The Swiss Family RobinZOM (8 page)

“
She was a vegetarian,”
he said. “She must have been pretending. She was a bad
man!”

“
Fritz,” Liz said,
stepping onto the courtyard, “your father needs your
help.”

“
All right,” Fritz
said.

He turned to Francis and held
up his hand.

“Good work,” he said. “High
five!”

Francis jumped and high
fived Fritz’s hand. Fritz left.

“
What do you think of our
snares, Mum?” Francis said.

“
They’re great,” Liz
said. “I feel safer already. Come on, let’s go inside. You can help
me make lunch.”

Tring-
a-ling!

L
iz’s head jerked up at the first bell. It came to a stop.
Liz listened for more, but there was nothing but silence. Liz took
a deep breath and took a step toward Falcon’s Nest.

Tring-
a-ling!
the first bell went again.
Liz bent down to Francis.

“
Francis,” she said, “I
need you to stay and guard our home, okay?”

“
But I thought we were
going to make lunch?” Francis said.

Tring-a-ling!
the second bell
went.

“
We’ll make it later,”
Liz said. “Right now we’ve got a few things to do. I want you to go
into the treehouse and wait there, okay?”

Tring-a-ling!
the first and
second bells went. The first bell paused for a second between each
ring.

“
But I want to go out and
fight with you,” Francis said.

“
You are fighting,” Liz
said. “You’re defending our home. You must make sure none of the
Lurchers get in while we’re away. Okay?”

Francis nodded.

“
Okay,” he
said.

“
Promise me you won’t go
anywhere.”

“
I promise.”

“
Pinky promise
me.”

Liz extended her little
finger, and F
rancis wrapped his own
around hers. She lifted him up in her arms, held him tight and
kissed him on the cheek.

“
I love you,” she
said.

“
I love you too,
Momma.”

Liz
’s tears stung her eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” she
said.

Tring-
a-ling!
Liz looked up at the bells. The first bell
rattled and rang, flying wildly side to side, never stopping. The
second bell rang almost as frequently.

Tring-
a-ling!
the third bell rang. Liz turned and ran into the
jungle.

Twenty
-One

Bill and Fritz had just
felled another tree by the time Liz rounded
the corner.

“
They’re coming!” Liz
said.

“
Who’s coming?” Bill
said.

“
My parents. Who do you
think?”

Bill looked over
at their traps.

“
But we’re not ready,” he
said.

“
What’ll we do?” Liz
said.

“
When did the bells start
ringing?”

“
About five minutes
ago.”

“
Then we have about
twenty or thirty minutes before they get here.”

Bill punched a tree.

“
Crap!” he said. “We need
more time.”

“
How much longer do we
need?” Liz said.

“
I don’t know. Thirty
minutes. An hour. The longer the better.”

Liz hopped onto
Lightfoot’s back.

“
Then you keep building,”
she said.

Bill stepped in front of
the
donkey.

“
Where do you think
you’re going?” he said.

“
To give you your extra
time,” Liz said.

Bill shook his head.

“
We’ll head for the boat
and get out of here,” he said.

“
No. We’re fighting. And
somebody has to do this. You’re better at building than me. Do you
really want one of the boys to do it?”

Bill thought for a moment, then
stepped aside. Liz pulled up next to him, leaned down and kissed
him on the cheek.

“
I love you,” Bill
said.

“
And you always will,”
Liz said. “Now, get back to work, slacker.”

She turned toward the jungle
with a determined look in her eye.

“
Giddyup!” she
said.

T
he donkey sprang into a sedate pace. Bill’s heart swelled
with equal parts pride and concern as his beloved rode with a
distinct lack of grace into the foliage.

“
What do you want me to
do, Dad?” Fritz said.

“
First, help me put this
trunk into position,” Bill said.

They grabbed a vine each
and put all their strength and weight into hefting the
trunk
, and then tied it off. They picked
up an axe each and felled another log. They stripped it, prepared
it, and hoisted it into position. They completed two more in quick
succession before they stopped.

“
There,” Bill said,
wiping the sweat from his forehead. “That wasn’t so difficult, was
it? Go get your brothers.”

Bill
took a deep breath through his nose and got his breath
back. He stood with his hands behind his back surveying the area
they had turned into a booby trap artist’s paradise. The holes were
covered with broad leaves, indistinguishable from the greenery
surrounding it. Lumps of dripping meat hung above each of them.
Half a dozen trunks with obsidian fringes sat perched in the boughs
of half a dozen trees. The nets of coconuts hung overhead,
precarious and ready. The Robinson boys strode over to their
father.

“You wanted to see us?” Ernest
said.

“
Yes,” Bill said.
“The Lurchers are on their way, and there won’t
be just a few of them. They will come in their hundreds, in their
thousands, maybe. But we must be ready for them. Do not hesitate.
Because they will not hesitate.”

F
or a moment he said nothing and looked from one son to the
next, taking them in.

“
I’m very proud of you,”
he said. “All of you. Fritz, for your strength. Ernest, for your
wisdom. Jack, for your bravery. Francis, for his curiosity. You
boys are the greatest achievement of my life. It makes me proud to
see you all standing here before me today. No father could have
better sons.”

His sons smiled back
at
him.

“
You boys have been lucky
enough never to have experienced war,” Bill said. “Today you might
just get a taste. It won’t be sweet, it won’t be honourable, but we
will be victorious. The Lurchers are a flood, and though it may not
seem like it, their numbers are not limitless. Let’s show those
Lurchers what Swiss Robinsons are made of.”

