I hoist the two mainsails for Ian, and he cuts the motor. The wind easily pushes us down the coast. He has me and Hana ‘trim the sails’, as he calls it. When the wind starts flapping the sails he tells us how to adjust them. It puts a new perspective on sailing for me. I find myself actually enjoying it.
Because of the barrier islands, the big deep waves and the rocking of the boat are pretty much gone. I’ve completely lost the sick feeling from the storm the night before, which is good because I was close to taking out my pain on Ben’s face. He wasn’t doing anything except being himself. Anyway, lucky for him.
The next day the weather is still calm. I think we just passed Harker’s Island at the far eastern shore of North Carolina. I’d been trying to figure out the charts we found of the eastern coast and I’m getting the hang of finding landmarks. Ian helps some, but Josh is the best at what he calls ‘spatial dimensions.’ I’m starting to see what he sees when he finds stuff. I get Ian to tack toward land so I can see the landmarks.
I read the compass. We’re going west now. So that means we’re passing through Bogue Sound. It’s pretty nice out here. I let my hair down so it can blow and that makes my scalp feel good. I pull out my assortment of weapons and clean them. Tanis sits with me, his dog licking my feet every now and then. It’s, like, kissing my ass or something.
The water gets pretty shallow. Ian orders Hana and Ben to the front so they can tell him if he’s going off the channel. I look at the map and the compass. We’re going southwest now, probably by Myrtle Island. We’re at a weird spot with lots of little islands around. The channel we’re in is pretty deep, but it’s narrowing. As we coast around the island we see a bunch of docks jutting out from the beach. There are houses on big grassy lots right on the water, and lots of little motorboats everywhere. Some have been sunk, but most are just rotting.
It’s still and quiet like it’s perpetually five in the morning. I jog at that time, or used to, because it was so quiet. I loved it. Now the feeling seems to be following me everywhere I go. I’m not fighting anyone or anything on the boat so I get antsy. Sometimes I hate how my mind plays games with me. I like to be distracted. I expect everyone here to be asses or rude or to need to be put in their place, but we’re all tired. No one talks much and everyone is pretty much getting along. I can’t stand it, but I can at the same time. Maybe I should go ashore and bust some heads for a while to burn my motor.
Markus makes some kind of racket, and everyone but Ian runs starboard. There are a bunch of sea birds on the beach. They’re all dead, but lying in huge piles, like leaves raked up after a windstorm has knocked them off the trees. I’m not too into nature, but it makes me feel kinda sad. The virus got ‘em, I think. That means that all other animals are vulnerable.
“So that’s why we’re not seeing many animals,” Josh says. “They’re running scared.” Rice starts sobbing. Kat barks at them. It’s strange how there are no puppets out here. We haven’t seen too many since we freed the Pioneer from the sand bar. I wonder if they’ve finally found something else to chase.
Ian needs me. I go and sit by him with the map.
“We’ve run out of shoreline to follow,” I say. I point to the map and follow the channel ‘til it goes inland. “We either go left up here out to the Atlantic, or we go right and stay in the narrow channel.” I pull my hair up. The tightness of the bun makes me think better.
“I don’t mind the channel, but we’ve been motoring for over two hours because of how narrow this is. We’ll burn more fuel this way.”
“We get more fuel,” I say without hesitation.
“I agree. Lots of options in here. Out at sea we’re more vulnerable to the weather.” Ian shakes his head. “I’ll never forget that storm around Cape Hatteras.”
So Ian takes the channel. We keep the mainsail up and motor sail to keep us going fast. I spoke too soon. We pass under a bridge that’s got some puppets stumbling around on it. They look like fisherman. Ben points one guy out. “Sucker’s just walking in circles!” he says, laughing. Josh runs to see, along with Hana and Tanis.
“So, if it’s not chowing on anyone or doesn’t have anything to chase, it just keeps moving?” Tanis asks. “That’s messed up.”
“No rest for the wicked,” Markus mumbles. I’m not quite sure why he said that. Maybe it was his version of a joke.
“Yeah, well, they’re not trying to eat our brains,” Ben adds.
