Viral Misery (Book 1)

by Watson, Thomas A

  Making sure the winch line was hooked into the front of the jet ski and what few things they could bring already loaded, Wendy leaned and pushed against the jet ski. Slowly, the craft rolled back until it reached the slope of the ramp. Feeling the jet ski getting lighter, Wendy stopped pushing as the craft slid down the ramp and into the water with a splash.

  Walking back, Wendy locked the winch line to stop the jet ski at the bottom of the ramp. Looking at the girls, Wendy could see how nervous they were. “It’s just like riding a four-wheeler or a bike. Jo Ann, you hold onto Sally, and Sally, you hold onto me,” Wendy told them and they both just nodded.

  Glancing down at Ryan in the baby pack on her chest, Wendy patted his back as he chewed on his fist. Since Jo Ann was riding in the back, she was the only one with a backpack on. Since each had on a life jacket, Wendy had had to adjust the backpack so it would fit.

  Putting on her sunglasses, Wendy tightened up her diving gloves. “Follow me,” Wendy said, walking down the ramp and pulling the winch line. The jet ski moved to the ramp and Wendy guided it so it sat sideways to the ramp and climbed on. Checking the spear gun strapped to the handlebar, Wendy was glad she had decided to unload it.

  Reaching out, Wendy helped Sally climb on and throw one leg over the seat. When Jo Ann was on, Wendy grabbed the Velcro strap on the bungee cord line that connected to the key and wrapped the strap around Jo Ann’s wrist. It was a safety feature so if the driver fell off, the motor would shut off.

  Since Jo Ann was in the back, nobody could fall off without knocking her off, but Jo Ann could fall off and not take the rest.

  Wendy gave a last glance at the ship and then started the motor. “I’ll never leave the sight of land again,” Wendy vowed, gripping the handlebar. Turning the handlebar, Wendy gave the engine gas and the jet ski pulled away from the ship heading north.

  Moving closer to shore, Wendy glanced to her left at Miami Beach. Turning to her front, Wendy turned the handlebar to dodge a floating body. Seeing the body was missing its legs, Wendy suppressed a shiver.

  Guiding the jet ski so she was only a few hundred yards from shore, Wendy continued north but kept the speed at a nice cruise. She had jet skis at home and she and Arthur had ridden them every summer, but she didn’t want to worry the twins. Plus, she had never ridden with an infant strapped to her chest.

  Glancing down, Wendy grinned to see that Ryan had buried his face so the wind wouldn’t hit him. Tilting her head to see around Ryan to the instrument panel, Wendy saw she was holding around twenty miles an hour.

  Feeling Sally’s arms relax around her, Wendy glanced toward shore and saw the high-rise hotels. Several had caught fire and they had watched a few, but none had collapsed. Quickly, Wendy glanced back and saw their ship anchored and getting smaller. Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, Wendy turned her head back around and drove on.

  Another reason Wendy wanted to go slow was she knew from experience that the faster these jet skis went, the louder they were. She wanted to go fast enough so if someone shot they would have problems, but not so fast that they could be heard from a long way off.

  So, fighting the urge to gun the engine, Wendy just kept up a cruising speed. As she continued to monitor the shore, Wendy was amazed at all the tall buildings right on the beach.

  The sun was well up when Wendy saw the channel that cut through the beach. Barely slowing, Wendy turned to guide the jet ski into the channel and saw Sandspur Island ahead. Driving under the bridge that spanned the channel, Wendy turned and saw bodies piled up under the north embankment.

  Not even entertaining the idea to investigate, Wendy turned north to follow the sheltered bay behind the beach. Ahead, she saw a few boats in the channel but it was over three hundred yards wide, so she didn’t have to get close to any of them.

  None of the boats looked manned and they didn’t see anyone aboard.

  Reaching the drawbridges at Bella Vista, Wendy sighed with relief that she was on the right course. A nautical person, Wendy wasn’t and she knew it. Going under the bridges, Wendy looked ahead to see buildings on each side of the narrow bay. She’d known they would be there but from the charts, three hundred yards had looked wider.

  Ahead, the channel narrowed to just over a hundred yards. To her left on a balcony of a six-story building, she saw a figure watching them. Staying in the center of the canal, Wendy couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. She was shocked when the figure casually waved at them. Not knowing what else to do, Wendy waved back.

