by DeLeon, Jon
"Oh God, I forgot about that. My hands were smoked," Kurt said. "Well after the river came the lake, where the boat sank, and then the hospital, where . . . where . . . where the key snapped, trapping Tyler." Kurt swallowed hard. He almost choked on his lie, but he wasn't ready for Joe to know the truth. He was too afraid of what Joe would think, knowing his brother was a murderer.
Joe sensed the sadness overwhelming Kurt. "That's enough storytelling for tonight. Let's get some sleep. We have a long few days ahead of us."
"Sounds good. Let's sleep." Kurt didn't. He lay there pretending to sleep. Kurt was being overtaken by feelings of guilt. He didn't deserve to be saved. He was scum. He had committed heinous sins. Kurt had done things that were beyond despicable. Even worse, Kurt had given up on Joe. He had written his brother off, a secret he couldn't even dream of admitting.
On the other side of the bed, Joe faked sleep as well. His mind was full of worry. Kira and Jolie and the kids were waiting at Newlantis. They were safe for now, but for how long depended on the whims of a madman. Joe opened his eyes and looked at Kurt. Something was wrong. They had always been open with each other, but Kurt was holding back. Joe could see that whatever it was, it was eating away at Kurt's heart. How can I get him to open up? If Kira hadn't been there, someone to talk to, someone to love, I don't know what would've happened to me. Kurt's been alone. He has to let it out before it poisons him. It has to be Kurt's choice, but will he do it soon enough or will the emotions fester too long and steal my brother from me?
Transatlantic Convoy Security Ship: Outbreak Day +102
The sun was high in the sky, sending a bright glare into Jolie's eyes as she scanned the horizon. She was on patrol, circling the convoy. Patrols were getting more detailed and longer, as some of the oil tankers had begun to return to the group. Just past a breaking wave, churned up by the windy early afternoon, Jolie spotted two ships. A Newlantis police ship was in hot pursuit of a fishing boat. They were racing at high speeds, directly toward the convoy. Jolie pushed the throttle down, steering in a path to cut off the boats' path before they got too close. Jolie spoke over the radio and megaphone. "Unknown ship. You are approaching the convoy security zone. Turn now or be met with force." Jolie glanced to ensure the assault rifle still sat in its rack by her leg. She didn't want to shoot anyone but would if it meant keeping the convoy and those she was responsible for safe. The boat turned slightly, steering directly for Jolie. She repeated the message, this time with more force. "Unknown ship. You are approaching the convoy security zone. Turn now or be met with force."
"Ayuda!" The voice rang out through the radio on Jolie's speakers, followed by a stream of words she couldn't understand.
Jolie, having been from Miami, should have known Spanish but never learned. So she repeated her message. "Unknown ship. You are approaching the convoy security zone. Turn now or be met with force." The boat didn't slow or change course. It was approaching fast. She stopped her boat, reached down and grabbed the rifle. She fired into the air once. It had no effect. She aimed down the sights and fired at the boat. The waves made accuracy impossible, but at least one of the bullets from the burst-fire weapon hit the windshield of the boat. It veered off, steering toward open water. It wasn't fast enough. Jolie watched as the Newlantis police boat caught up with the vessel. She saw the flashes of gunfire as they opened up on the boat cabin. A few moments later, the chase was over. The fishing boat floated idly. The police stormed the ship, soon emerging and rebounding their ship.
Over the radio, Jolie heard their voices. "Thanks for your help, convoy security."
Jolie swallowed. "You're welcome."
"That will show people to pay the tax. You're better than our last security guy. He used to let tax runners into the convoy."
Jolie felt her stomach drop. "Tax runners?"
"Yeah, what are you, new or something?"
"Just started a week ago."
"Oh well, welcome! You see, to pay for all this, when you arrive, you have to pay a tax. If you don't pay then, if you can't pay yet, the king is generous enough to give you a week to pay. If you can't sell what you have to make the money, you can forfeit your boat and work to pay off the debt, or leave. Some try to stay illegally. When they are called out on it, they'll make a run for it. Most we catch before they get out of the docks, but a few run. It's been known for a while, if you can make it to the convoy, you can book passage and escape. Now that there is a new security person, maybe that will change."
