Flowers Vs. Zombies: The Complete Series

by Perrin Briar

  “It should have kicked in already,” Bill said. “Your friend is remarkably strong. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite like him.”

  “No one has,” Rupert said with pride.

  Manuel slowed in his approach of Fritz, who stood on the edge of the jungle, waiting for Manuel to get closer before he took off into the undergrowth. He knew Manuel couldn’t keep up with him. But by the look of it, he wouldn’t have to worry about that.

  Manuel staggered again, this time falling to one side, hitting the ground without putting out a hand to brace for impact. It was a sure sign to Bill that Manuel was unconscious and wouldn’t be waking up for some time.

  “Is that it?” Liz said. “Is it over?”

  They jogged over to the fallen body. Fritz remained where he was, peering out from the lush greenery, a curtain of safety. Thick drool seeped from Manuel’s mouth, pooling across the dirt.

  “What will he be like when he wakes up?” Bill said.

  “He’ll forget everything that took place,” Rupert said.

  “He won’t want to kill Fritz anymore?” Bill said.

  “No,” Rupert said. “It’s happened before, onboard The Red Flag. Sometimes the crew were able to fight him off and knock him out. When they did, he lay passed out like he is now, only with the less subtle method of bludgeoning him into unconsciousness. When he awoke, he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing.”

  “What kicked him off in the first place?” Bill said.

  “We were talking and I must have pointed at Fritz by accident and said, ‘Go’,” Rupert said.

  “That’s it?” Liz said. “That’s all it took to set him off like that?”

  “It’s the only stimulus he needs,” Rupert said.

  “What are we supposed to do with him?” Liz said. “We can’t have him around us all the time.”

  “He has no outlet,” Rupert said. “That’s the problem. He’s working hard during the day, but it’s not enough for a man such as him. He needs more. Something aggressive, where he can let out his demons.”

  “He’s not going to let out his demons on my family,” Liz said, folding her arms. “That’s for sure.”

  “Does it matter what he’s attacking?” Bill said, eyes distant with thought.

  “Anything that moves,” Rupert said.

  “Then we’ve got the perfect targets,” Bill said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “ARE YOU sure about this?” Bill said.

  “Believe me, Manuel is more than enough for these things,” Rupert said.

  Despite it being Bill’s idea, he was now having second thoughts. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea after all.

  “But you haven’t seen them move,” Bill said. “The Spinners are wicked fast. They won’t stop, not until they destroy whatever they’re aimed at.”

  “Sounds rather like our friend Manuel,” Rupert said.

  He turned to his friend. Manuel was tied up with vines, so tight that he resembled a mummy. He also had a blindfold on. This was to prevent him from looking Fritz in the eye prematurely.

  “Manuel,” Rupert said. “Over the side of this ridge are a pair of undead. One is the old regular kind, the other a new type, what is called a Spinner. I need you to take them both out. Do you think you can do that?”

  Manuel only grunted, in what sounded like affirmation, but in reality could have meant anything. Rupert seemed to be fluent in such grunts from the human sledgehammer.

  “Go,” Rupert said. “Kill.”

  Manuel began to move, as if to get to his feet, but of course he was still restrained by the vines. Bill, Ernest and Fritz stood to one side, armed with cudgels strong enough to crack a man’s head open with a single swing. They were preparing for in case Manuel’s eyes fell upon Fritz, he would still have his previous programming, and attempt to wipe Fritz from the face of the Earth.

  “Remove his blindfold first,” Bill said.

  “We might not be able to tell what his intentions are,” Rupert said.

  “Oh, we’ll tell all right,” Bill said.

  He wasn’t going to take any chances. There was no way they could misunderstand the complete anger and aggression and, to Bill eyes’, madness, that alighted there every time they had fallen upon Fritz just a few hours ago.

