Flowers Vs. Zombies (Book 6) Native

by Perrin Briar

  “You let me worry about me and my own,” Bill said. “You want what she knows, and we’ll give it to you, but she will not go with you on your ship.”

  “Then what do you suggest Bill?” Captain Shih said. “The age of modern technology and smartphones is over. There is no way to converse over large distances so easily anymore.”

  “Then each time you need to know the location of a particular cache, you can come back and get it,” Bill said. “That way, it’s fair for everyone.”

  “Sure,” Captain Shih said. “Fair for everyone but me.”

  “You’ve already shown you’re unreliable and cruel,” Bill said. “Just one glance at your crew shows that much.”

  “Jim is my property,” Captain Shih said. “He belongs to me. You can’t take him.”

  “She belongs to no one but herself,” Bill said. “And she will do whatever she wants.”

  “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation we have here,” Captain Shih said.

  “No,” Bill said. “I don’t think you do. This is not a negotiation. This is what is going to happen here today: you and your men will get back on your boat and get out of here. You will take some maps, drawn by Jenny, with you, so you can recover whatever weapons you need. Then, you will find them, pillage, kill people, do whatever it is that you usually do, and then when you need more, you can come back and get the maps you need.”

  “That’s it?” Captain Shih said. “That’s what you’re offering? You’re negotiating from weakness, Bill. You need to give me more than I give to you. That’s how this works.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Bill said. “But this is the only offer we can make.”

  “There’s another option,” Captain Shih said. “Join us. A man of resource like yourself, a doctor to boot, you’ll hold a high position in our crew.”

  “No, thank you,” Bill said.

  “You were right when you said this was not a negotiation,” Captain Shih said. “This is the first and last offer you will be receiving from me. You know as well as I that there was never going to be a peaceful resolution here today, Bill. I know men. It’s how I got to be where I am. And I recognize a man who can’t be bargained with.

  “You were never going to give up the boy, much less your family. But you would give up yourself for them. But I need you all. You’re going to be a useful man to have around, and I intend on getting everything I can out of you. Having your family held hostage is the only way to do that. This will be my move.”

  “What makes you think you and your men are going to get out of here alive?” Bill said.

  Captain Shih had a lopsided smile on her face.

  “You’re a doctor,” she said. “Liz is a housewife. Your kids are just that, kids. Taking lives and inflicting harm is as alien to you all as poisoning a babe is to a new mother. It’s not in you.”

  “Sometimes people surprise you,” Bill said. “Sometimes they’re capable of things you couldn’t imagine. Sometimes they’re even worse than you, because a doctor knows the human body, knows all its strengths and weaknesses, how to inflict the most amount of harm. How to kill efficiently. You made a grave error coming here.”

  The captain’s smile faltered.

  “Do you think you’re the first person to come to our island and try to take what we have from us?” Bill said. “We have a graveyard full of would-be usurpers. They failed, just as you did, and for the same reason. You underestimated us.”

  Captain Shih frowned, the lines in her forehead thick fleshy folds.

  “Get back on your ship now, sail away and don’t ever come back,” Bill said.

  The crew in the shack glanced at each other, uncertain.

  “What’s the matter?” Bill said. “Expecting a meeker opponent?”

  It had previously occurred to Captain Shih during their exchange that Bill never once looked particularly perturbed being surrounded by some of the most feared pirates on the open sea.

  There was something in the way Bill spoke that made the captain unsure about going further. There was an understated confidence, rooted in she didn’t know what. He should have been terrified.

  “You are right I can’t do harm to another human being,” Bill said. “At least not directly, by my own hand. But I can set traps, can put things in place that mean they can happen without my direct involvement. Didn’t you notice the little holes in the walls here? Liz wasn’t altogether happy with me drilling holes in her kitchen, I can tell you. But it’s for the greater good.”

  The captain looked at Bill, whose grin grew broader the longer he spoke. Captain Shih’s eyes went wide.

