by Perrin Briar
“Do you think we’ll be able to recover from something like this?” Fritz said.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off Liz, and kept his steady gaze firmly off his father.
“I don’t know,” Liz said. “Yes. No. Maybe. It depends on the people out there and how determined they are to overcome the issues and problems we now have. Somewhere out there there’s someone immune to this virus, or who can otherwise force a change. We’re just here, trying to survive. Who knows, maybe the real winners are those who manage to survive the longest. Outlast them, and we win.”
“Do you think we’ll play a big part in ending it?” Ernest said.
“No,” Bill said. “And frankly, I don’t want to be.”
“What if the opportunity comes up?” Ernest said.
Bill thought for a long moment.
“Then we will do our part,” he said. “But for now we’ll just focus on surviving.”
Bill took a step forward.
“Look, I owe you all an apology,” he said. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting lately. It’s been very stressful and… No, that’s no excuse.”
He met each of their steady gazes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Fritz’s anger simmered on the surface like a pot spoiling to spill over, his hands tight white-knuckled fists at his sides.
But Bill approached Fritz anyway. He offered his large calloused hand. Fritz looked up into the face of his father, and the moment he did his expression broke and he looked away. Bill stepped forward and took Fritz in a hug, embracing him tight. He turned Fritz’s face to look at him. Fritz smiled and his eyes shimmered bright as new born stars. They hugged again, this time Fritz hugging his father back.
Bill extended his arms to Ernest, Jack and Francis. They approached, embracing every part of him: Francis his knees and thighs, Jack his waist, Fritz his left side, Ernest his right. They held onto one another like they were the last family left on the earth, and for all the sentimentality of the expression, it might have been true. They broke apart, each of them thumbing away a tear.
“I’m going to be a lot less strict from now on,” Bill said. “I’m going to trust you all not to take any unnecessary risks. But I do still have one rule: if you find a body, whether it appears to be dead or not, don’t go anywhere near it. Come and get either me or your mother. I want you all to be on your very best behaviour when it comes to these things. Do you understand me? They’re dangerous. And if you get bitten and turn into one of them, that’ll be nothing compared to how I’ll punish you for disobeying me. Understand?”
“Yes, Father,” they chorused.
They had never seen him like this before and were each of them a little bit afraid.
“I have something to confess,” Ernest said. “I have my own little secret too. I made metal cages out of scraps from The Red Flag. We needed them. We caught the animals and put them in the wooden cages just before you came to check on them. We needed the meat.”
“Did anyone do as I asked?” Bill said.
All eyes turned to Jack and Francis.
“I might have crept away sometimes to climb trees and draw maps of the island,” Jack said. “But Nips was always with me.”
Nips grinned.
“Francis?” Bill said.
Francis looked at his mother.
“Go on,” Liz said.
“I went into the jungle with Mum to find some seeds,” Francis said. “To grow vegetables.”
“We thought you needed help,” Liz said. “We all wanted to do our part.”
“I can’t believe this,” Bill said. “If we ever needed proof we were all Flowers, this is it.”
They all smiled.
“Ernest,” he said, “ask me the question.”
“What question?” Ernest said.
“The one you’ve got running through your head right now,” Bill said.
Ernest’s eyes flicked to Liz, and then back to his father.
“Would it be okay if I go down to the southeast coast to check on a few things?” he said.
“Yes,” Bill said. “That would be fine.”
Ernest blinked.
“Really?” he said.
“I said so, didn’t I?” Bill said. “Just do me a favour.”
“Anything,” Ernest said.
“Don’t do anything stupid like eat something you think might be purple fruit,” Bill said.
Ernest blushed bright red.
“No, sir,” he said, before turning and running along the beach.
Jack raised his hand.
“No need to raise your hand,” Bill said. “This isn’t a school classroom.”
“Can I climb the tallest trees, hills and mountains?” Jack said. “I can get a good view from up there. I’ll make notes on a map of all the things I find.”
“You ask for my permission now?” Bill said.
“Better late than never,” Liz said.
“Sounds like a worthwhile pursuit,” Bill said. “Jack, I know it’s in your nature to be wilful at times, but I need you to not be like that when it comes to these things. Do you promise to do as I say?”
“Yes,” Jack said.
Bill put his hand on the top of Jack’s head.
“Good lad,” he said.
Jack’s eyes gleamed and he too took off at a run, Nips hot on his heels. Bill kneeled down before Francis.
“Francis,” Bill said, “I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll never do it again, I promise. After some deep thinking and soul searching I’ve come to the decision that you too deserve a pet, something to keep you safe. Have you thought about what you would like?”
Francis clapped his hands excitedly.
“I already know what I want!” Francis said. “I saw him in the jungle out the window the other day! I even named him. Valiant!”
“Sounds tame enough,” Bill said. “What is he? A goat? A pig?”
“No,” Francis said. “He’s a bit bigger than that…”
“All right,” Bill said. “The next time you see him, you let me know. I’ll help catch him.”
Francis beamed and ran to his mother and embraced her legs. Bill turned to Fritz.
