by Shana Festa
"There were five of us when we made it to the main street that runs parallel with this river. The soles of our shoes were damn near worn through from all the walking. We thought it would be a good idea to hide in one of the stores. Running for the window shade store, a pack of undead came around the corner of the 7-Eleven. We turned to run around the other side and were greeted by another group of them.
"Jones collided with the group and didn’t even have time to scream before they ripped his throat out. Close enough that hand-to-hand combat was our only option, we took out as many as we could. Howards was taken out before we could kill the last two. Will put him down before he came back. They were best friends from childhood and joined the military together out of high school.
"The second group was almost on us and we only had one option. We covered ourselves with rotting corpses and hid. Their flesh felt waxy and the…" he shuddered and his face went green, "…the smell was so bad, month old walking corpses spending all their time in the Florida sun. Even if I could have gotten over the smell of rotting flesh, the maggot infested wounds were wet with some black goo…I’m guessing what was left of their liquefying organs.
"It seeped through my clothes and coated me in a sticky film of nauseating fluid. We spent the entire night hidden under those pus bags. The 7-Eleven cluster took hours to leave. I think they knew we were there somewhere. That brings us up to this morning."
"Jesus. It sounds horrible. That’ll teach you to disobey your wife, bub." I poked at his shoulder to punctuate my statement. The truth was I wasn’t even the slightest bit angry with him. I was too happy he found his way back to me. "How did you end up with Adam, Seth, and Lowell?"
"The bedding store is in the same building as the store they were going to hit. They passed right by us in the morning. I thought they were going to piss themselves when we started shoving the corpses off us. We must have looked pretty bad, because Lowell nearly shot Will in the face when he and Dale stood up. If I hadn’t spoken up when I did, he would have done it, too. Man, were those guys a sight for sore eyes. I almost lost my shit and began crying like a little girl when they found us. I knew it meant I had found you."
* * *
Chapter 26
Oops, I Did it Again
Every one of us slept in the next morning. I woke to the aroma of lingering vomit and dog farts. I never could understand how a dog so small could produce such a big stink. Every time I called her on it she gave me a look that I swear said: yes, it was me, and I’ll do it again. The houseboat was big, but it was starting to feel pretty tight with nine adults, a little girl, and pooch extraordinaire.
We made the decision to go to Sanibel, but we weren’t ready to go yet. The houseboat was the safest place we’d been, assuming no more would-be rapists showed up, so we fully intended on laying low for a few days. It wasn’t that we didn’t believe the story Mel told us about the safe haven; it was more that we didn’t know what shape it would be in.
These days anything could happen, and it was prudent we protected each other at all costs; we were all that was left of what started as over one hundred refugees.
So, we played house for a bit. The group was insistent that Jake and I keep the master bedroom. Meg and Will moved into the guest room she and I previously shared. I had to agree with Jake; Private Will Tapper was a good guy.
He had a quirky sense of humor and a positive outlook even when things looked their bleakest. At dinner, he pulled out Meg’s chair as she sat. His pace quickened as they approached doors, insistent that he be the one to hold it open for her. Will hung like a lovesick puppy with stars in his eyes on every word she spoke, content to bask in her glow. Meg was treated like the lady she was. Ah, the honeymoon phase; to be young again.
Lowell and Seth kept the room with the twin beds and Nancy took the other guest room with Gabby. She had taken on the role of de facto mother. Adam remained on the fold out sleeper in the galley, and Private Dale Ellis, the young soldier I hadn’t gotten to know yet, took the recliner Noelle had died in. I guess it didn’t bother him because he didn’t see her die, but I knew there was no way I would ever sit in that chair again.
On any given night, most of us would wake in terror; it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear muffled screams coming from any of our rooms. On the second night, Nancy confided that the frequent nightly disruptions were a welcome respite since it tore her from the recurring nightmare of her husband’s death.
We sat cramped into the galley as a group and ate MREs for breakfast. I now knew why soldiers complained so much about the grub. It wasn’t that they were bad; well, not all of them at least. They were boring and all shared the same blandness. The omelet was especially gross. I tried to feed it to Daphne and she snubbed her nose at it. Not even fit for a dog.
Seth stood and addressed the group. "We should think about moving soon. We’re running low on potable water again and if Sanibel turns out to be a bust, we’ll need to make a supply run. I’d rather not have to do both. So, Lowell and I were talking about the best strategy to go about reconing the island. We both agree that our best bet is for him to scout first in the helicopter."
Adam raised his hand like a student. "Um, have you forgotten the bird is currently in the middle of a horde of those things? How do you propose we get to it and get it in the air without attracting their attention?" The group shared his sentiment.
"Well, we talked about that. It will require all of us to make it happen. Lowell and I will get to the bird. The rest of you will need to create a distraction. They don’t want the helicopter; they want us. So we give them what they want."
The group erupted in argument.
"Hold your horses; I wasn’t suggesting we sacrifice anyone for the cause. Though, if I were, I would have voted on the dog. She pissed on the bathroom floor again." His quip lightened the mood a bit and we laughed. I knew he was joking. I instinctively turned to look at Daphne, who was currently squatting in the corner of the cabin. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t totally joking. Jake followed my gaze and rolled his eyes at the dog. I really needed to invest some time in potty training her a little better.
