by Jay Brenham
“I think anyone would try to find their family.”
Matt gave a short, humorless laugh. “That’s the thing. Everyone says that, but this place is full of people who aren’t willing to risk losing the comfort of Raft City to find their loved ones.”
“What about you? Any family?”
Matt looked away. “I have some extended family but they’re in the Midwest. I had a sister. Right now, Jenna and the baby are the only real family I have.”
“Sorry,” Sam said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. We barely know each other.”
“No, it’s okay. You told me all about yourself. My sister was killed in a car accident when she was sixteen and I was nineteen. She was coming home from a date. They went to the movies, Leonardo Dicaprio, she was boy crazy about him,” Matt smiled a little before continuing. “My parents had us late in life. I think my sister’s death killed them too. They never seemed happy again. Afterward, they’d laugh and smile sometimes, but something was always missing. Mom died of cancer a few years ago and my dad went a month later.” He smiled again. “I’m sure they’re up there waiting for me but they’re going to have to wait a little longer.”
Sam smiled at that last part, just like he had at Matt’s enthusiasm for the Carver. He liked Matt already.
“I won’t tell you that I volunteered to host you for solely altruistic reasons. I’m one man trying to take care of Jenna and the baby.” He paused, as if a thought had just struck him. “We aren’t together, if you were wondering. We just helped each other escape. Took the baby from the maternity ward. A second pair of hands on the boat would be a big help.”
“I’m glad to help with anything,” Sam said.
“That’s good, because Quinn and I have talked pretty extensively about the need for gathering more supplies, which everybody else seems reluctant to do.”
“With good reason,” Sam said.
“That’s true, but we’re going to have to start foraging. There are ways to find things that are less risky than others. We don’t have to go into a major city center. You can stand watch and help us plan missions to gather food and find water. I know you plan on leaving eventually, but we can help each other while you’re here.”
Sam nodded again. Matt was good: a natural politician, but not in a bad way. In an open, earnest way that made it seem as if they would both benefit from the arrangement.
The Carver was on the outermost circle of Raft City. Sam had taken that to mean Matt was new here, but the way Matt and Quinn had interacted had been easy, familiar.
“How long have you been here?” Sam asked.
“Jenna and I were the first to arrive after the original four.”
“So why are you on the outermost ring of the circle? Shouldn’t you be safely protected on the inside?”
Matt didn’t respond directly. “I’ve read a few books about survival. It seems that when someone survives a situation it can be a real roll of the dice. Sometimes a person goes with the crowd and they live, other times it’s that exact thing—going with the crowd—that gets them killed. Around here people think they’re safer the closer they are to the center of the circle, but what if being on the outside is what’s safer?”
“How is having less protection safe?”
“If a fire breaks out or the infected somehow get here, all I have to do is release the lines.” He flicked his fingers at the boats on either side of him. “I’m floating free. Every boat on the inside is trapped until the boats outside of them move. I don’t like depending on other people when it comes to life or death.”
Matt turned and went below deck into the small galley and pulled the top off of a cook pan Jenna was tending, tilting it toward Sam so he could see crispy pieces of flounder, ready to eat. It was hard not to be thankful for meals like this. It might be the end of the world but Sam hadn’t missed a meal yet.
#
Something was shaking him but Sam stayed fast asleep. A bell rang in the distance but he worked the sound into his dream. It wasn’t until he heard the baby crying that Sam sat up. Was Grant crying? Was Jill awake with him?
Only when he opened his eyes and saw Matt, did he realize that his family was nowhere close.
“We’ve got a boat coming in. Throw on some clothes, grab your gun, and meet me on deck,” Matt said.
So that’s what the bell was. He had heard the ringing when the craft had pulled up to Raft City the day before; it must be the alert system Raft City used. Sam looked to the left and saw that Jenna was walking up the ladder with the baby, following closely behind Matt.