“What are you going to give me?” Fritz said. “I can’t climb, and I have a pet already.”
“I’m going to give you permission,” Bill said.
“Permission for what?” Fritz said.
“To be a man and stand at my side,” Bill said, “to enter The Red Flag and risk your life for your family. Isn’t that what you want?”
Fritz’s heart swelled.
“With all my heart, yes,” he said. “You know, Father, I was always going to go in there. I’m my father’s son. There’s more of you in me than in the others. What would you have done if your father had told you what you said to me?”
“I wouldn’t listen to him,” Bill said. “And I’d go down into The Red Flag while he wasn’t looking.”
Bill laid his hands on his eldest son’s shoulders, shoulders he couldn’t help but notice were broader and stronger than his own.
“Then let’s get down to the ship,” Bill said. “I haven’t been able to carry the panels off. They’re too heavy for me. I thought I could come up with a way to do it by myself but…” He shook his head. Then he smiled. “But now I have you. We’ve got a lot left yet to salvage and not a lot of time to do it in.”
Chapter Forty
BILL AND FRITZ placed the panel section on the floating platform. Ernest and Jack pulled on the vines attached to the platform, drawing it across the water to the beach.
Bill and Fritz turned back to The Red Flag, where only the top of the stern was visible above the water level, and headed back into the ship.
Water ran freely down the steps and into the corridor and rooms below, rising rapidly by the minute. The water was cold and stabbed them all over like needles. The boat shuddered and groaned. They entered the wheelhouse and pried at another panel.
“It’s going to sink
!” Fritz said.
“We need this final panel!” Bill said.
The water was now up to their waists. A disconcerting low groan reverberated through the water and up their legs as the ship prepared to sink beneath the surface.
“It’s not worth dying for!” Fritz said. “Let’s go!”
“I’ve almost got it!” Bill said, putting his foot on the wall and pulling with all his strength.
Crack!
The panel came free, spilling Bill into the water. Fritz seized the other end of the panel and together they waded toward the door.
An almighty groan roared up from the depths. The ship tilted to one side, the water rushing toward them. Bill and Fritz let the water take the majority of the panel’s weight and guided it down the corridor.
Errrghhhhhh!
The boat screamed, and the room rolled to one side, the water sloshing around and half-drowning Bill and Fritz. Up was down and down was up. Fritz crouched in the door frame, now on its side.
“The ship’s rolling!” Fritz said.
“You think?” Bill said, voice dripping sarcasm.
“We have to get out of here!” Fritz said.
“Tell me something I don’t know!” Bill said.
The ship screamed and shook like it was having a fit. Water hissed in through the mismatched joints in the inflamed wood of the hull.
“We have to get out of here!” Fritz said.
“Grab the panel!” Bill said.
“We’re going to drown in here!” Fritz said.
“No we’re not,” Bill said. “I’ve got an idea.”
Chapter Forty-One
ERNEST AND JACK stared with slack jaws and haunted eyes as the ship drove itself into the depths of the sea. Soon, it was gone. The sea lapped gently against the shore like The Red Flag had never existed. The final few bubbles filtered to the top and popped. Neither Ernest nor Jack could speak. They exchanged a look.
“They’re gone,” Ernest said, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. “They’re gone.”
Jack stepped into the water. Ernest held out a hand to stop him.
“No,” he said.
“We have to help them!” Jack said.
“Neither of us are good swimmers,” Ernest said. “We’ll never get into the boat in time to do anything of much use.”
“But we have to do something!” Jack said.
Whoosh!
The water erupted in a spray as something came up to the surface.
“What’s that?” Jack said.
“Nothing,” Ernest said, his heart settling back into its regular rhythm. “Just a cooking pot.”
“They’re not coming up, are they?” Jack said. “What’re we going to do?”
“What can we do?” Ernest said.
The pot washed up on the shore. It grew a pair of legs, and then a second pair.
Bill and Fritz tossed the pot aside, having been hiding inside it. They returned to the water’s edge, bent down, and took one end of the panel. They pulled it a couple of feet up onto the beach, and then fell back, gasping for air.
“Are you all right?” Ernest said. “Are you okay?”
“We thought… We thought…” Jack said.
“So did we for a while,” Fritz said.
“Almost drowned twice,” Bill said, shaking his head. “I am not going back in there to tempt fate a third time.”
“If you try to, I’ll strangle you myself,” Fritz said.
They shared a smile and broke into laughter. They lay back on the warm sand.
Chapter Forty-Two
BILL ADDED the final few items to the cart and lashed it down with vines.
“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Bill said.
Fritz joined Bill at the head of the cart. Attached to it were two thick strands of vines curled into a gaudy-looking necklace. Bill picked up his harness and put it on over his head. Fritz did likewise. He glanced at Ernest.
“No smart-ass comments, please,” Fritz said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ernest said.
He paused.
“Why the long face?” he said.
Fritz snarled.
“We’ll pull the cart together at the same time,” Bill said. “Once we get the cart moving I’m sure it’ll be easy to keep it going. Ready? One, two, three.”
