by V. Moody
Once he’d eaten the clovis Flossie had given him, Jespert no longer shuffled around like one of the undead and traipsed through the tall grass. We followed behind, somewhat dazed by the onslaught of preachy scolding and barely passable logic.
“If you bake aubergine with the right spices, it tastes exactly like chicken.”
It was madness, I tell you.
I was closest to him, with the rest forming a line behind me. Mandy was at the rear, still pissed off with me and in a dark mood. The others could tell we’d had words but didn’t ask for details.
It occurred to me I could solve everyone’s problem if I could just get Mandy to hook up with Jespert and leave her with him. But perhaps that was being unnecessarily cruel. The poor guy had suffered enough.
Claire walked up next to me and leaned over. “Are you sure we can trust him?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure I can trust you,” I whispered back.
“I’m serious. We’re just following him back to his lair. Who knows what’ll be waiting for us.”
“His lair? He’s not a badger.”
“I know, he’s a… you know… one of them.”
“A zombie?” I whispered.
“Don’t use that word,” she hissed back at me. “It’s offensive.” She looked around guiltily.
“You were the one thinking it. Does Maurice know you have racist tendencies?”
“Oh shut up. You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know where he’s taking us, but I’m guessing there’ll be fewer lizardmen there, which is the main thing. There’s a risk we could be walking into a trap, of course, but do you have an alternative plan? No? Well, neither do I. Plus, he only eats vegetables—he probably doesn’t have the strength to put up much of a fight. If he does attack, just keep dodging until osteoporosis takes its course.”
Claire wasn’t too impressed of me making light of her concerns, but let the matter drop. She changed her pace so she fell back in step with her boyfriend.
They had all followed my lead without question when I accepted Jespert’s offer of a meal and directions to Dargot through some mysterious tunnels he refused to go into detail about, but now they were getting a little antsy. I couldn’t blame them, I was just as unsure. Jespert seemed harmless enough. Didn’t mean he was.
“By the way, have you tried wheatgrass?” Jespert droned on. “A shot in the morning is better than half a dozen boiled eggs. It might taste disgusting, but then have you considered where an egg comes from?”
“He’s very passionate about food, isn’t he?” said Jenny. I was surprised to find her now walking beside me, talking to me as though it was the most natural thing in the world. In fact this was the first time since she’d joined that she’d said something to me unprovoked. “It’s almost like he’s deranged.”
“Standard vegan behaviour, if you ask me,” I said. “No point discovering the secret to good health if you can’t bore everyone to death about it.”
“I don’t know. The way he goes on about how precious life is one minute, and then wants to wipe out whole species the next makes me think his disease might be degenerative. If it’s got to his brain, might be dementia of some kind.”
I turned to look at her. She was staring at the back of Jespert’s head as though she was x-raying it. She wasn’t carrying any bags or weapons—they’d all been left behind when we fled—and even her clothes were borrowed from Claire. She strolled along beside me, occasionally brushing away the strands of hair fluttering around her head. Sappy thoughts filled my head.
I focused on the semi-decomposed mutant walking ahead of me. It was less disturbing. “I don’t think he’s that strange. Self-righteous people are often full of shit.”
“And did you notice how he always speaks out of the right side of his mouth?”
“Maybe his jaw’s about to fall off.”
“I think he might be deaf in the left ear so he pushes his voice to the other side so he can hear himself better.”
“Are you a detective on the side?” I asked her.
“Mm, what? Oh, haha, no. I just like figuring people out.”
I sped up a little and approached Jespert from the left side. “Is it much further?” I said in a low voice.
There was no response. Then he suddenly turned towards me. “Oh sorry, did you say something? I’m afraid I’m a little deaf in this ear.”
“I was just wondering if we were close.”
“Almost there. Just past those trees up ahead. And please be mindful of what you say. The others aren’t as forgiving as me when it comes to tolerating bigotry.”
“Ah, okay. Sure. Thanks.” Nothing like being accused of a hate crime to take the wind out of your sails. I slowed so I fell behind him again. Jenny was grinning.
“I told you he was deaf in that ear,” she said, unbearably smug and beautiful at the same time.
I grinned back and gave up all hope of getting together with her. I had no chance so why torture myself? I felt a lot better once I accepted that.
It took another half an hour before we reached our destination. It wasn’t what I was expecting, although it did kind of make sense.
“Erm, isn’t that a graveyard?” I said. Ahead of us were dozens of unkempt and decrepit tombstones. Vines and weeds grew everywhere, creating weird looking silhouettes in the starlight. There were even a few crumbling statues. A boy blowing a horn and an angel with four wings.
The others had formed into a tight knot of anxiety behind me.
