by Russ Watts
“All right, party’s over,” said Warwick. “Let’s get on with this. You are now officially on American soil. Over there to my left is a ladder. Sort of. You must exit these premises using the ladder until you reach the other side of the perimeter fencing. Once you reach the other side, you are free. Any questions?”
“You’re joking, right?” asked Izliev. She jutted out her prominent jaw and took a small step forward. “I’m not going anywhere with these people.”
Since the gunfire, the murmuring Roach heard earlier had grown in volume and he now knew where it was coming from. It was all around them, just out of sight. It was coming from below them, surrounding them on all sides. There was nowhere to run to. He knew the ladder would almost certainly not lead to freedom.
“The Grave? This is a joke. Where are your superiors?” asked Min.
“No way, man, no way you can do this,” said Jackson.
Roach could sense the panic building in the prisoners. They knew what it meant to be here and why they were here. Freedom was not waiting for them on the other side of the fence, only death. Roach could see Dwight looking confused and scared. He didn’t know what this place was. At that moment, Roach noticed the other man, the one who had until now kept quiet. He was elderly and small, not like the other men. Warwick had ignored him when listing their names.
“Sergeant Warwick,” said the man clearing his throat. “If I may?”
“What is it, Quentin?”
Quentin turned to face the prisoners. “You’re not being freed. Far from it, you’re expected to die here. I’ve been working with the authorities trying to find a cure for them. Until about a year ago anyway, then it all changed. I found out what’s really going on here. This place is...”
“All right, Quentin, that’ll do,” said Warwick. He took a step toward the man.
“Fuck you, Warwick, I know all about you,” said Quentin.
Roach was surprised. The man looked so small and frail, yet he spoke with determination and fierceness. He was glaring at the sergeant now and Warwick almost stepped back. Roach looked around and could see the ladder they had been told to cross. It was perched perilously on the edge of the rooftop and went across the yard with the other end resting on top of the tall fence. A fallen tree was leaning against the fence on the outside, no doubt conveniently placed for them to make their escape to ‘freedom.’ Beyond the beech trees, he could not see. What was below the ladder, the things making the moaning sounds, was too terrifying for Roach to contemplate. Perhaps, this Quentin would be able to help them. He seemed to know what was going on.
“What’s out there?” asked Emmerson. “What’s with this place?” The man might have the muscled body of a weightlifter, but he had the look of a man who knew he was about to be in some serious shit, thought Roach.
“If we take a step onto that ladder, we are dead,” continued Quentin. “The Deathless live here. They have this island all to themselves. I, for one, am not going out there. If the dead don’t kill you, the infection will. Sergeant Warwick, I demand you take us back this instance. A lifetime in prison would be preferable to being condemned to The Grave.” Quentin began shuffling forward toward the helicopter.
“Hey if he’s going, I want out too.” Jackson began shuffling forward too.
Roach stayed where he was. He watched as Sergeant Warwick raised his gun and pointed it squarely at Quentin.
“Freeze, now!” shouted Warwick, but Quentin kept moving closer to the soldiers and the helicopter.
Roach watched as the other soldiers got up, realising events were getting out of hand. He heard Warwick tell Quentin to stop, and then gunfire shattered the peace. Quentin’s body exploded as a barrage of bullets smashed through his body, sending his blood all over the rooftop. The man crumpled to the ground, dead. Min screamed as Emmerson and Jackson dropped to the ground, shielding themselves from the gunfire. Roach instinctively ducked, but was too shocked to react. He heard Izliev next to him begin crying and Leone muttering in Spanish. When Warwick stopped firing, there was near silence again. All Roach could hear was the murmuring from below. It was definitely louder now and he could hear thumping noises and bangs as the Deathless tried to climb the building.
“Jesus Christ,” said Brooks.
“If you lazy fuckers had been paying attention, we could be halfway back by now. He would’ve exposed us and you know it. We’ve got our orders. Pick up his body and get rid of it. Now!” screamed Warwick.
