“Yeah but…they could stay there for hours.” Paul turned to her, eyes widening. “How long can you tread water?”
She blinked back. “At the lake on Joe’s boat, maybe an hour.” Her eyes flicked back to Mike & Molly. “Out here, knowing I’ll drown if I stop? Maybe ten minutes.” She wrapped an arm around Paul’s neck. “My legs are already feeling it and this water is so cold.”
Gently rising and falling with each small swell, he watched the man watch him back. “Did you see him throw your surfboard out of the water?”
“I was too busy swimming away.”
“He purposely threw it out of our reach.” His gaze met hers, mental gears slowly clicking into place. “This really isn’t good.”
“What do we do now?”
He looked to the narrow beach house in the distance, struggling to catch his breath. “At this point, I’d suggest we start panicking.” Screaming for Curtis and Stephanie at the top of his lungs, Paul waved his arms over his head like he was shipwrecked on a deserted island and down to his last bottle of rum. Wendy joined in the panic, inciting the corpses into a full blown riot. Outside of the three horses, there was zero movement back at the house. A cramp pinched Paul’s side, tightening his jaw and cutting off his air. “Okay, we have to go closer until I can touch bottom or we’re going to drown. I can’t do this much longer; too many margaritas last night.”
Wendy frowned. “Closer? That’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I was thinking. Let’s swim down the shoreline and see if they give up and leave.”
“We can’t risk wasting the energy. If it doesn’t work, we won’t last much longer in this deep water.” He clenched his teeth against the shooting pain in his side. “I’ve got a bad cramp and have to get closer.”
Teeth chattering, she faintly nodded. “Okay.”
Paul wrapped an arm around her waist and waded closer to the dead things standing between them and their guns. If they had any chance of making a break for the weapons, they would have to cover as little ground as possible. Paul’s toes hit sand and his entire body expelled a huge sigh of relief, muscles relaxing as he greedily filled his lungs. With the water’s surface bobbing around his chin, Wendy clung to him, unable to touch.
“Look at the size of that guy,” Paul panted. “He must’ve eaten the entire town.”
“And he’s still hungry.”
After a few seconds of quiet deliberation, the verdict was in. The big man came closer, wading through the water with outstretched hands.
“Oh crap.”
“Relax.” Paul curled his toes into the packed sand. “He can’t come in this deep.”
“He’s taller than you are, Paul!”
Taking a small step back on his tip-toes, water slipped into his mouth as the corpse crept closer. “Damn.” Paul took another step and tipped his head back to breathe through his nose. The cuts and sores in the man’s twisted face grew clearer. His hands bigger. Teeth sharper. Wendy tightened her hold around Paul’s neck, blocking his airflow. She screamed when the thing lunged. Long fingers just missed their faces as Paul pushed off the sandy bottom and sinuously back floated away. The man screamed and pounded the water with meaty fists while Paul and Wendy quickly found themselves back at square one: treading water with nothing to hang onto.
The husband backed up a few steps and waited, wife gravitating to his side.
“Can you believe this shit?” Paul kicked to stay afloat. “I told you this surfing thing was a bad idea.”
“Oh, now it’s my fault?”
“I should’ve kept my fucking gun on. Fuck!”
“Do guns even work underwater?”
“I have no idea,” he said, wincing as a stabbing pain shot through his side. The short-lived rest on land recharged his energy banks but wouldn’t last long. Already drained from an eventful day, time was running out. He dragged in a deep breath. The man and woman reminded him of the decaying passengers who fell from the cruise ship to the beach. That undead crew was just as eager to get to Wavy Gravy as these two now. But at least they couldn’t swim.
Yet.
The beach house was still quiet but that didn’t stop Paul from letting go of Wendy and trying again, recklessly burning through his energy supply.
Wendy yelled until she was red in the face because this was the end and Paul could barely hear her over the waves and wind and there was no way anyone could hear them from inside the house. Especially with the hurricane-proof glass between them. Spinning in the water, he frantically searched for something to swim to. Something to grab.
An oil rig.
A rusty buoy.
Something!
But the only thing between them and the horizon was an endless sheet of glistening glass. Paul’s legs ached and his side pinched. He would have to make a move, and soon, or he’d never get the chance. He’d rather take the two corpses on hand-to-hand than simply drown. Who knows? He might get lucky, like he did with the black kid.
Wendy shrieked and grabbed onto him, pulling him under the water.
Paul saw bubbles and with a quick thrust of his legs, shot back up and wiped water from his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Something just bumped against me,” she whispered, hanging from his neck and scanning the water around them.
Her warm breath washed over his face in quick bursts as he did jerky circles. “Something what?!”
“Something hit my leg.”
“Are you serious? You better not be fucking with me right now, Wendy. Because this is not the time.”
“I swear to God.”
“Well what was it?”
“I don’t know but it felt big and slimy.”
“Slimy?!”
She inhaled sharply and squeezed his neck way too hard. “There it was again,” she said in a guttural voice that gave him chills. “Something just ran into me.”
He twisted in circles, taking her with him and searching the water that was transparent for a few feet before turning murky. “I don’t see anything.”
