The Last Invasion

by Aline Riva

  Suddenly hope shone in Vicki's eyes as she turned to Christian with a sudden thought.

  “Maybe there's something in the serum you can use to help Marc.”

  Christian paused for thought.

  “The dose I gave to Flint was far too high... at the diluted state a small amount may eliminate what it perceives as enemy tissue.... I don't know. It would be a huge risk. I know Marc doesn't have the bite virus but if that stuff at a low dose cleans out unwanted alterations within the body... maybe. I'd have to work on this, and Marc would need to think very carefully about the risk factor involved... if he makes it back.”

  Those words filled Zodiac's heart with dread.

  “Is my Dad coming back?” he demanded, letting go of his mother as she stood up and he looked pleadingly at her, desperately wanting to hear the word yes.

  Cleo shook her head.

  “I don't know, I hope so,” she said as her face paled again.

  “I need to watch the beach,” Zodiac told her, then he ran from the kitchen and darted up the stairs, heading for his room, where he pulled back the curtain and watched the rain lashed world outside as little could be seen in the distance save for the odd flash of lightning that lit up the dark terrain. He pressed his hand to the glass, his translucent eyes not leaving the sight of the darkened sea wall.

  “Please be okay, I love you, Daddy,” he whispered.

  Outside as the rain fell, the storm was moving off, the thunder becoming distant as flashes of lightning became flickers in the distance. Parsons, Greg and Marc had reached the open gateway that led to the other side of the sea wall. Dead hands were clawing at the edge, several creatures had already made the climb.

  They ran for the shelter of an alcove, set the box on a bench then Marc and Greg drew their guns and began to take shots below, picking off the undead climbers one by one.

  “Look out!” Marc yelled.

  Greg turned, seeing nothing, but as Parsons also turned and a dead hand reached for his shoulder as an oil covered creature snarled, he swung the gun, letting fly a stream of bullets that knocked the zombie off its feet. Greg stood closer to the edge now, firing off shots at the zombies who had battled the tide and made it to the beach. Now the shore was littered with bodies – but more were washing in with the violent sea.

  “We have to act fast!” Marc called from the alcove, “They won't have a wild tide to delay them much longer, the storm's moving off!”

  Greg had unwrapped the box beneath the shelter and drawn out three large rockets.

  “One of us needs to go to the sand, aim them low so they hit the slick,” he said.

  “I'll do it,” Marc replied, “Parsons can cover me.”

  Greg stared at him in disbelief.

  “It's too dangerous, you're way too sick to take a risk like that -”

  “I have nothing to lose!” Marc yelled.

  Parsons fired off two more shots, picking off bedraggled creatures that had clawed their way up through the rolling surf. A large wave hit, washing the bodies back out to sea as more oily creatures moaned and snarled, lashing out in the water as it carried them forwards, then tugged them back again, each time the tide moved, it brought them closer to the shore.

  “Greg,” Parsons said, beckoning to him, “I have a better idea... This way...”

  Marc looked on in confusion as Parsons led Greg to the open gateway.

  “What's the plan?” Greg demanded, “because as I see it, we have no time for more plans, we just have to light the rockets and stop them!”

  “I'm thinking about the fire and the wind,” Parsons replied, “As soon as that oil ignites, we have an inferno and the wind is blowing it right at us. Who ever goes down to that beach has seconds to drop, roll and get inside the hollow under the steps. That's if more undead don't land first...”

  More shots rang out as Marc picked off two more creatures that had made it to the sand.

  “I can do that!” Greg insisted.

  “You could,” Parsons replied, “But you also have kids at home.”

  He slammed his fist into his face, Greg fell backwards, landing on the grass at the top of the hill, knocked out cold. Parsons dragged him up against the outside of the wall, where he hoped he would be sheltered from the flames when they rose.

  “Sorry, Greg,” he said as he looked down at him, “You're not leaving your wife and kids without a father. Like Marc, I also have nothing to lose – mainly because I have no one to leave behind.”

