by Watts, Russ
“She okay?” said Mac watching Jessica leave.
“Yeah, she’s just worried about Rosa,” said Tom. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to it. It wasn’t like her to get upset and she kept making barbed comments to Heidi. Tom couldn’t understand why they weren’t getting on. Heidi wasn’t a threat to anyone and she had happily offered to help them. He still had feelings for Jessica, but he knew he was never going to be able to act on them. They were close, but he had grown accustomed to her treating him more like a brother as time went on. Tom realised he still had his arm around Heidi and withdrew it.
“So what’s the idea, Tom?” said Heidi. She wanted to change the subject. She was upset about her parents, and Jessica’s reaction was uncalled for. If she knew they were doing something positive, something that would get her back to her parents, she would feel better. Tom’s arm had already made her feel better. He had gripped her shoulder and a warm fuzzy feeling had spread throughout her.
“Well, there’s no point in all of us risking our necks. We’ll decide who goes to get the others, and on the way, we’re going to have to look for a vehicle. I don’t fancy going to Penzance by foot. It’ll take too long and it’s far too dangerous.” Tom picked up a strong metal spade and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll take a group and head out now.”
“You’re still going to try for Penzance?” Mac shook his head bewildered. “Do you still think the navy is coming? Penzance is a shallow dock, so there’s no way you can get a naval ship in there anyway.”
“Really? Hmm, well we have to try,” countered Tom. “What’s the alternative? This is safe, but for how long? What were you planning on doing when the food ran out? We have to do something, Mac. If the navy says that’s where they’ll be, then that’s where they’ll be. I wish you would reconsider coming with us.”
“Maybe, maybe. Look, get your folks, get a vehicle and then maybe. I guess I hadn’t thought too far ahead.” Mac scratched his head, trying to figure out what exactly he should do next.
Suddenly, a long scream echoed through the vast warehouse and they all jumped.
“What the hell was that?” asked Heidi.
“Shit, that sounded like Jessica.” Tom kept a hold on the spade he carried and ran off in the direction of the screaming.
As Heidi and Mac followed, Tom thought that something must have found its way in. A lone zombie had somehow found its way through the fence and took a chunk out of someone. Please God, not now, not now, not now. He raced through into the restroom ahead of Heidi and Mac.
“What was that?” he shouted.
Christina and Caterina were on their feet, worried expressions on their faces.
“I don’t know. It came from out there,” said Christina, pointing through the door to the outside area.
Tom pushed past Heidi and rushed outside. He saw Harry, Moira and Jessica standing in a circle of rose bushes looking down at the ground. Tom was still holding the spade and when he saw what they were looking at, he raised it above his head, ready to strike.
“It’s okay, Tom, it’s dead,” said Harry.
Moira had hold of Jessica. Tom could see he had been correct, that it had been her that had screamed. Her eyes were full of tears and she was shaking.
“It came out of nowhere!” said Harry. “Bastard thing just flew in over the fence there and nearly took Jess out. Bloody good job she had that saw on her.”
Tom stepped closer to the thing on the ground. It was like no animal he had ever seen before. The saw had cleaved it in half and evidently, when it had landed, Harry had stomped on it to make sure it was dead. There were two elongated wings on either side of its body, although there were no feathers. They looked more like a bat’s wings, all leathery and veiny. The body of the creature was fat and covered in thick black fur. There was a tail still flailing about connected to the dead body and it trailed to a pointed, glistening tip. A gloppy brown liquid was oozing out of the tip over the ground at Harry’s feet.
Tom looked at the other end of the creature where its head had been. Despite Harry’s heavy feet, Tom reckoned it had been a cat once. It had two heads and the whiskers, the small pink nose, and the pointed ears were all undoubtedly feline. One head looked fairly normal, but the other was covered in a rash of huge blisters that must have obscured its vision. If it had once been a cat, then it had mutated into something else, something hideous and deadly. He lowered his spade.