  Rupert whipped off the blindfold, revealing Manuel’s eyes, wide and wild and bloodshot as much as they had been just a few hours earlier when he had turned them on Fritz. But for the moment they weren’t facing them, and were instead peering over the ridge that led onto the flat plane on the other side, where two undead stood.

  Bill clicked his fingers.

  “Hey,” he said.

  But Manuel had his eyes fixed firmly on the ridge. He didn’t so much as blink at Bill’s attempted interruption.

  “Can you get him to look at Fritz?” Bill said.

  “How?” Rupert said. “I can’t control him.”

  “I thought you said you could?” Bill said.

  “A poor choice of words,” Rupert said. “I meant I can unleash him. Nothing can control him once a target has been chosen.”

  “He sounds like the Terminator,” Bill said.

  “In another life perhaps he was,” Rupert said.

  Fritz moved between the ridge’s edge and Manuel, crossing his line of sight. Manuel’s head only moved to one side to peer at the ridge from another direction. Fritz moved with him, trying to make him look him in the eye.

  “Hey!” Fritz said. “Hey!”

  He clapped his hands too, but there was no reaction. Manuel’s concentration wasn’t to be broken.

  “Gone,” Fritz said. “There’s no getting through to him.”

  “There never is when he gets like this,” Rupert said. “He once got it into his mind to have a go at the main mast.”

  “Why?” Bill said.

  “He must have thought it had offended him in some way,” Rupert said. “It took a master carpenter a week to fix the damage he’d inflicted upon it.”

  “Then let’s cut him loose,” Bill said. “See what he can do.”

  Rupert and Bill bent down to hack at Manuel’s restraints, beginning at his feet. The vines were strong and tough. Manuel was quick to take advantage and get to his feet. For a moment Bill thought perhaps this was the dumbest thing they could do—as it would put them in close proximity to Manuel once he was free. Even with their cudgels he wasn’t sure they could take him down in time before he killed at least one of them.

  The vines snapped and the restraints came free. Manuel flexed his huge muscles, the veins standing out on his skin. Before the vines had a chance to fall to the floor, Manuel was up and rushing toward the ridge’s rise.

  He stood atop the rise, peering down at the enemy below. He grunted, loud enough for the creatures to turn and see him. There was a long moment before they reacted, and though you couldn’t say they were thinking, they knew a meal when they saw one. They lumbered toward Manuel. Bill could hardly watch. They had just sent a man to his doom.

  “Manuel,” Rupert shouted, before tossing a bone club into the air for Manuel to catch.

  He caught it in stride as he ran full-pelt at the approaching Lurchers. The Spinner was faster, spinning like a whirling tornado in Manuel’s direction. The regular undead had an arm missing and was slow on his feet.

  Manuel bellowed and jumped in the air, before bringing his bone club down on the Spinner’s head. Its flailing arms were a blur as they spun round like a hyper-charged top. Its arms were driven into the ground and it kicked up folds of dirty dry leaves.

  The blow would usually have been a killing one, but this was no mere undead. It was a Spinner, and it reacted without a brain. It did not think—even less so than the original undead—and it continued to spin. That took Manuel by surprise. The Spinner struck him, on the shoulder, then the back, and then the leg. They were not powerful blows, but Bill felt them all the same.

  “We should go help him,” Ernest said, preparing to get to his f
eet.

  “Hold on there a minute, partner,” Rupert said. “When we unleash him into the wild, he’s not going to have us there to rescue him. Let’s see how it plays out.”

  Ernest was apprehensive, no less than Bill was, but the difference was, Bill could care less if Manuel never returned. It might even be better for the family if he didn’t. Bill nodded. Let Manuel do what he was best at.

  Manuel received a vicious blow to the face, sending him sprawling. The Spinner must have had some rudimentary sensory system, as he seemed to turn to face Manuel even as he rolled, and continued to rush in Manuel’s direction. The regular undead was closing on him too. It looked like the end.

  And then Manuel did something none of those watching could believe.

