The Grave: A Zombie Novel (17 page)

“It’s just a shame all those crops and fruits you talk about Rasmus are useless.” Mark took a photograph of a huge fern that was eleven feet tall. Its fronds offered them momentary respite from the rain.

“I hope those scientists are getting somewhere with their research,” said Will. “Imagine if we could harvest the Aqua-Gene. Imagine if it had actually worked. The people on this island wouldn’t be after our skin for starters. If all those millions of people were still alive today...”

“Then we’d have a different problem,” interrupted Rasmus. “We’d still not have enough food and water to go around. Millions would die of starvation or the diseases ass
ociated with lack of access to clean water. We bled the planet dry.”

“
It’s not the millions you talk about I’m so worried about,” said Mark. “We don’t have access to water, do we? I mean it’s all around us, but it’s tainted. We have to assume everything here is contaminated. One drop and we’ve got a death sentence. Apples, berries, whole fields of edible food and yet we can’t eat a mouthful. How long would we have if we did? A day or two? Jesus, I’m scared to pick my nose in case my hands have touched anything and picked up the infection.”

“If you get bitten or scratched by them, or if one of the dead gets their hands on you, you’ll soon know about it.” Will hunched his shoulders, trying to keep out the rain. “What is it, twenty, thirty seconds? You’re lucky you got
away, Mark. If they had bitten you anywhere, you would have been in agony for a few seconds and then death. After that...just more death. It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

They walked on in silence for a while. Mark noticed more of the plants and trees that Rasmus had pointed out. They were quite different to the ones he sat under in Central Park
on his free days. He was pleased he had kept his camera on him during the flight. He had thought of stowing it in his luggage, but didn’t trust the airlines not to lose his gear, as had happened when he had visited the Galapagos Islands once. His boss hadn’t let him forget the cost of shipping out a new camera and so Mark hadn’t made that mistake again. He had taken so many pictures so far that he could probably release a book. Not all of them would be suitable for publication though. He remembered the dead man who had attacked him earlier, the pictures he had taken of the crash site where Wilfred laid dead and the photo of the Deathless as they had advanced upon them yesterday. As far as Mark was concerned, this whole country was a death trap and the sooner they got out the better. Will was right; this place was evil. Either the Deathless or the land would kill them all given the opportunity.

Rasmus had his reasons for finding this place so fascinating, but
Mark wasn’t so convinced it was all scientific. It might be a bluff; just a ruse so they would think he wasn’t scared. If you spent your time thinking about the biology of the plant life and the exotic plants around them, it would undoubtedly take your mind off the fact there were dead people running around trying to eat them. He could see why so many people looked up to Rasmus though. He looked old, but he exuded an inner strength that belied his years. Mark wondered how Rasmus would cope when he finally retired. He seemed to enjoy imparting his knowledge and never came across as patronizing or ‘school-teacherly’ that so many did.

A
stark line of fir trees sat atop the hill ahead of them. The trees were stiff and immobile, their branches unbending in the wind. The rain battered their tall, solid trunks, but they stood firm, like a line of soldiers standing to attention. The sky was dim and gloomy matching the atmosphere and the road was curving around yet another bend.

The constant drizzle was cold and numbing, but it wasn’t
what was making Claire shiver. Up ahead nobody spoke. The only sound was of the rainwater as it hit the concrete, splashing off their hoods and jackets before trickling down into small running streams at the side of the road. Claire touched her phone in her pocket. She knew it was useless here, but she found it reassuring. She had tried many times to get a signal. Every time though was a failure. Now, as she walked, she just gently touched the buttons and traced her fingers around its metallic edge. It reminded her of home. It was all she had now to link her to her family who were back home in New York wondering where she was and why she hadn’t contacted them. She should’ve been at the base now helping Kelly and settling in for her first scientific expedition. Instead, she had a broken wrist and a bleak future. Her mother had always told her to ‘look on the bright side.’ Whenever she had struggled at school or had boy trouble she had remembered that. She could picture her mother right now when she had said it. Claire had been eight and a bully at school had taken her milk carton. It seemed ridiculous now, but she had gone home crying. Her dad had told her to fight back, but her mother had consoled her and told her, ‘Look on the bright side. When you got home, you’ve got me and you father. We love you. That bully is probably going home miserable to a family that can’t afford to buy milk cartons. She’s not happy. Karma, Claire - what goes around comes around.’

Claire found herself welling up as she thought about home. She took her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen once more. The signal was still dead. Her battery was weak too. She hoped she would be able to ring or email her mother before it died too. Claire looked up into the rain. The sky above looked as dark as it had when she’d woken up
.

The descent was slow, even slower than when they had been going uphill. The rain was making the road very slippery and at
times, it got quite steep. They had to pass several houses as they descended and when they could not go around, they crept by, quite literally, for fear of arousing what might be inside.

As they walked
on, the sky finally began to clear once again.  The clouds were dispersing and the sun was shining, poking its head through the wispy clouds like a scared baby. They followed the road and it levelled out. A feral cat darted across the road and Tug stopped, surprised. He watched, as it stayed hidden in the long grass. The cat watched them carefully and Tug waited for the others to catch him up.

“It’ll be good
when we get down,” said Rasmus. “My legs are not used to all this exercise. My left knee is killing me. I’m certainly beginning to feel my age.”

“I think we all are,
” said Kelly. “I’m just pleased that the rain has stopped. Seriously, what’s with this weather? I suppose it’s that indecisive spring pattern of sunshine and showers.”

“H
uh, look at that. Looks like your exercise is not finished yet, Rasmus.” Suzy pointed ahead of them and Rasmus saw the huge, gnarled oak tree that was blocking their path. Its mammoth trunk completely blocked the road. It had been split in two and the bark was charred and burnt.

