Flowers Vs. Zombies: The Complete Series

by Perrin Briar

  Fruit grew on the trees they nurtured, but there was rarely enough for both the family and the native inhabitants—the animals that grazed on them. Recently there was a lot more fruit than usual. And now Bill thought about it, he realized he hadn’t seen the family of monkeys and apes that dotted the island in quite some time. Not since they helped defend the family against the horde of undead that plagued the island some months prior.

  Where had they gone? Bill wondered. Where had they disappeared to? Did they move to another part of the island where the pickings were easier? Or perhaps there was less competition where they now were, or they had a cyclical roster, moving around the island. Bill was not a zoologist. He did not know how animals behaved, but it was difficult to think they would give up such delicious year-round fruit.

  The family were doing the apes a service by replanting the seeds they spat out. Often, seeds dropped on hard slate, and would perish as they could not get their roots into the soil. The apes would have experienced a boom in fruit production since the Flowers had arrived.

  Nature was good, but it was very hit and miss. If the climate changed or the apes moved to another part of the island, there would be little chance the seeds could be planted, and so the plants had to ensure their fruit was the most delicious on the entire island.

  Animals and plant seeds were inextricably linked, and always would be, which was why the advent of humans and their intelligence was such an important development in the history of the planet.

  All the men had their shirts off and were sweating, their bodies glistening in the sunlight. They stopped to gulp a mouthful of water every twenty minutes to replenish what they had lost.

  It was Jack’s job to constantly ferry water from Falcon’s Nest to where they were currently working. It was not a long journey, but with the constant need to go back and forth, it became a longer and longer journey each time. The hardest part was bringing the water, the buckets full and heavy.

  Bill was impressed with Rupert and Manuel’s work ethic. They dug, cut, carried and installed like mad men, grunting and laying into the soil like they had a vendetta against it. Bill was glad they were on his side and not against them. They had the look of men who could not be stopped, no matter what was placed before them. They slowed down at times, when their muscles hurt and they could barely lift the tools, nevermind put them into action.

  They never stopped, not until Jack came with a cup of cool water. There was total and complete enjoyment on their faces. No doubt they hadn’t enjoyed a cup of such cool clean water in a long time, perhaps even since before the Incident. They took their time in drinking it, unlike Bill and Ernest and Fritz, who gulped it down in a single breath, and felt the coldness travel down their necks to their stomachs.

  The strangers even took the time to gaze at their cups after drinking, mopping up the drops of condensation with their lips.

  The early morning sunlight had beat at them, harsh as a whip in a cruel slave master’s unflinching grip. But thanks to the angle of the late morning sun, the sunlight was not as merciless as it had been.

  Finally, Liz came with their lunch. They would have sat down at the dining table to eat except Bill knew the terrible power of stuffing yourself in comfortable surroundings. He never worked hard in the afternoons those days. That was Liz’s plan sometimes when she thought Bill had worked hard enough already and the week was drawing to a close. Despite Bill’s protestations, Liz forced him to sit down and eat. And so he was more than a little disappointed when Liz came over with sandwiches. He wasn’t going to get off with just half a day of work today, it seemed.

  “How’s it going?” Liz said.

  “Well,” Bill said. “We’re doing about double the work we would normally have done.”

  “That’s great,” Liz said.

  “It is,” Bill said. “And I’m glad it’s the hardest part of the job I’m sharing.”

  “Good for you,” Liz said.

  “Yes,” Bill said. “They’re a great couple of workers.”

  “My ears are burning,” Rupert said as he sidled up to the pair. “Don’t tell me you’re hoarding all this food just for yourself.”

  “I was just about to bring them over,” Liz said.

  “Likely story,” Rupert said with a wink.

  He turned to Manuel, who was still working hard, beating at the earth like it was a mortal foe. It was the look of a man on a mission, a man who entered the boxing ring to take on whoever was there, and it didn’t matter how big or strong the opponent was. He was going to take them down. It was the mind of a man obsessed. And right now he was obsessed with the dirt at his feet, concerned how to move it and get it out of the way. That was his goal. That was what he had to do. That was his mission. That was what he needed to do if he wanted to survive. Bill wondered just how deeply he would have dug if no one had told him to stop. Probably to China, he thought.

  History was littered with such people: the soldier who threw himself on a grenade to save his friends and comrades, the man who fought against a gang of criminals to rescue an innocent elderly man. Such an impetus could be used for good, it could also be used for evil. But Manuel didn’t strike Bill as a bad sort at all.

  Despite Bill’s orders, Rupert and Manuel pushed themselves hard, evidently wishing to show just how much they wanted to thank Bill and his family for the kindness they had shown in taking them in. He could not have hoped for better workers. And all he had to pay them was food and water. Not a bad deal.

  Rupert looked upon the sandwiches with something approaching confusion.

  “Is something wrong?” Bill said. “If there’s something you’re allergic to, I’m sure we can find a replacement.”

  “Where’s the meat?” Rupert said stiffly.

  “We don’t have much left,” Liz said. “We have to ration it out.”

