Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (6 page)

"Looking good, ladies," Jake proclaimed when
he and Vinny walked into the galley. It struck me funny to see a
man the size of Jake's brother toting around a tiny dog.

"Go put a clean shirt on, Jake. It's
cold."

"Yes, mom." He relented and trudged down the
hall to comply.

Meg grunted in frustration and plopped into
one of the bar stools. We all looked at her expectantly.

"Is this really what our life is now?
Rationing food and water, living day to day, and not able to step
on dry land without fear?"

"Yeah," Vinny sighed. "Kind of sucks balls,
doesn't it?"

Jake returned, pulling a clean shirt over his
head. "Major donkey balls."

"Oh, my God, Jake." I stifled a laugh. "That
has got to be the ugliest shirt I have ever seen." The offending
article was some kind of Hawaiian mash-up of patterns. Each piece
had been cut from a different flowered fabric, then sewn together.
Five patterns in all, and not one matching color, but all of them
so bright it was possible it would glow in the dark.

"Dude, Bill Cosby called. He wants his shirt
back," taunted his brother

"No way! This thing rocks." He placed his
hands on his hips and took a walk on an imaginary catwalk, swaying
his hips and finishing it off with a twirl.

Meg shook her head and brought her hand up to
cover her face. "I knew there was a reason I chose to get a degree
in psych. My brothers are BSC."

"BSC?" they asked in unison.

"Bat-shit crazy."

Vinny protested the diagnosis, "No way. I'm
the only normal one in the family."

"Bro, you call your knife The Penetrator,
there's definitely something wrong with you."

* * *

The afternoon warmed up and we sat on the
upper deck talking about life before the outbreak. Whenever the
topic began to shift toward Sanibel and the catastrophic loss we
suffered, we changed the subject.

Meg, like the rest of us, had made the
conscious decision to focus on what lie ahead, and not look back.
The events were still too raw for any of us to really cope, and in
this new world, here today, gone tomorrow was dangerously
literal.

Jake was going over the list of our food
supplies, trying to figure out what our next move should be.

"So, if we ration the water to three bottles
a day per person, we've got enough for a month. However, our food
situation isn't as solid. If we cut down our intake, we can make it
maybe two weeks, and that's on a four-hundred calorie diet. We'll
be essentially starving ourselves."

"Why don't we make some scavenging trips to
all the nearby houses?" asked Vinny.

"We have to assume there will be at least one
zombie in each house. Even if there isn't, I'd rather err on the
side of caution. Each time we leave this boat, we have a good
chance of one or all of us not making it back. I'd like to minimize
the risk as much as possible."

I thought about our options. The tank was
still full, since we'd refilled on Sanibel, and only traveled a
short distance. "Who says we have to stay here?" I said.

Jake looked at me with interest. "I'm
intrigued. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing specific, really. Only that we've
got the freedom to move around a bit. We lost the Jet-Ski and
rowboat, but who says we can't look for another? Not to mention, I
wouldn't mind having a look around a bit."

"Yeah," chimed in Meg. "Maybe we'll find
someplace that doesn't reek so badly, or a gated community that's
still intact. The world is our oyster, well, at least until we run
out of gas, that is."

Moments ago, Meg and I were discussing how we
didn't want to leave the boat unless we had to. Now we were
thinking differently. We were women, after all, and we reserved the
right to change our minds as often as we like.

Daphne stood on the seat next to me and let
loose with a growl. The fur on her back was raised and she looked
toward the dock. We were on our feet in an instant and turned to
see what was going on.

"Shit!" swore Jake, running for the helm.
"Get the poles!"

A muffled bump and scrape sounded as the boat
butted up to the dock. My eyes widened with fear and disbelief when
I leaned over to see three undead close enough to step onto the
lower deck. Vinny, Meg, and I grabbed our poles and flew down the
stairs to push them back while Jake got the boat fired up and out
of the danger zone.

"What the fuck happened?" shouted Vinny as we
reached the bottom.