  The person just watched as they passed. Feeling Sally tapping her right leg, Wendy turned to her right. A woman and man were walking along a walkway. Before she turned away, Wendy saw the woman double over coughing. “I see them,” Wendy shouted over her shoulder.

  Looking ahead to Dumfoundling Bay, Wendy’s grip on the throttle lessened. Thousands of bodies bobbed in the water with dozens of drifting boats. “God help us,” Wendy gasped, pressing the throttle but staying at a cruise as she started weaving around the floating corpses.

  Halfway through the body-filled bay, a body to their right was jerked underwater. The girls screamed as a shark’s tail splashed the water and Wendy felt Sally’s grip almost squeeze her in half. Reaching down, Wendy patted her arm and then reached back to pat Jo Ann’s leg.

  “That was a shark! I watch Shark Week, I know!” Sally yelled. Wendy just nodded as she reached forward, gripping the handlebars. She didn’t have the nerve to tell the twins that she had seen dozens of sharks swimming below them.

  Ahead, she saw the bay shrink back down to the narrow channel just over a hundred yards wide. On their left, huge, towering buildings reached for the sky and on the right, were very nice houses. Continuing her weaving around the floating bodies and boats, Wendy looked ahead at the bridge and saw people looking down at them.

  Wendy knew there were over a dozen people looking down at her and all of them were waving frantically toward the shore. As she got closer to the bridge, several started pointing at the water and then over toward the shore. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were telling her to get off the water, but Wendy continued on. Like the people on the bridge, she could see the sleek forms around her under the water, but not as many.

  On the bridge, the group could see hundreds of shadows of sharks swimming around with the bodies.

  Coming out from under the bridge, Wendy saw a boat coming toward her and ‘boat’ was a light term. The yacht was over a hundred feet long and Wendy moved to the side, giving the craft the right of way. The yacht paid no mind to the bodies, but wasn’t going fast enough to produce a wake.

  As they passed, Wendy saw a woman with six kids standing on the bridge with another woman at the controls. They all waved and Wendy returned the wave and then moved back to the center of the channel. Wendy smiled because the twins hadn’t unlatched their grasps since they’d started off.

  Thankful for the yacht, Wendy used the path it had created through the floating bodies, but still had to dodge a large, drifting speedboat. Seeing splashes to her left, Wendy turned to see another body get pulled under and several shark fins splitting the water. “Well, they said sharks were endangered. They won’t be for long,” Wendy mumbled.

  Seeing the houses getting larger, Wendy could only imagine what they would cost, but was sure she wasn’t even close.

  By the time she reached the next bridge, the bodies had floated back out. Weaving around a body, Wendy glanced at the Hallandale Bridge and knew she only had one more to go, hopefully. On the east side under the bridge, she saw a group of people. Only a few turned to watch them and when Wendy gave a casual wave, none returned it.

  “Okay, so not everyone is friendly,” she mumbled, fighting the urge to just haul ass.

  Keeping in the center of the channel, Wendy started tallying up how many people they had spotted. “Not even fifty,” she finally said, knowing before the flu they would’ve seen thousands.

  Glancing down at Ryan, Wendy saw him asleep with
his head flopped back. Moving his head until it looked more comfortable, Wendy second-guessed her plan. She was putting in at a large residential area. The ship had had satellite links, but she couldn’t connect to the internet because she’d really wanted Google Earth.

  To put in at an area with a low population density, Wendy had mapped it out that they would have to ride the jet ski over a hundred and sixty miles along the coast. Like the girls, Wendy wanted off the damn ship and on land. There were canals that fed into the cities, but they had all heard people calling for help on the radio from deep in the cities. Before they ventured into urban areas, Wendy wanted a vehicle and a gun, not necessarily in that order.

  Ahead, she saw a bridge over the channel and reached down to pat Sally’s arm. Turning, Wendy yelled over her shoulder. “That’s the last bridge. If we don’t see a lot of people, we are getting off the water. If not, the next area that looked good is thirty miles further.”

  “Can we get a boat?” Sally yelled back, having seen too many shark fins slicing through the water.

  “Damn, that is a thought,” Wendy mumbled and then yelled out. “Let’s check this area first and decide later.”

