“I’m a cook, not a ship’s officer,” Chris protested.
“Ever conned a boat?” Steve asked. “Something this size?”
“Well, bigger, actually,” Chris said. “But…”
“Sophia, what had you driven before you started conning the Mile?” Steve asked.
“My bike?” Sophia said from the helm. “You might remember I’m still fifteen, Da.”
“Fifteen?” Paula said.
“Faith’s thirteen,” Steve said, gesturing to the girl lurking in the corner. “And she plowed the road out of Washington Square.”
“Excuse me?” Isham said. “Washington Square Park?”
“We are four of the ten survivors from the last concert in New York City,” Faith said. “Which we got out of by blowing away so many zombies you could follow our path by the bodies. So don’t get me started on how hard it’s going to be to clear a bunch of boats. Boats are easy. Hey, Patrick is it? Bet you’ve played all sorts of video games. Want to fight some real zombies?”
“Uh…” Patrick said nervously.
“Faith,” Steve said.
“No, Da,” Faith said angrily. “What Tina said. They wanted to be rescued. I bet you were praying to God every day that somebody could come to rescue you. And now you want to…what? Curl up and cry? While there are people out there that need you? Screw you.”
She turned and stalked out of the saloon, slamming the door behind her.
“Bloody hell,” Chris said.
“Faith is a little passionate,” Steve said in apology. “We don’t expect any of you to go charging aboard zombie infested freighters any time soon. You need to get your strength back. But you need to start thinking about how you can help and if you want to. If you don’t…well, we’ll find something to do with you eventually. For now, just rest up.”
“Da, this is another sport fisher,” Sophia called. “About five minutes.”
“If you’ll pardon me,” Steve said, standing up. “It probably is a derelict but there may be some supplies.”
* * *
As Sophia blasted her horn, a zombie stumbled out onto the aft deck of the yacht. Female, she was in surprisingly good health.
“I guess we’d better rig up,” Faith said, drawing her sidearm. She fired one handed and hit the zombie in the upper chest. The woman had been at the rail, clawing in the direction of the Toy and flipped forward into the water. “That made things easy.”
“Don’t fall in,” Steve said, pointing at the water. A fin cut through the water and the shark rolled over and tore into the still thrashing zombie.
“Guess not,” Faith said, holstering her pistol. “I think I just figured out why you’d want a gun that shoots underwater…”
* * *
The 50' sportfisher, christened “Reel Fast,” had two more zombies, one dead of apparent starvation, four other dead bodies, including two children, all well gnawed, and no survivors. The dead zombie had been in the engine room and before succumbing to starvation had well and truly trashed it. The engines would probably still work but every other system was damaged. Beyond repair from their point of view.
What it did have was stores. The group had stocked up heavily and apparently been hit by the plague shortly after setting to sea. The reason the female zombie was in such good shape was that a large amount of the stores had been freeze-dried rations, ubiquitously called “Mountain House” although most of these were a different brand. Many of the boxes were in the saloon and open. The zombie had figured out how to rip them open, with her teeth from the look, and had had plenty of supplies for the voyage.
“Where’d she get water?” Faith asked after they’d pieced it together.
“Rain?” Steve said. “The self baler was stuck. There’s a puddle.”
“You’d think she’d get sick,” Faith said, pointing to the water. It was mixed liberally with fecal matter.
“Surprising what people can survive,” Steve said. “They’re still homo sapiens after all. And we’re a resilient species.”
CHAPTER 17
“Can I help?” Chris said to Stacey.
“I don’t know,” Stacey said, smiling. “Can you help?”
“I may be somewhat unconfident about your husband’s plan to clear the seas of zombies,” Chris said, grinning, “but I am a past master of galleys the world over.”
“I was just putting some sushi together,” Stacey said. “We caught a big blackfin. I wasn’t sure what people…”
“Please,” Chris said. “It would help me to spend some time in normal conditions. I’m a chef.”
“Oh,” Stacey said, stepping back and raising her hands. “Go right ahead. I’m not even that good a cook.”
“Do you have a primary role?” Chris said, starting to expertly slice the tuna. “I mean, your daughter… Sophie is it?”
“Sophia,” Stacey said. “Or Soph.”
“She’s the helmsman,” Chris said. “The other one is the bruiser…”
“Call it ‘clearance expert,’” Stacey said, grimacing. “I really hate it but it’s what she enjoys and she’s good at it. And I guess you’d call me the ship’s engineer. I’m…mechanically inclined. Mechanical, electrical. I’m just good at it. Geek stuff sort of.”
“I note you’re all armed,” Chris said.
“Is that an issue?” Stacey asked.
“No, I’d say it’s wise,” Chris said. “For myself… I spent ten years under discipline in the RN. Not great discipline, I was a cook, then a chef. But I am familiar with the need for discipline and authority at sea. Especially in small boats. I’m fine with taking orders from your husband, and you, at least for the time being. I even agree with his plan, grandiose as it seems at first glance. But others…” he shrugged. “Keep your weapons.”
“Any particular others?” Stacey asked, quietly.
“Jack Isham owned a small manufacturing company in the States,” Chris said. “Nori?”
“We packed loads,” Stacey said, gesturing to a cupboard. “We figured we’d be eating a lot of sushi. When we ran out of gas for the stove… When we were running out I boiled up a bunch of rice. And it was sushi for the next week until we got this boat.”
“As I was saying,” Chris said, laying out the nori. “Jack is not a bad person. But he insists on being in control. I guess it’s from being his own boss for so long. So he’s not going to just take orders and will, frankly, be a right pain to have around. Tom Christianson was a drug dealer taking a cruise with his stripper girlfriend. They both made it to the boat. She turned. He really didn’t seem to care. Not someone who looks out for others and I suspect not someone to let into your weapons stash.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stacey said, tapping her pistol. She shook her head. “I guess it was sort of a bad idea for there to be only two of us on the boat, huh?”
“They’re tired,” Chris said, quietly. “They’re getting used to being safe. Somewhat safe, anyway. But, yes, there may be problems in the near future. Sushi.” He presented the expertly arranged plate. “I’ll continue on this. You probably should be near the companionway below and the helm.”
“Got it,” Stacey said, taking the plate. “Why? I mean, not why I should be there…”
“I agree with your husband’s plan,” Chris said. “I’d even say I’m trustworthy enough to arm, but I wouldn’t suggest you believe it until I’ve proven it. And having survived everything I’ve survived, I don’t want to be caught in a firefight.”
* * *
“Sushi,” Isham said. “That’s it?” He took two, though, and stuffed them in his mouth.
“Your stomach has to get used to food again,” Stacey said, sitting down between the group and the helm. And by the companionway below. “Sushi’s surprisingly easy to digest.”
“We’ve been eating a lot of raw fish,” Paula said, taking one and biting it delicately. Her face assumed a beatific expression for a moment. “With rice and nori is exquisite.”