  Manuel grabbed the regular Lurcher by the shirt and thrust him into the force of the Spinner’s flailing arms and legs. The Lurcher barely even let out a gargled pang of pain before his body was smashed to pieces.

  The Spinner kept turning, but didn’t last long as its limbs caught on the rotting festering remains of the Lurcher. He tangled himself up, tighter and tighter as he kept spinning and thrusting. Soon it got to the point where it could move no more, and Bill knew what was going to happen then.

  The Spinner would begin spinning in the opposite direction. Manuel seemed to expect this too, and preempted the move by tightening the smashed Lurcher’s body in its limbs and preventing the action from taking place.

  Then Manuel reached out and seized the Spinner’s arms. No sooner had he gripped them than they snapped in his hands. The audience could hear the crunch from where they were. It sounded nasty. But Manuel wasn’t finished yet. Next, he seized the Spinner’s legs and snapped those too.

  But the nature of the Spinners, like all undead, was they weren’t even aware they were animated. It could no sooner stop spinning than it could contemplate the mysteries of the universe.

  Manuel picked up both undead in his huge arms, the creatures flailing. Manuel moved through the trees, toward a cliff edge. He tossed the Spinners over the side like they were garbage bags and dusted off his hands.

  “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” Bill said.

  “Wait till he travels the entire island, ridding it of these monsters,” Rupert said. “It’ll be worth having him around then, right?”

  “Yes,” Bill said, “so long as we’re able to control him.”

  Rupert grinned.

  “Then we have nothing to fear,” he said. “So long as I’m around, I’ll always be able to point him in the right direction.”

  Bill returned Rupert’s grin, but beneath it he sensed a threat. So long as Rupert was here, the family was safe. Bill wasn’t so sure this was such a good idea after all.

  Chapter Twenty

  MANUEL WAS an unmitigated success.

  After defeating the first two undead, he was quick to find the next one, and the next. He seemed to have some kind of built-in undead detector. He paused after each kill, turning his head side to side to identify which direction to head in next. He must have had his senses turned up full to be able to hear or smell or otherwise sense them out there.

  And off he’d run, with the others on his trail, barely able to keep up, as if he feared they would creep ahead of him and take out the undead before he got a chance. Bill couldn’t deny he itched to plant his cudgel into the skull of one of the undead.

  More than once it looked like things were getting a bit hairy for Manuel, but each time he figured his way out and claimed another victory for the Flower team.

  The undead on the island would not prove a problem for much longer if Manuel continued at the same pace he was currently going. The Flowers would still maintain a watch, of course. There was no telling when another shipment of Lurchers might arrive and they would be forced to fight them again. But with Manuel of their side, their secret weapon, there wasn’t much they need fear any longer.

  And for the first time in a long time—perhaps the only time—Bill felt a great weight begin to lift from his shoulders. Things were lightening in a dark and dangerous world. Things were getting better. He was sure of that, every bit as much as he knew Rupert would continue to come up with surprises that none of them could expect.

  It was perhaps that that New Switzerland needed most—someone with ideas and vision, an idea of what the future on the island might look like, and to structure it and put it together. It was not a job Bill wanted, but Rupert could have it, if he wanted it. He could already see the ideas behind Rupert’s eyelids, the spark of passion when they talked about how they might expand the island and the facilities they already had to cater for a growing population.

  “I think we should celebrate,” Bill said.

  “What for?” Liz said as she slid the vegetables she’d just chopped into the stewpot.

  “For the good times we can expect in the future,” Bill said. “With Manuel’s help we should overcome anything thrown our way.”

  “Just this afternoon he was about ready to kill Fritz, and now he’s our savior?” Liz said.

  “You should have seen him in action in the jungle,” Bill said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “He was pretty amazing,” Fritz said, nodding.

  “You’re a believer too now, are you?” Liz said.

  “He’s just what you need on the island,” Fritz said. “A security force to clean and clear everything out so it’s safer here for you all.”

