“Walk. Annemarie,” Mike’s voice said, his voice filled with anger. He was the one that got me standing but he sounded far away. Mom and dad were going to be pissed. I was sure I would be grounded.
I managed to get up the ladder to the deck. Mike helped me walk but about halfway across my legs gave out. I couldn’t move, my legs refused to work, so I felt myself falling on to a lounge chair.
“Let me help,” a voice said.
“No!” Mike said, his voice angry. “Don’t help.” He was furious. His voice filled with anger and fear.
“It’s okay,” the voice said. I recognized it as Keith’s. I opened my eyes. Keith and Mike stood above me. Grace stood far off the deck holding her rifle. Lights were on everywhere. I could see Keith had a tear in his jacket, and the sleeve filled with blood. A trail of blood was behind him.
I realized Keith jumped in to save me and gotten bitten himself.
“No!” I screamed. I felt pain as my body got feeling back. “Don’t kill him.”
“Annemarie—“ M
ike said. He paused for a long time, while looking at Keith. “There’s no other way.”
“You can’t-- He’s a carrier.”
Mike took a step back. Because of my stupidity, Keith’s secret was out. I wanted to scream but I was so tired and cold I passed out.
When I opened my eyes next, light came through the port window. I was stripped, my hair and body wrapped in a towels and surrounded by three comforters. I was in the bed alone but Henry was in a chair next to me. His warm hand holding mine.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice trembling. “We were worried.”
“I’m cold,” I said, bringing the blanket around me and I shivered. Wanted to be warmer, wanted to bury myself in the comforter and never come up for being an ass.
“You can’t warm up too fast. That’s what Hannah said. You were lucky Keith was there or—I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Keith—“ I said. “Is he okay?”
“Yes. It was a superficial bite because he was wearing flannels. He treated himself— He’s tied up downstairs, just in case but he shows no signs of becoming one of them, He looks fine.”
And I spilled his secret.
I heard a knock on the door. It opened and Tanya came in. She looked peeved, so I was probably going to get the riot act.
“Henry, give us a minute?”
“Sure,” he said. He kissed the top of my head. I watched him leave the room and close the door. I knew I didn’t love him and that we would separate, but I was glad he was here when I needed it.
“First off, are you okay?” she asked, her tone was concern just a little anger below the surface. Now there would be consequences.
“If you came to tell me I’m an idiot, you’re right. I fucked up.”
Tanya still looked peeved. “You probably think I’m here to give you a piece of my mind, but I figured when smart people do somethin’ stupid, they usually punish themselves pretty good about it.”
“Yes.”
“Gonna happen again? I need to know. ”
“No.”
“Also you got problems, I’ve been letting it slide because I figured you in a rough patch but it’s affecting your behavior and your judgment.” I had broken one of Tanya’s two rules. I was giving her trouble.
“I miss my family--,” I admitted. “I miss my parents, my sister. I miss Mark. I miss the world.”
“Who’s Mark?” she said.
“I was going to marry him and have a normal life.”
“Nothing gonna be normal again. If you are done with this life, I ain’t gonna stop you. Mean, I’ll tell you not to do it. I don’t blame you. We got ourselves a hard world. It ain’t gonna get easy any time soon.”
“I don’t want to live on this boat the rest of my life.”
Tanya laughed. “Who said we gonna live here forever?”
“You never want to leave the boat and you don’t like it when we do.”
“We can’t live our entire life on the boat. We’ll starve and go crazy.”
“You’ve been fighting Jim to find farmland.”
“Jim likes the idea of many choices but his first one, Harbor Island’s fine for me. We can ask good people to join us. Maybe those people at Orient. But first we gotta heal.”
“Heal?”
“Yep. Think about it, Annemarie, when was the last time someone died?”
I didn’t respond.
“No one’s died on this boat, right?”
“Right, except Keith and me almost.”
“Which wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t stupid. We’re gonna stay on this boat, not dealing with zombies or with the dregs of society. Not many problems a mile off shore except for some puking, a hole, and a couple of floaters.
