by Russ Watts
“So there’s a way around them, isn’t there? We find a boat that’s still tied up to a jetty or a private dock and we don’t have to set foot on a beach. Easy.” Mark couldn’t understand why Kelly seemed so set against it. It was as if she wanted to drag it out, wanted to spend the day miserable and tired. Did she want to die here, in this cold, damp cottage?
“And the mines in the water? The ones you can’t see and would blow our boat up, killing all of us? What about the automatic guns that are stationed at random points along the bays and inlets? They are triggered by movement and we don’t know where they are. This island is quarantined for good reason. Getting on or off is meant to be impossible. If it was that easy to jump in a boat and sail away, think how many would’ve done the opposite and sailed in here.” Kelly looked at Mark and it pained her to see him looking so dejected. She had to be realistic about their situation though, and if that meant offending someone, so be it.
“Why would anyone want to come here?” asked Suzy.
“How many people are there out there who have lost someone to this? How many people want to see their husband or wife, their children again? How many terrorists know that if they could get just one drop of infection off this island, they could take out any target they wanted: any town or city, or even country? I can give you a hundred reasons as to why someone would want to come here. Unfortunately, that means we are up against it now in getting off.” Kelly cleared her throat. “So for now, we stick to the plan. If we can get to the coast and find a clearing, maybe we will be spotted. We can light a fire, jump up and down, hell, I don’t know, anything to get their attention. We wait to be picked up.”
“Right, let’s move. Gather your shit up, we’re...” Will stopped, interrupted by a small but sharp bang. The floor of the old cottage began to tremble and then it was joined by the walls and the roof. Soon, everything inside the house was shaking and they struggled to stay on their feet.
“What the hell is happening?” screamed Claire.
The cottage continued to shake and things began falling from shelves in the kitchen. A large, framed picture of a smiling family hanging on the wall swung wildly from left to right until it finally flew off the wall and smashed on the floor beside Mark. It felt like the whole house was crumbling around them. The walls and floor were still vibrating, but it ended as suddenly as it had begun.
Suzy cried as a piece of plaster narrowly missed her head and she looked around the room. Everyone was crouched down on the floor, holding onto one another. Being the closest one to her, she had grabbed Tug’s hand without even realising it and let it go. The rain and wind continued unabated outside, but the cottage was now returned to silence. “Holy cow, what was that?” said Suzy.
“Another plane didn’t crash, did it?” whispered Tricia.
Kelly was now tired, angry and scared. “For Christ’s sake, Tricia, don’t be an idiot, it was an earthquake.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She didn’t need Tricia asking dumb questions. Kelly knew she shouldn’t have snapped, but it was all getting too much.
Tricia was too shocked to reply. She fumbled around with her water bottle and got up, preparing to go outside.
Will broke the awkward silence. “Look, don’t panic. Quakes and tremors are not unusual in this part of the world. We’re right above some major fault lines right now. Look, if everyone is okay we should just make a move. Tug, you know which way to go?”
“Follow me.” Tug opened the door and instantly the pouring rain began flooding in. He walked out head first into the storm without looking back. He was glad to be leaving the cottage behind. Another quake like that and it was liable to come crashing down on their heads.
The group trudged behind Tug as he walked down the road. Everyone was wary, monitoring the treeline and the hills for the dead, but they thankfully saw none. They had been shaken by the earthquake and with Rasmus absent, it felt like time was conspiring against them, colluding with the island to keep them there.
Mark looked around through the rain at the scenery. On the left side of the road was the hillside, dotted with houses, driveways and cars. On the right, a short, steep bank leading to the water. Every now and again, they would pass by a warning sign advising that mines and fences were being put in place, trespassing was forbidden and all access was denied without military supervision. He couldn’t tell if there were mines in the beaches or the water, but he didn’t want to chance it finding out. He knew Kelly had been right back there, he was just frustrated at their slow progress.