  “Things are that tight?” Rupert said.

  “It’s not about being tight,” Bill said. “But we have to remain sustainable. We can’t afford to consume more than we produce. Chaos leads that way.”

  “Why not catch more wildlife and farm more?” Rupert said.

  “We’ve caught as much as we’re able to sustain,” Bill said. “As for farming, we’re limited by the number of hours there are in the day. It’s difficult maintaining a consistent amount of food throughout the year. There’s more food at some times than others. We have to think forward and prepare for the long term.”

  “But now you have us,” Rupert said.

  “Yes,” Bill said. “Now we have you. And we’ll be able to scale up production. But it’ll take some time before we can produce on any real scale.”

  Rupert pursed his lips.

  “Until then we’re on a rabbit food diet,” he said. “Is that right?”

  Bill was taken aback by the brusqueness of the exchange. As having lived on a pirate ship and amongst the natives for so long, Bill would have thought they would be pleased to eat something clean, healthy and delicious.

  Bill began to see red.

  “That’s right,” he said. “We won’t eat beyond our means. There’s not just you to think about.”

  Rupert bit into his sandwich and chewed morosely, with as little relish as Bill had ever seen.

  Beggars can’t be choosers, Bill thought. But apparently they could.

  “While you’re here, you’re subject to our rules,” Bill said. “Everyone does their share of the work and eats their share of the food.”

  “You seem to have a lot more here than you’re letting on,” Rupert said.

  “Then you’re mistaken,” Bill said. “I already showed you our food stores, our medicine supplies.”

  Rupert finished his meal and looked at his plate like the food had up and vanished. He peered at the others’ food and looked tempted to steal it, but he sat back and let himself relax.

  “That was delicious,” Rupert said. “So good I could eat a barrel of it.”

  “I felt the same when we first got here,” Bill sai
d. “You get used to feeling a little hungry after a while.”

  “I’m not sure I want to get used to it,” Rupert said. “You have lots of food. It wouldn’t hurt to fatten up the plate a little more, would it?”

  “We live a sustainable lifestyle,” Bill said. “Everything we eat can be grown and replaced the following day. In case we have a disaster, or something else goes wrong.”

  “You ought to live more for the moment,” Rupert said. “Live and eat and enjoy while you can.”

  “We’re in this for the long haul,” Bill said. “We don’t expect to drop dead anytime soon. We all expect to live long fruitful lives.”

  “Fruitful, but not full of fruit,” Rupert said around a grin. “But you could drop dead tomorrow. Wouldn’t you feel better knowing you lived every day the best you could?”

  “No,” Bill said. “I wouldn’t. Because if I die, at least I would know my family would have enough food to carry on without me. They can survive, because we took these measures.”

  Rupert smiled. It didn’t touch his eyes.

  “Right,” he said.

  “Besides, it’s enough food for what we do every day,” Bill said. “We only need enough to get by.”

  “Life is about more than just getting by,” Rupert said. “Life is about living.”

  “Living isn’t what it used to be,” Bill said.

  “You’re telling me,” Rupert said with a glance at his plate.

  “Vegetables are easier to grow and require a lot less effort and food,” Bill said. “They also grow and replenish faster than meat.”

  “Yes,” Rupert said. “But meat is meat.”

  “We’re not bending on this point,” Bill said flatly, a dangerous glint in his eye.

  Rupert held up his hands, sensing he was in a losing position.

  “Hey,” he said. “The last thing I want to do is ruin the delicate balance you guys have here. I’ll just have to get used to the way things are, that’s all. Time to resume our backbreaking labor.”

  He smiled and hefted his shovel onto his shoulder. He marched back to the pit and began digging once again.

  Bill and Liz shared a look but said nothing.

  Chapter Twelve

  DINNER THAT evening was little better in Rupert’s eyes. He didn’t say anything that led to that conclusion, but it was obvious in the way he ate, as if it was made of rubber, paying no attention to the hurt look in Liz’s eyes. She took offence to the way they weren’t counting their blessings, to the effort she had put into making their meals.

  Bill could understand Rupert and Manuel, and though Manuel never voiced an opinion on the subject, Bill got the feeling he would always take his friend’s side in any argument. They had worked hard all day, only to now be given a meal that, to Rupert’s mind, was his payment for that work.

  Bill would be unyielding when it came to the protection and preservation of his family and their foodstores. He wouldn’t let a little complaining change their survival plan and policy.

  Manuel wouldn’t have eaten any differently if he was eating a Michelin Star meal, Bill was quite certain of that. He always had the look of a man who had just woken up, his bedhead hair fuzzy and sticking on end, something no mere comb would even attempt to tame.

  “I can try to find something else to cook up,” Liz said.

  “Would you?” Rupert said. “That would be most appreciated.”

  “No,” Bill said.

  Bill took the worst of the sting out of his voice and put on a smile to soften the blow. But it was a blow nonetheless.

  “Would you prefer nothing?” Bill said.

  A change came over Rupert then, a flicker behind the eyes and, Bill thought, from the depths of his soul, where the real identity of humanity resided.

