100 Days of Death

by Ellingsen, Ray

  “Look,” I began. “I could have handled that better. Albert, I’m sorry I hit you. But, guys, we do one stupid thing out there and we will all die. We won’t get a second chance.”

  They looked at me blankly.

  I looked at Albert and said, “You know, the people who do stupid shit like you did are the ones who always get killed in horror films.”

  “I thought it was the black guys who always get killed in horror films.” Albert replied innocently. Alison smiled. Grace admonished me for saying the “s-h-i-t.” word.

  We spent most of the afternoon surveying Monterey from the safety of the Sisyphus. The docks were a mess and most of the boats (with the exception of the smaller watercraft) were either absent or sunken. We saw several masts pointing upward under the sea.

  One thing of interest was a fifty-five-foot Catamaran docked at the end of a row of slips. At around 2 pm we pulled up alongside of it and I jumped onboard. I borrowed Alison’s Walther P22 pistol as it was a better choice for clearing small areas.

  I cleared below deck and then Albert came on board. He checked the engine, tanks, and navigation system. Apparently, the ship is in excellent shape.

  Albert says that it is a better ship than the one we have. He wants to take it out into the harbor tomorrow and see what it can do. We may have a new home to move onto. If things are as quiet tomorrow, Albert and I will explore the wharf and the edge of town.

  The skies became overcast in the early evening. We could be in for some inclement weather. Tonight we are tied to one of the outer slips. It is a safer position than we were in last night.

  We are rotating guard shifts. I still feel bad about punching my friend. It’s strange, even though I’m paranoid, this place feels hopeful. We’ll see how it plays out.

  DAY 49

  This morning I woke to the smell of warm bread.

  Alison and Grace had baked a loaf and prepared breakfast. I arrived in the salon just as Albert was descending the stairs from the upper deck. His eyes and nose are still puffy and swollen. I groaned inwardly, knowing that a reminder of my temper would be around for the next week, at least. Nobody else seemed to notice.

  Albert broke the bad news to us while we ate. Apparently, the sails for the Catamaran we were thinking of requisitioning are missing. He thought they may have just been stowed away, but that is not the case.

  Albert had walked along the maze of docks to the other boat this morning and searched the vessel thoroughly. Without them, the Catamaran is useless to us. It is only disappointing and not catastrophic, as the Sisyphus will still service us well.

  Albert spotted the fuel station over on the municipal wharf and noticed a shed next to it that might contain a backup generator. After breakfast, we motored over to the pumps. I broke the lock off the shed and discovered a generator. We fired it up and refilled our fuel and water tanks. We repositioned ourselves back in our slip and then prepared to go ashore.

  The weather is overcast and the water has been choppy all day. Albert wanted to stay on the ship with Grace, so Alison and I geared up and stepped onto the dock. Chloe made a nuisance of herself wanting to go, and so on a whim, I called her. The three of us made our way across the docks toward the shore.

  At one point, we came to a broken section and had to jump the five-foot gap across the water. Of course, Chloe fell in and I had to drag her wet ass out of the drink. She shook off, spraying me with salt water. Alison grinned and looked away.

  As we walked across the parking lot and up to the town, I looked in the windows of several cars. The vehicles were empty, but the odd thing was that they were all parked in proper spaces and locked up.

  We left the parking area and walked up Washington Street. The town has been perfectly preserved. There are a few cars parked in the middle of the street, but for the most part everything looked normal (aside from the fact that there are no people, living or otherwise). It feels like everyone just got up and made an orderly evacuation of the town.

  The quiet was beginning to unnerve me a little. We turned on to Del Monte Avenue and passed a hotel, numerous shops, and tons of parking lots full of cars. If we stay here, we will have plenty of vehicles to choose from.

  Alison and I talked quietly as we walked from block to block. She was feeling a little spooked as well. Chloe was oblivious, running around to sniff everything in sight. The fact that my dog was relaxed made me breathe a little easier.

