by Watts, Russ
Harry noticed the amazing variety and multitude of weapons still adorning the walls: battle axes, war hammers, crossbows, swords, bayonets, spears, daggers, maces and more. It was a treasure trove of antiquated weapons, suited to the bloodthirsty and the violent. Harry would quite happily have taken any of them at that point in time, but annoyingly, Walker was holding a gun and any attempt to grab one of the weapons so tantalisingly close would end in failure.
“Look, I need some fresh air, can I go outside for a moment?” asked Harry.
“No, wait over there.” Walker prodded Harry with the gun and made him go sit on the bed. “You. Jackson. Take off your shirt.”
“Now hang on,” said Harry. “He’s an old man, he just...”
“It’s okay, Harry,” said Jackson dejectedly. “Mr Walker, there’s no need.” He rolled up his trouser leg and exposed the bitten skin underneath, showcasing the boils and blisters that covered his shin.
“Holy shit, you’ve been bitten,” said Walker. He stepped back and cocked the gun.
“Wait, hang on,” said Harry. “We can sort this out.”
“You knew about this, didn’t you,” said Walker.
“No, no, I didn’t. Look, we can sort this out, Walker.”
“Shut up and sit down. If I hear another word out of you I’m going to kill the both of you.”
Walker kept the gun pointed at them and walked over to the door. He opened it halfway and called out. “Hey, Norm, get up here.”
Moments later, Norm appeared in the doorway.
“Go get Lazarus, right now. Tell him it’s an emergency.”
Norm saw the gun that Walker was holding and frowned. “But I’m busy interrogating the guests. I’m supposed to...”
“Go get him, now!” yelled Walker.
Norm disappeared and Walker rested in the doorway, his strong back on the wooden frame. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you two can answer to Lazarus.”
Norm came crashing downstairs and Lazarus was right behind him.
“Well?” said Lazarus looking at Walker.
“Harry’s clean, but the old man, Jackson, is infected.”
Lazarus pushed the door open and looked at them. Harry and Jackson both sat on the bed, their hands clasped. Harry stared defiantly back at Lazarus, but Jackson’s head hung down. It was too much effort to keep holding it up. The play was over and they had lost.
“I thought we weren’t going to have a problem, gentlemen?” said Lazarus unsheathing a sword from its scabbard on the wall. “I thought we might understand each other. We still haven’t heard from Honok and it’s getting late. I suppose we won’t be seeing him again eh? Not that you would know anything about it, of course. Just like you didn’t know you were infected?”
“I kept it to myself,” said Jackson. He looked up at Lazarus.
Harry noticed that Jackson’s eyes were sunken, even paler now than they had looked just ten minutes ago. It was as if the infection was finally catching up with him. Now the pretence was over, Jackson’s willpower had ebbed away. His body was flushed with the infection and his brain was telling him to give up. His wife, Mary, was calling to him. Oh, how he longed to see her again.
“I got bitten a few hours ago, but I didn’t tell Harry. I wanted to make sure he was safe. Look after him for me, please.”
Lazarus ran his tongue across his bottom teeth. Could he trust them? Could he trust Harry? They had brought Shane back. Admittedly, Shane had died not long afterwards, but they had tried. They had willingly given up their guns too. It seemed the only real problem was with Jackson.
Harry watched as Jackson stood up. He wanted to reach out to his friend. He wanted to tell him it would be okay, but he knew it wouldn’t be. He wished he could take away Jackson’s infection, take him back home to his wife before all this had begun. He knew how much Jackson missed Mary.
Jackson cleared his throat and did his top button up. He stiffened his back and wet his fingers, then flattened down his hair. His knees were trembling and it was all he could do to not faint on the spot. His brain was fuzzy, his vision more so. Sweat dripped down the nape of his neck, soaking into the oversized flannel shirt he wore. He could literally feel the blisters on his skin popping. Despite the pain, he looked at Lazarus. “So what’s it to be?”
“Come here, Harry.” Lazarus held out the sword and passed it to Harry. “Do it.”