“Don’t go jumping to conclusions,” Jespert warned us. “Yes, this is an old cemetery that’s too full to be of use to anyone. No one comes here, not humans, not lizardmen. That’s why it‘s perfect for those of us who want to be left alone in peace and quiet. They’re all too afraid of the ghosts. This way.”
He set off through the tombstones.
“Did he say ghosts?” said Flossie. They all stood there shivering. It wasn’t particularly cold.
“Oh come on,” I said. “It’ll be fine. If it’s one of those girl ghosts with the long black hair we’ll easily beat the shit out of her.”
I followed Jespert through the gravestones, sword in hand just in case. Sadly, Sadako never appeared.
In the middle of the cemetery there was a stone building. A crypt. The doorway was a gaping black hole. Jespert disappeared into it. I paused in the doorway and looked back at the Scooby gang jostling to let someone else go first.
“After you.”
“No, please, after you.”
“Ladies first.”
“You’re a lady, too!”
If there’s something strange in your neighbourhood, who you gonna call? Not this bunch of clowns, that’s for sure.
Steps led down into the dark. After the first couple I couldn’t see a thing and had to feel the walls to keep my balance. They were wet and slimy. Except for the cobwebs.
“Jespert?” I called down.
“Hold on,” he called back. “I’ll turn on the lights.”
There was a spark and the bottom of the stairs lit up. A torch burned brightly either side of the entrance. I looked back and saw six faces crammed into the doorway staring down at me.
“You lot stay there and keep an eye on all those graves. That’s probably where the ghosts will come from. Thanks.” I turned and walked down the stairs. There was a mad rush of footsteps behind me.
At the bottom, a long corridor led to another doorway.
“Everyone here?” asked Jespert. “Good. Wouldn’t want any of you left out there when the lizardmen come through—those workshy layabouts. The thought of it’s enough to make my skin crawl.” He shuddered and his skin did indeed crawl. Literally.
“I think you might have something on your neck,” I said, pointing. “Yeah, just there.”
He felt around his neck and then plucked a maggot out of the flaps of flesh. “Oh this? Not to worry, he’s one of mine. For medicinal purposes.” He placed the wriggling maggot back onto his neck. “Ri
ght, let’s go meet everyone.”
We were a little jittery as we walked down the passage which had stone urns in holes in the wall. At least there weren’t any heads in jars.
There was light coming from the doorway ahead and a little noise. It sounded like people talking and laughing. We walked through into a large room with tables and chairs and a fireplace with a roaring fire. It was quite homey with colourful rugs on the floor and painting on the walls. And lots of people. Or rather…
“Oh! Look at all the zombers!” said Flossie, loudly.
I cringed, waiting for backlash, but no one reacted. In fact they all got up and started walking towards us, which might have been a bit scary, seeing as how they all looked just as decomposed and covered in rotting flesh as Jespert, except they weren’t saying, “Unhhh, brains…” they were saying, “Ooh, nice to meet you,” and “Would you like a drink?” and other pleasantries.
“I found these people outside,” said Jespert. “I didn’t want to leave them out there for the lizardmen.”
There were nods and general murmurs of approval. There must have been about thirty of them. Male and female and quite a few children, from toddler to teenager.
“Sit, sit,” said Jespert, indicating the nearest table. “I’ll have some food brought out.”
We all put down our gear and sat down on the benches.
“Jespert, “ I said, “why did nobody say anything when Flossie used the, you know, the Z word?”
“No, no, she said zomb-er. That’s completely different. Zomber is more a term of affection.”
“Really? So you can say zomber but not zombie?”
A hush fell on the room as everyone stared at me.
“Sorry. Sorry. No offence meant.”
They didn’t look offended, they looked mad. They started shuffling towards me, eyes glaring, lips snarling. For vegetarians, they were doing a damn fine imitation of wanting to rip the flesh from my bones.”
“Okay, everyone calm down,” said Jespert. “He’s a Visitor, he doesn’t know any better. Let’s just forgive him. This time.” He gave me a withering look.
Reluctantly, they stopped their murderous advance and went back to what they’d been doing, but the general mood wasn’t quite as welcoming as it had been a minute ago. Shit.
5. Hope Vs Expectation
Food was brought out and served. Various people came up and introduced themselves and asked questions about where we’d come from and where we were going. Well, they asked the others. After my faux pas, I was ignored.
I sank into the background, which I happened to be very good at, and hoped everyone would forget I was there (another of my great talents).
They didn’t get many Visitors and news of the outside world was hard to come by for them, so there was a lot of interest. The kids especially weren’t used to new people and shyly hung around the table as we ate.