They leaned forward, the vines pulling taut. The cartwheels began to roll. Bill was right – once the cart began to move, Bill and Fritz didn’t have to exert much pressure to force it on. It wasn’t difficult over the damp sand, where the surface held the weight well, but the wheels occasionally got stuck in the small dry dunes. But Bill and Fritz pressed their weight forward and the cart continued.
They got to the edge of the jungle and entered via a path they had already largely cleared free of vines and protruding tree roots. But the ground was uneven, which made it difficult when pulling the cart up the small rises, and dangerous when bringing the cart down on the opposite side: if they didn’t hurtle ahead of the cart it would catch the back of their thighs.
Occasionally they had to stop, the cartwheels having gotten tangled in the undergrowth or impaled on an unseen tree root. They pushed the cart back and steered it around the blockage.
They emerged blinking into the sunlight before an incline that rose at a forty degree angle, the ground slippery with flat flint stones.
“This is impossible,” Fritz said.
“We can do it,” Bill said. “Ready?”
Fritz nodded.
“Whenever you are,” he said, balling his hands up into fists.
“On the count of three,” Bill said. “One, two, three!”
Bill and Fritz leaned forward and pulled with their whole bodyweight. The cart rolled and began to rise up the incline. Bill and Fritz each took a step forward. The cart moved up. The weight pulled on them, and they slid back a step. They leaned down and gripped the slope with their toes.
The cart was a mere few inches from the bottom of the incline. Bill let out a puff of air and pushed forward again. This time he and Fritz took two steps, but the wagon’s weight dragged them back a step. Bill waved his hands.
“Fritz, take it back down,” he said.
They let the cart come to a stop at the bottom of the incline. Bill took his harness off.
“That’s it?” Fritz said, sweat running down his face. “I’d only just gotten warmed up.”
“We have to remove the wheels from the cart,” Bill said. “They’re just dragging us backwards.”
“That makes sense,” Ernest said. “But it’ll be harder to pull the cart up.”
“It’ll keep dragging us back down if we don’t,” Bill said.
He removed the bolts on each wheel.
“Ernest,” he said. “Come remove these wheels. Fritz and I will lift the cart.”
Bill and Fritz braced the cart’s weight. Ernest removed the wheels, and set them down gently. Bill and Fritz lowered the cart bed and wiped the sweat out of their eyes. They repeated the procedure on the other side so the cart bed laid flat on the ground.
“Right,” Bill said, slipping the harness back on over his head. “Let’s give this another go then, shall we?”
Bill and Fritz took position, bracing the cart’s weight with their legs.
“One, two, three!” Bill said.
The cart slid up the slope. It did not slide back down.
“Again,” Bill said.
They pulled the sled up the incline two steps at a time, the wood shrieking over the flint stones like a fork on a dinner plate. In his haste to reach the top, Bill was several steps ahead, and the sled favoured him, sliding in his direction.
“Ernest-” Bill said.
“I’m on it,” Ernest said, moving to the sled and pushing against it so it moved in the opposite direction.
The sweat ran down Bill and Fritz’s faces, drenching their T-shirts. The sun arced overhead, beating down on them. It took fifteen minutes to get to the top o
f the incline. It felt like fifteen hours.
Bill and Fritz made one last big effort, and pulled the sled up with them onto the hilltop. Bill and Fritz threw the harnesses off and collapsed on the ground, Bill on his back, Fritz on his hands and knees, breathing in deep wracking gulps of air.
“What happened?” Liz said, jogging over.
“Nothing,” Ernest said. “We’ve just brought up the first load of items from the wreckage.”
“There must be an easier way than this,” Liz said. “Get some water. They must be thirsty.”
Ernest ran to the coconut bucket and filled two bamboo cups. Liz helped Bill up into a sitting position. His skin was red from the beating of the sun, his eyes half-closed with exhaustion.
“It’s not good for you to be working this hard in this heat,” Liz said. “You’re a doctor! I shouldn’t need to tell you this.”
Ernest gave Fritz his water, which he spilled down his throat and over his clothes.
“It’s the steep incline there,” Ernest said, gesturing to the hillside behind them. “They were fine until they came to that. It’s slippery with flint and rock and it slowed them down. They could hardly get up it.”
“Isn’t there something we can do?” Liz said.
“They either come this way or work their way through the jungle,” Ernest said. “There’s still an incline on that side. It’s shallower, but also longer. I don’t think it’d be much easier. We could set up some kind of pulley system, but I don’t know if that would be much easier either. We’d still have to work the crank and pull the sled up.”
“Well, they can’t keep doing this,” Liz said. “It’s going to end up killing them.”
Liz cast her eye over the sled.
“All this effort for just a few items,” she said, shaking her head.
Then she noticed what was on the sled and let out a squeal of excitement.
“Pots and pans!” she said. “Plates! Cutlery! I swear I’ll make you the best dinner ever!”
“So much… for her… concern,” Bill said, his breath coming back to him.
“This isn’t even the heavy stuff,” Ernest said. “This is just a few bits and pieces. The wall panels are much heavier.”