by Lara Frater
A moment later Mike came out from the back already dressed. “What the hell was that?”
“Something fell,” Grace said, her voice nonchalant. “The sail probably.”
Mike walked to the door and looked out. All I could see was white. Once he realized he couldn’t see anything, he started putting on his coat and boots.
“I’m coming with,” Tanya said. “Justin, Jim. Let’s go. The rest of you stay here.”
I didn’t want to go out there but said nothing. Instead I began putting my stuff on.
Mike opened the door and let the icy snowy air in. Olive barked. I tried to get my heart under control.
I tossed my boots on fast when Annemarie came into the room. I knew she had cabin fever, slightly better now since spring was close, but I could see panic in her eyes.
“What happened?”
“Grace thinks something fell. I’m going to go check with Tanya, Justin and Mike. She wants everyone else to wait inside.”
“Okay.” She didn’t look keen to check.
I didn’t want to go outside since I just came in a little while ago and was still cold, but I needed to see the damage. Mike had a flashlight and was moving a beam of light through the dense snow. The wind blew hard. I held on to a lounge chair for balance. Shininess greeted me on the deck but it wasn’t all snow. Some of it was glass.
He shone the light on the sails and to the damage. The forward mast had splintered near the top and dumped two of the rolled up sails onto the bridge smashing it open.
“Fuck,” Mike said, lowly. “God damn it.” Mike almost never cursed. He especially didn’t take the lord’s name in vain. It must have been bad.
I tried to stay calm and upbeat. “We’re anchored, we got supplies for a few weeks. We can use the motor.”
“We can’t sail the boat without the bridge,” Justin said. “If the engine can’t start, we’re stuck here. Not like there’s any way to call for help.”
Mike went up the stairs to the bridge. I could hear the snow and glass crunching under his boot.
“Careful Mike—“
“Maybe we should look at it tomorrow,” I said. I felt the wind and snow hit my naked face and shivered.
Mike didn’t respond. He went in what was left the bridge’s glass housing. Shattered glass was everywhere. I didn’t move, instead illuminated where Mike walked. He moved into the bridge, I heard glass crushing under his feet. He dusted off the captain’s chair, a giant leather monstrosity, went to the control panel and I heard the happiest noise ever, the engine starting. Mike turned the engine off. Moved off the bridge and came to Tanya and me.
“Jim, we’ll need tarps to cover the bridge.”
“There’s some downstairs.”
“What about Aisha?” I asked before I went back into the salon. The tarps were in the downstairs galley.
“We can’t,” Mike explained. “As soon as the weather clears we go to Harbor Island. Now Annemarie is right. Our voyage is over.”
Tanya began shaking her head. “No, I’m not leaving her alone out there.”
“She’s with her mother, she’ll be fine. A few more months won’t matter.” Tanya didn’t respond. “Tanya, if we go to Montauk, and Harbor doesn’t work out, we may not have enough fuel to find a new Island.”
Tanya looked at Mike, then me. Her knitted hat and coat were already covered in snow.
“Then I guess we better hope Harbor is available.”
Chapter 8
Two weeks later, the weather turned consistently warm. After another week, Tanya decided the nice weather was here to stay and we headed to Montauk. I was anxious to get off the ship. I don’t know how we survived without killing each other especially over bathroom time. Our entertainment became Mike and Dena’s nightly rows. I often found her on the enclosed deck during the day no matter how cold it got with plans to sleep there. One time Mike carried her inside, screaming. She got another lecture from Tanya but Dena had cabin fever worse than Annemarie, who barely left her room. We stopped have overnight watches on the bridge. Instead the person stayed in the salon.
I wanted to get away from Eric, which was why I volunteered to lead. I needed a few days of peace from the loudest silent treatment. Eric stopped speaking to me after our argument. He’d go to sleep an hour before me or an hour after. He’d wrapped himself in a blanket and make sure he was facing away. Because he did his work, and didn’t complain, Tanya had no reason to chastise him. I wished she would.
