by D. R. Martin
“Iris,” he whisper-shouted. “Slow down! I can’t see you!”
Then he quickly turned around, looking for Nina. He couldn’t see her either!
Panic rose up in Johnny’s throat like some bitter acid.
He seemed to be all by himself in the dark, dismal woods, immersed in a gray soup. In a strange country. Surrounded by rampaging zombies.
Okay, he thought, calm down. Take a deep breath.
The best thing he could do was keep moving forward. That’s the only way he’d find Marko and Iris. And if he went back to look for Nina, she might pass him in the fog.
He darted forward only a few dozen steps, when he heard a familiar and very welcome voice behind him.
“Don’t go so fast. You’ll break a leg.”
It was Nina, emerging from the murk. When she saw his face, she looked concerned.
“What’s the matter, Johnny?”
“I lost sight of Iris. I’m trying to find her. Why in heckfire hasn’t Marko stopped? We must be far enough from the train to be safe by now.”
Raj zoomed up to them. “Let me go up ahead and find the others.” He darted away, vanishing into the fog.
Johnny and Nina tramped onward. Then, a couple of minutes later, there were Marko, Iris, and Petunia—with Raj floating above them, looking this way and that.
The two sisters stood side by side, Iris clutching her broken arm next to her chest. Petunia was patting her hand, repeating, “Poor baby, poor baby.”
“Oh, don’t fuss over me, Pet,” Iris said. “A little broken arm’s nothing to worry about.”
Johnny went up to Marko, scowling. “I thought you were supposed to be looking out for Nina and me. You’re going too fast. You’ve gotta make sure that we can all see each other when we’re moving through this fog.”
Marko’s face flushed with anger. “I set the pace, mate, and you follow. I guess if you’re not fast enough, then I’ll have to slow down. I just didn’t think you were that sluggish afoot.”
Now Johnny was really mad. He’d always thought that, for a runty kid, he could move pretty quickly. And this guy was calling him sluggish.
“Listen, Marko, I was the third fastest kid in my phys ed class back at Grover Falkland Junior High. And the football coach said that if I could put on a few more inches and pounds that he’d like me to go out for junior varsity and…”
“Stop it, you two!”
Both Johnny and Marko were startled by the interruption, and swiveled to blink at a frustrated-looking Nina.
“We’re fleeing for our lives, and you two are arguing about who’s fast and who’s slow. Save it for later. You should be worrying about Iris.”
Johnny took a deep breath and nodded. Nina was right. “Sparks, do you think you can splint Iris’s arm until we get to a doctor or nurse?”
“If I can find two or three solid sticks and tear a few pieces of cloth from someone’s clothes.”
“Then what?” Marko still sounded hostile.
“We wait for Clegg and Boo to find us,” Johnny snapped.
“And if they don’t?”
For that question, Johnny could only think of one answer.
“Then we go on without them.”
* * *
Two hours later, they were still waiting. Johnny strained his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the sergeant or the private emerging from the fog. But the two ghost troopers never appeared. Johnny decided that if he and Nina were going to continue on their mission, they’d have to do it without the colonel, the troopers, and Rex.
And that meant they had to rely solely on Marko and Iris to guide them and keep them safe. But Johnny needed to make it clear that he wouldn’t follow the guy’s orders blindly. This was still all about getting Johnny and Nina behind enemy lines. And finding out what Percy Rathbone was up to.
“I say we plow on to Chippington-in-the-Vale,” Johnny announced. “We’ll go on just as we’ve planned.”
Marko fixed a narrow-lidded stare at him. “The SGS hired me and Iris to take you around MacFreithshire. It’s pretty clear, though, that this’ll be harder and more dangerous than we ever thought. I’ve decided that we give up on this attempt and backtrack to Higgsmarket as best we can.”
Was Marko serious? Did he really think Johnny would give up just because of one little zombie attack? He had been through lots worse. Anyway, Higgsmarket had to be dozens of miles back.
Johnny thought it would almost be a relief to be rid of Marko. “You do what you want. Nina and I took on this assignment and we intend to follow it through. Got that? Now which way is Chippington?”
