by Perrin Briar
“Captain Shih was right about one thing,” Bill said.
“What?” Liz said.
“A community is the only way we’ll survive,” Bill said.
“We tried building a community,” Liz said. “It didn’t work because we don’t know who the people who will be joining us are. We can’t trust them.”
“No,” Bill said. “Which is why we have to go somewhere where we already know and trust them.”
“Where?” Liz said.
“Chucerne,” Bill said. “Our old home.”
“Are you crazy?” Liz said. “We’ll never get there in one piece! It’s halfway round the world!”
“Yes,” Bill said. “Before, it would have been impossible, but now we have a means of transport to get us there.”
“How?” Liz said.
“The Red Flag,” Jenny said.
“That’s right,” Bill said. “It alone can sail the high seas and get us to where we need to be.”
“The pirates will never let us on board,” Liz said. “And do we really want to be stuck with them on a long journey?”
“We might actually be in luck there,” Jenny said. “The people left behind will be those who the crew value least. They will be the weakest members, the ones least likely to attack us, because they’ll be the ones who would have struggled to survive in the first place. But we’ll need to act fast. If they figure out that Captain Shih is dead, they’ll sail off into the sunset and we’ll never see them again.”
“And why would they let us on board?” Liz said. “They don’t even know us.”
“Which is why we have to be sneaky,” Bill said.
“How?” Liz said.
“We just need to get on board,” Bill said. “After that, we can let our guns do the talking.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
THE OVERLORD In Black’s first big defeat came at the hands of a young boy, still wet behind the ears. This time, it was at the hands of a family. But he was still alive. So long as he lived, he still had a chance of success. Lucky number three.
The overlord had sent all his units to fight the Flowers, the pirates and the natives. It had been his hope that together they would provide him with the army he needed to wipe out the Flowers and then head out back to the mainland where he might begin recruiting for his new next super army…
Except that hadn’t happened. The Flowers had strategies in place he hadn’t known about. Uninfected were invisible to him. The natives, the Flowers, the pirates… There were just too many of them. He had once again allowed his greed to dictate his actions.
And then the angel of death came out of the jungle.
It took a moment for the Overlord In Black to recognize him. He had forgotten all about him—a sure sign the Overlord In Black was already approaching the end of his days. Normally he could recall anyone he had Tasted within a fraction of a second. The memory of their previous meeting filtered into his mind, the realization of what his appearance meant.
“No,” the Overlord In Black said. “No!”
He had few slaves under his control. All left available to him were those plugged into his body, feeding him their blood. He couldn’t sacrifice them… But then, he was going to die anyway. He felt their strength, or lack thereof. They were almost empty. But he dispatched them at the large man.
Manuel swatted them aside easier than if they were flies, crushing them underfoot. The Overlord In Black was going to die. As inevitable as the sun would rise the next day.
Killed by an uninfected, the Overlord In Black thought. He could almost laugh. Almost. If it hadn’t been so tragic he just might have done.
“Okay,” the Overlord In Black said. “Do it.”
Manuel took no pleasure in it, just as he never took any pleasure in killing of any type. He took the Overlord In Black’s head in his hands and squeezed. There was a creaking sound as the jaw and neck joints came under pressure. The skull began to crack. Manuel tensed his powerful muscles again, a wet crunching noise, and the skull gave way to his immense power.
As his eyes fluttered closed and his consciousness was lost, drifting to the four corners of whatever plane he would next inhabit, he realized with cold clarity that maybe sometimes people were just born to lose.
The Overlord In Black’s body tensed all at once, and then relaxed. It fell forward, suspended by the vines that pierced his veins. Dead.
Manuel, at a loss, turned to the jungle before him. He stood there a moment, powering down. He blinked, and it was as if his system was rebooting. A look of fear came to his features. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do. He was at a loss. What was he supposed to do with himself now? His eyes moved to the side, a thought entering his tiny mind.
He began to jog, running into the jungle and a new life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
THE FAMILY gathered their belongings and food that wouldn’t spoil. They wrapped everything in hasty sacks and strapped them to their backs. They needed to act fast.
The bloodbath was already beginning to attract undead scavengers. They would have had to fight them off if they wanted to remain here. Also, their plan would only work if the current crew aboard The Red Flag believed they were who they pretended to be. The cool darkness of night would be their ally.
They stopped on the edge of the clearing to look back at what had, for the past four hundred-odd days been their home. It had contained their hopes, their dreams, but the new world was not warm to such things. They had done everything they could to turn New Switzerland into their home, but in the end, there was no turning an apple into a plum, no turning a rock into food. Some things were just not meant to be.
They stole into the jungle, into the silvery tint of night. The jungle welcomed them with open arms and noisy background music. It had been the setting of their life for over a year and now they were leaving it behind.
They each felt a strange conflict of emotions at the thought of leaving this place. It had made them feel safe, but of course the island was anything but safe. It had thrown everything it had at them, and they had survived. Now that they had overcome their greatest challenge so far, they no longer wanted any part of this place. They wanted to be somewhere genuinely safe, a place that when they thought about the word ‘home’ was the first place they thought of. Excitement replaced fear.