Jolie was sick with the idea that she had let Ricahrd down.
"Anyway, thanks for helping. What's your name, security girl?"
"Jolie."
"Jolie, the king will hear about your help. Trust me, that's a good thing."
La Vida Dulce: Outbreak Day +102
"Kira. I got someone killed today," Jolie said as she and Kira sat on the fly deck, watching the sunset over Newlantis.
"How?" Kira asked.
"This ship was running from the police, coming at the convoy, and it wouldn't stop. So I shot at it, making the boat turn. All I did was seal its fate. The police ended up killing him. And do you know why?"
Kira shook her head.
"All because he didn't pay the king's tax. They killed him for that. And he was running to me for help, and I just shot at him."
"You couldn't know why he was running though. He could have been a killer or something."
"I know," Jolie said, "it just still feels terrible.”
"I'm sorry," Kira said.
Jolie paused for a moment. "Do you think it's weird that I confess to getting someone killed and you don't ask ‘What?’ or ‘Are you joking?’ It's like that’s just another Tuesday."
"Is it Tuesday?" Kira asked, playfully.
"You know what I mean," Jolie said, not accepting Kira's humor.
"We just have to make it until Joe and Ricahrd get back," Kira said, staring at the sunset. Please hurry.
The Black Sea Barge: Outbreak Day +103
Kurt opened his eyes to the dark and cold of the boiler room. He was lying face-first on the floor next to the bent door. This time, Tyler was in there with him. Tyler's hand was over Kurt's mouth, not letting him say anything. Tyler whispered in his ear, "You killed me. Now I'm killing you."
"Joe, we have to go. There are more zombies coming out of the forest," Ricahrd said on the other side of the door.
"I'm sorry, Kurt, wherever you are."
Kurt began to panic. Joe's boot steps led away in the hall. Kurt went to scream, but Tyler's hand kept him silent. Joe's boot steps became a distant noise.
Kurt woke up with a start, a cold sweat soaking the bed. The helicopter had its engines churning outside. Joe wasn't at the edge of the bed. Kurt began to panic. "Joe! Joe!"
Joe appeared around the corner. "Hey, man, I'm here. It's all good. I'm not leaving you."
"Sorry," Kurt said, "this dream."
"It's okay, man," Joe said reassuringly. "It's been a messed-up couple of months. You're allowed to have some fucked-up dreams."
Kurt nodded.
"It's time to go," Joe said, offering Kurt his hand. "Let's leave Russia for good, how does that sound?"
Kurt exhaled. "Sounds good. Sounds really good."
Joe and Kurt walked to the helicopter, its blades already spinning but only at a slow warm-up speed.
Teo yelled to them. "One of you, help me with this!" He was struggling to drag a large box to the helicopter door.
"Joe," Ricahrd yelled and waved him over, holding a phone to his ear in his other hand.
"I'll help Teo," Kurt said.
Joe walked over to Ricahrd. He was still on the phone. "Are you sure? Yes, send me the coordinates." Ricahrd looked down at his phone. "Yep, got ‘em. Thanks." He hung up the phone and turned to Joe. "That was Philipo. David just received another distress signal, and we're real close to it. Joe, the signal was '314.'"
"What?" Joe asked, confused.
Ricahrd answered, equally shocked by the
development. "I guess the code was sent out over a radio. David had logged the location already. It had been originally calling out ‘SOS’ and begging for help from someone, for the last month almost. He thought the person had been lost when it stopped last week, but the person sending out radio pleas came back on, now just saying ‘314’ repeatedly. Philipo said that voice was weak. This may be our last chance to get to them in time."
Joe thought for a moment. He turned and looked at Kurt, who was helping Teo with a large supply chest. "Let's fly over. See what we see. See if we can help." Ricahrd nodded and handed Joe the phone. Joe looked and saw a pin dropped on the map location. Joe nodded back. He walked over to Kurt, who had just set the heavy case down in the chopper. "Hey, Kurt."
