“Of course.” He motioned for O’Neil to take a seat across the desk from him. “And how do things look?”
O’Neil slumped into the offered chair. “Not as bad as we thought. The last dock we raided gave us enough fuel for another two weeks or more.”
“And it only cost us the lives of six men,” Steven added bitterly.
O’Neil continued with the report. “Our ammunition stockpiles for small arms are holding up remarkably well, and Luke assures me that the new torpedo tubes he set up on the forward hull will work if we need them. Our only real pressing concern is food. Even with a rationing system in place and the reduced number of passengers and crew onboard, we’ll be out again in less than a week. The priority of the last raid was fuel for the Queen, so we didn’t have time to stock up like we needed.”
“They came crawling out of the woodwork,” Steven chuckled.
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“The dead, Mr. O’Neil. Regardless of where we put into port, they’re always there, waiting. We never have enough time.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t like the thought of touching land again anytime soon.”
Silence lingered in the room for a moment before O’Neil finally said, “Well, sir, what are we going to do?”
“Pray,” Steven answered. “Pray our little hearts out… And while we’re at it, bring me a map of the area we’re in now. Going back ashore is really our only option, isn’t it? Since the damn fish are just as dead as the rest of the world. Besides, even if they weren’t, you know we couldn’t catch enough to feed everyone aboard this ship. It’s just not possible with our limited equipment and resources.”
O’Neil left in search of a map, leaving Steven alone once again in the darkness of the room.
6
No stars lit the sky. Thick, dark clouds let loose what seemed a never-ending shower of rain. Brandon slept peacefully under the small tarp Riley had set up for him. Hannah rested against a tree, drenched to the bone. Her long red hair clung heavily to her neck and shoulders. Riley leaned over and put his arm around her. To him, she was beautiful no matter the circumstances.
“How far do you think we made it today?” she whispered, trying not to wake Brandon.
“A pretty good distance despite the weather,” he assured her. “We’re safe here for the night, I think.”
Hannah’s .30-.06 rested beside her, propped against the same tree. “Riley, do you think there’s anyone else left?”
“Sure, honey. Sure. There’s got to be. If we’ve made it this long, it just makes sense somebody else, somewhere, has made it too.”
“It’s not fair,” she muttered with a fresh wetness sliding down her cheeks. “Brandon doesn’t deserve this. He should be in school or playing video games. Think of all the things we took for granted, Riley, things that Brandon will never know except from our stories. If there are other people out there, we have to find them for his sake and start over somehow.”
Riley listened to the rain as it bounced off the leaves of the trees around them. “Hannah,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, Riley? It’s not your fault that the dead woke up or that we’re living through the end of the world. If it weren’t for you, Brandon and I would be dead. I’m grateful for the time we had in the cabin. How many other people even had a chance like that? To pretend things were going to be okay? Those months were like heaven. It’s just… it’s just Brandon.” She nestled her face into Riley’s chest and sobbed hard against the muscles she found there.
Riley’s arms encircled her. “I swear, Hannah, if there is a place to start again, we’ll find it or die trying. We’ve just got to hold it together for a while longer. Rain or no rain, we’ll start moving again in the morning.” Riley shut his eyes and thought only of his wife’s body pressed against his until dawn.
The clouds broke as the sun rose. Riley checked over their weapons to make sure the dampness hadn’t damaged them as Hannah and Brandon made a game of packing up and preparing to get on the move. The three shared stale granola bars for a quick breakfast and drank water from their canteens, then set out in the direction of the sun.
7
Scott didn’t like David’s plan. In fact he loathed it, thought it was insane. He had no better ideas to offer, however, so he went along with it. They’d carefully selected which guard to make their offer to, and the chance to go through with it had arrived. The guards were out in full force today, as it was time for the prisoners to be rounded up for a breeding session. Chief Hole in His Neck was in command, flanked by six more of the dead, each carrying some type of fully-automatic military weapon. His subordinates opened the gate to the pen and led the prisoners out.
Scott, having been a captive for weeks, knew how things worked. He gave Hole in His Neck the sign that he wanted to make a trade. Hole in His Neck studied him, then motioned for his men to leave Scott behind.
When the others were all outside of the pen, Hole in His Neck stepped inside. Scott could swear he saw the hunger burning in the dead man’s eyes.
“Screw it,” Scott mumbled, hopefully too quiet for Hole in His Neck to hear. He cleared his throat and said, “David and I don’t want to go inside today.”
A look of utter confusion settled on the guard’s features. A human male who did not want to get laid was beyond his understanding.
Scott saw the look and misread it. “David’s the new guy. The one you just brought in.”
Hole in His Neck signed the question “Why?” He wondered if Scott had lost his mind, and he toyed with the idea of dispatching the human then and there. He needed more help tending to the women’s needs anyway; a new dead body walking around would help with his duty roster.
Scott gritted his teeth, steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Look. We’re gay, okay? We just want to be by ourselves for an hour to breed in our own way. Just this one time,” he added hastily.
Hole in His Neck smiled. A sick wet sound came from his exposed windpipe as he tried to laugh. He shook his head and shoved Scott towards the gate.
“Wait!” Scott urged. “You haven’t even heard what I’m offering in return.”
Hole in His Neck paused. It was not permitted to feed on the prisoners unless they broke the rules or offered non-vital pieces of their meat freely. Scott had been anything but a normal prisoner, and Hole in His Neck admitted to himself that he enjoyed the way Scott was begging for such an unnatural and shameful act.
“You could send one of your people with us, to make sure we don’t escape. I’m only asking for an hour.”
Using gestures, the dead man asked what he would get in return and indicated that it had better be worth such an affront to the rules.
“My legs,” Scott said firmly. “Both of them, all yours. I don’t need them to breed, and if I die from you taking them, you can stick me out here so you’ll have a permanent watchdog over the others until I rot away to nothing from the heat.”
Hole in His Neck held up his fingers, saying two guards would go with them, not one. Then he added that this would be the only time, one way or another.
Scott breathed a sigh of relief as the commander of the watch went to fetch David and the guards who would take them to the woods. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work after all.
8
Bullets sparked and pinged off the asphalt as Riley ran for cover. He half fell, half rolled behind the carcass of an abandoned truck. The spray of bullets followed him, thudding into the truck’s frame.