The Grave: A Zombie Novel (20 page)

Rasmus let out a yelp of pain as hi
s knee banged into a sharp rock. Then he let out a scream as his left ankle suddenly wedged between two underwater rocks and it snapped. He immediately knew his ankle was broken. With his left leg trapped and the current growing stronger, he was pulled under the water again. He opened his eyes and the water stung instantly. The cave was drenched in blackness and he could see nothing. He pulled at his leg, but it was stuck fast. The rushing water pulled him down and he sucked in a mouthful of air before the current dragged him under once more. His ankle was crushed and the more he pulled on it, the more painful it got. As his head bobbed above the surface, he spluttered and coughed. He took a mouthful of water and retched. His breathing got quicker and quicker as he realised he was not getting out of this.

“Help.
Help!” Rasmus called out, hoping someone might hear him. Tricia could go to hell. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He didn’t care if the Deathless heard him. He didn’t have the energy to keep going like this for long. The water was numbing his feet and hands already. The force of the underground river was overwhelming and he slipped beneath the surface. Taking in a huge gulp of air, he frantically began punching at the rocks that held his broken ankle trapped tight. The rocks could not be shifted though.

He began to panic as each time he
resurfaced, he struggled to breathe. Was the level of the river rising or was he imagining it? He felt like his whole body was on fire. He thrashed his arms around trying to find something to take hold of; a branch, the wall of the cave, anything to hold himself up – but there was nothing. “Help, help!” He called out over and over, pleading, hoping, and praying someone would hear him. “Don’t leave me!” Rasmus began sobbing, choking as the water washed over his head. His tears flowed out into the infected water surrounding him and he hated the world in that moment. He knew he had been left to die. He had been abandoned and in all likelihood was infected too.

Rasmus
managed to keep himself alive for almost half an hour before he finally succumbed to the water. The Deathless did not hear his pleas for help or anguished cries for clemency. They never did find him. Nobody heard him crying for his wife. His friends and colleagues were now safely at the bottom of the hill, well away from him and unable to hear his weeping and yelling.

Other than a
flash of memories as he died, he never saw his wife again. His prayers went unanswered as the rising tide of the river killed him. With all the rainwater flowing into the cave system, the level of the river was creeping ever upward. He was stuck in an underground cave system that went on for miles. Soon, the cave would be completely submerged.

Finally, Rasmus took one last breath and ducked beneath the surface. The first mouthful of water he took in burnt his throat and lungs. His body convulsed and his heart hammered away faster than ever in his life, trying to give him the last surge of adrenalin to escape. The second mouthful of water caused his body to begin shutting down and he drowned. His old lungs filled with water; his throat and mouth tried to suck in air, but it was impossible. The dark cave kept his body there, never to be buried, forever to be entombed in the icy cavern.
His body would reanimate soon, but it was a mere shell; just the physical reminder of the man he had once been. Rasmus was dead.

TEN

Tug had found a small cottage over the road from where the golf buggy had lost power and he
just as quickly found it was deserted. It was well hidden from the road with its green painted plasterboard well camouflaged by the massive Rimu trees and ferns surrounding it. Hoheria plants and tangled vines covered the cottage’s gateway and Tug had easily broken inside. The lock on the front door had given way easily as the wooden frame had rotted over the years it had stood there. The house was small and only had one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and sitting room. He had fetched the others over and they had sunken into a grieving stupor once inside. Rain began to lash at the dirty windows and Tug busied himself checking their packs. He took the one off his back and emptied the one Suzy had been carrying. He handed around some water and waited for the others to rest. He was beginning to get a headache, so he took out his half of uneaten power bar. He took one bite and then stopped.

“Here,” he said offering it to Suzy. “You should eat something.”

She took it from him and nibbled on it slowly. The bar was flavourless and gritty, but it helped to settle her stomach. Since they had left the farmhouse earlier, it had not stopped churning.

