Overboard: Deconstruction Book Four (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)

by Rashad Freeman

  “This is bullshit,” he gasped as he gulped the bottle dry.

  I grabbed a bottle of my own and roared. We’d screwed ourselves. We should’ve been combing the beach for anything, the moment we ended up here. Now, the storm had swept all of it away.

  “We gotta figure this out,” I grumbled. “We need fire, so we can boil that water we found.”

  Trevor started to laugh.

  “What?”

  “All we need is fire huh? What are we gonna put the water in? What are we gonna store it in? What the fuck are we gonna eat Daniel? I hate to tell you, but that jar of cherries isn’t gonna cut it.”

  I wrinkled my face and glared at him. “Look dipshit, your bitching doesn’t help. I know we need all of that. So, get off your ass and help me find it.”

  “Oh…okay. Let’s just go down to the lost in the middle of fucking nowhere store and go shopping.”

  Squeezing my fist, I slammed my teeth shut and groaned. Trevor was being ridiculous, but he was right. I wished I’d been more into camping and outdoors shit, it would’ve really come in handy.

  “Get up,” I said to him. “Come on. We can’t just sit here.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We’re gonna keep looking. We’re gonna keep looking until we find something.”

  “Shit Daniel! Why? What’s the point?”

  “The point is so we don’t die. Now get off your ass.”

  Trevor rumbled and cursed me under his breath, but eventually scampered to his feet. He gave me an exhausted look and shrugged then held his hands out like, lead the way.

  Waterlogged and hungry, we set out around the beach, following the shoreline toward the far side. The picturesque, sandy landscape faded and was replaced by more and more of the lethal rocks along the fractured bank. The sea barreled into the coast like a runaway train, carving its way through the reef into a frothy white soup. The island was not meant to live on.

  We slowly navigated the rugged terrain as seagulls cawed a bleak harmony overhead. Every step took us further into the unknown and reinforced our somber reality. My heart was heavy and Conner’s death was like an anvil tied to my ankle. I wanted to run from it, but there was no escaping the fear and guilt I felt.

  Maybe the spider killed him. Maybe dragging him through the jungle and up a cliff was what did him in. In the end, all I knew was that I felt like I’d played a part in his death and when it was too quiet, I could hear the clink of regret calling my name.

  “It’s just water…everywhere nothing but water,” Trevor complained.

  “It’s an island Trevor.”

  He shot me a pissy look then climbed onto a rock and scampered across to the other side. I followed him and soon found myself in ankle deep water encircled by a web of finger-like mangrove roots. Trevor had moved further ahead like we were racing to some unknown finish line.

  “I don’t wanna hear it,” he yelled back to me.

  “Hear what?”

  “You told me so or any other shit. You were right okay?”

  Scratching my head, I pushed through the low hanging branches and found him wading deeper into the water. I was about to ask if he’d lost his mind when I noticed the collection of bags and other debris that had washed up into the trees.

  “Wow!” I jolted as I charged into the water.

  The long roots looked like fingers sticking into the beer colored shallows. The trees had reached into the ocean and tangled the floating luggage in their grasp. I wondered how long it’d been hidden back there or if the storm had churned the waters like a washing machine and spit out the cruise ships contents like cannon fodder.

  “Looks like all your happy vibes worked,” Trevor said with a smile. “There’s gotta be something good in all this shit.”

  “Yeah, anything is better than nothing.”

  It took us more than two hours to collect everything and drag it to the shore. In total, we’d found eleven suitcases and a few first aid bags that must’ve come from the life boats. They were stuffed with antibiotics, and bandages, even flashlights.

  After tying all the medical bags together, we started to go through the luggage. I unzipped the first suitcase and started rifling through the contents. It was mostly women’s clothing and a few unisex t-shirts. I emptied it onto the beach then grabbed another bag and tore into it.

  “You hear that?” Trevor asked.

  “Yeah…I thought it was the water at first, but it keeps getting louder.”

  There was a crackling noise underneath the gentle whoosh of the waves. It sounded like newspaper being crumbled into a ball or cooking popcorn.

  “Over there,” Trevor said and pointed toward a cluster of mangroves. “It’s coming from that way.”

  I stood up and together we slowly made our way back into the water. We climbed through the knotted roots and followed the sound around to a little estuary bordered by a cluster of stones and bushes that grew sideways, twisting and intertwining themselves like a Christmas wreath.

  “Whoa!” Trevor said as he froze in his tracks.

  I stopped beside him and my mouth fell into the water. One of the lifeboats was crashed into the trees. The hull was cracked open and it was partially submerged filled with the brackish water.

  The escape panels along the side of the boat had been removed and the CB radio was squawking loudly. In between the static belches a man’s shaky, voice repeated the same message over and over.

  “This is Mark…Mark Stevenson. This message is looped. I’m at the hurricane early warning center in Key West, Florida.” There was a pause and the sound of sniffling. “Is, is there anyone else alive out there? Anyone…if you can hear me, I’m on marine channel twenty-one B. Please…please.”

  CHAPTER 10

  THE BEGINNING OF THE END

  “You sure it said that?” Chase asked as he helped pull McKinsey over a rock.

