Trouble in Paradise

by David Rogers

  Beneath Ángel’s feet, the floor was on fire. He was basically standing, or at least walking through, a pool of flame. As she noted that, she also realized the cabinets on either side were aflame too. And the fire was tall and big enough to reach the ceiling, which was rapidly starting to blacken. Tiffany got far enough back that she wasn’t beneath Betsy anymore and started to shift around to her knees. Hugh was already up, kneeling and reaching forward toward the injured girl.

  But Ángel reached her first. He collapsed down across Betsy’s feet and grabbed onto her legs. Betsy was screaming before he even made contact, kept screaming as Hugh grabbed onto her arm, and then shifted her screams into a new octave and level of panicked fear as the fiery Ángel got hold of her.

  The room was full of crackling and sizzling, and Tiffany wasn’t entirely sure where it was all coming from. It was like everything was making noise, and none of it was good. Betsy’s screams were reverberating around the space in time with the pop and snap of flames. She saw the cook had buried his blazing head against her friend’s calf, and looked like he was doing exactly what the two men – plague victims – up near the bridge were doing to Ann.

  Settling down to eat.

  “He won’t let go!” Hugh shouted, tugging on Betsy. The girl was still screaming, but her cries were starting to fade. Tiffany reached up and grabbed the countertop above her, struggling to use it and her legs to get up. As she clawed to her feet, she saw the skin on Betsy’s legs was starting to blacken.

  “Help her!” Tiffany shouted.

  “I’m trying!”

  Betsy’s screams were getting quieter. Her head dropped back and hit the deck as she passed out, and Tiffany blinked when she saw the girl’s hair was starting to catch fire. The bikini she wore was already sagging like melted plastic, which made Tiffany blink. Then she realized how hot the room was.

  “Fuck!” Hugh swore, suddenly straightening and turning from Betsy and Ángel. Grabbing Tiffany, he pulled her from the room. She gasped as the cooler air of the hallway outside hit her face, but even as she welcomed the relief, she found herself struggling against his hands.

  “Betsy!” she screamed into his face. “She’s dying.”

  “She’s dead.” Hugh shouted back.

  “Not yet.”

  “In few more seconds she will be. Or close enough that we couldn’t save her anyway.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “The boat’s going up.” he said as something in the kitchen emitted an enormous crack of breakage. “That fire’s getting out of hand.”

  “Do something!” Tiffany insisted.

  “What?”

  “Get rid of the fire!”

  “How? There’s only two extinguishers on board. One of them’s in there and the other’s on the bridge.”

  “Go get the one on the bridge.”

  “Past those two . . . whatever the hell they are?” Hugh demanded. “Plus by the time I got back, it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

  Tiffany scowled at him, then jumped as something else broke inside the kitchen with a resounding crack. She found herself backing away before she realized she’d moved. “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “I think we jump ship and see if we can’t make shore.”

  “We can’t swim back to Florida!” Tiffany half-screamed at him.

  “If it’s try or burn or get eaten, I’ll take the swim if it’s all the same to you.” Hugh said. “But maybe we won’t have to.”

  He started toward the little hatch door he’d extracted the medical kit from, but before he could reach it there was another whomp-woosh of an explosion, and the kitchen door flew open to admit a ball of flame. Tiffany scrambled further back and found herself out on the back deck of the boat, where she and Betsy and Ann had been sunbathing. A moment later Hugh stumbled out and tripped. He landed on his butt with a wince and a cough. She saw his face was red, and there were singe marks in his eyebrows and hair.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” he shrugged, pushing himself upright. Turning toward her, he gestured at the side of the yacht. “You coming?”

  “You’re not serious?”

  Rather than answer, Hugh simply took three steps and hopped right over the railing. She heard the splash as he hit the water. Tiffany stared at where he’d disappeared from view. It was impossible. Sure she knew how to swim, but they were . . .

