Fools' Apocalypse

by Anderson Atlas

  “The name is fitting,” Markus comments. “Pioneer.”

  Hana takes the oar from Isabella. She buckles down and rows as fast as she can.

  “A lot of puppets on the dock.” Isabella counts. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  The main dock is taller than the deck of the Pioneer, but there’s a lower wood deck that they can use to get to the ship. The puppets seem to eye them thoughtfully. They anticipate where the rowboat is going to dock. “Stop!” Hana calls out. “We can’t pull up to the lower deck. The puppets will overflow that area and may get on our boat.”

  “So pull up to the end of the big dock. There’s a ladder there.” Ian says. “We’ll get their attention and push past them. Then we should have enough time to get to the Pioneer and cut the lines.”

  Markus pulls his bat off the floor of the boat then hands it to Ben. “This is better than your two-by-four.”

  “Oh, I’m being volunteered?”

  “Stay here if you want. I got it covered.” Isabella says.

  “What about your ankle?” Josh asks, but Isabella is on the move.

  Ian and Hana row to the end of the dock. Isabella slips on her backpack and two rifles. She grabs the handles of a ladder rung buried in the wooden pilings and climbs up and onto the top deck.

  “Hand me my Beater,” she orders. Rice hands her the bloodied broomstick. “I’ll clear the dock. When it’s clear, run to the Pioneer as fast as you can. The puppets are slow, but strong. Don’t let them touch you.”

  Hana likes how she calls them puppets. It reminds her they are empty vessels for those alien root-things and not humans. She wonders if any thoughts or feelings remain inside the dead. They move without experience, like baby fauns, and they scream like animals and move in concert like humans in crowd-think mode.

  One reaches for Isabella even before she gets off the ladder, but she grabs its sleeve and pulls. The puppet falls off the pier and splashes next to the rowboat. She leaps off the ladder and lands on her feet. A puppet grabs at her, but she spins and cracks the thing across its skull. She thrusts upward, and her stick imbeds itself inside the puppet’s jaw so deep that when she wrenches the stick up, the jaw, skin, and muscle rip off entirely. Black blood splatters her face. She spits it out and front kicks the puppet off the dock. Another puppet reaches for her. She kicks the side of its knee with her heel. The femur snaps and rips out of the skin. Blood gushes out, splashing on the dock like a ruptured water balloon. It still reaches, though it has crumpled into a lump. She steps aside, snatches its hand, twists it around, and drops to her knees. The forearm rips off. Isabella tosses the arm over the side where it splashes into the water two feet from Hana.

  Isabella pauses and looks down. “NOW!” She takes a few deep breaths and runs to the next puppet, aims the shotgun at its knee, and blasts the leg in two. She runs to the next one and kicks it square in the chest so hard Hana can hear its ribs crack. Another falls off the edge of the dock. The wake rocks the rowboat. She squeezes off round after round, kicks and pushes with the training of a black belt until the dock is clear.

  Ian climbs up the piling, tying the rowboat’s painter to a wrung so it wouldn’t float away. Ben gets out first, without consideration for the women and children, followed by Rice and Andy. The puppet, whose kneecaps were blown off by Isabella, grabs Ben’s ankle and he cries out. Rice picks up Andy, setting him on her hip, and runs toward the Pioneer. Ben bashes the puppet with his bat.

  Tanis leaps onto the ladder, rocking the boat heavily. He scampers up as fast as he can and runs past Ben. Hana is right behind him the entire time, feeling on edge. A strong protective instinct fills her body. She doesn’t have any kids, but she’s a woman. Behind her, Josh slips on a pool of black blood and falls to his knees. Hana stops and helps him up.

  Body parts are everywhere, twitching, flopping. Hana pulls her pistol from her holster. She knows it won’t do much good, but if one grabs her, she can buy some time.

  Hana fire a shot into the head of a puppet that has white sun block smeared on its nose and a camera draped around its neck. The tourist bleeds black. Hana gets a whiff of something rancid, and it nauseates her. She keeps moving, aiming at downed, snarling faces as she hustles past. There’s slick black splatters and guts everywhere, but no matter how dissected by violence, they’re still reaching and grabbing, moaning and screaming. Why they’re making so much noise. Are they communicating with each other?

