The Boat

by Christine Dougherty

  “Talk to him?” John asked, cutting Sami off. “Who has to talk to him?”

  “No one has to talk to him, I just meant…when you talk to him, in general terms…he is very kind. Very thoughtful and insightful. I am sure that he is…was…good at his profession.”

  John stared at Sami for so long that Sami became more and more uncomfortable. It was very rude, Sami thought, for someone to stare so forthrightly and without comment. What was wrong with this man? Candy was right. This John Smith was no shaken survivor with post-traumatic stress disorder as the rest of them seemed to be. In fact, this John Smith actually seemed very acclimated to this new world.

  John Smith stood in one fluid motion and turned onto the bridge–the only way to get off the upper bridge deck. He didn’t say goodbye.

  Sami took a deep breath, aware only now that he must have been holding it. He looked out to where Adam and Carl had been, but now they were gone, too. Sami took another deep breath. He would go and find Candy. That always made him feel better. She was his touchstone in all things.

  He stood to leave but as he did, Adam came onto the deck with Carl.

  Carl nodded and came forward, grasping both of Sami’s hands in his. “Dr. Rafiq. How are you? You look well.” His smile was small but very warm. Sami had the impression that under normal circumstances, Carl was most likely a very jovial person.

  “Dr. Faifield,” Sami said. “I am well. I hope you are, also.”

  “Just Carl, please, Dr. Rafiq,” Carl said, the smile widening. “And I’m good. Doing real well.”

  “Sami,” Adam said, irritation evident in his voice. “Carl wanted to talk to John…wasn’t he just up here?”

  “He left right before you came up,” Sami said, and in a flash it came to him that that was why John had left…to avoid Carl. But why?

  ~ ~ ~

  “I think you should move into this room with me. Why do we care who knows of our relationship? There is no one here to disapprove.”

  Candy sat in the small chair near the bed, putting her shoes on in preparation for the trek back to her own shared room behind the engines…formerly the crew quarters. It was late afternoon, but people went to bed early, now, setting with the sun to conserve resources.

  She looked up.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sami,” she said.

  When they had met, their bond was immediate and strong. But Sami’s family was conservative, and he was less than a year away from his arranged marriage. There was no way for him to pursue a relationship with Candy.

  Candy’s family…the ones she still associated with, the less rabid ones…would never accept an Indian into the family. Candy knew that as well as she knew her name.

  But their feelings were undeniable, so, they became each other’s secret. The relationship was only five months old when everything happened. It had been five months of hyper-sexualized excitement, tinged by Sami’s dissolving obsession with the Lazarus project. For Candy, the drug trials had become a moot point–her brother had lost his years long fight only weeks after she and Sami met in Philadelphia.

  Neither of them contemplated a future for themselves, for being together, and sometimes Candy wondered if that was one of the things that stopped them from being more diligent about contacting the Lazarus doctors. Everything had seemed in a state of suspended animation. Days passed without acknowledgement. They couldn’t see a future for themselves, so they simply didn’t look in that direction.

  She wondered how much that has contributed to Sami’s guilt.

  “Why is it not a good idea?” Sami asked, swinging out of the bed. Some instinct of self-preservation seemed to demand that he not be naked for the conversation to come. He slipped into his underwear.

  Candy shrugged. “It just…it will make us vulnerable. Do you see that?”

  “No. It will make us stronger.”

  You maybe, Candy thought. Not me. She lowered her head into her hands.

  “Candy,” Sami said, “I am not as fragile as you think I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re fragile, Sami, I just think it makes us both more…if everyone knew we were together, then they could…use it against us somehow. I don’t know. I don’t know why I feel that way. I just do.”

  “It will not make us vulnerable, it will make us stronger. We love each other, don’t we? That can only be a good thing. People will be happy for us.”

  Candy was astonished at his naiveté. But maybe she was just too jaded, too harsh?

  She shrugged again.

