Domain of the Dead (19 page)

The second zombie had most of its face gnawed away. Flaps of skin hung down its cheek, revealing glistening gums and bone white teeth. Nathan tried to push the monster away, leaning his hip into it. He forced his axe down in front of its gnashing mouth as the zombie slapped and pawed, trying to reach its prey. A damp hand slapped between the handle of the axe and Nathan’s arm. Its fingers strained to claw at his face. One of the creature’s digits was missing and the fresh injury was still seeping. Nausea welled up inside Nathan’s gut as his cheek was prodded by the stump of the finger. The sensation of wet muscle and hard exposed bone sent torrents of convulsions writhing down his spine.

Sarah backed up, skittering down the corridor on her backside, kicking at the approaching ghoul as she went. In spasmodic kicks, Sarah endeavoured to keep the bare skin of her legs away from Doctor Robertson’s infecting nails. All too soon she felt the cold impasse of a bulkhead at her back and Doctor Robertson pulling herself ever closer.

A flash of red and Doctor Robertson’s head thundered to the floor. The handle of the fire axe quivered gently for a moment. Sarah looked at the doctor lying face down on the deck, axe embedded in the back of her skull. She looked up at Nathan half way down the corridor.

“You fucking idiot!” Sarah screamed, tears flooding down her cheeks. “You fucking idiot!” she screamed again, wedging herself into the corner.

“What?” Nathan said. He looked down at the remains of the now decapitated marine, then swivelled, looking about, worried by Sarah’s reaction that he’d missed something.

“You threw that!” Sarah screeched even more loudly than before pointing at the axe.

“Um... yeah,” Nathan replied, confused.

“You could have fucking killed me!”

“What?”

“What if you’d missed?! What then?!”

Nathan shrugged, mystified by Sarah’s attitude. “I was saving your life. Are you okay?”

Sarah stopped dead. She looked down at her legs and brushed her hands over her shins. She let out a sigh when she realised the skin was unbroken. Relieved she was okay, she looked up at Nathan. Only now did it register there was a bloody streak down one side of his face.

“Oh, Nathan,” Sarah sighed, releasing a saddened gasp.

“What?” he asked, brushing his cheek. He inspected the blood on his fingertips. “Oh, that.” He smiled. “No, it was that one.” He pointed to the beheaded corpse on the floor. “It was missing the end of a finger. It’s not my blood.”

Sarah spat on the sleeve of her shirt and wiped Nathan’s face clean like a mother before a school photo.

“I’m fine,” Nathan protested.

“Thank God,” she said, satisfied that he had avoided being scratched.

A command shot out, “On the deck now!”

Nathan and Sarah turned to see a marine with pistol drawn standing a few metres down the corridor.

It was Sarah’s turn to be stunned. “What?”

Nathan looked down at the three bodies in the corridor. “But—”

“On the deck now!” the marine shouted again. “Hands behind your head or I will fire!”

The door to the stairwell opened and a second marine appeared. Within seconds of surveying the scene he had his gun drawn and aimed at the survivors.

“Okay,” Nathan said softly as he raised his hands. He and Sarah lowered themselves onto the deck, careful to avoid the unsavoury patches of blood.

“What’s going on, corporal?” a familiar voice asked.

Sarah craned her head round to where Captain Warden had appeared.

“I heard screams, sir, and the sounds of a scuffle.” Not once did the soldier take his eyes or firearm off Sarah and Nathan. “When I got here Doctor Robertson and the other two crewmen were dead.”

Sarah lifted her head off the deck. “We didn’t kill them. They were already dead.”

Captain Warden squatted down in front of her. “What are you saying then?”

“They were both dead when we got here,” Nathan said. “They had already turned.”

The Captain seemed bewildered.

“They were walking dead,” Sarah elaborated and corroborated.

Without acknowledging either of them, Captain Warden bent down over the corpse of Doctor Robertson. He tucked his finger around to the side of the cadaver’s neck.

“Cold,” he pronounced.

He stepped down the corridor to the detached head. Unceremoniously he picked it up by the hair. He brought the dripping trophy up to eye level. With a casual air he swivelled the head, examining the incisions on its cheek. As it hung there, its jaw worked up and down and its eyes kept a lock on the Captain.

The pitiful animation of the decapitated zombie did nothing to phase Captain Warden’s stolid composure. Satisfied that the bite marks were human, he placed the head back on the deck.

“Marine,” he beckoned and went back to Doctor Robertson.

He placed his heel on her shoulders and the rest of his foot upon her neck. The old sailor’s weathered hands grasped the hilt of the axe and with one powerful tug freed it.

Captain Warden threw the axe to one side. “Marine, help me get this woman undressed.”

The marine was so bewildered by the order he only just managed to stutter out, “Wh—What?”

Warden was already down on the ground yanking off the Doctor’s pyjama bottoms.

“What’s going on?” Nathan said as he started to sit upright.

“Get down!” the second marine barked as he waved his gun.

Nathan lay back down but shot a concerned glance at Sarah.

The deceased doctor’s body now naked, Captain Warden sat there staring at her like a punter at some macabre peep show. He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and used it to move her blood-soaked hair. His fixation ceased. “Turn her over.”

The two men rolled her on to her back. Doctor Robertson gazed up at the ceiling, her mouth agawk.

Again Captain Warden studied her body. Like a sick necrophiliac he scanned every inch of the dead woman’s flesh.

“Sir?” the marine whispered, hoping the sound would break the uneasiness he felt.

“What’s that there, son?” Warden asked, using his pen as a pointer.

The marine blurted out, “I don’t know, sir.”

“Take a closer look, for Christ’s sake!” Warden bellowed.