"What? What's wrong?" Kurt asked, reading Joe's face.
"Looks like we can't leave Russia just yet," Joe answered. "We just received a distress call from the coast close to here. We have to see if we can help."
"Joe, I . . ." Kurt stammered, shaking his head for a moment. Something inside called his courage. He nodded. "I trust you."
"Thanks," Joe said, feeling immediately relieved to have Kurt's support. "There's something else."
"What?"
"The distress call we received is someone asking for help using the code 314."
Kurt's eyes grew wide and his face blank. "How?"
"I don't know. Maybe someone else noticed that you guys sent 314 out and got a rescue mission," Joe said, unconvinced of the idea himself.
"But that code was sent out over a month ago. Someone tracks it that well?"
"I don't know. Just letting you know." Joe hopped into the chopper and leaned close to the pilot. "We need to check out one other signal while we're here." Joe showed the pilot the map location.
The pilot wasn't excited about the plan change. "Hey, I didn't sign up for that."
"Look," Joe took a stern tone, "we can fly over and still make it to the second barge platform today. We're here. Let's help. All I'm asking for is to change the flight path a little."
The pilot thought for a moment. "Fine. But we don't spend too much time there."
"Deal," Joe said.
Soon the Black Hawk was airborne, headed to the location of the distress call. Kurt watched nervously as the chopper hugged the coast. His mind was racing.
Who else knew that code? Could Tyler have survived? I didn't actually see him die, just heard the screams. Could he have escaped? Could it really have been someone who linked the code to his rescue? Are we flying into an ambush?
"That's gotta be the source of your signal," the pilot said over the radio.
Joe and Kurt leaned simultaneously out of the helicopter door to see. Ahead sat a fishing boat, half sunk into the water a few hundred feet off the shore. From above, they could see the dark silhouette of the rocks the boat had marooned itself on. On the sun-bleached roof of the cabin house on the front of the boat, someone had painted "SOS" in dark-black paint. As the helicopter came close, a girl ran out of the cabin house, onto the main deck. She jumped and waved her arms overhead. Even though they were still a ways away, Kurt recognized her in an instant. "Get us over there! Pilot, get us there!"
"Could be a trap," the pilot answered.
"No, it's not. Get us over there! We have to save her!" Kurt was nearly frantic. "Joe, we have to save her!"
Joe, shocked by the energetic outburst from his brother, just nodded and put his hand up, trying to calm Kurt down. "Okay. Okay. Pilot, take us closer."
"If this is a trap—"
"Just do it." This time, it was Ricahrd's turn to speak up.
"Okay," the pilot whined.
A few minutes later, the helicopter was hovering over the run-aground boat, with its rope ladder dangling out the side. The girl was climbing up the swaying steps. As she was about to reach the door, Joe grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.
Before she even had a chance to find a seat, Kurt wrapped his arms around her. "Liz! I thought you were dead."
The Bunk Room: Outbreak Day +104
"Liz, how is this possible? How are you here, sharing a bunk with me on the last barge before we reach Newlantis? How? It's just so unreal," Kurt said, looking at Liz, who now sat at the other end of the small bed.
Liz shook her head. "I don't know. I guess prayers can come true. I mean, after the settlement, I found myself running for my life from a wall of zombies. I didn't know what to do, so I ran and ran and ran. I somehow found a river and followed that to the coast. I didn't know what to do, so I just did what I thought you would do. I thought if you survived, maybe I'd run into you following that same river to the coast. Well, I didn't." Liz held back tears, remembering the moment she almost gave up hope. "I did see that boat though. It was pouring rain as I swam out to it. I was able to collect a ton of the rainwater. A few other storms helped me survive, along with some fishing gear I used to feed myself." She laughed. "Before this, I couldn't even put a worm on a hook, or eat sushi. Now I've been using rotting fish pieces to catch other fish, cut them up and eat them raw."
Kurt smiled and laughed with her for a moment.
Liz continued. "But the rains stopped, and I ran out of water a few days ago. I was at the end of my rope. Then you came." She smiled big at Kurt. "And it looks like you found your brother after all."
