“I thought you’d prefer doing it yourself,” William says, without the faintest smile. “We’ll look away.”
Mille gapes at him. “You can’t be serious. Do you know what I’ve been through today? I have … I have been almost … almost …” Her body is shaking so violently that her throat closes up. Rage and sorrow are choking her and she blinks furiously to keep back the tears as she glowers at William. “Who the hell … do you think … you are?”
He doesn’t answer.
She steps towards the car, expecting for them to grab her and hold her back, but they simply step aside and let her pass. Mille goes to open the car door, but the lock snaps shut.
She turns and stares at William who has the key in his hand. He lights his cigarette in an infuriatingly nonchalant way, as though he’s Bruce Willis in some stupid action movie.
“Drive me home!” she demands. “Drive me back into town!”
“I think you’ll regret that if I do,” he says calmly blowing out smoke. “But if you really want it, I’ll drive you back. I just can’t let you inside my car before you’ve checked yourself. It’s nothing personal, really, but I saw you inside the car with a zombie, and I have no way of knowing what happened to you.”
Mille takes in air to scream at William, when Dan suddenly steps forward and takes hold of her arm.
“I’ve seen it happen twice before,” he says, fixing her eyes with his. “My friend died because he stepped on a piece of broken glass, and an elderly lady got scratched by a cat that had stepped in infected blood. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it happening again.”
Mille is struck by the amount of pain she sees in his large, blue eyes, and suddenly it feels like she’s imploding. The rage seeps out in a long, shivering breath. She shrugs. “Look, I really don’t think I have any scratches. Honestly. I don’t feel pain anywhere.”
“We just need to be completely sure,” William says, spitting.
Mille checks herself for any scratch wounds. She doesn’t strip down, but she rolls up her sleeves and pulls out her shirt and shorts. The boys watch her silently.
“There,” she says. “All done.”
William looks down. “What about under your feet?”
Mille takes off her sandals and checks the soles of her feet. “Nothing.”
“Can I check the back of your neck, please?” Dan asks carefully, and Mille pulls her hair aside, letting him check her skin. “It looks fine,” he says.
“Congratulations!” William says, smiling at her in a way Mille finds both really annoying and annoyingly charming, as he drops the cigarette on the asphalt and steps on it. “You’ve made it through round one.”
NINETEEN
“This is it,” William announces as he sees Holger’s place coming up ahead.
The house is lying atop a small hill a couple hundred yards off the road, making it visible from far away, a single windmill right next to it, whirling lazily in the hot summer air. William slows down the car and turns onto the gravel road winding its way up to the house.
“Does your uncle know we’re coming?” Dan asks.
“Sure, I spoke with him on the phone earlier,” William says, darting a glance in the rearview mirror. “Speaking of, don’t you have anybody to call? Like your parents, perhaps?”
To his surprise Mille just shakes her head, not even looking at him.
“Really? Is there no one who needs to know where you are? Or maybe someone you’d like to warn about what’s going to happen?”
“No,” Mille says, still glancing out of the window. “All of my friends died on that bus.”
William can still picture the scene, even though Mille only described it briefly and with very little detail. She’s obviously traumatized, and it’s no wonder.
“Then how about your fami—”
“I don’t have a family,” she cuts him off, a sudden fierceness in her voice.
“Okay,” William says, sending Dan a look.
Dan returns the look and shakes his head discretely, as though to say: “Stop digging.”
William changes the subject. “Right, there’s a few things you need to know about my uncle. He’s been battling some mental stuff, but he’s on medication now, so he’s perfectly functional. He might seem a little suspicious, but don’t take it personal, he’s just like that with people he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t like being touched, so don’t shake his hand or anything like that.” He looks at Mille in the mirror; she’s looking back at him with an expression of growing skepticism. “Now, it’s his place, so if he doesn’t want you there for some reason, I’ll have to take you back to town. But I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“Is this really the best place to be?” Mille asks. “At a mentally ill person’s house, far away from anyone else?”