“Jesus Christ, what is that thing?” said Heidi rushing up behind Tom.
“It’s dead, that’s the main thing,” Harry replied, stamping on its two heads once more. The tail finally stopped moving whilst the brown liquid continued seeping from it.
“Call me insane, but to me it looks like it was a cat once,” said Moira.
Jessica threw the saw to the ground and rushed inside, barging past Tom without looking at him.
Harry knelt down to examine it more closely. He grabbed a twig from a nearby bush and poked the creature’s carcass. “Look at this. Its legs have been pushed up into its body. I wonder if this was two cats. There are so many joints and bones...I think I can count at least six legs here. They’re all shrivelled up though. Fuck knows how a cat grows wings.”
“I told you,” said Tom bending down beside Harry as he poked and prodded it, “this infection is alien. We don’t know what it’s capable of. So far, it seems to take humans and kill them, reanimating them into hungry walking dead ones. We don’t know what else it can do. What if it’s evolving somehow?”
“What do you mean?” asked Moira.
“Well, we figured this infection was maybe an accident, right, some sort of alien disease that can turn any living thing into a zombie? What if it’s more than that? What if the disease is a living thing too, like a parasite? What if it’s taking the creatures on this planet and using them for its own design?”
“Design?” Heidi stood behind Tom, careful not to get too close, but fascinated to see the strange thing that had flown in and nearly killed Jessica.
“I think Tom is suggesting this might not be an accident,” said Harry. “Perhaps this alien infection has a purpose? Maybe we’re being targeted.”
Mac let out a long whistle. “This is all very interesting, but your friend’s scream seems to have brought us some visitors.”
The zombies in the car park were beginning to converge on the garden centre, alerted by the noise and activity.
“I’m going to see if Jessica’s okay,” said Tom. “We’d better get back inside.” He didn’t want the zombies to get too excited and was unsure of how strong the fences were that currently protected them.
“I’ll stay a bit longer,” said Harry. “I just want to make sure nothing else comes through or over that fence.”
“I’ll stay with you,” declared Moira.
Tom took Heidi back inside and Mac followed them, picking up the discarded saw on his way.
Harry watched as a large zombie staggered out of the supermarket and headed toward the garden centre. Plastic bags whirled around its feet and then away into the middle of the car park, swept up in a mini-tornado. He watched them rise and fall, swooping through the air before the wind disappeared and they dropped casually to the ground. More and more zombies were headed their way. Beyond the rubbish and the leaves, the abandoned cars and the dead, a figure shambled toward them. There was something slightly different about this one. Whilst the zombies tottered around unsteadily, this one was walking directly toward them.
“Hey, Moira, look over there. That one’s headed over here. See how it looks different to the rest?”
She looked to where Harry was pointing and saw the one he was talking about. She squinted and looked at the figure. It was a man, wearing baggy trousers and a checked shirt. Moira’s eyes opened wide.
“Holy Shit, it’s Jackson!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sun was shining and Lazarus had to shield his eyes from the glare. It was almost white, tearing through the low c
louds, ripping them apart without mercy. Lazarus turned away from the window. He had informed Walker of what they had heard about the navy and instructed him to make sure everyone on the island was busy. He also told him to watch Ed. Lazarus was fairly certain Ed could be trusted, but it didn’t hurt to have him watched, just in case.
Lazarus made his way through the castle, admiring the pennants and flags on the walls. They were symbols of the olden days, when life was miserable and cold and hard. Civilisation had gotten fat and lazy and now the hard times were back. He intended to take all those fat and lazy people and make something of them, of himself. He had tried following in his father’s footsteps a few years back, but could never live up to the old man’s ideals. Where his father had taught Classics at University, Lazarus could only get a job teaching history at a private school. To anyone else it would have been an impressive job, but to his father it was a failure. Where his father had raised an intelligent son with a loving wife, before the cancer had taken her, Lazarus had failed to hold down any relationship and therefore failed to produce any offspring. His father had regularly berated him for his deficiencies. In his youth, Lazarus had felt the weight of a leather belt across his backside many times. When he was older, it was his father’s harsh words that cut him.