"We’ve got the Jet Ski, and cigarette boat, along with the fishing boat we found on the supply run. Nancy should stay back with Gabby. Then the rest of you can go in two waves. Pull up close to the group and get their attention. We know sound and the sight of a warm meal attracts them. So, we lead them away from the area and down the river. Once the first wave is gone, the second group can make an attempt to lead the rest away. Meanwhile, Lowell and I will take the fishing boat in the other direction and double back on foot and come up behind the group."
Jake considered his plan for a minute. "That’s a lot of speculation. We don’t know if it’s clear beyond the area. What if you run into another group?"
"Then we either make a stand, or hightail it back to the water. Anyone else have a better idea?"
I suggested we just pull up anchor and go as a group but was shot down. The group didn’t want to risk wasting fuel or time in the event Mel’s story had been a lie.
* * *
Jake and Meg teamed up for round one. Jake drove the Jet Ski over to the sea wall, making sure not to get close enough to become lunch. Meg hooted and hollered, shouting obscenities at the rotted pieces of meat. Like we saw as Finn rowed away, those closest to the edge were pushed off by their brethren trying to get a front row seat at the meal trough. While they were distracted, Seth and Lowell set off in the fishing boat. When we could no longer see the boat, Jake started to slowly steer the watercraft away from the area.
"I can’t believe this is actually working," marveled Adam. He was right. At least half the crowd peeled off and followed after them. It was slow going, but that just meant Seth would have enough time to find a zombie-free zone and start coming around the back.
The sound of the Jet Ski was barely audible at this distance and it looked like they had gotten all the attention they were going to. Round two: Adam, Will, Dale, and I,
loaded up into the boat and started banging pans and singing random songs, badly I might add. Dale surprised us all by belting out a little ditty. I think it was "Oops, I Did it Again."
"Hey, Dale, tell me you are not singing Britney Spears." I was a little ashamed myself for being able to identify the song, seeing as I was more of a heavy metal fan. I could recall numerous drunken trysts in the mosh pit in my day.
Blushing bright red, he looked like a little kid. "It was the first thing that came to mind."
"Hell, keep going. If we can’t get them all to follow us, maybe the rest will commit zombiecide from the torture. That’s some psychological torture." We kept up our taunting and drifted lazily toward the Jet Ski. We had succeeded in garnering attention from all but a small handful. I hoped they could get to the helicopter while the remaining zombies were facing our direction. This meant staying in their line of sight so they wouldn’t begin to wander off.
I started to think Dale wasn’t quite right in the head. He stopped singing Britney and went into the Cadence rendition of Sam Cooke’s "Chain Gang." Unzipping his pants, he whipped out his pecker and actually attempted to urinate on the crowd. Don’t ask me how the hell he thought his stream would reach them. While his stream was nowhere near forceful enough to hit the zombies, the wind caught it. I was the lucky one, for I was standing to his left and the wind blew to the right. Will on the other hand, was not so lucky. The wind misted him in urine and he jumped to the other side of the boat like he was avoiding a land mine.
"Jesus Christ, Dale. You pissed on me!"
Dale replied with a maniacal laugh and shouted. "Cocked and locked, motherfuckers!"
I leaned into Adam and whispered conspiratorially, "I think we need to keep an eye on this one."
He responded with raised eyebrows and a shake of his head.
The sound of the rotors spinning brought my attention back to the land in front of us. We had to yell even louder to be heard over the noise. Small clusters began to break off from the pack to seek out the new, and obtainable, prey.
It was all pretty much uneventful from there. There was a single gunshot and then we saw the helicopter rise into the air. They must have found a lurker in the cockpit because as it lifted higher, a limp body fell from the open door and splashed down into the water. Lowell gave us a salute before he closed the door and they flew off in the direction of Sanibel.
Our group cheered in unison and high fives were given all around. This was it, a new beginning. We would have our happy ending after all. Adam piloted us toward the houseboat. As we rode back, I noticed shapes under the water. Leaning over to get a better view, I realized it was zombies. Those that had fallen in were standing at the bottom, faces looking up at us in hunger and arms reaching toward the sky. I shuddered at the creepy scene and moved to the center of the boat. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Back on the houseboat, the air was alive with animated conversations. We each speculated on what Seth would find; all talk centered on the island still being safe and inhabited by the living.
"Hey, guys?" Meg addressed the group. "How are they going to get back to the boat?"
We all looked at her in confusion. It took a minute, but our large planning snafu caused me to do a mental head slap. Followed by an actual one. We had planned how to get the helicopter off the ground and to Sanibel, but not how to get it back to the ground and get the boys back to the boat when they returned. It wasn’t as if the zombies would just wander away and leave them a swath of land to set down safely. We all groaned in unison.
"Well," said Jake. "I guess we’ll have to hope Seth and Lowell have more brains than all of us combined."