“Wait until you see the place,” William says. “I think you’ll understand once you do.”
They reach the courtyard, and William brings the car to a halt. Seen from the outside, Holger’s house looks like any other house you’d expect to find out here; there’s a garage and an outside boiler-room beside the residential building.
Holger comes walking around the garage, eyeing the car suspiciously. It’s been a few years since William saw his uncle. Holger gained a couple of pounds and his hairline has receded a bit farther back—other than that, he looks like William remembers him, dressed in way too warm cargo pants and a worn shirt with rolled-up sleeves. His round face is glistening with sweat, and his hands are black from dirt and oil.
“Is that him?” Dan asks.
“That’s him,” William says, adding quickly as Dan unbuckles: “I think it’s better I talk to him first.”
Ozzy whines from the trunk, impatient to go say hello to Holger, whom he apparently recognizes even though he only saw him once.
William opens the door and steps out into the warm afternoon air. “Hey, Holger. Long time no see.”
Holger stops a few yards distance from the car, and William notices a tiny shovel in his hand. “Hello, William,” he says with a bated smile. The tiny eyes seem even more squinted because of Holger’s heavy forehead, but they’re also alert, and right now they’re darting back and forth between William and the car. “Who’s that you’ve brought?”
“Just a couple of friends. I think I might have promised them a spot here at your place.”
Holger’s gaze stops ping-ponging and fastens on William. “Is it because of what they’re saying on the radio?”
William nods.
Holger breathes deeply through his nose and exhales heavily. He looks somehow both scared and relieved at the same time, and William gets why. Holger has been living for twenty years with paranoia, the last ten a little less bad due to the medication, and yet William knows his uncle never really let go of his nagging suspicion that the world would one day soon come to an end, and that belief has made him isolated and a cast-out. Even William’s mom, Holger’s own sister, has had a hard time dealing with her brother, and William still suspects it was part of the reason why she moved to Holland after William left home.
William himself is probably the closest family member Holger has left, quite simply because William is the only one who never judged him for his paranoid thoughts, and today William feels particularly grateful that’s the case.
“How bad is it?” Holger asks, his voice grave.
“Pretty bad. I think it might be the end of society as we know it, but … maybe the authorities can still stop it.”
“The authorities,” Holger sneers, showing his tiny teeth in a humorless grin. “They’re probably the ones who started it.”
“Nope,” William says, and when Holger looks surprised, he adds: “You’ll get the story later.”
Holger eyes him. “So, is it … zombies?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they acting like in the movies?”
“As far as I can tell.”
Holger nods slowly. “I thought it sounded like zombies from what
they’re saying on the radio. Of course they didn’t use that word. And I wasn’t really paying attention, ’cause I’ve been busy harvesting vegetables.” He holds up the shovel, as though to prove what he’s saying. “I got to it right after you called me. It’s a lucky time of year, you know, ’cause there’ll be lots to eat the coming months. We can store the potatoes and the onions for weeks, and that way we’ll get fresh vitamins every day. As long as we just—”
“Holger,” William says, holding up a hand. “That’s all great, it really is. But let’s wait and see, all right? Maybe it doesn’t need to go that far. For now, we’ll just have to take one day at a time. That sound fair?”
Holger studies him for a moment, as though he just said something rather crazy. Then, he nods. “All right. But I already prepared everything.”
“Awesome. I’m really happy you’re willing to help out.” He gestures towards the car. “So, is it cool with you if Dan and Mille stay too?” He quickly adds: “They might be going back home soon, depending on how things unfold.”
Holger looks to the car, then back to William. “Are they trustworthy?” he asks, lowering his voice.
“To be honest, I don’t know them very well. But they’ve both been in contact with the zombies, so they might have—”
“They been in contact with them?” Holger exclaims, stepping backwards.
