by Won, Mark
How wrong I was.
Chapter 2: Avoiding Pedestrians, Taking a Nap, and The Value of Being a Strong Swimmer
By the time Rich had gotten around to mentioning the names of specific cities which had been converted to the enemy, I was encountering larger and larger groups of hostiles. With my attention divided I almost didn’t notice one of the enemy chasing the car. He was a skinny little guy running at over twenty miles per hour. That doesn’t sound like much but he kept cutting corners, gaining on every turn and only losing on the straight ways. It didn’t help that I had to keep maneuvering around increasingly large groups of seemingly suicidal opponents.
Eventually, the situation became so congested that I had to change my course altogether. I really didn’t want to, but at the rate of impact damage my spiffy new car was taking I didn’t have a choice. So I took a turn and moved parallel (more or less) to the coast.
About then Rich noticed our tail and let out a funny little screech. That proved a timely warning. I’d been so worried about what was coming up I’d forgotten to keep an eye on my pursuer. To tell the truth, I’d just assumed that anyone chasing us would be forced to give it up after five miles or so. I should have known better since there was no way that guy should have been able to run that fast in the first place, no matter how messed up he was.
What really surprised me was the leap. That guy got within ten feet of the vehicle’s rear and suddenly he was right up there with us, biting and clawing like a madman. Lucky for me he went for Rich first. That gave me the time I needed to slam on the breaks and watch the lunatic fly over the hood. Rich was slammed face first into the dashboard but that was the least of his worries. That skinny little guy had tore him up pretty good and I didn’t have time to stop and try any first aid. I told Rich to take off his shirt and apply pressure to his neck wound. That was the best I could do.
The skinny little guy wasn’t out of the fight yet. He must have rolled for thirty yards before coming to a stop by hitting the wall of a laundromat. He bounded to his feet and began running right back at me. His body was all torn up from head to foot and I could see bones sticking out in places which would have taken the fight out of me. With the enemy beginning to close in on all sides, I got my knife out and waited. Sure enough, that skinny little guy jumped to me with his teeth gnashing and his fingers stretched out like claws. But I was waiting. I used a quick upward jab under his chin and into his brain. That one never fails to get the job done. No matter how fanatical or blood crazed the enemy, if you can stab him through the brain he goes down for the count. What did surprise me was the foot long tongue that lolled out of his mouth. I had no answer for that.
I had to speed up in a hurry to keep the rest of the horde off the car. Steering with the hand holding onto my knife, while trying to shove the corpse off the hood with the other, I was glad Felicia couldn’t see me. She hates how I drive at the best of times.
I was beginning to get the sense that the greater the population density the greater the number of enemy I could expect to find. With that in mind I decided to head as far out of town as I could and try for the coast in a more remote area. Once there, I planned on dropping Rich off, making my way over water to my family, and then returning for Rich. No sooner had I constructed that wonder of military strategy when I encountered another oddity of the enemy.
At first I thought the twenty-something, professionally dressed businessman in front of me was just another moron waiting to get bounced off a headlight. I struck him, no problem, but he didn’t let go. In fact, he reached his hands up onto the hood and managed to get a grip in the seam. I know from firsthand personal experience how hard that is. One quick juke to the right or left and anybody trying to be a hood ornament would go flying. That’s how I’d been getting rid of the half of the enemy that didn’t fall under the grill.
Then he started tearing the hood up one hand hold at a time as he began climbing his way over to me. I know some people are really strong, but that was something else. No way a human can rip up a metal hood with his bare hands. Also, if he could do that to the hood then what could he do to me? I didn’t want to find out the hard way, so I slowed down, jumped the curb, and crushed his dangling feet between the car and nearest wall. That slowed him down quite a bit but didn’t stop him. With a spray of brick he pulled the crushed remains of his legs free and kept on coming. My next move was to wait for him to have both hands on the hood when I lunged forward and stabbed him in the skull. After that he fell off the hood just fine.
Again, the horde was closing in, and I had to hustle to get the car in gear and moving. From then on I made a point of keeping the speed down to about forty. I wanted to be able to maintain some maneuverability so as to avoid running into (literally) another super strong enemy. I didn’t know how much more damage the car could take at that rate.
Rush hour traffic was starting to become unacceptably troublesome. When my little jaunt had begun I had been remote enough to have little difficulty. Once I reached the main roads, however, all that changed. Whatever had happened had really done a number on everyone driving along the major roads. I mean, driving in Florida during rush hour was like a special kind of hell even before everything happened, but afterward it was a disaster in its own right. One giant traffic jam from start to finish. Everybody’s car had just sort of rolled into one another. Most had crashed off the roadside but that still left plenty to get in the way. There were a number of smaller roads, but they didn’t always go where one might wish. Also, with all the smaller waterways constantly getting in the way there never seemed to be a bridge around when I needed one. Eventually, I found a remote looking spot and ditched the car. It seemed that Rich and I would have to hoof it.