  Going under the bridge into North Lake; just another bay, Wendy slowed to ten miles an hour and glanced around. Tall buildings still dominated the left, but the right side had houses lining the area around the lake. Seeing a sandy beach ahead, Wendy sped back up.

  Having no intention of stepping into the water and pulling the jet ski ashore, Wendy only slowed when she neared the beach and braced her body. The bow hit the sand and skidded up, leaving only the very back in the water. Turning the engine off, Wendy climbed off and saw a massive mansion on the corner where the lake flowed back into the channel that continued north.

  Taking the spear gun off the handlebar, Wendy cocked the two rubber bands back and pulled a bolt from the holster strapped to her leg. With a spear loaded, Wendy turned to see the twins already off and looking around. “I don’t like the ocean anymore,” Jo Ann admitted.

  “Me neither,” Wendy smiled and then opened the cargo area, pulling out hers and Sally’s backpacks. “Let’s find a car,” Wendy said, pulling off her life jacket. With the baby carrier on her chest, that was a chore because she didn’t want to wake up Ryan.

  Ryan didn’t get the memo about staying asleep and woke up as Wendy fought to get the life jacket off. Giving a groan, Wendy unbuckled the baby carrier and handed Ryan to Jo Ann, then pulled her life jacket off.

  Taking Ryan back, Wendy tightened up the straps and put the pacifier in Ryan’s mouth. “Have either of you heard or seen anyone since we landed?” Wendy asked in a low voice.

  “Sharks,” Jo Ann said, pointing out to the water as a fin split the surface twenty yards away.

  “Baby, if they come on shore, we are screwed,” Wendy chuckled. “You two stay behind me.”

  As Wendy moved off and crossed the street that ran along the water, they saw she was moving through the yards of houses. Sally grabbed Wendy and stopped her. “We’ll get in trouble for going through people’s yards,” Sally whispered.

  “Sally, it’s easier to see us near the street,” Wendy told her, moving up to the first house. She glanced at the cars in the driveway and sighed, seeing both were tiny sports cars. The next house had a van and a BMW. Tempted with the beamer, Wendy continued on.

  Two houses down they spotted a Toyota 4Runner, but it had crashed into a palm tree. It didn’t look damaged that badly, but Wendy continued on. The next house they crept past Wendy saw a large SUV, but heard coughing inside and quickly hurried off with the girls.

  In two more houses, they heard coughing and Wendy started having bad thoughts because at each house was a large SUV. Seeing the garage closed at the next house, Wendy moved up to a window and peeked inside. A black Tahoe was on the other side of the window. “Yes,” Wendy hissed and moved around to the back door.

  She pressed her ear to the door and listened. After a few minutes, Wendy pressed her nose against the doorframe. She breathed in deep and jerked back, swatting at her nose. “Did something sting you?” Sally asked in alarm.

  “No, it stinks real bad inside,” Wendy said, wiping her nose. Wendy tried the back door and groaned, not feeling the knob turn. Stepping back and looking at the back of the house, Wendy saw a sliding door that led out to a patio. Walking over, she grabbed the handle and pushed.

  When the door slid open, Wendy stopped as a wave of putrefaction washed over her. Fighting not to gag, Wendy stepped to the side and saw the twins holding their noses. “It didn’t stink this bad on the ship,” Jo Ann said in a low voice.

  “These bodies have been locked up in a house under a blazing Florida sun,” Wendy said. “I want you two to move inside, but stay beside the door. I’m going to check the house.”

  “Can’t we come?” Sally asked, glancing around with her eyes but her head never moved.

  “Okay, but if I say run, you run to this door,” Wendy told them and braced her body for the odor to come.

  Walking inside, Wendy’s eyes started to water, swearing she could see the smell. Moving into the kitchen and seeing the back door she had tried, Wendy unlocked it and opened it up. Then she moved over to the sink and opened the two windows.

  Feeling a breeze, Wendy still didn’t take a deep breath as she led them into the house. In the living room, she stopped at seeing the bloated form of a man holding a woman that was equally bloated lying on the couch. Continuing through the living room, Wendy opened the door she thought would lead her into the garage.