  “Yeah I’m sure. Now hurry up.”

  I jumped down into the mangroves and starting wading through the murky water. Chase and McKinsey followed me, and Hanson wasn’t far behind. Everyone else was back on the beach, it wasn’t a good time to leave Sherry or Reggie alone.

  “Trevor!” I yelled as we got closer.

  I’d left him back near the boat while I went to get the others. We needed help carrying supplies back and neither of us had a clue how to work the radio.

  “Still here,” Trevor called back to me.

  “So, where’s this boat?” Chase asked with a mouthful of skepticism.

  “Follow me,” Trevor said and started toward the estuary.

  “Is it still going off?” I asked.

  “Yeah, same message. It’s creepy.”

  “What do you think it means?” McKinsey asked lowly.

  “I don’t know.”

  We crossed over the mangroves and into the water. McKinsey gasped as the boat came into view. The radio was still popping with static as the man’s drone of doom crackled repeatedly.

  “Wow,” Hanson grumbled. “Did you try to use it at all.”

  “No genius. We don’t know how,” Trevor snapped. “Isn’t that why you guys are here?”

  Hanson cut his eyes and made his way toward the open cockpit. The man’s voice started the message again and I felt a chill run up my back. I was scared and part of me hoped Hanson couldn’t work the radio, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was going on.

  Chase slowly followed behind Hanson. He stopped short of the boat and leaned against the trunk of one of the trees. The branch bent under his weight as a school of small fish zipped around in the water below.

  “I don’t like this man,” he said. “That message sounds creepy as shit.”

  “I’m scared,” McKinsey added.

  Shrugging, I replied with little conviction. “I’m sure it’s okay.”

  Chase straightened up and turned to face me. He had a nervous look in his eyes and I could see his leg twitching in the water. “But what if it’s not?” he stammered. “Maybe there’
s a reason we haven’t seen a ship or a plane or anything. Maybe something happened.”

  “Can you guys shut up already?” Hanson barked.

  He was in the cockpit of the boat fidgeting with the radio. He turned the dial back and forth before groaning and slumping back into the seat bolster.

  “Knob is busted,” he said in exhaustion. “I need to change the channel if we’re gonna talk with this Mark guy.”

  “Can’t we take the knob off?” Chase asked.

  “With what?”

  “I don’t know. Pull it with your hands.”

  “Dude…you can pull it with your ape hands. I can’t pull this damn thing off.”

  Chase shook his head then splashed through the water and clambered into the boat. Hanson slid over as Chase reached for the control panel.

  “Not that one!” Hanson snapped. “That’s the volume. It’s this one.”

  Chase grumbled and gave him a sideways look. With a huff, he knelt and grabbed the tiny, black knob between his pudgy fingers. Snatching his hand back, his fingers slipped, and he fell onto the floor.

  “That’s your plan?” Trevor asked.

  McKinsey cracked a smile then giggled. Chase ignored them and got back up and tried again with the same result.

  “It’s too slippery to get a good grip. We need something to dry it.”

  Hanson headed into the back of the boat and started rummaging through the cluster of items that were left. He flipped up the seats and tore the cushions off, throwing them outside as we worked his way through.

  “There’s supplies in here guys!” he shouted back.

  “We know idiot. That’s why we came to get help to carry it back,” Trevor replied.

  “Here,” Hanson said and offered Chase a wad of medical gauze. “This should work.”

  Chase took the thick, cotton and wiped all around the console, trying to dry the water off. Then he tried again, but still couldn’t get a grip on the knob.

  “Fuck!” he screamed and threw the gauze into the water outside.

  “Why don’t you just try pushing the knob into it?” I asked.

  “Doing what?”

  “Just push the knob down while you turn it.”

  Chase glared at me and I could see the stupid hidden behind his eyes. I felt like I was speaking a different language.

  “Move over,” I said and climbed into the cockpit.

  I leaned against the control panel as I held the knob, allowing my weight to push it down. At the same time, I turned the dial to the right and it clicked.

  “That’s it!” Hanson shouted. “Keep going.”

  I pushed the knob down and continued twisting it as the digital screen moved into the twenties.

  “Stop!” Hanson shouted and grabbed the handset.

  “Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?”

  He released the transmit button and we all waited in silence. A couple of minutes passed and he tried again.

  "We heard your broadcast. Hello? Please say something!”

  Still nothing. The radio crackled and fizzed, but was devoid of a human voice. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for a response.

  “He’s not there,” Chase said and made an odd face.

  “It’s the range,” Hanson retorted as he dropped the microphone and sulked. “These things max out around fifty miles. We’re probably a few hundred from Key West. I was hoping the guy might have been on a boat or something.”

  He leaned back in the captain’s chair and scratched his face, dragging his fingers through the scruffy beard that seemed to be growing by the minute. His eyes zipped from side to side then he jumped up and grabbed the handset again.

  “Go to the next channel,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “There’s gotta be someone out there listening. We’ll try every damn channel until we find someone.”

  I nodded and pushed the knob down and twisted it again. Hanson bellowed into the handset and we waited. That was the worst part, waiting for a response, hoping someone would say something.

