Water

by William Esmont

  Megan found Hines at Chris’s side in the sick bay. The stern man sat in a straight-backed wooden chair with his hands clasped together and his head bowed. Chris’s eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell steadily under the crisp white sheet.

  Hines glanced up when Megan’s shoes squeaked on the deck. “Hey,” he mouthed.

  Megan stepped through the doorway and smiled. “Hey, yourself.”

  Hines stood and, with quick, silent steps, crossed the room to the door. He put his hand on Megan’s elbow and guided her back into the hallway.

  “How are you doing?” he asked as he fished in his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes and his lighter.

  Megan squared her shoulders, which caused her to grimace. “I’ll survive.” She inclined her head toward Chris. “And him?”

  Hines lit up, took a long drag, and blew a stream of acrid blue smoke toward the ceiling where it swirled like fog in the damp, listless air. “He’s sedated right now, but it sounds like he’ll be fine. He’s got a light concussion. Lots of bruises.” He puffed on the cigarette again. “The doc wants to keep him here overnight to check for internal bleeding.” He turned away and flicked ashes to the floor.

  Megan took him in her arms. Tears welled in her eyes, a bitter mixture of pain from her injury and sadness at the loss of life they had suffered.

  Hines hugged her then pulled away. “We’ll have a service this evening. I already spoke with Cecil.”

  Megan nodded. Cecil Biram, a former rabbinical student from Cincinnati, had graciously taken on the duties of chaplain and spiritual confidante to the myriad of religious faiths on the Gulf Star. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  Hines took another drag on his cigarette and flicked more ashes on the floor. “I’ve had better days.”

  Megan gave him a thin smile.

  Hines glanced over his shoulder at Chris. “At least he’s okay. I… I don’t know what I would have done…” He brought his cigarette to his mouth and took another pull then dropped the still-burning butt to the floor and crushed it out under his shoe.

  “I understand,” Megan said.

  Hines opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else then closed it and looked away.

  Megan took his hand. “It’s okay, Marlon. You can say it.”

  Hines glanced both ways down the hallway, as if checking to see if they were alone. “It’s just… I’ve never loved anyone like I love Chris. Not even my wife.” He crossed himself. “Things were different with her, you know?” His eyes bored into her, imploring. “You have to understand… I always knew, from the very beginning. But times were different then. I had a career. Mouths to feed. I couldn’t just…”

  With a quick squeeze of his hand, Megan said, “It’s okay.” She chose her next words carefully. “We’re not the same people as before—none of us. Your wife, wherever she is now, I’m sure she would be happy for you.”

  A smile formed at the edges of his mouth. He ran a hand over his bald dome. “Stella was one of a kind.” He sniffled. “You would’ve liked her.”

  “I’m sure. She was a lucky woman.” Megan chose not to press Hines on the mention of his family, assuming they had all perished in the uprising.

  He chuckled. “I’m not so sure about that. I can be a real prick sometimes. But she stayed by my side through all the bullshit I put her through. God rest her soul.”

  Sensing Hines was once again regaining his composure, Megan gave his hand another quick squeeze before letting go. “You’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll muddle through. Don’t I always?”

  Megan laughed softly. “Don’t we all?”

  Hines fished another cigarette from his pack but didn’t light it. “Have you been up to the radio room yet?”

  Megan shook her head. “No. That was my next stop. Have you heard anything from Jack and Ben?”

  “Not yet.” He looked at his watch. “They should be checking in soon, though. I’ll let you know.”

  The ball of tension that had been building in her gut ever since Jack left grew a little bigger. “Please do.”

  Footsteps approached from behind her. She turned to see Dr. Cain headed their way, a steaming cup of instant coffee cradled in his hand.

  “Megan. Marlon,” the doctor said, stopping in front of them. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Hines answered as he lit his cigarette. “We were just catching up.”

  The doctor sipped his coffee and nodded at Megan. “Feeling any better?”