Harry took the sword in his shaking hands. The handle was carved and embedded with three small emeralds. He looked up at Lazarus. Harry had faced down some tough criminals in his career: violent thugs, career criminals and the mentally insane. Yet never before had he felt such fear in the presence of a man.
“I can’t, he’s...he’s my friend. I already had to put my son down. Don’t make me do this…”
“Harry, in case you are hard of hearing, let me repeat myself. We are at war. The men on this island are soldiers. This island has seen a lot of blood spilled over the decades and it will see much more. If you are not with us, you are against us. Mr Walker and I are going to stand outside this room with the guns. When you are done, you can come out. If you come out alone, you are free to stay here with us. If you do not...well you saw what I do to my enemies at the meeting earlier.”
Lazarus turned and left the room. Walker grinned at Harry and then followed him.
The door shut and Harry listened for the sound of footsteps, hoping they were bluffing, but there were none. Lazarus and Walker were waiting, as they said they would, right outside the room. Harry turned around to face Jackson. He still held the sword but lowered it to the floor. “Jackson I won’t do it. There must be another way,” he said.
Jackson could hear the desperation in Harry’s voice. “I’m sorry about your son, Harry, but at least you got to say goodbye.” Suddenly, Jackson fell to the floor and heaved. He spilled his guts on the floorboards. His vomit was mostly blood. He stayed there on his knees, unable to drag his body up again. “Tell everyone I said goodbye. I knew this was a one-way trip. Thank Tom for me. If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t have gotten half as far as we have. Tell...”
Harry watched sorrowfully as Jackson dry-retched three times, unable to bring anything else up from his empty stomach except bile and drops of dark, red blood.
“Do it quickly,” breathed Jackson. “Save Rosa. Save Laurent and Lenny. Do it quickly, Harry. Please.”
Harry felt the quiver of his throat and the spasms in his stomach as he fought the urge to let forth his own wretched vomit. He raised the sword and let it hover in the air just above Jackson’s bowed head. The three emeralds glimmered in the moonlight that shone through the window. Harry took in a deep breath. He raised the sword up high and tears formed in his eyes. “God bless you. Goodbye, Jackson.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mac and Jessica were behind the rose bushes, watching the gathering zombies from their secluded vantage point, when they heard the throb of an engine approaching. Alerted by the unusual noise, they looked for its source. They could not see the road though as the garden centre fence had been surrounded entirely by zombies. With no other action in Longrock, the dead had finally all found their way here.
“Who is that?” said Mac.
Jessica strained to see, but could only hear the rumble of the engine. “I don’t know, but I hope it’s Tom back with the others. Come on, we need to clear a path for him.”
Moira and Jimmy were on the other side of the centre. They heard the engine too just as Jessica came running up to them.
“We think it’s probably Tom. We need to clear a way through for him to get to the gate.”
“Probably? What if it’s not?” said Jimmy. “What if it’s someone else? We shouldn’t take chances, we need to be careful. You heard what Mac said about those guys. They took his two friends and never came back.”
“Shut up and help Jimmy,” said Moira. She had been sitting with him most of the day, monitoring the outside, making sure the dead did not get through the
fence. It was certainly wobbling with so many pressed up against it, but it was holding firm. Jimmy tried to talk to her, but she closed him down. She could tell he was weak. She pressed him about how he got out of his home earlier, but he wouldn’t say. He steadfastly refused to be drawn on his background or what he intended to do. He told her he wanted to stay with them, get to the boat and that was it. Moira had her suspicions that Jimmy played foul in finding them, but she had no proof. The more time she spent with him, the more repulsive she found him.
They ran back to Mac and picked up the assorted tools they had gathered there: shears, cutters, hammers and spades.
Jessica picked up a bow-saw. “Jimmy, you go alert the others, then get back here. Everyone else follow me.”
As Jimmy gratefully ran back inside, Jessica, Moira and Mac jogged over to a corner of the fence. The zombies were squashed against it, their hands and arms squeezing through the small gaps trying to get inside. Grotesque faces looked at the trio, teeth gnashing as they pressed harder against the fence.
