by Mark Tufo
Stenzel, instead of fighting against the locomotion I’d given her, was going with it. She flew through the door, rolled over once and was back on her feet just as I came through. There was an enormous ship-shaking thump as the greaver slammed into the door frame. I jumped slightly as I felt a goose from the horn as it brushed up against my right ass cheek. We were running blindly, I was following her as she hit a staircase and headed straight up like a drowning victim glimpsing the surface. By the time we reached a catwalk that ran along the front part of the flight deck, my head was pounding and there were starbursts in front of my eyes. Figured something had finally given, and I was having a stroke.
It was Stenzel that let me know it was something different but potentially just as dangerous. “Sir! Your oxygen!” I heard the words but they had no meaning. My starved brain didn’t have enough fuel to understand them. “I’m removing your helmet!”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stop her; I placed a hand upon hers. I was gasping, and the way I felt, I’m pretty sure I was a nice-looking blue color. I fumbled with the bag, but I’d lost all dexterity. She immediately realized what I was doing.
“Hold on, sir. Get on your knees, small breaths.” She had to press down on my shoulder to get me to go down. I’d never been water-boarded, but I had a decent idea of what it felt like as she sloshed nearly the entire bottle of cleaner over my head, rubbing it around on my chest, arms and legs, doing her best to get every part of me. “Couple of minutes…you’ve got this. If not, I know CPR! I’ll bring you back!” She’d poured the remaining contents on herself and was doing the best she could to clean off. It would do no good to get me squeaky clean if she were to infect me. “Three minutes,” she said as she finished scrubbing herself. Every fifteen seconds she was giving me an update. At two minutes and fifteen, the starbursts had gone away and were replaced by pin holing. It was as if I were looking through the wrong end of a strong pair of binoculars. I fell over at one forty-five. At one fifteen, each beat of my heart caused pain as it wanted to break through its constraints and get to that which I was denying it. After that, everything she said were nothing more than diminishing sounds that carried no more meaning than the trailing vapor of a far-off comet as it streaked through the cosmos.
Death hurt more than I thought it would. The light at the end of the tunnel so bright I could not open my eyes. The spiking sensation behind my eyes could only be attributed to the touch of God, perhaps angry I had failed. What I thought would be a loving embrace upon entering into the domain of the afterlife was more of a crushing sensation. That was when I felt the steel grating under the back of my head and the sunshine upon my face. It wasn’t death; it was life, and it was infinitely more painful. I blacked out right after I vomited.
10
Mike Journal Entry 10
The sun was heading down when I awoke. “Hangover” didn’t even begin to scratch the surface with how bad I felt. I figured these symptoms were the beginning stages of the virus. I was resting with my head against the ship, my legs splayed out toward the side of the catwalk, a heavy, green tarp strung up to my right and about ten feet farther away was Stenzel. She was sitting cross-legged, gazing my way, her rifle in her lap, her protective helmet was off.
“Am I dying?” I asked, my throat raw.
“Don’t think so.”
“A little better bedside manner would be good.” I shifted so I was sitting up. My neck felt like it had been stepped on.
“Side effects of asphyxiation.”
“Did I die?”
She shook her head.
“Any zombies?”
“On the flight deck, but closer to the tower than here.”
“How long have we been here?”
“Couple of hours.”
I rolled over so I could stand.
“Don’t stand up all the way or you’ll make a silhouette, sir.”
“Not sure I have enough substance left for that. Do we have comms?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing followed us up?”
“I think the greaver was pretty tightly wedged.”
“Why are you so far away?”
“I wasn’t sure how well I cleaned myself off.”
“Fuck, Stenzel. How are you feeling?” I had one hand braced on the ship, the other on my forehead.
“I think it’s too early to tell. Bags told me it’s twenty-four hours after exposure. He was talking about how long it would take to affect the zombies, though. I would imagine it’s different for people. The irony is zombies are much better able to deal with viruses than we are.”