  Marc had looked out of the gate, seen Greg knocked out and as Parsons turned back, he nodded.

  “You did the right thing. Now let's burn these fuckers!”

  The two men went back through the gateway. An oil coated creature sprang from the ledge below, lunging at Marc as he fired off shots, the bullets made the creature stagger back, and a head shot from Parsons sent it tumbling over the edge. They ran for the shelter once more, firing off more shots at the zombies emerging from the sea. The moon was breaking through the dispersing cloud as the rain fall stopped, there were hundreds of the creatures being tossed about on the angry tide, soon it would calm and they would all be carried inland.

  They grabbed the rockets and made for the steps, as they ran down Marc slipped on rain drenched sea weed, fell heavily and pain shot through his back. He felt a wave of panic as he looked up at the clearing skies and the snarls of the dead echoed about the rolling water close by.

  Parsons was down on the beach by now.

  “Can you get up?” he called back as he began to jab the rockets into the soil, aiming low and spacing them apart, as he could only hope they would ignite in the damp conditions, shoot low and explode over the slick.

  “No!” Marc called back as he used his hands to push himself down the steps further, every jolt was agony and sent pain shooting up his spine. Marc looked to the sand below. It was only a couple of steps now. He rolled off the edge, landed in the damp sand on his side and gave a groan of pain, then began to crawl towards the hollow beneath the steps. It was his only hope of safety when the fireball hit, but the pain made every movement slow and he had rolled as he landed – away from the hollow. Just then he heard a cry, it was a sharp cry that he knew too well and he looked to the lower part of the beach in horror. Two creatures had emerged from the surf, they were shining, oily shadows by moonlight and one had Parsons by the throat as the other closed in, gnashing teeth and snarling. Parsons aimed a wild shot as he struggled, hitting the first creature in the face as it fell back into the surf with a splash. The second one lunged, gripping his shoulders. As he sank to his knees, he turned his head.

  “Light the rockets!” he yelled to Marc, then he screamed as the creature bit deep into his shoulder, then raised its head, jaws dripping blood.

  Marc's aim was shaky as he fired off a shot, the bullet hit the zombie in the back and it bit down again, ripping out his throat. Marc fired another shot, then another as tears ran down his face. As the final shot took the back of the creature's head off, it slumped on top of Parson's body.

  Another zombie was rising from the surf, jerking in its movements as it waded in from the sea. More were coming now, carried in and out on the heavy tide and growing closer to hitting land... Marc fired again. His gun clicked, then clicked again as he gave the trigger another squeeze. He was out of bullets. He slumped down on to the sand, tossing aside the useless gun. He turned his head and saw the creature open its mouth as it gave a snarl and then it began to pick up pace as it headed for him. Marc closed his eyes. This was it, this was how he died...

  Then a shot rang out, taking the zombie in the side of its head as it fell hard. Marc stared at the sight of the dead creature, then he heard someone running down the steps. A man was standing over him, his coat tails were catching on the wind as it blew in strongly from the sea and his polished shoes were covered in damp sand. He looked up to see Greg looking down at him, already a bruise was forming on his cheek.

  “He didn't hit me hard enough, let's light those ro
ckets!” he said, then he grabbed Marc by the collar, roughly dragging him towards the hollow.

  “Sorry, mate,” he said as Marc gave a cry of pain, “There's no time to waste!”

  As Marc was pushed, then rolled into the darkness of the damp hollow beneath the steps, he caught his best friend's sleeve.

  “The wind will blow the flames right back at you!”

  “Then I'd better run!” Greg replied, then he was gone, leaving Marc injured and lying inside the hollow beneath the steps as he blinked away tears, wondering if he would ever see his best friend again.

  Back at the house, Cleo was in the front room watching from the window as she looked into the darkness, but could see nothing from where she stood, just the sea wall and the night sky as the weather began to ease up. She and Vicki had taken Flint's body and dumped it outside, Christian had cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and while he was doing that, he had been considering the theory that the remainder of the serum might be able to help Marc. As he had no bite virus infection, using a tiny amount heavily diluted might possibly clean out his system of anything the serum saw as abnormal. It would be risky, but it was worth a shot... It would also use up more of the serum, leaving very little of the small amount that remained for testing and possible future reproduction. But perhaps it would be worth a shot. Ultimately, that choice would be up to Marc...