“Let’s make some noise,” said Jessica, thrusting the bow-saw at an outstretched arm. The guillotined limb fell to the ground and Mac and Moira joined in. Mac jammed the ratchet loppers through the gaps in the fence, splintering skulls and bursting eyeballs. Moira took a claw-hammer to anything protruding into the garden centre. As they worked, they shouted and screamed, attracting more and more of the dead. Blood seeped under the fence and pooled at their feet. Occasionally, Mac would manage to jam the loppers through a zombie’s head and it would drop to the ground, finally at rest. Another immediately replaced it, however, and they kept up their war-cry, inflicting as much damage on the walking dead as they could.
“It’s working, guys, keep going!” shouted Heidi. She had raced out when Jimmy had told them Tom might be back with the others. Jimmy stayed inside, deciding he was better off inside in case of any problems out there surrounded by the dead.
Armed with a pair of long-handled shears, Heidi stood in the centre of the gardening section, watching as the zombies slowly swept around the fence toward the commotion on the far side. The engine noise suddenly increased and Heidi watched as an ambulance careered and slewed through the dead, their bodies exploding on impact. As blood and tissue rained down on the ambulance, it continued down the side of the fence, finally skidding to a halt just in front of the gate.
The driver’s door opened and Heidi saw a dumpy man get out. She stood by the gate holding the shears aloft. “Who are you?” she asked, aware they didn’t have much time before some of the zombies realised what was happening.
“Never mind that, just open the damn gate!” shouted Tom as he got out the other side, pointing a pistol at Honok.
A wave of relief washed over Heidi as she saw Tom, and she opened the gate. Tom pushed Honok through roughly and he fell to the ground. Heidi locked the gate quickly behind them, slamming the bolts into place before the dead could reach inside.
“Oh, Tom, I’m so pleased you’re back!” Heidi said throwing her arms around him.
“Me too,” said Tom before releasing Heidi. “This is Honok and he’s got a lot of explaining to do. Get inside.”
Tom waved the gun at the small man and they began walking inside. Mac, Moira and Jessica threw down their tools and rushed over to Tom, leaving the dead piled up at the fence.
“Where’s everyone else? What happened?” said Mac.
Tom looked at him. Mac was covered in gore, fresh blood dripping from his overalls. “Here, take this and get everyone inside,” he said giving Mac the gun.
As they trooped in, Tom took Jessica to one side. He paused by the door, out of sight of the zombies, watching as the others went in.
“Where’s Rosa?” Jessica asked nervously. She almost dare not ask. All she knew was that Rosa wasn’t here and that meant bad news.
“It’s not good, I’m afraid. We got to the Mount and found this dude. He was with another man, but I shot him. Harry and Jackson have gone over to the Mount trying to find her. I don’t really know what’s happened. I waited for them to come back, but...Rosa is quite probably in a lot of trouble. Honok is not a pleasant chap and the things he’s told me...look, I’ll fill you in with the rest inside, but whatever Honok says, take it with a pinch of salt. He’ll try to stir us up. He’s a piece of work, but I’ll sort him out. Just trust me, Jess, we’ll get her back, I promise.”
Jessica felt shell-shocked. She wanted to cry, scream, dance up and down on the spot, but most of all, she wanted Rosa back. Tom led her back inside where he found the others already interrogating Honok.
“Where are they? What did you do with my friends?” Mac was holding the gun to Honok’s head, furious and frustrated at the lack of response.
Honok was sat on the sofa and smiling. He could tell Mac was mad, but he wouldn’t shoot him. He wanted answers first. Honok had the power in this little game and he would drag it out as long as it took. “Your friends? I’m not sure...there are so many people on the Mount, I lose track. What were their names again?” he asked innocently.
“Sally and Keisha - the two girls you picked up outside here a few days ago. You know who I’m talking about, motherfucker.”
The room was quiet, waiting for Honok to answer. The group stood watching as Mac kept the gun pointed at Honok’s head.