  Megan gingerly touched the area a few inches under her left breast. “Maybe a bit. The painkillers you gave me are finally kicking in.”

  “Good. Believe it or not, you guys were lucky,” the doctor said. “If you had jumped from any higher we probably wouldn’t be having his conversation.”

  “Trust me,” Megan said with a tired grin. “I have no plans to ever do that again.”

  Dr. Cain grinned. “Smart decision. You’ve used up that free pass.”

  Megan gestured at his coffee. “I could sure use one of those.”

  The doctor raised his cup. “I boiled too much water. If you get up to the galley fast, you can probably make a cup with what’s left.”

  “Thanks.” Megan looked back at Hines. “Can I do anything to help?”

  Through a cloud of smoke, Hines shook his head. “No. I think everything is under control.”

  “In that case,” Megan said, “I’m going to go see if I can find some of that coffee.”

  Five

  Coast Guard RB-M #1

  The Gulf of Mexico [29.25046,-94.392242]

  Jack awoke with a start. He had long ago honed his ability to take catnaps in the most unusual and uncomfortable of places. “We there?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the bench.

  “Yeah,” Ben said from his position at the controls. “We’re here.”

  Jack struggled to his feet and stretched. His joints popped audibly, drawing a snicker and a wisecrack from Ben: “The old man riseth.”

  “Just you wait,” Jack said with a groan. “Your day’ll come.”

  Smirking, Ben called in their status to the radio room on the Gulf Star before grabbing a pair of heavy-duty binoculars and heading for the cabin door. “Let’s do this.”

  Jack followed him outside, still working the kinks out of his muscles. Luke and Tinsley were already waiting.

  “She looks pretty beat up,” Tinsley said, nodding at the bright orange lifeboat. “How do you think he got all the way out here?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out,” Jack said. He turned to Ben, who was surveying the other craft through the binoculars. “See anything?”

  “Looks clean,” Ben said. He passed the binoculars to Jack. “I only see the one guy.”

  Jack put the glasses to his eyes and focused on the lifeboat. Around thirty feet long, the vessel was of the same make and model as the one he had seen on the deck of the container ship earlier that morning. To him, the lifeboat looked more like a submarine with its sealed hull and tiny windows, but as Chris had explained as they had approached the container ship, that type of lifeboat was designed to be dropped from great heights in rough seas with minimal human intervention. A man stood on the deck. He wore a beard, long but not unkempt. His jet-black hair was tied back in a ponytail. Tattoos covered his shirtless torso. Jack panned slowly over the rest of the boat, searching for any evidence of other people hiding in wait. Piracy, while unlikely, was still a possibility. A semi-automatic rifle lay on the deck a few feet away from the man. The man gave a half-wave and pantomimed the boats drawing closer.

  Jack lowered the binoculars and turned to Ben. “I agree. He looks legit.”

  “Can I see?” Luke asked. Jack handed him the glasses.

  Ben reached for the door. “I’m going to take us in. Stay alert and be ready to toss over a line, okay?”

  “Will do,” Jack said, bending down and picking up a coil of rope. “Luke, Tinsley, can you
move back a little? Just in case.”

  Luke shot Jack an annoyed glare but took a step back so he wasn’t in plain view of the other boat. Tinsley followed his lead. A minute later, Ben had their craft on a course parallel to the lifeboat. When they got within five feet of the lifeboat, Jack tossed the line into the waiting hands of the tattooed man.

  With a practiced motion, the man knelt and fastened his end of the line to a cleat, drawing the boats together until they touched with a soft thump. He gave the line a tug to make sure it was tight then stood and faced Jack.

  The noise from the engines fell to a dull rumble, and Ben emerged from the cabin. Luke and Tinsley followed close behind.

  Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, the man climbed across the gap and boarded the Coast Guard boat.

  “I’m Jeremy,” he said, sticking out his hand and smiling. “I can’t believe you actually came!”

  Jack shook Jeremy’s hand. “This is Ben, Luke, and Tinsley,” he said, pointing at each of them in turn. “I’m Jack.”

