The Grave: A Zombie Novel (6 page)

Kelly let the magazine fall to her lap and closed her eyes as a shiver ran over her.
She couldn’t read anymore. Her father had been a brilliant scholar and his photo still hung in the Great Hall at the museum, alongside all the other directors. Hers would be up there one day too. How had he coped? With what the world must have gone through, he had still gone ahead and raised a family. Kelly had not married, not found anyone special, or had a serious relationship. She had just read an article about how the world almost ended, and all she could think about was her father. Was she so selfish, so intemperate and self-absorbed? Was that why she was still alone?

Somebody
brushed past Kelly on their way to the bathroom and the jolt roused Kelly. She slid the magazine into the pocket in front of her and dimmed the light. She needed to sleep. It had been a busy few months and it had all built to a head last night. She needed rest for the expedition. When they arrived, they would be straight into work and she had to look after everyone. It was going to be a hectic few weeks.

She closed her eyes and remembered the gala last night.
The First Lady, Sophie, had proven to be a very warm person and enjoyable company. Her minders had kept in the background apart from the brief altercation with Will and Suzy. Kelly smiled. She had noticed they had both taken off before the end of the evening and wondered if they had spent much time last night resting for the trip or divulging in other extra-curricular activities that were not on the museum’s regular agenda. She forced her mind back to what lay ahead.

For
Kelly, the chance of first hand research excited her. If she spent more than six months in her office back in New York, it was considered a long stay. She organised special field expeditions and usually managed to get herself a place on them too. The museum hadn’t led a trip to the Antarctic for five years, so it was only natural that she should lead it. At thirty five years of age, she had dedicated her life to the museum and enjoyed the trips away from New York. She had no partner and no long-term boyfriend. Even the potted plants in her lounge were plastic so she could take off at a moment’s notice and not worry about leaving her Upper East Side apartment.

The plane continued west and everyone on
board relaxed and slept peacefully. The sun was chasing them and the flight was smooth and stress-free as the jumbo flew above the flat, white clouds. Josef Jahn and Wilfred Kraven were on route to LAX to join their colleagues and friends. They had worked together previously and knew each other well. Both were looking forward to working with Rasmus again too. Over the last thirty or so years, they had shared as much beer together as they had research. Though Josef and Wilfred had both missed out on the fundraiser, they knew they would be well represented. The First Lady had given Kelly assurances that the museum would be well looked after and a sizeable donation was on its way.

Kelly found her inquisitive nature getting the best of
her, so she slid the journal out of the seatback pocket. She just wanted to read some more about The Grave. Sleep could come later.

* * *

Sophie
Agnew had spent the night at the Hilton after the fundraiser and then travelled back to Washington the next day with her security detail. Back at the White House later in the day, she managed to find her husband in between meetings.

“How was it?”
asked Richard Agnew, greeting his wife in their private chambers.

“
Well, they were hoping the President of the United States would show up, but I guess you were busy, hmm?” Sophie embraced her husband and ran her hands through his dark hair. “What was so busy that Richard Agnew couldn’t spend the evening with his wife?”

“You know how it is, Sophie
. I said I probably wouldn’t make it. How did you get on? Did White look after you?” Agnew squeezed the bridge of his nose together with his forefingers; trying to alleviate some of the pressure, he could feel building.

“It was a great evening, shame you missed out.
Maybe next year? Kelly is really taking the place in the right direction.”

Agnew frowned.

“Kelly Munroe, you remember her? From the museum? You – we – are sending her a big cheque tomorrow,” said Sophie.

“Oh sure, fine.
And White?”

“Why? I know he’s your favourite, but he’s been looking after me for what – six, seven months? He could do with loosening up a bit, but he’s no trouble. I can handle him.”

Agnew sat down in an armchair and rifled through some papers. “What with the G25 coming up and this damn conflict in the Yemen escalating, I barely had time to sneeze last night. I spent an hour on the phone with Senator Collins. Jeez, what an old woman. He needs putting right.”

“I’m sure you can
take care of him,” said Sophie as she changed. She had a couple of hours before her next engagement and wanted to freshen up. She had stripped down to her underwear and paused. “What else is it?” She noticed her husband was flicking through the papers in his hands, but not really looking at them, or her. “Another of your migraines?”

“Hmm?
Oh, sorry, it’s just we’ve got the ten year anniversary coming up and Collins was banging on about what we’re going to do: memorial services, ceremonies, media events, blah, blah, blah. As if I don’t have enough to do without that old gasbag in my ear every five minutes.”

“Darling, you need to relax,” said Sophie. She checked
to be sure that the bedroom door was locked and then walked over to her husband.

Agnew heard the door click and looked up. Sophie had slipped off her bra and had her thumbs tucked into her panties. She was still
svelte and being on her feet all day helped maintain her healthy figure. She was looking at him with those come-and-get-me eyes she usually reserved for special occasions.

“It’s been a while, Richard. I’ve got a bit of spare time before I have to go out again. You don’t have to rush off do you?”

He looked at his wife approaching him and then gathered up the papers. He looked at his watch and stood up. “Actually, I’ve got to go meet Verity. She’s giving us an update in the Oval office in a few minutes. We need to see what those Arabs have done now. I tell you, trying to keep on top of them is...”

“
Shhh,” said Sophie, putting a finger to her husband’s lips. “You should just get on top of me,” she whispered. Sophie traced her fingers across his lips and chin, and then reached up to kiss him. Her tongue sought to open his mouth, but he pushed her away.

“No, I’m busy Sophie, this isn’t the time.” Agnew marched over to the door and unlocked it.

