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.
Seth, Lowell and Ellis moved into the small base the military had claimed. The three soldiers, plus Will, were put into the patrol rotation the day after we arrived. Seth’s strength in coordinating reconnaissance and supply missions was put to good use, and he spent his days in the tents planning with the other officers.
Everyone on the island had a role to play. Jake and I spent the first two days in the house with Meg. The adjustment period proved difficult for us. It wasn’t as easy as one would think to go from constant tension and hyper vigilance back to normal everyday life. In that time, we only had one knock at the door. Apprehension and a learned fear forced us to crawl on our bellies to the front window to see what was out there before we opened it.
On the third day, our rigid bodies had relaxed and we felt ready to brave a walk to the center of our small town. Since the market for a computer programmer was nil, Jake reenlisted into military life and joined the others on patrols.
Meg decided to forgo her psych degree and instead elected to help with childcare. Many children had been orphaned in the initial outbreak and a small home had been established for them. Women suffering the loss of a child took an active role in ensuring that those kids wanted for nothing.
A small physician’s clinic had been repurposed for use as a small treatment facility. There was only one doctor in the group of survivors. When I paid him a visit, he was ecstatic to find I was a week shy of graduating from nursing school and immediately offered me a position. We weren’t set up to handle much, but just knowing there was at least some medical staff available put the people at ease.
Doc Robbins was a forty-something gastroenterologist. Translation, he’s the guy that gets up and personal with your colon when you have poop problems. Pretty fitting, considering the extreme change in diet we’d all undergone.
Ever watch that show Survivor? Jake and I never missed an episode. They never discuss the result that a rice diet has on your system. And you just know that when they win the luxury challenges and get whisked away to eat that five-course meal, they’re pissing out their ass for the next two days. Raging diarrhea wouldn’t really make for good ratings, so I get why they keep it on the down-low.