The rain was incessant. It came from the sky in huge drops, buckets of it soaking through every layer of clothing they wore. As they walked, their feet squelched in sodden shoes and shaking off the rain from their jackets was pointless. As the sky continued to darken with the clouds only thickening, lunchtime passed and their hunger grew. They had nothing to eat anymore and only sips of water to quell the churning of their stomachs. Gradually, the landscape changed and they got nearer to the town they had seen earlier in the day. Jagged lines scarred the hillside where vehicles had crashed and fires had swept through, melting roads and bringing down houses. The decimation was everywhere. They crossed a motorway, avoiding the crashed vehicles.
Will looked inside some of the cars, but through the barrage of rain, it was difficult to tell if they were empty. If one of the Deathless were trapped inside, there would be nothing to gain from opening up one of the cars. He also looked out for any solar powered cars, but he saw none. They were very few and far between anyway. He knew solar power worked for smaller vehicles, like golf carts, but lacked the power to drive roadworthy cars. Will noticed too, as Tug lead them through wide streets, that many buildings in this town were destroyed. They were not just ransacked or looted, but literally destroyed. As far as he could tell, they had been bombed or burnt out by fire. It was like walking through the ruins of a warzone.
As they wearily followed Tug, Will decided to speak to Suzy. He noticed her looking around in awe at the remnants of shops and homes. “I seem to remember they bombed quite a few places at the start of the outbreak. Once the Deathless took hold of a town, they tried to seal it off and burn it. This must be one of those unlucky places.”
“So many,” said Suzy in wonder. “There are just so many places they destroyed. All those homes devastated, all those shops and offices - didn’t they try to save them? Was this really the best way?”
“I guess back then, it was. Anything that survived the fire was just luck. Who’s to say we would handle it any differently now? Imagine if this Aqua-Gene got into the water supply back home. Imagine the carnage. Do you think Uncle Sam would think twice about taking down Manhattan if it meant saving the rest of the country?”
“Don’t even joke about it,” said Suzy seriously. “If this shit got home… Screw that.”
“It won’t,” said Will. “I’m sure once we get rescued we’ll have to undergo quite a strict quarantining process. They won’t let us waltz back into New York without checking us out first.”
“But we’re okay, aren’t we? I mean, we’re not infected, we can’t be. We haven’t touched or drunk anything.” Suzy spoke fast, worried that she may somehow be contaminated, doubts breaking into her mind. So many ‘what ifs’ ran through her brain.
“Suzy Q, we’re fine,” said Will putting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “Like you said, we’ve been careful. We’d know if we were sick. I can tell from looking at you that you’re okay. You still look hot to me, don’t worry.” Will winked at her.
Suzy laughed. “Now you’re hitting me with the pick-up lines? You sure know how to pick your timing, Will Forrest.”
Will laughed. He didn’t care much now for social conventions. There was a real possibility that he and Suzy might not get that date he had planned and he wanted her to know how he felt. Before he could say anything, Suzy asked him the question she had wanted to since they’d met.
“What’s with the Suzy Q business? Am I supposed to get that?�
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Will chuckled. “That? It’s just that you remind me of someone. You like rock music?”
“Now and again. I’m more of an R&B girl, but who are you talking about? I don’t know of any group called Suzy Q.”
“Not a group. Suzy Quatro. One of the great pioneers of rock. No? Devil Gate Drive? 48 Crash? Nothing..?”
Suzy looked at Will blankly and shrugged. “Has she released anything lately?”
“Er, no, she’s been dead for about 150 years. I guess I like my music old school.”
“Will, there’s old and there’s old. Well, as long as she was cool, I guess that’s okay. When we get back to New York you’ll have to play some of her music for me.”
“Absolutely. You can come round to mine, we’ll have that drink I keep promising you and I’ll chuck on the vinyl. It sounds much better than digital. I’ll even cook us a good meal.”
It was Suzy’s turn to laugh. “If it involves Snickers, maybe I’ll cook.”
