'Easy,' said Gregor. 'I think you had quite a nasty turn.' He was helping Jared into a chair at what was the Victoria and Albert reception desk and was now Gregor's workshop and general meeting place for the team.
Jared liked teams. The army was all about team building. He was happy in a team. Gregor, Hook and Stella. What about Jared?
'I'll not tell Hook that you knocked his runner beans over. He'll be upset about that. We'll say the wind got them,' said Gregor.
'Yeah,' said Jared. His voice was distant, like it came from his mouth and fell to the floor before he could hear it properly. He glanced down, half expecting to see his voice as some sort of sick child staring back up at him.
'You gonna be sick?' asked Gregor.
Jared shook his head and winced as the effort produced dots swimming before his eyes and sent his brain spinning. Gregor's hands were on his shoulders again, steadying him.
'You've been out there from the beginning.' It wasn't a question.
Jared, unable to speak, nodded just once. A tear caught in the corner of his eye, balled and fell onto his cheek. He made no effort to arrest its slide down his face.
Gregor watched it, nodded grimly. 'You need more rest. More food and then more rest. We'll eat.' He busied himself in his work space, shifting huge pieces of angel armour and equipment out of his way. 'Your little run-in with the angels is going to prove very useful. Hook and Stella both have lots of parts in need of repair; a lot of this stuff will end up in them or on them.'
Jared looked around the sharp, metallic piles. 'Will you turn them into angels?'
The tech laughed. 'No, I don't think so. Reckon neither of them wants to share their heads with a machine.' He tapped his temple as he spoke. 'No, this stuff will be used to fix them. I was a Games coach,' Gregor added by way of explanation.
Jared nodded. Games coaches were basically bio-engineers in charge of the teams' augmentations. The Cynosure Games had been so popular because they were so different from anything that had come before. Each contestant, team or individual games, was physically augmented. All of them were stronger, faster, quicker. 'Were you with Stella in the Games?' he asked.
Gregor nodded. 'We worked together for five years, scoring points, winning games. She was the 'Killer' and I was the 'Fixer'. Rest of the team used to change pretty regularly, injuries, retirements and so on, but Stella, she was there from beginning to end.'
None of this was new to Jared. An all-rounder, Stella had competed in the individual and team games. She was the Killer, the Cynosure, had been for three years in a row, and was the most exciting talent the two years before that. She was the most famous person in the world. A whole planet at her feet. 'The Cynosure fights for you,' whispered Jared.
'And she still does, in her way,' said Gregor. 'No more games but still plenty to do, plenty of points to score, people to fight for.' He nodded at Jared to remind him who had insisted that he come into their place. He bent to rummage for a tin in a cupboard. 'We normally try and vary the food a bit but I think you need something quick and easy.' He opened the tin of beans and sausages, poured them in a bowl and placed it in the microwave. 'I heard Hook call you Captain. You were army?'
Jared nodded, listening with renewed wonder to the purr of the microwave.
'When did you get out?' Gregor asked.
YOU ARE READING
Stella the Zombie Killer
HorrorStella is three years into the apocalypse and there are too many zombies to kill. Three years since the crash; three years since she was the Cynosure, champion of the Games and the most famous person in the world; three years of living with Hook and...