by Russ Watts
As the sun beat down on them, they passed more signs for the city’s suburbs and the heat began to take its toll. They had exhausted their limited water supply and the walk became monotonous and dreary. They had not seen any sign of life since passing the woman pinned down by the road sign a few miles back. There were no Deathless, no birds, no bugs, nothing, and even the vegetation was thinning out. Tall trees and thick bushes were replaced by low-lying scrub and weeds. The heat was merciless and their pace slowed without intention. Resolute, they trudged on. The city was still not in sight. Occasional rusted signs told them they were headed in the right direction, but the highway was slow going. The heat bounced off the hot tarmac and they frequently had to navigate their way past crashed cars and broken down trucks.
Roach began to wonder if Stella would welcome him home. They had been married for ten years before he had been whisked away from her by Agnew’s men that terrible night. Had she believed the lies? Had Agnew convinced her that her husband had been a terrorist who had fled the country, sullying the family name and abandoning his family? Of his son, Bobby, he couldn’t begin to think how it had affected him. He had grown up without a father. If he came face to face with him again, would they even recognise each other now? Roach knew he had a lot of bridges to mend when he got home. As much as he wanted to face Agnew, Roach knew he could leave the others to get the truth out about him, he didn’t doubt that. Only he could try to repair his relationship with his family.
Kelly, Suzy and Mark tried to ignore the oppressive air by entertaining themselves with their own thoughts.
Mark kept planning his story and how he was going to break the news to the world that The Grave was not what they thought it was; that their president was at the heart of this rotten corrupted fabrication.
Kelly tried not to plan too far ahead. If Roach was telling them the truth, then Agnew had to pay. Everyone who collaborated with him to cover this up should pay. The truth had to get out. She began thinking about what they would do when they reached the embassy. Would they find countless undead blocking their way to safety or would luck be on their side for once? Would they manage to get to the helicopter or would they be shot down in cold blood by a ruthless military? She tried to picture herself back in New York and she couldn’t do it. All she could picture was her dead friends and colleagues, Tricia and Will in particular. She would fight with her last breath to get off this island. There had been enough dying in the last couple of days.
Suzy wallowed in pity, not looking for sympathy, but unable to lift her thoughts above the gloom of seeing Will dead. How could she have a future without him? His death had been so pointless. She could tell Kelly was on a mission now, a crusade to avenge his death and all the deaths their expedition had suffered. Kelly was stronger than she was, no doubt about it. Suzy had always considered herself strong and tough. She told everyone she had been raised by her streetwise brothers in Brooklyn and whilst that was true, she really used it as a cover story to hide how scared she felt sometimes. Now look at her; the truth was that when the shit hit the fan, she crumbled. She hadn’t had to deal with death in a long time. Her grandmother had passed when she was small, and since then, she had managed to avoid it. No friends or family had passed, and she had certainly never lost a loved one before. Her relationship with Will was in its infancy, but she knew it was headed for long term. He had been special and now when she remembered that kiss they had shared, it was tainted with the image of his dead body walking toward her.
Maybe Kelly was right. She knew she had to get back and expose Agnew. However, right now, she didn’t have the energy for anything. Not even tears. One minute at a time. One day after another. Eventually, something would figure itself out. She fingered the small plastic bottle in her pocket. She would just wait.
SIXTEEN
A smell of rotting flesh wafted over the gentle breeze and made Mark’s eyes water. He held his hand over his mouth. “Where is that coming from?”
They had recently passed a turnoff to a place called Johnsonville and the road was veering on a downward gradient, still winding through green hills adorned with houses. Power lines ran along the length of the road and there were assorted bird’s nests clogging the now defunct wires. In the middle of the road up ahead were several abandoned diggers and trucks forming a roadblock. A swarm of flies like a dirty cloud hung low over them. The air was thick, hot and stifling.
The smell of meat clung to their sweaty, sticky skin. They all put their hands over their mouths and noses, trying to avoid the nasty smell as it enveloped them. As they passed the roadblock, the direction of the wind changed and the smell dissipated. They paused to look back but they all wished they hadn’t.
A pile of bodies was in the centre of the road, hidden behind the excavation trucks. It was at least fifty deep and spilled out to the far side of the road, over the median strip and into grassland beyond. There was no way to tell if the pile of bodies had been amassed with any clear intention in mind and it was impossible to see if the people had been eaten or killed.
“Do you think they were infected?” asked Mark.
“I’d forgotten about this,” said Roach. “It was so many years ago. I passed this on my way out of the city. I’ve no idea if they were killed before they turned or not. I didn’t take much interest. It doesn’t matter now, I suppose.”
“We should move on quickly. Dead bodies can carry a lot of diseases we really don’t want to be exposed to.” Kelly trudged on, leading them all away from the pile of rancid, decomposing bodies.
Five minutes later and Kelly paused. There was a small building ahead, an old warehouse of some sort. The frontage was made of glass and she could see inside to the empty reception. They had been walking for several hours and needed a break. She was so hot that she could feel beads of sweat trickling down her back. She walked over to the open door and stepped inside. The air was dusty, but cool.