* * *
Chapter 27
Living the High Life
Less than three hours later we heard the sound of an approaching engine. Our small group gathered at the deck’s railing and waved, cheering as Seth’s black hair came into focus flying wildly in the wind. The green fishing boat carrying him held two other men dressed in fatigues. Seth lifted his left arm and returned our waves. The smile on his face was so broad we could see it even at this distance. Slowing on approach, he let the boat idle in closer to us.
Our three saviors joined us on deck and hugs were shared all around. Seth delivered the happy news that Mel’s story held truth. Sanibel was a safe zone and they were happy to embrace our new group. Survivors had been trickling in for weeks and the island now housed more than six hundred refugees. Seth was welcomed with open arms by his comrades in green, many men he knew from a lifetime of servitude in the armed forces.
Overwhelmed by emotion, Nancy fell to her knees and wept openly. Realization dawned on all of us that the need to live in constant terror would soon be over. The only thing left for us to do was pull up anchor and take the short trip to our new home.
Will took up position at the helm, and we followed the little green boat along the coast. I was humbled by the utter desolation as we passed empty houses and streets congested with abandoned cars. The grumbling of the boat engines was the only sound to cut through the silence.
A wake of undead, ripe with decay, trailed slowly along the edge of the sea as we passed by. Many rose up from a dormant state, others stepped out of doors left ajar in the initial days. While, still, others trickled slowly toward the sounds of life from places unknown. I wondered what these creatures did in the absence of human stimuli.
Our salvation came into focus as we neared the island. Small fires burned close to shore. Instead of the uncontrolled burn of destruction, these flames appeared to be intentional, most likely for warmth or cooking. Visions of camping with old friends came to mind and the memory sat like a heavy weight on my heart, overbearing and threatening to pull me under.
A group of people had amassed at the edge of a boat dock. Panic rippled through my chest at the similarity between this group and the undead that had lined the water’s edge for the last few weeks. I felt my breath quicken and my knees locked with an audible click. Stars began to twinkle in front of my eyes as fear began to consume me. Jake squeezed my hand.
"Are you okay? What’s going on with you?" he asked.
I looked into his face and my fear melted to tolerable levels as his eyes bore into mine with concern. "I’m fine. It’s just…" I swallowed the lump in my throat and squeezed my eyes shut to take in a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, I reopened them and looked up at Jake’s concerned face. "They just reminded me of what was waiting for us back in Cape Coral."
Shaking off the mental image of rotting corpses, I strengthened my resolve and reluctantly looked toward the group again. Now closer, I could make out individual features. There were no bloody corpses waiting to make a meal of us. It was a group of healthy people waving us in.
Even during the worst of times, I had reveled in the fact that I never succumbed to seasickness on the houseboat. But as Jake helped me down and I took those first few tentative steps on land, the world began to spin and my knees felt wobbly. Sick began to rise in my throat and I had to close my eyes and get down on all fours in an effort to regain my equilibrium. When the sound of retching permeated my ears, I realized I wasn’t the only one having difficulty.
Opening one eye, ever so slightly, I found Nancy heaving over the side of the dock. Daphne was still attempting to stay upright, but she was walking like someone on the way home from tying one on at the local pub. Her attempt was futile and she flopped over and fell to her side. I felt her pain when she gave me that pitiful look. And I returned the same look right back at her.
"Sorry, pup, no sympathy from me at the moment."
The men just shook their heads at us females and came to our aid. Jake helped me to my feet while Adam scooped up Nancy and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Gabby, who had flitted off down the dock with excitement, came back for Daphne before skipping off again to begin introducing herself.
* * *
The first thing I noticed was the smell. I’d gotten so used to the smell of rot and decay
that clung to the air around the boat. With my eyes closed, I took long, slow breaths in through my nose. I could feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I blindly took in my surroundings. Birds were singing in the trees. The laughter of children nearby was like music to my ears. The key word being children. For so long it was only Gabby and our very small group.
We were given a tour of the island. Well, at least the part of the island that was deemed safe. Survivors had cleared a two square-mile portion from the coast inland and managed to put up fencing and barricades to secure the perimeter.
At any given time at least fifty people patrolled the borders to ensure the community’s safety. Best of all, Home Depot was smack dab in the center of the community. The propane tanks stored there alone meant we weren’t going to be forced to cook over a campfire. Four cooking stations—north, south, east, and west—were set up in accessible locations and meals were eaten family style. Compared to how we’d lived, which realistically wasn’t that shabby, Sanibel was looking like a five-star resort.
Since real estate was limited, we were provided housing to share among the group. Jake and I shared a blue two-bedroom bungalow with Meg and Will. I decided to claim gas as my new religion. A gas water heater and working plumbing meant flushing toilets and a real shower. Hell, even a hot bath was in the realm of possibility!
Nancy, Adam, and Gabby were given a three bedroom home a couple streets away. The thought of them being out of shouting distance gave me anxiety, but the house was too perfect to pass up. The previous owners had a little girl Gabby’s age. Her new room was a purple palace; the walls, bedding, and even the carpet were different shades of purple. An accent wall was covered in over-sized hand painted flowers, and the room was full of dolls and fun toys. A small tea party table sat in one corner, and Adam was immediately roped in to a tea date with Gabby and her new stuffed dog Webster.