She cut me off and told me that she wanted to be with me but didn’t know if she was ready to be intimate. Knowing what those biker assholes did to her, I understood, and let her know that. We talked quietly for a few minutes until she told me I should get some sleep and that she’d be down after her shift.
As I turned to go, she stopped me and grabbed my face in her hands, pulling me down to her. Her kiss was soft and wet. Afterwards, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wired for sound. Get some sleep…yeah, right.
DAY 43
We spent most of the day just loafing around.
Grace was sunburned and stayed below deck whining about it. I repacked the sound suppressor for my CAR-15 and honed the edge on my Spyderco. Alison spent most of the day going through the ship and repacking our supplies again. She found a bikini that looks like it was made for her and several pairs of board shorts and flip-flops for me and Albert. The shorts were a little loose on me and a little tight on Albert.
Albert spent most of the day checking over the boat and making sure she is in good shape. By the way, the name of the ship is the “Sisyphus”. I always thought that ships were named after women, but if I remember correctly, Sisyphus was a king who was punished by the Gods and forced to roll a boulder up a hill repeatedly, only to watch it roll back down each time.
Regardless, the irony of our boat’s name is not lost on me.
Nobody wants to talk about what’s next, or where we are going to go from here. We have been lucky so far. I hope it lasts.
DAY 44
Today Albert and I decided to do a little exploring in the marina. We took the dingy out and rowed toward the wrecked docks. The Coast Guard cutter was listing badly to starboard. Why the cutter had decided to ram the docks was a mystery. We could see a civilian lifeboat on the deck of the cutter and speculated that they must have brought on someone infected. We couldn’t see any signs of movement on the ship.
I guess I got lost in thought for a while because Albert finally nudged me and asked what I was staring at. I told him that I had been thinking that they probably had an armory on board with weapons and ammunition. I was pretty sure they’d have a good supply of MREs (food) as well. We agreed to board her and check it out.
We pulled alongside and I was able to just reach the lower deck. I pulled myself up and lowered a rope to Albert. I tried not to laugh as he floundered on the rope, kicking at the side of the ship helplessly. I finally reached down and helped him up. We moved toward the front of the ship
with our weapons ready. There had been a fight here. Several corpses, both civilians and Coast Guard personnel, lay on the deck, their bodies riddled with bullets.
Suddenly, we heard footsteps on the upper deck. An undead sailor leaned over the rail and wailed at us. I drew a bead on him and fired a round into his head. He dropped to the tilted deck in front of us, slid a few feet, and then lay still. Albert and I looked at each other. Going below was something neither of us was interested in doing now. It was time to get off the ship before we attracted any more attention.
As we made our way back, I noticed a body lying near the rail with a weapon slung over his shoulder. I had to roll the decomposed sailor over to get at the rifle underneath. I cut off the sling and retrieved my prize, almost puking from the smell in the process. I found a pouch containing two additional thirty-round magazines and took them as well.
We lowered ourselves back into the dingy and pushed away, eager to get back to our boat. As Albert rowed us back, I examined my new possession. It is an M-16A4, basically a newer version of the standard M-16 assault rifle.
The battery powered Aimpoint scope on the receiver was dead. I wasn’t sure if it took the same kind of battery as my reflex sights but it didn’t matter, as the weapon still has its flip-up iron sights attached. All three magazines are full which means I now have an additional eighty seven rounds of .223 ammunition.
When we got back, I told Alison what happened. This place seems tainted now. I went below to clean the M-16 and every single bullet. The elements had taken their toll and the barrel and receiver were showing signs of rust.
I had just enough materials to build another silencer and at dusk I took the rifle up on deck and fired a few suppressed rounds into the ocean. It functions well. I discovered it has the capability to fire ammo-wasting three-shot bursts. It’s good to know but I don’t think I’ll be using that feature anytime soon.