Luckily, Rich’s wounds had begun to clot so he was good to go. My main problem was figuring out how to get through the city and to the docks. That was where I’d left my family’s home, the Puddle Jumper (Don’t blame me- my wife named it). From my point of view the whole damn coast was one giant metropolis, full of horror, looking to drink my blood, and rip me to pieces.
I led Rich away from where we’d left the car and deeper into the wetlands. Once we got far enough away I found a relatively dry spot and set up a camp (if you can call two guys sitting on wet grass ‘setting camp’). Then I took a closer look at Rich’s bites and scratches. I made some bandages out of his shirt and used those to treat the wounds as best I was able. After that it was time to rest and try to get some sleep.
At first Rich was reluctant, but in a couple of hours the adrenaline wore off and he managed to nod off. I woke him up in four hours so I could get some sleep. My watch alarm woke me up just as the sun was beginning to set. I collected Rich and we went back to the car. My new plan was to try and drive nice and slow while the enemy slept. I mean, they had to sleep sometime, right?
It took me all of ten minutes to realize how wrong I had been. The enemy were still everywhere and the roads were no more passable than before. Also, I was getting thirsty. As soon as I saw a gas station I pulled in, parked, and got out. I left the motor running. Running inside, I encountered a couple of the enemy wandering aimlessly (until they saw me). As they moved in I gave each a quick jab to the forehead with my knife. Not exactly how I was trained but adaptation is a primary survival trait. I grabbed some food and water and fled. None too soon, as it turned out.
By the time I had gotten back outside, Rich had abandoned the vehicle and was running toward me. A small crowd of the enemy had followed us into the gas station parking lot and were closing on our position. I had planned on abandoning the vehicle shortly, anyway, so I just left it running as Rich and I began briskly walking away.
Considering how slow our pursuers were I was confident that we’d leave them behind soon enough if we could keep up even a modest pace. Once I was sure we’d left them behind I turned west and began to travel toward the coast. I kept Rich close as we made our way from cover to cover. By then it was dark out and the enemy didn’t seem to have any
night vision capabilities. Using our superior mobility it took us six hours to reach our short term destination without being detected.
From there I turned north. I knew we’d run into trouble long before we reached the pier where I’d docked the houseboat. It was miles away and in the heart of a town. What I would have liked to find was a nice little motorboat. I kept my eyes open for anything that would float.
Shortly into that leg of my journey Rich started acting funny. He came to a sudden stop and seemed to be having trouble with his balance. Then, just like that, he turned into one of the enemy. Even before he reached out his arms for me I was backing away. There was just something wrong about him. Back in the car I hadn’t had time to evaluate my impressions of the enemy, but with Rich standing right there I could almost feel some strange antipathy rolling off him. Then he started moaning. Loudly.
I rushed him, but not without skill. He tried to grab my wrist but it was a clumsy move and easily avoided. Once I’d dispatched Rich (or, at least, what Rich had become) I didn’t wait around listening for signs of pursuit. I knew my location was blown. Unless the enemy I’d bypassed only fifty yards back were deaf, they’d be after me momentarily, and that meant that it was time to run.
Running quietly isn’t as difficult as it sounds, when on a beach. I hoped to get far enough ahead of any pursuit to lose them, before they started moaning and attracted even more of their ilk to my location.
No more than half a mile along I was pleased to encounter some private docks. I was significantly less pleased to also find a mob numbering in the hundreds, all standing at the water’s edge staring at the sea. A loud moan sounded off to my right. I turned to see one of the enemy stumbling toward me. I rushed forward and dispatched him then glanced back toward the crowd. They’d all heard the moan and were moving toward me. One, a slim sun worshiper, was moving with a certain firmness in her step. I knew she’d be a problem. To top it all off, the docks didn’t even have a boat.
It was time for me to find out how well those guys could swim. No knowing where my next meal would come from I gobbled a bag of chips, then I briskly waded out and began swimming. All the rest of my food was lost but I was able to save a bottle of water in a belt pouch. After fifty yards or so I turned around to see how well my pursuers were doing. They were all stuck standing on the beech. It was like they were afraid of the water. As I watched, a small wave lapped up the shore and soaked the shoes of the front rank of onlookers. They immediately backed off a step.
With my new information as my guide, I swam a hundred yards out and then along the shore until the crowd at the beech were completely out of sight. Then I swam back to land and started a quick march home, making sure to always keep the water immediately to my left.
It wasn’t long before my new found escape route was put to the test. A bunch of volleyball players were the next to spot me. Of course, they weren’t playing volleyball anymore. Instead they were all staggering around a volleyball net with a ball laying disregarded off to the side. So I dove back into the water and swam off again. It worked like a charm. While they all stood around I swam along the coast until that crew was out of sight. From then on it was as simple as rinse and repeat.
By the time I got into the town proper, I could no longer make my way on foot. The enemy were far too congested a mob to give anyone walking along a moments peace. That’s when I began swimming in earnest. I remembered where I’d left the Puddle Jumper, but that didn’t mean it would still be there when I got back. My wife would have been crazy to not shove off once she realized the scope of the disaster. It was unthinkable that the disaster had affected either her or the kids. She would surely be waiting for me somewhere nearby, if at all possible. I just had to find her. In the dark and with my visual perspective at sea level. No problem.
