by Steve Wands
“Maybe you guys shouldn’t be drinking then?”
“Chuck, just get us the fuck out of here, okay?”
“I’m sorry, but you guys are getting all worked up, and the last thing I need on my boat is a bunch of angry drunks.”
“Nobody’s drunk yet.”
“Speak for yourself,” Judy said, tipping back her glass.
52 A DEAD CITY BY THE SEA
(back to top)
The statue of liberty stood tall against the cool darkness. As Scott stared out at it he could imagine a tear rolling down her face and her feet bathed in blood. Just as dark, but not nearly as tall was Ellis Island. Lower Manhattan was nothing but shadows. Battery Park looked as quite as a graveyard. The Staten Island ferries were nowhere to be seen, and there were no passengers waiting to board.
Governor’s Island seemed to have some sort of fires burning, and there was no shortage of boats docked around it.
“What’s that place?” Chuck asked.
“Governor’s Island.”
“What is it though?”
“It was a military base for the longest time—army and coast guard I think—then they started turning it into a national park.”
“Man, that would be a great place to hold up.”
“Yeah, but look. Fires or lights…something. I think there are probably a few survivors over there already. Probably even military.”
“Even better.”
“I don’t think so, Chuck. Whoever’s over there is probably looking to protect their claim. We’re better off sticking to our plan. Less people up north, and less problems.”
“Surely others have gone north as well.”
“No doubt. Want to put it up to a vote?”
“Guys? Anyone wanna weigh in?”
“Let’s keep going,” Eddie said.
“Can’t hurt to check it out.”
“North.”
“Ditto.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Want to bring the matter downstairs?”
“Nah, fuck it. You’re right. Let’s stick to the plan. Get as far away as we can.”
“Anyone disagree?”
“No, but it can’t hurt to take us a little closer could it?
“Not at all,” Chuck said, course correcting to bring the boat closer to the island.
“It’s pretty fucked up seeing the city like this. I wonder if TC looked the same way, ya know, before it was blown to shit.”
“I think everywhere looks like this. Maybe it’s just making an impact because the city was always alive with lights, and now they’re all gone. Just hits a little harder I guess.”
“You might be right.”
“Hey Scott, there’s a shower downstairs, right?”
“Sure is.”
“You know if there’s a line?”
“Probably.”
“I wanna get this fucking blood off of me.”
“I bet. I’m just too exhausted to get up. My legs are jelly.”
“Weren’t you into hiking and shit?”
“Hiking, walking, biking. All that. But it’s different when you’re not eating right. Or drinking right.”
“This is the best I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think the homeless eat better than we do. Or at least did.”
“Hey, guys, take a look. I don’t want to go in any closer.”
They all stood up and looked over at Governor’s Island. There were a few fires burning in the distance, but none close enough to determine their cause.
“Could be bonfires.”
“Maybe they’re burning the dead—cleaning up the island.”
“Could be anything.”
“Do you see anyone?”
“Over there, by the water.”
“Where—never mind—those look like deaders coming out of the water.”
“Fuck, they are.”
“No. Not those. Look, walking toward the deaders.”
Then automatic rifle fire filled the air and small bursts of muzzle flashes lit the night sky.
“Yup. Someone’s on the island. And they got firepower.”
“If that’s the army, why the fuck aren’t they out helping survivors?”
“Want to go ask them?”
“Fuck no.”
“So we gonna keep going.”
“Onward Captain.”
Eddie stared at the forms on the island. He knew they could see them. They were standing there, watching, as they cruised away.
“They can see us. If they wanted to help us, all they would have to do is yell out.”
“They’d probably use those guns on us, if we got too close.”
“We’ll never know.”
Chuck followed the coastline of Staten Island. Staying close enough to feed his curiosity but far enough away to avoid any potential hazards.
In the cabin, Dawn and Alexis had decided to start bathing the kids. They took their dirty clothes and soaked them in the sink with shampoo, trying to wash them as best they could. There were plenty of t-shirts to go around and though large they were just fine for the kids to wear till they’re clothes could be dried.
Alexis made them all brush their teeth. Not having many toothbrushes they all shared one. She hid this fact from them so they wouldn’t complain about cooties or some such.
Frankie had made his way down and in the bright light of the cabin he could see how filthy he truly was. Especially when contrasted against the others, most of which had all showered and changed into new clothes.
When he stood in front of the mirror he noticed how large his beard had grown and how dark the circles around his eyes were. He noticed how dark his skin looked and couldn’t tell whether it was from being dirty or from how much sun he’d been getting. And then he saw how much blood was on his hands and arms and clothes. It looked almost like he stuck his arms into large buckets of paint.
53 JUST ONE MORE DAY
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Davis did in fact have a small arsenal stockpiled in his home, which was nearly secured as well as the Caulfield’s.
“This is one hell of a collection, Sheriff.”
“No more Sheriff, all right? Please.”
“So, Bruce, how the hell did you get all these guns?”