  Bill tipped himself back in his chair, falling backward.

  The captain stood up to leave.

  The glimmer in the shadows on the wall caught her eye. It was a shape she knew well enough, though she was usually on the other end of it: a barrel, black and cold, facing her grill.

  “No,” she said, as if she could forestall the inevitable.

  Bang!

  It sounded like a single pop, but was actually two dozen guns exploding in the same instant, unloading into the large meat sacks.

  Bill hit the floor, moved his legs to either side of the chair seat, and lay with his eyes closed, relaxed. There was nothing he could do now.

  There were thuds on the floor, collapsing bodies. Windows smashed, and for a moment the world was bathed with sheer noise.

  Then silence. Smoke from the gun barrels filled the room and wafted up to the ceiling.

  The silence was deafening.

  Bill got to his feet. Not all the pirates were dead. One was bent, crouched over, hands wrapped around his head, waiting for more gunshots, more bullets to be fired… But none came. He turned to Bill and grinned at him, wishing to share their mutual good luck. Then the pirate made a grab for his gun.

  Blam!

  The pirate reeled back, clutching his bloodied hand. He wasn’t in pain yet, the shock still flooding his system. Bill motioned for the pirate to climb down the ladder with the pistol in his hand. The pirate was only too pleased to do so.

  A gurgle.

  Bill spun, pistol aimed. Captain Shih had taken a bullet through the throat and was gasping her final few breaths. Bill stood over her.

  “You should never have come between me and my family,” he said. “And you were right, not that it matters now. I wouldn’t have been able to do this in the old world. But the world has changed, and we have to change with it. Or we die.”

  Captain Shih’s feet kicked out, but she was impotent. She became still, and her body flopped to one side. Bill checked each body for a pulse. There were none.

  Then, shouting outside. A voice Bill couldn’t make out. But it sounded frantic. Horrified.

  And then the shooting started.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  IT WAS now or never, Rupert decided.

  The undergrowth snapped behind him. Manuel was drawing closer. He was going to fall upon him like a ton of bricks and once he got his hands on him, there would be no escape.

  The men standing before him in the clearing were armed with guns, knives, full combat gear, and they knew how to use it, as Rupert knew full well. They were former fellow crewmates.

  Rupert was just about to step into the clearing when a shout went up, not in his direction as he had feared, but from the opposite side.

  The pirates shouted and unleashed a barrage of bullets. Rupert couldn’t believe his luck. It was just the distraction he needed.

  He dashed into the clearing, throwing his legs forward. They felt like heavy logs. The foliage rushed behind him, and he knew then Manuel was hot on his heels. There was no escaping him. He couldn’t have waited a moment longer.

  Rupert had forgotten the crew of The Red Flag was so large. There had to be forty, fifty men, all armed to the teeth. Whatever they were firing at had stoked their ire.

  Rupert caught sight of torn clothing and shredded flesh, and the unholy moan of the undead. Rup
ert didn’t pay that much attention to them. He needed to concentrate on getting across the clearing as quickly as possible.

  He knew his sprint would get the attention of the crew, but it should be obvious he wasn’t infected, especially since he was running away from them. He hoped he could get across the clearing before they opened fire.

  Bullets danced at Rupert’s feet. He thought he even felt one whizz past his ear.

  Rupert got to the other side of the clearing and dashed into the jungle. He skidded to a halt and turned to look back. His heart leapt. He’d been right. The pirates had accosted Manuel and they would put him down. But he was not making it easy for them.

  Manuel met Crusher, a large man, so named due to his huge muscles and the demolition tattoos on his arms and back. This would be a fight to remember, Rupert thought. He was dismayed to see Manuel put a hand around the other man’s neck, lift him up off the ground, legs dangling, before then bringing his fingers together, into a crushing grip, tearing Crusher’s throat out.

