Flowers Vs. Zombies: Genesis

by Perrin Briar

  “Baghdad, I read,” Bill said.

  “Virus?” Rohit said. “What virus?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Zack said. “It’d infected a dozen people in Oz before I left. I think they’re trying to keep a lid on it as much as they can, stop people from panicking, but how much control can you really do with something you can’t see, smell, taste or touch?”

  “They managed to control the spread of Ebola,” Dennis said.

  “That’s debatable,” Zack said. “One of these days something is going to spread like wildfire through the human race. We won’t even know what hit us until it’s too late.”

  “That’s the way to go,” Reg said. “A nice quick aggressive virus. It’ll be like shutting your eyes and going to sleep.”

  “Pleasant evening topic,” Dennis said, rolling his eyes.

  Midway through his eye roll Dennis double-took something in the corner of the room.

  A blonde woman, her back to him, sat at the bar, chatting to a young handsome man. She laughed, throwing her head back and leaning into him, touching his arm and knee as often as she could. She wore tight skinny white jeans and a tube top that left little to the imagination. Dennis licked his lips, a fan of the female form.

  The handsome man she was with smiled dopily at her. Then his expression changed when he saw a short dark woman enter the mess and cast around looking for someone.

  The handsome man got to his feet and backed away toward the small exit behind him. The dark woman hadn’t seen his impromptu exit, and continued to survey the crowd.

  The handsome man from the bar appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around the dark woman. She smiled and pointed to a pair of empty seats. The man looked at the blonde woman in tight jeans at the bar and shook his head, giving the dark woman a small smile. He led her outside.

  Having observed the scene, the blonde woman gave a small shrug and turned back to the bar. She took a swig from her bottle and gestured to the barman for another.

  Dennis loosened the top button of his shirt and began to get to his feet.

  “Or choking,” Reg said. “I always thought that’d be a good way to go. Choke, choke, choke, dead.”

  Reg threw back his head and downed the last of his whiskey. He became still, his eyes bulging. He grabbed his throat, making rasping noises.

  “Knock it off,” Dennis said. “We get it. You want to die. Just get it over with and do it.”

  But Reg continued to struggle. He kicked out, his foot connecting with Dennis’s chair, knocking him forward.

  “He’s choking!” Zack said.

  He got up and slapped Reg hard on the back, making a loud thud. Once, twice, three times, and the whiskey spewed out from Reg’s mouth and sprayed over Dennis, the offending ice cube striking his forehead.

  “You all right there, pal?” Zack said, rubbing Reg’s back. “Breathe. All right?”

  “God damn it!” Reg said.

  “Relax,” Zack said. “We all drink too fast sometimes.”

  Reg knocked Zack’s arm aside and glared at him.

  “Why did you have to go slapping me on the back for?” he said.

  “You were choking,” Zack said.

  “God was choking me!” Reg said. “Let Him take me if He wants me! This could have been my ticket out of here! Quick and painless! And you went and bollocksed it up!”

  Reg seized Zack by the collar.

  “Sorry!” Zack said, showing the palms of his hands. “I’ll remember for next time!”

  Reg’s glare lost its intensity and then faded completely. He released Zack’s collar. He seemed shaken, either by the effort or the shock of his actions, Bill couldn’t tell.

  “I’m sorry,” Reg said. “For snapping at you like that. You were only trying to do the right thing.”

  Excitement over, the other patrons returned to their conversations.

  “It’s all right,” Zack said, straightening his shirt. “If someone stopped me from doing something I really wanted I’d be angry too.”

  “Save someone’s life in future, if you can,” Reg said. “Don’t try to learn from this experience – other than some people aren’t worth saving.”

  Zack put his hand on Reg’s shoulder.

  “I’ve never met someone not worth saving,” he said.

  Reg smiled.

  “Thanks for saying that,” he said.

  Reg turned to Dennis, who was rubbing at the damp patches on his jacket.