“Probably hit by lightning,” said Rasmus approaching the fallen tree. He examined the branches that
were sticking out in all directions. At the base, the tree’s roots had been unearthed from the ground and were rotten and damp. The branches were stark and devoid of leaves. “It’ll be difficult climbing over the poor fella. One slip and it’s a painful landing. We should go round.”

Tug watched as the cat disappeared into the undergrowth. Rasmus began heading for the exposed massive roots and Kelly followed, signalling for the others to join them. She noticed that either side of the road were other tall trees, but not oaks or elms. With their silvery
bark, they looked more like eucalyptus trees. She hadn’t seen anything like them so far and they looked out of place against all the other greenery around. The grass was different too. On the hillsides, it was thick and overgrown, covered in weeds and gorse. Here it was long and unkempt, although few weeds grew. Almost hidden by a thick bush, she noticed the distinct façade of a building. The glass doors had been broken, and the outer walls were thick with grime, but the sign above the door was clear.

“Hey, I think we’re by a golf course,” she announced.

“Well, I’d love to stop for a round, but I didn’t bring my clubs,” said Will. He joined Kelly at the roadside, watching Suzy and Claire walk lightly through the grass, as if they were scared to walk on it. “You think there’s anything worth stopping for in there?”

There was an old transit van parked in the driveway and the metal had rusted away so it looked as if it were painted a light brown. Will had thought for a moment
that they could take it and drive away, but of course, the battery would be dead. Even if they were lucky enough to find a vehicle with keys in it and a tank of petrol, the body would’ve rusted so much it probably wouldn’t even hold together if they got in. They would be lucky to find any solar powered vehicles around. They had not been made in over ten years now since the world’s resources were put towards dealing with the Deathless. The production of many luxury items such as solar powered cars, high-end clothing and mobiles had long been abandoned.

“Might be
some food or something in there?” Kelly said it half as a statement and half as a question. She knew it was going to take a long time to reach the coast and was worried they hadn’t enough to eat to keep them going.

Tug briskly walked past. “Keep moving.” He didn’t give the others a glance. He noticed Rasmus bending down at the tree roots and wanted to shout at them. Why were they even thinking of stopping? Rasmus was too busy admiring the
island’s vegetation and the others were easily distracted too. They needed to keep moving. Who knew when the Deathless would catch up with them. If they thought they were going to stroll out of this, they were wrong.

“We should keep going. It looks
deserted. It just looks horrible and cold and...empty.” Suzy tugged on Will’s sleeve and he trudged back onto the road behind her.

“Come
on, Rasmus,” said Kelly, leaving. “Whatever you’ve found will have to wait for another day.”

Rasmus was examining the base of the tree.
The sun was now shining brilliantly and steam was rising from the damp ground. A family of possums had made a drey in the tree’s tangled roots and the remains of one of the young were curled up in the nest. A few scraps of flesh and tissue still stuck to its bones and Rasmus was poking at the body with a short stick he had broken off the tree. “Uh-huh,” was all he said as Kelly departed.

Claire hurried to join up with Suzy as Mark and Tricia approached. Mark took some snaps of the
clubhouse and the bones of the baby possum. He couldn’t understand Rasmus’ fascination with the place and so he hurried to catch up with Will and Kelly, wanting to talk to them more about The Grave. He needed some background information to go with his photographs.

Tricia knelt down beside Rasmus, taking the
rare opportunity to rest. The most exercise she normally did was walking to the hotdog cart outside work at lunchtime. “Having fun, Rasmus?”

“
Mmm, yes, I was just inspecting the remains of this poor creature. It’s quite unusual. It’s clearly an infant. You can see from the bone structure and the jaw. Here, see where the teeth haven’t fully formed? Yet it is really quite large for a newborn. If I was to guess, I would say it was an adult, yet it clearly never reached maturity. I was also trying to establish if it died of natural causes or if the presence of the Aqua-Gene in this tree might have had something to do with it.” With the stick, he continued poking at arm’s length around the bones.

Tricia was exhausted. She watched R
asmus working and wanted a rest so she let Rasmus talk. “How so?”

Rasmus kept his back to her as he spoke
, crouching down in front of the old drey. “Well, it’s entirely natural to suppose this possum died of natural causes. Nature has not yet eschewed the ideal of ‘natural selection,’ or ‘survival of the fittest’ and all that. But by the looks of this tree, it’s been dead a long time, perhaps long before the lightning strike brought it down. I was wondering if the possum might have eaten something nearby which caused it to turn.”

“
Surely, it would have reanimated if that were the case. If it had, you wouldn’t be poking around in its bones right now, would you?” Tricia turned her nose up as a thick dollop of blood trickled from the possum’s mouth.

“Absolutely.
But see how the skull is crushed? All the other bones are intact. I wonder if its family somehow knew it was turning and killed it. If so, did they do it out of protection for themselves or some kind of pity for the diseased creature? Some sort of euthanasia possibly. It really is truly fascina...”

Rasmus jumped back as a shrill scream pierced the still dewy air.
As he scrambled up, he knocked Tricia over onto the wet grass. He pulled her up and they looked down the road in the direction of the scream. The others were running, waving their arms above their heads. There was a clang as Will’s pickaxe struck the ground. He had swung it at an approaching Deathless and it had smashed through a head with ease. Unfortunately, it had slipped from Will’s grip when he had swung it, and it had fallen behind more of the Deathless. There was no way to retrieve it. The others were trying to fend off their attackers with the old floorboards, but against an army this size, it was like swatting flies with a matchstick.

Tricia brushed herself down, wiping the dirt from her clothes. “What
the hell…”

Rasmus grabbed her arm.
“Oh dear. Oh my dear, we had better run I think.”