  Something else went up in the kitchen, something with enough energy as it caught flame to produce a third detonation effect. The yacht rocked, and she felt a wash of hot air roiling out of the passage she was more or less standing in line with.

  “Oh God!” she moaned before scrambling over to the railing and looking at the water. Hugh was already several yards from the boat, swimming hand over hand with great form. “Wait!”

  “Jump.” he yelled back without stopping.

  Tiffany jumped over the railing and fell into the water. It was warm from the late summer sun, but enough cooler than the air that she gasped as she plunged in. Kicking and pulling with her hands, she felt her descent stop, and then she was breaking the surface next to the yacht. Blinking water out of her eyes, she bicycle kicked with her legs to tread water while she wiped her hair back from her face so she could see.

  “Over here.” she heard Hugh call off to her left some, and she twisted around in that direction. His hand waved twice at her, and she struck out after him; he was waiting for her. She wasn’t a great swimmer, but she did swim laps a few times a week for exercise, and wasn’t completely hopeless. She reached him quickly enough, but as soon as she did he started swimming again.

  Tiffany scowled, but it was follow or founder. She couldn’t yell at him and swim at the same time; not with her pulse racing and the waves rocking her back and forth as she tried to keep up. He kept going at a good pace for what felt like a long time, but when he finally stopped and she was able to follow suit; she realized they were only maybe fifty or sixty yards from the yacht.

  Treading water next to him, she followed his gaze and saw the yacht was really going now. Most of the back third seemed to be engulfed in flames. Sooty black smoke was burbling up into the sky like a beacon. She hoped so. Maybe someone would come to investigate.

  “Now what?”

  “Way I see it,” Hugh said as he looked around, “is we either float around out here and hope someone comes by to rescue us; or we head for shore before we get too tired to swim.”

  “Where’s shore?”

  “That way.” he said, raising a hand clear of the water to point.

  Tiffany looked, but she saw nothing but water. This low, without the advantage of height the yacht had afforded, she couldn’t even really see the horizon’s curvature; just waves as she bobbed up and down. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Sun’s there.” he pointed at it. “It’s setting. That’s west. Therefore east is this way, and that means Florida is there.” he continued, moving his point in the opposite direction, before bringing it back to the first place he’d indicated. “I think we should start swimming.”

  “Won’t someone come check on the fire?”

  “Maybe.” he shrugged. “On a normal day, I’d probably agree with you. We could let the fire to die down some, then salvage some debris or something to help us float while we waited.”

  “Why not now though?”

  “The stuff going on with the plague or whatever it is.” Hugh said. “If what happened to the captain and Ángel and Martin is happening on the beach . . . if it’s happening on other boats in the area . . . I think every minute we waste floating around out here hoping to be rescued could be a minute we want back when we’re tiring and trying to keep from drowning.”

  “If we swim back, how long is it going to take?”

  “I don’t know.” he admitted. “But I do know I don’t like the odds if we just stay here.”

  Tiffany bit her lip unhappily. After a moment she nodded. “Okay.”

  He nodded back. “Great. S
o let’s get going.”

  Hugh struck out in the direction he’d picked as where Florida was supposed to be. After a moment, Tiffany followed suit. Behind them, the yacht kept burning.

  # # #

  If you enjoyed this short, you might find Apocalypse Atlanta entertaining. Free samples are available, so why not give it a try?

  Also by David Rogers

  Apocalypse Atlanta – We’ve all seen it on the news every year. A hurricane, a tornado, a tsunami, a flood. A BAD thing happens, and all hell breaks loose.

  Some people are caught in the chaos, others are victims, some run, others wait for help, most sit at home watching for everything to be fixed for them, and a few dive in to do whatever they can.

  The thing about a zombie apocalypse is whether or not you’re in that initial wave of people who get hungry and start snacking. And where you are as few turn to many. As we all know, when it’s zombies, soon many turns to most. And it’s over when most become all.

  Apocalypse Atlanta follows three people as the zombies start eating and bring the world down around them a bite at a time.