  “No,” Rupert said. “But after the hard work today, myself and Manuel would have thought we would get more than a few vegetables. I place no blame on your wonderful wife. She’s clearly a great cook to be able to make anything we eat on this island edible. But we’re men. We need more.”

  “We told you, we have a sustainable system of eating food,” Bill said. “Would you prefer to eat a lot today and nothing tomorrow?”

  “There’s a lot of wildlife out there in the jungle,” Rupert said. “We could set traps and catch them.”

  “You work no harder than any of the rest of us,” Bill said.

  Rupert pursed his lips and looked about ready to argue the point. Then the darkness, or whatever was buried deep inside him, began to recede, and it was like the tide going out to reveal a beautiful treasure at the bottom of the sea.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Apologies. I forgot myself. It was a long day. The sun must have frazzled my brains. We’re grateful for everything we get, really.”

  And just like that, the situation was defused, and the affable, amiable Rupert had returned. Did this guy have two personalities?

  Rupert bent down to finish off the rest of his meal. He was careful not to show too much enthusiasm, but there was a cloud over the dinner table now, and it was difficult to ignore.

  “We’re making good progress on the wall defense system, aren’t we?” Rupert said, seemingly unaware of the atmosphere. “I feel really good about what we’re doing here.”

  There were nods of agreement, but no one added to the conversation. They concentrated on their meals. The boys were the first to finish. They left the dinner table and climbed the ladder to Robin’s Nest.

  “Would you care to see Jim?” Bill said. “I’m about to go up and take him his soup.”

  “Sure,” Rupert said.

  He followed Bill, Manuel in his wake. At the base of Robin’s Nest, Rupert turned to Manuel and held up a hand.

  ”Not you, Manuel,” he said. “You stay here.”

  Manuel had a look on his face like he’d just been chastened. He stood on the spot and didn’t move an inch.

  “Is he safe to be on his own?” Bill said.

  “He’s safer than anyone you ever met,” Rupert said.

  Bill got the feeling they were talking at cross purposes. Bill meant the safety of his family. Rupert was thinking only about the ability to control Manuel.

  Over the ages, many enemies had been overcome and defeated, despite their superior numbers and strength, by a smart opponent who knew the terrain more intimately than their aggressors. In that way Manuel was like an undead. He didn’t think for himself. The difference was he had a master in Rupert, whose orders he unerringly obeyed.

  All the time Bill had spent alone had made him introspective. It had done the same to all of them, making them slower in decision making, less rash. With none of the distractions of a modern life there was nothing to hinder their thought processes.

  “I’m sorry about the scene at dinner,” Rupert said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Bill said. “We were the same—worse, in fact—when we first arrived here.”

  “Yes,” Rupert said. “But you’re a family and it’s easier to forgive each other.”

  Bill wouldn’t deny the truth of that, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

  “You’re a part of the family now,” Bill said. “Or will be, if you want the job.”

  “It would be an honor,” Rupert said. “What role would I play, I wonder?”

  “The cantankerous uncle,” Bill said with a grin.

  Rupert flashed an identical grin back at him.

  “That sounds about right, doesn’t it?” he said. “It was a role I was born to play.”

  Bill reached up for the ladder’s first rung. He flinched as the pained muscles he’d overexerted during the day antagonized him.

  “All right there, partner?” Rupert said.

  “Yes,” Bill said. “Think I just overreached myself today.”

  “I know that feeling,” Rupert said, probing his own body.

  But he didn’t look like he was in any pain at all. In fact, he looked more spry and able-bodied
than ever.

  “After you,” Rupert said.

  Bill began to scale the ladder. He was glad for the young blooded men. As Bill entered his later years, he would want to slow down and let others do the work he really shouldn’t still be carrying out. He was getting old, the prime years of his life behind him. Rupert was perhaps five to eight years younger than himself, and it showed.

  Bill knew himself. That was something good that came with age, at least. He knew he would never stop. Slow down, yes. Not intentionally, but it was a natural process, something that would happen whether he wanted it to or not. In a few short years he would be fifty, and then it would be all downhill. He was a doctor and knew the weaknesses that would claim him.

  There would be the general slowing of the system, sagging and weakening of the skin and muscles. For a man to lose his strength was to lose a part of himself. The sudden influx of patients after the age of sixty was breathtaking, as if the human body already knew it was ready to give up the ghost and let the next generation take over. A human was always in a period of transition, he knew. It was what separated them from their nearest ape cousins.

  Bill pulled himself up into the treehouse, one careful move after another. He didn’t want to slip and fall now. He helped Rupert up after he had planted his feet.

  Ernest sat in the corner of the treehouse, nose buried in a book, as always. But he at least had the decency to look tired after the difficult day they had all had. If he was concerned about being interrupted, he didn’t show it.

  As Jim had taken possession of Ernest’s bed, Ernest now lay in Fritz’s bed. Bill could imagine the argument that would develop. Ernest didn’t seem too bothered.

  Jim lay prostrate, perfectly still. The family members took turns in turning him over in order to avoid bedsores.