  We repeated the routine over and over as I scrolled through the channels. But every time, it was the same thing.

  “This is pointless,” Trevor finally blurted out. “Let’s just carry the stuff back and get to work on the cave.”

  We had an assortment of clothes we’d looted from the suitcases. Food rations, water and supply kits we’d found in the boat. It was the most luck we’d had the entire time we’d been on the island.

  I glanced back at Trevor then turned the knob again and the plastic cover snapped off along with the plastic piece underneath.

  “Oops.”

  “Shit! It’s stuck now,” Hanson griped.

  “Well, I said we should leave anyway so that settles it,” Trevor said with a grin.

  Hanson shot me a look and Chase grumbled something under his breath. I shrugged and held my hands out like, I’m sorry.

  I stepped out of the cockpit and back into the water. Hanson grabbed the handset and started pleading in desperation.

  “Hello? Please, is there anybody out there?”

  Static was his reply.

  “If we leave now we can make it back to the beach before it gets dark,” Trevor called out. “Come on.”

  Chase grabbed McKinsey’s hand and they started back towards the shore. I glanced at Hanson and waved my hand for him to follow. Reluctantly he climbed out of the boat and started wading through the water.

  I looked up to the sky as the sun began to fade. A deep amber glow radiated above the tree line, turning the clouds to streaks of fire. The night was calling and the jungle behind us awoke in a flurry of sounds. Trevor was right, we needed to get back before the sun went down.

  Soaking wet, I crawled up the bank and took a seat in the sand. Grunting, I pulled my knees to my chest. I was exhausted and was dreading the long walk back, but when we did return I knew things needed to change.

  Who knew how long we were going to be on our own. Who knew if we’d ever get rescued. What I did know is that the way we’d been going would only lead to more death. We’d barely found shelter and were still in need of food and water. If things didn’t change soon, we wouldn’t be alive for a rescue.

  “Get up lazy ass!” Trevor shouted. “We need to get this stuff back home.”

  He was further up the beach, picking through the bags. We’d scavenged what we could from the boat and Trevor had taken the liberty of rummaging through the luggage like he was at a yard sale.

  “Hello…hello, are you still out there?” a raspy voice screeched.

  I sat up and turned my head toward the water. Hanson was already racing back through mangroves toward the boat. I scrambled to my feet and hurried after him.

  “Hello? I’m here,” Hanson replied as he dove inside.

  “Thank God! I thought I -- alone. What’s --- name? Where are you? Is -- safe?”

  The guy was rattling off questions a mile a minute. His frantic voice was cutting in and out and it was hard to understand him over the deep, barking cough that accompanied each word he said.

  “Safe?” Hanson asked in confusion. “What do you mean safe?”

  I climbed into the cockpit and stepped beside Hanson. “What are you doing? Stop having a fucking chat and tell him we need help!”

  I snatched the handset from him and pushed the button to talk. “Hello…hello?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Hanson asked as he shoved me and yanked the handset back. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Everybody’s dead!” the man said, his words blaring through the speaker like daggers. “Everywhere --- dead people. I haven’t -------- in days. Have you ---” the radio cut out with a beeping noise then static.

  “Hello? Hello?” Hanson barked. Dropping the handset, he lowered his head and wiped his face with his hands. “He’s gone.”

  CHAPTER 11

  THERE ARE NO KINGS IN A DEMOCRACY

  “What makes you in charge?” Antonio a
sked angrily.

  We were all sitting around the mouth of the cave. A fire burned in between us, bordered by a circle of small rocks we’d arranged. The golden flames crackled over the thick palm tree husks and I stared into the ambers, searching for a way to proceed.

  It was a difficult conversation, but there wouldn’t be a better time to have it. We were safe, and everyone had just eaten and had their fill of water. Concerns like safety and where our next meal would come from needed to be addressed, but it seemed like I was the only one that cared.

  I took a deep breath and lifted my head until my eyes leveled on Antonio. “I never said I was in charge or that I wanted to be. But somebody needs to organize this,” I replied.

  “And that’s gonna be you huh?”

  “No, it can be anyone. You can do it if you want.”

  “What do I care who does what?”

  “Antonio you’re a fucking idiot!” Trevor shouted. “If you don’t have any ideas of your own shut up and let him finish.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Fuck you, you egg headed idiot!”

  “Enough guys!” Amber suddenly shouted. “I swear all you guys do is argue and bitch. You act like fucking girls”

  Trevor and Antonio both paused and stared at Amber. Frowning they glanced at each other then stared at the ground.

  “What were you saying Daniel?” Amber asked.

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “Thanks,” I mouthed the words to her then turned to face the rest of the group. “All I’m saying is we need to assign jobs. There’s things we need, like more fire wood and food and water.”

  “So, what’s your plan for that?” Chase asked.

  I shrugged. “I really don’t know. Does anyone want to do anything in particular?”

  Everyone looked at one another with the same blank face. I’m sure they were fine doing nothing, sitting on their asses waiting on a rescue that would probably never come. I’d given up that fantasy. We needed to survive on our own and as each day passed, I became convinced that if we were going to make it off that island, we’d have to do it ourselves.