“Shhh!” Wendy spun with him, nervously squinting at the shiny water around them. “It’s still here.”
Paul couldn’t see or hear anything but the sway of the ocean and their heavy breaths.
“There! It just went right past us.”
He looked down, bracing himself for impact with something unseen. “Where?”
“Didn’t you see that dark blob just swim right past us?”
“I can’t see anything!”
Wendy twisted her neck around like an owl, teeth chattering as her body temperature dropped and her fear rose. Paul was about to check on Mike & Molly when Wendy’s teeth stopped chattering and her eyes got round. “Oh my God,” she said in a cold whisper.
Spinning around, his heart skipped a major beat. With Wendy’s arms wrapped around his neck, he slowly turned with the shark fin circling them twenty yards out. “Jesus Christ,” he panted. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Oh my God oh my God oh my God,” Wendy murmured, as if speaking in a quiet voice would keep the shark from noticing them. But it was too late for that. Anyone who ever watched Shark Week knew it was standard procedure for a shark to bump its prey before sinking its rows of pointy teeth in. Wendy watched the shark, jerking her head around to the other side every few seconds.
“Wendy, you’re choking me!”
Loosening her hold just enough for Paul to draw in the sliver of a breath, he forgot all about the two things on shore because judging by the size of the dorsal fin it was something big, maybe a tiger or bull shark. He pushed the thought of a great white from his mind, too terrified to even entertain that option but, the way this day was going, nothing would surprise him.
“What do we do?”
“Just stay calm and do not panic. We’re going to be fine.” Paul glanced back to the husband and wife who stood watching.
Waiting.
Grinning.
Drooling.
It was almost like they knew
what was happening. Like they knew it was only a matter of time before Paul and Wendy had to swim to shore and when they did…those two things would be on them in a heartbeat.
He spit water out. Shark or not, they couldn’t stay here for long. If the shark didn’t get them, they’d soon drown. His legs were screaming for a break and he couldn’t support the two of them much longer. They had to get to shore and take their chances with big and bigger. Maybe he could trip the big guy up just long enough to dive for the Beretta. Maybe he could… The thought died when a black F-150 burst onto the scene, tearing across the sand and making Paul’s heart do a somersault inside his chest.
“Look!”
The tall truck bounced over fallen bodies on the beach like they were telephone poles before plowing into Mike and Molly, sending them hurtling into the water with a massive splash.
“Let’s go!” Paul towed Wendy to shore as the shark fin slid beneath the water and disappeared from sight.
He swam hard, feeling the sharp teeth tear into his flesh before it even happened. Not being able to see through the water was the worst part. The beast could be anywhere, ready to strike his legs or hands or the cramp in his side. His toes hit the bottom again and relief shot through his veins. Hurriedly, he helped Wendy stagger toward the shoreline, knowing that most shark attacks occur in less than five feet of water. His eyes circled their bodies, searching for something big and dark. A wave rolled past their legs before sucking back out to see, making it feel like they were going backwards and driving Paul insane. An agonizing moment later, they were finally free of the goddamn ocean.
Stopping in the sand, they chased their breath and watched the dead man and woman flail in the deeper water. The shark fin popped up and did a lazy circle around them before sliding beneath the surface and vanishing again. Paul and Wendy looked at each other and turned back just in time to see the woman violently jerk under. The man looked like he was trying to help her. Blood sprayed into the air like a fountain and the big guy was next to go. He fought back but not for long and in less than a minute the only thing left were bloody chunks of flesh that drew the white flying rats around them.
“Holy shit,” Paul gasped, collapsing onto the hot sand.
Curtis hopped down from the truck, wiry arms spilling from a Jack Daniels cut-off that didn’t look new. Hanging his thumbs from his jeans, he stared at the red mess just offshore. “Well, I guess now we know who wins in zombie vs. shark.”
Wendy snatched her gun from the towel, pulled it from the holster and shot into the water until the magazine clicked dry. “I never thought I’d miss being a stripper!” she barked, stomping to the pickup, climbing inside and slamming the door shut.
Curtis turned to Paul with a creased brow. “She was a stripper?”
Paul fell back onto the sand and stared at the blue sky above, too tired to speak. Every muscle in his body hurt, his heart at the front of the pack. He’d almost died three times today and was afraid of taking another step in this world. They would’ve been better off staying in Iowa and freezing their asses off for the rest of winter. He cost his wife and best friend their lives and for what? This? Blowing a long breath out, he threw an arm over his eyes to block out the sun, withdrawing into the darkness coiling behind his eyelids. In the end, it didn’t matter where they went or where they didn’t and he was a fool to think otherwise. Everywhere was poisoned. This was as good as it gets and at least they had hot showers and cold beer for their last few miserable days on this Godforsaken planet.
“What a bloodbath,” Curtis muttered.
A shadow slipped over Paul and he pulled his arm away to see Sophia standing in the sand, blocking out the sun. long dark hair flowed behind her as a breeze tickled a white dress he’d never seen. She was breathtaking and when she spoke, the sound of her voice warmed him from the inside out.
I know this is hard, Paul, but you made it here for a reason. Keep fighting.
