Island of the Dead

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Island of the Dead Page 14

by Aline Riva


  At the dock, Serena was in the smaller boat, helping the children to board. She kept glancing nervously towards the rocks, the area was not visible from where the dock was situated, but she had heard machine gun fire and even though it had been only a few rounds, none of the men who had ventured out had yet returned and that worried her greatly.

  “Hurry up,” she said, taking Sarah's hand as she helped the little girl on board. Zodiac was next, He jumped on board, making the boat shudder.

  “Careful!” Serena scolded, then she turned to the group of children.

  “I want you all to sit down on the floor and don't move – that includes you, Zodiac! I'm going to take the boat out to sea until the emergency is over. This may be a false alarm, there could be nothing to worry about – we won't know until later. Now, I'm going to pull up the anchor...”

  As the anchor lifted, the boat drifted a fraction from the dock.

  “Now I'm starting the engine. There's nothing to be afraid of,” Serena said, “Just stay on the floor sitting down and – Zodiac, sit down!”

  All the other children were seated. Zodiac was standing defiantly as the breeze blew his silvery hair and his translucent eyes shone with fear.

  “They're coming!” he said urgently, sensing something the others could not, “Many of them...the monsters are coming!”

  “Stop that!” Serena scolded, “Sit down and be quiet! There are no monsters!”

  “My Daddy!” he said in fright, “He's in danger!”

  “Zodiac, no!” Serena yelled, but it was too late. The boy had leapt back on to the dock, landed heavily and was now up and running back towards the path that led to the village.

  “We have to leave,” Serena said as she heard another burst of gunfire and a far off sound that she hoped was nothing more than the wind making strange sounds as it blew across the island.. In that moment it had sounded just like a distant snarl, the cry of a far off corpse...

  “But what about Zodiac?” Sarah asked as she looked up at Serena with a worried expression.

  Serena's heart was heavy, but she had fifteen other lives to think about, and as she looked at their scared little faces she knew she only had one choice.

  “We have to leave, it may not be safe here!” she told them, then she switched on the engine and the boat turned and started out across the water, carrying the children far from Wolfsheer Island.

  Zodiac was breathless as he ran. In the street people were dashing for their homes to grab weapons, confused and scared at the sudden sense of danger that had overcome their long time safe haven. He reached the house at the bottom of the hill and saw the door was open.

  “Daddy!” he yelled as he ran inside, looking left and right in panic.

  Just then Greg came down the stairs, he was wearing dark jeans and a white t shirt and had thrown on a long leather coat, it was open and as he came down the stairs his son noticed he was wearing two holstered guns and also had a machine gun slung over his shoulder.

  “I thought you went to the boat?” he said in horror as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Far in the distance, gunfire was briefly heard and then it faded out again. Fear gripped at his heart as he wondered about the depth of the crisis that had hit the island and looked into the eyes of his son.

  “I was on the boat,” Zodiac told him as he looked up at him, “But I could feel them coming, I could hear them and no one believed me!”

  “Who did you hear?”

  “The corpses! There's so many of them, Daddy! I jumped out of the boat and came to find you!”

  Greg leaned in and gave his son a hug as he blinked away tears, knowing in that moment that his different little boy was very special in more ways than he fully understood – his child knew there was an invasion and god forgive them, no one had believed him...

  “We need to get to the middle of the village. There are still people outside the bar, by the pond... we need to warn them!”

  He grabbed Zodiac's hand, this time keeping a firm grip, determined not to let go of his son until the danger was over as they ran out of the house together and up the street towards the heart of the village.

  Vicki and Marc had hastily got dressed after hearing the screech of metal and the thud of the impact that rocked the island like an earthquake, making wind chimes on the porch dance sharply as if stirred by ghostly hands.

  There was a look of panic on her face as she watched him as he loaded his gun, holstered it and then picked up his machine gun on the way out. He looked across at Greg's place but the door was wide open and he guessed he was long gone, most likely he had gone home to arm himself and then headed out to find Zodiac. He recalled the kids had recently been taught the evacuation drill and wondered if the boat had left. If Greg had gone off in search of his son and found him gone, he didn't know if he would recall the boat drill, maybe Zodiac had not gone to the dock...

  “We should head into the village,” Marc said, “Greg might be up there with Zodiac.”

  They stepped outside and Vicki''s face paled a shade of china white as several volleys of shots were heard far in the distance, sounding from the direction of the rocks on the other side of the island.

  “What the hell is happening?” Vicki said in a hushed voice.

  “It's nothing we can't get through!” he promised her, “But I do know we can't waste time. Let's get to the centre of the village... someone will know what's happening.”

  Then they hurried off together down a street filled with confusion and panic as people ran for their homes, seeking shelter or weapons as they could only wonder at the cause of the chaos.

  Greg and Zodiac reached the pond. The bar was still locked up, some people were standing around in confusion, looking to Parsons, who was giving orders to every person capable of fighting to arm themselves.

  “What's going on?” Zodiac said as he looked up at his father.

  “This looks bad,” Greg replied, “I need to speak to him.”