“Richard, darling,” said Sophie as she went over to her husband. She nuzzled against his neck, her cold nose making his warm neck tingle. She wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed her breasts up close to him. “I can help with your headaches, you know? A little stress relief...”

“No.” Agnew
pushed her and Sophie stumbled backward, falling onto the bed. He pointed his finger at her as she lay there, confusion drawn across her face, anger etched across his.

Sophie drew the covers around her naked body. “Richard, I love you, how can...”

“Fuck you, Sophie,” said Agnew angrily. “You think this is easy? You think it’s all fancy dinners and pretty dresses, parties and cocktails? You have no idea what I’m dealing with. Get dressed and start acting your age. You’re not sixteen anymore. I’ll see you later.”

Agnew left Sophie
with tears forming in her eyes on the bed and slammed the door behind him as he left. He stormed down the corridor, ignoring the men stationed outside his private room, and went directly to the Oval office. White was standing guard outside it and Agnew gave him a cursory nod as he went in. The room was quiet and empty. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark and soothing. A table lamp illuminated the room gently, enabling him to see what he needed to without having to look too hard. He needed a break.

Agnew threw the papers he was carrying onto a chair and sat down
in front of his huge mahogany desk. Aside from the lamp and an intercom, the desk was clear and he ran his fingers along the cool surface. He let out a sigh and pinched the frame of his nose. Ten years ago, this had all been a lot easier. With the anniversary coming up, it was going to open up a lot of fresh wounds and raise more questions. The liberals would probably want another damn inquiry, just as they did every year. The survivors would want more explanations and he could expect more recriminations from the media. He had to rule the country now with an iron fist, not a velvet glove. It was being soft that had led to these types of problems in the first place. He did not intend to give up power now he was here, but that did not make it any easier. Sophie was just another headache he had to endure. His advisors constantly reminded him that the people would never vote for a single man. The President had to be a family man, honest, truthful, kind and caring. He would smooth things over with her later, but right now, he needed to forget everything and relax. A migraine was definitely threatening to erupt and he needed something to take his mind of the job, just for a little while.

Agnew pressed the intercom button.
“White? Send in Verity Dawson and make sure we’re not disturbed for the next hour.
By anyone
. I mean it. Unless an alien lands on the White House lawn, it is imperative we are not interrupted. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” was the quiet reply. The intercom went silent and Agnew could feel himself
loosening up already. He sat in his chair, waiting patiently. He made a mental note to speak to White about Senator Collins later. The man was making too many noises, causing too much kerfuffle about the upcoming anniversary. He had forgotten whose side he was on. A sharp reminder was in order. White could see to it. Agnew knew he could rely on him.

Three short knocks on the door broke his train of thought and the door opened. Verity Dawson, twenty
five years old, a graduate of Stanford and now Senior Publicity advisor to the President, entered the room. She shut the door behind her and turned the lock.

“I don’t believe our meeting is for another hour
Mr President.” Verity walked slowly into the centre of the room. She was not fazed by the low level light or lack of people in the room. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Agnew smiled. Verity was wearing a smart black suit and white blouse. She had her
blonde hair bunched up as usual, tied at the back. Her natural brunette roots were just starting to show through. There was something about blondes that he just couldn’t resist. Agnew pulled at his tie. “Take your clothes off. Now.”

Verity stood in the centre of the room and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She cast off her jacket and shirt, exposing her firm breasts, cupped in a pure white bra. Then she undid her skirt and let it fall to the floor where she stood. All the time
she was undressing, she stared at him, not speaking or making any sound.

Agnew had removed his tie and
he was in the process of taking his shirt off. He came from around the desk and walked up to her.

Verity licked her lips and ran her hands down his chest. She smiled wickedly and in the dimness of the
room, she caught the glint in Agnew’s eyes. “Just don’t leave any marks this time,” she said.

THREE

The small Dornier 228 drifted on the air current, jolted sharply in an air pocket, and then settled down to continue toward its destination. Its occupants settled down in their seats unaware of the danger thirty two thousand feet below them. They were cruising in a small but comfortable propeller plane, which had been chartered, organised and paid for many months ago by the American Museum of Natural History. The twelve men and women on board, excluding the two pilots, all worked for the museum in some capacity and had been picked up from American Samoa earlier in the day. They were on route to Scott Base, station FY3902-XX1 in the Antarctic, where they intended to spend the next three weeks observing and exploring the rapidly declining ice shelf. There were reports of new growths on the shelf and a host of interesting new specimens had been excavated already. They were all excited to be in on the possible new discoveries.

Fo
r Tricia Willis, it was her first field trip in nearly six years. She was fifteen years Kelly’s senior, but worked under her at the museum. Unlike Kelly, she disliked field trips and she had managed to avoid them for the last four years. New York was home and her last trip was only to the Rockies, so she didn’t even class it as a real trip, if it wasn’t a different time-zone, it didn’t count. Her office was next to Kelly’s in the basement and she adored working there. She had swept through Philadelphia State and spent a year at a private research clinic before joining Kelly as an assistant. She knew being of African descent had raised a few eyebrows, but Kelly had never brought it up and had employed her for her skills, nothing else. Tricia lived on her own too, besides her cat, and despite being much older than Kelly, looked up to her. Tricia absorbed herself in her work, often stayed late, and appreciated the fact that she could use work as an excuse not to go out. Kelly on the other hand was a buzz of activity, never able to sit still for more than five minutes.

Tricia drew her jacket up to her chin. When they had boarded the plane it had been hot, but Will had been right. There
were no blankets or heating on board, and now it was quite cold. Where they were going was even colder and as soon as they landed, they needed to be rugged up and ready. She had her bag packed with essentials and the new gloves and scarves she had bought in the Macy’s sale on the empty seat next to her.