At dinner, we discussed our next move. We have all heard the moans of the undead at night. There is no doubt that Santa Barbara is infected. I think we have all come to the conclusion that staying here any longer is just delaying the inevitable.
We looked at the charts on board and agreed that Morro Bay (north up the coast) would be our next stop. Albert ended our discussion by saying he’d get us ready to set sail in the morning.
Nobody complained about standing watch tonight. Tomorrow, Sisyphus will start northward once again.
DAY 45
We pulled out of the marina before dawn.
Albert estimated Morro Bay to be roughly 130+ nautical miles north. Our trip along the coastline actually took us west for several hours. We hoisted the sails and made good time until we had to turn due north. We tacked against the wind and actually had to drop our sails and use the engine for a few hours.
At noon, we heard a jet fly overhead. We watched its contrail for a while until it began to spread out and dissipate. I guess the world is not completely dead after all. I thought about the pilot and what his life must be like now. I wonder if he saw us and is curious about the same thing.
We arrived at Morro Bay well after midnight. If not for the distinct landmark of Morro Rock, we may have passed the bay entirely. With me and Alison manning the forward floodlights, Albert navigated up the channel and into the bay itself.
We tied off on a broken-up dock next to the shore. There were several smaller boats drifting aimlessly in the water. Further along the shore we could make out another dock partially submerged. We shut everything down and Albert went to his rack, exhausted. Alison and I have agreed to split the shifts and let Albert sleep. I am sitting on the deck as I write this. It is 3 a.m. and all is well…for now.
DAY 46
This morning we ate breakfast (freeze-dried scrambled eggs and the last of our crab) up on deck.
From what we can see, the town of Morro Bay is abandoned. There is some industrial structure nearby with three towering smokestacks, a seafood restaurant (closed I’m sure), several storefronts (including a store advertising salt-water taffy), and a Coast Guard station.
Grace saw the sign for the taffy and got pretty hyper over it. Albert was all for going to check it out but Alison and I didn’t want to take such a needless risk. With her “outdoor voice” (that means be really quiet so as not to attract Them) Grace begged us for ten minutes. Alison caved in first.
I finally agreed but only under the condition that Grace (and Albert) would stay on the boat. I didn’t even want to put Alison at risk but unfortunately, chivalry is actually dead in this new world. I couldn’t afford to not have her watching my back.
We geared up and stepped onto the rickety dock. Chloe started to whine but stopped when I glared and pointed my finger at her. We made our way off the dock and into a parking lot.
The feeling of standing on solid ground was odd. As we walked across the tarmac, I noticed that the area had been abandoned in a hurry. Cars were strewn all over the roadway, their doors ajar. Buildings had windows broken and stood open for anyone to walk in.
The door to the taffy store was closed. There was a note pinned on the door. It read: “Gone to the hills. All taffy 100% off. All sales final. Good luck, God Bless.”
Alison smiled sadly. I turned the knob and the door opened easily, striking a bell hanging overhead. It tinkled musically. We froze. I heard movement and looked to my left. Thirty feet away, an undead cre
ature was crouched down in front of a parked car feeding on a dead seagull.
Its head snapped up and it looked around through blind, milky eyes. It sniffed the air inquisitively. We were down wind. Feathers stuck to its bloody face. It smacked its jaws and went back to feeding.
We quickly (and quietly) entered the building. I yanked the bell down, setting it on the floor out of the way, then closed and locked the door. It was quiet and peaceful inside. Most of the display cases were empty, but in the back room we found boxes of taffy, chocolate, and peanut brittle. One box of each was more than enough to put Grace in a sugar coma for a month.
I looked around as I stuffed them in my pack. On the wall were pictures of an older couple in various places throughout the years; fishing on a boat, hiking in the forest, at a barbeque, etc…I gathered from the captions that the couple’s names were Butch and Rita. They looked happy. I assume it was one of them that left the note on the door.