  “I’m so sorry,” Reg said. “Please, let me pay to have your suit washed.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Dennis said, words laced with anger. “It’s only a five hundred dollar jacket. Can pick them up anywhere.”

  “I’d like to make it up to you,” Reg said. “Gloria will see you’re well taken care of.”

  Dennis’s ears perked up.

  “Gloria?” he said.

  Reg nodded to the blonde at the bar.

  “She’s with you?” Dennis said, disbelieving.

  “If you have enough money everyone’s with you,” Reg said. “Working in oil, at least you earn a few quid. Go up to her and say Reg sent you.”

  “This isn’t a joke?” Dennis said.

  Reg put his hand over his heart.

  “Cross my heart,” he said.

  “At least I can take your word for that,” Dennis said.

  Jacket forgotten, Dennis got to his feet.

  “Dennis, wait,” Bill said. He lowered his voice. “What happened to the fresh start?”

  Dennis looked from Bill to the blonde.

  “We haven’t arrived yet,” he said. “It begins at our destination.”

  He headed over to the bar and tapped the blonde on the shoulder. The blonde looked up and smiled – perfunctorily, Bill thought. Then Dennis pointed at Reg, who nodded to her. Her demeanour sagged. She finished up her drink and let Dennis order her another. She looked like she needed it.

  “I’d better go lie down,” Reg said, getting to his feet. “I’m not feeling so hot.”

  “Take it easy,” Zack said.

  Reg braced himself on the back of chairs as he headed toward the door.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” Zack said.

  “We can check on him later,” Bill said.

  Zack smiled and shook his head.

  “What?” Bill said.

  “Here we are, in a small boat at the end of the world,” Zack said. “Is there a worse place to have a crisis?”

  Chapter Five

  THE MIDDLE-AGED MAN in a purple suit staggered across the deck, reacting to the boat’s leanings with exaggerated force, bumping into the cabin walls, and then rotating back, hitting the railing on the other side.

  He tilted over the barrier as if considering whether or not to jump. He slid along the railing, his head flopping from one shoulder to the other, and drew up beside Fritz. His body tensed and he threw up over the side.

  “Welcome to the party,” Fritz said.

  The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” he said. “I hate being ill.”

  “I would shake your hand,” Fritz said, “but I can’t guarantee where it’s been.”

  “Neither can I. Let’s keep it informal then, shall we? I’m Reg Meadows.”

  “Fritz Flower.”

  Reg looked up into Fritz’s face, a spark of recognition in his eyes.

  “Your father’s Bill Flower, isn’t he?” he said. “You look the spitting image of him. Minus the wear and tear.”

  “That’s about right,” Fritz said.

  “Good man, your father. He knows how to talk to people. It’s an important skill, one well worth learning.”

  Reg’s smile waned and he wobbled on his feet.

  “Are you all right?” Fritz said.

  “I’ve just been feeling a little out of sorts lately.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  Reg massaged his eyes with his fingers.

  “That’s the mi
llion dollar question all right,” he said. “Can you point me in the direction of starboard?”

  Fritz did.

  “Can you get to your cabin all right?” he said. “I can give you a hand.”

  Reg chuckled.

  “And who’ll give you a hand while you’re doing it, I wonder?” he said. “I’ve been in a worse state than this many a time. Don’t you worry yourself.”

  A door swung open and Dennis and a blonde woman came out of the back entrance of the mess. The blonde took Dennis’s hand and led him into a dark alley.

  “At least someone’s going to have a nice night,” Reg said. “Women. Do yourself a favour and never ally yourself with one. They might look good, smell good, and do all the things you can dream of, but they’re vipers in disguise, out to get all they can from you.”

  “Surely not all women are like that,” Fritz said.

  “I’ve heard tales of other types, though I’ve never had the good fortune to meet one of them,” Reg said.

  He hacked into his hand.

  “I’m off,” he said. “Which way did you say starboard was?”

