.  
    A solitary eye peered at her from beneath his hair. His black locks shone beneath the dirty light coming in through the high windows. The shine was grease.  
    'Why are you sorry?'
    Ah crap. 'Dunno. Just am, 'spose.'
    A thin sound that sat midway between crying and laughing emerged from him and he scooted his legs out and onto the floor. He sat up and she stared as his mouth went through strange contortions that ended with it curled down at the edges and shaking.  
    He was trying so hard not to cry and she held her breath. It was a relief when he let himself go and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He buried his filthy hair into her arm pit and howled. She stared at the others in the room, who in turn stared back, everyone asking her the same question.  
    What now?
    That was easy. Extricate herself as quick as damned well possible and get away from here. She wanted to ask the kid where he'd gone, but he was as likely to know as any of them. There were only four hostels in this part of London and he could turn up at any one of them, any night of the week.
    The weather had turned at the weekend, so maybe she should take it outside again. Krystal always preferred sleeping outside, but there were late frosts and she valued her toes too much. A punch in the stomach wasn't much to take. Not compared to what the boy sobbing in her armpit had been through. But the guy only went for boys and there wasn't anyone else around to scare her off.  
    His name was Dawid. He didn't speak English, or not as much as most of the others. But he was persuasive and had the same kind of language as the police. He could convince you your world was tiny. Wasn't difficult with most of them. Once you knew your world was a few streets and a few rooms like this and no one cared, you'd do whatever he wanted if it meant he'd leave you alone.  
    Krystal had been here long enough to know that wasn't true. She vaguely remembered from when she'd gone to school that it was called a stay of execution. They were all on death row, every bloody last one of them. And Dawid was the vindictive guard with the night stick and the technique that left no bruises.  
    The sobs died down and she fidgeted. She freed herself, patted his shoulder, and slunk out the room. She checked her locker on the way past, relieved to find it un-screwed with, and headed for the bathroom. She needed a shower today, however much she didn't want to have one.  
    The bathroom was empty and she dived in and showered as fast as humanly possible. By some stroke of luck, the room stayed empty. Maybe she'd earned it with her gut punch yesterday. Her belly was sore but he hadn't done anything permanent. She weed, watching the dirty yellow run away with the shower water. It didn't hurt, so that was a bonus.  
    She peered in the mirror. She needed a haircut. She kept it short, bobbed around her ears. Quicker to wash and less likely to attract the men. Boys, whatever. She looked a bit like a boy and they left her alone. Not that she was likely to attract them anyway. She could feel her ribs through her t-shirt and her hip bones against her jeans. Her face was the same,