6th Horseman, Extremist Edge Series: Part 1 (34 page)

Read 6th Horseman, Extremist Edge Series: Part 1 Online

Authors: Anderson Atlas

Tags: #apocalypse, #zombie, #sci fi, #apocalyptic, #alien invasion, #apocaliptic book, #apocalypse action, #apocalyptic survival zombies, #apocalypse aftermath, #graphic illustrated

“You okay?” Rice asks.

She totally rips me from my Zen. I grunt and
move from the room. You know, I usually hate talking to people. One
of my things, I guess. I used to count how many people I had to
talk to in a day. It was a good day if I didn’t have to say a word
to anyone. I would feel like an invisible man, like I was watching
my life on television for the fun of it. I loved every minute of my
solitude.

But now I feel like darkness is coming for
me. It’s behind me like that proverbial closet monster. I shutter
as nervousness whips through my heart. This fucking sucks. One
minute I feel relaxed, and the next I’m freaking out and not trying
to show it. I look at Rice. She smiles, which exaggerates her
dimples. She’s got a good smile. I guess I like her being here
distracting me from the darkness.

The next two rooms have twin beds. “One of
these is mine,” I say. “I’m gonna block out that sun and sleep for
a week.”

Rice peeks in. “Big rooms. Very nice. I’ve
never been on a boat this big.”

“Me either. I’ve just been on speedboats,
racing boats that burn through the water and make your nipples
stand up.” That was a lie. I’ve never been on anything other than a
rowboat. I look at her to see if she sees through my lie. She
doesn’t.

There’s a full bathroom with a tub behind the
next door. “Rich people got it good! Even at sea,” I exclaim. “This
is an f-ing million-dollar yacht!”

Rice moves in and tests the water. It works.
“Oh shit! I can take a bath! There is a God after all! Oh, I have
to tell Andy. He loves baths.”

“No hot water, though,” I reply, not bringing
her down at all.

“I don’t care. I just need to get wet.”

“Oh, yeah?” I say and give her my orgasm
face. She shoots me a frown. I pretend to smack myself across the
face. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.”

She shrugs. She’s definitely a prude. I move
to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s the master bedroom. I
run to the huge bed and jump on it. The mattress is so soft. “I
change my mind.
This
is my room!”

Rice follows me and pokes her nose in the
bathroom and in all the drawers. “Eight people, seven beds. This
will be fun.”

“You wanna rock this king-size luxury bed?” I
pat the cushion next to me.

“Keep dreaming,” Rice replies. There’s that
cute smile again. If I can chill out the creep in me I might be
able to get into her pants.

“Joke, just a joke,” I plead forgiveness with
my best puppy dog face. I open the remaining hatches. After a sweet
moment of silence, we go back up top.

Andy lies on the settee in the middle of the
boat. He’s looking up. The boat’s ropes and metal pulleys hit
against the mast. Tink, tink… tink, tink. The rhythm seems to echo
the clock in my head. I wish I had a joint with me.

I look at the shore. I see a few walkers
stumble to the end of the small dock where the rowboat is tied
up.

“What are they doing?” Rice asks. I
shrug.

One of the walkers looks over the edge of the
dock at the boat. It loses its balance and falls in the water.
“Whoa! Look at that!” I yelp.

“What are they doing? No one’s even in the
boat.” Rice runs to the cabin and vanishes into the boat. She
returns with a pair of binoculars. We take turns looking through
them.

A different puppet walks down the beach and
steps into the water cautiously. It moves into the water until the
water covers its head. It sloshes to the rowboat and grabs on to
it. Another walker fiddles with the line until the boat gets
untied! “Oh shit!” The boat slowly floats away from the dock but
stops a few feet away. More walkers stumble into the water. I count
six. The boat slowly moves away from the dock. The damn things are
keeping it right where it is.

“How can that thing breathe underwater?” I
mumble.

“They’re dead. They don’t breathe
anymore!”

Andy sits up and runs to the railing. “What’s
going on?”

Rice goes to one knee. “I want you go to down
below. Find a bed and stay there. Try and rest. I don’t want you to
worry at all. Okay?”

Andy nods and runs to the ladder. He pauses
then goes below.

“That puppet is just gonna stay there,
holding on until they get back?” I can’t believe this crap.

“They’re setting a trap.” Rice starts to
cry.

“No shit,” I reply.

Shortly afterward, Isabella comes down the
path pushing a cart full of stuff. She stops at the dock and turns
to help Markus and Josh.

A minute later, Ian, Hana and Tanis show up
on mountain bikes and — a dog?!

Rice and I jump up and down. “It’s a trap!
Walkers under the boat!” We watch Ian dive into the rowboat. I yell
again. He can’t hear me. We can’t do shit! I’m stuck on this boat
without so much as a BB gun.

Rice is wailing. I scream so loud I gag
myself. All I can do is watch.

 

 

Ian manages to get the rowboat back to the
dock. They load the boat with the shit as Isabella bitch slaps the
walkers into piles of twitching lumps. When everyone gets in the
boat they start comin’ toward us.

Hana and Ian pull at those oars. They don’t
move very much at all. I watch through the binoculars and yell,
“They’re under you!”

At the same time the walkers pull the boat on
one side. The boat flips over. Everyone is thrown into the water
along with all our shit.

I can see them thrashing. The boat drifts
away. Splashing. That’s all I see. Splashing. I back up. The
binoculars slip from my fingers.

