by Perrin Briar
“No problem,” Bill said, though he did think it strange. But he wouldn’t raise the subject now. “I need to give you both some medical attention.”
Bill opened his doctor’s bag of tricks and began administering care.
“As for my story,” Rupert said, blowing through his lips. “Where do I even begin?”
“Try from the beginning,” Bill said.
“That’s the difficulty,” Rupert said. “There are so many beginnings, so many ways the story could begin… But I’ll begin as far back as I can. The story of how we got to be here begins in the same place as it begins for all of us, I suspect. On the day of the Incident.”
“You mean, the day the world turned crazy?” Liz said.
“That’s the one,” Rupert said.
Then he blinked.
“You haven’t heard this terminology before?” he said. “The Incident? It’s pretty widespread. Where have you been?”
“Right here,” Bill said.
“This whole time?” Rupert said.
He peered around at the treehouse and out the windows at the surrounding landscape.
“It could have been much worse,” he said.
“We know how lucky we are,” Liz said. “Tell us your story. In truth, it feels strange to be talking to someone new. You’re the only other people we’ve seen who still have a pulse.”
“Yes,” Rupert said. “We’re all accustomed to those beasts. I worked in security systems before the Incident, when the world decided it didn’t have need of us any longer. I was at a conference in Japan. I can’t even really remember what it was about now. Funny how you remember some things while others slip your mind completely, isn’t it? At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world. I thought I might get a promotion out of it.”
He shook his head at the memory.
“And now here I am, fighting to survive,” he said. “I can’t complain though. I prefer myself the way I am now, not that I can say that about the world we live in.”
He hissed through his teeth and pulled back from Bill. He glared at him.
“It’s the iodine,” Bill said. “It will sting. I’m just about done with you now.”
Bill turned to Manuel, who glared at him the way a feral dog would.
“He’s just trying to help you, Manuel,” Rupert said.
But Manuel’s expression did not change. He only relaxed when Bill stepped away.
“You need medical attention,” Bill said. “But I won’t force you if you don’t want it.”
“It’s no good talking to him,” Rupert said. “Give me the medicine. I’ll make sure he uses it later.”
Bill didn’t like to hand over their medical supplies.
“This is the only bottle of iodine we’ve got,” he said.
There was a flash in Rupert’s eyes then, a blink that was there one second and gone the next, so fast Bill thought he’d imagined it.
“Don’t worry,” Rupert said. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get spilled.”
Bill hesitated a moment longer before handing it over.
“Sleeping arrangements,” Liz said. “How are we going to do this?”
“We don’t want to put you out,” Rupert said. “We’ll sleep outside.”
“No, you won’t,” Bill said. “Unless you have your heart set on becoming a lunch dinner.”
“You have Lurchers here?” Rupert said.
“We do,” Bill said. “We’ve removed most of them, but there are still those wandering around.”
“I’d have thought you would be free of them,” Rupert said.
“Unfortunately not,” Bill said. “We had a ship, a cruise liner, get shipwrecked on the shore. We’ve had them ever since.”
“Poor you,” Rupert said. “That’s the benefit of being at sea. The undead can’t sail, so they can’t touch us. But of course, you can hardly consider yourself safe when you’re on board a ship full of pirates.”
“Pirates?” Bill said. “There are pirates around?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t seen them,” Rupert said. “They sail past these islands all the time. We sailed past not long ago. That’s how I got to be here. During the outbreak, I made it to a port on the Japanese coast. God knows what the name of it was. I got talking to a bunch of people, one of which was Manuel. He might not look it, but he is a terrific salesman. Or was, at least. The Incident had a big impact on him, seeing all that death, destruction and mayhem… It’s enough to make anyone go nuts.
“The undead attacked us in short order, and only Manuel and I escaped. We were befriended by some English-speaking Japanese people, and they took us to another port. We managed to get on board a boat and cast off. There was little we knew about sailing, but suddenly we were safe. There were maybe a dozen of us in total. We didn’t head from the land at first, and returned when there weren’t any of those creatures around.
“We scabbed food, water, supplies, anything we could get our hands on. But then one of them saw us and stayed on the beach. He wouldn’t leave. Worse, he was noisy and kept attracting others to him. They stood at the sea’s edge, watching us, waiting for us to return to the land to get food and supplies. But we didn’t. We couldn’t. So, we headed farther out to sea, out of sight of those monsters, heading south where we could do more pillaging in peace.
“We became more confident on the open sea, taking our time and heading farther out each time we cast off. I’d never sailed before, save once at a summer adventure camp when I was a kid. It wasn’t my kind of thing and I’d never done it again since. It’s funny how interested in things you become when your very survival depends on the skills you nurture.
“Things carried on like that for a while, until we ran into a large galleon ship, looking like something from the middle ages. It was an impressive sight, that thing. There were undead hanging from the prow. The zombies were still alive, just hanging there to break the waves. The captain was a woman called Ching Shih. We knew immediately we were in trouble. We knew then that our luck had run out.
