The Apocalypse Chronicles (Book 2): New World [Undead]

by DeLeon, Jon

  “Wait, really?” Joe asked, amazed.

  “Yeah. I know you, Joe. You wouldn’t leave people behind, especially your brother, after what happened with Aaron. I knew we had to find Kurt eventually, save what family we could. So I’ve learned the economy here. We fish for food just for the people here, but the oil rigs in the bay are still operating and shipping fuel to Miami. Then some of it is shipped to the Mediterranean to a floating island of ships much larger than here, which they call Newlantis. Well to make that journey, you need to carry fuel and pay the fee. Under that tarp up front are a bunch of oil barrels waiting to be filled, and I have saved up enough to fill them plus buy some rations for a long trip.”

  Joe was speechless.

  “Well I knew how important your brother was to you, so I have been working on a way to go find him. Besides, you just said that he saved you, and you saved me, so I owe him too, I guess.”

  Joe jumped up and pumped his fist a couple of times. He could go after Kurt. “Oh my god. Oh, I love you!” Joe was pacing around the top deck.

  Kira sat staring at him. Did he realize what he just said? He said it so casually. Was this for real?

  “You love me?” she asked.

  Joe froze. What he said had just connected in his mind. He had let the words just come out. Nothing felt wrong about them. He had seen Kira take care of the kids. He had seen the way she held silent strength and then melted in his arms, and he had felt her kiss. He turned and looked at her. This time, he took a serious tone.

  “I love you.”

  Kira stood up and walked to Joe. He took her in his arms and kissed her. They melded into one. The warmth of her lips, the curve of her body, the hardness of his muscles, together they were perfect. Tomorrow they would get ready to leave and sail north, but now they let themselves be consumed with love.

  Key West Harbor: Outbreak Day +69

  The next morning, Joe was up early. He tied the small fishing boat and the kayak from Miami Beach, which had spent the last few months unused sitting on the fly deck, onto the back deck and sailed to the oil-drilling stations.

  The La Vida Dulce headed south, out to the open water of the gulf. Its target was the nearest oil-drilling station. A few hours later, they neared the platform. A military fast boat came speeding out. The radio spat out angry commands. “Stop your engines or be fired upon!” Joe pulled back on the throttle. The Navy boat sailed a few circles around them for what seemed like an eternity and then swooped in quickly, coming alongside them. Joe stood on the back main deck to talk, with his arms raised.

  A man on a bullhorn spoke over the short distance between the boats. Other men had rifles trained on Joe. “You have entered restricted waters! What’s your purpose here?”

  Kira sat inside, out of view. “Joe, that’s not right. None of this is. There isn’t supposed to be military here.”

  Joe spoke softly to her. “Most people don’t know, but the military had to take a few over after some Enerjax outbreaks.”

  The Navy man was getting impatient. “What’s your purpose here?” His speech was louder and angrier.

  “We came to buy fuel,” said Joe, clear and loud.

  “This is military operation. Unless you’re military, you need to leave.”

  Joe yelled back, “My name is Captain Joe Feller, search and rescue, New Florida Keys Army.”

  The Navy boat circled in closer so the two boats were nearly touching. “Holy shit. It really is you, Captain Feller.”

  Joe recognized the man instantly. “Good to see you, Petty Officer Kyle.”

  “You too, sir. I heard things. Heard about what happened and that you were done. Everyone says you’re a cripple or that you mentally cracked.”

  “No, neither actually. While I was recovering, I received word that I have family alive. Combine that with the base commander changing tactics to a ground assault, bridge blitzkrieg strategy, and my skills aren’t needed anymore. Plus they gave me their graces to head out, and an M4,”

  “Yeah, commander also had no problem dumping all the blame on you and saying he kicked you out.”

  “Yeah.” Joe gritted his teach a little.

  “What did happen, sir?” Seaman Kyle asked.

  “They’re smarter than you think, Kyle. They can lay traps and have battle strategy. Accept that, and don’t underestimate them. That’s what we did.”