“
Yeah!” Ernest said,
getting carried away. “Let’s do it!”

He looked at Fritz and Jack
with sheepish eyes and blossomed red.

“
Jack,” Bill said, “I
want you in the trees with the vines attached to the coconut bombs.
Ernest, I want you to take care of the trunks in the
trees.”

“
Can I suggest we call
them ‘trunks of terror’?” Ernest said.

Bill thought for a moment.

“
No,” he said. “Get into
your positions.”

Jack
and Ernest slung their bows and a full quiver of arrows
over their shoulders. Ernest climbed a tree with slow deliberate
movements with the air of a man not comfortable with his own body.
Jack took to a tree and scaled it as easily as if he were
walking.

“
I’m not sure whose
brother Jack is,” Fritz said. “Ours or Nip’s.”

“
If he’d been born after
we got to the island, I would have had serious words with your
mother,” Bill said.

Fritz chuckled.

“
What do you want me to
do?” he said.

“
I want you by my side,”
Bill said. “If any of those Lurchers get through this assault
course, I want us ready for them.”

Fritz
felt at the handle of his baseball bat jutting up from the
sheath on his back. Bill slid his machete into a specially-made
sheath at his waist. They nodded to one another and took up their
bows. The foliage at the end of the booby trap corridor rustled.
The Robinson men nocked their arrows and waited. The foliage burst
open. Liz emerged, riding Lightfoot. She led the donkey deftly
around the traps.

“
They’re here,” Liz
said.

She was out of breath,
face drawn and pale. She climbed off Lightfoot.

“
They’re here, and there
are too many of them,” she said. “We’ll never hold them
back.”

“
We have to try,” Bill
said.

“
This is all that stands
in their way between us and them,” Fritz said, gesturing to the
booby traps before them. “I hope it’s enough.”

“
So do I,” Bill
said.

T
he death groans began as a deep guttural grunt. Quiet, and
yet somehow piercing – not to the ear, but to the soul. The foliage
rustled and shook. A torn arm hung at the side of a middle aged
blonde woman who was the first to come through. Then an old man’s
shredded face emerged, his moustache pink with blood, his white
eyes vacant and cold. They came like they were entering through a
portal from another world.

The
y stepped forward, and the flood began.

Twenty
-Two

The Lurcher had eyes only
for the meat
. She approached, arms
outstretched and grasping. The meat came within a hair’s width. The
Lurcher took a step forward and fell through a false jungle floor
and into the pit, a dozen spikes impaling her body at once. There
were hard thuds and wet cracking noises as more Lurchers piled into
the pits. But still, moaning their low groan of the dead, they
pushed on. One Lurcher made contact with the meat, but it swung
there, above the hole, the movement making it even more
irresistible. A brunette Lurcher wearing a pink bikini with blood
splatters on the cups had half her face missing, her eye hanging
from its socket.

“
That has got to be the
least sexy thing I’ve ever seen,” Fritz said.

Then a three hundred pound man
in a tight pair of speedos stumbled through the foliage.

“
I remain corrected,”
Fritz said.

“
That’s enough
sightseeing,” Bill said. “Form up!”

The whole Robinson family
nocked their arrows and
raised their
bows. They fired. The arrows sailed through the air and struck the
Lurchers in the head, neck and chest. Only those struck in the head
went down, trampled underfoot by those pushing from behind. The
other Lurchers continued forward with arrows jutting from their
torsos. Those not impaled got to their feet and reached for the
meat with outstretched fingers.

“
Jack!” Bill said.
“Release Coconut Bomb one!”

Jack lowered his bow and
pulled on the vine. The net opened, spilling its contents onto the
hapless Lurchers
below. The coconuts
smashed open skulls and squirted brain matter over adjacent
Lurchers. Proceeding Lurchers tripped over their fallen
comrades.

“
Ernest!” Bill shouted.
“Release the first trunk of terror!”

Ernest pulled on a vine,
and the trunk was
released from its
restrictive struts. The razor-edge glinted in the embers of
daylight, and slammed into the Lurchers. It cut through the first
row, slicing off heads and arms. The Lurchers behind took the force
of the blow, and got knocked sideways, spilling into the open jaws
of a pit. Spikes pierced their bodies in a dozen places, entering
the soft rotten corpses like a finger in jelly. Some were impaled,
but still alive. They put their arms out to either side to push
themselves off the spikes, but lacked the strength to do so. The
family continued to fire arrows at the Lurchers, aiming for the
soft tainted flesh of their faces. Ernest pulled on the vine,
returning the trunk back to its resting position, and released it
again.

“
We should have made the
holes deeper,” Fritz said.

“
Yes,” Bill said. “All
the way to Brazil.”

O
nly once the hole was packed shoulder to shoulder with
Lurchers could the undead stumble forward over their comrades’
heads and grab the meat. Tiny morsels fell into the waiting mouths
and grasping hands of those below. The Lurchers bit one another and
fought over the tiny scraps. The vine holding the bait snapped, and
the meat fell into the pit along with the Lurcher. As the Lurchers
stumbled over one another in the pits, they came to the next row of
holes, and fell through the leaves.

“
Get back!” Bill shouted
to Ernest and Jack, who were standing on branches over the
hoard.

Jack jumped with easy
agility to another
branch. Ernest
crouched down and crawled to another limb. The rest of the family
took aim and continued to fire arrows.