“Ching Shih brought us all onto the deck of her ship. We were made an offer—to join her crew or be thrown overboard. Not surprisingly, everyone wanted to join. Unfortunately, there were too many of us. So, she held trials, games, to find the strongest sailors, the best fighters. The rest were tossed overboard.
“Success was only temporary, as there were always new recruits, and if you didn’t serve a purpose, didn’t work hard, you were knifed or garroted or simply thrown overboard by one of the crew. Many men died after a fight broke out over a mop once. If you did not have an occupation, no matter how low, you were not of value. It sorted the weak from the strong, and only the strong could survive on board The Red Flag.
“We went pillaging for the captain, hitting communities that paid us a bounty to stay out of their way. Communities are popping up like termites. There’s no keeping down the human race once it gets going. Whatever was wrong before is on its way out. A new dawn is coming, and it’s going to be beautiful.
“There was only one good man amongst the senior crew, and that was the first mate. We called him Smee. God knows what his real name was. He was kind and good, the only one who Ching Shih listened to. It was with him that Jim was cabin boy to. He had a cushy deal—much better than anything the rest of us had. A bed in Smee’s quarters, food, the whole nine yards.
“But then Smee died—from a heart attack, some said. Without Smee’s protection, who knows what would become of the lowly Jim? And so he ran away, with us, and we escaped to sea.
“No sooner had we escaped than we were captured again, this time by an indigenous tribe. You made their acquaintance. They spoke of demons walking amongst them, warriors from hell who would not die, warriors who kept coming at them, no matter how many times they beat them with their weapons and shot them with their arrows.
“They blamed the white man, of course. It is always our fault, no matter what the truth is. Blame it on our colonial past. Though we
can’t deny our past, we can say it was many years ago. We should not be held accountable for the actions of our ancestors.
“According to them, we were to blame for the sudden reanimation of their dead. We tried to explain it was happening all over the world, but it was no good. We were to blame, and that was it. There is no convincing someone after they have already made up their mind about what they think. They locked us in cages of bamboo. But even that wasn’t so bad, compared to Ching Shih’s deck.
“We heard snippets about a ‘Holy Island’, about how they were going to make a ‘sacrifice’. That was when we knew we were in real trouble. You can’t know the horror of such a situation till you experience it. We tried everything we could to get out of our cage, but we couldn’t get out. And then they took us out. Suddenly we wanted back in.
“The whole village had come to watch. They tied us up and beat us if we resisted, and dragged us to their canoes, where they loaded us up and rowed to this island. That’s when you came upon us.”
“And a good thing we did,” Bill said. “We almost didn’t, and could have easily missed you.”
“You didn’t need to help us at all,” Rupert said. “Don’t think I’ll forget that anytime soon.”
“Get some rest,” Bill said. “It’s been a long day for you. We’ll take turns keeping watch tonight. You just rest. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re very kind,” Rupert said. “We don’t want to impose, so we’ll stay wherever you have room.”
“How about the stables?” Liz said. “It’s warm and dry, quiet. If you sleep in the loft, there won’t be any smell either.”
“Sounds good to me,” Rupert said.
“How do you want to handle the watch tonight?” Liz said to Bill.
“We’ll keep a watch,” Bill said. “All night.”
“All right,” Liz said.
“We’ll take our turn too,” Rupert said. “We’re no slouches.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Bill said. “You concentrate on healing.”
With Bill’s help Rupert got to his feet, picked up the medicine, and headed with Manuel toward the ladder. Neither of them required help from the other. It wouldn’t take long for them to make a full recovery. Bill was certain of that.
Manuel was short and stout, his hair dirty, his body and arms thick as tree trunks. Rupert was taller, leaner, but hard as nails. They would make good allies in any battle they might have to face.
Bill turned to Liz and lowered his voice.
“We’ll listen to what the boys have to say,” he said. “If they don’t see anything by nightfall, then we’ll never see the natives in the dark. They’re expert hunters, well used to this kind of environment. If they don’t want to get seen, they won’t be.”
“Then no watch tonight?” Liz said.
“Not tonight,” Bill said. “We’ll all need our rest for tomorrow.”
“Then why did you say we would keep watch all night a minute ago?” Liz said.
“Because I don’t want them to think we’re being complacent,” Bill said.
“Them who?” Liz said.
“Rupert and Manuel,” Bill said.
“I don’t understand,” Liz said. “Why would that make them think we’re being complacent?”
“Because they’re new,” Bill said. “We don’t know who they are or what they’re doing here. Who knows what their motives might be.”
Liz was surprised to find Bill was right. They were new, and they didn’t know who they were. She was just pleased to see someone new, like a breath of fresh air. Liz had forgotten to turn on her stranger filter. She shouldn’t trust anyone unless they had proven themselves.
They made contact with the boys and told them to go to bed. Ernest would have to sleep on a pile of blankets on the floor of Robin’s Nest. He didn’t complain. None of them did. They were good boys.
But sometimes being good wasn’t the best route to survival. Sometimes you had to be ruthless. A concept the family were soon to learn.
