The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 3) (3 page)

Four

Bill, Fritz and Ernest waded through the dark narrow corridor. Rust ran along the inside of the walls like motorways on a roadmap. The darkness was punctured by sunlight that filtered in through portholes along the wall. On the left were cabin doors, some shut tight, others wide open. The water swallowing their feet became shallow. There was a blood splatter on the wall, fragments of bone jutting from clotted blood. At the end of the corridor was a thick metal door that stood open. Bill swept his torch over the space inside. There were blank computer terminals and large metal containers.

Bill unshouldered his pack and took out a foot long grey tube and put it amongst the machinery. He attached an egg timer to it. They moved to the far end of the room. Bill deposited another grey tube. They came out of the engine room and moved back down the corridor. Bill pushed open the door to the first cabin. It had two sets of bunk beds, one on either side. The bedside tables had been knocked over and the blankets lay on the floor.

“Be quick,” Bill said. “We’ve got thirty minutes to get clear of the boat.”

Ernest reached for the magazines on the bed covers and tucked them into his backpack. In the tiny bathroom Fritz found a few packs of hair gel and deodorant. They pushed open the doors to the next room. It was a cleaning cupboard. Bill grabbed the bleach, polish and bristle brushes. The next room was large and had a single bed. There was a desk in the corner. Above it was a shelf with hard and paperback books.

“Jackpot,” Ernest said, heading over and stuffing his bag.

“Don’t you mean Ernestpot?” Fritz said.

Bill opened a cupboard and found a row of men’s jackets. He picked the best one and put it on. There were a series of packages on the floor of the wardrobe tied with cute pink bows. Bill tore them open. Inside he found a pink dress and cute sailor’s outfit that looked like it was in Francis’s size.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes left,” Bill said.

They hustled down the corridor, their feet and shins wet. Their movements disturbed the water, causing a door to drift open. There was a rattling sound like a nail file rubbed against iron grating. Bill and the boys stiffened, gripping their weapons in tight fists. Bill peered into the room.

A man lay on the floor, pinned down by a bed’s frame. His dead white eyes stared up at them. The man’s greasy hair was brushed back from his head, and blue veins like ripe cheese stood out on his forehead. His blood-red lips opened and let out a deep guttural groan that came from the depths of his soul. The sound was slow and long. It reverberated down the metal corridors. The Lurcher’s call was answered by a dozen others, and then two dozen, and then innumerable. Some were close, others distant, but they all filled the Robinsons with terror. Bill took out another grey tube and tossed it onto the bed. Bill swung his machete and buried it in the man’s head. A thin spurt of blood squirted over Bill’s trouser leg. He removed his machete and they rushed down the corridor.

“Let’s get out of here!” Bill said.

Bill and the boys waded through the corridor, the low death rattle of Lurchers near and far echoing up and down the cruise liner’s innards. They passed a cabin, and the sound of a death groan grew in volume. None of them turned to look back. They got to the cargo hold. Fritz and Ernest took position beside the door. Bill reached into his pack again and took out another grey tube and attached a timer. He set it for five minutes. Bill slid the grey tube through a link in a chain that hung from the ceiling. They ran out of the cruise liner, where Jack stood waiting for them.

“Everything go all right?” Jack said.

“We’ll see in a few minutes,” Bill said.

“Did you find anything?”

As if in response, groans from hundreds of throats issued up from the ship. Jack’s face turned pale. Fritz and Ernest each grabbed a cart handle and pushed it along the beach back toward the bridge.

“It’s funny,” Fritz said. “Despite the extra weight of the crates, the cart somehow feels lighter.”

“Miraculous,” Ernest said.

High up on the cruise liner, the silhouettes of dozens of figures pressed against the railing, arms outstretched and reaching for the departing flesh of the living.

Five

Bill and the boys put fifty feet between themselves and the cruise liner. Figures emerged from the hole, turning their heads, looking around, and then ambled toward the Robinsons.

“We need to hold them here,” Bill said. “We have to stop them from entering the jungle, or we’ll never live in peace.”

The Lurchers’ movements were hesitant and juddering, without a hint of grace. Many had broken or missing limbs, adding to their grungy gait, but moved surprisingly fast. Most of them wore summer holiday wear, the rest smart crimson uniforms, adding a comical edge to the scene. There was a long chain of them, perhaps fifteen in total, and more pouring out of the hole in the ship’s hull.

