Using the extras as bait, Jenn and Stu took to trolling, setting out all four poles. The sun was a quarter of the way into the sky when one of Stu’s poles jerked and let out a hiss of line. He had caught a pale white halibut that was just a few fingers over two-feet long.
The little beast put up a desperate struggle and nearly escaped as Stu tried to land it. With all the noise, Jillybean finally came up from her cabin where she had been cocooned in four blankets.
In the bright light of day, she had a sallow look about her and the rings beneath her eyes were blue. She had not slept well; the dark corners of the cabin had held creatures made wholly of enormous black-lipped mouths. They had not stopped yammering on and on, sometimes using Eve’s voice and sometimes those of other people—people she had killed.
She couldn’t help herself as she came up and looked west to where the hills were black and ruined.
You did that. You did that. You did that, chanted a voice from the cabin below her.
Her shoulders twitched and her breath caught in her throat, but otherwise she was able to pretend she hadn’t heard it. A laugh that was all anxiety and faux cheer, bubbled out of her. It hung in the air until the halibut slid right out of Stu’s hands. This brought on a scramble that went from one end of the boat to the other as the fish did everything in its power to leap to safety.
“I kind of wish he got away,” Jillybean remarked. “He put up a good fight; it’s sad that he didn’t make it.”
“Do you want me to let him go?” Stu asked.
This was borderline blasphemous to Mike who cried, “Hold on! No one’s letting any fish go. You never know when your luck will dry up. That could be the last fish we catch today and I for one am starving. How do we, uh go about cooking that bad boy?”
He was talking to Jillybean who had torn out the kitchen on their trip south so they could escape the Corsairs. “We can stop anywhere and get a little grill.”
“Not just yet,” Stu added in a rush. “The wind can be as fickle as fishing. We should go on a little further.” He didn’t want to dock in full view of the devastation Eve had caused. They all picked up on his meaning, including Jillybean who acted like she hadn’t.
The wind was fickle and it was another long hour before they pulled behind Angel Island; now only the ugly haze of smoke above the hills could be seen. Mike gave Stu a pointed look, suggesting with it that he was quite possibly on the verge of passing out from lack of nourishment.
Stu pointed them to Brickyard Cove. It had once been the home of some of the bay area’s most affluent and nautically inclined people. The homes were built right on the water, almost all with fading grey docks floating in front of them. In no time they found a grill and tore up one of the worse-for-wear docks to use as fuel.
With the hill out of sight, Jillybean was in a much better mood. She brought out one of the pipe bombs she had created and asked, “Who wants to try it? I have to test these, you know. I’m still dubious about the magnesium and ammonia perchlorate combo as the primary.”
This brought on another uncomfortable moment. Stu worried that an explosion would bring Eve out of hiding and didn’t want to chance it. Jenn, who had never seen or heard a bomb go off had an exaggerated fear of it and worried that an explosion would cause an earthquake or move the stars out of alignment.
Mike was torn. On one hand, the idea there were homemade bombs on his boat made his stomach, when it wasn’t growling in hunger, feel greasy with a low running fear. As much as he thought Jillybean had an almost alien genius, he still didn’t trust the bombs and worried that they might go off if they hit a wave wrong. On the other hand, he was secretly dying to see what a real bomb could do. He felt a weird electric excitement at the idea that he couldn’t suppress.
Grinning like the teenager he said, “I do, please.”
“What do you want to blow up?” she asked, just as eagerly.
“You decide.” He had no idea what sort of power the bombs had. They were only a foot or so long and as fat around as his wrist. As much as he would have liked, he was sure they weren’t going to bring down a building, which would’ve been pretty awesome.
Jillybean chose something much smaller: the remains of a sailboat sitting on a stubby cement pier. It had been in for a repair at the beginning of the apocalypse and had fallen from its supports sometime during the mad rush to flee the city. Someone had heaved it over to get a look at the damage and now a ragged hole, like a seven foot eye, gazed up at the sky. The whole thing sagged like a wet cardboard box that was falling in on itself.
With Mike watching through the hole, she placed the pipe bomb on a little table in the cabin, flicked on the radio receiver and crawled out, grinning, her restless eyes, dark with glee. Eve wanted this, too. She craved it and wanted to be as close to the explosion as possible, but in this Jillybean overruled her and the four squatted down in someone’s living room, seven houses away.
The explosion was exhilarating and amazingly loud. Mike felt the noise not just in his ears, but also in his chest as the air pulsed, washing over him with a warm wind. Visually, it was over too quickly to be as visceral. There was a shock of white light, followed by smoke and a rain of debris, some of which fell in front of them or tinged off the walls.
With some hesitation, they came out to inspect the damage, which was very large for so small a bomb, at least in Jenn’s opinion. But she was no great sailor and didn’t realize just how fragile sailboats actually were. This one had been on the verge of disintegrating even before the explosion which had torn the boat in two.
While the others marveled over this, Jillybean went in search of shrapnel, trying to ascertain the mean distance at which the bomb could have killed.
“That was cool,” Mike said. “Can we eat now?”