  Opening the door, Wendy sighed to see the Tahoe. Then she saw very dark tint on the windows. “How the hell can they have tint that dark?” Wendy mumbled and then saw the post-mounted lights on each side of the windshield. Turning, she looked at the other vehicle for the first time and saw it was a sedan, also with the post-mounted lights by the windshield. But on the sedan, she saw forward mounted flashing lights beside the rearview mirror.

  “How in the hell could cops afford to live in this neighborhood?” she asked, walking over to the Tahoe and opened the door. Not seeing the keys, Wendy closed the door and headed back inside. Stopping in the living room, Wendy saw the man and woman were only wearing shorts.

  “At least you died together,” she mumbled and then moved over to the front windows and opened them up a few inches. The breeze blew in, pulled through the house, and out the back open doors and windows.

  “That’s better,” Jo Ann said, looking around. “Are those the keys on the bar?”

  Turning to the kitchen, Jo Ann saw the bar that separated the kitchen and living room. On the bar were two sets of keys. Walking over, she saw the keys for the Tahoe. Snatching them up, “Very good. Now, since they were cops, let’s find the guns,” Wendy said, moving around the first floor and very happy she hadn’t had to entertain those earlier bad thoughts about the occupied houses with SUVs.

  She found an office and a gun safe in the corner. “Come on,” she groaned, stomping her foot.

  “Try the keys,” Sally said, moving over to the safe.

  “Baby, it needs a combination to open,” Wendy told her, looking at the safe and wondering how to break into it.

  “No, look,” Sally said, pointing at the combination dial and a key slot.

  Holding up the keys, Wendy moved over and started trying them out. On the third try, the key slid into the lock and to Wendy’s surprise, it turned. Grabbing the handle, Wendy turned it and heard the bars in the door unlock. “Why didn’t Arthur make us gun safes like this?” Wendy wondered, opening the door.

  “Wow,” Sally said, looking at the rows of guns.

  Jo Ann moved over to look inside. “Can you shoot them?” she asked hopefully.

  “Girls, not only can I shoot them, I can take them apart and put them back together,” Wendy said, putting the spear gun on the desk. “For once, I won’t complain about a Glock,” Wendy said, pulling out a pistol.

  Ejecting the magazine, Wendy smiled at th
e full mag. Press checking the pistol, Wendy saw brass and let the slide lock back and then slapped the magazine back in. “Glock 17, I’m betting this was hers,” Wendy said, looking back in the safe and pulling another pistol out. “Glock 37, I’m sure this was his.”

  “They have boy and girl guns?” Jo Ann asked as Wendy put the Glock 37 on the desk.

  “No, but boys tend to go with bigger bullets,” Wendy said. “Can I get you two to sit and feed Ryan? Then can you play with him, but stay in this room. I’m going to check the rest of the house.”

  They looked at the ease with which Wendy held the pistol in her hand and felt much safer. “Okay,” they said in unison.

  Taking Ryan off, Wendy left him with the girls and grabbed the keys from the lock on the safe. Walking back into the living room, Wendy stopped and looked at the second set of keys and saw the same key on it that had unlocked the gun safe. Grabbing the keys, she moved back into the garage and climbed into the Tahoe.

  Turning the key on, Wendy saw the gas tank was half full. “I’ll take that,” she said and moved over to the sedan and turned the key on, finding it only had a quarter of a tank. Moving to the trunk, Wendy almost used the key but then saw a trunk button on the fob. Pressing it, she stepped back as the trunk popped open.

  Seeing an equipment bag, Wendy pulled it out and set it on the floor. In a gun rack was an M4 and Wendy went through the keys until she found the one that unlocked it. Taking the M4 out, Wendy set it on the duffle bag and dug through the trunk and found a garment bag with a pair of tactical boots. It only took a glance to tell Wendy they were female boots. Looking at the size, “Six and a half is almost a seven, I’ll try them,” Wendy mumbled.

  Unzipping the garment bag, Wendy found a spare uniform. “Girl stays prepared,” Wendy nodded, setting the boots next to the bag.

  Walking back inside, Wendy headed upstairs and walked in the first room and found it was the master bedroom. Seeing a picture on the dresser, Wendy walked over and picked it up. It showed a nice-looking man and woman in sheriff uniforms. They both looked around Joseph’s age. “So, there are young people that get married and haven’t had kids,” Wendy said, caressing the picture and outlining the couple with her fingertips.