“Come March we’re be ready to settle down and become a community. Before that we’re gonna have three or four good solid months of peace. I’m pissed at you for breaking that peace, Annemarie, because maybe some of us can still get a good night sleep for a change and not have to wake up fearing the zombies are inside.”
She was right, despite the cold, the cabin fever, the food poisoning, the leak, even that floating zombie on the swim deck, I haven’t had a single nightmare about zombies and I slept better than I had in months. She was right about the safety. If I hadn’t been stupid and ignored Mike’s rule, I wouldn’t have fallen in the water.
Or maybe Tanya was right and part of me wanted to die.
“Do we still want have to do overnight watches? I ain’t an ogre. If it’s really causing you problems, you can make it up elsewhere.”
“I need someone to be with me.”
“I’ll ask for volunteers.”
“Does Keith hate me?”
“No, he don’t. Mike’s royally pissed we didn’t tell him but Keith ain’t even mad we tied him up. That kid’s been through a lot of shit. He does his work so I don’t complain but what he’s got, it’s gonna bring trouble.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“No one else can know, Annemarie. No one, you got it? I see trouble in his future a lot of it. When the zombies are gone, he’s gonna be a source of the virus. A source that can start it again. And we’re gonna be in the way.”
Part 2 Montauk
Chapter 6
Jim
“Hi Jimmy,” my dad said. I was too happy hearing his voice to correct him. We tried talking every Wednesday at 10am which was the day his house went out for supplies and he could get to the shortwave radio. We even briefly chatted live on Bob’s show as a “feel good” story.
I choose 10am, because there were
fewer people in the salon. I don’t want to seem like I’m gloating. I got a Christmas present and no one else did.
My dad lived in a house with four other men and two women around his age. All had been hunters previously. They knew how to get food and kill zombies if needed. I used to think my dad was gross for hunting. When I was a ten, it was the first time he tried to get me to
go. Instead I cried about him killing Bambi. He thought it was hilarious I managed to take out two zombies on my own. I still don’t hunt animals, figured it was easier to let Mike do it since he was better at it.
When we first started talking, so
me of it was uneasy. I knew my dad was becoming more accepting of gay people but he was still uncomfortable with it. I hadn’t planned to talk about my sex life at all, even if I was straight. I did tell him about Eric, how our relationship wasn’t working out. When he asked about Cameron, I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. He told me he wished he got to know him better. I wished he did too. My dad would have loved him. They could have gone hunting together. With Cameron, my dad would have gotten the son he could relate too, not the nerdy kid who thought baseball was stupid and guns were icky.
“Hi Dad, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“How are you and your friends?”
“We’re okay. How
about your house?”
My father didn’t respond. I wondered
, for a moment, if the connection was dropped.
“We lost Mr. Halibratt—,” he finally said. “It wasn’t zombies, old age
, I think. I guess seventy is the new ninety.” My dad told me what happened after my mother and sister died. At first he stayed in the house and buried both of them in the backyard. Lived off what food he had. The water, electricity and gas stayed on for a long time. Eventually he realized he couldn’t cut it alone. He learned that all his friends and neighbors had died except Old Mr. Halibratt.
They couldn’t find
a house to let them in because of their age so they formed their own. My dad wasn’t the oldest, not even Mr. Haibratt, but they looked after each other. It made me feel bad about our limits in Costking. I never liked them, even though I went along with them. Sooner or later we all get old.
Around Thanksgiving an Ohio radio operator started broadcasting on an AM station. Bob Bam’s radio show was the highlight of their week and my
father admitted he burst into tears when he heard my name.
“Sorry to hear that.” I remembered Mr. Halibratt as the kindly old man who gave terrible Halloween candy. Every year I got stale Mary Janes or chewy ribbon candy. “At least he wasn’t killed by the zombies.”
“We don’t see them as much. They come around, but they are as you said, old ones.”
“We have them too. We kill them when we see them.” I didn’t mention floaters.
My dad didn’t respond.
“Dad.”
“I wish I could see you, Jimmy. I feel like I wasted a lifetime being angry over who you were when I should have just loved you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had wanted this conversation my entire life. To have
both my parents love and accept me. I wanted them at my wedding and to treat Cameron as they would if he was female.
