Flowers Vs. Zombies (Book 5) Buried Page 3

  They were heading for the cave where they kept their emergency raft to escape. It was the very same boat they had used to escape The Adventurer all those months ago. They would get to it and sail into the sunset, never to look back nor set foot on the island ever again. If the Overlord In Black wanted the island so badly, he could have it. Bill just wanted to be safe with his family.

  They had lost the island, Bill realized. They had defeated the creatures, but it did not feel like a victory, but a loss. It was the look of people who had lost their home. And it had been their home. It had taken some time, but that was what the island meant to them. They would be sad to see it go. But if the only way to survive was to leave it all behind, then that was what they would do.

  Beast was perched on Fritz’s shoulder, and though Francis wanted desperately to take Valiant with them, the family had convinced him to set him free to run wild, just as they had done with the rest of the animals. Better for them to have a chance of survival than to be tortured and mutilated at the hands of the Overlord In Black.

  Finally, they reached their destination.

  “Wait here,” Ernest said, displaying a level of courage he had rarely shown before.

  He approached the bluff of hill and peered over the side. He turned pale at what he saw. He turned back to the family.

  “What is it?” Bill said.

  “They’re already there,” Ernest said.

  “What do you mean they’re already there?” Bill said.

  He approached the hill’s crest and peered over the side. He too had turned pale.

  “Ernest is right,” he said. “The area is jammed with the living dead.”

  “Milling around,” Ernest said, “as if they’re waiting for us.”

  “How could he know about our boat?” Liz said. “He’s just found out about us!”

  “Maybe he’s been watching us for a while,” Fritz said. “Keeping tabs on us and our comings and goings.”

  “Or he has access to information about us another way,” Bill said with a frown.

  “How?” Liz said. “According to Francis, he didn’t ask Rupert and Manuel about us before he sent them away.”

  “No,” Bill said. “But…”

  He hesitated. He didn’t want to sound like he was going crazy, which he was almost certain he would if he voiced his thoughts. Who would believe what Bill was about to say next? That he had seen intelligence—human intelligence at that—in the eyes of the apes they’d fought earlier.

  “What?” Liz said.

  “This is going to sound crazy,” Bill said.

  “If we told anyone anything that has happened to us on the island they would say we were crazy,” Liz said.

  She was right about that, at least.

  “Back there, when we were fighting those apes, did any of that seem strange to you?” Bill said.

  Liz gave him an appropriately flat expression.

  “Okay,” Bill said. “Wrong choice of words. Did the apes act strangely to you? Differently to what they would usually behave like?”

  “Yes,” Liz said with a frown. “They were attacking us. They never attacked us before.”

  They were getting nowhere. It was no good being abstract and wasting time.

  “Francis told us this Overlord In Black could control the undead,” Bill said. “What if he can control animals too?”

  His family didn’t laugh at him. It was an encouraging sign.

  “And what if he also had access to their thoughts and memories?” he said.

  “How could that be possible?” Ernest said.

  “It doesn’t matter how,” Bill said. “Only that it is. The virus affects the human brain in ways we can’t possibly understand. What if it could positively affect human intelligence as well as negatively? What if it could give intelligence as well as take it away?”

  The family was silent.

  “You’re serious about this?” Liz said.

  “More serious than about anything,” Bill said. “What I’m saying is, he might have access to others’ memories. Don’t ask me how he can do it, or even why, but that he can. Then, he would know all about the places and settlements we set up here, all without needing to talk with anyone or anything.”

  It was a frightening prospect, but one they all believed.

  “Then what do we do?” Fritz said. “If he knows everything about what we’ve built here already…”

  “Think,” Bill said to Liz. “Did you ever mention the Cove to Rupert?”

  “No,” Liz said. “Why?”

  “Because if we can get there, we’ll have somewhere safe to hideout, at least for a little while,” Bill said.

  “What makes you say that?” Liz said.

  “Because according to Francis this guy didn’t speak to the men about us, right?” Bill said. “Nothing about where we live or anything. And yet he knows our lifestyle intimately. How can this be? He must have some kind of ability to read their memories. And if he’s got that kind of power, how is it he can’t control us?”

  “None of this matters,” Liz said. “We don’t want to be a part of his world.”

  “I’m afraid he might be what the world is now,” Bill said. “There’s no way of knowing what is happening out there, what effect this virus, disease, whatever it is, is having on the world and infrastructure. But supposing they’re not all stupid. Supposing they come in different levels of intelligence. Some are stupid and unable to think for themselves, while others can learn and change and advance and develop.”

  “Like us?” Ernest said.

  “Like a human,” Bill said. “But more than human. Something else, the next step in our evolution. Every disease, virus and ailment known to man affects a creature in much the same way, but never exactly the same. What if the virus doesn’t affect everyone exactly the same? What if there are levels to how they respond to their environment? They might have other skills or abilities. They’re all clearly undead, but some might be smarter than others, as we are each of us smarter or stronger than one another.”

  “I don’t like that idea,” Ernest said.