  Fritz pointed it out to him. Reg slapped Fritz on the shoulder and headed away. Fritz felt another retch coming over him and turned back to the railing. As he did, the moonlight caught the back of his white shirt.

  There was a bloody handprint on it.

  Chapter Six

  BILL WAS TIRED TO HIS bones. The long journey had finally caught up with him. He’d entered the state of exhaustion where the world moved in slow motion and he couldn’t focus on a single topic. He put his empty bottle on the table and was about to excuse himself when Priya ran to her uncle.

  “Uncle! Uncle!” she said. “My radio’s broken!”

  “I’ll fix it later,” Rohit said, keeping his attention on Zack, who was in the middle of a lecture on international legal matters – a subject Rohit had a great deal of interest in.

  “But the Happy Hopalong Show is on!” Priya said.

  “I can’t fix it right now,” Rohit said. “I don’t have my tools.”

  Priya’s shoulders sagged in a caricature display of disappointment.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Her uncle turned back to Zack, who extended his hand to Priya.

  “Let me have a look at your radio,” he said.

  Priya clutched her radio close to her chest.

  “My father has an electronics shop,” Zack said. “I worked there weekends, fixing stuff. I’m sure I can fix your radio.”

  But Priya didn’t relent.

  “If I can’t fix it I’ll buy you a new one, how about that?” Zack said. “A nice pink one like this one.”

  Priya looked into Zack’s honest open face and relaxed. Zack cleared a space on the table and sat the radio down. Priya went up on tiptoes to watch.

  “Would you like to see?” Zack said.

  Priya nodded. Zack picked her up and placed her on his knee.

  “Now,” Zack said, “the first thing we need to do is open the radio to see what the problem is.”

  He reached into his pocket and put a handful of coins on the table. There were currency denominations from half a dozen countries. Priya peered closely at each coin, inspecting them.

  Zack picked through them and chose the thinnest one, using its edge to turn the screws and open the back casing. Bill was surprised to see it consisted of a surprisingly small number of parts.

  “Ah!” Zack said. “Just as I thought! The aerial has come loose from the detector. It’s easily fixed.” He turned to Priya. “Do you want to do it?”

  Priya nodded. Zack took her small hands in his and touched the aerial with the detector. The speakers hissed. Priya started back, and the hissing stopped.

  “It’s all right,” Zack said. “That’s supposed to happen.”

  Priya reattached the aerial and clapped her hands.

  “What do you say?” Rohit said to Priya.

  Priya turned to Zack.

  “Thank you,” she said shyly.

  “You’re welcome,” Zack said with a smile.

  Priya hopped down and began fiddling with the dials.

  “I’m exhausted,” Bill said. “I’m going to call it a night.”

  “The night’s still early yet!” Zack said.

  “I’m not in my twenties anymore,” Bill said. “Or my thirties, come to think of it.”

  “So, what were you saying about international jurisdictions?” Rohit said to Zack, turning the conversation back to its original topic.

  “Looks like it’s party time for me too,” Zack mumbled under his breath. He turned to Rohit. “Where was I?”

  Bill picked up his jacket and draped it over his arm. Priya turned the radio dials, and voices like ghosts filtered in and out.

  “...worst catastrophe known to man...”

  “...find shelter and stay there...”

  The next speaker spoke Filipino, his words frantic and aggressive.

  “...any of the symptoms, you must seek aid immediately...”

  Then another Filipino speaker, this time wailing, sad and weeping.

  “...in a virus outbreak...”

  Some upbeat pop music kicked in. Priya smiled and moved her body to the beat.

  Bill took a step back, knocking his chair over. Zack stopped his conversation mid-stream and looked at him.

  “Did you hear that?” Bill said.

  “Hear what?” Zack said.

  He followed Bill’s sightline to Priya’s radio. Priya clutched it tight to her chest.

  “Priya’s music?” Zack said.

