by Ryan Colley
Barbara: Fine, just remember, you’ll have to leave eventually. This isn’t going to just blow over. There isn’t a cure. There’s nothing but death. I love you both. You’re like the only family I have left.
Frank: I care for you too, Barbara. Be careful out there.
Shaun: Yeah, be careful. I love you so much … like family.
Barbara: Thanks, guys. If either of you changes your mind, the boat leaves in a couple days. It’s at the docks near me. I won’t say over the broadcast because others could be listening. You both know where I mean, right?
Shaun: I do.
Frank: Sure.
Barbara: Well, I gotta go. I need to pack. Good luck out there, guys.
CHAPTER 30
Awake. Awake at first light.
“Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled myself out of bed. What was the time? I looked around groggily, seeking the small clock on the wall. 4:53 a.m.?! I’d forgotten that anything before 7:00 a.m. even existed.
I stood up, joints popping. It felt amazing. Without the civilised world to direct my life, I woke up when nature dictated. I splashed water on my face to take the grogginess away. Normally I couldn’t start my day without a shower, but there was no point that morning. I would do that when we returned from land after my double dip in the sea. I hated salty water.
I grabbed a bowl of some leftovers, and while walking out onto the deck, eating the cold mess, I noticed three things. Land was close. Cold temperature. The engine wasn’t running. Had we arrived?
I sucked in a breath. The air was crisp and had a wintery feel to it. Getting into the water would be like a punch to my nervous system.
“Goddammit,” I muttered.
“Language, Sam,” someone laughed. I spun around and looked up, seeing Gary leaving the wheelhouse.
“Didn’t see you there,” I laughed, not sure who else it could’ve been. I gestured to the ocean. “Great day for a swim isn’t it.”
“Perfect if you have ice in your veins,” Gary agreed with the same disgust I felt. “Been up long?”
“Not really,” I shrugged. “You?”
“About an hour,” Gary descended the ladder. “Had to prep the boat for our arrival.”
He gestured towards the nearby land.
“That’s it then, is it?” I asked, unimpressed. It wasn’t what I was expecting. A few odd buildings. A few other boats on land, and cars dotted about. It was like a more lived-in version of the boatyard we’d come from. That also meant there could be undead anywhere.
“Yup,” Gary nodded. “The fuel should be in one of those buildings. It would’ve been sold to boaters and whatnot. They’ll have fuel canisters, like a jerry can, in there, too. We can fill those and get them back to the boat.
“And if there isn’t?” I asked, the cold air bringing out my natural pessimism.
“We can syphon it out of the other boats. Don’t worry, Sam, it’ll be fine,” Gary smiled and patted my shoulder. “Guess I better wake Tracey. Get ready for our little swim.”
“Great,” I sighed as Gary went inside, staring angrily at the ocean as though it had personally offended me and my bloodline.
I finished my food and returned to my temporary room. My own preparation consisted of plastic wrapping my phone and Thundy, as well as pocketing Harrington’s bullet. They were my only true belongings, so I certainly wasn’t leaving them behind. I tucked them into my boiler suit pockets, where they were comfortably at home.
Gary returned, pointing the shotgun casually at me.
“Muzzle sweep!” I called, panicking and ducking. He realised his mistake and lifted it so that the killing end was pointing at the ceiling.
“Sorry about that,” his eyes bulged. “Should I bring it with us?”
“Yeah, of course,” I nodded. “I’m bringing the machete. We need to be able to protect ourselves on land.”
“Uh, will it be okay going in the water? Like, rusting up and that,” Gary asked, clearly unsure.
“It’ll be fine in the water as long as we clean it later. It’s mostly just a movie myth,” I smiled. “It’ll be okay.”
“Okay, good,” Gary said as he left.
We were all ready to begin our swim to shore. Gary had pushed the anchor overboard, and we stood at the edge of the boat. I tried to stretch my muscles in the way I’d seen James do. He would’ve laughed at my attempts, and that thought hurt. But I limbered up as best as I could because I knew my muscles would try to seize up the moment I entered the frigid water.