“Remember your training,” Bill said. “Make calm, smooth motions. Nothing flashy. Stay relaxed. Never panic. Jack, stay behind me at all times, all right?”

Jack nodded, his eyes wide, hands gripping the baton tight. The first Lurcher approached. It was a large man wearing a bright Bermuda shirt. Bill brought his machete down across his neck. He cut halfway through the flesh, the knife’s edge caught on the undead’s larynx. Another two hacks, and the head was severed. The body slumped to the ground. The thick congealed blood lay on top of the sand, and wasn’t absorbed by it. Fritz met a female Lurcher. She wore large sunglasses. He brought the baseball bat around. It connected with the woman’s temple, the bat buried in her skull. She looked at him with an element of confusion. Fritz pulled the bat free and hit her again. This time she went down. The third Lurcher, wearing a huge pair of baggy shorts, approached Ernest. Bill’s heart was in his throat. Only once the Lurcher was down, his head caved in, did Bill breathe again. The Lurchers were disembarking from the ship faster now, forming tight bunches of twos and threes.

“When will they go off?” Fritz said. “Do you think there’s a problem with them?”

“I don’t know,” Bill said. “They should go off any min-”

KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!

The two explosions happened in quick succession. The boat shuddered. A large hole was rent from the stern. The Lurchers pivoted on the spot to look back at the noise’s origin. Bill, Fritz and Ernest leapt forward and beat at the Lurchers. They fell to the sand. Overcoming their stupor, the remaining Lurchers turned and stumbled toward Bill and his sons.

“Form up!” Bill said.

They formed a line, and as the Lurchers approached, the Robinsons pulled back their weapons. The Lurchers raised their arms toward Ernest and Fritz, but the Robinsons fell on them. A large male Lurcher with exposed chest, and what looked like female breasts, fell to the ground at Fritz’s feet. The Lurcher opened his mouth to bite, but Ernest was there, and buried his golf club in its head. Fritz nodded his thanks.

“Bloody ankle biters,” Fritz said.

KA-BOOM!

The cruise liner leaned over dangerously to one side. The Lurchers pressed up against the deck’s railing spilled over the side. Some landed on their heads, which exploded like watermelons. Others fell in the water, feet unable to find the bottom, and were swept up with the tide and taken out to sea. But most landed in the shallows, got to their feet and limped onto the beach. The cruise ship was on fire amidships, the flames licking the porthole windows. The stern dipped lower into the sea, lifting the bow up out of the water and into the air.

“Where’s the last explosion?” Ernest said. “Shouldn’t there be one more?”

“Something must have happened to it,” Bill said.

“The ship’s not going to sink without it.”

“Might not sink with it either. It’s a big boat.”

“And the Lurchers will keep coming!”

Bill looked along the beach to find Lurchers heading toward the jungle.

“Hey!” Bill shouted at the Lurchers and waved his arms. “Hey!”

He turned to his boys.

“We can’t let them get to the jungle!” Bill said. “We’ll forever be hunting them down!”

“Hey!” Fritz said toward the wayward Lurchers. “Hey! Hey! Over here! This way!”

A Lurcher before him opened her mouth wide and growled. Fritz knocked the Lurcher’s extended arms aside, and then followed with a swift swing of his baseball bat at her head.

“They’re not coming toward us!” Ernest said.

“I’ll go get their attention,” Fritz said.

“No,” Bill said. “We need you here. Both of you. Otherwise we’ll get overwhelmed.”

“I’ll go,” Jack said.

Bill turned to look at him. He looked so small.

“No,” Bill said.

“Who’s better than me at making noise?” Jack said.

“He’s got a point there,” Ernest said, tripping a Lurcher over and bringing his golf club down on the back of its head.

Bill was torn. The Lurchers were closing on the jungle.

“We need him to do it, Dad,” Fritz said. “If he doesn’t, we might as well give up now.”

“Okay,” Bill said. “Okay. But don’t get too close.”

“I won’t,” Jack said.

He took off at a run, Nip curled about his shoulders. A Lurcher took a swipe at him as he passed.

“Stay away from my son!” Bill said, swinging the machete down and removing the Lurcher’s head.