There was no time to answer, because two of
the zombies had found their way onto the deck and the third was
right behind them. We came out of the stairwell in between them.
Meg and I struggled with the long poles to push the closest one to
the edge and at the same time block the opening with its body so
the other couldn't board.

That left Vinny cut off behind us, dealing
with the one that had traveled farther on deck. The end of Meg's
pole was a narrow point, not sharp enough to do any damage to
living tissue, but when it pressed into the dead flesh of the
zombie it slid through like butter. It made a popping sound, like a
hardcover book slamming shut, as the point protruded from the
zombie's back. While the zombie continued forward, the pole slid
through its torso and rustled like two pieces of paper rubbing
together.

I renewed my efforts to drive it backwards
with the net at the end of my pole, regaining a few precious steps
at a time, until it finally reached the edge of the decking and
lost its footing. With the pressure of the final zombie at its
back, it remained upright, and the resistance on the pole grew
forceful enough to bend the net downward.

The zombie had reclaimed only a foot when the
engine caught and Jake put the boat in reverse. When the momentum
hung up on the starboard anchor, the boat jerked, working in our
favor. We plunged forward, off balance, and the two zombies
disappeared into the water below. I heard the anchor winches work
as they rose up from the sea bed, and the boat jolted back into
motion.

"Get it off me!" screamed Vinny. It was the
shriek of a terrified man.

The movement caused him to fall backwards to
the deck, and the third zombie landed on his legs. Meg froze in
place, screaming wordlessly, and I ran to him. Nearly there, I
heard Vinny scream again, but this wasn't a scream of terror; it
was one of pain.

"No!" I bellowed.

Grabbing the zombie by its ankles I dragged
it off him and as close to the opening as I dared. Meg was
paralyzed, crying hysterically at the site of her brother lying on
his back and screaming profanities. The zombie clutched at the
smooth fiberglass for purchase. Finding none, it turned on me, and
I kicked its midsection off the boat. Too big for the opening, the
zombie folded in half, bending at an unnatural angle, and fell from
view.

The rev of the engine lessened and the boat
slowed to an idle a few hundred feet away from the dock. I was
still bent over, hands on my knees, trying to force air into my
burning lungs when Jake bounded from the stairs leading to the
upper deck. His sudden appearance brought me back to the moment and
I remembered Vinny.

I passed Meg, wide eyed and begging God to
not take her brother, and reached my brother-in-law.

"Oh Jesus, oh Jesus," he was babbling,
struggling with trembling hands to get his pants off and kicking
off his boots at the same time.

Jake grabbed him beneath the armpits and,
with superhuman strength, lifted the huge man to his feet. Vinny
tore at the button on his waistband and it popped off, hard enough
to whiz by me and clank against the far railing.

"Where did it get you?" yelled a frantic
Jake, inspecting his bare legs in a frenzy. "Fuck, I can't find it.
Where are you bit?"

"My shin, the left one." He pointed at his
leg, but couldn't bring himself to look down.

Jake breathed out something I couldn't
understand and sat back against the wall, laughing in relief.

"Thank fucking Christ, Vin, it didn't break
the skin." Jake marveled, his laugh turning to cries as the
adrenaline rushed out of him. A collective sigh escaped us all, the
moment too heavy to form words.

Meg, who had been the first to lose control
of her emotions, was also the first one to bounce back.

"So, Vin, Tuesday, huh?" Her voice had a
playful tone.

I had no idea what she was talking about and
was about chock it up to temporary insanity, but Vinny turned away
from me to face her with a questioning look, and I burst with
laughter when I figured it out. Jake caught it too, and was
bellowing with me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you three? Have
you lost your fucking minds?"

"Nice…" Jake started, needing to catch his
breath before continuing. "Nice underwear, bro."

Vinny was wearing day-of-the-week underwear.
In big letters around his ass, read Tuesday.

"You do know today is Saturday, right?"
stated Meg.

"Yeah, well, I put 'em on Tuesday." His
statement made us laugh even harder and step away from the five-day
old underwear-clad Vinny.