“Some I’ve bought over the years, but most of these were recent acquisitions. Once martial law was declared. I cherry-picked some of these out of the armory, and some out of the confiscated arms we’re supposed to turn over to the feds once a year. Feds are gonna have to wait,” Davis said.
“I reckon they will,” Walter nodded.
“Barbara make a decent shot?”
“Shoots a lot better than Jeff, that’s for sure, probably better than me too, but she doesn’t have to deal with arthritis.”
“Well, grab whatever you think they can handle the best. I’m set with these,” Davis said, hoisting up two police-issued shotguns.
“Hey Bruce, I think you had a good idea with walling off the town, but maybe it was too big too fast, ya know? Maybe if there’s enough of us left in town we can start small. Start with a building, maybe a street…”
“Maybe. Right now, I’m going to start with the station. Honestly I just want to kill as many of those things as I can. I don’t know if there’s anyone left besides us so maybe we can talk about this later.”
“Sure thing. I just wanted to think out loud.”
“And Walter, thanks for going out scouting for folks. If there were more people like you and your family we might actually stand a chance of surviving this shit.”
Davis locked up his house as Walter descended the stairs with several firearms slung over his shoulders. He handed both his kids a shotgun and handgun each, with ample ammunition for all. He kept an assault rifle for himself.
They drove back to the station and once they got closer the dead had scattered through the streets. Mostly they stayed together, almost like a pack, but some had splintered of
f. Others even went in the opposite direction.
Davis pulled over to one side, and Walter the other.
“Spread out and watch your fire. Slow and steady, okay?”
Walter nodded, stepping out of the truck and carrying his rifle at hip level, its weight felt good in his hands and reminded him of his younger years.
They walked down the street, spread out and one by one took down the deaders as they approached. The deaders moved slowly, some dragging broken limbs, other dragging their intestines along the street. Some moved with twisted ankles and limbs bent at unnatural angles.
The shotgun blasts roared like beasts and rifle fire cracked like thunder. The dead dropped to the ground, landing in writhing twitching messes. At closer range the shotguns reduced whole heads to red mist.
Soon the street, and the path to the station were covered in gore and blood.
Jones, Keith, and Clem had all been killed a second time, their bodies lay in the street like the others, twitching, trying to come back again.
“Come on, everybody in. It’s clear.”
“Damn, this place is a mess,” Jeff said.
“It’s not that bad. Just the path to the back is pretty nasty. Everything else is okay. Gonna have to board up those front doors though.”
“So what now?” Walter asked.
“Now, we’re done. It just hit me how exhausted and hungry I am. I’m going to go home, get some food and go to sleep.”
“What about me?” Topher asked, sounding like hell and sweating bullets.
“I told you I’d take care of you, and I will.”
“Bruce, why don’t you all come back to our house? We got plenty of food, you can sleep there and we’ll keep an eye on you. If we’re all that’s left of town, we should stick together.”
“I’m too tired to argue. Danni, whattya say? Want to stick with us?”
“Yes. I have nowhere else to go. Thank you.”
“Sure thing, kid. Bruce, maybe you want to swing back home, get some clean clothes. We’ll follow you over.”
“I can meet you there. Maybe just take--”
“No, not happening. Take your time do what you have to do and we’ll wait outside for you. Then we’ll follow you back and that’s that.”
“Thanks Walter.”
Walter nodded and turned to Danni, “Danni was it? I’m Walter. These are my kids, Jeff, and Barbara.”
“Hi…”
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
They left Davis and Topher in the station and stood in the carnage outside.
“How you feeling?”
“I feel like hell. You gonna do it now? You gonna kill me?”
“What do you want? Do you think you can make it a little longer?”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m on fire. This is awful, I tell ya.”
“I’m sure it is. Topher, listen. I don’t want to have to do this yet, so if you think you can hold out I think that’d be the best. Maybe a last meal or something? Maybe you want to down some pills and go out nice and quiet?”
“No, I want you to put a bullet in my brain. That’s the only way isn’t it?”
Davis knew different. He’d seen a good friend blow his brains out and come back for a taste of the living. But he knew Topher didn’t need to know that. He just wanted to keep the man at ease and make it as quick and painless as he could. “Yeah, that’s the only way to stay dead.”
“Then that’s how I want it. I don’t want to come back.”
“Okay. Let’s get out of here, maybe take the edge off with a little Jack?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Topher started walking for the door.
“I’ll be right behind ya, gonna grab a set of walkies.”
Topher kept on walking. He opened the door, seeing the others walking over to the vehicles down the street. He turned to look down the other side of the street and could see the sun sagging low in the sky. It looked nice, there was a lot of blue, but some of the sunset colors were starting to come out. One more day, I can make it one more day. Just long enough to see another sunrise. I can do it…I can—
Davis blew his brains out of the front of his head, annihilating his last thought. Topher crumpled to the ground. Davis fired a few more times till all that was left of Topher’s head resembled a rotting pomegranate.