  After two and a half hours of wandering aimlessly and finding nothing, we headed back toward the wharf.

  We stopped at the Portola Plaza Hotel and conference center and walked up to the front doors. They were open and we stepped cautiously into the interior. The atrium lobby was well lit due to the glass ceiling. We looked around us. Other than the dying trees and plants scattered throughout, the place was empty. Chloe stayed close and sniffed the air nervously.

  We walked across the lobby and wandered back to the restaurant. There were no signs of looting, no people, nothing. We went down a corridor and tried a few room doors. They have electronic key slots so without power, we will have to break the doors down, or locate the master key.

  It was time to get back. On the way to the wharf, Alison and I talked about possibly coming back and using the hotel as a temporary base if we decide to stay. Something keeps nagging at my subconscious but I can’t put my finger on it.

  We made it back to the boat with no incidents. This evening we made plans for all of us to go to the hotel tomorrow. We intend to make camp in one or more of the rooms on the third floor and find a local phone book so we can locate the best possible sources for supplies.

  We will also try to locate a car or SUV that we can use. With so many vehicles in the hotel parking lot (most of them probably valet) we are bound to locate the keys to them.

  The complete lack of dead bodies or undead has me baffled. I can’t even guess what happened here. Hopefully, we will solve that mystery soon.

  DAY 50

  I can hardly believe it has been fifty days since this all began.

  It feels like fifty years and yet, I’m still not used to living this way. I slept terrible last night, having fitful dreams of fires and the undead. Nobody woke me for my watch shift and Alison confessed that nobody stood watch.

  I was furious until I saw Albert emerge from the head, the black-green circles around his eyes magnified by his glasses. I was shamed into silence and decided that since we weren’t all dead, there wasn’t much case for an argument.

  Grace was pretty excited to go see the hotel, asking repeatedly if it had a pool. It’s kind of funny, she’s been living on the water for the last ten days and now that she’s going to visit land, all she wants to do is go hang out at the pool.

  Under an overcast sky we moved the Sisyphus to a slip closer to the parking lot. At 10 a.m. we left our boat and made our way up the gangplank. When we reached the shore, I looked back, apprehensive to leave our vessel just sitting there for anyone to board. I knew I was being paranoid, but it is our only sure means of escape.

  Dark rain clouds had formed by the time we reached the hotel. Albert and Grace (and Chloe) decided to go check out the pool anyway. We had our radios and agreed to keep in touch every ten minutes. Alison and I located the manager’s office and found a set of master keys in a desk drawer.

  We took the stairs to the third floor and checked out several empty rooms. I looked out the window of one room to the street below. Everything was empty and quiet but something was still bothering me.

  We went downstairs and found Albert, Grace, and Chloe in the lobby. We had packed a lunch and they were already breaking into it, making a picnic in the waiting area. Alison went into the back offices to locate a phone book.

  I looked around at the peaceful setting and shook my head, thinking that it was entirely possible that I was just wound too tight. I let my carbine hang on its sling and push
ed it around behind my back.

  I went to go sit with Grace and Albert. Grace couldn’t find her water bottle and realized she had left it at the pool. I offered to take Chloe and go get it for her, if for no other reason than to get Chloe to stop mooching food from them.

  I went outside and across the plaza to the pool area. Light rain drops began to fall, sprinkling the gray concrete with polka dots. I found Grace’s water bottle and strolled back out into the plaza. Suddenly, Chloe’s hackles went up. I smelled the familiar scent of the undead. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I quickly moved down the sidewalk toward the back of the hotel. As I came around the corner, I could hear what sounded like waves coming from nearby.

  I walked out onto the bridge walkway over Lighthouse Avenue and looked down at the tunnel entrance below me. The nauseating, rotting smell of the infected rose up from the tunnel. I could hear their moans and wails echoing below me.