  Zodiac had grown weary of looking out at the darkness and seeing no sign of his father. He crept down the stairs and hurried to the front door, reached for the bottom bolt and struggled. It slid back heavily with a thud that echoed about the hallway. Cleo came running out from the front room with Lula in her arms.

  “Get in here NOW!” she yelled.

  Zodiac gave a heavy sigh and followed his mother into the front room, where he went over to the window, looking out once more.

  “I just want my Dad back. I want to help him out there!”

  “That's the very last thing he would want you to do!” Cleo said firmly, then she sat down with Lula and Zodiac could feel her eyes set on him – he stood no chance of sneaking out of the house tonight.

  John Mundy had left the office and locked it, then, armed with a machine gun, had began to walk along the lonely road that ran opposite the sea wall. Flint was still on his mind. The town looked eerie in the darkness, with lights out along a wide strip of houses that faced the sea. The wind was whistling, the rain had stopped but on that whistle of the wind, he thought he heard something else. He stopped walking, listening as the wind blew his hair and made his long coat flap back. The moans were coming from the other side of the sea wall, they sounded mixed with the roll of the tide...

  He thought about Greg's warning and broke into a run, taking the steps set into the hillside, reaching the low sea wall fast and leaping up on to it. He looked down to see Greg Fitzroy firing off shots at the undead as they lumbered from the sea, there were three rockets aimed low in the sand. A short distance away, Parson's dead body was beneath a zombie that had been killed with a head shot. There was no time to ask to ask questions, that sea was filled with a huge oil slick.

  “Greg!” he called down, and Greg looked up as he turned from the rockets, “I'll cover you,” yelled John, “Get ready to dive for shelter when the oil goes up!”

  “I'm ready!” Greg called back.

  A sharp snarl sounded as undead dragged their feet through wet sand. The machine gun fired off a volley of shots and they fell as John stayed in position, stood on the sea wall with the weapon ready to pick off more that made it out of the water before the fuses were lit.

  Greg leaned close to the sand, struggling as he lit the petrol lighter as he shielded it from the wind, then he touched the flame to one fuse, then the next, then the last, and as the fizz began and the burn chased up the fuses, he ran, back past the lit fireworks and towards the hollow.

  A zombie rose up sharply, staggering towards him. John fired off more shots and it fell, Greg leapt over the body and ran on, his sights set on the hollow. He slipped in the sand, then a cold, dead a hand closed about his ankle and he kicked out, kicking off the rotted face of an undead creature that had crawled up from the surf. Its lower body was missing and rotted entrails slithered with it as it moved snakelike, snarling as it reached for him. He aimed his gun but Mundy was there first with a shot to the head that hit with such force the creature rolled off him. Greg scrambled to his feet. The rockets let fly with a fizz and a whoosh and he made for the hollow, knowing any moment it could be over, any moment now those rockets would explode.

  “Hurry!” he heard Marc shout from beneath the steps.

  John Mundy jumped down from the wall, landing on the outside of it, then ducking as the rockets exploded, sending a shower of fireworks across the sea. The sparks rose, fell, the ignited rockets met with oil and the sea was ablaze in seconds, fanned by the wind, the blaze that burned the screeching zombies rose and carried at speed to the beach, flashing up against the sea wall, rising over it and then subsiding as out at sea, the waters burned, taking the undead with it as the inferno took care of the horde.

  Back at the house, the others had watched in shocked silence as the fireball rose and rushed at the beach, then rose above the sea wall before retreating again. An eerie glow was lighting up the night sky beyond the wall as the sea burned and the skies reflected amber with its hellish glow.

  “Oh god no...” Cleo whispered as tears filled her eyes.

  “Did they make it?” Vicki said as her voice trembled.