“Oh those two,” Honok said exaggerating his words, as if he had only just remembered them. “Yeah, we fucked the white one and then killed her. I’m not sure about the nigger. I suspect she joined her friend in a watery grave. Next question?”
Tom grabbed the gun off Mac before he could pull the trigger. Mac was outraged and landed a punch squarely on Honok’s ugly squat face. Honok wiped the blood from his lip and laughed.
“What? Jealous? Hoping they’d come back for a little nigger-love, is that it?” said Honok sniggering.
Mac was well built and had spent his working days doing hard physical work. He raised his clenched fist again and punched Honok again. As he prepared to strike again, Tom held him back.
“Leave it, Mac, we’ll deal with him. We need to get some straight answers first. You can beat the living crap out of him later.”
Fuming, Mac stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“I’ll go,” said Christina, following Mac.
“Right, Honok, let’s try this again,” said Tom pointing the gun at Honok once more. “I need to talk to my friends, so you’re going to be quiet for a minute. Understood? When I’m through, I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer. Right?”
Honok snorted. “If you’re going to kill me, you may as well get it over with now. I’m not going to tell you anything, so go ahead, pull the trigger.”
Tom stared at Honok and then passed the gun to Moira. “Hold this, will you please, Moira?”
“With pleasure.” Moira sat on the worktop with the gun aimed squarely at Honok’s eyes.
She had not fired one before, but if it came to it, Tom knew she would not hesitate. He wiped the sweat from his brow and walked out of the restroom. Ten seconds later he came back in carrying a small pair of pliers. As he walked over to the sofa, the smile faded from Honok’s face. Tom crouched down before him so he could look directly into Honok’s eyes. He smelt bad and Tom wanted to throw him to the dead, but he couldn’t. First, he needed information.
“No one is going to be pulling any triggers for some time, Honok.” Tom waved the pliers in front of Honok’s concerned face. “I imagine these could be used for a variety of purposes, wouldn’t you say? I mean they’re so dexterous, so easy to use. I could probably pull out all your teeth before I even get to snapping off your fingers and toes. Not to mention any other small appendages on your body.”
Honok said nothing.
“Right, I’m glad we understand each other at last. Heidi, there’s plenty of rope out there, can you get some and bring it back here. Tie Mr Honok up nice and tight please. I don’t want him running off anywhere.”
> “Sure, Tom,” said Heidi. She touched his arm as she left.
“Tom, what the hell is going on?” said Jessica. “I feel like my heart is going to explode I’m so bloody worried. What happened?”
Tom nodded. “Sit down. I want everyone to know so just hold on a second.”
Jessica found a seat next to Caterina whilst Jimmy cowered in the corner, unsure what to make of this new stranger. Moira stayed where she was with the gun in her hands. Heidi reappeared with a bundle of rope and proceeded to tie Honok up with a grimace on her face. She bound his arms and legs tightly as Tom asked.
“He smells like dog shit,” she said as she bound his hands and feet.
Christina entered the room with Mac behind her.
“I’m cool, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill him, yet. I want some answers too,” said Mac, leaning against the wall. He crossed his arms and stared at Honok.
“Okay,” began Tom, “here’s what I can tell you. Harry and Jackson are on the Mount. We made it back to the van, managed to get hold of a few guns each from the back, and got out of Longrock. That was the easy part. I think all the zombies in the vicinity are here. Once we left the town, they thinned out and we hardly saw any. We saw some freaky shit on the way, but that’s another story. Once we found the ambulance, we waited. There was a tunnel over to the island so Harry and Jackson waited for a chance to get in.
“Honok and another man came out, so I started shooting. I shot the other one and led Honok away from the tunnel so Harry and Jackson could get in. They’re over there now. I pretended I was out of ammo and this sucker fell for it. We waited a while for Harry and Jackson in the ambulance, but they didn’t show. I persuaded Honok to drive us back here and so here we are.”
“So when are Harry and Jackson coming back?” asked Christina.
“And the others and Rosa, what about her?” Jessica felt as though she was going to throw up, so she stood up, just in case she had to run to the bathroom.