  “It doesn’t matter if you like it or not,” Bill said. “We have seen evidence, and the theory fits with the evidence we have all witnessed. This zombie in black is not a typical non-thinking undead entity. As for the apes we faced earlier, I’m certain they could see and think. Not the way a great ape does, but with an intelligence behind the eyes.

  “If we’re going to destroy this undead in black we’re going to have to come up with a plan first. We have to use our own intelligence to defeat him. But it’s not going to be easy. Every time we encounter him and we do not defeat him, he will become stronger, more powerful. We will have to keep coming up with new ideas because he will keep learning.”

  “I’m scared,” Francis said.

  “We all are,” Bill said. “This is a powerful enemy we find ourselves faced with. There’s nothing to not be scared about.”

  The family turned and headed back the way they had come. They hung a right and made their way through the thick jungle foliage in the direction they all knew well.

  Bill had made the little Cove for Liz as a present, a place for her to hang out and be by herself. It was an effective hideout because it was nigh-on invisible from the jungle vantage and there was little chance anyone would see them inside if they didn’t already know it was there. It was perched on the bluff of a cliff that looked out over the sea, to the great horizon beyond. There was a window, but it was high up, and only looked out onto the cliffs on the other side. The rolling, roiling white rapids of the sea crashed into the rocks below.

  Fritz and Ernest gently put Jim’s stretcher down inside the Cove, sweat staining their backs, their shirts clinging to their skin. The room was small and cramped, but they at least had some food and water to sustain themselves. Enough to keep them alive, at least for a short time. After that, they were on their own.

  They were safe. For now.

  Chapter Eleven<
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  BEAST WAS a godsend. It was a huge advantage that they were able to hunt without needing to physically go out themselves. The best part was Beast never returned without bringing something back clutched in his claws. Sometimes it took an hour, sometimes half a day, but he always returned.

  There was a small hole that they had a fishing rod sitting in. They hadn’t had much luck so far, catching a small salmon barely large enough as a snack for Francis. But one day they might get lucky.

  Meanwhile, the family, especially Fritz and Jack, were going stir crazy. They were physical beings and needed time outside by themselves. Fritz filled his time equally between working out and antagonizing Ernest. Jack spent all his time climbing the walls—literally.

  “What are we going to do?” Liz said. “The boat is off limits; our home is overrun…”

  “We’ll think of something,” Bill said, taking the rat from Beast’s claw. “We always have before.”

  “Until then, we’re supposed to just sit tight?” Fritz said.

  “There’s little else we can do till we think of a way out of here,” Liz said.

  “Stalemate,” Ernest said, shaking his head.

  “Maybe if we can figure out what he wants, we can just give it to him,” Liz said.

  “Most disappointing of all,” Bill said. “He doesn’t want anything from us.”

  He slit the rat open and removed its guts and tossed them to Beast, who caught and ate them with relish. The rat was a small meal and they could hardly afford to give Beast so much of the rations, but they would need to keep him strong if they were to keep using him to hunt.

  “Then why is he doing this to us?” Liz said.

  “Because he’s sick and twisted,” Bill said. “He just wants to play with us, to destroy us. That’s all he’s ever wanted, right from the start. We’re never going to survive if we can’t think of a way out of this.”

  “Don’t we have even a small chance of success?” Liz said.

  Bill checked over his shoulder, ensuring the boys couldn’t see nor hear him.

  “No,” he said. “We must leave. Now.”

  “And he’ll leave us alone?” Liz said. “Once we do run?”

  “Yes, if he can’t find us,” Bill said.

  “But he will come for us,” Liz said.

  “Yes,” Bill said.

  “We’ll increase our chances if we leave him here,” Fritz said, pointing to Jim.

  He didn’t want to say his name. That turned him into a real person. It made leaving him behind to starve to death infinitely more difficult.

  “What are we going to do with Jim?” Fritz said. “We can’t exactly take him with us.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Bill said.

  “Why?” Fritz said. “We’ll be taking all this risk for nothing. Do you really want to take the risk when you know full well he wouldn’t do the same for us?”

  “There’s no knowing that,” Bill said. “But he is a boy, and we don’t know what kind of person he might be. He could be good. We have no right to play with his life nor treat him the same as we might judge those he travelled with.”

  “Or, he might turn out worse than the others,” Fritz said.

  “Did Rupert strike you as the kind of person who could follow a boy?” Bill said.

  “I don’t know what I think anymore,” Fritz said.

  There was a pause.

  “Is that why you’re thinking about leaving?” Bill said.

  He decided to say ‘thinking about’ because he didn’t want it to be thought of a given that he would leave. There was always the chance he might change his mind and decide to stay. He hoped so, anyway.

  “I don’t know,” Fritz said, taking a seat, leaning forward, and resting his elbows on his knees. “Things just aren’t simple anymore.”

  “I’m not sure they were ever simple,” Bill said.

  “Less simple, then,” Fritz said. “I don’t know what kind of future I can look forward to on this island. There’s just us. And the only other people we’ve come in contact with so far have both wanted to kill us, or wanted to kill other people and make some kind of sacrifice. It doesn’t bode well for us here, does it?”