  One is a retired Marine. The second is a widowed single mother. And the third is a biker.

  Are there right or wrong answers when zombies are involved? Do things like morality and decency matter? Is it better to be alive to feel guilty, or dead an honorable? Who decides who’s right or wrong when a single mistake can make you dinner for a ravenous horde of the undead?

  The story that started it all, the preceding book to Apocalypse Aftermath.

  http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Atlanta/dp/B00D538D6M/

  Apocalypse Aftermath – the follow-up to Apocalypse Atlanta, continuing the stories of Peter, Jessica, and Darryl.

  When an apocalypse starts, there's always running and screaming. Sooner or later, most of that starts to fade; if only because most of the runners and screamers are dead. Once the end of the world gets going in earnest, the sprint becomes a marathon. You can’t run all the time, can you?

  Saving someone is easy. Helping them is what's hard. Heroes happen all the time. After those moments when you become someone's saviour, what comes next? One day turns to two, and then the days are a week. Time keeps ticking by, and if you're going to keep from being ground beneath the clock’s relentless push, you've got to find the essentials for life. Food, water, shelter, safety. Everything else is negotiable.

  Apocalypse Aftermath picks up where Apocalypse Atlanta leaves off; following three people, each going in three different directions, all trying to survive the end of the world. The same question faces Peter, Jessica, and Darryl; what’s next? What’s a safe path to follow, one that doesn’t place them and those they’re with at risk of becoming a meal for the zombies? What’s the right move, and how do they see it for what it is in time to act? Which way is the right way?

  Because whether you’re an aging retired Marine, a widowed single mother, or a biker who bounces, the problem is the same.

  Zombies.

  http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Aftermath/dp/B00KKB43E8

  Apocalypse Asunder – When zombies show up, the world usually goes to hell. They tend have that effect on, well, on everything. Zombies aren’t good, aren’t bad; they just are. They can’t help themselves. They destroy and consume because it’s what they do. Unfeelingly, unthinkingly, unerringly. But while a hungry corpse will hunt you down and chew you up . . . what people will do can be far worse.

  What turns good people bad? It’s really not that hard to figure out. They want something more than you. They need something more than you. Because no one is stopping them. Trust is a casualty of the apocalypse as surely as safety and survival. Not everyone is bad, but apathy and a lack of concern kill the same as malicious intent. An awful lot of people will let a lot of awful things happen if it means they survive. They’ll even do them to you; who cares if they feel bad about it afterwards? Because that’s what it’s all about when everything goes to hell.

  Survival.

  In the middle of a zombie apocalypse, nothing is routine and nothing is normal. One mistake can be your last. With winter closing in and life stripped of all the things that turn winter from just one more season into something that can kill, Jessica has to decide which is more dangerous for her and her daughter. Do they travel across two states in search of warm shelter, or sit tight and pray for providence to see them through?

  One thing Jessica’s learned amid the apocalypse though . . . help comes to those who help themselves.

  http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Asunder/dp/B00P07HDNU/

  Apocalypse Asylum – In the two months since they brought the apocalypse down on the world, zombies have reduced everything to a shattered scattering of isolated survivor groups clinging to what’s left of their lives. Living day to day, hand to mouth, constantly fighting amid the ruins of what’s left of a civilization that was over seven billion people strong; it isn’t much, but it’s that or become one more monster.

  One thing zombies have going for them is persistence. Zombies never give up, never get tired, and are always hungry. Zombies might be clumsy and slow, but humans get distracted and make mistakes. The patience of death will always win out against the imperfection of humanity. The clock is ticking on the living, not the dead.

  Peter Gibson has survived some of the worst the zombies could throw at him in downtown Atlanta, and has managed to help his battered squad carve out a safe spot in rural north Georgia for five thousand souls. But squatting in a tent village, spending the days guarding the perimeter and making scavenging runs for more canned food and dry goods, praying that a zombie horde big enough to roll over the humans doesn’t show up; that’s just a holding action. It doesn’t address the real problem.