I began my search at the pier where I’d left my family the previous morning. Seeing that the docks were covered with the enemy, I decided to swim directly away from them. Hopefully in the direction Felicia had taken the boat. Once I’d gotten a healthy distance from shore I cried out at the top of my voice. I looked at my watch. My idea was to keep up the yelling for five minutes or until someone, hopefully my family, showed up to haul me out of the drink. Long before the time limit I’d given myself was up I saw a light shining on the water, and I knew my wife had turned on the searchlight and was looking for me. It didn’t take her long to shine that light in my direction.
Once they sailed up to me I just about flew up the lifeline they threw me. There were hugs and kisses all around. Everybody was shocked at my appearance, what with my wet suit hanging off me from the alligator bites. Felicia insisted on treating the bites and putting on several bandages. Naturally, the kids wanted to help. Sarah and Lindsy had both been scared out of their minds with worry. I just couldn’t get them to stop crying. Eventually, I put them in our bed and stayed with them until they fell asleep. It didn’t take long.
My wife looked like she could use some sleep, too. She had turned the news on when the attack had started and had stayed abreast of developments as well as she had been able. That’s when I learned for sure that the world had ended.
When I asked her about her parents and siblings she said that they were still alive. Her family were all from the same small Missouri town. Most of it’s population had turned into the enemy, but her dad, George, had cut their numbers down some with his hunting rifle.
I didn’t have anyone left alive on my side of the family to call. I used to have two siblings, we were the children of an English teacher and a tenured philosophy professor. I was back from college in my hometown of Chicago, celebrating Festivus (the folks had no use for Christmas) with the whole family. That was when some asshole terrorist thought it would be a good idea to detonate a firebomb in the neighborhood. I was the sole survivor. I never went back to Berkeley (I felt that they had taught me all that they had to offer), instead I joined the Military the very next day.
Felicia asked me, “Where will we go now, Paul?”
I gave it a moment to mull the question over. “We’re going to gather up everyone else lucky enough to have made it to a boat and then sail north. We’ll head up the Mississippi and make our way to some island in the river. From there I’ll try and figure out how to get your mom and dad and anyone else back to us.”
I gave her dad a call. I knew that without people manning the switches it was just a matter of a few short hours before the grid would collapse. If I wanted to contact him, sooner would be better than later. We talked about logistics. He figured that they could stay put for quite some time. Long enough for us to reach them, anyway. We decided to put off any other plans until we could at least manage to get together. Maybe we’d stay there, maybe they’d come with us. It was too soon to tell. I hung up.
Felicia told me that she loved me. I responded in kind. Then I got her into bed with the kids and finally started using the radio. While I was at it I kept an eye on the TV, just in case something changed.
I managed to get ahold of a lot of friendlies. Up and down the coast there were a number of like minded people who really wanted to band together for security. Most had fled from the enemy, made their way to the boats, and sailed to safety. From there they had picked up anyone along the coast who looked in need of rescue. We did have a difference of opinion regarding the direction we should be traveling, though. Most wanted to travel south and east, into the Caribbean. I couldn’t blame them. Much easier to survive the winter. Plenty of small islands to choose from. Generally not as many people-turned-enemy to worry about. I did, however, find a few boats that wanted to travel with us by the time the sun crested the horizon.
Chapter 3: Getting Together, Modern Shopping, and Making New Friends
Gathering everyone together took the better part of the next day. Tony and his family were about sixty miles south of my location. They had a houseboat just like us and wanted to head north to keep away from the annual storms and hurricanes which plagued that part of the world. Za
nder was a bit of a lone wolf (at least until all this happened). He was all for joining up with my family because it was the smaller of the groups to choose from. That didn’t make much sense to me when he said it, but I wasn’t going to try and talk him out of it. He was located only five miles away. Marge had managed to escape to safety with her sister, Lucy, and they both thought heading south into the Caribbean was a horrible idea. Way too many pirates. Maybe not the greatest bunch to begin with, but they were what I had.
Once I got everyone together we began traveling immediately. Our top cruising speed was a paltry eight knots. The Sorrensen sisters were the hold up with their antiquated wooden pleasure craft. As slow as it was it did have one advantage. I thought that if we ran out of gas the sails just might come in handy.
We passed a fair number of other craft headed in the opposite direction. Most were trying for the keys but there were plenty sailing for farther shores. I wished them luck.
While I got some sleep I left my wife with instructions to keep an eye open for any likely looking places we might loot. There was no way we were getting all the way to Felicia’s family without refueling at some point. Also, it would probably be a good idea to garner in whatever supplies we could along the way.
Just after sundown, my older daughter, Sarah, woke me up to tell me that ‘Mom wanted me’. I found her up top, behind the wheel. She was looking over some charts in one hand while holding the radio with the other.
I asked her, “What’s up, hon?”
“I think I’ve found a good place to do some shopping. It’s that small town right there,” she said while pointing to a map, “What do you think?”