Marko shrugged. “How would I know? I can’t see anything in this bloody fog.”
Nina grabbed her pack up from the ground. “Anyone in my Woodland Guide troop back in Zenith would know just what to do.” She pulled a compass from one of the pack’s many pockets, held it in her hand, and squinted down at it.
“I understand that Chippington is northwest of Higgsmarket. That way, I think.” She pointed straight ahead.
Marko whispered a few words to Iris and Raj, then turned back to Johnny. “Well, I guess I don’t get paid unless I bring you back alive. So, we’ll stick with you for now. Lead on, Miss Bain.”
* * *
With Nina now at the front of the line—regularly checking her compass and looking at the map that Iris had brought—they tramped through the foggy woods. This time, they took care to stay close to each other. But for a change, the dismal ground clouds lifted slightly, and they could clearly see a two-lane paved road that curved through the forest of oaks and elms. They took only a moment to get there.
Iris, still holding her splinted arm close to her, looked around and smiled. “This here’s Kilborn Road. The main road into Chippington from the south. We just follow along a few miles, and we can walk right into town. I spent time here when I was younger.”
“I died in Chippington,” Petunia put in. “Typhoid fever.”
Iris put her good right arm around Petunia’s narrow little shoulders, and pulled her close.
It always made Johnny feel bad, hearing how a kid ghost had died. But what could anyone do? Death was a part of life.
Just at that instant, Johnny heard the rumble of a truck up ahead, coming their way. They couldn’t be seen by the army or the police! If they were, that would be the end of their zombie adventure. The cops or the soldiers were sure to take them back to some safe place, far away from any bog zombie action.
“Everyone!” Johnny shouted. “Off the road. Now!”
Not fifteen seconds later, three big trucks—they called them lorries here—came rolling by, heading south. They were painted the olive drab of army vehicles everywhere and were open in back. Johnny figured there would be soldiers in them, or policemen. And there were, in a manner of speaking.
All three trucks were packed with uniformed men, also in olive drab, who had been bandaged up and patched together. Most were seated on benches, but a few lay on stretchers, being tended to by medics. They looked as if they had been in a real fight, and had taken the worst of it.
If the zombies could do this to trained soldiers, what could they do to four kids with no weapons at all?
Chapter 17
Late in the afternoon, Johnny and his companions—exhausted, dirty, and sweaty—tramped into Chippington-in-the-Vale. They were shocked to see what looked like a prosperous village so empty and abandoned. Johnny noticed a couple of faces watching them through windows, and someone running across a street up ahead. But that was all. Hardly anyone seemed to be around. Even the ghosts acted wary of the newcomers.
With ghosts on his mind, Johnny kept looking back down the road, hoping to catch sight of the colonel or Sergeant Clegg or anyone from the First Zenith Brigade. But no one appeared through the fog.
One wraith, however, did approach them. She was a horsewoman, wearing high leather boots, a black jacket over a white blouse, tan jodhpurs, and a badly dented helmet. In her right hand, she carried a
short whip, which she kept cracking against her left hand. And oddly, following right behind her, practically like a pet dog, was the ghost of a fox.
“Oh, look at the pretty fox,” Petunia said. “Does he belong to you?”
“He belongs to no one,” the dead rider answered. “Let’s just say we’ve become fast friends. Ever since I was thrown from my horse and landed on top of him. Ended things for both of us.”
Petunia reached down to stroke the fox, who quickly darted away, behind the woman’s legs—considerably shyer than his mistress.
“Name’s Lady Cordelia Graves-Burgoyne, by the way. Listen, chaps. If you’ve come to do some shopping in old Chippie, I’m afraid you’ve picked the worst possible time. We’ve had an infestation of rude tourists from the north. Never seen anything like them before. Nothing but a bunch of thugs and criminals. Ransacked the town and set fire to St. Egbert’s School.”
Nina peered at Lady Cordelia through her etheric goggles. “Didn’t the townspeople do anything to fight them off?”