  Sami drew her shoes from her feet, placing them side-by-side next to the chair. He took her hands and pulled her gently to standing and relieved her of the rest of her clothing. Then he guided her to the bed.

  “We will stay together from now on.” He curled himself around her, drawing the light sheet over their shoulders. “We will have this one happiness. There is no reason for us to be separated. Not anymore.”

  Candy shivered at his words. She knew that to ask for the good is to invite the bad.

  There are always two shoes, after all.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Why did he want to talk to me? Is he the one in charge?” John put an extra dose of innocence into his voice. He and Adam were on the bridge deck, overlooking the activities below them on the main deck. The sun was sinking into the scrubby pines at the shoreline.

  Adam’s face soured. “That guy? Jesus Christ, no. No way. I guess if you had to say anyone was in charge of Big Daddy, then it would be Steve, but even Steve is more or less a manager. Under me.” He clapped John on the shoulder. He was able to do that because John had positioned himself on the deck, cross-legged, next to Adam’s chair. “He doesn’t need to talk to you. He can go fuck himself.” Adam ruminated. His hand rested on John’s shoulder.

  John felt the weight of Adam’s hand, the disgusting, meaty heat coming from it, and he contemplated turning his head enough to bite it. He could practically feel the bone in Adam’s pinky finger breaking under his teeth, the hot blood slicking his chin. Just like the undead did. Man, that was fan-fucking-tastic to watch when they attacked someone. Better than Discovery Channel even.

  But he controlled himself. He would bide his time. He had a good trick up his sleeve. Better even than the last time. A very interesting trick. He just had to work out the logistics.

  “Carl isn’t anyone,” Adam said. “You know what? Fuck that guy for coming over here demanding this and demanding that.”

  “Do you think…” John put a twinge of embarrassed consternation into his voice this time. An ‘aw shucks, could it be?’ tone. “Do you think they might be jealous of me?”

  “Jealous of you? Why?”

  John shifted, drawing himself millimeters closer to Adam’s chair.

  “Because you’ve kind of…taken me in? Maybe they’re jealous that I get to hang out with you? They’ve all been here longer than me.”

  A swell of hot pride suffused Adam’s face with blood. He really liked this guy. He gets me, Adam thought.

  “Before…before all this.” Now John’s voice broke with emotion. “I was just a blue collar guy, you know? Just doing my thing every day, punching the clock. The other guys, they all hated management…really resented them, you know? They thought that they were all sit-on-their-ass-pussies while we did all the hard work.” John shook his head. “But I get it, now. This…” He gestured to the crowd below them. “This is the hard part…the decision making. The responsibility.” He turned to look at Adam, his chin tilted up in a posture of worship. “Their fates are in your hands. And they’re all too dumb to know it.”

  Adam’s stomach tightened. His throat ached with tears. Yes, he thought to himself. That’s just right. Their fates are in my hands. He had no inkling that John Smith’s last two sentences were really John talking to himself.

  “You know something?” Adam said, squeezing John’s shoulder. “I think they’re getting a little too big for their britches over there on Big Daddy and ThreeBees.” />
  “Maybe you should bring them all aboard Flyboy. Where you can keep a closer eye on them. They’d think twice about crossing you, then.”

  Conflicting ideas ran through Adam’s mind. It would be good to scoop everyone up and bring them to Flyboy where he could keep a tighter rein, but at the same time–

  His mind shied away from a difficult idea and settled on a more comfortable one: the resources. It was better to have the resources spread across the three ships. The idea made no rational sense, but it was an easier reason than the first one that had actually occurred to him…if Steve were on Flyboy, then somehow, he’d take over as its leader. People just flocked to the guy. It was unfair, but it was the way things had always been. Fortune favored the assholes.

  He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe. I’ll have to give it some thought.” Adam didn’t see the look of annoyance that flashed through John’s eyes.

  Sami appeared at the doorway to the bridge. He’d left Candy sleeping in his…their…room.