Bill’s heart was in his mouth as Jack approached the wayward Lurchers.

“Hey!” Jack said. “Hey! Uglies!”

The Lurchers turned to look at him. Jack paused and took a step back. Their faces were torn and shredded with blood seeping from cuts and gashes. They groaned at him with their death rattle. Something green grew across their faces.

“Did becoming a Lurcher make you that ugly?” Jack said. “Or were you born that way?”

Nip hopped down from Jack’s shoulders and hissed at the Lurchers. The Lurchers stumbled toward them. Jack backed away. The Lurchers ambled after him.

“Come on, Nip,” Jack said.

Nip climbed up Jack’s leg and perched on his shoulder. A few Lurchers at the back lost interest and began shuffling toward the jungle again. Jack rushed around the group, his back to the jungle.

“Hey! Hey!” he said. “Follow the delicious human! Come on!”

They turned to follow Jack, and step by step he led them back down the beach.

“We’ve got company!” Jack said as he brought the Lurchers over to his father and brothers.

“Fritz, Ernest, you take care of them,” Bill said. “I’ll hold back this lot.”

Fritz and Ernest turned and struck at the Lurchers. Jack leapt forward and aimed a blow at their heads as often as he dared. The last Lurcher from Jack’s group fell, and Fritz and Ernest turned to their father, who was being set upon by Lurchers on every side. His movements were slow and weak. Fritz and Ernest rushed to his aid.

KA-BOOM!

The explosion tore the front of the ship clean off, like a champagne cork bursting from a bottle. The pointed end hung limp to one side by a thin strip of rusted metal. It dangled there a moment, and then snapped off, falling to the sea below, crushing the Lurchers struggling in the shallow sea.

“Better late than never,” Ernest said.

“All we have to do now is kill the Lurchers on the beach,” Bill said.

“Easier said than done,” Fritz said. “There’s an awful lot left.”

“And more Lurchers are heading for the jungle!” Jack said. “I’ll go round them up!”

“Yes,” Bill said. “And be careful. If we can all push through today, we can sit back and relax for the rest of our lives.”

Bill turned. Jack hadn’t moved. He stood staring at the jungle. When Bill looked up to see what Jack was watching, the blood froze in his veins.

“We have to cross the bridge,” Bill said, voice distant and cold.

“What?” Fritz said. “Why? We can do this.”

“No,” Bill said. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re already in the jungle.”

Fritz and Ernest turned to see an army of Lurchers emerging from the dense jungle foliage.

Six

“Where did they come from?” Fritz said.

He was holding Jack’s hand and pulling him along as they ran. Despite their difference in size, Jack wasn’t much slower than Fritz. Ernest, on the other hand, struggled to keep up.

“The cruise liner,” Ernest said. “They must have come out before we got here, stumbled into the jungle and been wandering around in there ever since. Until the explosions drew them.”

“Great,” Fritz said. “So we came here for nothing.”

“No, not for nothing,” Bill said. “At least now we know what we’re up against.”

“I think I’d prefer not to know,” Fritz grumbled.

Fritz, Ernest and Jack ran across Family Bridge. Bill got halfway across and stopped. He took out the final grey tube from his bag, lit it, and placed it in the hollow of a bamboo cane. The white smoke issued out through the gap in the top like a chimney. The Lurchers groaned and staggered onto the bridge, four men thick and two dozen deep.

“Dad!” Jack said. “Come on!”

Bill turned and ran.

“I wish we hadn’t made the bridge quite so strong now,” Ernest said. “We should have used paper.”

The Lurchers staggered across the bridge. One Lurcher, intrigued by the smoke and hissing noise, reached into the gap in the bamboo and extracted the grey tube. He inspected it, and sniffed at it with his ruined nose. His head jolted back with disgust, lips curling at the smell. He brought his arm back to toss it. Jack saw him and ran toward the bridge, waving his arms.

“No!” Jack shouted. “Don’t throw it!”

The Lurcher with the grey tube turned to look at Jack.

“Jack!” Bill said, stepping forward. “Get away from the bridge now! Get away from the-!”

KA-BOOM!

A thick wall of air rushed toward them, an explosion of red body parts and shards of yellow bamboo flew into the air. The shockwave knocked them all to the ground.