  Undead just ahead. Manuel shifted his weight, stepped hard with his right foot, and pushed forward with greater speed. The undead reached for him. He ducked to avoid their flailing rotting limbs, performing a limbo dance. He slid on his knees, but was up in an instant, almost losing his feet. He threw his weight forward and ran straight into a tree. He was quick to react, and pushed himself off it, turning to look over his shoulder.

  Manuel didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate for a moment as he rushed forward, a lumbering unstoppable juggernaut, and smashed into the undead, knocking them over like bowling pins. He caught one in his hands and gripped its head, tearing its head apart like rotten fruit, into soft meaty chunks that rained down over the scene.

  Nothing stood a chance against Manuel.

  Nothing.

  And as Manuel destroyed every man he came to, it became clear that he was going to break through all the pirates to get to Rupert.

  Metal mosquitos slammed into Manuel’s muscle-bound body, causing him to grunt. But he did not stop. He seized a fellow former pirate and used his body as a shield, drawing in close to the offending pirates. Manuel tossed the body onto the shooter and slammed his heel into his face.

  But always, his eye was on his prize: on the bush that Rupert was hiding behind. Then Manuel tore through the undead with equal ferocity, never slowing, never stopping, forever heading relentlessly forward, onward.

  Toward Rupert.

  Rupert gibbered and turned to run. His plan had failed and now, with nothing left to defend him, he staggered back into the jungle, his legs and spirit like jelly. He was doomed for sure.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE FLOWERS pulled back, laying down suppressing fire to aid their escape. They did not want to be a part of this, what would turn out to be a massive massacre of all those left remaining.

  The natives fired upon the pirates, who fired upon the undead, who attacked both fighting forces in equal measure. Manuel tore through everybody, until he ran into the jungle, disappearing from view. It was a mess.

  The undead raged against the living, pulling them apart when they got their hands on them. As soon as one victim was felled, the undead turned and descended upon another. As fast as they were blowing holes in the zombies, the undead were tearing through them too. They tore into their injured bodies, infecting them.

  The bodies writhed on the ground, jerking and dangerous, and then they began to rise. The undead were too orchestrated in their movements for it to be anything but an overlord in control of them.

  The pirates and natives shared a look, and an understanding, for the moment, passed between them. They turned to fight on the same side—against their former comrades. It was the turning point.

  Now, for every new undead the zombies added to their ranks, two died in its place. The zombie horde couldn’t take it, its numbers dwindling until they were no more.

  There was a moment of respite as the natives and pirates took in the scene. They were still alive! And then they glanced at one another, and the heavy machines of war in their hands. They turned on one another, squeezed their triggers, and blew each other away.

  This part of the battle did not take long. The surviving members were not many in number. Then, before anyone knew it, it had ended.

  The Flowers poked their heads out from their hiding places. They were shocked by what confronted them in the clearing. Bodies, unmoving, unflinching, blood, smoke. The remains of a battlefield.

  It was over.

  But it wasn’t yet over for everyone.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  MANUEL was soaked with blood—other people’s blood. It was an important, and to Rupert, unfortunate, distinction. Rupert had hoped it would be his own blood he would be bathed in. And not only human blood either, but undead blood too. It was thicker, darker, and did not run like water, but like lava erupting from the Earth’s core.

  Manuel stood over Rupert. There was no mistaking the malevolence in his eyes. He was here to do one thing; to end Rupert’s life. That was his goal, his course of action, and nothing would, nor had, displaced him from carrying it out.

  Rupert couldn’t run any longer. He was puffing and panting through his teeth. His body ached. He couldn’t do it anymore. He had to stop.

  Rupert took a step, but he couldn’t move his leg below the knee. His momentum carried him forward. He felt the crunch, heard it in the pit of his stomach. It knocked him for six. He took a step, but it was no good. His leg was no longer capable of carrying him onward for much longer. He crashed through the foliage and emerged into the sunlight.

  The sea beat against the sand and hard rocks in the bay. It was a cool and refreshing sound. He knew he was doomed. So this was where his life was to end. This was where his journey would take an unfortunate turn. This was where his final chapter would be written.

