The main ports on the West are also in densely populated areas. Except in Scotland or the Isle of Man. Now, if the U.N. ships are coming from America, they would most likely dock on the West Coast.”
“So it looks like the West Coast is the most likely, man.”
“Yes. We don’t know for sure but I think it’s the best bet. Luckily, we’re sailing off the West Coast at the moment. The question is which port would they use?” I discounted the Isle of Man because that would require the army to transport all the survivors from mainland Britain to the Isle. The port must be on the mainland but in a less-populated area.
“Scotland?” Lucy suggested.
I looked at the map. It seemed logical. That would mean we would have to sail north along the coast to get into the right area. But the Scottish coastline was huge. How would we know where the ships were headed?
“If we get close enough, we should be able to pick up their radio communications,” Mike said. “There’s some equipment on the bridge that we can use. But we need to get in range.”
It was a long shot. The area we were talking about was huge and we didn’t even know the time, never mind the place, that the ships would arrive. So we planned to sail up and down the Scottish cost until we picked up radio communications or saw the ships coming across the Atlantic. I didn’t hold out much hope for the plan. Unless we found some more information soon, or even evidence that U.N. ships were actually coming, we would probably spend the rest of our days sailing around the British coast, raiding the mainland for food and supplies. The Big Easy was probably going to become our permanent home.
Even that future looked grim if the rest of the world decided to nuke Britain.
In that case, The Big Easy would become our tomb as we all died of radiation poisoning.
Our chance of finding those ships was slim but it was the only chance we had. We had no other choice. I looked at Mike. “Can you plot a course to get us to Scotland?”
“Sure thing, man.”
The bedroom that Lucy and I were expected to share was small, wood-panelled, and contained twin beds. After a shower, I changed into one of the T-shirts I had plundered from the marine shop, a black shirt with a green logo that said ‘Sail To Your Destiny’ above a picture of a sailboat. With the addition of a fresh pair of boxers from the same pile of plundered goods, I felt fresh and energized. I had found some paperback thrillers in the living room and planned to spend a couple of hours reading.
I climbed into bed and lay there for a moment before cracking open the book I had chosen. The swaying motion of The Big Easy lulled me into a sleepiness that crept over me like a heavy blanket.
I closed my eyes and slipped into a dream where I was sailing across miles of ocean to reach an island scorched by nuclear destruction and plagued by zombies.
sixteen
When I got up top the next morning, Lucy was on the sun deck looking out over the sea. The sun was already up and the sky was clear. A good day for zombies. Lucy wore a ‘Sail To Your Destiny’ T-shirt the same as mine. It was long enough to reach down to her knees and I wondered if she was wearing anything beneath it. Her hair blew in the gentle breeze as she leaned on the rail, her eyes on the distant shoreline. The air smelled faintly of sea salt with an underlying tang of rotten meat. Even at this distance from the mainland, we could smell the monsters.
“Hey,” I said as I approached, ‘did you come to bed last night?”
She looked at me and smiled. I felt my heart melt. “I did. You were fast asleep.”
I had really gone under fast last night. The stress of the last few days must have become too much for my body and mind. They had simply shut down. Actually, my mind had stayed active; I could still remember a nightmare of walking across a zombie-infested land which had been ravaged by a nuclear winter. I shuddered. Even when I was deep in the middle of gaming weekends involving the most horrific video games, I never had nightmares like that one.
Lucy saw the troubled look on my face. “You OK, Alex?”
“Yeah, I just had a nightmare last night.”
“Me too. Then I woke up and realized it was real.”
“At least we’re still alive.”
She stared at the dark shape of the coastline. “Sometimes I think we might be better off dead.”
“Don’t you mean better off undead?”
“No, not one of them. They seem so tortured. I mean really dead. At peace.”
I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Lucy was usually so resilient despite the circumstances. There was a lightness about her that lifted my spirits when I felt low. If she spiralled into depression, it wouldn’t be long before I followed.
“It’s peaceful on the boat,” I said, “and we’re safe. Those things can’t hurt us out here.”
“I know. We’re lucky to be alive. It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling that it won’t be long before we’re fighting to stay alive again.”
I went inside and got the radio. Maybe some music would lift the mood. It might also wake Mike and Elena. I was anxious to start our journey to Scotland. The sooner we got there, the more chance we had of intercepting those rescue ships.
Lucy saw the radio in my hand as I came back out on deck and smiled.
“Care for some early morning music?” I put the radio on one of the padded benches.
“As long as it’s not Survivor Reach Out.”
“Yeah, that was a bit depressing.” I clicked the radio on and Bon Jovi filled the air, singing about living on a prayer.
Lucy laughed and head-banged along. I did some lame dancing and air guitar, which made her laugh even harder.
“You’re crazy,” she shouted over the music.
That made me add in even more ridiculous moves to my heavy metal repertoire and as the solo began, I contorted my face into a grimace as I played my air guitar.
Lucy joined me, playing an air guitar of her own and leaning her back against mine as if we were posing on a stage and playing for a crowd.
The song ended and we both collapsed on the bench, breathing heavily.
Lucy looked at me, her blue eyes sparkling in the morning light.
Zombie apocalypse or not, I was glad I was here with her right now.
Something passed between us and I felt for the first time that she might actually like me. Really like me, in the same way I liked her. It had taken the end of the world to make it happen but I might have actually met a girl who wasn’t a red light professional or somebody on an internet hunt for human contact with anybody at all.
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes locked on mine.
I did the same, feeling her breath against my lips.
My heart hammered in my chest.
“For fuck’s sake, you two, turn the fucking music down.”
The moment was gone. Mike stood in the doorway, his eyes bleary, his hair sticking up.
Jimi Hendrix was on the radio singing “Are You Experienced?”
Lucy and I parted. I felt the loss immediately. Turning to Mike, I said, “We need to get moving, Mike. The sooner we get into Scottish waters, the better.”
He looked at us for a moment, his eyes flickering from me to Lucy and back again as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle. “OK,” he said. “Let me get dressed first. And turn that fucking radio down, man.” He disappeared inside.
Lucy stood up. “I guess I should get dressed too.” She went over to the radio and Jimi faded as she turned the volume down. She went inside quickly.
Fuck. Now she felt embarrassed at what had almost happened between us. I didn’t blame her, I guess. She was way out of my league and she knew it. We both knew it. Everybody on board knew it. Even the zombies onshore probably fucking knew it.