  They all exchanged greetings.

  “Do you need some water? Food?” Jack asked. “We’ve got plenty.”

  Jeremy licked his cracked lips. His gaze darted around the RB-M. “Water would be great. Thanks. I’m parched.”

  Jack motioned at the cabin. “Luke, can you grab a few bottles?”

  Luke grumbled a complaint but ducked inside.

  “So you’re coming from an oil platform?” Jeremy asked, cocking his head.

  Jack hitched his thumb over his shoulder, in a westerly direction. “Yeah. The Gulf Star. She’s about fifteen miles that way. ’Bout two miles off shore.”

  Luke returned with the water and distributed bottles to everyone.

  “Thanks,” Jeremy said, twisting his cap off and draining the contents of the bottle in two quick gulps.

  Luke gave him another. Jeremy poured the fresh bottle into his oily scalp, sending water cascading down his face in dirty sheets.

  “I ran out a while ago,” Jeremy said. “I’ve been living on rainwater ever since.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jack said. “We’ve got plenty more.”

  “Yeah. We’ve got a good stash,” Ben added.

  Jeremy unscrewed the cap from the second bottle. “In that case…” He tipped the bottle back and drained it, belching when he finished.

  “Do you need some more?” Jack asked.

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. I’m good for now.” The empty bottle creaked and popped in his fist.

  “Okay,” Jack said. “I’m afraid before this goes any farther, we have to check you for bites.”

  Jeremy regarded Jack for a long moment before shrugging and dropping his shorts to his ankles.

  Jack held up a finger and twirled it, indicating for Jeremy to spin. The man complied, arms raised, turning in a slow, shuffling circle, not showing any signs of discomfort at being naked in front of strangers. Except for a jagged scar on his right hip, his skin bore no cuts or scratches.

  “That’s good,” Jack said. “Thanks. And sorry about that.”

  “Not a problem,” Jeremy said with a knowing smile. “I’d have been worried if you hadn’t asked.” He pulled his pants back up. “So what next?”

  Jack shrugged. “We’ll head back to the platform. Get you cleaned up. After that, it’s up to Major Hines.”

  Jeremy cocked an eyebrow. “Major? What? Are you guys military?”

  “No,” Jack said. “Well, Hines was Army before. He runs things on the Gulf Star, but the rest of us are civilians.”

  Jeremy relaxed visibly. “Good. I’ve had enough run-ins with military types to last a lifetime.”

  Jack suppressed a chuckle. “Haven’t we all? So what’s your story?”

  Jeremy crumpled his empty water battle into a tight ball. “It’s complicated.”

  Jack gestured at the open ocean. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  “I was in Tampa until a few weeks ago.” Jeremy’s voice was low and solemn.

  Jack exchanged a surprised look with Luke.

  Jeremy noticed and asked, “Am I missing something?”

  “Funny you should mention Tampa,” Jack said. “We found a man strapped into an ejection seat last year. The journal in his flight suit said he was from there.”

  Recognition dawned in Jeremy’s eyes. “That would’ve been Ed. Fuck! Where’d you find him?”

  “A little west of the border between Arizona and New Mexico.”

  “What the hell were you doing all the way out there?”

  Jack glanced at Luke before returning his gaze to Jeremy. “Like you said, it’s a long story.”

  “Was he…? I mean…?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, recalling the terror of the moment when the infected man had almost bitten Megan. Only the straps binding the zombie to the heavy ejection seat had saved her life. “He had turned. We put him down.”

  “Shit,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “Ed was a good guy. One of the best.”

  “He had family,” Luke said, butting into the conversation.

  “He did,” Jeremy confirmed, turning to face the teen. “A wife and a son. Jean—his wife… ah… moved on when Ed didn’t come back. We were all on the same boat out of Tampa, in fact.”

  Jeremy didn’t need to say anything more. Jack had seen firsthand what had happened to the other passengers on the MK Excelsior. He could only hope the family of the dead pilot had died quickly.