  Markus and Hana follows the others toward a metal staircase leading to a lower dock. Ian had ripped down the small security gate that keeps people off the stairs. Tanis, Rice, and Andy head down and run to the Pioneer. Hana stops and grabs Ian’s arm, “What do I need to do?”

  “Just get on board,” Ian says quickly. “We do this fast,” he says, nodding.

  She climbs down, crosses the lower dock and flies up the short steps to the Pioneer. The boat hardly rocks under her weight, but she feels its motion on the water. The deck is huge.

  Ian looks back to where the rowboat is tied to the dock. They might need it if they have to abandon ship. Without thinking, he runs back to where the rowboat is and unties the painter and runs back to the Pioneer, guiding the rowboat along the dock. The screeching makes his teeth clench; the broken bodies make him sick. Ian tosses the line onto the deck, landing it over one of the safety ropes, loosely.

  Isabella isn’t surrounded anymore but takes puppets down as they get close. She’s tossing them off the other side of the dock making it look so easy. Even though she’s a bit of a pill, Hana is glad she’s with them. She is tougher than most men and wants everyone to know it.

  “Isabella!” Hana yell. She turns, goes down the steps and up onto the Pioneer. Ian is the last one on so he kicks the steps away from the edge.

  They’re all aboard. The sun beats on Hana’s back, and she’s sweating like a wrung out sponge. Though the puppets are massing, falling off the upper dock, and crossing the lower one, she knows they’re going to be safe. This is all going according to plan. At last she feels like she can really inhale and stand solid. They’d been on that little boat for so long she’d lost her sense of stability. The Pioneer is big and solid, and she loves it!

  A screech pulls Hana’s attention back to the horde. Dead people have overrun the dock completely.

  Ian runs to the front of the boat and unties a spring line. Isabella loads and pumps her shotgun. She shoots a twisted face as it tears at one of the bumpers. The others try to climb onto the boat.

  Ben and Ian bat off the dead. Isabella smacks them with the butt of her shotgun.

  “There are two more lines tied to the dock, Ian!” Markus yells.

  “Chop them!” Ian replies. “Chop them all!”

  Isabella flips her gun around and shoots point blank at a line. Hana runs to the last one and unties it. The Pioneer is free. She rocks away from the dock. A handful of puppets fall into the water. Hana reaches out and grabs the side railing. There goes that stable feeling.

  The boat floats to the middle of the harbor lane. In a few minutes, it’ll hit the huge boat called the Peking.

  “Find the diesel and see if you can turn it on,” Ian says. The boat is big. Its black painted masts are shiny and slick and tower over the deck like colossal, tactical batons.

  Sailboats have always scared Hana. Ropes hang on hooks and in clusters by the masts and on the side railings. Rope ladders lead up both sides of the masts, all the way to the top. Most of the deck is flat, except for a pilothouse back by the wheel, just behind the rear mast, and a waist-high sitting area between. In the front of the boat is a really long bowsprit—a large wood pole that juts out from the front of the ship. All the sails are tied up.

  Ian yells out from the front. Hana hurries over to him. He’s got a long pole with a hook on it and he’s trying to snag the rowboats painter.

  “Hold me. The line fell and I can’t quite reach it,” Ian says. Hana holds him by the waist and lets him lean over the edge. His pole snags the line and pull
s it in.

  “Smart move, saving the rowboat,” Hana says.

  “I figure, since none of us are too experienced, it would be a good idea to have a lifeboat. There’s a small inflatable back there, but we all wouldn’t fit on it comfortably.” Hana follows him as he walks the painter to the back of the Pioneer then ties it to the rails.

  “Cabin is locked,” Markus says.

  The pilothouse is by the rear mast. Hana goes to the door and kicks it open like she’s raiding a drug house. Finding the motor is easy. According to Josh, it’s a rebuilt Yanmar Diesel. It has definitely been upgraded since the thirties. Hana didn’t have time to find the keys so she pulls out a multi-tool from her police belt and pops off the control panel. Sure enough, there’s an electronic ignition. She rips it off. No need for that anymore. She hot-wires the starter just like she did at the boathouse in Swindler’s Cove. The engine fires up. It sputters. Hana pulls on the throttle, giving it strength. It purrs solidly.