“Good idea,” said Roach. “We need a pit stop. This heat is getting a bit much.”
Roach and Mark shuffled into the reception behind Kelly, and Suzy closed the door behind them. The room had a desk and a plastic plant, a road map of the island on the wall and a calendar that had faded from prolonged exposure to the sunlight. Its corners were curling up and it was coated in a fine layer of dust. The building was shaded and secure, and they slumped to the floor, grateful to have some respite from the sun.
“It must be nearly midday,” said Mark squinting up through the window to the sun high above. “How much farther, Roach?”
Roach drew in a long breath and whistled it out. “An hour? Two? We’re almost there. It just depends on whether we get a clear run.” Roach took his backpack off, the sweat having soaked through his shirt to the pack, and he let it cool off. He took the three cans of food he had with him and pulled back the ring-pulls before offering them around. He shared his with Mark, whilst Kelly and Suzy ate one apiece. “I’m afraid that cold beans are all I have left, but it will give us some energy.”
“Shame there’s nothing to drink,” said Mark, wiping away the last of the beans from the bottom of the can. As they sat there, Mark unhooked his camera strap and took a shot of the room, Kelly and Suzy sitting on the floor, and Roach fiddling with the backpack.
“What the hell, Mark?” Kelly flung her empty can at him and he ducked as it ricocheted off the door and rolled away.
“What? If I’m going to report on what’s happening here, it’s going to be warts and all. This right here is real and people are going to want to see it. I’m just capturing what I see.”
“I know you’ve been to Bosnia, Somalia, whatever, but this is not a photo shoot anymore, get it? This expedition that we brought you on is not exactly going well, is it? You might want to lay off the photos. I’m sick of it.”
Mark clicked the lens cover back on and let the camera hang around his neck. He knew Kelly had a point. “Yeah, okay, I get it. I can’t help it. I just see everything through a lens.”
“Ma
rk, I think you’ve got everything you need. It’s time you dumped the camera. You really think the military are going to let you bring it back with you?” Roach stared into his backpack. The food and water was gone. The weapons in their hands and a torch were now the only things left.
“Heck, I’m not giving this up, not with what I’ve got on here,” said Mark. He looked around the room and he was met with icy stares. Even Suzy had perked up and was looking at him disdainfully. “Fine, fine, here look.” Mark popped open the casing to the memory card, took it out, and snapped it firmly into a clear casing. He held it out for everyone to see and then tucked it into his lapel pocket, buttoning it down, once it was securely inside. “This is a record of everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve seen. I guess you’re right. I can’t see me hopping onto that chopper and taking this back with me.” He looked at his camera and threw it over the desk out of sight. “Feels weird not having a camera around my neck. I feel...naked almost.”
“You did the right thing,” said Kelly appreciatively.
“You have any family, Mark? Anyone waiting back home for you?” asked Roach.
“Well, I’ve a flatmate, but there’s really only Inca. My parents died a few years back and I never had any brothers or sisters. A few friends sure, and people at work I hang out with when I’m not out in the field, but nobody special. Heck, I’m not ready to settle down yet.” Mark felt like he was being apologetic, as if it was terrible he didn’t have anyone close. He just hadn’t met anyone yet and he knew he had plenty of time.
“Who’s Inca?” said Kelly absently, drawing a line in the dust on the floor with her finger.
Mark smiled. “She’s my best friend. A spaniel I picked up from the pound a couple of years back. My flatmate looks after her when I’m away.”
Kelly listened as Mark and Roach chatted some more, but wasn’t really taking much notice. She knew they weren’t going to get away from The Grave easily and idle chit-chat wasn’t taking her mind off it. It seemed to be helping Suzy though, who was starting to re-join the group and leave her sombre mood behind.
Kelly felt the weakness slipping over her again, and couldn’t let it take her, not like it had Suzy. She dug up anger from inside her, something that would spur her on. She thought back to yesterday and the hatred she had felt for Will when he let Tug go. She had blamed him in that moment for everything, but it wasn’t his fault. Looking back, she knew the second Tug had been attacked that he was dead. Will had saved her. If she had run out to help Tug, she would be dead too, or worse, shuffling around undead. Will deserved better than being left like that: Roach, Claire and Tricia too, in fact all of them. Kelly had taken the opportunity to leave and it had been mostly through self-preservation and fear. She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far away from that tomb as possible. She had been too scared to contemplate going back inside the mall to finish Will, Claire and Tricia off. What was she going to say to their families when she got back? Why should she have to? Ultimately, she had been placed in an impossible situation. The man to blame for all this was Agnew.
Suzy sat staring at the floor, wondering how much longer it was going to take. Occasionally she would slip a comment or a question into Mark and Roach’s conversation, but all she was really thinking about was how long the Aqua-Gene would last in a plastic bottle; how long would it take to get to Agnew?
The conversation tailed off and Mark wondered if he would ever get his story published. There was no doubt that if he got off this island, his photographs would be worth a fortune. It wouldn’t just be the National Geographic who would want them. His pictures would sell around the world. The fame and money could go hang for all he cared. This time, he just wanted his story out.