The marine lent in. Doctor Robertson had an attractive figure in life and the marine was finding it hard to disassociate that with the nude corpse before him. The captain had insisted he look at her breasts. He took in a deep breath of air as if he were about to dive underwater, and started to really look at her body. On her right breast on the curve halfway between her nipple and her ribcage there was a dark patch of skin.

“Is it a bruise?” the marine asked.

Captain Warden prodded it with his pen. “Looks like a love bite and there’s a smaller one up by the shoulder.”

“A hickey? Is that how she got infected?” the nervous marine asked.

“Getting a love bite wouldn’t get you infected,” Sarah said.

“How do you know, lady?” Warden snapped.

“Because Doctor Robertson told me. The infection is passed in bodily fluids like blood and saliva.”

Warden walked over to Sarah and Nathan. “Someone needed to use their mouth to do that, and correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s where you usually find saliva.”

Sarah started to get up. The marine pointing his gun at her, taking his cue from the Captain, let her rise.

“The virus doesn’t get in through the skin—it’s an effective barrier. She told me.”

Captain Warden didn’t look convinced.

“It’s like most other viruses,” Sarah explained. “You can’t get it from touching it. Remember all the myths about catching AIDS?”

Warden nodded slowly.

“You wouldn’t catch it from sitting on a toilet seat because your skin keeps it out. It needs to get into your bloodstream. The same is true here—you won’t catch it from shaking hands. And you won’t catch it from a love bite.”

“But the infection is carried in saliva!” Warden countered.

“But they have to bite you to get the saliva into your bloodstream. All a love bite does is bring blood to the surface. It doesn’t break the skin, so it’s not transmissible.”

Warden was frustrated. “So if there’s no bite mark how did she get infected?”

Sarah wanted to speak, to say anything that might defeat this man’s ignorance, but she couldn’t. Captain Warden was right. There was no bite mark, no fresh scratch or cut on her body. No obvious cause of her infection. Nothing.

“It must mean the contagion has gone airborne!” Warden surmised.

“Not necessarily...”

Captain Warden spoke over her, “I’m no scientist, but I don’t see any other explanation.”

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her short again. “I may not know as much as you about how viruses spread,” he conceded, “but I know you can catch a cold from breathing in after someone sneezes.” He looked down at Doctor Robertson’s naked corpse. “Now it don’t take no degree to figure that she must have breathed it in.”

Sarah was stunned into silence. She wanted to offer up another explanation but she couldn’t think of one. The thought that Captain Warden was right was terrifying.

“We could all be infected by now,” said an obviously spooked marine.

“Corporal.” Captain Warden snapped at the marine, giving him a verbal slap across the face. The marine straightened up and let his worried expression be replaced with a look of obedient passivity. “Check Frankenstein’s lab. Make sure the specimen is secure. And you get this mess cleared up.”

“Yes, sir!” the marine barked.

Captain Warden turned to the second marine. “And you take these two to the brig. Then wake up Dr. Frankenstein. I want to speak to him in my office.”

“The brig?!” Nathan blurted. “But we’ve got nothing to do with this!”

Captain Warden stepped over to where Nathan lay. “Yesterday I had six more crewmen than I do now. And you’re the only reason I can figure.”

“But we’re not infected!” Sarah protested.

Warden pointed a rigid finger at her. “Until I know that for certain you’re spending your time in the brig.”

Nathan strained his neck to look up at the Captain, unsure whether he should just get up or wait to be ordered. His neck hurt from the strain, so he let his head rest on the cold metal deck. As he did something caught his eye. He looked at the dead sailor Doctor Robertson had been feasting on when he had come in. Something felt wrong. Something had changed, but what was out of place was oblivious to his conscious mind. He stared at the body, trying to work out what had drawn his attention. Then he saw it. The man’s hand twitched.

Captain Warden took a step back so he could punctuate his next statement with a wave of his arm. “Get them out of here, Corporal.”

The dead sailor on the deck reanimated. His eyes shot open and with bared teeth it lunged at Captain Warden’s calf.

Nathan screamed a warning but all it succeeded in doing was to make the Captain look down just in time to see the zombie clamp its jaws onto his leg.

Warden howled as he collapsed to the floor. The zombie pulled back, bringing with it a chunk of fabric and muscle.

The scream which boiled out from Captain Warden broke abruptly, silenced by the deafening gunshots. One of the marines had opened fire on the zombie, hammering a dozen bullets into it.

After the din of the shooting, the corridor was quiet for a moment. Sarah’s eyes were transfixed by the bloody mess the marine had made of the zombie. Several bullet holes were smattered across its upper chest and neck, but its head had been reduced to a pulp.

The silence was broken by a grunt forced out from behind clench teeth.

“Captain!” The marine bent down by the side of his stricken commander.

“Get them into the brig!” Warden hissed, looking at Sarah and Nathan. He then grasped the shirt of the marine bent over him. “Go get Doctor Frankenstein! Make sure he brings his med kit and his antidote!”

Sarah had to warn the captain. What Doctor Robertson and Professor Cutler had been working on was a vaccine, not a cure. She opened her mouth to speak, but Warden shouted over her.

“What are they still doing here?!” he bellowed. “Get them locked up!”

“Yes, sir!”

The marine whipped round. He grabbed Nathan by the arm and threw him to his feet. Still stumbling to find his balance, he found Sarah scooped up beside him as they were marched off to the brig.

“Come on, those were gunshots! Something’s wrong!” Bates protested. He stood at the door to his cell, gripping a bar in each hand.

“I’ve phoned the bridge, Bates. What more do you want me to do?” the guard asked.

Bates rattled his cage. “Let me out and we can go take a look.”

The guard shook his head vigorously. “Oh no, Bates. And end up in there with you when the old man finds out?”

Bates was about to protest again when the intercom buzzed. There was a short exchange before the door to the brig was opened and Nathan and Sarah came tumbling into the room.