Sam wondered what time it was. He glanced outside and saw daylight streaming in. How long had he slept? He was stiff from sleeping on the little sliver of a couch Matt had told him was his bed. Not that Matt’s situation was any better. Matt’s bed, if it could be called that, was just a few feet away and identical to his own. Jenna had the only real bed on the boat. She had called it the V-berth. The V-berth was the small room at the bow of the boat but she shared it with the baby, who still hadn’t learned to sleep through the night. He would have thought sleep would be fleeting, given the conditions, but the baby slept like a rock.
The chamber to his shotgun was empty but the tube was full thanks to Robinson. As he came outside, the bright sun made him squint and he wished he had sunglasses.
Matt was on deck watching the approaching boat, his AR-15 in his left hand. He pointed with his free hand. “The bell rings when a boat approaches. A person from each boat is supposed to be on the deck when they hear it,” Matt said.
“Supposed to?” Sam echoed.
“It’s been so hot people are usually on deck already so it isn’t a problem. But we don’t have any way of enforcing the rule. More people come out than don’t, but there are some who just stay inside.”
“Why do you want people to be on deck?”
Jenna cleared her throat, her blonde hair blew in the breeze as the baby snuggled in close to her nursing scrubs. “It’s a safety thing. It makes people aware of what’s happening. What if this boat won’t adhere to the quarantine? What if they have infected on board?”
Matt nodded in agreement.
In the distance they could see someone rowing out to the sailboat from Options. That’s when Sam noticed how few people in Raft City were actually armed. Maybe one in ten boats had a weapon, and that was only counting the boats that had responded to the bell.
“If that boat wants to be part of Raft City, they’re going to have to anchor until tomorrow at this time.”
They watched a woman from Raft City talking to the captain of the new boat from the dinghy. She gestured back to Options and a few moments later the bell rang out.
“The second ring means we can stand down,” Jenna informed him.
Matt glanced at Jenna. “I was gonna show Sam around. Familiarize him with what we do here, unless you wanted to give him the Raft City tour?”
“That’s okay. You can be the tour guide. Bristol is a little fussy and I think she wants to eat something.” Matt and Jenna had named the baby Bristol after the boat that saved them.
At the mention of food, Sam’s stomach growled. On cue, Matt reached down into the berthing of the Carver and tossed Sam a sports bar and a plastic canteen full of water.
“It’s a little melted,” he said with an apologetic shrug, “but it’s still good. I found a bunch of them in the cabinet.”
Sam opened the wrapper and took a bite: oatmeal raisin.
“I know the flavor isn’t the best but it’s what we have,” Matt said.
Sam shrugged, indifferent to the food that he was putting in his body. “I don’t even think about it. It’s just fuel and I’m glad to have it,” he said.
“That’s a good way to think about it.”
They began walking along the outside ring of Raft City. Matt waved to everyone and introduced Sam to most people they passed. Sam met more people than he could hope to remember. The boat decks appeared to be a thruway for traff
ic. People walked freely across the decks carrying seafood, supplies, or weapons.
“Where is everyone bringing all of this stuff?” Sam asked.
“Either to or from the market.”
Sam stopped on the deck of a smaller sailboat that was about twenty-five feet long. A man with a short brown beard and a woman who appeared to be his wife or girlfriend sat on the back with two fishing rods. A bottle of wine sat between them. The bottle didn’t have a label and Sam silently wondered if they had made it themselves. Matt nodded to the man and the man nodded back. The woman was busy reeling something in as the man stood by with a dip net.
“The market?” Sam asked, stepping to the next deck.
“You’ll see. It was a head boat. One of those boats where you can pay to get a spot to throw a fishing line over. It has the most deck space of any boat out here.”
They resumed their walk and talked until they reached the market. The boat had two levels. The top was exposed to the sun but most of the first level was covered and shaded. People were trading different wares: guns, knives, and even a set of nunchuks. Sam couldn’t imagine those would be very effective against the infected.