  “Adam,” Sami said, glancing nervously at John Smith. It bothered him, the penitent’s position John had taken, sitting practically at Adam’s feet, his head lowered. “I wanted to speak to you. If you have a moment.”

  Without turning, Adam raised a hand and flicked his fingers in a ‘come’ gesture. Sami looked around for another deck chair, but they have been moved. Intentionally? It’s a small deck, but still big enough for a handful of people to sit comfortably.

  “Have a seat!” Adam said and gestured to the floor before him. “Sorry about the lack of chairs. I had John take them all below…so that everyone had a chance to use them down on the lower decks. I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to keep all the good stuff for myself, right?”

  “No, of course not,” Sami said. “I am content to stand. It is no problem.”

  Adam nodded in an exaggerated way.

  “What did you want to talk about, Sami?” Adam asked. He found himself feeling annoyed with his friend, he wasn’t sure why. It was certainly irritating to have to stare up at him while he stood there like a…like a…like he was the boss or something.

  “I thought we could perhaps speak in private,” Sami said, careful to keep a deferential tone. Adam heard it as dismissive.

  His hand strayed to John’s shoulder. “John can stay.”

  John’s head came up, the bandage over his split forehead shining whitely in the gloom. He smiled at Adam and the smile conveyed gratitude; maybe love, too. Sami felt a sharp twist of jealousy, irritation, and fear. His relationship with Adam had become complicated. Adam knew a lot about Sami, more than Sami would want anyone else to know. What if they ended up hating him for what he’d done. Hadn’t done.

  Then he remembered his most important relationship, and that buoyed him.

  “I am going to have Candy stay in my room with me. She is…we are…we’re a couple. We’re together.” Sami braced himself, raising his head and standing straighter.

  Adam read it as arrogance. Blatant disregard for his opinion. His decisions.

  “Well, congratulations, man. Lucky you. Candy is hot, man, a hot little mama…maybe we should all have some candy, huh?” Adam’s gaze held a challenge that Sami couldn’t face…he dropped his eyes. “Hey, I’m just kidding. That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  Sami smiled, relieved but still uncertain.

  “She’s down in the crew quarters, right?” Adam had an exaggerated ‘trying to recall’ look on his face. Sami nodded and unease snaked delicately into his stomach. “Well, it’s gonna be tight for you guys down there, but I’m sure you can work something out, right?” Adam’s grin stretched across his face like a cold meat zipper.

  Sami opened his mouth to protest but Adam stood abruptly, cutting him off. “John, come with me, would you?”

  John stood quickly, but then staggered, his hand going to his head.

  Adam reached out to steady him and John gave Adam another look of grateful love. “Sorry, I guess I’m…still a little shaky. My head, you know?”

  “I’m going to put you in Sami’s old room. He won’t need it and I’m sure you could use the space to recover. You don’t mind, do you, Sami? Now that you have Candy to bunk with.”

  Adam helped John out and Sami stood for a second, shocked, then hurried after them.

  They got to Sami’s room and Adam went in without knocking. Sami squeaked out a protest, but it was too late–Adam and John were in the room.

  Sami closed his eyes and leaned against the wall in the tight corridor, waiting for Candy’s scream of outrage. But nothing came. He heard the whump as a body fell into the bed. Still nothing.

  Sami put his head in the room. John was on the bed and Adam stood over him, his expression almost parental.

  No Candy. Sami was confused. When he’d left her fifteen minutes before, she’d been sound asleep.

  “Ssst.”

  Sami jumped, startled, and looked at Adam in confusion, but Adam hadn’t made the noise.

  “Ssssst!”

  It was coming from back the way they’d just come, down the corridor. Candy. It had to be.

  Sami and Adam exited the room, Adam heading further down the corridor to the last room, his…the biggest below-deck stateroom. Sami hurried back down the corridor in the other direction.

  Candy was at the juncture where you could go up to the bridge, down to the crew’s quarters, or into the galley and from there into the salon. She smiled at him.