“Easy, Holger!” William says, realizing his mistake. “I’ve checked them for any wounds or scratches. All three of us. We’re all clean, I promise.”
Holger looks like he seriously considers turning on his heel and sprinting out of the courtyard, but he forces himself to stay. “If we let them in and one of them becomes sick …”
“Then we’ll throw them back out,” William says immediately. “We all agree on that. And same goes for me, of course.” Holger lifts his eyebrows, and William goes on: “I didn’t touch any zombies, I’m just saying.”
Holger takes a few deep breaths, scratches his neck and glances at the car. Two white butterflies whirl across the courtyard in a carefree dance, and William is reminded how surreal the situation is. It might look like an ordinary summer’s day, but nothing might ever be ordinary again.
“All right,” Holger finally mutters. “They can stay for now.”
“Thank you, Holger,” William smiles.
“Shall we go inside?” Holger suggests, nodding towards the house. “I could really use something to drink.”
TWENTY
They enter what seems at first glance like a pretty normal home. But Dan already notices the subtle signs in the hallway. The front door, for instance, is reinforced on the inside with a heavy iron grid and has three large sliding latches. He looks up and sees a camera in the ceiling, staring down at them.
Holger kicks off his shoes in the corner before going into the kitchen. “You guys just wait in the living room,” he calls back.
Dan and Mille both look to William, and he waves them discretely into the adjacent room. Ozzy follows close to William while sniffing the air curiously.
The living room is pretty big, but it seems smaller due to all the stuff taking up every available surface. Shelves, chairs, windowsills, the couch, even the floor is crammed with all kinds of stuff, not to mention the dining table in the middle of the room, which is covered in book piles and cardboard boxes reaching almost to the ceiling. Holger has collected all kinds of things, tools, accessories, electronic devices, and objects Dan can’t even identify. There are also quite a few plates and cups strewn about, and flies are buzzing in the air. It smells like it’s been weeks since a window was opened. Holger is pretty obviously a bachelor.
But there are no apparent signs that Holger’s home should be the zombie-proof fortification William hinted at. The only form of protection Dan can see is the metal grids barring the windows and making him feel like he’s in prison. Oh, and more cameras in the ceiling.
He begins to seriously consider if he made a mistake going with William. Maybe he should have taken the chance when William offered to drop him off.
“Sorry for the mess,” Holger calls from the kitchen. “Try to find a place to sit down. Just don’t break anything.”
William clears a couple of chairs and offers Mille one of them. Dan moves a tower of books off the couch’s armrest and sits down.
Holger brings in a large pitcher of red lemonade and takes a glass from a cupboard which he fills and chucks down in one go. He burps and pours himself another glass before sitting down at the corner of the coffee table.
“You know, I always knew this day would come,” he mutters into the glass before taking another big swig—the sight of the lemonade has suddenly reminded Dan how thirsty he is, but Holger doesn’t seem intent on offering any of his guests something to drink. “It was only a matter of time.”
“Yeah, you were right all along,” William says, getting up. He takes three glasses from the cupboard and hands them to Dan and Mille, before he takes the pitcher from Holger, who barely seems to notice.
“Now I guess they wish they’d listened,” he says, staring into the floor.
William pours lemonade for the three of them, and Dan immediately gulps down the sweet, synthetic-tasting liquid. Then he licks his lips and stares longingly at the pitcher, which William hands back to Holger, who pours himself a third helping.
“Cheers,” William says, raising his glass, looking around at them with a pale smile. “To the end of the world.”
“Cheers,” Holger mutters, as though not really listening.
Dan glances at Mille, who has found her phone and is checking something on it. She sips her glass but doesn’t seem to like the taste. Ozzy is slinking around sniffing the surroundings.
“Well,” William says, going to the window. It’s not easy getting a clear view, because the curtain is hanging down on one side, and the other is blocked by more books. “This is like the beginning of a disaster movie. Four people and a dog hobbled together in a fight for survival. Now all we need is the zombies.”