  She runs back up top.

  Ian’s already at the wheel. He finds the throttle lever and bumps it into gear. The motor catches the prop, and the boat starts moving forward. She falls to her butt and tries to stabilize her chemistry. Tanis runs to her and gives her a hug. She can feel his relief.

  Ben yells, holding the bat over his head like a victorious warrior. Markus puts his Bible to his forehead and thanks God. Rice runs to Ian and jumps up and down, holding onto his shoulders. Josh swears at the puppets receding into the background and Isabella sits quietly and cleans her face and arms. Hana can tell Isabella is happy underneath that thick skin. She radiates relief whether she wants to or not.

  “You okay?” Hana askes Tanis.

  “I’m okay.”

  “TO EDEN!” Ian yells as the city of New York slips away.

  Chapter 1.23

  Tanis

  Going Home

  Tanis told Hana he was fine, but he’s not. He feels better now that they’re on this gigantic boat, but what he really wants is to see his ma. He accepts that his dad is probably one of those puppets, but what about Ma? Tanis doesn’t have any brothers or sisters to worry about, but he has a dog named Kat and a fish named Birdy.

  “What’s so funny?” Hana asks. Tanis tell her about his pets. “That’s great. I like those names,” she says with a big smile.

  Tanis goes to the side of the boat and watches as the tall skyscrapers get smaller and smaller. Hana puts her arm around him. “I’m glad you got my back,” he tells her and flips off the puppets that are clustered at the dock, looking dumb as rocks.

  Tanis sees Andy looking at him like a wounded puppy. “It’s okay, buddy.” He takes the boy’s shoulder and guides him to the railing. “Go ahead and flip those bastards off. Put up your middle finger and hold the others down.”

  Andy’s eyes narrow. “I know how to flip the bird. I’m not a baby.”

  Tanis laughs. “Got it.”

  The three of them flip off the puppets and yell.

  After some silence, Hana pushes Tanis gently. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I wanna go home.” The hum of the motor is nicer than the silence in the rowboat. The speed is nice, too.

  She takes a deep breath. “So do I.”

  “I’m going to find Rice.” Andy walks away, his head low.

  “How do I know my ma isn’t locked up in our house waiting for me?” Tanis asks Hana.

  “We don’t.”

  “I think I wanna know. And Andy will probably want to know if his parents are out there.”

  Hana takes Tanis to Ian who’s steering the boat through the Upper Bay.

  “I need to know if it would be possible to make a pit stop,” Hana asks.

  Ian must be feeling jazzed and pumped after the successful procurement of their new boat. “Full tank of gas. No way to get attacked by the walkers. Where you thinking? Want to go to Greece real quick?”

  “How ’bout Forest Hills?” Hana asks. “Tanis wants to see if his mother survived.”

  “Whoa!” Ben approaches, butting his nose in. “Let’s stick with the plan. We go south until we find the containment line. If there isn’t one and this virus has crawled across the fuckin’ continent, then we go to Cuba and find the nearest Mai Tai. If civilization is Eden, then it’s Eden or bust.”

  “You may not give a shit about your family, but I do,” Tanis snaps. “What if my ma is waiting for me? She could be locked up in the house, yo. You don’t know.”

  “Sorry, Tanis,” Ian answers. “I have to agree with Ben. This boat needs to get us to safety. We know that both sides of the river are infested with walkers, and that means Forest Hills is a death trap. If we have to go thousands of miles south, we need to be smart about it. Any deviation may bring us too much trouble. We’re in survival mode.”

  “Let’s vote on it,” Hana suggests. “It’s just a bit north and won’t take us too far out of our way. You can stay on the boat.”

  “I can almost guarantee you, she ain’t gonna to be there, kid,” Ben says.

  Tanis wants to box his head in. “You’re here,” He replies, then repeats Hana’s idea, “Can’t we vote?”

  “This isn’t a democracy. Not now. Once we get to safety, we can try to find a way to contact your folks.” Ian folds his arms across his chest.

  “What do you have against voting, Ian?” Markus approaches with his Bible clutched to his chest. “Maybe we should vote. It seems to have worked for our culture in the past.”