I had let my dad know I might be out of contact for a while. I didn’t tell him the reason but said it was a good thing. I would let the Ohio operator know when we could start talking again.
I got a lot of volunteers to help us search Montauk for the government camp. I turned down Annemarie. I knew she hated being on the boat but she got to go to Orient. I decided on Mike as a shooter, Dave as a driver and Gwen and so I could get to know her. So far they seemed like nice people. Felix said he was a little loco but in a good way. He loved to joke around.
Mike argued with Tanya that this was a fruitless endeavor since we already searched last fall. They agreed on a three day search. Afterwards no matter what happened, we would head to Harbor.
Henry came with us, so he could take the dinghy and the portable starter back the boat. Mike had a flare to fire when we came back. We also had a radio as backup.
Mike pulled the dinghy about five feet on to the beach. Not far was a parking lot with four cars: an SUV, a Honda accord, a mini-van and a Nissan Sentra with a faded Romney/Ryan sticker that had fallen into a sinkhole. The parking lot was filled with holes and large cracks, probably from storms. Thankfully, all were free of bodies and I didn’t want to think about their owners. No signs of zombies so far.
Mike jimmied opened the doors to all three. The SUV and mini-van were completely dead and the Accord had a dim light. The mini-van had the most gas.
“Take the Accord,” Henry said, after looking the cars over. All of them were covered in dirt and grime.
“Isn’t a safer in a big car?”
“A small car uses less gas. Let’s siphon all the gas. The SUV’s undercarriage is rusted. It probably flooded at some point. Start the Accord first. If it’s knocking, the engine’s shit and we’ll take the van.”
Mike opened the hood and connected the starter to the battery. Henry pulled the wires out from under the dash. The first time there was a clicking sound and then the engine turned over. It idled roughly, but didn’t knock.
“Let’s do this real quick,” Henry said. He looked around nervously. I didn’t see any zombs but I was sure they were around.
Mike went to the mini-van. “Jim, get in the driver’s seat, and steer.” I opened the door. Grateful it was empty of bodies. I sat and pushed the dusty seat back.
“Keep your foot on the brake and put it in neutral.” I wanted to tell him I knew how to drive but didn’t. Mike liked being the dad in the family. I wasn’t about to steal that from him.
Dave and Mike stood in the back of the mini-van to push it.
“All right Jim.”
I put my foot on the brake and put the car in neutral.
“I’m taking my foot off now.” I released the brake. I put my hand on the steering wheel, without power steering it was clunky in my hands, but with two people pushing it was easy to maneuver and soon the van was right next to the car. I opened the gas tank. The Accord’s was already opened. Mike put a tube in, did a quick suck. He pulled his mouth away as the gas came out. He stuck the other side into the Accord.
Now we waited. I took in the scenery. In the last year or so nature had taken over. Trees by the road looked unruly while some roots had cracked up the shoulder and even some of the road.
I looked back to the car. Henry was pulling the dinghy back into the water.
“Maybe I should drive,” Gwen suggested. “I know the area.” I knew Mike wasn’t sexist per say but when he was here, he liked to take control.
I was surprised when he said. �
�How well?”
“Worked for a caterer who did all the fancy clubs out here until someone got fresh with me. I complained and got fired.”
“You know where the airport is?”
“Yes, I drove passed it dozens of times.”
“I call shot gun,” Dave said.
“Gwen knows the area. She’ll drive. I’m the shooter so I get the front, you know that Dave.”
Dave mushed up his face and looked peeved but he couldn’t shoot for shit. He looked at me. By now he should to know I’m not going to spread the gay to him. I thought things had changed since when we took that road trip. I decided to take the advice I often give to Tanya, try not to get mad.
“You’ll love hanging out with me in the back, I’ll do your makeup.”
“Ha,” he said and got into the back seat.
We had three places we planned to hit, the airport would be first but we also planned to check out the lighthouse and some of the private estates off the coast. The Montauk airport would be first.