“That’s right,” Josh put one leg up on the cushion. “They don’t seem to want to eat for sustenance. It’s more about trying to tear open the skin and get those white root things into our bodies to spread the infection.”
As we pass under the bridge, a fisherman puppet looks at us. His empty stare locks in our direction. Then he screams. We continue down the waterway. More and more puppets come out of the brush and trees. They’re talking about us to every puppet in earshot. We’re still going pretty fast, but my body goes on alert. This is the other bad part about being in the narrow channel. We can be seen.
Hana approaches us. “I’m thinking the channel might be a bad idea,” she says.
“Scared?” I ask.
“Worried.”
“Let ‘em try somethin’,” I reply, then look away.
An hour passes. The puppets are all around the channel’s edge. They are anticipating our movements. One of ‘em tries to jump off a small dock near us. It falls into the water stupidly. Tanis yells something and Hana runs off. I look at Ian. We’re finally alone together. “I heard you last night,” I say to him.
Ian pretends to not know what I’m talking about. “Hum?”
“You were fighting the storm and yelling at the storm or God or somethin,” I say quietly. His cheeks turned pink like a little girl. But I’d heard something come from his mouth that I need him to clarify for me. “What was it you were saying?”
“I was just freaking out. No big deal.”
“You have to tell me.” I lean close to him. “Tell me. I don’t want to become your enemy.” I see him lock up. His eyes get hard. My threat backfires. I tone it down. “I know what you said. Just clarify it for me. I don’t want to tell the others. Give me your side.”
Ian takes a deep breath. I can tell he wants so badly to tell someone what’s on his mind. I usually wouldn’t give a shit, but he said something that made me so damn curious. He’d said he killed the world and if God wanted him dead, he should be killed in that storm.
Ian runs his fingers through his jet-black hair.
“Cough it up, man,” I urge.
“Nothing. It’s nothing. I just miss everyone. Even the people I though I hated.”
I fold my arms. One way or another he’ll tell me his secret.
“You’re getting too close to the edge!” Hana yells. Ian corrects the boat. We’ve entered a very narrow channel. He rubs his temples, fighting his mind. “First we have to survive.”
“No shit,” I reply.
Three hours pass. I sit next to Ian in silence the whole time. The sun is getting low in the sky. I look at the map. I don’t really want to be stuck in this channel after dark. It might make things more difficult.
We pass a bunch of houses again. These are smaller and have tiny yards. But there are just as many small docks poking into the water. This time the yards and the docks and the shoreline aren’t empty. Hundreds of puppets are on to our scent. Damn.
I stand and pace, feeling wound up. I can hear those fucking things. We enter a large body of water. More like a lake. Josh sits with me, trying to figure out where we are. I think we’re passing through Everett Bay. We sail on but will have to stop soon when the channel narrows again. Ian says we’ve got a half tank of fuel and only five gallons left.
We approach a town. I think it’s Surf City. We’re still in North Carolina! I wish we could go faster. Josh climbs to the very end of the bowsprit. I guess he’s grown some balls. He turns and starts yelling and flapping his arm. Hana runs to him. My adrenaline spikes. Something is
wrong.
Hana turns to Ian, relaying Josh’s scream. “Stop the boat!” Ian flips the boat’s motor in reverse, slowing us. The boat stops in the middle of the channel. There are thousands of puppets along the shores. Everyone scampers up to the deck to see what’s going on. The puppets look less and less like people and more like plants. The white roots inside their bodies are growing on the outside as well. One of the puppets steps over the edge of the channel and splashes into the water. We’re approaching a narrow part. But it looks okay because it’s a pivot bridge that is open all the way.
The boat starts to turn. Its nose gets too close to the edge. It clearly excites some of the puppets, like creeps hangin’ outside a college bar at closing time. Ian puts the boat in gear and starts moving forward. “I have to keep going. If we’re not moving I have no control over the boat.”