Dan can tell William is trying to make a joke out of it, but he doesn’t really feel like laughing.
“Excuse me,” Mille says. William turns to her, and Dan can see how Mille strains to talk calmly. “I’m glad you helped me. I think you saved my life.”
“I think so too,” William says, neither shame nor pride in his voice.
“But,” Mille goes on, “I really don’t see how we’re anymore safe out here than at our own homes. Is it just because we’re outside town or what? Because if the whole world is going to end, like you say it is, then the zombies will probably come out here too at some point. And if I had to choose, I think I’d rather be somewhere I know.”
“It’s not just because we’re outside town,” William says, finding his cigarettes. “Okay if I smoke in here, Holger?”
“Please don’t. It’s unhealthy.”
“I know,” William sighs, putting the pack back into his pocket. “But why stop now?”
“Then how are we more protected out here?” Mille exclaims, throwing out her arms. “As far as I can tell, this is just a regular house with barred windows.” She glances at Holger. “No offense. It’s nice of you to … let us stay here.” Those last words sound like they don’t want to come out.
Holger avoids her gaze and says nothing.
William empties his glass, wipes his mouth and gets up. “What do you say we show them the place, Holger?”
Holger looks around at them uncertainly, then he nods and gets to his feet. “Follow me. We’ll take the entrance in the bedroom.”
“The entrance?” Mille repeats, but since neither William nor Holger replies, she looks to Dan. Dan simply shrugs, gets up and follows them into the next room.
Holger’s bedroom is dimly lit and smells even more stuffy than the living room. His bedsheets visibly need a changing, and dark blinds keeps out most of the daylight. Dan notices the bed is placed at an odd angle, and he realizes why as Holger kneels down and pulls aside a
n old, worn-down rug, revealing a hatch in the wooden floor. He opens it and reaches down to pull up a flashlight.
“Follow me,” he says, placing the flashlight in his belt. Then, he climbs down a ladder fastened to the inside of the hole in the floor.
“Ozzy, stay,” William says, following his uncle. The German shepherd sits down and watches his owner disappear out of sight.
Dan glances at Mille, who’s staring at the hole with a highly skeptical look.
“Is that like a hidden basement or what?” she whispers.
“I have no idea,” Dan admits. “Do you want to go first?”
Mille steps back and waves him forward.
Dan takes a deep breath before he sits down and climbs down the rusty steps. The descent is longer than he anticipated, maybe twelve feet before he finally feels solid ground underfoot. He turns and is blinded by the flashlight.
“Where’s the girl?” Holger’s voice asks.
Dan is too stunned to answer right away. He looks around to see not a basement but a long, narrow corridor stretching as far as the light reaches. The ground is dirt, but the walls are made of planks and wooden boards. The ceiling is just high enough for Holger and Dan to be standing upright, but William has to crane his neck slightly.
“Holy shit,” Dan whispers.
William sends him one of his crooked smiles. “Wait till you see what’s at the end.” He looks up through the hole. “You coming, Mille?”
No answer, but after a short while the steps creak, and Mille comes climbing down very carefully. She looks around, appearing just as surprised as Dan. “What is this place?” she asks, stroking her arm.
“That’s a good question,” William says, looking at his uncle. “What do you call it, Holger?”
Holger shakes his head. “I don’t call it anything.”
“Well, let’s name it … Fort Holger!”
Holger bares his baby teeth in a silent grin. Then, he turns and paces down through the corridor, bringing the flashlight and causing the rest of them to follow along quickly so as to not be left in the dark.
The corridor goes on for what feels like a hundred yards with no turns or forks. Finally they reach a door with no visible lock but only a small panel of numbered buttons. Holger glances briefly over his shoulder before typing the code. The lock beeps and the door can be opened.
Dead Meat (Book 3): Dead Meat [Day 3] Page 8