It was still early, and even though the sun was shining, it wouldn’t do much to warm the water. The more my mind lingered on it, the less I wanted to do it. I continued to stare at the water, trying to see past the murky layer and into the depths.
“Worse you’ll find in there is seaweed. Maybe a few fish,” Gary patted my back.
“I hate seaweed,” I sighed. Could this day get any worse?
“You ready?” Gary asked with reluctance.
“Better now than later,” I shrugged and then jumped into the ocean. I made sure to slam my eyes and hold my nose. I didn’t want salty water jetting into my orifices.
The water was horrific. I’m fairly certain my butthole slammed shut in shock. I had jumped in to avoid the horrible sensation of easing my way in, but it didn’t make it any better. The water was so cold that it knocked the air out of me, like a giant hand tightening around my chest. My body burned, and the boiler suit weighed me down. It was so hard to focus on anything except the cold! My chest hurt. I needed to breathe! I kicked my feet and thrashed about, pushing to the surface. I gasped, filling my lungs with the air it so desperately needed.
“How is it?” Tracey called. I could barely open my mouth to answer. Tracey optimistically added, “You’ll soon warm up!”
I didn’t warm up and it didn’t get any better. It was equally horrific the whole time I was in there. I stayed still, just bobbing in the water and gasping for air. My legs and arms were going numb.
“Let’s hurry,” I growled through gritted teeth, something primal taking over as the cold worked its way into my bones. Gary and Tracey jumped. I kicked my feet to keep myself afloat while they went through exactly what I had. Good, at least they knew what it was like.
Once we had all caught our breath and got over the initial chill, we began to move. The cold made it difficult to swim. Hell, it made everything difficult. We couldn’t take big strokes. It was like the cold kept our arms close to our body to preserve heat. But that didn’t matter as much as I would’ve expected. We were actually getting somewhere with our doggy paddle swim.
As if everything was finally aligning to aide us, the icy waves washing up around our faces were also moving us forward. I kept pushing myself more and more, getting further and further ahead. I wanted – no, needed to be out of the water. Gary seemed to be doing the same. Tracey, although making progress, lagged behind.
It was hard to think about the others in the crushingly cold water. My legs were so numb I almost didn’t notice that the material of my boiler suit was catching on stuff below. The water must’ve been getting shallower. Maybe it was seaweed trying to ensnare me. I shivered, not because of the cold, but the thought of the slimy seaweed. This made me wheeze a laugh.
“What?” Gary grunted.
“Nothing. Seaweed,” I laughed again. He smiled. He had caught up with me, and we were almost there.
Although the water was still deep, my clothes still kept catching. An odd tug here and there. Leg brushing up against the seaweed at another point. I just wanted out of the water. I wasn’t far from the land. I’d be there soon.
“My leg is caught!” Tracey shouted.
“Kick it loose. Probably seaweed,” Gary called back, teeth chattering. We continued on.
“It’s getting tighter!” Tracey yelled. Cogs began turning in my brain. Random pieces of information coming together.
“Just really pull your leg!” Gary yelled back.
Seaweed. Fish. Worse to worry a
bout.
“It’s really soft!” Tracey called again, panic growing in her voice. She was reaching down to pull at it.
Seafront. Water’s edge. Deep. What was my brain trying to tell me?
“You can do it, Trace,” Gary laughed.
Noise. Into the water.
“I’m free!” Tracey began swimming again. Something didn’t feel right. I paused, and that’s when something tugged at my leg. Not my leg getting caught. It felt like an actual pull! I looked down again. Something was just on the edge of my mind. It was when the murkiness of the water cleared momentarily, that it became obvious what lurked in the depths below.
“Undead!” I screamed as much as my lungs could manage, and began thrashing my legs to propel and protect myself. What I saw below the surface was dozens upon dozens of bloated, rotting faces. The undead reached towards us, grabbing. I flailed about, every twinge I imagined to be the undead. I didn’t stop to think about anything. Just kicked and pushed to get away.