“Makes sense. They are a virus,” I said.
She nodded. “We should be fine.” I think she said this more to comfort herself than me. “The virus is passed by contact with blood and bodily fluids.”
“Not airborne?” I knew Bags had said it but…
“Not even a little bit,” she replied.
“That stasis room was the ideal place to drop that canister, then. It was one big body fluid vat.”
“Well, at least that visual stopped the hunger issue I was having.” Stenzel stood, hunched over. “Sir, could you clean my back?” I grabbed the bottle and poured what little remained on her. I wouldn’t ever eat off that surface, but I was reasonably confident I’d eradicated any residual virus. I had a heart-stopping moment when a splash of liquid smacked onto my bottom lip. My eyes must have got as big as saucers.
“Rain.” Stenzel smiled, but it was a weary one.
“Flip your helmet over, we’ll collect some rainwater.”
“You, sir? You’re going to drink out of a hazmat helmet that has been exposed to Ebola?”
“It’s clean, right? I mean, sure it is. It’s going to be twenty-four hours until the zombies start getting sick and then what another twenty-four to thirty-six until they start dying? Don’t look at me like that, I was listening to the briefing a little bit. We can’t go that long without water, and without canned air, we can’t go hunting through the ship for some. That was an oversight on my part.”
“No, that’s my fault, I had water, I lost it when I slipped in the machinery room.”
“Bunch of casualties in the machine room. Doesn’t matter—just being in the suit has been sapping water. I can feel it sloshing around at my feet. I’d suggest taking these off, but hypothermia is no joke either.” The water splash had turned into a sprinkle, but if the horizon was any indication, we were about to get a downpour. “Come on, we should get under the tarp.”
We placed our helmets upside down and got underneath the tarp just as the heavy rain fell. It was difficult to think, the drops making so much noise. We made some small talk through the night, stopping suddenly a couple of times when we heard some strange noises off in the distance. This was far from an ideal situation. We should have rotated guard duty, but I just didn’t have the energy, and I couldn’t expect her to do it on her own. It was a risk, but so was everything else. The next morning after a not horrible night of sleep, I pulled the tarp off. It was beginning to get toasty with the sun pounding down upon us. I was happy to note, both of our helmets were there and had a couple of inches of rainwater contained within them.
“Time to get up.” I shook Stenzel awake.
“If you don’t want to drop out of my top list for commanders, you’ll let me sleep.”
“I made breakfast.”
“It’d better include Pop-Tarts.”
“Really? You haven’t been into Tommy’s secret stash, have you?”
She looked at me strangely, not sure if I should be concerned that I was not only used to that stare but okay with it.
“Blueberry…not much I wouldn’t do right now for one.”
“Sorry. This isn’t even going to compare, but you’ll like it.” I handed her the helmet. We were both careful, folding over the neck material to cover the part that had been exposed. I started slow then began to guzzle, doing my best to not let any of the precious fluid dribble down my
chin. It was over much too soon. I laughed when I thought to myself, “that’s what she said.” I didn’t let Stenzel in on that one. Like the smart kid she was, she was rationing.
By the time the sun was high overhead, it was getting uncomfortable. I carefully stripped off my suit. The relief was immediate. Stenzel was quick to follow. The sweat dried up by midday, it was unseasonably warm, and I was wishing I had more water to drink, though my body had rebounded nicely after the earlier intake. We were just sitting there, not talking too much. Every time I had a slight cough or felt even remotely lightheaded, I had to talk myself off the ledge and convince myself I didn’t have Ebola. I know I am my own worst enemy. Maybe too much time to think is, for some, a benefit; but that’s not something I can share in.
“Those are some huge ass seagulls.” I was lying down, shielding my eyes and looking at a small swarm of the gray and white flying sea rats.
“Those aren’t seagulls.” Stenzel had taken an interest. “Those are wandering albatrosses.”