  “We’ve been thinking for awhile about putting together a mission to Tampa,” Jack said, hoping to move the conversation away from the tragedy of the dead pilot. “To find out if anyone’s still alive there.”

  Jeremy’s expression clouded over. “Don’t waste your time.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  Jeremy sighed. “We thought we were safe, holed up in MacDill Air Force Base with more guns and bullets than God, but we were only fooling ourselves, pretending we had the situation under control. The bastards just kept coming. Day and night. For every one of those goddamned things we shot, three more took its place. We… we couldn’t hold them any longer. They came over the fence like a fucking tidal wave one morning before dawn.” Jeremy looked away as if the thought pained him. When he turned back, his face was hard, unreadable. “A bunch of us got out to sea before it was too late. We were heading south, to another safe zone we had heard about.”

  Jack straightened. “A safe zone?”

  Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah. An island off the coast of the northern Yucatan—Isla Perpetua. The Mexican army used to use the place for training.” Jeremy wiped sweat from his forehead. “About eighteen months back, a boat came into Tampa Bay. It was full of people who had been living on Perpetua since the outbreak, mostly Americans, but a few others from various places. They were heading north, inland, to search for their families.”

  “Shit,” Ben muttered. “That’s suicide.”

  “That’s what we told them. North of Tampa is pretty much an irradiated wasteland, not to mention all the dead fuckers. They were insistent, though, said they’d rather die trying than not know what happened to their kinfolk.” Jeremy took a deep breath. “Anyway. They stayed for a few days and told us all about the island. It sounded ideal, protected on all sides by water. Supposedly, there was plenty of food and fresh water, and not too big yet, if you know what I mean.”

  Jack did. The larger a community became, the more likely something would go terribly wrong. “So how many of you were there?”

  Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “I’d say a little over three hundred. Most of us were on the Excelsior, but there was another boat as well.”

  Jack winced. “We know all about the Excelsior. What the hell happened there?”

  Through the open door, the radio crackled. Someone called for Ben and then for Jack.

  “We should get that,” Jack said.

  Ben excused himself and retreated to the wheelhouse.

  Jeremy gestured at his lifeboat. “I’d like t
o grab a few things before we leave. It’ll just take a minute.”

  “Do you need any help?” Jack asked.

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. I’ve got it.” With the agility of a man accustomed to life on the water, Jeremy scrambled back onto the lifeboat and vanished through an open hatch in the deck. He emerged a few moments later with a weather-beaten canvas backpack slung over his shoulder.

  Jack’s heart skipped a beat when he spied the thick spine of a paperback poking out from under the top flap of Jeremy’s pack. “Is that a book?”

  “Yeah,” Jeremy said. “I’ve got a few here. Why? Do you read?”

  Jack grinned and nodded. “I do. I’m always on the lookout for something new.”

  Jeremy untied the end of the rope secured to the empty lifeboat and quickly crossed back to the RB-M. He nudged the dead boat away with the tip of his shoe.

  Jack wanted to ask about the book, and about what else was in the pack, but he forced himself to wait. That would come later. First, he needed to know the details of how Jeremy had come to survive the horrors of the container ship.

  They all watched as the gap between the vessels increased. Then, with Luke and Tinsley in the lead, they made their way into the cabin to join Ben.

  “We’ll be home in about forty minutes,” Ben shouted as he started the motor.

  Jack allowed a small smile. Despite the tragedy of the morning, the day was proving not to be a total loss.

  Six

  Gulf Star Oil Platform

  “And now I’d like to have a moment of silence for those who lost their lives today,” Cecil said from the balcony overlooking the main deck.

  Megan bowed her head and closed her eyes. She thought of everything and nothing in particular. Of the friends she had lost today. Of the friends she had lost over the years since the first zombie had come crashing into her life. Out of all the people she had known, she was certain that most, if not all, were dead, their bodies either gone to dust or worse, still walking, hungering for all eternity. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed her arms and hugged herself, but she found no comfort.