  “What does that mean? Are they still human?” Seaman Kyle asked.

  “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t care. Right now, I just need to find my brother.”

  “I wish you luck with that.”

  “Thanks, well we were hoping to purchase fuel.” Joe waved to Kira, who came out holding Elizabeth, who had run up to her scared after hearing the bullhorn. They stepped out and stood next to Joe.

  “I didn’t know you had kids, sir.”

  “Well I do now. It’s complicated. I guess everything in this zombie world is.”

  “That’s true. But, sir, I’m sorry, we can’t sell gas. Regulations sent down from command prohibit it.”

  “We have the barrels and gold, seaman, we need just to fill up before heading north.”

  “Are y’all going to New Miami?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “You won’t need to fill those barrels for that trip, sir, but you know that. Is that where you brother is?”

  “No. He’s across the Atlantic. We need the fuel to join the convoys.”

  “Oh, I see. But I still can’t sell you any, sir. Even though down here, I’m technically the highest-ranking officer, I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to, I have ten other men to think about, who would all get sent to a shitty post if we disobeyed command. You understand, right? Here we aren’t battling zombies or dealing with the smoke and stench of burning bodies. The food sucks, just old MREs, but other than that, life is heaven here compared to the rescue missions.”

  Kira joined the conversation, yelling a question. “When was the last time you had fresh fish?”

  Seaman Kyle laughed. “Probably over two months now. They don’t send fish out here.”

  “How about you sell us the oil, and we give you something better than gold?”

  “And what’s that?” Seaman Kyle asked sarcastically.

  Kira put Elizabeth down and ran inside. She quickly emerged holding up the notebook. “In this notebook are all the best fishing spots around here. I personally used this to accumulate all the gold and barrels we have. You can also have the small fishing boat tied on the wet deck and all the tackle we have. You and your men could have fresh meals from now on.”

  “Captain, be real here. Is she just talking shit? I’d love a good meal. So would the men. But how can we trust this? If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t even be talking to them anymore,” Seaman Kyle said.

  “Come tie up to us,” Joe invited. “I’ll show you the proof.”

  The Navy boat pulled up. Seaman Kyle tossed a line across, and Joe quickly tied the vessels together. Seaman Kyle stepped onto La Vida Dulce. Joe first opened the storage area underneath a bench on the back deck, where life jackets would normally be kept. Instead was a haul of fish packed on ice. Joe next led Seaman Kyle to the bow and showed him the barrels. “See?”

  “I see fish and barrels. How does that guarantee that you aren’t lying?”

  “Kira? How far away is the closest fishing spot?” Joe asked.

  “With the fishing boat, probably thirty minutes. With that Navy ship, like fifteen.”

  “So you send some men to go fish that spot while we fill the barrels. If they find fish, then we give you the fishing ship and the notebook. If we are lying, you can just shoot us all.”

  “Joe!” Kira said, covering Elizabeth’s ears.

  “Or just cancel the deal,” Joe said. “Well what do you say, Kyle? How about fresh fish for you and your men? Plus the rods, some tackle and bait to get you started. And you won’t have to worry about shitty delivery schedules for food. I’m sure you’ve run short once or twice.
Sounds like a good deal, right?”

  “You realize you would be putting a target on your backs. The whole trade in New Miami runs on fuel. Being rich in fuel is dangerous,” Seaman Kyle said.

  Kira spoke up again. “I’ve got a plan for that.”

  Joe nodded toward Kira and turned back to Seaman Kyle. “So do we have a deal?”

  Joe and Kira sat on the fly deck as they headed north, hugging the coast line. They were sailing full of fuel and light one fishing boat. Joe looked at the islands as they passed by. They had just stopped off at a small, uninhabited one for palm branches for Kira’s plan.

  “So now we’ve got the fuel, Kira.” Joe looked at the barrels. He could barely see them under the tarp and palm branches that were piled on the side of them. “Are you sure about this ruse?”