“Just a little further,” Bill said. “Then we’ll be at the beach and can board The Red Flag.”
Bill pulled to a sudden stop.
What was it now? Liz thought. Would they never escape this infernal island alive? And then she saw what stood before Bill.
Manuel. Drenched in blood, dirty, looking like he had just escaped hell. For a moment, Liz thought perhaps he had somehow remembered who his original target had been. Fritz. The last they heard, he was giving chase to Rupert. Into the jungle. The monster had been set upon his own master. Presumably he had done that. There was nothing left for him to do. So what was he going to do?
Liz felt the weight of the gun in her hands. He could crush them all if he wanted. Liz doubted they could get their guns up in time before he wailed on them, even if they did manage to stop him. He would have torn this family apart, beginning with the head of their household, Bill.
But Manuel didn’t attack. His eyes only searched them, looking for someone, or something. His eyes caught on Francis, locked on him like a homing missile. He turned from Bill and approached the young boy. Bill raised his rifle to open fire.
“No Bill,” Liz said. “Wait.”
Manuel fell to his knees before Francis, who shied back, afraid. That was it. That was all Manuel did. He did nothing else, did not move, did not move aggressively. In fact, did nothing but stare at Francis.
“What does he want?” Jack said.
“I don’t know,” Liz said. “But I suggest we keep moving and not find out.”
She tugged on Francis’s hand. The family continued through the jungle. Liz glanced over her shoulder at the giant of a man. He was now on his fe
et, following them. He ran faster, harder. Burdened with their belongings as they were, they could not keep up the pace required to keep ahead of him. He pulled alongside them.
Manuel raised a fist, and Liz pulled back. There was the clack of four rifles in the hands of the others, aimed at Manuel. Clearly their vow of nonviolence didn’t extend to powerful figures like Manuel.
The man continued into the jungle, and then, just as an undead groaned, Manuel brought his padded fist around and slammed it into the undead, crushing its skull against the tree, pulverized. The blow had come with a sledgehammer’s force.
Manuel turned back to the family, approached them, but took no notice of their weapons. He knelt before Francis again. He appeared to be waiting for something.
“Why is he following me?” Francis said.
His voice shook, clearly afraid.
“He seems to have some kind of connection with Francis,” Jenny said.
“We should leave him here,” Ernest said. “He’s dangerous.”
“We can’t do that to him,” Liz said.
“It’s the best and safest thing for everyone,” Bill said. “And do you really want to have him at our backs? On board a ship?”
“He was only dangerous in Rupert’s hands,” Ernest said. “Perhaps in another’s he would be kinder, more gentle.”
First Valiant the bull, and now Manuel. It seemed strong powerful things were attracted to the youngest member of the Flower clan.
“Of all of us you were the last one he saw,” Ernest said. “Maybe he has some kind of connection with you.”
“I don’t want a connection with him,” Francis said. “He’s scary.”
“He’s no more scary than Valiant,” Liz said, though she looked perturbed. “Think of him as Valiant, but in a man’s body.”
“Valiant?” Francis said.
He looked up at the huge muscle-bound man. Manuel grunted, and Francis turned to look away, scared. He turned to look at Manuel again. He reached up and put his hand to Manuel’s cheek. Manuel brought his hand to Francis’s. They were like shovels, but he was extremely delicate with young Francis’s tiny hand.
Bizarreness knew no bounds.
“We’ll have to get him cleaned up when we get the time,” Liz said. “But for now, we have to press on.”
She was wearing Captain Shih’s clothes. They were a little too small for her and pinched the skin of her upper arms. They were still wet from where she’d been shot. The getup wouldn’t have fooled anyone up close, but from a distance she might be passable.
They reached the beach and slowed down, but did not stop. The sooner they got away from this island, the better.
Liz did her best impression of walking like a man, with her shoulders instead of her hips. The others carried their loads behind her. They had changed clothes too, wearing pirate clothing. Only Francis wore his own clothes as it would have looked suspicious if they had dressed him up—none of the pirates were the same height as him.
They climbed into one of the waiting row boats and took it across the water toward the great Red Flag ship. And it was a great ship, like something from a Hollywood blockbuster movie.
A shout went up as they approached. The family clutched their weapons close. The crew were hastily rushing about their duties.
“What should I say when I get up there?” Liz said.
“Don’t say anything,” Bill said. “Just wave.”
“No, don’t wave,” Jenny said. “Just keep moving. The real Captain Shih wouldn’t wait for them to lower the ladder. The longer they take to get the ladder down, the angrier the captain would be.”
They slid across the water, the sky already beginning to bathe the world with light. They pulled alongside the ship. Liz took hold of the rope ladder and began to pull herself up.
“Here goes nothing,” Liz said.