  “No,” Bill said. “What was on there while she was looking for her show.”

  “It was just static,” Zack said.

  Bill crossed the room to the barman.

  “Do you have a TV in here?” he said.

  “What?” the barman said in accented English.

  “TV,” Bill said. “Do you have a TV?”

  The barman pointed to the TV in the corner. It had been hollowed out and was now used as a fish tank.

  “What’s up, Bill?” Zack said.

  Bill kneeled in front of Priya.

  “Can I use your radio?” he said. “Just for a moment?”

  Priya looked up at her uncle, who shrugged.

  “It’s up to you,” he said.

  Then Priya looked at Zack, who nodded. It was all Bill could do not to snatch it out of her hands. She gave it to him.

  “Thank you,” Bill said.

  The tuner dials were in the shape of a unicorn’s legs. Bill turned the volume up full but the room was too loud to hear much. A man laughed raucously at the next table.

  The room sank into the depth of silence that sometimes happens in public places, and a voice on the radio said: “...has been a major outbreak.”

  Bill put the radio in the middle of the table. Priya reached for it but Zack held her back.

  “I repeat,” the voice on the radio said, “there has been a major virus outbreak along the west coast of America. We’re also getting reports of events occurring along the east coast, but details are sketchy. Reports are emerging of violence spreading across the continent of Europe, Africa, as well as the Middle East.

  “We’re unsure as yet of the validity of these claims, but it appears to be consistent with the virus rising across the globe in recent weeks. We are currently following reports from CNN and BBC News and we’re...”

  The radio hissed, the voice lost. Bill turned the dials minutely.

  “...police shooting civilians, I repeat, there are reports of dozens of deaths caused by police shooting civilians. We’re also getting unconfirmed reports the civilians attacked the police first. Armed forces have been dispatched to quell unrest in Washington D.C...”

  Bill, Zack and Rohit exchanged furtive glances.

  “We must tell everyone here what’s going on,” Rohit said.

  “No,” Bill said.

  “They deserve to know what’s happening,” Rohit said.
/>
  “They should stay calm,” Bill said. “A panic helps no one.”

  “You want to keep this just between ourselves?” Rohit said.

  The other patrons happily drank from brown glass bottles and talked over one another.

  “We’ll tell the captain,” Bill said. “Let him know what we know. Though he probably already knows more than us. He’ll be in contact with the port authorities.”

  “We can’t just sit here!” Rohit said. “What about our friends and family back home? Out there with these crazy people?”

  “We’ll contact them as soon as we can,” Bill said, “but there’s nothing we can do to help them right now.”

  “Easy for a man to say whose family is on board here, safe and sound,” Rohit said, his voice tight.

  “Rohit,” Zack said. “Bill’s right on this. We gain nothing by creating a panic on board, and that’s exactly what will happen.”

  “Look at them,” Bill said, peering at the people around them, drinking and chatting and laughing and having a good time. “Isn’t this better than screaming and crying and fear?”

  Rohit screwed up his mouth. He was silent for a moment.

  “Fine,” he said. “But I can’t just sit here. We have to do something.”

  “Sh-sh!” Bill said, hearing the rustle of papers and whispered voices on the radio.

  “News just in,” the newsreader said. “The virus has taken... Are we sure this is right?”

  A pause.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received a report telling us the virus has taken New York. I repeat, the virus has taken New York. We have no further information for you at this time, but if this is true none of us are safe... May God have mercy on us all.”

  Chapter Seven

  LIZ LAY ON THE BED with Francis cradled in her arms. She ran her fingers through his long floppy hair. He was in a deep sleep, his mouth hanging open, drool soaking the blanket.

  It was pitch black outside. The boys knew to be back before it turned dark. Liz checked her watch. It was eight o’clock. Then it occurred to her that ten o’clock in Chucerne did not necessarily have the same definition in the Philippines. In Switzerland it was still light by this time.