This could all be a needle in the Haystack. The group may have stopped anywhere in between Northport and Montauk.
The road took us to Route 27 which would take us right to the airport. Gwen went slowly because of the road was filled with potholes and fallen trees.
I watched the road. Cam and I went out to the lighthouse a few times but it felt it touristy. I thought of the touristy places in the city, did they survive? Did the Empire State Building still stand? Cam didn’t work far from it. I knew he was dead but would I ever find out for sure?
“Will you look at that?” Dave said.
I looked. A single zombie, emaciated and shrived walked the road. Since the blast I haven’t seen as many and rarely in groups.
Gwen stopped the car right behind it. I think it used to be a man as it still had decaying short hair and a still intact tie which made me laughed. No one else did. Mike grabbed his bat and left the car.
“Hey asshole,” he said behind the zombie. The thing turned around and Mike bashed it good. It didn’t even have a chance to make the death moan.
Mike grabbed his pack and pulled out a wipe. There wasn’t much gore on the bat and he rubbed it off easily. He tossed the wipe to the ground. I didn’t complain. The rules for garbage had changed. Although at least we weren’t manufacturing more garbage we didn’t need, but there was tons of stuff around just decaying.
Three planes sat on the airfield. One looked like the wheels collapsed and two small planes looked like they had crashed. One of them had burned leaving a black ring around the charred remains. Looked like some tried to flee. I wondered if the rich got out in the beginning when money still mattered. It didn’t once society collapsed where you could walk into any bank and take everything.
It didn’t help Grace’s family at the end. She would have probably died in the street if it wasn’t for her gun. It was the only real skill she offered and it was a good one. Even her sailing wasn’t as good as she let on. Abe confided in me, he wanted to get rid of her. He was sick of her attitude and drug problem. It was more of her threat to his leadership. That never happened, three weeks later Abe was dead. Rachel had a more hardline approach, not to Grace but to anyone who complained, telling people they could leave if they had a problem.
The iron fence around the runway had been knocked over so Gwen drove over it. It was a fastest way to get the airport. She pulled into one of the terminals but didn’t turn off the engine.
“One of you, check the door.”
Dave got out and walked over to the door, tried it, came back and talked to me through the window. “Locked. Those are security doors. You can’t pick them.”
“Why don’t we go to the regular entrance,” I said. Dave got back into the car and Gwen made a u-turn then drove back over the fence, and pulled into the terminal. A white limo sat in front. No crazy driver this time, just a decayed body still wearing glasses hanging out the window.
Gwen pulled behind the limo and this time turned off the engine. The doors were closed in the terminal but they were all glass and probably easy to get in even if they were locked. I got out of the car. There was a stink in the air of decay but I faintly smelled burning.
Mike went to the doors and began trying them one at a time. The rest of us helped but all the doors were locked. I began knocking loudly, but no one came.
Mike went back to the car and pulled a crowbar. When he couldn’t jimmy the door open, he tried smashing it.
He slammed it hard against the glass but it didn't break. He hit repeatedly but it didn't break, only became distorted.
No said anything. Mike went back to the car and came back with a small axe. I don’t know what else he carried in his pack. It was a regular school backpack but apparently it had guns, bats, knives, axes and crowbars. I’m glad he was on our side.
“Always be prepared,” he said and wacked it against the glass.
It didn’t break but filled with spider vein cracks.
Mike began hitting the door again until it finally shattered spreading glass pieces all over the floor. He laughed after it happened.
“Guess they don’t make them like they used to.”
I carefully walked over the broken glass, hoping that we didn’t just allow the zombies inside. If needed, it could be boarded up. Zombies didn’t know how to pull out nails.
The airport smelled of decay, but the burning smell was stronger, like something was cooking. A trace of body odor was also in the air. Other people were here.
“Should we call out?” I asked Mike. He didn’t respond. For all we knew the people here weren’t from the camp.