He had actually been asking the group, however Jillybean murmured an absent, “Sure, we’ll get that going. I just need a few more things first.” She needed acid to make her batteries. Oddly enough, she needed depleted batteries as well, since they were already the perfect size and shape for her needs. “And if you see a sporting goods store, I’m going to need all the water filters they have. Don’t forget to check in the back. Oh, and water bladders. It’ll all be in the camping section.”
“Sporting goods?” Mike asked, dubiously. The waterfront community was surrounded by an industrial area, crisscrossed by train tracks. “Where on earth are we going to find…
She wasn’t listening. With the tip of her tongue just poking out, she was measuring and calculating. Even if she had been listening, Stu knew what she would’ve said— I’m sure you’ll figure something out. He shook his head, saying, “Jenn will get breakfast going and watch over Jillybean, while Mike and I get what’s on the list.”
They were back in two hours, drawn along faster than was prudent by the smell of the fire and cooking fish. Behind them they lugged two handcarts.
The acid had been the easiest find—three blocks away from the docks had been a business that made joint compounds. Stu didn’t know what joint compounds were but the danger sign near the front door warning that there were acids inside was obvious.
The water purifiers were more difficult to find since they weren’t well acquainted with that part of the city. Eventually they found a big box sporting goods store that had been mostly stripped. They found only seven water purifiers; three of which were dinky little things that could only filter a quart of water at a time. The other four were worked by hand pumps and cleaned water for as long as someone worked the pump.
The purifiers fit in a single box and the acid in two. The carts were needed for the water bladders that they also found in the sporting goods store. They were heavy rubber or plastic, Stu didn’t know which, and could hold up to twenty gallons.
Jillybean had already eaten and was pacing, trying not to worry about the black flies that were beginning to worry the edges of her vision. The last of her medicine was slowly leaving her system and now these distracting flies were zipping
around her, yet when she turned her head, there’d be nothing. She had also begun to hear whispers. Some were the obvious ones: Eve, Sadie or the dark thing that never let itself be seen, but most were tiny mouse whispers. These always came from behind her.
These hallucinations, unnerving as they were, were also totally expected. Jillybean knew her affliction and she thought she was in control, but Jenn, who was across the fire from her didn’t think so at all. Jenn had never seen her so twitchy or wild-eyed. She tried to speak to Jillybean in a soothing tone, but couldn’t think of anything to talk about; nothing satisfying at least and nothing that would last more than a minute or two.
The two were infinitely relieved when the men showed up. Jillybean threw herself into working on the batteries, talking to herself—mostly about the project, but sometimes, in snippets. Eve would harangue her or Sadie would make a joke or try to bat her eyes at Stu.
When this happened Jillybean would try to laugh it off or say something like: “Anode, cathode, electrolyte solution; what could be easier?” It was her way of covering for the slip.
While she struggled with her sanity, the others loaded the ship so that now the deck was stacked with boxes and was harder to maneuver. Well, slightly harder. Mike was so at ease on a boat that he steered them out of the cove while dancing around the boxes and eating his breakfast, all at once.
After Stu had eaten what felt like a pound of roasted halibut, he and Jenn set out the poles once more and then, as they had nothing to do, he asked Jillybean if they should start filling the water bladders.
“With salt water? Or are you asking to use the purifiers? The answer is no, either way. When we reach the lower section of the Sacramento River, we’ll fill them on that stretch. If you want to make yourself useful you can go through the IV fluids and throw out any with a murky look to them.”
This kept him busy until they reached the Sacramento River in the early afternoon. Then came the monotonous and laborious chore of hauling water out of the river in buckets, running it through the hand pumps and into the bladders. They had filled fifteen of them and Jenn’s arms felt as though they were lead when they came to a deep water channel that cut a straight shot to the city.
“Sorry, but from here out the water should be double filtered.” When the three groaned at this, Jillybean’s eyes flashed. “Then drink it and die! Go ahead! You’ll be crapping your intestines out onto the floor by tonight.”
She was so loud that crows on the near bank lurched into the air, cawing bitterly. Although it was Jillybean yelling, she was the one who looked as though she’d been slapped. “I’m sorry about that. I really didn’t mean it. It was Eve…”
Jenn barely heard. She was counting crows—one by one, six had flown off. Everyone knew it meant death was coming. “But they weren’t in a line. At least they weren’t in a line.” Six crows in a line was the worst of all. Her heart was just starting to slow when they caught up to the crows again, sitting on a fence that ran along the edge of the waterway. They were wing to wing, all in a line.
She was still staring, her mouth hanging open when there came a thump from the front of the boat. Jenn smelled the sour rot in the air before she saw the putrefied corpse. It was the first of many, many corpses.
Chapter 19
Not counting the zombies that splashed in fits towards them, Mike counted a hundred and thirty decomposing bodies as they progressed up the canal.
They had all been human when they died or so he judged by their smaller size. This didn’t make them any less horrible. The water had bloated them and the river rats had gorged on them, gnawing away their faces. Even the birds feasted. Above them turkey vultures wheeled in great circles, while on the water, gulls screeched and fought each other over tidbits or sat full and contented on the corpses.