  Ian laughs. “It rarely works! Voting has lowered standards, increased bureaucracy, and rendered entire environmental efforts dead. Vote for a peaceful President; you still go to war. Vote for fair judges; they still get bought off. We vote, and we get shit. Politicians spend more time campaigning than actually trying to fix anything.”

  “I agree with you about voting,” Tanis interrupts Ian. “It’s too easy to cheat it. So let’s not vote. Let me barter instead. Get me as close as you can. I’ll be gone for five hours. Any longer and you can leave without me.”

  “I’m confused. Where does bartering come in here?” Ben says in his ass-face tone.

  “I’ll bring us back at least twenty gallons of diesel fuel,” Tanis clarifies. “So the barter is, Ben, fuel for time.” Tanis sneers at Ben then turns back to Ian. “I know where to get the gas.”

  Markus pleads with Ian. “Let the boy try. He is, after all, a child in need of closure.”

  “I’m not a child, old man,” Tanis snaps. I know more than most adults. I can program a registry bug, squat on a multibillion-dollar corporation’s website, rebuild any PC, operate it with style, and I can get a hacker into the mainframe control system of a secret Department of Defense’s premier satellite management office.

  He feels a pang of guilt after that last thought, like some invisible hand reaches through his rib cage and squeezes his heart. Tanis hasn’t thought about the computer virus it since he was trapped in the DOD building.

  Ian nods, “Fine, li’l man. Good deal. I’ll even help you.”

  “I will, too,” Hana offers.

  “Sorry, I ain’t dyin’ for your closure, kid,” Isabella says as she crosses her arms. “But we do need the fuel. Maybe some other shit.”

  Ben looks surprised then rolls his eyes. “Someone has to stay with the boat!”

  “That’s you.” Isabella snaps. Ben steps away from the group.

  “We go to the house and bring back Tanis’s mom, plus the fuel and any other supplies we can carry,” Ian says, addressing everyone. He looks at Josh. “Up for a shopping spree with Isabella?”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” Josh answers.

  “I’ll help shop.” Markus ads.

  Rice looks at Ian. “I-I can’t do it. I won’t put Andy through that either.”

  Ian shushes her, “No worries, Rice. Stay with Ben. You three will be fine on the boat.”

  Ian turns the Pioneer northeast. The compass turns in concert, slowly.

  Tanis hopes that he’s not making a colossal
mistake.

  A rumble comes from downtown as a building collapses. Dust blooms from the feet of the skyscrapers. They’re far enough away so they don’t feel threatened, just sad. Other skyscrapers look as if they’re shedding skin, exposing steel bones to the yellow stained sky.

  Ian sails—well, drives with the engine—down the Upper Bay and hugs the coast for twenty minutes. Tanis can still smell the smoke, but for a moment, he forgets the dead are walking. He forgets until they near the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. The suspension bridge used to be impressive, silver and baby blue with tall towers that looked like tuning forks jammed into the sea bed. The only things left are the massive structures on either side of the sound. The middle is completely gone. Tanis had seen it lit up in vibrant blue lights at night, and when storms come in, the clouds hide the tall towers.

  The pointy-roofed houses along the rocky beach are hollow and dark, no sign of comfort or happiness, so is the Cony Island Lighthouse. At the base of the lighthouse are a thousand walkers stumbling around, looking for something to claw at. Ian steers the boat around the bend and there’s Cony Island beach and boardwalk. Men, women, and children of every age stumble along the sandy shore. They’re in shorts and t-shirts and sundresses. A hotdog stand lays on its side in the surf, beaten over and over by the waves and a tall apartment complex behind the beachfront burns like the stub of a cigar; another one lay toppled on its side. The Colossus roller coaster, the rickety wood one that was built in the early nineteen hundreds, still stands and the aquarium is down the way, a silent graveyard for the dolphins left in the pools and the hundreds of colorful fish in the tanks. Tanis doesn’t cry anymore, he’s all out of tears, for now anyway.

  The Pioneer passes under the Marine Parkway Bridge, or what’s left of it. The span had been blown to bits like all the other bridges. Ian has to turn sharply to avoid hitting a cement pillar poking up from the water. Metal girders and large sections of roadway jut out of the water, but the boat passes through safely.