Most reports he undertook because he loved the colour and richness of life that he found travelling the world. Every country was different. Whether he was in the middle of a civil war or bunking with the navy patrolling the African seas, there was always something fascinating to be seen through his camera. Nobody had ever been on The Grave before; much less photographed it. He could tell a real story now. He was not just reporting on something but he was living it, experiencing it, facing it head on; he was the story. He almost felt proud when he thought about it like that.
It struck him then that there were only four of them sitting in this little room. There had been ten of them aboard the plane, if you didn’t count the pilots; so many were dead. Mark realised he wasn’t actually the story; they all were. Of course, if they didn’t get off this hell hole there would be no more story and no more Mark. He could feel the memory card against his chest, just above his heart. He couldn’t afford to lose it.
Kelly got up and brushed herself off. “One thing before we go. We need to know how we get into the embassy and onto the helicopter. I don’t think we can just stroll in there and ask for a ride.”
Roach got up too and cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about that. Getting to the embassy itself is fairly straightforward. It’s on this side of the city, just off the highway. We won’t have to go through the city itself, so just follow me and I can take us straight there. I can’t say for sure, but when I left the embassy, there was an old uprooted tree leaning up against the fence. If it’s still there, we’ll have to climb in. If not, I guess we look around for another way in.”
“And the chopper?” asked Mark, getting up and patting his lapel pocket firmly, checking to be sure the small case was still inside. “How do we get onto it?”
Roach pulled the gun from his pocket. “Shoot first and ask nicely later.”
“We have the element of surprise.” Kelly pulled the gun from her pocket and checked it over before replacing it. “Once it lands, we get out there and take them down before they even know what’s hit them.”
“I hope you’re as good a shot as you think you are with that then,” said Suzy leaving the warehouse.
Leaving their refuge behind them, they began the trek into the city once more. Back on the road, the sun was still strong and after the cramped reception room where they had rested, it felt refreshing to have the warmth of the sun on their faces. They left together a better unit now, aware of what was coming up. The road was on an incline now, and it was also uneven. It had been unattended for years and the ground had started to break up. A deep fissure ran through the road caused by earthquakes and erosion. The stress the land was under was starting to show. They trudged on and at one point had to jump across a gap in the road of three feet. The hillside had slipped, and rocks and stones were strewn across the road.
“Hey, look!” Suzy saw something and jogged over to a bank of trees.
Kelly saw another pile of dead bodies, approximately thirty of them all pushed up against a bank, arms and legs protruding from a bony mound. Most of them were no more than skeletons, just thin scraps of tissue on bones. The Deathless had rotted away or been eaten by something else. A riot of coloured flowers, orchids and Tororaro shrubs had erupted from the pile of rotting bodies. A small tree with huge yellow buds hanging from its branches towered over the pile. Beside it was what Suzy had spotted.
Thick, juicy, red and black berries hung in clusters overhead in the canopy alongside olive coloured leaves. Clots of them made the branches droop low to the ground. It was unsettling to see life springing forth so abundantly from near such death and Kelly wondered if the tree’s roots had suckled on the fluids that must have seeped into the ground from the corpses. Had their infected blood helped this tree? Had the Aqua-Gene injected it with a thirst for life?
She watched as Suzy reached up and grabbed a branch. Suzy lowered it and plucked a handful of crimson berries from the branch before letting it ping back up into the air. She handed some of the red fruit to Mark and he popped one in his mouth just as Suzy prepared to do the same.
A shiver ran up Kelly’s spine. “No, don’t eat them, they’re infected!” she shouted, running to Mark. He spat the berry out onto the grass and Suzy looked at her, shocked.
; “What? They’re just berries, aren’t they?” Suzy’s face was puzzled, her brow furrowed.
“Kelly’s right,” said Mark. “Fuck, and I nearly swallowed some too.” Mark spat on the ground again and rubbed his fingers around inside his mouth. He wiped them on his trousers and spat once more, getting rid of any trace of the deadly berry. Thankfully, Kelly had reached him in time and he had not ingested any.
Roach kicked at the soft ground. “These bodies have been here for quite some time. Judging by the decomposition, I would say a couple of years at least. These berries are a summer fruit and any matter from these dead bodies would have inevitably found their way into the tree’s ecosystem. Its trunk, leaves, and roots. Every inch of it is infected.”
Suzy threw her handful of berries down and stomped on them with her boots. “What was I thinking? God, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, Mark. I just saw them and thought they looked so good. I know we’re all thirsty and...fuck, they don’t look infected, do they.”
“Let’s go,” said Kelly, turning away from the deadly temptation. “This is a kingdom of barbarians and barbarity; a land of the dead and the dying,” she said quietly.
As they dejectedly walked down the hot road, Mark looked back at where they had come from. Way back, at least a mile, he saw a lone figure. It was stumbling down the road, arms reaching out forlornly. Another figure appeared, and then another. Had they been followed?