  It wasn’t so bad. He couldn’t have hoped for a better setting. He wasn’t the type to feel sorry for himself. But he would not go out without a fight. He bent down and picked up a length of driftwood lying on the craggy rocks and waited for Manuel to emerge. A demon he had himself helped create.

  The foliage drifted like snow. Manuel had the familiar look of a predator in his eyes, the look Rupert had always coveted when he was on the other side of the fence. Now, he loathed it, hated it with a passion.

  Rupert repositioned his feet to reduce the effect of his injured leg. It would allow him to swing the lump of wood with all his weight. He would aim for Manuel’s head. With any luck, it would connect and knock him unconscious. He weighed the weapon in his hands and sensed it was at least strong enough to inflict that much damage.

  Rupert was struck with the powerful feelings he had for Manuel. Damn it! At some point he had grown connected to the monster he had created. He was a friend, the only one he had in this world of theirs. Tears stung his eyes and dribbled down his cheek.

  “No,” Rupert said. “I could beat you, destroy your body, but I cannot murder you. I have taken enough from you already.”

  He tossed the bludgeon aside, letting it clatter to the stony earth. He reached out, offering his hand to Manuel.

  “How about we get over this, go back and defeat the undead freak and set this island on the right course?” Rupert said. “We’ll do it together, as we’ve always done everything. What do you say, friend?”

  Manuel’s expression changed minutely, Rupert thought, a slight softening behind the eyebrows, a lowering of his guard and his anger. A return of the old features Rupert recognized when they’d first met and become close. The child-like qualities and innocence of the person he had been.

  Manuel stood in front of him. Rupert was a good foot taller than Manuel, but where Rupert was tall and lithe, Manuel was thick, broad chested and strong, a tree trunk of a man. His arms were the size of Rupert’s legs.

  “You can’t kill me,” Rupert said. “I rescued you. I saved you. You were nothing till I found you, I nurtured you.”

  “You nothing now,”
Manuel said. “You weak.”

  Rupert’s eyes widened with shock. Those were the first words he had ever heard Manuel utter, and they had been to condemn him.

  With tears in his eyes, his body weak, a smile perched on his face, Rupert nodded.

  Manuel’s face assumed his signature mask of anger. He seized him by the neck, his movements so swift and fast that they were virtually invisible. Rupert’s eyes boggled like they might pop out of his skull.

  But there, in the corner of Manuel’s eye, was a single tear. Manuel grunted and lifted Rupert up into the air, and despite being taller than Manuel, Rupert began to feel his body, and then his legs, lift up off the ground, the tips of his boots, dragging and finally lifting up.

  Rupert’s throat made involuntary choking noises. There was a crunch as Rupert’s neck and vocal cords began to crush under Manuel’s incredible strength. Rupert gasped, but he didn’t fight. He had his hands clasped tight around Manuel’s thick hairy arms, like the simian cousin he so closely resembled. He was the closest living link to our Neanderthal cousins. And here he was, the living embodiment of all that history and confrontation.

  Rupert’s eyes never left Manuel’s. Death came as quickly and efficiently as a squeeze and twist of Manuel’s huge muscles. A crack, and a crunch, and death was upon him.

  He died with a smile on his lips, his only consolation the knowledge that he wasn’t the only creator doomed to die at his creation’s hands today. At least with Rupert’s death there came some poetic justice.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “IS IT OVER?” Ernest said.

  “Is it ever?” Bill said. “But the pirates and natives no longer need concern us.”

  “I’m free?” Jenny said with tears in her eyes. “I’m really free?”

  “Yes,” Liz said. “You can rest in peace now. No one will come looking for you any longer.”

  “But we’re never going to be free on this island,” Fritz said. “There is going to be someone out to get us, always. And one day we won’t be able to stand against them. There will be nothing we can do. They will overrun us.”