  Christian said nothing, knowing anyone exposed on that beach would have been killed as the fire had flashed up.

  “Is my Dad okay?” Zodiac said as tears streaked his face.

  “I don't know,” Cleo whispered, “I just don't know...” then she gave a sob and Vicki put her arms around her as the women wept together.

  Zodiac stood there in defiance, watching the fire glow lighting the skies beyond the sea wall as he waited, desperate to see his father walk out of the open gate. But he saw no one. Now his eyes were filling with tears. He thumped his fist on the window in frustration as he refused to accept the worst had happened out there. But there was nothing, no one leaving the beach. It was just sky reflecting the burning seas below.

  “No, Daddy, NO!” he yelled as tears spilled down his face.

  Chapter 10 : Fifteen Years Later:

  As the fishing boat headed for home, a young man in his early twenties stood on deck looking over the side as Wolfsheer Island grew smaller in the distance. His hair was snowy white and spiked, his eyes were translucent and he had a night's stubble on his face from the task of clearing the zombies from the island. He was dressed in black, his long leather coat blew back in the breeze as the boat went onwards. He wore a diamond stud in his ear, this was Zodiac Fitzroy, the man they called Zombie Slayer. He and his sister had just picked off every undead creature on that island, it had taken hours, but the place was now ready for clearing out, cleaning up, and then, those who wanted to leave the ever growing town of Circus for a place more rural, would have somewhere new to go.

  His fifteen year old sister Lula was driving the boat, her long white hair was tied back in a pony tail and she kept her eyes on the route ahead, thinking now of home. To know Wolfsheer would soon be habitable again would be wonderful news, especially to those who remembered the place.

  On the deck, a young woman stood beside Zodiac. Unlike him or his sister, she was not undetectable to zombies, because she was human, and so had to stay on the boat while they cleared the island. Her name was Sarah, and she had been resident of Circus for almost a year now, after leaving a colony up in Scotland to rejoin other Wolfsheer survivors. But now she was beside him, the sunlight bouncing off her long fair hair as she listened to the rest of his tale:

  “Yeah, that was the night my Dad saved the town. I remember pounding on that window, screaming for my Daddy... I thought he was dead. But it turns out he dived into that hollow and landed on my Uncle Marc,” he laughed, shaking his head at the m
emory, “They felt the heat but the fire flashed and retreated and they crawled out of there and John helped them both up the steps and then down the hillside. My Dad was okay, Marc had a broken arm and bruising to his spine. All of that was fixed when Christian used the experimental serum two weeks later. He was right about the low dose heavily diluted. It destroyed the tumour and repaired his wounds. That's why he's still alive today.”

  The waves sparkled as the sun hit the water and she smiled.

  “Greg Fitzroy, the town's hero – your father.”

  “He couldn't have done it without John,” Zodiac reminded her, “He kept him covered while he lit the fuse....” then he fell silent, lost in thought for a moment.

  “It was a sad day when they buried Emma and Parsons. Serena turned up the day after the sea burned. She rowed in to find her husband was gone. So she took a boat back to the colony, where you and the other kids were living and she decided to stay.”

  “That was definitely the best thing for her,” Sarah agreed, “She became our school teacher. She still lives and works there.”

  “As for Crazy Alex Casper,” Zodiac continued, “He was heartbroken after Emma died. But then John had this great idea to introduce him to a lady named Kara who was desperate to have a virus kid, he was desperate to start another family and so they got together,” he laughed, “They live on the other side of town now, up by the new schools. Which is a good thing, they ended up having five children together!”

  As the boat continued on its way, Zodiac stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they watched the start of the familiar coast line appear.

  “Why did we take the long way to Wolfsheer?” she asked, “I'd never seen an oil rig before, but wow, that was a sight, all burned out.”

  “Because I wanted you to see the route my father took,” he replied, “when him and others fled the mainland in the beginning. My dad was so badly bitten escaping the rig, Uncle Marc didn't think he would make it. But he survived and those bites were deep enough to make him bite virus positive, that's how I came to exist.”