Flowers vs. Zombies (Book 4): Exigency

by Perrin Briar

  “Thanks,” Ernest said. “It really warms the cockles of my heart to know how much you care about me.”

  “And because you say things like that,” Fritz said. “Cockles. Without even a snigger or a smirk. I can’t believe I’m related to you.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Liz said, her tone hard and cold. “You’re too young to be gallivanting around the world by yourself.”

  “You went travelling around the world when you were my age,” Fritz said.

  “That was with my parents,” Liz said. “And there wasn’t much chance of us getting eaten alive by marauding monsters then.”

  “I’m going,” Fritz said. “You’ll just have to get used to the idea.”

  But that was asking the impossible. A caring parent such as Liz couldn’t get used to the idea that one of her chicks would fly the nest. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she turned and headed for Falcon’s Nest.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BILL FOUND Liz in the elevated kitchen of Falcon’s Nest. She marched one way, and then the other, unable to stay still for even a moment. She hadn’t even noticed Bill enter.

  “Liz…” Bill said.

  Liz started. She looked up into Bill’s eyes, and then hugged him. She needed the support.

  “It feels like he’s going to war,” Liz said.

  “He is,” Bill said. “He’s going to war to fight these undead and rebuild and restart, hit the reset button.”

  “We can’t let him go,” Liz said.

  “We can’t exactly stop him,” Bill said.

  “That’s exactly what we can do,” Liz said. “He’s safer here. Doesn’t he understand that? He would just be a cog in someone else’s machine in one of the compounds. Here, he’s an important part of the family.”

  “He’ll do what he feels he has to do,” Bill said. “It’s the way all men are.”

  “And women,” Liz said, eyes and voice flat.

  “Yes, yes,” Bill said with a sigh. “But the impulse is stronger in men. It’s in our genes. We always had to strike out and hunt for food.”

  Liz shook her head.

  “I just can’t believe this is happening,” she said.

  She leaned back on the kitchen table.

  “I thought he was happy here,” she said.

  “It’s not about being happy,” Bill said. “It’s about growing up and doing what he thinks he needs to do.”

  “Do you think we can trust Rupert?” Liz said. “And what he said about communities popping up all over the place?”

  “He’s been honest with us about everything else,” Bill said. “Why would he be dishonest about this?”

  Liz’s eyes scrubbed left to right, working on overdrive to try and find a reason not to trust this man who, as far as they knew, had been completely honest with them. Finally, at a loss, her shoulders fell, beaten.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t want to lose him, Bill. He’s our baby.”

  Bill wrapped his arm around Liz, cradling her close.

  “He’s a man now,” Bill said. “He has to make his own choices.”

  “I know,” Liz said.

  “The best thing we can do is support him, to let him know we’re here for him,” Bill said. “If he needs to take food and water with him, then we’ll grow extra and provide it. If he needs a new boat, or to make advancements on the one we already have, then we’ll do that for him too.”

  “I don’t like it,” Liz said.

  “Of course you don’t,” Bill said. “But it’s not our decision. It’s Fritz’s.”

  “All this because Rupert couldn’t keep his mouth shut about the other communities,” Liz said.

  “He couldn’t know it would have this effect on Fritz,” Bill said.

  “I just don’t trust him, Bill,” Liz said. “He’s always got an answer for everything.”

  “Don’t we too?” Bill said.

  Liz took in Bill’s smile, and then nodded, her resolve beginning to break.

  “Is this because of his news about the communities becoming stronger on the mainland that you don’t like him?” Bill said.

  “No,” Liz said. “No, of course not.”

  “Are you sure?” Bill said.

  Liz thought about it. Was she ascribing her feelings based on what Rupert had done to their family unit? That he had torn it apart with a simple sentence. She shook her head. No. She hadn’t ascribed those feelings to him… Had she? In truth, she didn’t know.

  “Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t think much of our food portions,” Bill said. “You shouldn’t take things so personally. I think you do a great job considering what ingredients we have available to us.”

  “Now there’s the word ‘considering’,” Liz said, her glare harsh and tough. “Are you sure it’s not Rupert affecting your opinions?”

  “You’re lashing out,” Bill said, his voice calm, which only made Liz angrier. “This has nothing to do with me. This is about you and your prejudices. You need to get over them. Fritz is never going to stay with us if we stifle him the way you’re suggesting.”

  “But we can’t just sit back and let this happen!” Liz said. “When you see something wrong, an injustice, a law that shouldn’t be passed, you stand up and take action. You don’t just sit by and let it happen.”