  I suddenly realized what had been concerning me; the cars. There had been vehicles everywhere, which meant nobody had left town. They were all here and from the sounds of it, all infected.

  Chloe started to growl. I backed away from the bridge and crouched around the corner of a building.

  I pulled out my Walkie Talkie and spoke urgently into it. “Guys, drop everything and get out to the plaza by the pool, now!”

  Albert’s voice came back, asking me what was wrong. I wanted to choke the crap out of him.

  I depressed the talk button and snarled into my radio, “Albert, shut up and get the f--k out here. And keep quiet! We’re in trouble.”

  Alison replied that they were on their way. As she spoke I could hear Grace crying in the background.

  They joined me moments later and we crossed over the bridge just as several hundred undead came running out of the Lighthouse Avenue tunnels. Dozens of them saw us and wailed, trying to claw their way up the walls to get to us. Rain began to pour out of the sky as we raced out across the parking lot to the Fisherman’s Wharf and toward the docks. We were lucky that we found the short cut. If we had gone back the way we came originally, they would have cut us off.

  As it was, dozens of them found us and gave chase. Dozens more joined them from all directions. The noise of hundreds of pairs of feet running after us along with the wails and moans was deafening. I picked up Grace and we sprinted down the sidewalk toward safety. We reached the docks and I told Albert and Alison to take Grace and Chloe and get the boat out onto the water.

  I closed the gate to the marina entrance, pulled my pack around and dug into it frantically, finally finding the two pipe bombs I brought with us. The first wave of undead hit the flimsy entrance gate and poured right through it.

  I was shaking so bad I could barely strike the lighter wheel to ignite the fuse. It finally lit and hissed reassuringly. The Infected were clamoring across the narrow board walk to get to me, knocking each other into the water. I heaved my improvised grenade into the mass of them and hit the deck. The explosion lifted me up and almost bounced me into the water.

  I looked back. A dozen creatures had been ripped apart by the blast. A dozen more lay stunned on the dock and in a few of the smaller boats, still in their slips. I glanced down the pier to the Sisyphus. Albert had cast off and I watched as our boat drifted too slowly away from its slip. My ears were ringing from the blast and I couldn’t tell if Albert had turned over the engine yet.

  I looked up on the wharf and out into the parking lot. Hundreds of Infected were charging off the wharf and into the water. They were wading into the water from the shore. More poured down the walkway toward me. I brought my carbine up and fired through an entire magazine, putting over a dozen of the things down.

  They continued climbing over each other to get to me. I raced down the walkway toward the last slip. I stopped and lit my last bomb. It almost fell from my jittery hands and into the water. I managed to get it lit and throw it. They were only fifty feet away from me when it went off in their midst. I felt something hot slap against my body.

  I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but when I sat up I was at the end of the dock, my leg dangling into the ocean. A section of the pier and several small boats were on fire.

  Smoke billowed up, obscuring my view of the shore. A half-dozen undead, their bodies torn by the blast crawled toward me. I looked out into the bay and saw the Sisyphus 30 yards away, holding position in the water.

  I felt vibrations in the boards and looked back to see hordes of burning monsters running through the flames to get at me. I looked around me for a dingy to jump into and escape, but there was nothing seaworthy. They were only fifteen feet from me when I dove into the ocean. I surfaced, coughing salt water out of my nose and mouth. I swam as hard as I could toward our boat. I caught glimpses of Albert and Alison waving at me frantically and pointing toward the wharf on my left.

  Something heavy slammed into me, sinking me under the waves. I inhaled seawater and clawed my way upward in a panic. I surfaced and threw up saltwater out of my lungs. My throat burned. Whatever had hit me got tangled up in my legs, threatening to pull me under again. I kicked and flailed, trying to disengage from it.

  Something else splashed into the ocean next to me and sank. Whatever I was tangled up in let go. That’s when I realized that the undead were running off the wharf to get at me. Three more landed around me, went under, and didn’t resurface again. I swam as hard as I could away from the wharf. All of my gear was making it hard to stay afloat.