Behind the register I saw a pad of paper. I took a pen from a cup and scribbled out a note. I wrote; “To Butch and Rita, I picked up 1 box each of taffy, brittle, and chocolate. If the world ever gets back to normal, I will come back and pay for them. Thank you for your hospitality. I hope you two are together and safe.”
I signed my name at the bottom and put the note on the counter. Alison walked over and tilted her head, reading my note. She grinned at me. We went through the hallway and out the back. We quietly made our way behind the buildings and back to the dock. At one point, we heard a low moan from someone undead nearby, but didn’t see anything.
Back on the boat we decided that there is nothing else here for us. This place is truly dead. Albert pulled up our charts and told us that Monterey is a little more than 140 nautical miles north. If we can make seven knots an hour (Albert feels this is a good estimate with the current winds) we can get to our destination in eighteen hours. We will leave first thing tomorrow.
Albert spent the afternoon teaching me how to sail. I have learned how to hoist and take down a sail, how to control the two main lines (halyards and sheets), as well as a few other skills. I am by no means a sailor but at least Albert will be able to take a break once in a while without me crashing into any rocks or sinking the ship (hopefully).
DAY 47
We finally left Morro bay early this morning.
The winds were brisk and filled our sails, pushing us out into the ocean and northward. The only noteworthy event was that Chloe got into the taffy, ate it all, and then puked it up on the deck. Grace is not speaking to her (I don’t think Chloe cares). It is strange that things seem almost normal.
Twice this evening we saw lights coming from shore. It is reassuring that there may be others alive.
We arrived in Monterey just before 1:30 a.m. It has been a long day and we are all pretty wrecked. I manned the front floodlight and directed us into the bay. There was debris and wreckage floating everywhere. Twice we bumped into smaller boats. Finally we tied off in a slip made for a much larger ship than ours.
I shined the flood light up onto the wharf, but it is too dark to make out any details. Everything seems quiet. Albert fell asleep in the cockpit and was so groggy I practically had to carry him down to his bunk.
Once again, Alison and I will take turns standing watch until morning. I am a little nervous about being tied off next to such a large platform. If anything approaches us we will not be able to push away before it boards us.
My watch is over now. More tomorrow.
DAY 48
I woke up this morning curled up on the cockpit sofa.
For a moment I panicked, thinking that I had fallen asleep on my watch. I slowly recalled staying up with Alison when she took her shift, and talking until morning started to break. I looked at my watch. It read: 10:38. Alison was standing over me.
She looked at me and cringed. It dawned on me that the boat was too quiet: no scampering feet of Chloe, no humming from Grace, no Albert clomping around. I asked her what happened.
“They went exploring.” she said, and braced herself for my reaction.
I leapt to my feet, grabbing up my carbine and tactical vest. Alison put her hands on me but I shoved them away. She tried to explain that she had tried to stop Albert. I wasn’t listening. I turned and almost screamed at her, asking how she could let this happen.
She told me Albert and Grace had come up and said they wanted to explore the wharf. She told them to wait until I woke up and then went to the head. When she returned they were gone.
She immediately shook me awake.
I picked up the binoculars and scanned the wharf around us. The buildings at the edge of the pier blocked my view. I threw them down and jumped onto the dock, running up a ramp and around a large building and onto the wharf itself. I brought my weapon up, scanning the area immediately in front of me. There was a long boardwalk with shops on either side. I nearly pissed myself as I felt a hand touch my shoulder from behind. It was Alison.
I wanted to tell her to go back but didn’t trust myself to speak. I moved as quickly as I could, scanning and walking, stopping and listening, and repeating the process. Alison was on my six, her weapon up as well, just like I had taught her.
I heard a noise twenty yards in front of me and froze. Chloe came prancing out of a building, followed by Albert and Grace. They stopped when they saw us. Chloe came running up to greet me, but stopped shy, sensing I was seriously pissed. She kept her distance, but followed along as I charged toward Albert, all thoughts of safety and silence out the window.