A year ago his father had told him how his mother had considered an abortion early on. They were young and hadn’t prepared to have a child so early. To look at him now, his father said, he wished they had gone through with it. He had named his child Lazarus with the hope that such a grandiose name might inspire him to achieve something in his life. As Lazarus soared, so should he.
Lazarus had studied and worked hard, but could never compete with his father’s ideals. If he had been anointed King of England his father would still find some excuse to castigate him. Six months ago, his father had been shouting at him across the dinner table, his face getting redder and redder until abruptly the shouting had stopped. Lazarus had watched as his father suddenly keeled backward clutching his chest, knocking the table over as his chair fell over. Lazarus had watched as his father suffered a massive heart attack there in his living room. With his father dying at his feet, Lazarus poured himself another glass of Shiraz and sat down on the piano stool. He played some Haydn and a little Bartok whilst he finished the bottle of wine. Eventually, only when he was sure his father was cold and dead, he called 999.
Lazarus stepped outside into the fresh air. Down on the slope he could see his men working. This thing with the navy had made him uneasy though. It might pay to check on his insurance plan, just in case. He made his way down, through the village, and went to the stone house where Walker was monitoring the radio. Lazarus poked his head around the door.
“Anything?” he asked.
Walker shook his head from side to side. “Just static. I’ll let you know if I get anything.”
Lazarus left him and followed a small path that went further down the hillside. There was a crude pathway carved into the hillside and Lazarus followed it round, out of sight of the village. He made sure nobody saw him. The path curved around the Mount and took him to its rocky base. Nobody ever came down here, there was no need to. He could see the grisly remains of one of the women on the rocks ahead, but ignored them and slipped into a cave. It looked out to sea and only Lazarus knew what secrets this dark hole contained. In the gloom, he felt along the wall as the water lapped at his feet. He felt the rope where he had left it and pulled himself along it. There she was. She was still tied up where he had left her: Pandora.
She was a sailing yacht in perfect condition that he had secured here at the start of the outbreak. Wherever you were, no matter how safe you felt, you should always have an escape plan, his study of past wars teaching him that lesson well. Nobody knew about the boat, not even Walker. Lazarus had no intention of letting anyone else know it was here either. He looked it over, smiling, pleased to see she was still in good order. The darkness of the cave hid her well. Unless someone took the steps down the cliff base this way and knew to go into the cave, they wouldn’t even know there was a boat there.
Lazarus exited the cave and climbed back up the hillside to the village. He looked in on Walker once more, but to his surprise, found the radio unmanned. Why would Walker leave his post? He knew how important this was. Lazarus began to wonder if Walker could be trusted too, when Ed suddenly bumped into him.
“Sorry, sir, I got here as quick as I could.” Ed sat down at the table and picked up the headphones.
“Where’s Walker? Why are you back here so soon, Ed?” Lazarus tried not to let his rising anger show. His right hand clenched into a tight fist and he released it, trying to let his anger evaporate with it.
“Walker said Honok was back early. He just got word no more than two minutes ago so he asked me to take over. Sounds like they found some people. Awesome eh?”
“Thanks, Ed. Stick to it, okay? I want to know the second they’re back on the air. When you hear something, anything at all, then come and fetch me.”
Lazarus left and strode up the hillside toward the castle. It wasn’t even noon, yet Honok had returned. He was intrigued as to what, or who, was so important that he would come back so soon. Lazarus made his way into the castle and downstairs. He approached Norm on the way, who was cleaning the cells and washing the steps with a bucket of cold water and bleach. He was sporting a black eye and a cut lip. When Lazarus passed by, Norm tensed and stood up straight.