They continued talking and flirting for a while. It felt good to talk about the future, their homes back in New York and their plans. It took their mind off their present circumstances. They were both eagerly looking forward to getting back home to see each other as much as their families.
They came across the shell of a house on the side of the road and paused by it. The roof was gone and the walls were charred. One side of the building had collapsed and exposed its interior. It must have been an old furniture warehouse as it was full of beds and dining tables, lounge suites and recliners, all moth-eaten and weatherworn. Most had been fire damaged too.
Tug stood beside Kelly and looked at the burnt out shell facing them as Mark took some photographs. They had all been walking through the storm for a couple of hours and they were exhausted. As much as he hated to admit it, Tug needed to rest up for five minutes too. “It could be several miles until we reach anywhere else. I can’t see anything ahead that’s going to be any better and we could do with getting out of the rain for a few minutes. This place is probably a good choice. There’s not likely to be anything hiding and the area seems deserted. What do you say?”
“Yeah, fine, now’s good.” Kelly let Tug head into the abandoned warehouse and made sure everyone followed closely. “All right, everyone inside, we’re going to take five minutes here. A quick stop and then we’re on our way again.”
Inside, they soon all found a place to sit. The furniture was old and broken, but still better than the cold hard ground. They drank some of the water they were carrying and wished they had food. The rain lashed at the building and came through the open roof above. They heard it trickling down the pipes and walls, the constant dripping outside on the tarmac was a reminder they were only being offered a very brief respite.
“We should’ve stayed by the plane and waited for rescue. They’re picking us off one by one.” Tricia sat on a leather recliner with her head back, eyes closed. “How do we know those things aren’t still following us?”
“We couldn’t have stayed there,” says Will. “The dead were all around us. We had to leave the plane or we’d all be dead by now.”
“He’s right,” said Tug, “You stay still for long on this island, you’re dead meat.”
“Can we stop talking about it please?” Claire stood up and walked over to the outer wall. The gutter was broken and water was gushing down the cracked plaster. She held her bottle underneath the torrent of fresh water and let the bottle refill. As she stood there, she suddenly felt faint. She dropped the half-full bottle to the ground and clutched her head. The room was beginning to fade behind a circle of grey spots that danced in her vision.
As she sank to the floor, Will grabbed her and caught her just in time. Kelly and Mark jumped up to help him set her down on a sofa.
“No, no...” muttered Claire. Figures swam before her eyes, the voices faded away into a white noise, and she collapsed into unconsciousness.
ELEVEN
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Mark concerned. “She looks worse. It can’t just be from her wrist.”
Kelly looked her over. It was true, Claire did look worse. Her face was drawn and if anything, she was even paler. Beneath her eyes, the skin was turning a faint red, as if she had been crying and rubbing her eyes too much. Her nose was blocked and she was drawing short breaths through her open mouth. Kelly held her hand. Claire’s skin was icy cold and so Kelly put a hand on her forehead; it was hot.
“She’s got a fever,” said Kelly. “She’s stressed out and feeling the effects of this place. She needs a decent hot meal and some antibiotics. She said she felt ill earlier, like she was getting a cold. We need to keep her warm and hope she can sweat it out.”
Will looked around for a blanket or anything extra they could use for warmth. There was little of use so he picked up the best looking cushion cover he could see and unzipped the foam interior. He draped the brown suede cover around Claire’s shoulders.
“I’ll look after her,” said Suzy. “I won’t let her out of my sight from now on. Don’t want her lagging behind or passing out and hitting her head on the ground.”
“Thanks, Suzy.” Kelly let Suzy take over and she sank into a chair beside Mark whilst Suzy began comforting Claire, trying to wake her up.
Tug took Claire’s good idea and began topping up his bottle with the fresh, clean rainwater too. “Despite what’s happened, I think our luck may have turned, you know. The hills were crawling with those things, but we haven’t come across a single one since we got down to the town.” Tug screwed the cap back on his bottle and stood looking out into the street. “If we keep clear of them, we should get a good run to the coast.”