54 FADING LIGHT
(back to top)
By now everyone but Chuck and Janice had showered. Janice didn’t want to risk the safety of the others by doing so and no one argued with her. Even her sons didn’t see the point. She was practically dead and could care less about how dirty she was.
Chuck just didn’t want to have anyone else take the helm and potentially ruin what was becoming a pretty smooth trip.
Aside from the chill in the air, and eerily adrift vessels strewn about the Atlantic as if haphazardly thrown around by a child in a bathtub, it had been almost relaxing. They weren’t running, being chased down by deaders, at the mercy of strangers, or travelling alongside a murderer.
The cigars had long ago been smoked to stubs and tossed overboard, but the scent still lingered. In Florida, Chuck spent a lot of time on boats. Almost always drinking. Sometimes fishing, sometimes partying, and sometimes doing other things. He loved the water. Felt at home on it. Loved the relaxing rhythms of its waves.
The soothing movements rocked everyone in the cabin to sleep except for Frankie. He was awake. In some yuppies clothes—clean clothes, however—and watching everyone else sleep. He was trying to come to terms with what his life was now. And tried to see ahead at what it could be. Aside from his best friend and his family, everything he loved was dead. It only recently began to sink in.
Maybe things would be different further up the coast. Maybe they would find a place in the world that still had a heartbeat.
Maybe there’s something still ahead to live for…
Eventually his thoughts led to sleep and his body fell to the side, leaning against Abdul who fell asleep only moments before.
Topside, Eddie and Joseph sat with their mother, trying their best to comfort one another. While Scott and Judy sat bundled up with a fleece throw over their shoulders.
Chung-Hee hung around Scott, watching how he worked the ship and asking questions the whole while. It was clear to both of them what he was doing and why and Chuck was more than happy to answer his questions. He offered Chung-Hee the chance to pilot it for a while, but he declined.
“You keep doing it, I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“Don’t worry about that. In a lot of ways the water is more forgiving than the roadways.”
“Nah, it’s okay, man. Maybe later. I think I’m going to go shower anyway.”
“Suit yourself.”
Once Chung-Hee stepped into the cabin he couldn’t help but chuckle. Everyone was passed out and at least two people were snoring obscenely loudly. He found the light switch and dimmed it for them. He noticed everyone was wearing new clothes and he looked about the room trying to determine where they came from. He decided to look through what cabinets he could and found a pair of flannel pajama pants and a long sleeved thermal shirt.
“Good enough,” he mumbled to himself and headed for the bathroom.
The night was clear and quiet. The moon shimmered on the water. Chuck stared into the distance and felt like he was staring into a void. Aside from the moon and the stars, there was nothing but darkness all around.
Judy fell asleep, her cheek pressed against Scott’s chest. He pulled her close, making sure the fleece throw was wrapped tightly to her. He kept his eye on Chuck to make sure he wasn’t falling asleep and kept his eyes on Janice to make sure she wasn’t turning into one of the deaders.
His gaze fell on Eddie and Joseph. Two brothers who had been as tough as nails from the moment they met. Yet there they sat, distraught, broken, holding on to their mother as she slipped away into what Scott could only imagine as being a cold unforgiving darkness. Scott kn
ew death—at least he thought he did—and the bodies he prepared for burial were always cold, as cold as ice sometimes, and devoid of any light. The eyes just didn’t shine the same way in the light; even fingernails seemed to lose their sheen.
He could offer no words of solace. No sentiments to help ease the pain and lessen the grief. Maybe after all was said and done, but not now, all he could do now was witness it and stay alert.
Yussef slept uncomfortably. He shifted and spun, waking and falling back to sleep. He felt nauseous and was sweaty. He scratched at his lower leg, making bleed a small scratch he had no idea he’d gotten when Janice pulled him away from the deader on the bridge. Everyone else slept peacefully, undisturbed by his restlessness, but his restlessness only grew and so did the darkness inside him.
55 WISHFUL THINKING
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At the Caulfield’s, after Davis and Danni had cleaned up and put fresh clothes on, they sat down for dinner. It was clear that the two guests were famished as they barely spoke a word, scarfing down as much food as possible. When there was no more food left, Davis sat back and smiled.
“Mrs. Caulfield, that was superb.”
“Thank you, Bruce. Anyone want coffee.”
Everyone said, “Yes.”
There was some small talk, some big talk, and many interruptions from the children. Aside from deaders, it was the first time Danni had seen living children since the first days. There was a dark situation when she took refuge with Clem and his wife, involving their granddaughter, but she couldn’t blame them for keeping her.
She found the Caulfield children’s smiles and laughter otherworldly. It was as if they had no concept of what was happening to the world in which they lived. She envied their ignorance, and their happiness even more so. Despite the loss of Clem, another tragic casualty in the day-to-day survival against the dead, she was happy to be here. Happy to be alive and surrounded by good people.