  Liz noted the use of the word ‘you’ and not ‘us’. In his mind he was already not part of the island. Liz pursed her lips.

  “He’s that good?” Liz said.

  “Better,” Bill said. “Now, how about we break open the bubbly?”

  Rupert’s head snapped around.

  “You’ve got alcohol?” he said. “Bill! You’ve been holding out on me!”

  Ernest and Fritz walked off toward the seafront.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Bill said. “It’s just a couple of cheap bottles of champagne.”

  “Cheap is better than anything I’ve tasted in awhile,” Rupert said.

  “You’re sure you want to use them now?” Liz said.

  “I can’t think of a better time, can you?” Bill said. “The day that marks the end of our concerns of the undead that roam the island.”

  Ernest and Fritz returned carrying a pair of bottles each.

  “I’ll pour the glasses,” Liz said.

  “Allow me,” Rupert said, taking the bottles and chuckling like a schoolkid.

  He approached the outdoor kitchen section and reached up for the teacups.

  “Drinking champagne from teacups,” Rupert said, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “When you find some perfectly preserved champagne glasses, just make sure to tell me,” Bill said.

  “I’ll do just that,” Rupert said with a chuckle.

  When you were in a good mood everything was cause for a little chuckle. Bill brought the cups over and handed them out. Jack and Francis took their glasses with wide, excited eyes.

  “Not for them,” Liz said.

  “Aw, Mom!” Jack said.

  “They can have a small glass, can’t they?” Rupert said. “It’s the end of the world.”

  “Yeah, go on Mom,” Jack said.

  Bill shared a look with Liz and shrugged his shoulders. He had no interest in sharing the blame for this decision, it appeared.

  “Just a little,” Liz said. “A very little”

  “I already filled the glasses to the top,” Rupert said with a wink. “You just make sure to drink a little bit, all right lads?”

  Manuel raised his hand to take one, but Rupert was quick to pull the cup away from him.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Not you. Alcohol is the last thing you need.”

  “He ought to drink something,” Jack said. “For everything he did today.”

  “Get him a cup of water,” Bill said. “Or maybe a bucket. He must have worked up quit
e a sweat today.”

  By the time Jack returned with the water, the speeches had already begun.

  “To Rupert and Manuel,” Bill said. “To new friends, hidden strengths and the future of our little community. May we grow ever larger and more powerful. To a new beginning.”

  He led the chorus of raised cups.

  “Here here,” Rupert said.

  He could hardly wait before he threw back his head and gulp his champagne. The others sipped, except Bill, who took a good healthy gulp. He was thirsty. Manuel shoved his head in the water, dousing himself up to the shoulders and swishing his head round.

  “Eugh!” Jack and Francis said simultaneously, spitting out the mouthful they had ingested.

  “Can’t please everyone, I suppose,” Rupert said.

  Smash.

  The sound was so small and insignificant that it was easy to overlook it. But when they turned to look at what had caused the sound, the smiles evaporated from everyone’s faces. They dropped their own cup.

  The first fallen champagne cup had belonged to Bill. It sat smashed and broken in the remains of its yellow-tinted blood. They were joined swiftly by Bill’s body that crumpled to the ground like he had suddenly been stripped of his bones.

  “Bill?” Liz screamed. “Bill!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BILL LAY unconscious on his and Liz’s shared bed in Falcon’s Nest. It was a well appointed room, with comfortable pillows and a mattress they had lifted from the captain’s quarters of the Pandora. Bill lay on the comfortable blankets, melting into them. There was no movement from his body. He just lay there, perfectly, unnaturally, still.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Ernest said.

  “Nothing, so far as I can tell,” Liz said.

  She was dabbing a cold flannel on his forehead. There was no response from Bill.

  Unlike her husband, Liz wasn’t a doctor, but being married to one for so many years had rubbed off some useful knowledge. She had always taken a keen interest in Bill’s job and knew the basics. She might not be able to diagnose him the way he could others, but she could certainly keep him comfortable.