“Get back to work,” grunted Lazarus as he walked past Norm. The odious man was beginning to grate. If Honok found others, perhaps there would be more recruits. Lazarus was beginning to think he needed some fresh blood in the ranks. Autumn was setting in, but it was time for some spring cleaning.
As Lazarus descended the steps to the tunnel entrance, he heard raised voices, male and female. Lazarus smiled.
“Oui, now get your fucking hands off her!” shouted a male voice. Lazarus heard shrieks and cries followed by the sound of scuffling.
“Okay, okay, just stop hurting him,” begged a young female voice.
Lazarus took the last step and was surprised to see the room so busy. Honok and Shane had hold of a man. In the cart sat another man, only much older and apparently dressed in pyjamas. Walker had a woman pressed up against the wall, a knife to her throat and in the middle of the room stood another older woman. Christopher had forced her to strip and he held a large blade to her neck.
“Now then, gentlemen, would someone like to tell me what is going on?” said Lazarus surveying the room. The room went quiet. The tunnel door was still open and a cold breeze came in. He was glad he still had his black coat wrapped around him.
Walker pushed the young girl down to the floor. “Sit!”
“We picked up some waifs and strays, sir,” said Honok proudly. “They were messing about in Longrock. Any later and they would have been brunch for half the town. They should be grateful really.”
“I trust you have checked they’re clean,” said Lazarus. “We wouldn’t want anyone here with any sort of infection would we.”
“They’re clean,” said Shane. “Christopher’s helping us check them, but I’m sure they’re fine.”
“What the hell are you doing?” shouted Laurent, struggling to free himself from the vice-like grip of Honok and Shane. “You can’t do this. Where are we?”
“Honok, who is this? Did you get any names or information yet?” Lazarus walked over to Walker and looked at the young girl sitting at his feet.
“Yes sir. This is Laurent, and these are his friends. That woman over there is Glenda. Her husband got nailed by the zombies. Over there with Walker is Rosa. That man cowering in the cart is Leonard.”
Lazarus looked around. The naked woman, Glenda, was shivering. The other new faces were looking at him fiercely. He walked across to the girl on the floor and told her to get up.
Rosa stood and spat at him. Saliva dribbled down Lazarus’ cheek as Walker slapped the newcomer and held her back. Lazarus
was happy to see the hatred burning in Rosa’s eyes.
“Christopher, take Glenda to Norm. I’ll take this feisty one with me. Walker, I want you to take Mr Laurent to the cells and ask him a few questions. I suspect they have more friends out there and it would be useful to know where they are. They haven’t survived on their good luck, so I want to know how. They must have supplies and weapons.”
Christopher shoved Glenda down the wet stone steps into the cells. They were still wet from where Norm had washed away the bloodstains and she slipped, crashing headfirst onto the stone floor.
“Lock that up, Norm.” Christopher turned and left hastily. He had seen Norm’s face and knew better than to upset the boss.
Norm reached down and gave Glenda a hand up. She reached to her head and saw blood on her hands. She felt dazed, dizzy, and she stumbled into the cell with Norm where he shoved her onto a dirty mattress. She was aware of a door closing and heard keys jangling.
“And you are?” asked Norm, standing the other side of the locked door.
“Glenda Cooper. Where, where am I?” Glenda looked around for a rag, a piece of clothing, anything to cover herself up with. There was nothing at all. The cell was empty aside from the mattress she sat on and a bucket in the corner which smelt, literally, like shit.
“You’re in the dungeon. What does it look like? Shit, how hard did you bang your head? And that wasn’t my fault, you slipped,” said Norm defensively.
As Glenda looked around, she saw Norm more clearly. He was an obese and dirty man. He was looking at her closely and she felt like she was under a microscope. She crossed her arms and sat back against the wall. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Where are my clothes?”
“Look, you don’t need to understand. It’s probably better if you don’t, actually. There’s a lot of blokes on this island and it’s a small place. Occasionally, they need to let off steam, you know...you’re here to help them...relax. I’m here to look after you.”