  “Listening to the chatter on the radio, New Miami has no need for water. So being so poor in fuel that we are collecting coconuts to avoid using the desalinating pump should help make us less of a target, hopefully. Plus I have been hanging the kids’ drawings on the windows. I think people will assume that having other people to look out for makes it harder to be rich, or at least not rich enough that people will come after us.”

  “Let’s just hope we don’t get asked about it at all,” Joe said, unsure. “Now how do we join one of these convoys you’ve heard of?”

  Kira rubbed her face. “I’m not sure about that. I heard about all of this by sitting, listening to the radio, so I didn’t exactly get all the details. From what I understand, they stage out of Miami Harbor, and I’ve heard them name the mayor, but I think we’ll have to approach and ask the convoy ourselves. They seem to want all who want to come. The convoys are run for profit, so you pay and they accept you. I assume that would be simple. Plus since we wouldn’t drain on their oil reserves, they should give us a discount.”

  “Why?” Joe asked.

  Kira continued. “Well people pay for safe transport, but the main way they make money, according to the radio, is by selling oil along the trip and when they arrive at Newlantis. Newlantis somehow has manufacturing setup, I guess. I just heard that they can make ammunition, which we need to keep clearing the islands and regain ground. So it’s pretty open trade.”

  “What else have you heard about Newlantis?”

  “Not much. I did hear that they have mastered sea farming. There are rumors of fields of corn on ships. And that you get steak because some islands have been cleared, so they are growing livestock, but that sounds like it’s too good to be true.”

  “Corn growing on a ship? That would be a sight to see.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well I guess the first thing to do is find a convoy and join it. This should be fun.”

  The convoy was floating about twenty miles off Miami Beach. Joe had been on the radio as he approached and had been directed to pull up to and float near a deep-sea buoy. The convoy could be seen on the horizon. It looked like a small city floating on the sea.

  The La Vida Dulce had been floating idly for about ten minutes when a go-fast boat came out of the middle of a small armada of ships. It coasted to a stop a short distance away. The radio came back to life.

  “Name and boat name?”

  “My name is Joe. This is La Vida Dulce. We are looking to join the convoy.”

  After a short pause, the man on the other end of the radio spoke back. “I don’t have a ‘vida dulce’ or ‘Joe’ on my records. How long ago did you get mayoral approval?”

  Joe responded, “We just came up from the base at Key West. We have plenty of—”

  Joe was interrupted. “Hold up! Stop! Let me stop you right there. You must have mayoral approval to join this convoy.”

  Joe didn’t want to deal with whatever New Miami was. “Look, we just want to join—”

  The man interrupted again. “Not without mayor approval. You must go into New Miami and obtain the proper approval. Then you can join a convoy.”

  “What if—”

  “No. Stop. There are no exceptions. You can’t buy your way in. You must get approval. Then come back. Oh, and don’t try without it. We have no problem sinking ships and sacrificing lives to maintain the convoy. Are we clear?”

  “Okay, I understand. Calm your tits.”

  “Ha ha ha.” Laughing came from the other side of the radio. “Did you just tell me to calm my tits? Ha Ha. I like you. What’s your full name, Joe?”

  “Joe Feller.”

  “Okay, Joe Feller, are you a doctor or anything like that? Something useful?

  “I’m military.”

  “Okay, any leadership experience?”

  It was Joe’s turn to laugh. “Ha ha, some.”

  “Great. What was your highest rank?”

  “I’m a captain.”

  “You are a captain? Going AWOL?”

  “It’s complicated.” Joe wasn’t amused at the implication.

  “Well what isn’t these days, right? Okay, hold on a second.” About a minute passed before the man came back on the radio. “Well, Joe, it seems someone in New Miami has heard your name before. I guess you’ll get your mayoral permission from the man himself. Do you have something to write down on?”

