It would take us approximately three hours.
Grace told us that we would see the port that they used as their official check-in point, and that we shouldn’t use any other or there would be problems.
I didn’t worry about that, none of us did. There were problems in the Keys already, I knew it and felt it.
We tried radioing them while en route but we didn’t receive any replies.
Westin was certain the infected had come from Key West.
They were coming from somewhere near water. We saw several more in the water as we made our journey.
Infected and deaders floated by, all of them reaching for us as if they had some exceptionally long arms and could snag us from the boat.
With Ben at the helm, Fleck sat nearby armed and ready. Bella went below with the baby, and Katie sat on deck with her tablet, drawing away.
The wind from the ocean felt good. The cool mist masked the heat. I sat on the deck watching Katie, and Lev sat next to me, arm on the railing, staring out.
“Look, Mommy.” Katie held up her drawing. “I drew you and the ocean deader.”
Her drawings were getting better, still a step above stick figures. “That’s wonderful, sweetie, but it was an infected, not a deader.”
“Nila.” Lev turned to me. “Why are you encouraging this?”
“She’s being creative.”
“Have you seen her drawings?”
“Every one of them.”
“They’re all twisted and demented.”
“Lev, they’re all of what she has seen.” I raised my eyebrows. “Do you expect her to draw a happy house with a smiling family?”
“Yes. She’s five.”
“She’s living in a different world.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?” Lev asked. “Wouldn’t you rather shield her?”
“I’d rather do whatever it takes to make sure she stays alive. If she knows reality, she’ll be a survivor. If we color over the truth with flowers and butterflies, she’ll never make it.”
“I understand that.”
“She made a Lev book.”
“A what?”
“A Lev book. She wrote a book about you,” I said.
Lev looked taken aback. “A book about me?”
“Don’t expect a literary novel, she’s five. It’s a picture book.”
“Still. I don’t know what to say.”
“Wait until you see it.” I turned to my daughter. “Katie, did you bring the Lev book?”
Katie looked up. “In my book bag.”
“Why don’t you show Lev,” I said. “I bet he wants to see the Lev Book.”
“He won’t get mad?” she asked then turned to face Lev. “You won’t get mad at me?”
“Why would I get mad?” Lev asked.
“For drawing you without asking,” Katie said.
“That’s fine,” Lev told her. “I am honored you would write a book about me. I would love to see it.”
“Okay.” Katie scooted on her hands and knees, pulling her pink book bag forward and reaching inside. She pulled out a pile of papers, shuffled them into a neat stack and handed them to me.
“Don’t you want to read it to Lev?” I asked.
“You can do it, Mommy, I want to finish my pictures.”
“Okay, baby, thanks.” I moved closer to Lev and showed him the first picture. “This is us. Me, you, Katie, Corbin, Sawyer and Billy all going to Canada.”
“Why am I so big?”
“To her you are.” I moved to the next one. “Oh, look you’re sad in this one. Billy’s gone.”
“Do I want to see the next…”
I switched to the next picture.
“Oh, Nila.”
“This is Corbin, see how sad I am. Look how angry you are.”
“I see.”
“And this is…”
“What is all the red?”
“Blood,” I explained. “That’s you beating up the soldier. And this one…” I switched the picture.
“Is me getting my ass kicked. I can see the big eye I have. What are all these lines underneath?” he asked.
“Words.”
“They’re lines.”
“She’s five. She doesn’t know how to write real words yet.”
“Maybe that’s what we should be focusing on. You know a psychiatrist would have a field day with this…”
I readied to move to the next drawing when I felt the boat slowing down. “Why are we stopping?” Holding the pictures so they wouldn’t blow away, I stood up. I knew we weren’t anywhere near the Keys. “Ben?” I called out and walked toward the front of the boat. “Ben, why are we…”
I didn’t need to finish my sentence. My question was answered. Four boats were floating ahead of us. Two were small and the other two were yachts that were comparable in size to ours.
What made it frightening, though, was two of them, the larger and one of the smaller, had infected onboard. The second they spotted us they rushed the rails. Some even jumped into the water.
The other small one appeared empty, until the infected began to react to us, then a lone infected sat up, and he too jumped into the water.
“You may want to move it,” Fleck shouted.
“I’m on it,” Ben said.
Lev grabbed his weapon and rushed to the side of the boat ready and aiming at the infected as they made their way to us.
“Oh my God,” I heaved out a fearful breath. “They’re swimming.”
One of the infected grabbed ahold of the outer wrung, just as the boat jolted and picked up speed, leaving it in the wake of the boat.
One held on, until Lev shot her and then she released and dropped in the ocean.
I watched the body get further from sight as we moved full speed ahead. “They weren’t sick when they boarded, I bet. They were escaping. I bet they were. All of them on boats, trying to get away and evacuate.”
“From where?”
“Where do you think?”