I stopped in front of him and pushed my weapon around my back, letting it hang on its sling. “Take your damn glasses off, now!” I growled at him.
He looked at me quizzically and then removed them, holding them out for me. Without warning I drove my left fist forward, slamming it into his fat nose. His head jerked back and he hit the deck flat on his back with a thud. Grace started crying immediately. Alison picked her up and hugged her.
I turned to Alison and told her to get Grace and Chloe back to the boat. She hesitated only for a second and then complied, quietly but urgently calling for Chloe to go with her. Chloe was eager to escape my anger and left willingly. They moved a few yards back toward the boat, then stopped. I was only vaguely aware of this as I focused my wrath on Albert.
Albert sat up and shook his head. His nose was bleeding. “Get up, asshole!” I snarled.
Albert got to his feet shakily and stared at me in disbelief.
“You stupid dickhead, what the hell were you thinking?!” I continued, my voice becoming dangerously loud.
Albert touched his face. His fingers came away bloody. He looked around for his glasses and picked them up, checking to make sure they weren’t busted. As pissed as I was, I had a momentary twinge of guilt, thinking that I may have broken his only means of clear vision.
He put them back on and set his jaw.
“You don’t own me!” he blurted out. I was momentarily taken aback. Albert got on a roll and continued. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. And you just hit me. You’re supposed to be my friend.”
He stood up straighter, looking at me indignantly.
“You put us all in danger with your moronic bullshit.” I countered. Before he could respond, I continued. “You could have gotten Grace killed, not to mention my dog. You know better than to just walk around like this. Jesus, what got into you, you idiot? ”
Alison stepped between us and hissed quietly, “Stop this, both of you. Are you both twelve?” She shoved me in hard the chest and then pointed an accusing finger at Albert.
I was cooling down a little, and started getting concerned about standing out in the open making all this noise.
“You’re both wrong. Deal with it. I’m taking Grace back to the boat. Don’t either of you come back until you stop acting like children.” Alison warned. She took Grace’s hand and stormed
away, dragging Grace in her wake. Chloe scampered after them.
Albert opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. He got his courage up and started again, telling me that he had scanned the area with binoculars for ten minutes and hadn’t seen any movement. I told him I looked through the same binoculars and couldn’t see shit with all the buildings in the way.
Albert looked at his feet. I scanned the boardwalk nervously. Finally, he looked me in the eyes. “I screwed up. I know it. I just wanted to know what it was like to feel normal again.” he said. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky you didn’t get to know what it was like to feel dead.” I said.
We looked at each other. I wanted to kick him in the teeth, but I also wanted to apologize for hitting him. In the end, I just shook my head at him in disbelief. Suddenly, I realized something.
As loud as we were, we hadn’t attracted any undead. Albert noticed it too. We looked up and down the boardwalk.
I didn’t feel like pushing our luck anymore and asked Albert if we could please get back to the boat before something jumped out and ate us. He nodded and we returned to our ship.
Once back on board, we agreed to pull out into the water and explore the harbor, wharfs, and shore with binoculars from a safe distance. Everybody looked at me like I was one of the Infected.
Grace was traumatized by what I had done to Albert and stayed below deck, avoiding me. Chloe sat in front of me and rapidly thumped her tail on the deck, hoping for forgiveness for whatever she had done to piss me off.
While I’m pretty sure Alison sympathized with me, I think my actions freaked her out a little. Albert, his swollen raccoon eyes magnified by his glasses, avoided my gaze and complied with my wishes, maneuvering the boat into the center of the bay. I spent over an hour viewing everything in sight at maximum magnification. From what I could see, the town was quiet.
Frankly, I was baffled. There were no signs whatsoever, of the living or undead.
When I went below deck I found everyone sitting in the salon. I stopped on the stairs and sat down. Nobody said anything.
100 Days of Death Page 18