Brooks and Springman reluctantly picked up Quentin’s bloody body and dragged it to the edge of the roof where they dumped it over the edge. Roach felt sick. He knew that if they didn’t leave now, Warwick was likely to shoot them all where they stood. He put his hands up. “Warwick, I’ll go. I’ll go first. Just give us a fighting chance. Okay? How about these leg braces, eh?”
Warwick motioned for another of the soldiers to go over to Roach and his legs were finally unshackled. Warwick kept his gun aimed at the prisoners the whole time, as did the others behind him now, alert for any more trouble.
Roach walked slowly to the ladder. “Min, Jackson, everyone; you should follow me. I don’t think we have much choice here.”
As he got closer to the ladder, he heard the others being released and their leg braces collected. The roof began to plateau and then he saw them. Below the roof, trapped in the yard by the fence on all sides, were hundreds of them. There were men, women and children, all pushing and shoving each other, all moaning and baring their teeth. Hands and feet banged on the walls, picking at the masonry, punching the bricks as if they could make the whole building fall down. Roach was terrified, but he felt pity too. These poor people that were before him; they had not deserved this. The infection had taken them and they had been abandoned here on The Grave. They no longer thought or acted like the living because they were dead. The terrible poison that man had created to save them from death had only hastened them toward it.
Roach reached the ladder and knelt down. He put his hands firmly on the rails and shuffled onto it with his knees supporting him on the rungs. He reasoned it must be about fifteen feet to the fence. He quietly said a prayer and looked down through the ladder. The dead were reaching up for him, jumping, scrabbling over one another, and fighting each other to get to him. If they made it, he would be eaten alive. He began to crawl forward carefully and hoped he could make it past the Deathless.
ONE
Four years later
“Sorry I’m late,” said Suzy as she skipped down the steps and into the office of Dr Kelly Munroe. “New York traffic, what can I say?” she said holding her hands up.
“Don’t worry, Suzy, it’s only the single most important event in the museum’s year,” said Kelly without looking up. “It’s not like the President’s wife is attending or anything.”
Kelly was sat behind her desk analysing some new data on her laptop. She was wearing a stylish Desigual Selva dress that Suzy had picked out for her earlier in the week. Her short brunette hair showed off her neckline well and she had applied just a touch of make-up. She was far more at home studying or out there in the field than hobnobbing, but this was an important fundraiser and a lot of high profile people were going to be there.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. You look great by the way.” Suzy burst into the office, a bundle of energy, and sank into a chair. She pulled off her sneakers and pulled a pair of black heels out that matched her dress. “You really think she’ll be here? I heard she’s into the arts, mostly opera, ballet, stuff like that. Are you going to tap her up? Imagine if the freaking President was on the board. We’d never have to do a fundraiser ever again. So what do you think?”
Kelly dragged her eyes away from the screen to see Suzy twirling around her office in a little black dress. It showed off her slim figure perfectly and Kelly couldn’t help but smile. She had taken Suzy on a year ago and she had proven herself an excellent assistant. There was no doubt she loved the New York lifestyle, but she worked as hard as she partied
and was very reliable.
“Very nice,” said Kelly. She turned off her laptop and glanced at the time. She would have to go and start mingling now. “You sure you’re wearing that for the museum’s benefit and no one else?”
Suzy picked up her bag and straightened down her strawberry blonde hair. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m here to meet the First Lady. No one else is going to get a look in, period.”
“Of course, Suzy,” said Kelly as she picked up her handbag. She flicked the lights off and together, they left her office and began walking back up the stairs to the main hall. “I think Will Forrest will be here tonight. His flight landed a couple of hours ago, so I asked him if he would make an appearance. He is one of our best researchers.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me that,” said Suzy as they continued up the stairs. She looked at Kelly and couldn’t help but grin. Kelly winked back at her and they said no more.