“Oh, come on, you’re just making shit up now.”
“No, seriously. My dad loved bird watching, had a big scrapbook of all the ones he’d taken pictures of and all the ones he still needed to get. Wandering albatross is the largest bird in the world. Some can have an eleven-foot wingspan.”
“Damn! I hope we don’t get shit on.”
“That’s what you’re thinking right now?”
“Aren’t you? Eleven-foot wingspan is nearly double you, Stenzel. What size crap you think that thing takes? Could probably break bones if you were hit with it from that height.”
“I wasn’t worried about it, but now I’m concerned. Top was right; being around you is catchy.”
“That’s just good sense.” One of the enormous birds peeled off from the rest and began to circle us; possibly it thought we were a meal. We were just laying out there. I found it odd that they weren’t coming in lower to check out the plethora of zombie parts and bodies littering the deck, or maybe they had and knew better. I stood, well, I hunched. I wanted to make sure that the pterodactyl wannabe had no reason to come any closer. Weird when you do something and get entirely different results from what you expected to happen. Like when you tell your wife to relax during an argument. Oh, I can absolutely assure you that is the last thing that will happen. The bird, upon seeing me move, instead of rejoining its flock, swooped down, pulling up at the last moment to sit on the railing not fifteen feet from me. Stenzel was right; the thing was unreasonably huge. In fact, we were about the same height. I felt like I was looking at a person in a bird costume. It turned its head so we were staring at each other, eye to eye. I raised my rifle, hoping the threatening gesture would send it away.
“You can’t shoot it.” Stenzel seemed bemused.
“I’d seriously be thinking about it if I wasn’t worried about the noise.”
“It’s just curious.” She stood, hunched like I was, to get a better look. The bird spread out its wings. I was already freaked out, didn’t need the added display. The long beak with the barb at the end looked like it could do some damage, if it was so inclined. “You need to relax.”
I turned to her. The words felt as if she’d pushed a button within me marked, Irritate. “Huh. So that’s what that’s like. Weird.”
“Sir?” Stenzel had no sooner asked the question when the bird started squawking. The noise was loud, and, much like the bird itself, wholly unwelcome.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bird.” I took a half step to shoo it away. It once again fanned out its wings and redoubled its cries. Then I knew exactly what it was doing. “Shoot it.” Before she could question me on it, I continued, “It’s alerting the zombies to our location.”
“That’s….” I’m sure she was going to end that with insane, she didn’t need to finish it, as we felt the plates under our feet begin to shake. Stenzel pulled that gun free like a gunslinger, placing two into the chest of the bird. It cawed weakly and fell over the railing. I moved to watch it splash into the ocean far below.
“It’s coming.” Stenzel, the smarter of us two, was peeking onto the deck.
I moved to the wall next to her. We pressed up tight as the behemoth approached. Its clicking noise reverberated off of the deck as it searched eagerly to find us. Without our suits on, we would be leaving a scent, although I had no idea how well it could smell.
“Is that the same one?” Stenzel asked.
“Want me to ask it?” It was on the far side of the catwalk above where we had come in. I could see it as its massive head dipped down—then came a series of clicks. “Okay, didn’t find us, just go away.” I willed it, though my Jedi mind trick was not strong, or perhaps the greaver was not weak-minded. either way, it moved ten feet closer and performed the same ritual. It seemed to be reasonably sure we were here, somewhere, and was going to check the entirety of the area.
“If it moves closer, we’re making a run for it.”
“Where?”
“After it does its location thing, we’ll make a break for the door we came in.”
“You want to sneak back past it?”