Lev faced the empty ocean. There was nothing but sea in front of us, but before long we would be at Key West and we know for sure if they were the source of the infected evacuees.
FOURTEEN
THE KEY TO IT ALL
The Florida Keys were made up of many islands but at least we knew which one for sure had shut down all access roads. We were told Key West was the main island, and that a haven camp had been set up on Big Pine as well.
I don’t think it mattered.
Even at a distance we could see a halo of thick dark clouds lingering over the islands. Like something taken out of King Kong, hidden bodies of land.
The closer we drew the more boats we saw. A large ferry was just floating, moving along with the motion of the water. We didn’t have a clue how many people were on board. Or rather, infected.
We kept a distance, looking at the islands through the magnified lens of binoculars.
Fires still smoldered; the docks were strewn with bodies.
They didn’t just have a few infected gone mad, they had an outbreak and the chaos that came with fighting to survive ensued.
We moved as close as we could—keeping a safe distance away, but close enough to see, then after we were satisfied we had our answer, we turned around, heading northwest back to the mainland.
“When I was in New York,” Lev spoke to us as we slowed down to a near drift as we neared port, “people would get sick. Hospitals filled up with those who had the virus. They weren’t bit, they caught the virus, caught it and turned. It was quiet until they started to turn.”
“That’s the way it was in Erie,” Ben said. “That’s when we ran to the boat.”
Fleck nodded. “We never really knew that the actual flu victims were turning. No one did until it got out of control.”
“One or two at a time,” Lev said, “can be controlled, but when you have hundreds upon hundreds getting sick and turning at the same time, it gets out of control.”
Ben stood up and s
tarted pacing. “When the infected became violent, we all forgot the origins of the virus.”
“I don’t even remember,” I said. “And my brother gave me the heads-up long before things went south.”
“Did it stop is the question,” Ben said. “Did the virus die out or was it just buried beneath the infected?”
“Stay inside, stay alive,” I said. “People hid. They fractioned off. Smaller groups were less likely to catch the virus.”
“How many were in Key West?” Lev asked. “Westin said thousands.”
“Fortunately, they’re far enough away,” Ben said. “They won’t make it to the mainland before they decompose enough to not be a danger.”
“More than a dozen already did,” I said. “Those boats will land somewhere.”
“Again,” Ben said, “not before nature wears them down.”
Lev shook his head. “We experimented. Lester lasted a really long time. I think the virus mutated. I don’t know the medical or scientific side of these things, but that makes sense.”
“I don’t either,” I added. “But I know there still has to be a source. If you put a hundred virus-free people in a quarantine, away from everyone and then suddenly they get sick, it has made its way from somewhere. The air, mice—”
“Birds,” Fleck interrupted. “I’m telling you it’s the birds.”
“Or mosquitos,” I added. “I think it’s them, too.”
Ben tilted his head with a wave of his finger. “Could be. I heard Fleck mention birds before. I am starting to wonder if you’re right.”
“What do we do?” I asked. “What now? I mean…is there anywhere even safe to be or go?”
The moment I said that, I heard it. It was faint at first, away in the distance, but enough to cause me to stand. When I did it was louder. I turned my body to the sound and everyone else did as well.
It started as a speck in the sky and grew bigger and louder as it came toward us from the west.
A helicopter.
It grew incredibly loud and it flew low and over our heads, never slowing down, never even acknowledging us.
We all looked at each other in shock. Did it come from Key West? Or somewhere else.
All I knew was the helicopter seemed to be headed in the same direction as we were.
FIFTEEN
FLIGHT OR FIGHT
There was this ridiculous fear in me that the infected, somehow, were flying that helicopter. They had jumped from the boat and swum to get us and so the argument on whether they were motivated by memory, to me, had been solved.
They were. They must be
What was to say they weren’t flying it?
It was ridiculous; the more I thought about it, the more stupid I felt. After all, if there was a helicopter full of infected, surely their inability to control their rage and go after us would have caused them to drop that chopper right by us.
There were a lot of theories tossed out on our boat. Who they were, where they came from, what they wanted. Obviously, not us.
We had to remind ourselves it had been a year since we all, in one way or another, had retreated to solitude and safety. None of us truly had a clue what had happened to the rest of the world.
Every pocket of survivors was isolated, most of them staying informed by a former chief of police in a small Virginia town.
Our first order of business when we got back would be to find Grace and radio Westin to let him know Key West was dead. Not that we knew a hundred percent for sure, but we knew enough that it wasn’t a safe haven.
The threat was back, or rather, according to Lev, forefront again because it had never left.
The question was what our group was going to do next. We needed to find a place that was safe, away from large groups and conducive to long-term survival.
Ben steered the boat back to the dock, anchored then tied it. We made a pact that we would all sit and discuss what our next course of action would be.
The wagon and bike waited for us and we piled in. Katie seemed unphased, napping as if she had taken an afternoon vacation.