For a moment, her words didn’t register. He was too caught up in her ethereal presence and airy voice. His eyebrows slowly dipped. “Reason?”
Sophia looked at him as if he were a child, her dress flapping violently in the wind. Floating backwards, her dead toes dangled just above the sand, oily hair hanging limply in her face. She pointed a long skeletal finger at him. Cracks slithered through her flesh and when she spoke there was an ominous tone in her voice.
This is where it all begins.
“Wait!” he cried, reaching for the dress he didn’t remember her owning. “Where what begins?”
In a slow moving vapor, she faded into the distant horizon and was gone.
“What the hell, motherfucker?” Curtis barked, slapping Paul’s hand from his jeans. “You tryin to grab my stick or somethin, man?”
Paul blinked Curtis’ silhouette into focus and pulled his hand back. “I…”
“That’s the last time I save your life.” He spit into the sand. “Fucking faggot!”
Paul watched him head for the truck and then turned back to the horizon for one last glimpse of the woman he couldn’t live without. But just like everything else, she was gone and never coming back.
Chapter Four
Starting the engine, Curtis put it in gear. “Can’t leave you two alone for five minutes without getting yourselves killed. Surfing? Really? In the world we now live in?”
“Did you see us from the house or something?” Wendy asked with water dripping from the tip of her nose.
“No.” Stepping on the gas, he peeled across the packed sand. “Stephanie told me you had some bud back on that boat so I wanted to go grab it real quick.”
Paul twisted around in the passenger seat, face warping. “Are you insane? You left Cora and your sister alone with Troy to go get some bud?”
Curtis shrugged. “Basically, yeah.” The F-150 picked up speed, spraying water back into the ocean. “Don’t worry, Troy is fine but I need to get high soon or I’m going to kill someone. I can’t handle all this shit completely sober and I’m not even kidding. Sober was bad enough in the old world, but this world?” He shook his head. “Fuck that shit, man.”
“We can’t leave them alone with him, Curtis. Are you out of your mind? After you just ripped on me for going surfing, you leave your sister and Cora alone with someone who’s been bitten?”
“Relax! I said he’s fine, Hasselhoff.”
“No, he’s not. We have to go back!”
Curtis white-knuckled the wheel as beach houses and quaint shops glided past in colorful splashes. He exhaled and lowered his voice. “He actually looks better to tell you the truth.”
“Better?” Paul gasped. “There is no better after you get bit. There’s only worse, and it’s only a matter of time before he turns and tries to kill someone. What don’t you get about that?”
Curtis looked at him for a second or two before turning back to the sand. “That what happened to your wife? She turn?”
Paul sank into the seat and rubbed his face, trying to figure out how this led back to Sophia. Eventually, all roads led back to her.
“So what happened? You just let her wander off with a pack of dead heads?”
He didn’t answer.
Curtis’ eyebrows went up. “You shot her?”
“Of course he did, Curtis,” Wendy snapped, leaning between them. “She tried to kill him which is why we should go back! I hate to say it, but Troy is about to…”
“We’re not going back!” Curtis pounded the wheel. “Steph has a gun and this won’t take long and I had to get out of that fucking house for a few minutes. Okay? So just shut the fuck up and enjoy the view.” Rubbing his tongue over his front teeth, he shook his head and got into the gas. “Fuck!” He pounded the wheel again and grew quiet, clenching his teeth so tightly Paul thought they would splinter. Curtis was a ticking time bomb and Paul didn’t blame him. He remembered watching Sophia slowly shrivel away and cringed when he thought of how he threatened to kill Dan if he didn’t stop talking. Curtis was like that now.
Hostile.
Dangerous.
Paul ran a hand through his wet hair and stared straight ahead, his mind trying to wrap itself around something entirely too big for one man to handle. He’d cheated death three times today and maybe Wendy was right. Maybe something was keeping them alive and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Sometimes he was glad Sophia was dead. “Those two were working together to keep us from getting to our guns.”
Curtis turned to him. “Who?”
“They wouldn’t let us get out of the water.”
Curtis looked back to the stretch of beach unraveling before them. “Working together? What do you mean? Like velociraptors?”
Paul arched an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, Curtis, like velociraptors.”
“Bullshit, those stragglers are just as dumb as they are in the movies.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, and I’d stay away from the fat ones because they’re super fast.”
Curtis glanced at Wendy in the rearview mirror. “Oh, you don’t gotta tell me, sweetheart. We came across our fair share on the way down from KC.” He rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is that anyway?”
“Probably a muscle mass thing,” Paul replied. “Their fat is deteriorating first and their muscles are lasting longer than the skinnier corpses.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know, Curtis. Do I look like a scientist to you? All we know for sure is the fat ones are fast and all of them – to a small degree – seem to, somehow, be regaining some of their cognitive ability.”
“Now you sound like a scientist.” Curtis shook his head. “I just wish we could find someone with a cure, someone who could fix this.” A forlorn sigh squeaked past his lips as he stared straight ahead through faraway eyes.
The truck’s air-conditioning pimpled Paul’s skin and he couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened and what it meant for them down the road.
Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine Page 3