Science Fiction Smackdown II Entry (Zombie-Fun-Excitement-Spectacular!!!!)

Chapter 11: Island

The water was cold and ankle-deep as David waded in to the shore, Amy beside him. Each of them had one hand on the gunwales of a small aluminum boat. Behind him, David could hear Jenna talking softly to little Oliver, whom she held in her arms. There was a wharf on the island, a towering concrete structure that extended out into the sea. The small group had avoided the wharf, seeing no need to climb ladders when there were better options available. Southwest of the wharf was a smaller pier, headed by a huge castellated gate, and in the lee of the pier a sandy beach had formed. The loud, rusting noise of the metal boat on the damp beach was surprisingly satisfying, and pleased with their progress, David let go.

“Here, then, Amy, I think we're above the tide. Put it down,” he instructed the teenager.

The girl dropped her gunwale with a resounding 'thump'. David smiled.

The castellated gateway towered over the small beach. It was huge, a smooth, beige structure with white windows flanking an open gothic arch that led within. The gate looked new, but the wall it breached did not. The wall was made of red brick, with a much-repaired decorative white stripe along its top third. Periodically, narrow, cross-shaped openings formed oddly whimsical windows. Beyond the wall and a screen of trees the travellers could see a castle, a square structure of the same red brick as the defensive wall.

“So, this is Brownsea Island?” David turned to speak to Jenna as she placed Oliver down neatly on the sand. The small boy looked around disapprovingly.

Jenna nodded, “Yes. Does it live up to your expectations?”

David shrugged. “I don't know yet.”

“The castle looks pretty,” Amy said, quietly.

Jenna smiled at her. “It does, doesn't it? Shall I show you around?”

Amy returned the smile, delighted. “Please, would you? Can we pretend we're proper visitors?”

Jenna slung an arm around Amy's shoulder. “Of course we can.”

David looked at the two females doubtfully. “Don't you think we ought to secure the perimeter first?”

Jenna shrugged. “It's an island. So long as we stick together, and make sure there's nobody between us and the boat, we should be okay. The castle was some kind of private hotel, but I don't think anybody actually lived here. The whole island is owned by the National Trust – or was, at least. I can't imagine that there could be more than a handful of zombies.”

“I suppose so,” David said. He sounded doubtful, but he relented. “Fine, go.”

Giggling, Amy took Jenna's hand, and dragged her off through the gate.

David found himself alone with Oliver. Looking over at the little boy, he asked, “Well. I suppose you want to see the castle, too?”

The small boy regarded David with dark, solemn eyes. After a moment of thought, he said, “No.”

“Good. Then you can help me figure out what else this island is good for.”

Oliver shrugged, then held out a small, sticky hand. David took it in his own.

Instead of following Amy and Jenna through the gothic archway, David led Oliver southwest, down the beach. Here the brick wall was low, a retaining wall more than a barrier. One hand under each of Oliver's arms, David swung the little boy up, then, in one unnaturally high step, climbed onto the wall himself. They stood on a long slope, a grassy lawn outside the castle. The grass was long and unkempt, and David made sure they skirted the building at a distance. Trees dotted the lawn, and David was careful to keep, where possible, to shrubs and shadows. Jenna might be right about there being no zombies here, or she might not; David figured it did no harm to be careful.

In the middle of a copse of trees, Oliver complained about being tired, so David boosted the small child up to sit on his shoulders. David thought that there was something reassuring about having the little boy's hands nestled among his hair. David need the reassurance, too, as he stumbled out of the woods and into a cluster of low, red brick buildings. They looked like storage sheds, or stables, grey-shingled roofs already becoming mossy under the branches of overhanging trees. Tentatively, David forced open a wooden door, painted in a blue so dark it was very nearly black. The air inside was stale, and David had begun to swing the door shut when he heard it. A voice, from somewhere within the small complex.

In his shock, David let go of the door. He barely managed to wedge his foot in the way before the door could slam noisily shut. Even zombies could here, David knew. He held his breath, straining for an small sound, to determine if the voice spoke in words, or if it was only mindless muttering. In the silence, Oliver kicked David.

Then, Oliver demanded, “Let me down!”

Dread settled over David as he listened to Oliver's voice echo down the dark corridor beyond the door. He tried to develop an escape plan – swing Oliver down into his arms, that was the way, it would be easier to run like that than with the child on his shoulders – but he felt froze, rooted in place.

And then, the voice spoke again “Oliver? Is that you?”

Oliver practically rocketed off of David's shoulders. He slid down David's back, his small shoes feeling like two twin forcefields, little gravitational nexuses where all the boy's weight was focused.

“Jenna!” the boy yelled, his mouth unfortunately level with David's ear.

The woman appeared the doorway. Oliver threw his arms around her waist as Amy appeared a step behind.

"Well,” Jenna said calmly, “You came to the visitor centre after all, I see.”

“I would have thought that the visitor centre would be over by the dock,” David sounded confused.

“No, no, just the gift shop and the cafe,” Jenna replied.

“And the ticket selling,” Amy added.

"No zombies?” David asked cautiously.

“Nobody at all!” Amy protested, “I think there hasn't been anyone here since – well, you know.”

“I agree with Amy,” Jenna said, “This place was closed up tight, with no evidence that it had been opened up since last autumn. Same with the ticket hall.”

“I'm glad,” David said, breathing more easily now. “I was hoping the island would be safe.”

“I think it is,” Jenna smiled. “So you may as well join Amy and I on the tour.”

To his own surprise, David found himself agreeing. “Well, okay then. Lead on.”

Jenna nodded. “You wanted to see the castle, right, Amy?”

The girl looked delighted by the idea. “Oh, yes!”

“Then follow me, please.”

Jenna led them through the dark dusty building, and out another set of doors at the far end. Once outside, she made an abrupt right turn, following a gravel path. At a corner marked by a spreading plane tree, they turned right again. The last of the buildings fell away on their right, and something odd caught David's breath, stealing it from him in an instant.

The grassy sward, dotted occasionally with huge ancient locusts and young horse chestnuts, was interrupted by a neat rectangle of low, tumbling plants, dark green leaves sheltering small, white flowers. Every so often, a flash of red could be seen among the leaves.

Oliver knew what the red fruits were at once. “Strawberries!” he shouted.

He broke free of the group to throw himself at the berries. They were huge, juicy things, though most were still green. Oliver made a face.

“Strawberries grow wild, right?” Amy asked, nervously.

“Not huge ones like that,” Jenna said.

“And not in a neat rectangular patch, either,” David added.

Note:  Instructions were: the island appears to be uninhabited, though . . . a near-mature crop [is] planted here!