long.”
“And even if there were,” the professor added, “the zombies would find you there, too. The mountains are just as dangerous as the cities—perhaps even more. We have no idea how many members of the animal kingdom are now infected.”
Murphy rubbed his grizzled cheeks and sighed. He placed his shaking hands on the railing and sighed. I could tell that he was jonesing bad.
“I don’t think they would find us,” he said. “What are zombies? They’re just mobile corpses and nothing more. Cut off an arm or a leg, and they keep coming. They’re dead, but they can move and function and take a hell of a lot of damage. My theory is this—if I get to someplace where the temperature is below freezing, the zombies can’t move. Think about it for a second. They’re dead, so they have no body heat. There’s nothing to keep their bodies from freezing. If they tried to attack us there, they’d literally freeze in their tracks before they could ever reach us. That’s a lot more convenient than having to shoot them all in the head or setting them on fire.”
The professor looked thoughtful. “Well, biology and science aren’t my specialty, but I agree that makes sense. In theory, at least. If their blood and tissue freezes, then they would indeed become immobile. But you must consider something. Could we sail to such a location?”
“Basil had an idea,” Murphy said. “There are ski resorts in Pennsylvania and Virginia. We could pull into port and make for one of them.”
I shook my head. “That’s no good. First of all, we’d never make it there.”
“Why not?”
“A group this size? Come on, Murphy! Those things would slaughter us before we made it five miles. We’d have to find reliable transport, gas, more weapons, all that shit. But let’s say we did make it to a ski resort. What you gonna do then? Get the artificial snow machine running? Maybe. But that ain’t gonna chill the air—it’s only making snow. Snow won’t freeze them. You need to control the temperature for that. Sure, it would make a good winter hideout, but as soon as spring came, we’d be on the run again.”
Murphy muttered under his breath.
“What?” I asked.
“I said, I guess we didn’t think of that.”
“Your idea does have merit,” the professor said. “But we’d have to travel to a region where the temperatures remain below freezing all year round—Antarctica, for example. Such an environment would be hostile to the living as well.”
Murphy grunted. “Look around next time we go ashore, Prof. The whole world’s pretty fucking hostile.”
“Yes, it is. That’s why I support the chief’s decision. If the undead are aboard the oil rig, it would be far easier to exterminate their limited numbers than to do battle with an entire mainland population.”
Murphy still didn’t seem convinced. “We’re on a ship. Don’t see why we can’t go to the North Pole or Antarctica, like you said.”
“We could,” the professor agreed. “But a trek of that magnitude would require a lot more fuel than we currently have. Fuel we can possibly find at our current destination.”
I stifled a yawn. I’ll give the professor one thing—interesting as the old man was, he’d definitely cured my insomnia.
“Guys,” I said, “I’m gonna hit the hay. It’s been a long day and I’m wiped out. Murphy, make me one promise, okay?”
“What’s that, Lamar?”
“That we stick together. All of us. If you guys don’t like the chief’s plan, let’s talk about it as a group. The last thing we need right now is a fucking mutiny.”
He half smiled, half nodded. “No worries, man. Get some sleep.”
“Good night, Lamar,” the professor said. “Give my regards to the warrior.”
“I’ll do that. Night.”
The ship rolled beneath my feet as we crested a swell. Hanging on to the handrail, I made my way through the darkness, back down the ladder, and then through the hatch and down the passageway. I was surprised to find Mitch standing outside our compartment.
“Where have you been?” he whispered. “I came back and the kids were in there by themselves.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Couldn’t sleep. Went topside to get some air. Are they okay?”
“Yeah, they’re fine. I was just a little worried, is all. You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, man, I’m fine. How about you?”
“Sure. I was playing cards with Cliff, Tony, Chuck, and Tran.”
“Tran can play cards?”
“Well of course he can play, Lamar. Just because he doesn’t speak English doesn’t mean he’s an idiot.”
“Point taken. So how was the game?”
“I left early. Tony’s in a pissy mood—he’s having really bad nicotine cravings. I did find out that we may have trouble with Basil and Murphy, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Apparently, they aren’t too happy with our current course. Want to second-guess the chief. Even talked about forcing him to change course, head back to land.”
“The professor and I ran into Murphy. He mentioned it, too, but I didn’t think he was serious. Figured he was just bullshitting, you know?”
Mitch pulled a small square of gum from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. “Nicotine gum,” he said with a wink. “But don’t tell Tony. I don’t have much left and I need it to last. Anyway, I got the impression that it was more Basil than Murphy. Basil’s the ringleader. The question is, how many people has he swung over to his side and how serious are they?”
We walked down the passageway and back out into the night, so that we wouldn’t wake the kids up, and so no one else would hear us while we talked.
“Think we should tell someone?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Well, Chuck already knows. He’s going to let the chief and Runkle know about it, too. I guess we’ll leave it up to them. It’s in their hands. I don’t think much of Runkle, but I’ll side with him on this. If we have to put them in the brig, then so be it. Last thing we need right now is a mutiny.”
“Well, I got your back. Just let me know.” He grinned. “Thanks, man. That means a lot.” “Not that I’ll do much good, I guess.” Mitch frowned. “What are you talking about? Ain’t nobody else on this ship I’d rather have at my side.” “You know what I’m saying, man. If the shit hits the fan, what good am I? I’ve got nothing to offer. You and Tony are the experts when it comes to guns. Meanwhile, I couldn’t hit the broadside of a fucking barn. Runkle is a cop. We know he can handle himself. The chief knows the boat and Chuck’s his new apprentice, so that makes him valuable. Hell, even Murphy’s good for something. He keeps us moving down there in the boiler room. Everybody’s got their place. So far, all I’ve done is throw up at the rescue station when we saw those crosses and choke when it came to killing that preacher. The professor says I’m the hero, but I think he must be senile.” “The hero?”
I explained to Mitch all about the archetypes and monomyths and the professor’s theories on the two of us. When I was finished, Mitch shook his head, laughing softly.
“Well, if that don’t beat all. I’m the warrior, huh? I’ll take that, I guess. Better than being the trickster. But he’s right, Lamar. In those kid’s eyes, you’re a hero. They look up to you. After all the bad shit that’s happened to them, you’re the best person they could have come across.” “But I don’t know shit about kids. I’m impatient with them. I curse too much. I’m not a parental figure.”
“Too bad, buddy, because you’ve got the job whether you want it or not. I think you’ll be okay. Take it from me. There’s no instruction manual that comes with kids. You do your best and try not to fuck up and realize that you probably will anyway. You’re their hero. Try to live up to that.”
His voice cracked, and I realized that he was crying. Tears dripped down into his beard. “Mitch?” I was shocked. “What’s wrong, man?” “I… Do you remember our first morning onboard? When we were eating breakfast in the galley? You asked me why I’d gone from Towson down into the city, and I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, thinking back. “I remember.” “Well, the truth is, I was looking for my son, Mickey. We always called him Mick. Mitch and Mick—our little family joke. My wife and I got divorced when he was fourteen. I