“Your mother felt the same way at the end.” Even though both my parents weren’t that accepting of me, my mom was much worse than my dad. He called Cameron by his name where she called him ‘That man you live with’.
“All she wanted was her children. She died within 12 hours of getting sick. Kept asking for you, Mary, Lori, even Ellie who was dead in the next room—“
“Dad, you don’t have to say all this. I know mom loved me in her own way.”
“I want to. She didn’t suffer that much, Jimmy. She was delirious most of the time but she kept saying how much she loved and was proud of you. She especially thought of you, she worried about all the wasted time and wanted your and God’s forgiveness. I lied and told her everyone was fine and that you and God forgave her. I never lied to her before.” I don’t know if he was lying now to make me feel better or give me closure. I decided to believe what he said. Sometimes fantasy works better than reality.
I didn’t tell dad my location and neither did he. I’m sure other people have ham radios and can listen but don’t talk. If an unsavory person was listening I didn’t want trouble. I only let him know I was as safe as could be.
Mike came into the room at the worst time ever, but we were going to Orient Beach today. I wiped my eyes. Mike said nothing. Instead he went out on the deck to get the dinghy ready.
“Dad—It’s time for me to go. I’ll talk to you next week.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, dad, I love you.”
“I love you too Jimmy.” I turned off the radio and stood up. Mike was waiting outside. A moment later Annemarie came out from her cabin in the aft. She wore men’s jeans, a sweatshirt over many layers. Her red hair was loose and on her shoulders. She recovered from her fall into the water and I knew she was anxious to get off the boat even if was for a few hours. I still worried about her mental state but at least it was improving, as we got closer to spring.
It was late February close to the second anniversary of the fall of civilization. Two years without Cam. It was unseasonable warm today, and we were heading to Orient beach where we saw a group of survivor
s late last year. Annemarie wanted to check up on them. She also had been itching to get off the boat for a while. Honestly I worried she was going to crack up.
Winter hadn’t been as bad as I thought despite the food poisoning and the leak. We had been some icy cold nights where we used more kerosene than rationed but it only snowed about three or four times, never a blizzard. We even had a snowball fight on the bridge. The rationing helped. The only exception was when Annemarie fell off the boat and we had to put her in a warm shower for 10 minutes. She made up for that by giving up her five minutes showers for two weeks and being less of a bitch afterwards. Everyone, especially Mike was piss
ed at Tanya for not telling him about Keith. I didn’t blame her because I kept Rachel’s secret.
I scouted out a perfect place for a farm on Harbor Island.
I was excited but Tanya was overly cautious. I read in a book that this farm was not only still in use, but had a museum with antique farm equipment that might work and a cold room to store foods in without refrigeration. As long as it was vacant, we could nab it. If it wasn’t, we could share or find another farm. I can’t imagine all of them have people.
I stood on the deck enjoying the sun in my face and hoping for an early spring, while Tanya sailed, and she was not bad considering she had never been on a boat. Still
, Grace did almost all of it with Hannah helping.
We passed Orient beach but didn’t see anyone. Tanya put the anchor down while Mike got the dinghy ready.
Eric wasn’t on deck. Probably because Grace was. I didn’t know how long he would hold a grudge. She did the right thing.
I missed Maddie and Rachel, my best friends. I’m glad to have Tanya and we had gotten close, but she had become distant since being leader. It took her forever to pick a farm we could settle. I knew she was unhappy Rachel foisted leadership on her. I can’t say I blame her. Rachel picked both of us, but I had shrugged most of my respo
nsibilities off letting Tanya make the hard decisions.
Mike got th
e dinghy into the water and climbed down to get it ready. Once he signaled we could go down, Grace went first, followed by Annemarie who slowly went down the ladder watching her every step. I stood at the edge looking into the water wondering how cold it must have been when she fell in. She never said but Henry told me her skin felt like ice.
Keith was tied to a chair for twelve hours. He didn’t get sick, didn’t get pale, and took the whole thing in stride.
“Come on, Jim,” Dave said.
I hopped over the side and onto the ladder. Mike held the dinghy so it was a steady and I climbed in.