I wasn’t far from the waterfront. Gary wasn’t far from me. The sheer panic made me uncoordinated. I was taking longer than I needed. I just wanted to keep moving. I refused to be pulled down by the zombies. I kept splashing and trying to move forward until I finally pulled myself up onto the waterfront. I laid there, huffing and coughing out all the water I had swallowed.
Gary had also pulled himself up and out of the water, panting. He dragged himself about ten feet away from the edge before speaking. He was having a lot harder time recovering than I was.
“Where’s Tracey?” he choked out. I pushed myself up and looked out into the water, where I saw Tracey thrashing and shouting. Calling for help. It was impossible to hear with the blood pounding in my ears. Gary was still on all fours, sputtering. Unaware of what was happening. Tracey was stationary. She was panicking so much and spending so much time flailing that she wasn’t able to move
“Over here!” I shouted in an attempt to re-orientate her. If I had stopped to think, I would’ve been aware of attracting any undead. It didn’t help. She continued to go side to side and in circles. Gary had finally taken notice and was staring at her.
Then, in one of the most surreal moments I had ever seen, she stopped flailing. Stopped moving altogether and stared at us. Our eyes locked, and it was like time froze. Then reality came speeding back as Tracey was wrenched below the surface.
“Tracey!” Gary screamed. He pushed himself to his feet and bolted forward, about to jump in after her.
I had a split second to decide, and I chose action. I dived on him, half a step from the water’s edge. He fell to the floor, with me on top of him. He tried to throw me off him and crawl into the water to get to his wife. But I held on.
“Tracey! Tracey!” he kept screaming.
“It’s too late for her!” I shouted. I needed to calm him. I needed him alive. He kept fighting me. I kept repeating myself and held him in place.
“I can still get to her!” Gary wailed, slamming his elbow into my nose. I fell back, blood streaming down my face.
“You’ll just get yourself killed!” I shouted and pulled him back by his foot. He clawed at the concrete. In that moment, I was stronger than he was. His nails ripped off and fingertips bled, but I carried on pulling. He carried on screaming for his wife.
When he was far enough from the water, I dropped my knee onto his back and held him down with all the force I could muster. He just kept calling Tracey’s name and sobbing hysterically. Tears were forming in my eyes, too, but I wiped them away. Grief came later. Survival came first.
CHAPTER 31
I don’t know how long I stood there holding Gary in place while he sobbed, but it felt like eternity. He went through phases of struggling to get to the water and just lying there. Eventually, he lost all fight and went limp. He didn’t even sob anymore.
I eased off him, my knee ached and my head hurt. I just wanted to lie down. Gary didn’t attempt to get up. He just laid there, catatonic. If it wasn’t for the free flow of tears, I would’ve thought he was dead.
I stood there for a little bit longer, before I finally spoke to Gary.
I said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible, “Gary … we need to get going. I know how much you’re hurting, but–”
“No, you don’t,” Gary snapped. He turned to glare at me, with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t know at all!”
He pushed himself up and walked towards me. His height now looked terrifying as he loomed over me, and I began backing up.
“We can deal with this later, but right now we need to go,” I said quietly, suddenly aware of how quiet the rest of the world around us was.
“No, we can deal with it right now,” Gary shouted, and shoved me. He had the shotgun in one hand, held by the barrel. With the rising anger, he probably didn’t even realise.
“Whoa, don’t touch me!” I said, with clenched fists. Heat flushed my face and I gritted my teeth.
“You sit there acting like everything is fine and dandy, talking to that fucking bear!” he screamed. “You don’t give a damn about anyone else, do you?”
He tried to shove me again, but I had stepped back further before he could make contact.
He continued on with his tirade. “I thought about it. I mean, I really thought about it a lot, and you know what? I’m certain I didn’t unplug that freezer. I keep replaying it over and over in my head. It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who wanted us to leave sooner. I shoulda known something was up.”
Gary was approaching me fast, anger replacing all the sadness inside him. And he had had a lot of sadness.