“What do we do?” Rice cries out, grabbing at
me.

I can’t swim that far. My fat ass would
drown. I’m stuck. I know Rice can’t swim it either. So we watch.
All we can do is watch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1.26
Ian:

 

O
ur rowboat, packed
with food, water, fuel, and ourselves, flips over. Water fills my
lungs and I cough it out. I try to breathe but more water splashes
into my mouth. Someone grabs me! I open my eyes. Even though the
water is dark and swirling and chaotic I can see an emaciated,
vein-covered hand of a walker pulling me under. Multiple hands
reach through the turbulent, bubbling tempest and claw at my skin.
The surface is only a few feet away but I can’t reach it.

I twist like a corkscrew. The water helps me
escape them. I slide right out of their grip and swim up. My head
bursts into the air and I gasp. Isabella is free also and she’s
swimming for shore. I see Markus, Tanis, Hana, and Josh emerge.
We’ve all slipped out of their trap. When my feet touch the muddy
shore I catch my breath.

I look at Hana. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “I hate those things.”

The walkers rise from the water. Drenched and
washed of the dirt and blood makes these walkers look different,
like starving, pissed off old folks. The worms protruding from
their eyes twitch and flap in agitation. There are six of them.

I grab a large rock from the muddy shore and
bash one across the head. I hit and hit and hit until I can’t
breathe. I kick the knee and it breaks backward and collapses. This
bastard is done for. It’s on its stomach. I grab a wrist and wrench
the arm back until it pops from the socket. The other arm
dislocates just as easy. The walker can only flop around.

I help Tanis beat his walker to a pulp.
Everyone stands over their kills, triumphant. Their little ambush
failed, but more are coming.

“Let’s get our stuff back on the rowboat! Me
and Isabella will distract them until you’ve got it all,” I
yell.

Walkers approach from the city. Me and
Isabella lure the group away from our salvage area. They follow us
into the shallow waves, which slows them further. Pertinacious
fuckers, they are. I jump over the small waves and run away.
Isabella steps from the waves and onto the shore. She blasts one in
the face with her shotgun and snaps a few of their knees with
well-placed kicks.

When Markus yells out, we dive into the water
and swim to the rowboat.

The group helps Isabella and me into the
boat, nearly tipping it over again.

I feel the tension in my chest ebb. “Did you
get all the gear?” I ask while I watch the horde splash into the
water, still trying to come for us.

Markus shakes his head. “We can’t lift the
gas cans. They’re on the bottom.” Markus apologizes.

I sigh and shake my head. I’m tired, but this
isn’t over yet. I dive overboard. The gas cans are like lead
anchors on the sea floor. When I surface I can barely stay afloat.
Isabella and Hana grab my prize.

“Lean on the other side!” Hana yells to
Markus and Josh and Tanis. The counterbalance keeps the boat from
tipping over as we hoist the container into the boat.

Four more gas cans. I dive and surface them
all. It’s more important than the food.

We row to the
Pioneer
and unload. If
everyone gets a quart of water a day and a two thousand calorie
diet, we have enough food for two weeks. Provided no food is
wasted. It’s not enough. We’re going to need more.

I start the engine and head to open sea,
telling myself that further down the coast we’ll be able to find
small towns with easier sources of food and water to salvage. I
feel hopeful. It’s safe out here. The open sea is our
salvation.

#

I’ve been sailing the
Pioneer
south
along the East coast for three days and I’m not even sure if we’ve
reached Virginia yet. I don’t know how to read the maps, and we
don’t have the right one aboard anyway. I’m sailing blind like an
explorer, but without the experience. Two days ago I tried my hand
at sailing. I’d tapped into my teen years when I’d taken dingy
sailing classes in the Etang de Perols. That was a beautiful bay
outside of Montpellier, France. I’d gone there every summer until
my mother needed more seclusion. She complained about the hordes of
party people on the beaches and the naked consumerism until my
father couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when we started going to
Fiji and Tonga for our summer vacations. Yeah, no consumerism
there, right?

Anyway,
Pioneer

s
two main
masts were easy to set up. They unrolled from the boom that stuck
out of both masts. The forward jibs were more difficult because I
had to find them and figure out how to get them up. Eventually, I
got the smaller jib up. The other was more difficult, so I had
Tanis stuff it back in the sail locker where I found it. The only
other sail I didn’t use was the sail on the top of the main mast.
It just needed to be rolled out, but no one was willing to climb
the rigging that high to get to it. I had no idea what sheet was
used to control it. There were so many ropes. It didn’t matter
though. We were cruising along at a decent pace.

After those first couple of days I felt like
I was getting the hang of it. Every now and again the wind would
push us around. At first it was scary. Then I began to anticipate
the wind because I could see it coming. It would race across the
water creating small white caps on the waves then seconds later the
boat would rock.

 

#

Now I’m in control. It is the end of the
third day and I’m feeling great. The wind is strong and we’re
making great time. The sunset is beautiful. A sea bird checks us
out and follows us. I get goose bumps running through my skin like
electric fire flying through a circuit board. Dolphins are playing
in our wake. Tanis, Rice, and Andy yell and scream as they watch
them. Hana looks like she’s tearing up. I pump my fist in the air a
few times. The dangerous world has been reduced to a blemish in my
thoughts like hairline cracks in an old painting. There is a
sweetness in the air. I’m not hungry, not sad, not even anxious.
This is peace.

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