Matt greeted a smaller Hispanic man. “Rodrigo, I want you to meet Sam. He just arrived yesterday and he’s going to be staying with me and Jenna.”
Sam and Rodrigo shook hands.
“What do you have today?” Matt asked.
Rodrigo reached behind him and pulled a line up from the water that held a few fish strung through the gills. “It’s getting worse,” he said. “Every day it seems like I catch less and less.”
“We’re having some of the same trouble,” Matt said. “Jenna and I don’t want to dip into the canned goods we found on the Carver if we can help it.”
A man to their left with wares of his own spoke up, “I wouldn’t worry about it, fellas. They’ll save us soon.”
The man had put quotes in the air with his hands when he said the word, “they’ll,” though it wasn’t clear to Sam what or who he meant by that.
Matt nudged Sam. “What Evan is saying is that some people think the army will roll through here and save us all. But the three of us believe we could be in this for the long haul.”
A woman to their right spoke up. “That’s because the government will save us. We’ve never lost a war and from what I’ve heard, the infected don’t even have guns. The military can handle this just fine.” Her voice was thick with intellectual superiority.
Sam’s forehead wrinkled in disbelief. Perhaps this woman hadn’t heard about the War of 1812, or maybe she was referring to recent history. “Have you seen the infected? Experienced what they’re capable of?”
“No, but I heard about what it’s like out there. I don’t think there’s anything to be afraid of.”
“Then why has the world as we know it been destroyed? We are what’s left. I came from Norfolk. I fought my way out and there’s nothing but infected left. No order. No criminals, no cops, no rich, and no poor. It’s all gone.”
“I hardly think the police can be compared to the military,” she scoffed. “The military will be able to walk through the infected. Ever heard of the Marine Corps? They’re trained for this sort of thing.”
“The police can’t be compared to the Marine Corps, you’re right. But I’ve seen what the infected are capable of. I saw a military unit completely overrun, all dead but one man locked inside his truck. He was trapped,” he said slowly, not sure what she was basing her opinion on. “The infected don’t register pain like you and me. They aren’t afraid of death or physical harm. I saw them rip a man to pieces right in front of me and hold his head up like a trophy.”
He didn’t know why he was letting this woman get to him. Her opinion didn’t matter.
“Well I’m not worried. That’s why I’m here. It won’t be long until someone comes. I’m sick of fishing anyway. Evan said he’d take care of me.”
Evan smiled. “You know I will Cathleen. What do you have for me?”
She pulled a box containing fifty rounds of nine millimeter ammunition from a messenger bag at her side and showed it to Evan.
“I can give you half a dozen of these crabs and a blue fish for that,” Evan replied.
Rodrigo scoffed. “You know the ammunition is worth more than that, Evan.”
Evan looked annoyed at the interruption to his sale. “Maybe for your stuff. I only have the freshest, unlike you. Those fish you’re selling have been on the stringer since yesterday afternoon. I wouldn’t give what you have to my family. It’ll probably get someone sick.”
Matt raised his eyebrows and Rodrigo shook his head. “You know that’s bullshit,” Rodrigo muttered. “You know when I made my catch. Your boat is tied to mine.”
Cathleen looked at Rodrigo skeptically, as if he was trying to sell drugs to kids. “I’ve been getting my food from Evan since I got here and I’m not changing now. I trust him.”
Evan took the bullets from Cathleen and put the fish and crabs in a large stainless steel pot she had with her. She thanked him and headed off.
A sly smile crossed Evans face as she left. “Sorry about that, Rod. It’s only business.”
“I understand business,” Rodrigo snapped, “and that wasn’t it. She deserved to get more for that ammo and you know it.”
Evan shook his head. “Supply and demand my friend. She was willing to pay the price I charged.”
“Yeah, but she thinks you’ll take care of her.”
“Didn’t I?”
“What about when she has nothing to trade?”