  Zombies.

  What’s left of the government has been gathering itself at an Air Force base in the northern Midwest. They say they’re working on holding and expanding a secured area, eventually aiming to retake the entire continent. When his camp picks up those radio transmissions, that’s what Peter’s been holding on for two months to hear. But it’s eighteen hundred miles from Georgia to South Dakota, and between the Atlantic and Pacific are over two hundred million zombies.

  Getting there will take a road trip of nightmare proportions.

  http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Asylum/dp/B00TD7NS1O/

  Bite Sized Apocalypse – an anthology of five short stories set in the universe of Apocalypse Atlanta. The common thread is the zombies. Each story looks at a different little slice of the apocalypse as it gets going for those particular characters. Little bite-sized chunks of it.

  Is that a dinner bell I hear?

  http://www.amazon.com/Bite-Sized-Apocalypse/dp/B00DUFWNKW/

  The five stories in Bite Sized Apocalypse are also available individually.

  Better to be Lucky – You've thought about it. What would the first few hours of a zombie apocalypse be like? For one company of military police, it was like almost any other job in the service. Boredom with flashes of sheer, howling terror.

  http://www.amazon.com/Better-be-Lucky/dp/B00DENSDNG/

  Marching through the Apocalypse – Many things might be happening when a zombie apocalypse begins. For some of the most genre aware people in Atlanta, their survival wasn't so much who or where they were, but rather what they were wearing when people started getting hungry.

  http://www.amazon.com/Marching-through-Apocalypse/dp/B00DEKA1IY/

  There goes the Weekend – A bail bondsman's, er . . . woman's, day can be boring or interesting. Boring can be profitable, and interesting can be fun. But there is such a thing as too much fun. When Darla goes looking for a wife beater right when the zombie apocalypse kicks off, there goes the weekend.

  http://www.amazon.com/There-goes-Weekend/dp/B00DSGFGBQ/

  Smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em – Life is about rules. Lots of rules. But when zombies start eating people, the rules change.

  http://www.amazon.com/Smoke-youve-got/dp/B00DTI8S7C/

 
A little me time – Every year, Lloyd spends a week hiking in the North Georgia mountains. This year, while he's getting away from it all, everything goes straight to hell.

  www.amazon.com/little-me-time/dp/B00DR5IPF2/

  Apocalyptic Appetizer – a second anthology of five short stories set in the universe of Apocalypse Atlanta. Each story looks at a different little slice of the apocalypse as it gets going. Little bite sized chunks of it. A tasty meal ahead of the main course as full-fledged apocalypse gets going.

  Bon appétit.

  The five stories in Apocalyptic Appetizer are also available individually.

  You are what you eat – When a zombie apocalypse starts, everyone has problems. Well, everyone who’s not a zombie I guess. For one student in a small South Georgia town, her problem was zombies don’t respect dietary restrictions.

  www.amazon.com/You-are-what-you-eat/dp/B00ELLZGX0/

  Gut Check at the Choke-and-Puke – Lauren is a truck stop girl, just one more service provider riding the interstates and making a living. A layover south of Atlanta turns into more than just a fuel, food, and rest stop when zombies turn up. One thing leads to another, and soon it's everyone for themselves. Lauren has to hold on to both her stomach if she's going to hold onto her life.

  www.amazon.com/Gut-Check-at-Choke---Puke/dp/B00KMJNNTE/

  Working with Zed – One of the biggest problems someone faces in the middle of a zombie apocalypse is who to trust. One nine-year-old boy doesn’t have that problem. He knows who to trust.

  His dog.

  http://www.amazon.com/Working-Zed/dp/B00MXKIF84/

  Time to Shine – Some people are more ready for the apocalypse than others. The kind of people who others snicker and snort at in normal times, they come into their own when zombies start snacking. Joe is one of those people who get treated like they're a bit too enthusiastic about his hunting and shooting and ready-for-anything hobbies. For him, zombies are just an excuse to step up and get things done.