Many of the bodies had been in the stagnant water for weeks and had reeking clouds surrounding them and it was all Mike could do to steer the Saber around them. When he couldn’t avoid them, the bodies would frequently split open, erupting in a gush of decayed innards that let off revolting vapors that shimmered in the late afternoon light.
This hit everyone hard, but the worst affected by far, was Jillybean. The slowly fading jaundice combined with her nausea turned her face a particular shade of mint green. She began muttering curses under her breath every time they struck another body. There was no getting past it, Jillybean was, minute by minute, disappearing.
“We’re going to need her back,” Mike said in a low whisper when the sun was sitting on the far horizon. “Without her there’s no point of even going on.”
Mike had been too loud for Eve’s quick ears. Wearing a sly smile, she turned to the teen. “I’ll let her out when the time comes. Don’t worry, she’ll make everything right with these morons. If there are any of them left alive.” She sneered at one of the corpses. “That one deserves what he got if you ask me. Drinking crap-water, what an idiot.”
“That sure is a pretty sunset,” Stu remarked, leaning back against the rail, his long legs stuck out in front of him. He looked and spoke as if the last minute hadn’t occurred. “I like this mountain view.”
Suspicion erased Eve’s sly smile. “Yeah, it’s great, what’s your point? Are you going to try to sweet talk Jillybean out of me? Do you think her love will percolate right to the surface? Sorry, cowboy, she doesn’t love you.”
“What does she feel about me?” Stu honestly didn’t know. For the last eleven days since they had returned to the bay area, when they hadn’t been busy fighting for their lives, the two had rarely been alone and when they had been, they tiptoed all around the question.
Eve was just about to make a snide comment; she even drew in a long breath to ensure she could get it all out because it was going to be a cut you down to size doozy that would leave Stu utterly emasculated. Then she thought better of it. Name-calling was fun but she knew a better way to cause pain. She let the question sneak past all the seething rage and go deep. In moments, Jillybean emerged, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. The question had echoed on and on, waking her from the darkest depths.
She dropped her eyes. “That’s not something I wish to discuss.” She said this, fully expecting Stu not to respond. He was, after all the quietest person she had ever met.
His face went hard and he did not reply, however, Jenn did. “Why not? You obviously like him. We all see it. It’s not a secret. And, he likes you right back. Wouldn’t it be best to clear the air?”
“Perhaps you would like to start,” Jillybean replied, nodding her head toward Mike. Having the tables turned on her so quickly stunned the girl into silence. Calmly and with extreme self-assurance, Jillybean then turned to Mike. “What about you?” As she had guessed, the one person who always seemed utterly fearless in any situation was too afraid to answer.
Jillybean said, in a low voice, “That’s what I thought. I’m going below for a few minutes. I think I want to be alone.”
She had only taken one step down into the hold when Stu spoke. “I see you didn’t ask me.” Her foot stopped in midair; her head was down and she wouldn’t look up as he went on, “I do like you. You’re smart, beautiful and giving. You care about people and you care about doing the right thing. And if you’re worried about your past, don’t. I don’t care about your past.”
“It’s not the past you have to worry about,” she whispered without looking at him. She went down into the hold and did not come up until they reached the bend in the channel where the people of Sacramento had built their stronghold in a warehouse.
At some point, Jenn brought her a chunk of salmon she had caught before they had reached the canal. Jillybean didn’t remember eating it, but as she walked onto the deck she saw the empty plate and figured that Eve or Sadie had eaten it. One of them must have snuck out of her mind as she had meditated.
It was full dark when they came to the warehouse. No one said a word; they just stood stiff as boards, looking at Jillybean intently, trying to see who it was runn
ing her body. For the moment she was in charge, but she was worried it wouldn’t last. The twitches were back, her right eyelid doing a dance, up and down.
“I don’t think we’ll need those,” she said. The other three were wrapped in their ghillie suits. “Keep the guns. Jenn, how’s the head?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Then carry my med bag, please. I’ll carry the gun. I advise that no one touch anything. If you…”
Jenn hadn’t reached for the med bag. She was shaking her head. “Sorry, but I think I should have the gun. No offense. It-It just seems to make sense.”
“Hey, can we wear those surgery masks now?” Mike asked when Jillybean’s teeth snapped together. “You know, because of the smell?” The stench of rotting corpses had multiplied to an unholy degree.
Petulant Eve roared out in hate at not being able to get a gun, and Jillybean was shaky as she replied, “Um, yes, of course. They might also lend an air of authority.” The masks could do only so much to help against the smell which had them breathing in short, tainted gasps.
Before they slid up to the cement pier, Mike rigged out a mooring buoy using their anchor and a life vest. Since they weren’t about to swim the thirty feet to the pier, he ran a circle of rope through a loop in the buoy and after they were safe on the pier, he simply pulled the boat away as if it were on a conveyor belt. They could retrieve the boat in the same manner at any time.
“Remember, let me do the talking,” Jillybean said. They all agreed in whispers just in case there were zombies nearby attracted by the smell. It seemed likely, as the city was flooded with the dead, who sent up a persistent wail that came to the four of them like waves, rising and falling.
Generation Z_The Queen of the Dead Page 18