I took a seat next to Grace who had her rifle strapped to her back. I knew she had a side arm too. Mike had given her two and taught her to use it. Like every other firearm, she mastered it quickly but the rifle was still her favorite. She talked more and wasn’t always sarcastic. She had warmed up to Mike, probably over their love of guns.
Mike gave me a handg
un that even Grace told him was a bad idea. I told my dad this a few weeks ago and he laughed for three minutes. I hated guns. I always had. I’m grateful they can take out the zombies but I often wished for a world without them. I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I was an idealist, not stupid but I preferred hitting zombs repeatedly with a baseball bat or a crowbar.
While Cam wasn’t a gun nut, he occasionally wen
t skeet shooting with fellow Log Cabin Republicans which he could never convince me to come along. He didn’t like gun control. He thought it was constitutionally protected and he felt gays needed to be armed. I thought they were icky. He thought that was cute.
Mike had bought an entire arsenal with him.
The giant SUV he drove was piled high with guns and ammo, more than food. He even had a rocket launcher he built himself. I sometimes thought he was nutty but glad he was on our side.
The guns were locked in a storage cabinet in the luggage compartment in the lower level. Everyone except Simon, Brie and Keith had a firearm and t
he only reason Keith didn’t yet was Mike was waiting for the weather to be warm to show him how to use it.
Mike started the engine and we were off. We sometimes rowed the dinghy to save gas but today we used it because we were a half mile off shore.
Tanya wanted to come but Mike said it would probably be better if he did first contacts. We didn’t know how other groups were structured. The government camp had been run by a woman and policed by three men but from what Rachel told me most of the militias were run by men. They may not like that our leader was a twenty-something black woman. It upset me that even after the apocalypse we had to deal with this. We couldn’t tell people Tanya was our leader or I was gay.
Mike stopped the dinghy close to the beach. I stepped out into cold water that iced my feet even though I wore waterproof and insulated boots. I quickly moved to the beach as did the others. When we
were all off, Mike pulled the dinghy all the way to shore.
Annemarie had seen them on the beach, but we weren’t quite where they were. I
had never been here but Mike had. He said they could be in the pavilions, concession stands and ranger stations or the lighthouse. We started at the place they were spotted.
Even though it was a warm
er day, it was still winter. The air was dry and chilly. I still dressed in my winter coat. The handgun felt uncomfortable in the inner pocket.
Boating hadn’t been allowed
off this beach, but I don’t think that mattered now.
Then a bad smell hit
. I hated that I recognized it so quickly. The smell of the dead and among it could be zombies.
“Maybe this ain’t a good idea,” Dave said.
I usually didn’t agree with Dave but I did in this case. It didn’t stop me from moving closer to the pavilions and the smell. I can’t imagine anyone would live here.
I saw the first body but no movement. No zombies or living people.
“It’s only dead people,” Mike said. “Probably flu victims.”
That changed after
Mike took a few steps forward.
“Holy mother of god.”
I didn’t want to see but curiosity took over. I moved closer to take a better look at the pavilion.
Bodies were scattered all over the picnic areas. On tables, on the ground, on blankets and sleeping bags. All ages, genders, races, a diverse crowd of dead bodies.
I didn’t throw up. The bodies were horribly decayed, and I didn’t see marks they were attacked. These were all flu victims who had been here a long time. The outbreak started in May. Maybe some were enjoying the park, or others fled here because they thought it safe to be away from people. I didn’t move forward to investigate the rest of the area. I saw the tattered tents and peeling paint on shuttered concessions. This area belonged to the dead.
“Let’s just go to the lighthouse,” Mike said, his voice low.
We went back to shore to get the dinghy. Mike and Dave dragged it along shore then placed it back in the water.
The lighthouse was at the western end of the Orient, away from the State Park. Mike had to use the motor to get there. The smell of the dead diminished as
we got closer replaced by sea air. When we got to shore, we saw two rowboats pulled all the way to the entrance.
“Hello!” Mike called out before we even got there. “Anyone here? We’re friendly!”
“Hello,” a male voice yelled out. I looked at a window and saw a man looking out. The window was slightly ajar. “You’re armed.”