“Hello!” This came from Gwen. Mike gave her a sharp look but Gwen ignored him. I barely knew her but she seemed more optimistic than me. I wanted to be her friend but I worried about the gay issue.
“Is there anyone here? We aren’t here to harm you.”
There was no response. I moved towards the middle of the terminal. The airport wasn’t that large. I saw from far away a barrier or chairs and tables. I looked at Mike, waved and then pointed at it. We walked slowly towards it.
“Hello,” Gwen said.
When I was about six feet away, I heard a shot go off high above my head. The sound startled me and I stopped moving.
“Don’t move!” a male voice said. His voice almost high pitched and panicked.
I raised my hands.
“All of you! Drop your weapons and don’t come any closer.”
I had the handgun but I didn’t drop it, neither did Mike.
“Hi,” I kept my voice calm. “We aren’t here for trouble. We’re looking for people from the government camp in Northport. Do you have any idea where they are?”
“Do you break that door? Did you break that fucking door?”
“There was no other way inside. We’re sorry. If you give us some wood and nails we’ll board it up.”
“Screw you and your nails.” I took a deep breath and looked at Mike. I heard the sound of footsteps, someone else was coming. This might be a good time to exit. We all seemed to have the same idea, as we slowly backed away in unison.
“Okay, listen, if you don’t know where or who they are, we’re just going to leave—“
“Never said, I didn’t know.”
I stopped. “You know where they are?”
“They’re scattered, all over the places, even their fucking ashes.”
“Brian, knock it off,” said another male voice. “They’re fine.” I heard some movement and two men came out. One white man about my height with stubble, the other Hispanic with dark hair and milk chocolate skin. Both wore uniforms but they no longer had names on them. The Hispanic soldier was Manuel Hernandez.
“Manny,” I said.
“Hi Jim, what’s up?”
“Sorry,” Brian said, his voice still sounded frantic but less crazy than before. “When some people come, we have to act like we’re nuts. It scares the bad guys away.”
“Sorry about the do
or,” I said, wondering if it was all an act. “We can fix it if you want.”
“I’ll do it, later,” Manny said. “It was a secondary defense.”
“Manny, we’re looking for Aisha and her family, are they here?”
Manny looked down. I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. He must have seen the look on my face.
“Aisha’s alive and her sister—“ He said quickly. I felt relieved but only for a moment.
“But not Lynne?”
“We had a disease outbreak. It’s a long story, come with me.”
Manny took us to a back office where security would be. Inside there was a bunch of desks. Each desk had a cot next to it. Many of them had privacy screens up. There were maybe 30 people here, down from the 150 people or so they had before. None of them looked healthy. Everyone looked haggard and wore torn clothes. A few of them looked up when we came in, but most ignored us. I didn’t see Aisha anywhere.
Manny took us to the back of the room to a large office and I was surprised to see Felicia. She looked haggard, much thinner than she used to be and her red hair lost its sheen.
“Hello Jim,” she said as if she just saw me yesterday.
“Felicia.”
“It’s good to see you. How is your group?”
“We lost some people. This is Mike and Gwen by the way.”
“We lost a lot of people. Most of them.”
“Manny said you had an outbreak.”
“I thought it was dysentery, we had meds for that but they didn’t work. Turns out it was typhoid. It killed 33 people including Aisha’s mother until we found the source. And that doesn’t count the people we lost before on the way to Montauk. They didn’t mention in the announcement that all the zombies would be out in the street in force.”
I didn’t say anything. I should have pushed Lynne to come with us. I don’t know if we could have kept her alive but she died stupidly of a disease that used to barely exist.
“Where’s Aisha now?”
“She went off with a splinter group. Blamed me for her mother’s death. I do statistics. I could tell you how many obese people drink soda but I’m not an MD.” When I first met Felicia last year, she seemed detached. She reminded me a lot of Rachel. The detachment was still there only stronger. She spoke to me like she was giving a report.