“They came and went so quickly, we hardly had time to react. I took after a few of them. Tried to administer a good whipping, but my riding crop just went right through them. Moments like that are when I really detest being a ghost.”
“If you really want to wallop them, I could help you,” Johnny said. “All you have to do is agree to work for me.”
“Work for you?” She laughed, as if the notion were ridiculous. “My dear boy, I am a Graves-Burgoyne. No Graves-Burgoyne has ever worked a day in his or her life!”
“Well, maybe you can consider it something other than work, Lady Cordelia. I won’t be paying you, after all. Maybe you can volunteer to help.”
“Well, that’s more my cup of tea. Always felt that the nobility was obligated to help the common people whenever possible.”
Johnny heard a low rumble coming from Marko. He could sympathize—this woman didn’t seem to have a clue how insulting she sounded. But she could serve a purpose, now that she had agreed to be useful. Of course, she would be vulnerable to injuries from zombies, as well. That was the arrangement, when a ghost interacted with the real world—they could inflict pain, but also receive it.
“All right, then,” Johnny said. “We have a deal. So I’m empowering you to go after any of those foreign tourists and give them a good beating with your whip. Whenever and wherever they appear.”
The ghost grinned. “Now that sounds like a ripping good time. Though I must admit, I’m feeling a bit of a twinge in my elbow. Still, I should be able to crack the old whip a few times.”
“One more thing,” Johnny said. “Do you know of any good lodgings around here?”
“Try the Dusk Rose Hotel, up on the hill. You can’t miss it—it’s just across from the infirmary.”
With that, the ghost snapped a cheery “Tally ho!” and marched off with an air of militant determination. The fox trotted behind.
“I think I’m rooting for the zombies in that fight,” Marko snorted under his breath. “Upper crust like her always get under my skin.”
* * *
Johnny felt incredibly lucky that a doctor was on duty at the infirmary—a kind of tiny hospital. The doc wanted to know why a bunch of children were on their own in the midst of this emergency. She said that if the phones hadn’t been knocked out, she would have reported them to the authorities. Nonetheless, the wiry, middle-aged woman put a cast on Iris’s arm and fitted her with a sling. She also checked out the girl’s black eye and said it would feel better in a few days.
Before they left the infirmary, Johnny felt a tugging on his sleeve. He turned and saw Petunia, the girl ghost, blinking up at him.
“Would you please tell the doctor that I’m sick, too,” Petunia said. “My whole body is sore and I have a headache.”
Johnny patted her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Petunia, but I don’t think the doctor would be able to treat a ghost.”
But it was pretty weird, Johnny thought, that so many ghosts he knew were complaining of pain. Sure, wound a ghost and it hurts him or her for a while. But mostly, ghosts were not supposed to feel ill. So what was up? Johnny would have to ask Mel and Dame Honoria next time he saw them.
As he and the others walked out of the infirmary, the doctor stood watching them, her hands on her hips, very much the disapproving adult. “Be it on your heads, then, if you come to a bad end. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
When they walked into the Dusk Rose Hotel a moment later, they found an innkeeper who was only too glad to see paying guests. He hadn’t had any for several days and offered them four rooms for the price of two. He even threw in a free supper of mutton stew, to boot. Like the doctor, he was quite surprised to see a troop of kids out on their own. He thought they had all been evacuated after the attack on St. Egbert’s. But unlike the physician, he seemed to have no parental tendencies. To him, they were simply paying customers.
Johnny was especially relieved to have a comfortable bed and room all to himself. He wouldn’t have to share with Marko. He could at least count on a good night’s sleep.
After settling in, Johnny tried to make a long distance call from the telephone at the front desk. He wanted to contact Dame Honoria to tell her that he and Nina were okay. But the hotel phone was out of service.
At the long table in the dining room that evening, Johnny, Nina, Marko, and Iris gobbled up their mutton stew in silence. It was rather tasteless and chewy, Johnny thought. But probably nutritious and undoubtedly filling. They might not have another hot meal like it for days to come. Marko practically wolfed down his chow, then excused himself. He said he wanted to go to the pub down the street and see if anyone there had recent news about zombie attacks in the area.