  “This is an opinion,” Bill said. “Fritz is entitled to his, just as much as we are to ours.”

  “But Bill-” Liz said.

  “Shhh,” Bill said. “He hasn’t gone yet. He still might change his mind and decide to stay.”

  Liz whimpered. She knew the chances of that happening were virtually nil. When Fritz made a decision, he was like his father—nothing could make him change it.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Liz said. “Maybe I am worrying about nothing. Maybe I’m just imagining all this stuff.”

  There was a noise, raised voices, coming from outside.

  “Where are the kids?” Liz said.

  “Outside,” Bill said. “Eating deer burgers with Rupert and Manuel.”

  The voices grew louder. They did not sound happy.

  Chapter Eighteen

  FRITZ RAN around the dining table, Manuel in hot pursuit. Each time Manuel made a dash for him, Fritz was able to keep away. They might have been playing a game if it wasn’t for the look of sheer terror on Fritz’s face and his own torn clothing.

  Rupert was also playing a part, right beside Manuel, shouting in his ear. Manuel took no notice of him, and even pushed past him, blustering when Rupert got in the way.

  Francis sat crying at the dining table as the two men rushed around him, playing a dangerous game of musical chairs. Bill and Liz ran to Ernest.

  “What’s going on?” Bill said.

  “I don’t know,” Ernest said. “One minute we were talking and eating, the next, Manuel exploded and was trying to kill Fritz.”

  Bill knew he had no time to lose. You did not play games with someone like Manuel.

  “Rupert,” Bill said. “Stop Manuel right now.”

  “I’m trying,” Rupert said. “But I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Bill said.

  “There’s no kill switch,” Rupert said. “All this is my fault. We were making conversation when I accidentally said the activation word.”

  “How do we turn him off?” Bill said.

  “We can’t,” Rupert said. “We just have to wait for him to get too tired, he’ll sleep, and that’ll be the end of it.”

  Fritz’s breath was already gasping out of his throat. No way he was going to last much longer.

  “That’s not going to work,” Bill said.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Rupert said.

  “We hold him down, pin him until he runs out of energy,” Bill said. “I’ve got some medicine we can use on him, to relax him. But we’ll need to hold him down until it takes effect.”

  “Okay,” Rupert said. “But it’ll take more than two of us.”

  “Ernes
t, Jack, Liz,” Bill said. “We’re going to make a move on Manuel. Once we get him on the ground, we’ll need you to jump on his limbs and pin him down. Can you do that?”

  “Of course we can,” Liz said. “You just concentrate on holding him.”

  Manuel had already figured out he would never catch Fritz the way he was going. Then, finally, he hit upon the perfect, simple solution. He looked at Fritz standing on the other side of the table from him. He looked down at the tabletop underneath his thick hands. He began to climb on top of it.

  Fritz moved backward, putting some distance between himself and Manuel. As soon as Manuel was standing on the table, Fritz would make a break for it and rush for one of the treehouses—Robin’s Nest would be first. He would get to the top and, as Manuel was heading to the top, would kick at him, in the face, until he let go and fell to the ground below. It wouldn’t kill him, but it ought to slow him down.

  Fritz could recall the feel of the great lumbering giant’s hands, unflinching and powerful, as they had wrapped around his throat. It was blind luck Fritz had managed to slip free when he had.

  Manuel stood on the table and drew up to his full height. Now was the time for Fritz to take flight. He bumped into something. Fearful he’d been cornered, Fritz spun to look at what he had made contact with.

  “It’s okay, Fritz,” Bill said. “We’re going to help you. Stand behind us. We’re going to pin him to the ground and hold him there till he’s too exhausted to move.”

  “He’ll never stop!” Fritz said. “He’s determined to kill me!”

  “We won’t let him,” Bill said. “I promise.”

  Just hearing that word—promise—from his father was enough for Fritz to feel instantly calm and relaxed. He knew he could trust his father implicitly. There was nothing he needed to worry about when his father made promises.

  Fritz nodded, the veil of fear and terror lifting, making the world a clearer place. He was still afraid of the unstoppable Manuel—who wouldn’t be?—but no longer had to face him alone.

  Manuel jumped down from the table. Francis continued to bawl his eyes out. Manuel only had eyes for Fritz, who felt the sliver of fear again, the way only someone who has had to face an opponent much stronger than themselves might. Fritz took a few steps back. Manuel didn’t even notice Rupert and Bill standing on either side of him.