Chapter Six
THE NEXT MORNING, Bill woke Liz up with gentle kisses to her exposed shoulder. She was a beautiful woman, a fact Bill never failed to take the opportunity to enjoy. Liz smiled, rolled over to face him and nudged his chest with her nose.
“Good morning,” Bill said.
“Morning,” Liz said.
She extended her arms and stretched her whole body. Then she settled back into bed, nuzzling up close to Bill.
“How long have you been up?” Liz said.
“Not long,” Bill said. “Ten minutes.”
Soft early morning sunlight was already breaching the gap between the curtains. Liz let it shine in her eyes.
“What have you been thinking about?” Liz said.
Bill had his customary scowl he wore whenever he was in deep thought on a particular subject.
“We’re never going to survive here in the long term if we don’t grow,” Bill said. “If we don’t get new blood in here, if we don’t start building a community, we’re doomed. This could be our chance to start building. We got lucky, finding two strong guys right off the bat. We know what we’re doing now. We know how to survive here. We know the island. Don’t you see? If more people come, if there’s enough of us, we’ll be able to start again, to build a village, a town, use all the skills and knowledge of everyone we can gather to build a better place—for all of us.”
“It’s a big dream,” Liz said.
“It’s for all of us,” Bill said.
“You’re right,” Liz said. “But it’s not going to be much of a community if there are just men here.”
“We need women,” Bill said, nodding.
“Yes,” Liz said. “And when we have time, we will have to look into finding ways we can find and bring them here.”
“The natives, maybe?” Bill said.
“I’m not sure Rupert and Manuel could find it in themselves to have a relationship with the natives,” Liz said. “Could you, if you had almost been beheaded by them?”
“No,” Bill said. “I suppose not. And there’s no telling how the natives might react when they return to their village and tell them about us. They might come here. I’m sorry I brought all this down on us.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Liz said. “We don’t know how it’s going to work out yet. Maybe something good will come of all this. And besides, you did the right thing in helping them.”
“Maybe,” Bill said. “But there’s a chance it won’t be the very best thing for us.”
“Like I said,” Liz said. “Let’s play it by ear. The good news is, you’ve got us to help you. We’ll do everything we can. You just need to lead us.”
“I know,” Bill said. “That’s the only reason I believe we can do this. Because I have you.”
They hugged, and Liz’s smile faded. It was a challenge, a real task. Liz could feel the tension leave Bill’s body. It transferred into hers.
Chapter Seven
ERNEST HAD slept better than he could recall in a long time. The twin treehouses were silent for ten hours. That had to be a new record. Finally, it was Jim’s incessant stirring and mumbling under his breath that awoke him.
Ernest got up off the floor, leaned back, flexed his muscles, and stood beside his commandeered bed. He couldn’t understand what Jim was saying, save for a single word.
“Chow.”
“Chow?” Ernest said with a frown.
“Chow,” Jim said again, as if in confirmation.
Why Jim might be saying it, and in what context, puzzled Ernest. Jim was probably just dreaming or hallucinating… And yet it frustrated Ernest. Nothing was random in the universe—nothing. Everything obeyed a series of rules. If you could understand the rules, you could understand the underlying truth of anything. Chow was a piece of a puzzle, a piece hidden away in Jim’s subconscious. Ernest filed the puzzle away for further contemplation later.
“Chow,” Jim said again, through lips that barely parted.
&n
bsp; “I know, I know,” Ernest said. “I heard you. But what the hell does it mean?”
“It means diddly squat is what it means,” Fritz said, resting his head in his hand. “You should know better than to think there’s any meaning in something someone says when they’re unconscious or otherwise incapacitated.”
“Incapacitated!” Ernest said. “Have you been reading the dictionary again?”
“I have to, if I want to understand you half the time,” Fritz said.
Ernest chuckled. He did talk like an academic book a lot of the time. They were what he surrounded himself with. He refused to stop studying, and so he ended up having conversations with himself about academic subjects, taking first one side in an argument, and then another, and then finally battling with himself on both sides.
The world would need science again one day. Probably needed it already. And those with the ability to think logically would be the ones to rebuild it. Knowledge would be a valuable resource in the future, every bit as much as the minerals they could dig up out of the soil.
“Why would Jim say that?” Fritz said.
“I don’t know,” Ernest said.
“This whole situation puts us in a pretty pickle with the natives, doesn’t it?” Fritz said.
“Yes,” Ernest said. “But there’s potential too.”
“Where?” Fritz said. “I don’t see anything useful in this.”
“There are natives nearby,” Ernest said. “We could trade with them. Maybe they’re in contact with the outside world.”
“If they are, it’s a wonder they haven’t been turned into those undead monsters already,” Fritz said.
“Maybe their relative seclusion is working in their favor,” Ernest said.
“But even they might not be totally safe,” Fritz said.
“What do you mean?” Ernest said.
“Why do you think they’ve been making sacrifices?” Fritz said. “It might have something to do with the Lurchers taking over the world and making their life difficult now.”
It was a good point, but not one they were likely to ever find out.