“Actually, I noticed a lot of the buildings here are all destroyed. A lot of them seem to be burnt. It’s not like back in Judgeford. Maybe that’s got something to do with it,” said Mark flicking his camera viewfinder on.
“Perhaps the bombs did their job,” said Will. “Perhaps we really are the only people here capable of standing. I hope so.”
“Why are they here? I mean on this island? How come they’re not dead?” asked Suzy. Claire was beginning to stir and come round.
“Because they’re dead,” Tug said, intentionally patronising her. He turned to face the inside of the building. “The Deathless don’t die, they can’t. So it seems. Well, I guess I’ve taken a few out, but really, they’ll be here forever, I should think.”
“You know, they should have perished by logical thinking.” Will went and stood behind the sofa that Kelly and Mark were sitting on. Mark was looking through the photographs he had taken and Will was interested in seeing what else he had captured since the farmhouse. “We don’t fully understand them, true, but they’ve had no food source that we know of. A few sheep maybe, the small animal population that survives here on The Grave, but that wouldn’t be enough to keep them going. So why are they here? What is sustaining them? Their bodies should have disintegrated and fallen apart.”
“Maybe they found another food source?” said Tug, his hands on his hips. The rain gushed behind him and filled the street. Small rivers were forming and running through the town, swamping the roads and pavements.
“Maybe they’re like magic and don’t have to eat to keep going,” said Tricia. “They were never properly studied as you say.”
Tug snorted and waved away Tricia’s comments dismissively. “We need to find the scientist’s base further south to get any real answers. The speed you lot are moving at, it’s a good job we didn’t decide to head in their direction, it’d take us weeks. I guess they would know though if you want some real answers. They certainly should by now, since they’ve been at it for years now.”
Will leant over the sofa as Mark slowly flicked through images he had captured. Will found the variety and intensity captured, both frightening and fascinating in equal measure. He saw the Deathless pouring from the hills, bloodthirsty faces snapping at the camera, bright coloured flowers growing amid decayed buildings and the rams
hackle homes. Then there was one of him cradling the pregnant Weta. Maybe Rasmus had a point; life always seemed to find a way.
Mark continued scanning his images until he was stopped. “Wait,” said Will as Mark was about to press to move onto the next image.
“What is it?” Marks studied the picture to see what had captured Will’s attention. It looked horrific yet ordinary. He had taken it as they were driving away on the golf cart. Several of the Deathless were loping after them, and a couple of them were lying over something on the ground.
Kelly leant over and drew in a sharp breath as she saw what Will had seen. “There, you see those two on the ground.” She pointed a delicate finger at the screen.
“Yeah, they look like they’re eating something,” said Mark. He still hadn’t seen what they had and wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“They’re eating something all right,” said Will. “But it’s not one of us, is it? We know it’s not Rasmus, he was nowhere near us.”
“So...so who is it?” Mark zoomed in on the hideous image, reluctant to go too far, but inquisitive about what was under those two dead things.
“One of their own would be my guess,” said Kelly. “Jesus. If they’ve turned cannibal that would go some way to explaining their longevity. I mean, perhaps they find other Deathless who aren’t as...decayed, and feast on them; a bit like in the wild. There are some animals, crocodiles for example, who will eat their own. It’s not unheard of. It’s quite natural in a way. If the Deathless are doing the same then they’re going to be around a hell of a lot longer than we are.”
“There’s nothing natural about them. They don’t obey the laws of the universe like you and me. You know, we really do need to get going,” said Tug. He rolled his head on his shoulders, flexing all his tendons and muscles.
“Maybe they’re just thinning out the competition. Kill off the weaker ones so there’s more food for the stronger ones?” Will stood and stretched, his neck making cracking sounds as he extended it. He chose to ignore Tug. Hunching over the sofa had not been comfortable. Neither had looking at the vivid images Mark had taken.