We slowly start moving down the channel again. The puppet crowd gets thicker and thicker. There are some homes to the right and some small docks to the left. After a half hour or so we approach a huge drawbridge platform sitting half in the water. We get closer to the bridge. It had been blown to bits, but there looks like a huge dog pile of puppets massing on the twisted steel girders.
I try to figure out what they’re up to. Maybe they are trying to climb over one another to get a glimpse of us.
“They are using their brains,” Josh says. “I’ve been watching their behavior and they definitely have motivations and memory. Maybe they’re using their host’s brains.”
I have to agree with Doof. They’re after us in a bad way. “And they can talk to each other,” I add. We’ve gone hundreds of miles, and they still know we’re here. I’m on edge, but it’s safe in the boat. Just as we get closer to the dog pile growing on the edge of the drawbridge the pile suddenly swells. The puppets are creating a massive towering structure by clinging to one another. The squirming is unnatural. Body parts are bent back on themselves and some of the puppets scream and gurgle strange noises. I run to the seat behind the pilot wheel and pull up the cushion. There’s my clean and loaded M-16. I flip the safety off.
“What are you doing?” Rice is starting to panic. I don’t have time for her shit. I run to the rail and brace myself with one foot. I pop off a few rounds in the growing tower of bodies. The squirming increases. To my surprise the tower bends over on itself and arches over the channel waters. A massive cluster of bodies crashes onto the boat. Everyone on the deck scatters.
Rice is caught underneath the mass of bodies. Tanis gets hit and is thrown into the port railing. The boat rocks heavily, then hits the opposite side of the canal. Water sprays upward. I stumble and fall. Everyone falls. Puppets that had been waiting on the opposite side, mouths watering, leap from the bridge platform and onto the boat. Ian slams the throttle into full gear and the Pioneer careens down the canal, overloaded with the infected. The bodies untangle like the relaxing of a muscle. They stand and fill the walkways between the cabin and the settee. It’s like they’re lining up for burgers. I guess my shift is about to begin.
I’m guarding Ian, who is white knuckling the steering wheel. Hana and Ben are on the port side of the cabin. Rice is buried, Josh and Tanis are at the bowsprit and Markus is below. He comes up top with weapons in hand.
Hana takes her rake. I take my Beater Stick and hang my rifle on my back. The first ugly fucker gets a jab to the jaw. I can’t kill the things so I knock them overboard.
I smash the kneecaps of a fat puppet and yank its lapel ‘til it flips over the lifeline. Ben screams. I look. Ben and Hana are getting overwhelmed and he’s clutching a wound on his arm. I turn back to my line of puppets and move faster. It’s like flipping cards. One after the other goes off the boat.
I clear my side of the cabin and move to the center of the boat. Rice isn’t dead. She’s screaming like a banshee though. I smash knees and bat off puppets one after the other.
Markus is behind me. He has his baseball bat and is doing a good job keeping them off my right side. Tanis climbs onto the shrouds, which have rope ladders that lead to the top of the masts. He climbs over their heads and starts kicking field goals with their skulls.
“Everyone hold on!” Ian yells.
“Grab something!” I repeat.
I grab the nearest rail. Ian turns the boat starboard and the whole ship rocks. Puppets near the side fly off. Others fall like dominoes only to regain their feet and continue trying to claw us to death.
I reach Rice and pull some hairy, fat guy off her. Her face is split and a piece of her ear is hanging off her head. Her blouse is shredded and she’s covered in worms. Blood oozes from everywhere. I take her hand and pull her from the group on the forward half of the deck. Josh and Tanis have their attention, for now.
Ian orders us to hold on again so he can rock the boat. Some fall away, but not enough. Markus has his back to me. “I’m tired. I might not — ”
I hear Hana scream, which distracts me for a moment. One grabs me. Then another. They’re strong. This isn’t working. I push them away. Markus and I back up into the narrow space between the cabin and the railing.
Our sails are down and bundled on the booms. Blue shit drips in chunks.
I see Josh. He’s fighting with the secondary anchor. Good boy. We connect eyes. I wave him to me. He ducks under the grabbing arms and snarling faces and jumps on the settee. He bashes some puppets off the seat in the middle of the boat and jumps over Rice.