"He found me," Kurt said, smiling.
"Really?" Liz asked, curious.
"Yeah, he saved me at the last second. I was trapped in this POS Russian mental hospital." Kurt paused and swallowed. "He got there in time to save me, but Tyler didn't make it. I'm sorry."
"How did he go?" Liz asked, suddenly emotionless.
"Not good," Kurt whispered.
"He fucking deserved it," Liz said, coldly.
"Liz, I killed him. I locked him behind a gate and trapped him with the zombies," Kurt admitted.
"Do you know what he did to me?" Liz asked, anger starting to bubble.
Kurt nodded. "He told me everything."
"Everything?" Liz asked.
"Yeah. That's why I let him die. I was angry. I let myself become consumed by it and killed him."
Liz put her hand on Kurt's. "Kurt. Tyler died a long time ago." Kurt began crying. Liz continued. "I told you before that he was different. He changed. The second he pushed me into that zombie, I saw it for the first time. The good parts of Tyler had died and given way to the evil of this undead world."
"I'm sorry," Kurt said, barely holding his emotions together.
"Me too," Liz said. "But don't let this steal what's left of you. Don't let it steal the person I love."
"Huh?" Kurt asked.
"Tyler and I got married because it was the right time to do it, not because we truly loved each other. When he pushed me, do you know what thought I couldn't stop thinking?"
"What?"
"I'll never get to see Kurt again. That's all I thought about. Not about dying or revenge, but just wanting to see you again. To spend another night dancing or cold winter day playing cards. And it was that dream that kept me going. You don't feel like that unless it's about someone you love."
"I love you too," Kurt said, more an admission of guilt than a statement of affection. "That's why killing Tyler was so wrong. Even though you were gone, I killed him because of my love for you, because of my envy of what he had and just threw away. How can I ever be forgiven for that?"
"It's not about others forgiving you but about forgiving yourself," Liz said. Kurt squeezed Liz's hand. "Do you know why I called out 314?" Kurt shook his head, too emotional to talk. "I had tried everything else. I was at the end of my rope. The last time I had felt safe and hope for the future was when I was with you. The way you talked about your brother. The way you had such faith in him. In my last-ditch effort, I stopped calling for help. I called for you."
Kurt leaned in and hugged Liz, holding her tight.
Just outside the open door to the bunk room, in the hallway, Joe sat against the wall. Tears ran down his face. He had listened t
o Kurt and Liz's conversation. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.
Dear Lord, thank you for the amazing couple of days we've just had. Thank you for delivering Kurt home safely to me, and for being able to find this girl who has been so amazing to my brother. Thank you for putting her in Russia to help Kurt survive. Now I ask you for something more. Please, Lord, protect and watch over his soul. Help him heal. Help him forgive himself. Use me, use this girl for your healing, Lord. Please take care of my brother in the ways I can't. Amen.
Transatlantic Convoy Security Ship: Outbreak Day +106
"Hey, convoy security girl."
Jolie was on patrol, circling the end of the convoy nearest Newlantis. "My name is Jolie, you know that."
"Right, switch to channel 12. We need to talk about something."
Jolie turned the dial on the radio. "This is Jolie."
"How are the friendly seas treating you today, Jolie?"
She looked around at the downpour of rain that was falling. Jolie was huddled under a small roof that covered only the driving position of the boat. "Wonderful."
"Rain is cleansing. Great for new beginnings, don't you think?"
"Did you want to talk about something?" Jolie asked.
"I want to talk about new beginnings. Like our new friendship."
Jolie shook her head. She could sense the poison behind the words.
The policeman continued. "The king was very appreciative of your help the other day. He wanted me to tell you how happy he is that the convoy has a security detail who is enforcing rules again. He wants me to tell you that he wants the convoy to stay that way. Our king would like to help you, as a reward for helping us."
Our king? You mean your king. Jolie pressed the send button. "How can he help?"
"Very soon there is going to be a big cleaning operation. Part of that requires some new leadership in key positions, including convoy security. So the king wanted to know, should something happen, are you interested in being that person?"