“That’s the plan,” I said as I moved the tarp away so I could get a look at our escape. “Change of plans. Up. Move,” I said as a reaver was standing in the doorway, looking right at our makeshift hideaway. I nearly tossed Stenzel up and over to get her going. I was immediately behind. She took two steps toward the tower when the greaver must have heard her. It snorted, swung its head and pinged the living shit out of us as the reaver began its cough bark. She veered hard to the right and the front of the ship. Wasn’t sure what this was leading to. Her arms were pumping and she was running as fast as she could. I turned to put a couple of bullets in the greaver. Both hit smack dab in the center of the skull, I saw some skin and quills flap up, but other than that, all I’d done was ensure it was going to need a couple of Excedrin before the day was through.
I must have spent more time shooting the damned greaver than I thought. When I turned to run, Stenzel was far ahead of me. I could hear the reaver; it was also in pursuit mode. I was following Stenzel, though I had no fucking idea as to what she was doing. She was heading straight for the bow, that’s the front, right? I mean unwaveringly heading for it, though there wasn’t anything there, nothing to hide behind and make a stand, just wide-open decking. I stumbled as I watched her leap straight off the edge. Yeah, no doubt we were in dire straits but not quite jump-into-the-ocean-from-a-hundred-feet-up, dire. People could live from that fall, but unscathed was unlikely. I was picturing her sinking deeper and deeper into the water, maybe with both of her legs broken. I didn’t even think as I leaped. Was not at all expecting to see what I was. Stenzel was about five feet below, standing on some stout netting, doing her best to prevent me from rolling off the end, which could have happened, considering it only protruded about ten feet.
“What the fuck is this?” I asked as she grabbed hold.
“Safety netting, I think.”
“You knew it was here?”
“Sure.”
It wasn’t big enough to catch a plane, but I suppose if some poor bastard was unlucky enough to get washed off the deck, he’d appreciate this. What he was doing that close to the edge, though, was the real question. The reaver did not suffer from altruism and did not follow us bravely over. It did, however, look over the edge to see where we’d gone. It did look pleased when it saw that we were all right, but for reasons other than relief at our continued well-being. It deftly hopped down onto the netting, its head hanging low as it got into position to attack. It was moving from side to side, looking for a weakness to exploit. Now that we’d been found out, I saw no reason to keep our whereabouts a secret as I aimed in. Had it too, dead to rights or dead to sights, either/or, when the greaver quite literally crashed the party. It was not going to let the reaver have all the fun. I fell back and into Stenzel. The greaver had landed snout first, right at the very edge, its horn broke through the webbing and its momentum carr
ied the rest of its body up and over so that it was dangling by its head.
This would generally be a good thing, but its sheer weight and the way it was thrashing around was stressing the moorings. I could hear them groan as they struggled to hold on. A bolt sizzled past my cheek, leaving a groove as it went. The entire structure dropped a foot. The reaver was still trying to make a play at us as we moved closer to the ship. Stenzel grabbed the lip of the deck and was pulling herself up; I had just grabbed hold of her outstretched hand as the reaver sprang. My right hand in Stenzel’s, my left reaching for safety, I felt the burn of a tooth dragging down my leg just as my hand smacked the deck and the structure fell away with a cacophony. I looked over my shoulder to see the greaver and the reaver plummeting. Would have given them both a finger but I was a bit busy. I moved fast—I knew where this was going and I didn’t have much time.
“I’m going to be out of commission soon,” I told her as I pulled myself up and onto the deck. She saw the blood flowing from the wound.
“Zombie?”
I shook my head. “High as a kite.” I could already feel the flood of chemicals washing over my brain. Stenzel grabbed my arm and was leading me to the other side of the ship and the catwalk there. My eyes were dancing in my head as vibrant colors splashed across my visage. I felt like I was walking through a graphic novel. I was stumbling; at one point, I’d fallen over, my legs no longer under my control. Stenzel may or may not have yelled at me a few times to get up. If she had, she’d given up and was dragging me by the arm.
“Whoa, I’m surfing.” My head was dragging on the deck, the sun setting and rising in quick succession. The moon passed by a half dozen times on one of its circuits, the man in the moon gave me a flirtatious wink. “Back at ‘cha big guy.” I clicked my tongue.