* * *

I was exhausted, physically and emotionally
drained from the day, and no matter how hard I struggled, my eyes
refused to stay open. I crashed as soon as I plopped my ass on the
sofa inside the galley, but not nearly as fast as Vinny, who I
could swear was already out before he hit the recliner.

I jerked awake in the dark. The boat was
swaying on the current and Vinny snored loudly a few feet away from
where I lay. My brain was still tired, I had napped too long, and
it took longer than usual to get my bearings. Daphne matched
Vinny's snores in rhythm and didn't stir until I got up. I swear I
heard her grumble in protest when she jumped down to follow me. The
bed was empty when I went to find Jake. I passed by Meg's room on
the way and saw a bulge under the blankets.

The dog had already figured out that he was
on the upper deck, and I followed as she trotted up the stairs.

"Wow, I began to wonder if you'd slipped into
a coma," he joked, and put his arms around me when I got close.

"I feel like shit. How long have I been
out?"

"Nearly twelve hours. You weren't alone,
though. The others crashed around the same time."

"Man, I wished we had some coffee," I sighed,
longing for the caffeinated heaven. "What time is it?"

"Just after five-thirty. The sun's starting
to peek up over there." He pointed behind me.

I looked around. It was still dark out, but
the moon was full, and I could see clearly in its light. I didn't
see the dock; in fact, the only land looked to be at least a mile
off.

"Where are we?"

"South, away from land. That was way too
close for comfort today."

"Look, I don't want to come off like a major
bitch, but I have to ask. What the hell happened back there,
Jake?"

His posture went stiff and the set of his jaw
rose up just enough to be noticeable. "You aren't putting that shit
on me, Emma. I wasn't the only one that failed to notice we were
drifting right into them. Back off," he warned.

"Whoa, I wasn't blaming you." I raised my
hands to ward off his increasingly bad mood. "I don't know. Maybe I
was…fuck. I know, rationally, it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry for being defensive. I know it
wasn't my fault, too, but it doesn't make me feel any less
guilty."

"Have you slept?"

"Nope, I'm too wired."

"Do you want to try and lie down for a bit? I
can keep watch up here and make sure nothing happens."

"It won't do any good; I'm too tense."

I put my hand on his leg and smiled coyly at
him. "Tense, you say? I might be able to help with that a bit." My
hand slid up his thigh a few inches and he leaned back, clasping
his hands behind his head.

"Who am I to deny you the pleasure of helping
me relax? Maybe I'll even return the favor." He waggled his
eyebrows at me and closed his eyes as I unzipped his jeans.

* * *

For someone who was too wired to fall asleep,
he sure zonked out. I didn't bother to wake him; he was wrecked and
needed to get some shuteye. I sat with my head resting on his chest
as the sun crested the horizon.

Daphne pawed at my hand and started to whine.
I looked down at her tiny form and scratched her head. "What?" I
asked. She whined again and stood up on the vinyl seating. "What do
you want?"

A yap escaped her, and her tail began to wag,
at first tentatively, but when I sat up, her entire backside got
into it. I knew what she wanted, she wanted to poop. Unfortunately
for me, she was codependent and even though her potty area was a
few yards away, she wouldn't use it unless I stood there with
her.

"Fine," I surrendered, "let's do this."

I stood over her, urging her onward and
providing the moral support she needed to take a peaceful dump. It
always felt weird though, watching her poop, so I averted my eyes
and looked everywhere but down. In the daytime, the shore was much
easier to see. From this distance, it looked like any other day
before the apocalypse. The few milling figures on the beach could
have been early risers out for a walk, though no amount of
imagination would lead me to believe they were anything but the
dead.

The sight of an empty, dead wasteland bummed
me out, and I turned away from the scene, choosing instead to look
out at the ocean. A boat floated about a half-mile out. It was the
only other craft we'd seen since Mel and Dave. This far off, is was
difficult to tell its size—twenty, maybe thirty, feet long, the
sailboat look deserted with its empty deck and downed sail.

"Jake," I blurted excitedly, "Jake, wake
up!"

"Just a little longer," he begged.