It was still early in the day so Grace would still be at the station. I thought we’d try there on the way back to camp. We pulled up to the station, but the door was locked.
“Is she not here?” Lev asked. “It’s only three o’clock.”
“Maybe she had something to do,” Ben suggested.
“Biggest problem in this world right now,” Lev said. “No one has anything to do. Our daily lives are spent either doing nothing or finding things to keep us busy. Grace has one job.” He looked over my way, seeing the look on my face. “What is it, Nila?”
“I’m just worried. What if this outbreak is airborne and it’s just hitting everyone? What if it’s the air we breathe?”
“As a medical professional,” Ben said, “I can assure you that is not the case. The virus was airborne, that was how it spread so quickly, but that doesn’t mean it’s in every molecule that we breathe.”
“So, where’s Grace?” I asked.
“Maybe taking a nap,” Ben said. “It won’t make a difference whether or not we radio Westin today or tomorrow. Let’s just go back and have that talk about options over dinner.”
Reluctantly I agreed. What choice did I have?
We returned to the campsite and settled in. I took Katie into our little cabin to allow her to finish her nap on the couch. Ben had an idea about something he wanted to make for dinner, while Lev and Fleck went to the Meadow Area to inform those down there about what we saw at Key West.
Christian was fussy; he cried constantly and for the first time in a long time I worried about how far his cries carried and if it would put us in danger. The more I thought about it, the more vulnerable I felt. We had no safety measures in place at the campsite.
I sat on the couch with my hand on my daughter’s back, feeling her take her sleeping breaths, when Bella walked in. Christian squirmed in her arms, letting out little whines here and there.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Can you take him?” she asked. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. He just won’t stop fussing.”
I stood up from the couch. “Is he hungry?”
“I already tried. He won’t take a bottle or the applesauce. I’m just tired, I think he senses I’m stressed.”
“Probably.” I brought him up to nose level and sniffed.
“I just changed him, he’s good.”
“He doesn’t feel warm. He might be teething.”
“I just need a break.”
“Absolutely. Stay with Katie? I’ll take this one outside and walk him.”
“Thank you.”
Often I forgot that Bella was still a teenager, and that she took on this monstrous role of being the baby’s mom. It wasn’t an easy task, and we as a group did what we could, but the bottom line was the responsibility rested mainly on Bella.
She handled it well.
I believed she focused on Christian as if he were hers because she had no one else in the world.
“No problem.” I held Christian in one arm, allowing him room to place his head on my shoulder. He brought his legs up quite a bit and whimpered. It was possible he was sick from the traveling.
I hoped that was all it was.
Fortunately, we had Ben. He always downplayed everything.
I stepped outside the cabin and walked back and forth on the porch.
I peeked through the cabin window at Bella who had rested her head back on the sofa. She took on most of the responsibility for Christian and it was a lot on her.
I wanted to stay close and not go too far. I thought maybe walking the baby around the patio with some fresh air would help.
He quieted down and his body drew heavy, telling me he was falling asleep.
I was about my third lap around the patio when I saw Lev emerge from the path. I could tell by his face something wasn’t right.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, approa
ching him.
He looked over his shoulder, moistened his lips and then looked back to me. “We need to get our things together. I’m going to suggest going to Cobb Corner. At least for a little bit. Even then I don’t know if that will help.”
“Lev, what are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“They’re gone.”
“What?”
“The people living down at Meadow Area…gone. All of them. Not there. They took their stuff, packed in a hurry…gone.”
As if in some sort of protection mode, I held the baby tighter. The infected on the beach, the infected on the boats, Key West, the helicopter, Grace not around and now those in the Meadow Area were gone.
Something was going on and I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to stick around to find out what it was.
From the moment we discovered the people in the Meadow Area were missing, we decided we would stick together. No more parting ways to do a run, or to check something out. Every one of us went together. That included heading back into town immediately to the radio station.
We were cautious. Even though we knew we were returning for the night, we packed a few things in the wagon, just in case.
Fleck was able to break into the station through the back door. Grace had used a generator to power the radio but it wasn’t running when we got there. We powered it up and then the station.
A cup of coffee sat on the desk before the radio along with a half-eaten bowl of soup.
Grace was having lunch and never got to finish it.
Something was amiss.
“Here, let me.” Ben took over the radio operator seat. He ran his finger down a list on the wall. “This is the frequency she used to talk to Westin.” He tapped it, then reached for the dial and stopped. “Okay, that was the last call she made out.” He brought the microphone close to his mouth depressing the button. “This is Marco calling out to Cobb Corner, do you read? Over.”
Nothing.
Oh God, I thought, don’t let them be gone as well.
Ben repeated the call.
It seemed bleak until a rush of static came over the airwaves.
“This is Cobb, Westin…” His transmission broke up with static. “Who is this?”
My Dead World 3 Page 8