  He kept a tight hold on his son's hand as he pushed through the crowd, his sights set on Parsons. As he said his name, Parsons looked up and then as several guys who were already armed ran off down the path towards the road that led to the rocky bay, he lowered his voice.

  “A ship ran aground on the rocks - it was full of undead. I don't know if we can fight them off, there are more them than we can handle but we have to try...”

  Greg nodded. His grip on Zodiac's hand got so tight it hurt.

  “Right, of course...” was all he said to Parsons, “I'll see you at the bay...”

  Then he turned away and headed for the path that led towards the infirmary. It was a long way around, but he would not be heading for the bay...

  “Where are we going, Daddy?” Zodiac yelled as Greg broke into a run and the boy struggled to keep up.

  “I'm taking you to the dock,” he said as he ran, “We're getting on that boat... no child of mine is dying at the hands of those creatures!”

  Then as they passed the infirmary Zodiac stumbled. Greg turned back, grabbed his son and lifted him into his arms and then ran for the path that cut through the trees.

  As Christian made his way towards the sound of gunfire, a screaming man came running through from the beach pursued by corpses, they snarled and and grabbed at him as he fell, then as they sunk to the ground to feed the screaming became high pitched. More gunfire sounded, then there were cries of the wounded and as the air filled with the sound of the living dead and more of them moved beyond the treeline, Christian looked on in horror:

  They were climbing the rocks, some swaying and staggering, falling with the crash of a wave to rise again, staggering to the beach, their clothing drenched and some of the creatures draped in seaweed. There were so many of them, heading down the beach, through the trees... they were going left and right, breaking through into woodland where shouts were heard and shots were fired and then the human shrieks of agony filled the air once more as the starving creatures brutally fed.

  Suddenly somet
hing lunged behind him heavily, its sheer strength and the suddenness of the attack left him no chance of breaking free of its grasp. Christian fell to his knees, the creature was on him in a split second. He gave a cry of pain as teeth sunk into his shoulder, biting through layers of flesh, clamping down and tearing as blood pumped and pain took over leaving no room for thought or movement. All he could do was scream, his cries joining the other high pitched screams of the dying. Now he understood why they made that sound when the corpses attacked, the pain was like fire, it wiped out everything...

  Shots rang out, then the pressure was off his shoulders as a bullet felled the corpse. Christian slumped to the ground, rolled down the sloping earth where land met sea and landed hard, face down in a rock pool filled with sea water as the blood from his shoulder bloomed a crimson cloud and he lost consciousness and started to drown.

  Marc and Vicki had made it through the chaos and back to the heart of the village. Parsons had been home and returned with a gun, he called to a group of panicked villagers, gesturing towards the path that led for home and then made another sweeping a gesture towards the other end of the island.

  “We're under attack, go now, waste no time!” he ordered.

  As they ran off, others were still standing around in terror, realising the unthinkable had happened : Their once impenetrable fortress had been invaded...

  “A ship ran into the rocks... it was full of undead,” Parsons said as he joined Marc, “We have to stand and fight -”

  “How many of them?”

  Parsons hesitated, recalling a dying man who had staggered back to scream for help. He had said enough before he bled to death for Parsons to grasp the gravity of the situation – they stood little chance of winning this fight.

  “There are hundreds of them,” he said grimly, “invading the shoreline...I don't know how far in they are, but they outnumber us.”

  Marc glanced to Vicki then back at Parsons.

  “Fight if you want to but I'm heading for the dock. If we're losing you need to pull out everyone who can still stand and get them to the boat. I know it won't hold many but we can try.”

  Parsons nodded.

  “Agreed. There should be a way out if there's no alternative. Good luck,” he said, then he turned away and ran off towards the direction of the treeline.

  Just then as the sea breeze blew strongly it brought with it something that had never visited the island before : It was a strong stench of death...

  People stood in silence, watching as the wind seemed to sway the wide areas of tall grass that divided the pathway that led to the beach. For a moment, nothing could be heard but distant gunfire and shrieks and cries that were carried off on the salt air.

  Then as a single corpse staggered down the path, snarling as it set its sights on the living, a woman screamed. Marc ripped his gun from its holster and fired, hitting the creature with a head shot that felled it.

  Then the grass moved again, this time against the wind. As they emerged snarling and sniffing at the air and setting their sights on warm blooded human prey, corpses stumbled out from the grass one after the other in a non stop flow as further back from the dark of the treeline beyond, even more emerged.

  Vicki was looking on in terror as people began to fight, shooting at the creatures, others were picking up bottles from the party and smashing them then ramming the jagged glass into the faces and throats of the oncoming horde. But they kept coming, they were biting down and tearing flesh and blood was flowing and screams were all around as even more of the corpses stumbled into the village.

  “Vicki!”

  She was frozen to the spot, looking on in horror as flesh was torn from bone and blood spattered the pathway. Marc fired off more rounds to clear the way, then grabbed her hand and they broke into a run, jumping over the dying as they fled the scene of carnage, now heading in the direction of the road that would lead on to the long way around to the dock.

  Greg was the first to reach the dock. He lifted Zodiac into the boat and shot him a look that served as a stern warning.

