Balestone

by Toby Neighbors

  Todd checked the door of the safe. To his surprise and delight, it swung open on silent hinges. Inside was a small arsenal. Todd and Helen had taken a hunting rifle in one of their first supply runs, but Helen was afraid of guns and the sound of gunshots attracted zombies as much if not more than anything. Still, Todd was alone now. The weapons represented a sense of safety he was desperate for. He selected what looked like a military rifle. It was heavy, but the weight seemed fitting for such an impressive weapon. He searched for a moment then found the magazine release. The weapon was loaded. Todd popped one of the long, brass bullets from the magazine and shined his flashlight on it. It said .223, and a quick search revealed several large canisters of the same kind of ammunition.

  Todd began making a small pile on the floor in the center of the room. He set out all the ammunition he could find and then the gun next to it. Then he went back and found a 9mm and .45 caliber handguns. He tucked one of the guns into his waistband and set the other with the rifle in the middle of the room. He found boxes of ammunition and added them to his haul. Finally, he began filling his mesh bag with the MREs. It took over two hours to carry everything from the Preppers’ home to the rowboat, and Todd guessed he had several hundred pounds of supplies. Still, he hadn’t run into any zombies or any survivalists, so he counted his day a success.

  When he got back to the yacht, he spent another long hour organizing and stowing everything away. He guessed he now had enough food and water for a few months. He was just about to untie the rowboat from the back of the yacht and make his way farther up the coast when he noticed something on the dock.

  A man was standing there, watching his boat through binoculars. Todd felt his heart began to race with fear. He had been pleasantly surprised once he finished stowing the supplies that he hadn’t thought about Helen since he first left the ship that day. He didn’t want to forget her, but he didn’t want to be burdened by his grief over her either. Now, those thoughts disappeared as he raced up the steps to the cockpit and snatched up the long binoculars he kept hanging from the captain’s chair. He looked back at the man standing on the dock. The man’s clothes were frayed and stained from hard use. His hair was long, and he wore a heavy coat despite the heat. The man saw Todd looking back at him and lowered the binoculars.

  Todd didn’t know what to expect, his hands were sweaty and tight on the contoured grip of his binoculars. He had to constantly readjust the binoculars as the ship swayed with the waves, but one thing was certain, the man was pulling something out of his coat. It was flimsy and white. The desperate-looking man held it over his head. It took Todd a long moment to see what it was, but eventually he focused on the word printed on the sign. Help.