  “Now!” Bill said.

  He and Rupert leapt upon the hapless Manuel. They seized a thick arm each and pushed back. As hard as they pushed and pried, Manuel’s arms always came free. They were taut, tight, the muscles unyielding. He crept forward inch by inch. There was no way they were going to slow him down, never mind stop him entirely, not like this.

  “His legs,” Bill said. “Take out his legs from under him!”

  The sweat ran down their faces, dripping onto their clothes, spreading like drops of rain. Who built a machine like Manuel and didn’t include an off switch?

  Bill and Rupert slid down Manuel’s body, to his legs, and together they wrapped their arms around the man’s ankles. Bill felt the powerful muscles pull up, as if to take a step, but they were entrapped and couldn’t complete the move. Manuel fell forward and hit the ground, hard.

  Manuel was already beginning to get to his feet. He was a robot, not seeming to notice Bill and Rupert were there, getting into position on top of him. But even with their combined weight it wasn’t enough to keep him down.

  “He’s still going to get up!” Bill said.

  With even two fully grown men on top of him, Manuel was getting to his feet. It was as if they weren’t even there.

  “Now!” Bill shouted around a mouthful of air.

  The rest of the family—save Francis, who was still bawling like a baby at the top of his voice—piled on top of Manuel. Manuel’s movements slowed. Staying clear of Manuel’s flailing arms, Fritz joined in, holding down the man’s feet. Even Nips was joining in.

  “Jack!” Bill said. “Go get the medicine! Quick!”

  Jack took off and ran for Robin’s Nest, Nips on his heels. He climbed the rungs two, three at a time, and disappeared inside.

  Those on the ground grunted, each taking a different limb and forcing it down, holding it in place. Manuel’s resolve was astounding. His eyes widened, red with fury. He roared, spittle flying. The family were all gasping and grunting in an effort to maintain their hold. It wasn’t a moment too soon when Jack finally returned. He extended it to his father.

  “You give it to him,” Bill said, grunting. “Mash up five tablets and mix them with water. Put them in a cup and then use the funnel from the kitchen to feed it to him.”

  “Okay,” Jack said, running to the kitchen.

  The family were weakening, Manuel getting stronger, like he was syphoning off their strength for himself. He was going to get out of it, Bill thought. He was going to get free and get his hands on Fritz again. They would fail. Bill checked over his shoulder, looking in Jack’s direction. He was busy adding water and mixing it.

  “Fritz,” Bill said. “If we fail to stop him, you run into the jungle. Take him in a wide circle. Take thirty minutes or so. By the time you get back, we’ll be ready for him. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” Fritz said.

  “Don’t let him get anywhere near you,” Bill said. “If he does, you’ll never get away from him.”

  “I won’t,” Fritz said.

  The threshold of their tenacity was swiftly approaching. They would soon lose power, unable to keep hold of him. His limbs moved with greater strength. Rupert and the family grunted at forcing Manuel’s body to the ground. His arm began to rise, but Bill grunted and forced it, juddering, back down.

  Jack’s footsteps came hurrying up behind them.

  “What do I do?” Jack said.

  He held the funnel in one hand and a cup of the concoction in the other.

  “Jam the funnel into his mouth,” Bill said.

  Jack did, gently placing it in the corner of Manuel’s mouth. He spat it out in his attempt to force the people off him.

  “Harder,” Bill said. “The funnel. Deeper.”

  Jack screwed up his face and forced the funnel deeper into Manuel’s mouth. He pushed harder, until he met resistance at the back of Manuel’s throat. Manuel choked.

  “Pour it!” Bill said. “Now!”

  Jack did. There was a horrible gurgling sound, the concoction splattering over Liz and Ernest. They turned their faces away. Manuel swallowed most of the medicine.

  “Get up, Fritz!” Bill said.

  Fritz did, turning and jogging in the direction of the jungle. The family, and Rupert, had held on for about as long as they could stand, Bill surmised.

  “Everybody up!” Bill said.

  They rolled to one side to avoid Manuel’s flailing limbs as he got to his feet. He cast around, looking at them, one at a time. They took a step back. He was Mr. Hyde, his hair even more disheveled than usual. Bill didn’t want to look the mad, crazy expression in the eye, but he couldn’t not. Manuel looked them each up and down before spotting the fleeing figure across the clearing.

  Manuel took after him in his lumbering, unnatural gait.

  “When should the drug kick in?” Rupert said, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “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 jog
ged 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.”