“The Anchor!” I yell. He’s smarter than he looks and I know he’s got a clue about what I want to do. He tosses the anchor over our line of puppets. I catch it and wrap it around the neck of the fucker in front of me. When the thing is secure to the anchor line I toss it overboard. The line goes taut and catches a dozen puppets all the way to the bow. They’re smashed into the lifeline now.
“Ian! Hit the gas!”
“I’m going full speed!”
No matter. It only takes a moment. The anchor catches the bottom of the canal and turns the anchor line and the lifeline into a scissor. The dozen puppets are cut in half. Their top halves fly into the canal and the bottoms crumble to the deck.
“I’m dragging!” Ian yells. He slows the boat. He doesn’t know it’s our anchor.
Markus and I run to the horde and start to fight. Josh tugs on the anchor line and eventually pulls it free. Hana and Ben make progress too. The four of us are now in the middle of the boat, pushing the horde to the front. Josh is overwhelmed and climbs out to the very end of the bowsprit. He hangs on and all the puppets that try to get to him slip and fall to the water.
“Puppet tower!” Ian screams.
I look to the back and see another mass of bodies rising high on the canal edge. The top falls and a dozen more puppets flood the cockpit. The boat rocks and the momentum pushes us to the opposite side where we hit. Ian fights but has to leave the wheel. He runs to us.
I hear snarling. Dogs sprint over the edge of the canal and land on the back.
I steady my breath, though our situation just got a lot worse. The dogs push through the puppets and approach us, barring their teeth, roots hanging out of their eyes.
“Lets get below,” Ian says. The settee has a ladder into the center of the boat. Markus opens the door.
“No. We need to get them off our boat!” I scream. I’m not gonna retreat and leave the topside full of fuckers. We’d be sitting ducks.
I turn to the door and reach inside. There’s a small box hanging on the wall. From the box I pull out several handheld flares. I light mine and toss around the others.
The dogs stop and so do the other puppets. “Got your attention now?” I wave the red fire at them and they back up. Hana, Ben, and Ian clear off the back and get Josh off the bowsprit and Tanis off the rope ladder. Markus and I push all the fuckers to the back where they cower and screech.
The puppets on the edge of the canal stop, too. They’re thinking. I know it. They’re trying to decide how to get us. They’re only getting smarter. One of the dogs bolts to
ward Ian, but Ian jabs the flare into its face. It yelps and backs up toward the others. They crowd the steering wheel.
I advance on the horde. I’m next to the cabin. There’s a port window next to me. I see movement. It’s Andy. He’s coming up top!
Andy swings open the cabin door. He’s staring at the horde and some vicious lookin’ dogs. “What’s going on? Where’s Kat?” he says. I know the kid is looking for Tanis’ dog.
“Get your ass below!” I scream.
The group starts to come at us in a collective bundle. Twenty of them and six dogs of different breeds. They surge. Andy is snatched off the ladder and pulled into the group.
“No!” I scream. I drop the flare and start swinging. A dog leaps and bites into my arm. I fall back and grab its throat. My thumb pushes into its larynx as easily as pushing into mud and I snap its neck. Its jaw slackens but it’s still clawing at me. I throw it overboard.
Andy screams.
The kid!
Andy’s voice vanishes.
“We need more fire!” I yell. The puppets start to move closer, one step at a time. Bastards at the back seem to be protecting their catch.
I look at Ben. “Pants, now!”
“No fucking way!” he argues.
“Pants or I throw you at them!”
“Andy!” Yells Hana. She’s bashing the horde with her rake but it’s doing no good.
Ben slips off his pants. I tie them around my beater and light them on fire. Ian takes the torch and starts to push them back again. The larger fire works, for now. The horde pushes all the way to the helm again.
I see Andy’s body. He’s lying at their feet, silent and still. I feel rage fill me. I want to explode and become the Phoenix. I want to eat them all. I want to fly that kid out of here, to a better place, but I think he’s already gone. He’s free from this world.
6th Horseman, Extremist Edge Series: Part 1 Page 25