The American Museum of Natural History was buzzing. On the steps outside, photographers waited anxiously, and men in dark suits stood either side of a red carpet. Various dignitaries and celebrities had been entering the museum for the last hour. The majority had made their way through to the Guggenheim Hall where waiters served champagne and hors d’oeuvres. All the directors and employees of the museum were present, talking up the next expedition and exhibits planned in the year ahead.
Kelly, as Associate Director, was due to give a speech in an hour. It was not her favourite part of the job, but she understood its importance to both her own career and the future of the museum. She spent a lot of the year travelling and as much time as possible in her office studying and planning for the next trip. She had asked Suzy to pick out a dress for her to wear because she didn’t have time herself. It had been a year since she had last worn one and hoped it would be another until the next occasion.
As Kelly and Suzy entered the Hall of Ocean Life, they spied a familiar face. Breaking away from the group of men he had been chatting with, Professor Rasmus came over to them immediately. He had worked at the museum for nearly forty years, which was far longer than anyone else had. What he didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing and Kelly made sure he was well looked after. He would be retiring in a few years and the upcoming trip was to be his last. Kelly wanted to make sure it was a worthwhile venture and that he would enjoy it.
“Ladies, you look beautiful,” he said beaming as he gave them both a quick kiss.
“Rasmus, I’ve never seen you look so smart,” said Suzy. “Oh hang on, I don’t mean that you’re usually, you know, well...”
“Relax dear; you need a glass of champagne.” Rasmus reached over to a passing waiter and grabbed a couple of glasses. He handed one to Kelly and one to Suzy.
“She’s just nervous,” said Kelly. “We have a VIP here tonight, don’t you know.”
“The First Lady? Why of course. Suzy, you must just not think about it. Relax and be yourself, my girl.” Rasmus smiled at Suzy who was blushing.
“Actually I think she is hoping Will Forrest is going to make an appearance.” Kelly looked at Suzy, trying to make her blush even more.
“All right, you guys, can it. I swear it’s like being back at school here sometimes. Look, I am a professional. I am here to work and help the museum. Whoever is here is here and whoever is not is not.” Suzy knocked back her champagne and handed the empty glass to Kelly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have people to see and work to do.” Suzy winked at Kelly, gave Rasmus a peck on the cheek, and then waltzed off in the direction of the main hall where a chamber orchestra was playing.
“So you all set for tomorrow? You must be looking forward to it immensely. Bags packed? Any last minute hitches?” Rasmus scratched at his white beard, thinking he should really trim it before the flight.
“Absolutely, you know me, I love it. I have everything planned and organised down to the last, so there had better not be any last minute hitches. If you jinx me, Rasmus, you’re in for it. I don’t know whose bright idea it was to book a flight for eight o’clock in the morning, the day after the museum fundraiser. There are going to be some sore heads on the flight tomorrow.” Kelly sipped her champagne. She was purposefully making herself drink it slowly. She would need a clear head for the speech later and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of the First Lady and five hundred people.
“I have to thank you, Kelly. I thought I had been on my last field trip, but this one is just so exciting. I can’t wait to get stuck in. I was talking to Tricia earlier and she said there would be ten of us going. I knew of you and Suzy and of course, Tricia and myself. Josef rang me yesterday to say he and Wilfred were going to meet us in LA and pick up the flight there. Who else are we bringing along to the freezing depths of the Antarctic?”
“Well I’ve managed to get National Geographic on board. It’s a bit last minute, but they’re sending a reporter, Mark Osborn. He’s one of their best photographers and journalists. They haven’t done a piece on the Antarctic Tundra for a while, so it’s a good opportunity for them. The museum will get a fair bit of coverage out of it too. He’s going to document what we’re doing out there and will probably do some interviews with you guys too so talk us up. Let him see the research we’re doing; this is a really good chance for some publicity for the museum.”
“Good work, Kelly, I’m sure he’ll be a fine addition to the team. So who else?” asked Rasmus.