Will mouthed a thank you to him as Tug walked away.
Will looked at his watch, but it was still five thirty one. He had forgotten it had stopped when the plane had crashed. He looked over at Tug who was repacking their gear. Will wondered how he could do it. How could he just put everything to one side and carry on like that? Will gave Suzy a squeeze and then went over to see Kelly and Claire.

“How
are you holding up?” he asked them both.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” said Kelly. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “This was going to be his last big trip you know.
One last hurrah before his retirement.” Her voice wavered and she stopped to clear her throat. “Do you think he might make it?”

Will shook his head. “No
. The Deathless were everywhere. It’s really just luck I got Tricia out. I heard her calling for help, but I didn’t hear from Rasmus. I called out for him, but I think he was too far in to hear me.” He looked at Claire. She was pale and sniffing. Her nose was red and the skin around her nostrils and eyes seemed flaky. “How are you, Claire?” He wanted to tell her she looked terrible, but caught himself before he did.

She shrugged. “I feel like I’m coming down with the flu. I’m all bunged up and m
y head feels like it’s full of bricks. My chest is hot and it’s hard to catch my breath sometimes.”

“It’s probably the damp,” said Tug. He came over and put a dry blanket around her shoulders. “The rain, the cold
, and the lack of a decent meal...it’s not surprising really. Here, make sure you drink as much water as you can.” He offered her some of the bottled rainwater he had collected from the farmhouse and she gratefully drank it down. “We’re running low on water and it’s pissing down outside so I’m going out to see if I can collect some more. Guess I was right about that storm coming in.” Tug went outside and shut the door behind him.

Claire sneezed and rubbed her head. “I feel like death.”

“We should pray together.” Tricia sat upright. She had never forced her beliefs onto anyone her whole life, but she couldn’t sit idly by while her friends died. “It’ll help, truly it will. I can lead us if you like. I think now is a good time. Merciful Lord, we ask that you...”

“
Whoa, hold on there, Tricia. I’m not sure now is the time. You can pray to an imaginary deity if you like, but count me out.” Mark folded his arms. He had been taught plenty about religion and seen a lot of missionary work in Africa. But he was not a believer, and had no intention of joining a prayer group now.

“He’s
right, Tricia,” said Kelly wearily. “I don’t think we’re all comfortable with this. No one is stopping you doing what you want, but we need some downtime right now. Rasmus is gone. I just want a few minutes of quiet. Please.”

Tricia indignantly raised her eyebrows. “
Well, I didn’t mean any offence. Fine. I just thought it might help.” Her ample frame leant back and the springs in the sofa creaked.

“How can you believe in something so intangible anyway?” Mark asked. “As a
scientist, I thought you only dealt with facts and figures. How can you believe in God? How can you reconcile those two aspects of your life?”

“I don’
t have to, Mark, you do.” Tricia sighed. She had been questioned about the very same thing by her mother a few times. “I can believe in whatever I like because I have faith. My work doesn’t rule my life. I find the work we do at the museum fascinating and I’m very good at it. But you need some sort of spiritual guidance in your life. You can’t ignore that side of yourself or you’re just another lost soul. You should explore some of Jesus’ teachings, Mark, and open yourself up. You never know what you might realise and learn. His Kingdom is always ready for you.”

“And if I don’t
, I’m going to hell?” Mark laughed. “Oh come on, Tricia...”

“Enough!” shouted Kelly. “Enough.
All right? Save your theological discussions for another time. Just everyone shut up for five fucking minutes and let me think, would you?”

The room descended quickly into an uncomfortable silence. Mark wanted to apologise. He hadn’t meant to goad Tricia like that. He thought it best if he kept quiet though. Kelly’s tone was clear and he didn’t want to upset her.

They waited, deep in their own thoughts and prayers, whether to a real God or not, listening to the rain lashing the outside of the cottage. Nobody even gave a thought to helping Tug. It was as if he was their guide, still an outsider, and whilst they accepted his help, they had not fully accepted him into their group yet.