Evan waggled his eyebrows up and down. “A woman like that always has something to trade.”
Rodrigo looked disgusted but Matt didn’t miss a beat. “You’re fucked up, man.”
For the first time, Evan seemed to realize he’d gone too far. “Awww, come on guys. You know I’m messing around. I’m not like that.”
Rodrigo and Matt eased up but Sam wasn’t sure if that was just an act. He didn’t think Evan had been joking, but he didn’t really know him and the conversation was switching anyway. Rodrigo and Matt didn’t seem to have a problem with him, so he decided not to either.
Matt looked off at the horizon and then back at Evan and Rodrigo. “Sam and I were talking earlier about going on a supply run. Are you guys in?”
Rodrigo nodded. “You know it.”
Evan contemplated the idea a little longer than Rodrigo had. “I’m in, but only within reason. Who’s going with us? Where are we going? And what are we after? I have a good thing going here.”
“I hadn’t thought about where we would go, but we need supplies. Rodrigo was just saying that the fishing isn’t as good as when we first got here. There are too many people. If we don’t find something soon Raft City will have to split apart.”
Rodrigo cleared his throat. “There isn’t enough for all of these people to live off the water.”
“I dunno man. A supply run seems awful risky when we’re doing well right now,” Evan said.
“I see where you’re coming from,” Sam said, speaking up for the first time since Evan had entered the conversation. “It’s dangerous out there.”
Evan, apparently having missed part of Sam’s conversation with Cathleen, snickered. “And what do you know about it? It’s not too dangerous for me.”
Matt spoke up before Sam had the chance. “Watch yourself, Evan. Sam knows more about the infection than any of us. He lived in the city from the start, while the rest of us floated out here safe.”
“My bad,” Evan said, but he looked skeptical. “I’ve just heard a lot of people talk about how they would be tough guys if they were on land but I haven’t seen much action from them. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Sam shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. All I’m saying is that we need to be careful, whatever we decide to do.”
Matt glanced between Evan and Rodrigo. “Do you guys know anybody who would be willing to go?”
Rodrigo shook hi
s head. “Most people are too scared. They’re happy out here while they still have food. Unable to look ahead.”
“I know a guy,” Evan said. “Carl. He’s a few boats down. He’s a good guy and would be up for it. But it’s fine with me if we don’t do anything. As long as I can keep trading the food I catch for equipment, I’ll be set.”
Matt looked serious. “The question is, how much longer will this last for you? Or any of us? Food might run out,” Matt gestured towards the bullets in Evans hands, “and you can’t eat those.”
“But nobody will take them from me either. That’s what I’m planning for,” Evan said.
A familiar voice came from behind them. “That’s realpolitik in its purest form,” Quinn said.
The four men gave him a puzzled look.
“Realpolitik. Politics based on power. Essentially the person who holds the power makes the rules,” Quinn said. “Quit giving me the evil eye,” he said, when everyone continued looking skeptical. “I was just commenting on what you were talking about. The concept was originally created by a German politician in the nineteenth—”
Matt put his hands up to indicate surrender while Rodrigo and Evan stuck fingers in their ears, shouting, “I’m not hearing this! I’m not hearing this!”
Sam smirked, realizing this was not the first time this had happened.
“Please stop! No more history lessons!” Matt said, laughing. “For the love of God Quinn, we surrender!”
“Alright,” Quinn said, shaking his head with a smile. “Maintain your ignorance if that’s what you want. Matt, you’re not letting Sam trade his shotgun to Evan for a couple of crabs are you?”
Perhaps Sam had been wrong. The other guys seemed to like Evan; maybe he just drove a hard bargain. Could he really hold that against him? There was no time to be fair out here. You took whatever advantage you could get.
“Of course not,” Matt laughed. “What’s the news today, Quinn? Did the four decide on anything of importance or is it the same old, same old?”
“I think you guys are well-versed in the topic at hand: we need food but can’t decide how to get it.”