  “Stay here! I'm going to the hillside to see if the situation has been contained... if not, we'll wait for others to arrive and then leave – unless the corpses get here first. If that happens, we have to take the boat. Do you understand?”

  Zodiac nodded as he stood on the deck looking to his father.

  “Good boy,” Greg said, “I won't be gone long,” then he turned and ran back towards the hillside, running into the sound of battle where the stench of death was stronger as he gripped his machine gun in both hands, ready to fire at first glimpse of the enemy.

  By the time he reached the top of the hill and started the downward path, he saw them below in the distance - so many of them - creatures satisfying their hunger for blood. The rocky beach below was running red as the incoming tide brushed at the sand turning the froth pink, bodies littered the way as the undead staggered up the beach and through the trees. Soon, the whole island would be flooded with those creatures...

  Greg turned his head and then he looked in horror at the sight of Christian's body face down in the rock pool. Blood was oozing from a bite to his shoulder and his medical bag was close by. He was shuddering, his hand moved, it was the faintest of movements, but Doctor Wells was still alive.

  “Shit...” Greg muttered, “I'd better get you out of there...”

  Keeping his weapon ready, he hurried down the slope to the place where land met sea. He paused to grab the bag and toss it back up the slope, then he cast a glance left and right but now the corpses were heading for the woods, leaving behind a scattering of bloodied and torn victims. They were all dead, one look was enough to know that. Christian's body felt heavy and was now completely still as Greg turned him over and dragged him clear of the water. He rolled him on his side and seawater ran from his mouth, then he turned him on his back and began CPR. After the third hasty chest compression, Christian's body jerked and he gagged and coughed and spewed more salt water as Christian turned him on his side again.

  “Just breathe...” he said, patting his back firmly as Christian coughed again and more water came up.

  A snarl was coming from behind, up on the slope. Greg turned towards it and let a spray of bullets fly, then a corpse tumbled from its hiding place, landing with a thud on the rocks.

  Christian was gasping for air, bleeding heavily and barely conscious.

  “Sorry mate,” Greg said, “This will hurt.”

  Then he lifted him as Christian cried out weakly and blood ran like river from the bite to his shoulder. Greg kept his arm around him, half dragging him as he took on the weight of the medical bag too. He was breathless as he stopped at the top of the hill, looking to woodland where he knew the shortcut would reach the boat in minutes. If the undead lunged at him, he would have to drop Christian and fire some shots. But the doctor gaining a few bruises was nothing to worry about – Greg was more concerned about the bite wound. The only doctor on the island had been bitten, and no one else was qualified to cut out the infection...

  The battle on the beach had been blood soaked. Emma had joined the fight as soon as she heard the news, and knew she would have been dead along with the others if not for the shots fired overhead that had hit the oncoming creatures, felling them in the woods as Parsons lashed out a final blow, taking out another of the undead with a slice of his blade to its throat. After the volley of shots Emma had turned to see her saviour standing behind her, he was spattered with blood from the battle and looked at her urgently.

  “They're dead, so many are dead... there's no one left, Emma! We should try and make it to the boat!“

  Alex held out his hand and she grabbed it. Then she turned back, looking to Parsons who was drenched in blood, the cleaver still in his hand as in the distance the sounds of the undead filled the island.

  “Come with us!”

  He shook his head.

  “These are my people. This is my island. I owe them -”

  “
And you fought for them!” she yelled, “But they're gone now! Save yourself!”

  Parsons shook his head.

  “I'll take you to the dock,” he replied, “But I'm not leaving.”

  Then the three of them hurried away from the scene of carnage, weapons still poised as they ran through blood soaked woodlands and past fallen islanders as they headed for the dock.

  As Greg returned, he hauled Christian over the side of the boat where he handed heavily, on his back and bleeding out on to the deck. His eyes were closed but his lips parted, his gave a low moan and then fell still, if not for his coughing and gasping for air, Zodiac would have thought the doctor was dead, there was a bite wound on his shoulder that had torn through clothing and he was almost as pale as a corpse.

  “Its okay,” Greg told him as he tossed the medical bag to the deck then boarded the vessel, “He's got five days...we'll figure something out! I'm going to wait here for the others, just for a while....there must be others who have made it... Don't be scared, Zodiac, Daddy's here, okay?”

  Then he stood on the deck with the gun ready as his son looked on, his translucent eyes wide with fear as they watched the treeline, wondering if the living or the dead would emerge first.

  For a short time there was silence, then they heard hurried footsteps too quick to belong to the dead, and Greg lowered his weapon as Vicki and Marc emerged from the treeline, Marc ran up to the dock dragging her with him, she was limping as her ankle pained her and her face was pale. Marc helped her on board and then heard a shout. He turned to see Emma run down to the dock, Parsons paused to hack at a corpse that lunged from the woodland, then Alex stepped in spraying a round of bullets. And still the creatures were coming, moaning and snarling as more and more of them followed the living, their sights set on the dock.

  “Run!” Emma yelled as she jumped on board the boat, and Alex fired off more rounds, then dashed down to the boat and climbed on board. Parsons was last, breathless as he turned back with his cleaver dripping the dark blood of the undead.

 

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