You might think having an audience of zombers watching while you eat would be a bit off-putting, but even though they looked like monsters, their appearance quickly lost its shock value. The children in particular were hard to see as anything other than kids with an unfortunate affliction.
The food was quite good. It was like a mushroom stroganoff and pretty spicy. I finished in record time and would have licked the bowl clean if I hadn’t felt self-conscious in front of the crowd.
“That was really great,” said Jenny. She didn’t have the problems speaking to people that the rest of us had, and even had a zomber toddler sitting on her lap. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Jespert, all flustered by the attention of a pretty girl. It occurred to me that even if I couldn’t have Jenny, she could still be a useful tool. Yes, a dickish thought, but better that than us all winding up dead. Evolution, after all, was built on the survival of the dickish.
More food was brought out and everyone else started eating too. Jespert picked up a large, grey mushroom.
“This is a fungus we grow in the caves below the crypt. It’s a staple of our diet and very versatile. You can even eat it raw.” He took a bite out of it.
The fungus cap was about the size and shape of a human brain. Maybe that’s where the ‘eating brains’ thing came from. Then again, did people in this world even know what a human brain looked like? In any case, it was far more disturbing being able to see him chewing it through the holes in his cheek.
“Now,” said Jespert, “I should tell you how to get to Dargot through the tunnels, but you probably want to rest. Perhaps I could speak with one of you while the others get some sleep. Is one of you the leader of the group?”
“Yes,” I said. “Her.” I pointed at Claire.
“Eh?” said Claire.
Jespert showed us to a part of the crypt that was uninhabited—well, not by the living—and left us to sort ourselves out while he went off with Claire and Maurice to explain how to get to Dargot.
There were a number of rooms, lined with shelves all filled with stone urns. I assumed they were full of ashes, but there were no name plaques or any other way to identify who was in there. The rooms also had beds. They were small cots with wooden frames and no mattresses, but they were certainly more comfortable than the ground.
Everyone gathered in one room and chatted away merrily. When things looked dire, attention was directed towards me, but when life returned to some semblance of normality, I was generally overlooked. Which was fine by me.
I slipped away and took up residence in a small room at the end of the passageway. It was covered in cobwebs and the urns in this room were cracked and broken. Human ash lay scattered here and there. Housekeeping had apparently missed a few spots.
Nobody would want to stay here, so I was sure they wouldn’t mind if I claimed it.
There were two cots, one of which looked like it was about to fall apart. I took out a blanket and spread it out on the slightly less flimsy bed and stuck my bag underneath. I lay down facing the wall with my head resting on my arm, but even though I was tired I found it hard to sleep. Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Still, it was quiet and nobody bothered me, so eventually I drifted off. Dead people make the best roommates.
I don’t know how long I dozed for—not very, I would guess—before I felt a weight settle on the other end of the bed. “Uh?” I said without opening my eyes.
“We spoke with Jespert,” said Claire. “He drew us a map. It looks pretty straightforward.”
There was movement and something was placed in front of my face. I opened one eye. It was a crudely drawn map of tunnels.
“The X at the bottom is where we are,” said Claire. “The exit at the top right is where we come out. Dargot is the big circle on the left.”
I opened the other eye to see the rest of the map. “Why don’t we use the tunnel on the left. Wouldn’t that bring us out nearer to the city?”
“Yes,” said Claire. “But Jespert said we should avoid that part of the map because of the trolls who live there.”
“Trolls? That doesn’t sound good. I don’t suppose they’re tiny with big blue hair.”
“No. They’re huge with skin like rock. Jespert said they aren’t a problem as long as we don’t bother them, but they can be a bit cheeky, so we should stay out of their way.”
“What did he mean by cheeky?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It didn’t sound good. If we take the tunnels on the right, we won’t have to find out.”
“Right tunnel it is, then. Good work.” I closed my eyes again.
“There is another option,” said Claire. “They seem like decent people and they have plenty of room. I’m sure if we asked, they wouldn’t mind if we stayed here for a while.”
It was a reasonable thought. Anywhere that was safe and provided food and shelter was worth considering as a place to stay. But I finally realised what had been bothering me. Why was there so much space? Or to be more specific, why were there rooms made up with beds when
they rarely had guests?
Did there used to be more of them? It was possible some had passed away, but there were a lot of empty room, each with at least a couple of beds in them. What happened to the former occupants?
“Have you ever seen ‘The Walking Dead’?” I asked Claire.
“Ugh. Colin, please, they aren’t reanimated corpses… They’re just people.”
“I don’t mean that. Whenever the people in ‘The Walking Dead’ come across a community that’s found a way to survive, they always think they’ve found a haven from the apocalypse outside, but it never works out. The dead are never as big a problem as the living.”