“Gary,” I said, desperately trying to calm him, aware that he still had the shotgun in his hand. “Can we please get into one of those buildings and talk about it. We’re exposed out here.”
“Well, here we bloody are. We left when you wanted, and look where it got us. Tracey is dead. I’m stuck with a manipulative piece of crap. You’re going to pay for this,” he swung at me.
I wish I could say I was fast enough to dodge the punch or even deflect it, but it hit me square on the chin. The impact of my jaw slamming into my pressure points sent a shockwave to my legs, turning them to jelly and causing me to collapse like a ton of bricks.
“You’re scum!” Gary screamed, with all the dignity of an enraged beast. He threw down the shotgun and slammed his boot into my side.
Cracked ribs. He stomped on my already injured leg. Tissue tear.
I tried to push myself up to defend myself, but he was on top of me in a second. He pulled me up by my head and smashed it into the ground. My vision pin-holed. I felt nauseous. He didn’t care. He showered blow after blow onto me. I felt skin break and could taste blood. I couldn’t fight back. Could barely defend myself, but I knew I had to, so I pulled my arms over my head. It didn’t stop him from punching me, but it did stop my brain from hitting the back of my skull with every blow.
Am I going to die here? Probably. I was going to be beaten to death by the very man who had saved me. He was stronger than me, bigger than me. He had the advantage. No amount of planning and careful thinking would get me out of this.
I’m going to die. Why fight it anymore? This is what I deserve. I decided it was time to give up. I began to relax and accept my fate, when the punches suddenly stopped.
I was terrified to look past my arms in case it was a trick, but the weight on me had gone slack as well. Strange. I risked a look through my arms – my eyes had already started swelling – and saw that he was just swaying, eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“Gary?” I said through split lips. Had he broken? Had he finally snapped? Blood started leaking down the top of his head.
“Hit it again!” an unknown voice demanded. I noticed shadows looming behind Gary. Then there was a fleshy thud, and Gary’s body fell sideways.
Standing over me were three men. The sun was behind them, so I couldn’t make out their features.
“He’s pretty messed up,” one of the me
n said.
“Reckon he’ll make it? We don’t want him coming back as a meat-bag,” another said. Then I heard the click of a gun.
“It’s just a beating. It’s only superficial,” the third man said, overruling the others. They started discussing logistics and what to do with me. I didn’t like that – I was right there. I eyed the shotgun, which wasn’t far from where I laid.
“Don’t even think about it,” the apparent leader said, and scooped up the shotgun. I forced out a laugh. I was tiptoeing on the edge of mentally breaking down.
The leader leaned down close to my face and smiled. “You’ll be just fine, won’t you? Plenty of fight in you. Are you able to stand?”
“Yeah,” I slurred through a swollen jaw.
“Good. Get up and we can get going,” the leader held out his hand and pulled me up when I took it. He then turned to the others. “Call back the other guys and we can head back.”
“What about the darky?” the first guy pointed to Gary’s rapidly cooling body.
“Dump him in the water with the others. He’ll be a meat-bag soon,” the leader said.
“No!” I called as they began to lift his body. I wasn’t letting the men who’d killed the man I’d once called a friend – even if he didn’t see me that way in the end – dispose of him like he was nothing.
“We can’t just leave him here,” the leader said. “He’ll be walking soon. We can’t bury him – we don’t know what it’ll do to the soil. Besides, we don’t have time.”
He stopped walking and turned to me. At least he was listening.
“He was my friend. I should be the one who does it,” I mumbled and began walking towards the men carrying Gary.
“It sure didn’t look like you two were friends,” the first guy said, but he was silenced by the leader.
The men dropped Gary’s body to the floor and left him to me. I attempted to lift him, but the weight was too much. After a couple seconds, the leader approached, took Gary’s legs and helped me to carry him, without saying a word. We placed him on the water’s edge, and the leader stood back. I would bury him in the water where Tracey had died. Seemed fitting. At least they would be together again.