She ascended one rung at a time. She got to the top. A pirate reached over the side to help her up, but Liz retained her character and pulled her arm away. The pirate backed off.
Liz kept her head down so her wide brimmed hat hid her face. She climbed over the side. Out the periphery of her vision, on the deck, she could make out a dozen feet standing to attention.
The others climbed the taffrail and joined Liz on the deck. A nervous man stepped up to Liz. She could see his features under her hat rim.
“We kept your ship in tiptop shape, Captain,” the man said, wringing his hands. “She’s ready for anything.”
Liz raised her head.
Gasps. Intakes of breath. Slack jaws.
The crew couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
“Is… Is she…?” the hand wringing pirate said.
He was a scrawny old man with long white mustaches over a wrinkled face.
“Dead?” Liz said. “Yes. And the rest of the pirates.”
Dead silence. Perhaps they thought this might be some cruel joke? A test? They said not a word. Until suddenly…
Laughter.
Mad, crazed, euphoric laughter. It was the old man. He threw his hands up in the air, rushed forward, and despite Bill raising his weapon, took Liz by the shoulders and kissed her on each cheek. He hugged her tight, and then pulled back, said something in Italian, and then danced a merry jig.
The others were less enthusiastic in their celebrations, reserved, still fearful this might be a test of their allegiance. They looked at one another and began to smile, laughed, and then began to dance.
So much for the possibility of them kicking off and proving a handful, Liz thought. She hadn’t seen anyone this happy and excited in… well, ever. A party kicked off. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, but the family were still wary, none more so than Jenny, who kept a very close eye on the crew, never once dropping her guard.
The family were exhausted and went to the captain’s cabin. There was no argument from the crew, who seemed happy to let them have it for finally ridding them, and the world, of this evil dictator.
No one could wait to be away from the island. The anchor was pulled up onto the deck and they let the ship drift for the night.
Chapter Thirty-Five
THE NEXT DAY, the island was still just about in view, which was fortunate as they needed to know which direction to head in. The crew were still recovering from the previous night’s antics, but were in high spirits upon realizing it hadn’t just been a dream. The captain was dead and they were free.
The first thing they did was to cut down the three undead bodies that hung from the main sail by their necks and dump them over the side. They hardly needed reminding the world had gone to pot.
Jenny told the crew their plan to sail to Chucerne. From there, they could either come with them and join the town, or they could take The Red Flag and go wherever they wanted. It was a challenge that was eagerly taken up by the crew, especially since they were given the choice. They felt they had some control over their destiny.
The crew were on their very best behavior and did not put a foot out of line. They risked facing not only Manuel, but Jenny too. She was every bit as harsh as Ching Shih had been, but with a streak of fairness that could not be understated.
The boat trip was long but not unpleasant. It even came with quality healthcare. Many of the crew had serious injuries. The crew were very respectful. Many of them didn’t get such good care in the old world, never mind the new.
As they sailed, they passed what remained of the old world, most of it Bill didn’t even have a name for. Soon, they would pass, forgotten. Much of it was destroyed and broken, probably never to be seen again. And here they were, a chip of life floating through it.
Weather was good and there was no end in sight to the near constant sun they experienced. There was occasional rain, and the waves grew big and scary, but the sailors were at ease with it, and continued on their voyage without stopping. As they had a skeleton crew, not needing superior numbers for fighting, it was easier to feed them with what they caught at sea. No need to stop, no need to
pillage.
According to Jenny, the atmosphere was a lot friendlier than when Captain Shih was at the helm. The crew talked to each other now, and though there were disagreements and arguments, they never descended into violence. Bill even got to know some of the crew, their background and where they came from, their past, their history. Before, they had just been another slave for Shih’s sea bound army. Now, they were free.
They saw the smoking remains of a hundred cities as they made their way around the coastline of Indonesia, India, and Africa. It took months. The family developed bronze tanned skin and had grown closer to every member of the crew. Even Jenny had learned to relax, warming to them. And they weren’t the only things she had warmed to.
It never escaped a parent’s attention when someone was interested in their children. It was clear to them something was going on between Fritz, Jenny and Ernest. Two men, one woman. Things wouldn’t end well. But things took a turn for the best as they rounded the Cape of Good Hope.
It had been at Ernest’s intervention.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“JENNY, can I have a word, please?” Ernest said.
“Sure,” Jenny said, putting down her fishing rod. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Fritz,” Ernest said.
“What about him?” Jenny said.
“He likes you,” Ernest said.
Jenny blinked. Obviously she knew that already—women always did—but she didn’t expect someone to blurt it out so directly. Especially not Ernest. She suspected he liked her too, which was the reason for her not succumbing to Fritz’s attentions in the first place. She didn’t want to come between anyone, especially not two brothers.
“It’s okay,” Ernest said.
“What’s okay?” Jenny said, not wanting for there to be any misunderstanding between them.
“If you and Fritz date,” Ernest said.
“Are you sure you’re not upset?” Jenny said. “If it bothers you that much I won’t go out with Fritz.”