  “Perhaps not,” Bill said. “But we stand a greater chance of pulling through it if we stick together. I would never try to influence your decision. You know I’ve always respected you and your brothers’ decisions. But I would really like you to stay around. I could really do with your help. We all could.”

  “I know,” Fritz said. “But sometimes you have to do something for yourself and not others, right?”

  “Right,” Bill said, nodding.

  He sighed. His soft attempt at trying to coerce his son had failed. He would stay here to help the family overcome their latest enemy, but after that, he would leave.

  “How about we get back to getting out of here?” he said.

  Chapter Twelve

  THERE WAS nothing quite like the satisfying crunch of a skull as it succumbed to your fists and finally folded inwards, the rancid shards impaling the beaten brain inside.

  The creature had been under the Overlord In Black’s control, so there was nothing it could do to stop him from beating it, never mind understanding what was happening to it even as he did it. It had done nothing wrong, but that was partly the problem.

  None of the creatures had done anything useful in locating the family. They were still lost to him, out there somewhere, in the jungle, likely plotting his downfall, or else to escape. Either outcome was deeply unsatisfactory to him.

  The pulverized body, no longer able to sustain its own life, crumpled to the ground. It lay beside half a dozen others. The Overlord In Black’s hands were torn and bleeding. He didn’t care. He relished the feeling. Vigorous exercise always helped clear the mind.

  His undead army was scouring the island quadrant by quadrant but so far, they had discovered nothing but a few broken twigs, and those might have been put there on purpose as misdirection. He gritted his teeth. His creatures were too slow.

  He needed to cycle through his newly acquired creatures’ memories again and get at what they knew. They must know something about where the family was, a passing comment or toss of the head or unconscious tick.

  He sat down and began to focus. He searched with a fine toothcomb. The next time he opened his eyes, if he didn’t discover what he required, he would dispose of a another dozen creatures. It weakened him, losing this many pets, but he didn’t care. It did him far greater good to beat them than keeping their useless bodies alive.

  He sat down and entered a meditative state. He would identify where the family were, and he would fall upon them with an anger they had never experienced before.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BEAST WAS biting at the bit to get out of the cave and into the world, to stretch her wings. Jack knew how she felt. He wasn’t one for sitting around either. He didn’t know how Ernest could just sit there reading his boring books. There was nothing interesting in them. Jack had skimmed through them and found nothing but words. No pictures. No colors. Boring.

  The only excitement Jack experienced was when something rustled outside their cave entrance. Even then, it wasn’t really something exciting, just scary. It was the undead, getting closer and closer. Jack hated hiding.

  “Can you hear me?” Bill said, flashing a light in Jim’s eyes. “My name is Dr. Flower. You received a blow to the head and were knocked unconscious for several days. I need you to focus on getting better, to rest and relax. Understand me?”

  “Rupert…” Jim said. “Rupert…”

  Bill’s eyes widened and the others crowded round.

  “Rupert is gone,” Bill said. “Don’t worry about him now. Focus on getting better.”

  Jim shook his head, a movement so slow they almost didn’t register it.

  “Rupert…” Jim said. “Don’t trust… Rupert…”

  The family shared an expression that spoke volumes.

/>   “Don’t worry about that,” Liz said. “You need to rest. We can speak later. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Jim shook his head, as if in an attempt to push something, a big heavy thought, aside.

  “Guns,” Jim said under his breath. “Have… guns.”

  “We know,” Liz said. “Rupert had them. But as we said, he’s not a problem anymore.”

  “No,” Jim said. “Me.”

  “You didn’t come with any guns,” Liz said. “Or if you did, the others took them from you.”

  Jim shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “Guns. Already here. Guns.”

  “Guns already here?” Bill said. “Where?”

  “In the ground,” Jim said. “Buried.”

  “Buried where?” Bill said.

  He took the boy’s hand in his own.

  “Where are the guns buried, Jim?” Bill said. “Can you tell me? Where?”

  Jim opened his mouth to speak, and only croaked a vague noise. His mouth shut and his head fell to one side.

  “Where are the guns?” Bill said. “Hey! Wake up! Where are the guns?”

  “Bill,” Liz said, voice soft, but commanding. “Give it a rest.”

  Bill nodded.

  “You all heard it, right?” he said. “He said the word ‘guns’ and ‘buried’, right?”

  “I heard it,” Jack said.

  “Me too,” Ernest said.

  “Me three,” Fritz said.

  “Guns on the island?” Liz said. “What can it mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Bill said. “But whatever it is, it may be our only chance of escaping this place. But we’ll have to wait for him to open his eyes before we make any judgements-”

  Jim’s eyes cracked open again. He held up his hand and made circle motions in the air.

  “What’s he doing?” Liz said.

  “He’s drawing,” Ernest said.

  Fritz grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He put the pen between Jim’s thumb and index finger, and held the paper out for him. He drew with his eyes closed. He struggled to pull his eyes open, peered at his artwork, and then fell back to sleep again. His hand fell to the bed, the pen falling to the floor.