“When we were at the infirmary,” Johnny said, catching Iris’s eye, “Petunia said that she wasn’t feeling good. She wanted the doctor to look at her.”
Iris gave him a sad smile. “She knows she’s dead and she knows she’s a ghost, but she still is just a little girl, too. She misses being the center of attention. Our mum doesn’t have etheric vision, so I let her know when Pet needs a little loving. And then I put Pet right in front of Mum, and Mum gives her a long, tight hug.”
“But does she ever feel sick?” Johnny wondered.
“No. That’s what’s odd about this. Because Pet never complains about feeling ill.”
Iris’s words made Johnny curious. He turned to Raj, who was sitting at the end of the table, looking on enviously as the youngsters filled their stomachs. “How are you feeling, Raj?”
“I have a bit of a headache,” the ghost said, rolling his shoulders.
“Ever have one before, since you’ve been a ghost?”
Raj shook his head. “Nope.”
“It is a little peculiar,” Johnny said, remembering that Private Boo was also feeling unwell. What was going on?
There was something else on Johnny’s mind. “Iris, I was curious. How did you and Marko get involved in this kind of work?”
Iris set her spoon down in the mutton stew, and daubed at her mouth with the blue linen napkin.
“Marko lost his mum young. He lives with his bachelor uncle, who’s a copper. And he’s always wanted to be a copper himself, when he grows up. Well, being streetwise and knowing his way around Higgsmarket, he started to pick up bits of information about this and that. He became an informant on crimes committed by kids. He even saved an old lady’s life once, when her nephew was mistreating her. Now Marko’s practically on the force.”
“But why is he so, well, abrupt?” Nina asked. “He doesn’t seem to know the common courtesies.”
Iris shrugged. “He’s just acting the way he’s seen his uncle act, the way he’s seen other coppers act. He doesn’t really care about the social graces, that’s for sure.”
“So how’d you get involved with him?” Johnny had been wondering whether their relationship was strictly about business.
“My dad never had the knack of making much money.
So being one of the few people around Higgsmarket who can see ghosts, I’m apprenticed to an etherist in town. She’s teaching me what she knows, and I can bring home some coin that way. And in a few years, I’ll have myself a good trade.”
“You’re not in school?” Nina asked.
“Not anymore. But that’s where I met Marko, before he went on the streets as an informant. I sometimes go spying with him, when he needs a girl to check things out. For this assignment he wanted another set of eyes that could see ghosts, so he asked me to come along.”
She pointed to the plaster cast on her left arm. “Don’t know how much use I’ll be, though.” Then she looked at Johnny and kind of fluttered her eyelashes. “Marko told me a little about you, Johnny. I understand you’re quite the hero.”
A big, goofy grin broke out on Johnny’s face. He was about to describe his dauntless deeds of the past few months, when he saw Nina glaring at him.
“Well,” he stammered, “I didn’t do it alone.”
Just then Marko appeared in the dining room door and came over to the table.
“Did you find out anything?” Johnny asked.
Marko sat down at the table. “I overheard two men at the pub. Tomorrow the police are planning a sweep of the town for youngsters. To haul them south, to safety. You know what that means?”
“That means there better be no slugabeds in this outfit,” Johnny said grimly. “We gotta get outta here as early as we can in the morning.”
Chapter 18
Monday, February 3, 1936
Chippington-in-the-Vale
After a hurried breakfast of porridge and tea at the inn, Johnny and the rest headed north out of Chippington, in the direction of St. Egbert’s School. It was well before dawn, so they managed to dodge any authorities that might want to drag them off to safety.
“I know right where St. Egbert’s is,” Raj had said, flying ahead. “When I was alive, I went along with my dad to deliver eggs to the school.”
Petunia said she felt better this morning, although “my left knee hurts a bit.” Johnny still was puzzled by the sudden appearance of aches and pains in his ghostly friends. It might indicate something important. But he had no idea what.