Suzy broke the silence a few minutes after Kelly’s outburst.
She abruptly stood up and pointed up into a far corner of the room. “Holy cow, what is
that
?”

All eyes turned to the dark corner of the room and Claire let out a small cry as she tucked herself back into the sofa. A table nestled in the corner of the room adorned with pottery figurines. Above it on the wall was a huge insect. It was at least a foot in length and its spindly brown legs were slowly inching it up the damp wallpaper. It crawled slowly into the dark corner of the room, its mandibles twitching, looking for food. It was so big they could see the thing
’s black eyes, and its hideous body was thick and rippled. It paused in its trek to the corner as if to let everyone admire it.

“I think it’s a
Weta,” said Kelly getting up for a closer look. “I’ve never seen one so big though.”

“It’s disgusting.” Suzy realised she was still pointing at it and quickly withdrew her arm, as if the creature might suddenly take flight and jump on her.

“It’s amazing,” said Will approaching it.

“You’re not going to...oh no.
” Suzy recoiled as Will knelt on the trestle table and reached up, scooping the giant Weta into his hands carefully. The spiny hind legs dug into his wrists but he didn’t care. Suzy could see the light in his eyes as he handled the insect and remembered again why Kelly had employed him. As his blue eyes sparkled, she also remembered why she had kissed him.

“Amazing,” said Will again examining the insect. He turned it over and looked up and down. “It’s pregnant too.”

Its mandibles began to bite into his skin and he carefully placed it back on the table. It scurried into the crevice of the wall and down to the floor where it could hide in the shadows.

Kelly smiled ruefully at Will. “I guess she’s just looking to get home.”

“Aren’t we all,” said Mark putting his camera away. The photos of Will with the Weta would make good contrast to some of the more destructive or negative photos he had taken. It was evidence of life on this deadly island.

Just then, Tug came crashing back into the house, followed by buckets of rain and wind. He shook off his coat and placed a bucket of clear water in the middle of the room. “Found this outside. It’s clean. We can all fill our bottles with the rainwater.”

With the insect forgotten, one by one they did so, and Kelly helped Claire with hers. She unwrapped the bandage around Claire’s wrist and Kelly wrapped it back up tightly. The skin was bruised and yellow. Claire kept wiping her nose on her jacket, sniffing and wheezing.

“Here, take these,” said Kelly handing her some
paracetamol. The packet was empty now, but it looked like Claire needed them more than most. Once Claire had swallowed them, Kelly went on over to Tricia. Kelly sat down beside her and asked how she was feeling.

“
Oh, Kelly, I don’t know anymore. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know what to do. They were everywhere. I didn’t ask Rasmus to come with me, I just...” Tricia welled up. “I know it’s my fault he’s gone. What was I thinking…” She trailed off, unable to talk. Salty tears trickled down her face and stung her wounds.

“What’s done is done,” was all Kelly could say. She knew she should put an arm around her. She knew what she was supposed to do, how she should be comforting Tricia and reassuring her, telling her it wasn’t her fault. But actually,
she felt like it was kind of Tricia’s fault. If she hadn’t run off like that then maybe Rasmus would still be here. He would be cajoling them into getting along, helping Claire and talking about the landscape and the interesting wildlife. He would have loved to see that Weta. Kelly knew he was dead. Why should Tricia be here and not him? Kelly felt sorrow that Rasmus wasn’t around anymore, but also anger. She was annoyed with Tricia. What did she expect, sympathy? Kelly sighed and stood up. “All you can do now, Tricia, is pray for His help and forgiveness.” Kelly didn’t elaborate on what she meant, but the implication was clear and Tricia didn’t respond.

Tug shook off his wet coat. He had heard Kelly and Tricia and
he knew the guilt Tricia must be feeling. It wasn’t her fault, it was just this place. What was happening to them was out of anyone’s control now. He sipped some of the cold, fresh water as the others did the same.