“Brian Hadley. Everyone calls him Tug. Don’t call him by his real name or you’ll be in for it. He hates being called Brian. He’s an English guy and I’ve worked with him a couple of times. Officially, he is the ‘Executive Administrator’ of our trip. Unofficially - he’s the dogsbody. He’ll be doing the heavy lifting, carrying the gear, sorting out the equipment, cooking our meals, and tucking us in at night. If you need anything, you come to him or me. Our last guest is a bit of a surprise: Claire Bishop.”
“I don’t believe I know her. Where is she from? Not another journalist, I hope. I think one is plenty, don’t you?” said Rasmus.
“Actually, we’ve been running a competition in the schools and colleges in the area for the last few months. You know, trying to get the kids interested in geology and science, rather than basketball and baseball for a change. We have a wonderful young girl from Philadelphia. She’s showing real promise and the museum is paying for her to come along. I’m going to get her involved with what we’re doing, so it’s not a free holiday. Hopefully, if it works out, we might even offer her a scholarship. I’m going to be announcing it in my speech shortly.”
“Well, well, well,” said Rasmus scratching his beard furiously. “I must say you are going to have your work cut out for you, my dear: a reporter, a school girl, an old man like me pestering you every five minutes and our two budding lovebirds. It’s certainly going to be an interesting trip.”
“I’ll say.” Kelly took Rasmus by the arm and they began walking toward the main hall where everyone was congregating. They said hello as they passed various colleagues and acquaintances. Kelly saw Tricia as she entered the Guggenheim Hall and waved. Tricia waved back and mouthed ‘good luck’ to her as she passed.
Once inside the hall, Kelly was taken aback at how splendidly they had made the place look. Instead of the quiet museum she knew, the hall was now full of colour, life and laughter. Huge sweeping curtains had been raised with the museum’s logo displayed on each side. Helium filled balloons bobbed around the ceiling and she saw attentive waiters skirting amongst the guests with platters of food and drink. Kelly felt proud. Every year, it seemed to get better and better. Her father would have loved to see the museum today.
The sound of the orchestra was almost drowned out by the chatter and conversations going on. Kelly spied Suzy in a corner of the room discreetly fixing her dress behind a glass case full of stuffed birds. She left Rasmus and went on over to Suzy.
“How’s it going?”
“Wonderful,” said Suzy straightening up. “I saw Tricia on the way
in. She’s looking good. Has she lost some weight?”
“Yeah, she’s on some new diet. Don’t ask me. We both know whatever she loses, she’ll put straight back on. Shit, how much of a bitch do I sound like? Anyway, have you seen Will yet? I was rather hoping he would be here so I could introduce him to...”
“Did someone mention my name?”
Will put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder and she shrieked in surprise. Nobody noticed over the noise of the room and she greeted Will with a bear hug. He was wearing a tuxedo, like most men at the fundraiser, and he looked fresh and clean. He was a little over six feet tall and at twenty-nine, still had a shockingly full head of hair.
“Will, you made it!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said as Kelly released him. “I got home, unpacked, packed again, and here I am. I’ve gotta say, this tie is not my thing.” Will fiddled with it, trying to loosen the button beneath the tie. “Feels like I can’t breathe in the damn thing.”
“Let me,” said Suzy. Will stood still as Suzy laced her fingers behind his collar and loosened his tie. She kept her eyes focused on his neck, knowing he was looking at her.
“How you doin’ Suzy Q?” said Will, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she stepped back. He ran his fingers around his collar, pleased he could breathe more easily now. He had christened her Suzy Q shortly after meeting her. He had a passion for old rock music, very old, and Suzy reminded him of Suzy Quatro. They looked completely different, but there was a certain confidence, a swagger about them, that they both shared. He didn’t know if Suzy had figured it out yet, but she certainly hadn’t picked up on it.
“See, you just needed a woman’s touch,” said Kelly, amused.
“Good to see you, Will, it’s been a while,” said Suzy. She couldn’t help but admire him. He certainly knew how to wear a suit and with a good shave, he smarted up well. She was more used to seeing him in combat boots and trek shirts. Like Kelly, he spent most of his time travelling and avoided office functions when possible. He had itchy feet; that was how Kelly put it.