  Joe grabbed a small stationery pad and a crayon the kids had been using. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, go into the harbor, up Government Cut, and go to where Bayside Marina used to be. You’ll find the marina a lot larger with boats tied to each other in long docks. Go to the fifth from the right. There is an open mooring area there for short-term visitors. Go and tie up, and I’ll make sure the right people come to you so you can meet the mayor. Oh, and a word of caution, don’t trust anyone there. New Miami is a vile place. Unlike the convoy, it doesn’t have a great system of rules. So be safe.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, good luck. Remember, don’t come back without mayoral approval.”

  Joe steered toward New Miami. “Miami, here we come. I did promise I’d be back.”

  The Russian Military Outpost Lake: Outbreak Day +68

  Kurt and Tyler pulled their freezing, wet bodies from the Russian lake. They trudged up onto the muddy shore. Kurt was on his hands and knees, while Tyler had his hands interlaced on his head as he lay on the ground, staring at the sky. The short swim had been the most difficult of either of their lives. The icy lake had gotten colder. Moving around in those waters was painful. Every stroke felt like slamming their arms into a bed of sharp needles. The sounds of screaming from the island had stopped during their swim. Now it was silent, except for the noise of their heavy breathing.

  Kurt looked around them in a full circle. There was no one around. The zombies had lost them. Kurt took a chance at talking to Tyler. He had to. His mind was running wild with a thought he needed to voice.

  “They tunneled. They frickin’ tunneled to us.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tyler asked.

  “The zombies dug under the lake to reach us. They’re smart. I mean, at least smart enough to find a way around the water.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. Zombies are not smart. They are mindless creatures. You saw them running through that minefield. Remember when those things exploded?”

  Kurt hadn’t gotten that image out of his mind. “Yeah.”

  “Did you see what the others who hadn’t gotten hit did?”

  “No.” Kurt had been too busy watching the pieces of the ones getting hit.

  “Well they continued coming. There was no hesitation or worry. They didn’t know what was going on.”

  “Or they were just too hungry to care. They took the risk. I mean, they have some level of intelligence. They didn’t walk into the water.”

  “Yeah. Why is that?” Tyler asked.

  “You’ve seen those things. There is no way they have enough coordination to swim.”

  “Can they drown then?

  “I guess.”

  “No way, man, they came
up from underground. There is no oxygen underground. I don’t think they breathe.”

  “What then? Why are they afraid of it?”

  “Beats me.”

  “Well they tunneled.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Look, man, I saw bubbles.”

  “Bubbles?”

  “Yeah. I thought they were from a tire under the lake, but it could have been from a collapsing tunnel.”

  “Your whole argument is bubbles?”

  “Well they got to us somehow.”

  “Yeah they did.” Tyler rolled over, stood up and extended Kurt his hand. “Come on, man, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled himself up. The two started walking along the shore in the opposite direction of the spot where the vehicles had crashed into the lake yesterday.

  The fog was starting to lift. A roaring sound was coming from up ahead. Kurt and Tyler inched forward slowly. The outlet from the lake was a ten-foot-high waterfall that fed a system of rapids and rushed downstream. The noise was near-deafening. Kurt and Joe relaxed slightly when they saw the raging river. Lying across the lake’s outlet over the drop of the waterfall was a thick log.

  Kurt turned, smiling, to look at Tyler, who was standing behind him. His smile was wiped away in an instant.

  Twenty feet behind Tyler was a wall of zombies advancing at his back. The sound of the water had masked their approach. Tyler saw the fear in Kurt’s face and turned instinctively. He saw the horde.

  They both reacted by starting to cross the icy, slick log. It was about twelve feet in length. After covering about seven feet of it, Kurt saw zombies coming to the other side of the log as well. They were trapped. Kurt looked at Tyler. He was asking the same question in his mind as Kurt was: What do we do now

  The zombies were mulling at both ends of the log. They were deciding what to do, just like Kurt and Tyler. Tyler took action. He slammed his boot into the log with all his strength. The log had been swollen and splintered from last night’s freeze. The warming temperatures combined with the added weight broke the last straw, or in this case, log. With a loud snap, the bridge gave way, sending Kurt and Tyler into the icy, raging stream.