  I finally got far enough from the wharf that the creatures couldn’t reach me. They continued to fall into the sea like lemmings. I was hacking up water and exhausted. Somehow I finally made it to our boat. Albert and Alison pulled me up over the rail and I lay on the deck puking up briny water while Albert turned over our engine and moved us out to the safety of the open sea.

  Chloe whimpered and pawed at me, concerned.

  I finally managed to get to my feet, and gazed back through the drizzling rain toward the shore. What looked to be over a thousand infected stood on the wharf and docks. The choppy water slapping against our hull and the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance drowned out their cries.

  I shook my head and turned to thank Albert and Alison for helping me aboard. They both stared at me, their looks of concern obvious. Albert had his (my) Glock out and was holding it at his side. Grace was presumably down below decks.

  “The one that landed on you hit you pretty hard.” Albert said lamely.

  I thought about the creature that had knocked me under and held on to my legs. “Yeah, what’s your point?” I asked, suddenly not liking the direction this was going. Albert hesitated and fidgeted with the gun in his hand.

  “You’ve got take off your clothes so we can check you over.” he said. “I’m sorry, but if you got bit you can’t come with us.” he added.

  I looked at Alison. She met my gaze steadily, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. I stared down at the gun Albert was holding. I knew they were right, but something inside me snapped. I was furious that they would accuse me and betray me like that. More than anything, Albert holding the gun was really pissing me off.

  I snapped my carbine up to my shoulder and aimed it at Albert’s head, right between his magnified, puffy, raccoon eyes.

  “I just risked my life for all of you, you ungrateful assholes!” I roared.

  Albert and Alison glanced at each other nervously. We stayed like that for almost a minute, nobody moving.

  Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the first night Albert showed up at my door. Our roles had now been reversed. This was pretty much his boat and here I was, looking for refuge. I smiled at the irony and lowered my weapon. I felt drained. I stripped down, despite the cold. I stood on the deck, unashamed, and raised my arms as Albert looked me over.

  When he was done he nodded at me and mumbled another apology. I crossed my arms and hunched my shoulders, shiv
ering in the open air. Alison suggested I get below and take a warm shower. She tentatively placed her hand on my arm. I shrugged it off, telling her to just give me some space for a while.

  I started below deck and both of them stopped me, telling me that Grace was in the salon. I looked down at my naked body and nodded. I put on my boxers, gathered up my things, and went below.

  I soaked in the shower for longer than I should have, but I didn’t care. I was still angry for some reason I couldn’t identify.

  The waters got rougher once we got out to sea. I didn’t go up to help, but instead left it to Alison and Albert.

  This evening, we pulled into the Santa Cruz Marina. There are numerous small water craft drifting haphazardly in the harbor. We tied off to a broken-down dock away from the rest of the slips. Even over the rain we can hear the moans of the dead everywhere.

  I have moved to the spare cabin with Chloe. Earlier, Alison came in and asked if we could talk. I told her to leave me alone. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I understand why they had to check me out and I’m not mad about that, but I am suddenly resenting that they are in my life.

  The first fifteen days after the plague hit were no picnic, but I was only responsible for myself and Chloe. If Albert hadn’t showed up, I would have never had to deal with Wayne and his biker goons, or Roz killing herself in my bathroom, or any of the shit I’ve had to deal with since then. The fires may have still happened, but I probably would have just moved to a different neighborhood. I am growing fond of Alison, but as shitty as this may sound, I don’t know if she is worth the trouble.

  I don’t know what is causing all of these feelings. I am thinking about just bailing when we pull into the next safe port. I have been feeling something for a while now but just didn’t want to say it. But here it is—I don’t want the responsibility for anyone else anymore. If that makes me an asshole, so be it. Maybe Albert telling me that if I was infected I wouldn’t be welcome just made me realize they don’t need me.