  Sami didn’t know what to say. He was ashamed of himself and also confused as to her actions…her foresight.

  “We’re out, right?” she asked.

  Sami nodded, his face clouding but she smiled wider. “Why are you smiling? Now we won’t know where to go to be together. Candy, all the rooms are full.”

  “I’m smiling because you’ve been kicked to the curb, Sami! I’m so happy!”

  She threw her arms around him. He didn’t understand, not yet, but he would. He would see that it was better to be on your own and to fend for yourself. No amount of favor made up for allowing yourself to be treated like an unloved dog.

  She took his hand. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can get worked out.”

  On their way through the galley, they came across Carl sitting by himself. He had a gas lantern lit on the table in front of him and he was making notes in a tiny notebook. He glanced up as they entered. In a wink he had assessed their held hands and expressions.

  “You guys going out?”

  Candy laughed and Sami blushed.

  “Hi, Carl, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Candy said and squeezed Sami’s hand. “Why are you here so late? Shouldn’t you be headed back to Big Daddy?”

  “Yeah, I should have been, but I got carried away with my note-taking. I’m leaving in a few minutes.” He stretched, his hands at his lower back, then he rummaged through his beard, scratching reflexively. “What are you guys up to? Heading to bed?”

  Candy shook her head. “We haven’t actually worked that out yet. My old room already had four in it and Sami’s room just got…taken over.” Carl noticed the hesitation, but let it pass. He was worn out and too tired to look for problems when there were enough obvious ones so readily available.

  “You should go to ThreeBees. They have room over there,” Carl said. He stowed his notebook in an inside pocket of his light vest.

  “You think they’d have us?” Candy asked.

  “Sure. More the merrier. I guess you heard they’ve had a good deal of trouble over there in the last couple’a days.” Then he remembered Jade. And he remembered that it was…not a secret, exactly…but certainly private. But Sami and Candy struck him as good people, really good. He liked Candy, especially. In his professional opinion, she was very healthy. He glanced around the galley, making sure there was no one to overhear. “You might want to wait a few days, though…”

  He told them about Singer being bit and getting the sickness and that now they thought Jade might have it, too
, and that they were watching, waiting.

  None of them saw the shadow that lurked in the back doorway.

  John Smith listened to every word Carl said.

  Chapter Ten

  Steve watched as a jet ski whined its way from Flyboy to Big Daddy. It was late for someone to be out, but the moon was bright enough to navigate by. It was probably Carl. Steve wondered if he’d come up with anything on that John Smith guy.

  He settled back in the chair, the gun across his lap. He was getting tired. He’d have to get Brian up soon to spell him. But he didn’t entirely trust that Brian would stay awake. That kid was almost as close to catatonic as Jade had been.

  When they’d told him what had happened to Singer and why they’d had to put Jade back out on the boat, he had nodded in a resolute, almost unconcerned way. He’d sat with them for an hour but didn’t speak, other than to say he thought he needed a little more sleep before stumbling back into the salon.

  Steve wonders how long it will be, if ever, before anyone feels ‘normal’. As long as you kept your head down and slogged through minute by minute, it seemed you could go on forever in this half-alive way. It was when you were brought up short by strong emotion–anger, fear, joy–that you had trouble reconciling the world as it is now.

  Distantly, a dog barked. Steve reached down and grabbed binoculars. They have seen dogs at the shoreline on a few occasions, but once a dog starts barking…it didn’t usually end well for it.

  He scanned the beach, left to right, looking for movement and then saw it–a big dog, lab or something like it, racing across the beach. It stopped and turned, barking, then turned again to flee. Five of the dead are following; an entire contingent can’t be far behind.

  He wished they could do something to save the dog. Dogs were good animals to have, good companions, happy and uncomplicated. A dog in the post-apocalyptic world would be pretty much the same as a dog pre-apocalypse. Unless it had gone feral.

  He lost sight of the running lab when it dodged inland and bolted for the woods. He lowered the binoculars.