Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) by Shana Festa

survived as a whole unit.
    My usually easy-going brother-in-law was all
business. He'd slipped back into soldier mode and was inspecting
the boat and the hatch entrance with a critical eye.
    "Is it just the two of you?" he asked.
    "Yes."
    "Have either of you come into contact with
the infected recently?"
    "Not since the first day," Peter replied.
    "You've been on this boat for two months?" I
asked, shocked at their ability to have survived this long.
    Peter laughed, a mournful sound. "Has it been
two months already? I stopped counting the days after the third
week."
    "Do you mind if we come aboard? I'm sure you
can understand our reluctance to take your word at face value."
    Peter sighed. "Do what you need to do. We've
got nothing to hide. Hell, we've got nothing to show either."
    His attempt at gallows humor hit closer to
home than he knew.
    Vinny lifted his M16, not pointing it at the
man, but ready to shoot if need be. Jake pushed on the throttle
enough to coast us into the other boat and the hulls made a
screeching sound as they rubbed together. I caught the rope Peter
flung over and tied it off on the nearest deck mooring, connecting
the two vessels together.
    Jake made eye contact with Vinny and nodded
almost imperceptibly. He had his brother's back, and if Peter tried
anything, he wouldn't live to regret it. Just before crossing over
to the smaller boat, Vinny asked if he had any weapons on him, and
was answered with a no.
    The boat itself wasn't large, and there were
no nooks and crannies for a person to hide on deck. Vinny did a
quick sweep and continued to the hatch, calling out to the occupant
before descending into the dark cabin. I heard muffled voices from
within, nothing I could make out, and Vinny returned a moment
later, his face ashen and grim.
    "Clear," he called up to Jake. "Emma, I think
you need to come over here."
    I was never good at math, but I could easily
put two and two together; this was a medical issue. He held out his
hands to help me over, and putting the pole down, I hopped the
short distance to the sailboat.
    The cabin was lit only by the small portholes
and open hatch, bathing the small room in an almost ethereal light.
A frail, emaciated woman lay on the bed, sheets stained with urine
and feces. Pillows propped her body into an upright position, and
she looked to be in the end stage of the disease. The sickly odor
in the confined space reminded me of my rotation at Hospice, not
quite the smell of death, but the dying.
    I fell into nursing mode, visually assessing
Lydia the instant I stepped down into the cabin. A variety of pill
bottles were atop a small vanity—all of them empty.
    "Hi, Lydia, I'm Emma. I'm a nurse. Do you
mind if I sit with you for a bit?" I smiled at her, not one of
those fake smiles, a genuine I'm-happy-to-meet-you smile. She
returned the gesture and made a slight motion for me to join her.
The little movement from my sitting on the edge of her bed caused
her to wince.
    "It's lovely to meet you, Emma," Lydia said
with great effort. She was having difficulty breathing, even at
rest, and her accessory muscles flared with each labored intake of
air. When she spoke, she did so in broken speech, stopping after
each word for a breath. As she wheezed out the last word, she
choked and began to cough. There was nothing I could do for her but
show her compassion; all that was left for Lydia was the best
palliative care I could offer.
    "Save your strength. I can do enough talking
for the both of us." I blinked back the tears that welled in my
eyes and put on a strong front. The last thing this woman needed
from me was pity. She didn't have much time left, days at most, and
I would do my best to allow her to die with dignity. Something I'd
been unable to do for anyone in a long time.
    "Lydia, would you mind if I did a physical
assessment on you? I'd like to see if there's anything I can do to
help." She nodded her head, indicating her permission. To make her
more comfortable, I