jump into the water. It is warm. The swim is not long and soon I join Katrina next to the boat. I climb up first and help her in. I look towards land, and the zombies have stopped at water’s edge. A couple fall in every once in a while when the crowd pushes them, but you can tell it is not on purpose. The ones that fall in do not resurface. Apparently I was right. Zombies can’t swim.
We clear the boat quickly. Not surprisingly it is empty. The sail boat will be tricky to operate with two people, especially one who has never done this before. But there is no choice and we should be able to pull it off.
“Do we leave tonight?” asks Katrina. The sun is out on the horizon, but lowering quickly.
“I have never operated a boat at night, but I think yes. I would rather use the onboard motor, but without a key, I am not sure we can.”
“So let’s look.” We do, and not to my surprise, we do not find it.
“Sailing it is.” A plane zooms overhead. Several of them. I am pretty sure they are jets. We sit and wait for bombs to be dropped. Nothing happens, but still I think this a bad sign.
“Are they going to bomb the city?”
“Maybe. Can’t say I blame them if they do, but we definitely want to get out of here before that happens. At the minimum, the entirety of south Florida is probably under a military quarantine. I am a bit worried about that to be honest.”
“You think they may stop us?”
“Yeah, that or worse. It is one of the reasons I want to do this at night. We have a better chance of sneaking through.”
“Yeah.” She hugs me and we kiss again. I begin adjusting the mainsheet and the jibsheet to get this cruise underway. I tell Katrina what to do and she helps. After a bit, we slowly begin to sail away from Brickell Avenue.
I look back at the Remington Flagler building. I think about Remington and wonder if he is still alive. I think about Miami. A city so full of life and color, truly an American icon. For all purposes, it is gone. Even if they took it back, it will never be the same. I think about Danny and Sarah, and Anne and Tom, and the guy across the street. All dead or headed that way. I wonder if that lady whose head I smashed in the arena was a lady or a zombie, and I wonder if it even matters anymore.
I think about how going to the building across the street would have been going “from house to house,” with no real chance for safety. I think the boat avoids that problem, but I am not sure. Is anywhere really “safe” now? Can the military really hold the James’ Strain in check? If we make it out of Florida, will the rest of the world still be okay? Was the lack of news a blackout or had the zombie horde already won?
And I wonder if us leaving Miami is the thing that spreads this version of the zombie horde. I don’t really know if we are infected. I have to admit to myself that I am willing to take that risk. For Katrina, sure, but also for myself. People have always had survival instincts, but with the rise of our comfortable way of life, those instincts became less important. In my world, those instincts are what separate the living from the dead.
I started by telling you this was not another one of those zombie stories were nobody had ever heard of the word “zombie.” That much is true. My story is different because of that, but as we sail in the darkness, I try to think of a zombie story that has a happy ending. I have seen them all. I can’t think of even one.
END
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We clear the boat quickly. Not surprisingly it is empty. The sail boat will be tricky to operate with two people, especially one who has never done this before. But there is no choice and we should be able to pull it off.
“Do we leave tonight?” asks Katrina. The sun is out on the horizon, but lowering quickly.
“I have never operated a boat at night, but I think yes. I would rather use the onboard motor, but without a key, I am not sure we can.”
“So let’s look.” We do, and not to my surprise, we do not find it.
“Sailing it is.” A plane zooms overhead. Several of them. I am pretty sure they are jets. We sit and wait for bombs to be dropped. Nothing happens, but still I think this a bad sign.
“Are they going to bomb the city?”
“Maybe. Can’t say I blame them if they do, but we definitely want to get out of here before that happens. At the minimum, the entirety of south Florida is probably under a military quarantine. I am a bit worried about that to be honest.”
“You think they may stop us?”
“Yeah, that or worse. It is one of the reasons I want to do this at night. We have a better chance of sneaking through.”
“Yeah.” She hugs me and we kiss again. I begin adjusting the mainsheet and the jibsheet to get this cruise underway. I tell Katrina what to do and she helps. After a bit, we slowly begin to sail away from Brickell Avenue.
I look back at the Remington Flagler building. I think about Remington and wonder if he is still alive. I think about Miami. A city so full of life and color, truly an American icon. For all purposes, it is gone. Even if they took it back, it will never be the same. I think about Danny and Sarah, and Anne and Tom, and the guy across the street. All dead or headed that way. I wonder if that lady whose head I smashed in the arena was a lady or a zombie, and I wonder if it even matters anymore.
I think about how going to the building across the street would have been going “from house to house,” with no real chance for safety. I think the boat avoids that problem, but I am not sure. Is anywhere really “safe” now? Can the military really hold the James’ Strain in check? If we make it out of Florida, will the rest of the world still be okay? Was the lack of news a blackout or had the zombie horde already won?
And I wonder if us leaving Miami is the thing that spreads this version of the zombie horde. I don’t really know if we are infected. I have to admit to myself that I am willing to take that risk. For Katrina, sure, but also for myself. People have always had survival instincts, but with the rise of our comfortable way of life, those instincts became less important. In my world, those instincts are what separate the living from the dead.
I started by telling you this was not another one of those zombie stories were nobody had ever heard of the word “zombie.” That much is true. My story is different because of that, but as we sail in the darkness, I try to think of a zombie story that has a happy ending. I have seen them all. I can’t think of even one.
END
More Information
MORE DEAD SECTOR SERIES BOOKS AVAILABLE AT:
AMAZON:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/horrorharvestpub
Twitter: @horrorharvestpub
For questions contact
[email protected]
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