Bill stepped onboard and there weren’t any keys in it. He hung his head and turned to Richard. “I guess we’re going in the U.S.S. Upchuck.”
Richard hopped onto the larger craft. “Not everybody keeps their keys in the ignition.” He reached across to the passenger seat and opened the boat equivalent of a glove box. Presto! One set of keys, complete with a floating key ring.
“Oh, thank God,” Bill said. He looked at Richard. “Do we go back and start huffing all of our stuff down here?”
Richard cocked his head as he thought. “Not all of it. Just the cooler.”
The two men went back up to the truck and grabbed the cooler and the small bag with extra ammunition.
Just in case.
Jason stayed behind to guard the boat.
Just in case.
When they returned, Richard started the motor while Bill cast off the lines. “She’s got a full tank,” Richard said. “It will take a little over half of it to get to the other side. Once we get into the deeper water, we can set course and just let her cruise.”
Bill smiled. “Thank God zombies can’t swim.”
Richard nodded. “No joke,” he agreed as he goosed the accelerator lever forward and steered the boat away from the dock.
Jason sat in the front of the boat and stared out across the lake. He turned back and stared into the sky, then back across the lake. He sat back down and frowned. Something bad was coming. He looked at his grandfather and Bill. They seemed so happy. What was it Bill had said? Something about telling people what they wanted to hear? Jason decided to simply say nothing at all.
Buck ran until his lungs were burning. His legs felt so weak, but he kept going. He knew he had to keep going. He had reached a small creek and slowed down. He saw the water flowing across it and it was quick. It looked so clear and Buck dipped his hands into it. It felt so cold. He cupped his hands and drank greedily from the creek. His throat was so dry from running and the metallic taste from being scared still hung in his mouth like a bad penny. Plus, his throat still stung from screaming, but the cold water felt all that much more wonderful.
After drinking his fill, Buck rolled over onto his back and stared up into the canopy of trees. He could just see bits and pieces of the blue sky beyond as the trees swayed with the high breeze and he smiled. Finally, a little piece of something close to normal.
He lay there for a moment and closed his eyes. He tried to pretend that life was normal. That he was home, Keri was yelling at him for going through her things. His mom was rushing around trying to get things done before her and dad went out for dinner. They liked to have their date nights from time to time.
Buck would sometimes stay up all night and watch movies or get on his dad’s computer and play video games. Dad’s computer had more RAM and a better video graphics card, so the games would load faster and there was no buffering in the middle of play. Dad didn’t like him being on it because he used it for work, but Buck was careful to erase his tracks. It wasn’t like he was surfing for porn. Buck chuckled to himself as he sighed and remembered how things used to be.
Not like now.
Not with Keri all infected and trussed up like a pig in the RV. Mom was…well…Mom wasn’t coming home again. And Dad? Well, Buck prayed that his dad didn’t die from his shot in the shoulder. He looked so bad when they left him back there. Surely the zombies couldn’t figure out how to get into the RV…
Buck groaned and rolled over onto his side. He was so tired. He wished he could sleep, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to keep going. He pushed himself up and onto his knees. He opened his eyes and saw a muddy pair of boots standing in front of him. Buck started to scream, but held it in. Slowly he raised his face and took in the filthy man standing before him.
The man’s clothes were tattered rags from running through the woods, catching on the limbs and brambles. His arms and legs were scratched and ripped open in spots, blood dripping from his hands. When Buck saw his eyes, he wasn’t surprised. They were blood-red. The man simply looked at Buck, his head tilted to one side. He seemed to study Buck for a moment, then stepped to the side and walked past him.
Buck lay there on the ground, on his knees, and listened as the man trudged up the hill, his footsteps crumpling leaves and twigs as he slowly made his way up. Buck felt like throwing up everything he’d eaten since Kindergarten as he realized how close he came to being zombie chow.
He collapsed onto the ground and his entire body shook. “Why didn’t he eat me?” he asked himself softly, his voice breaking.
Buck lay still, his eyes squeezed shut in disbelief when his ears picked up the rustling of more footfalls upon the forest floor. He froze with fear, but his eyes shot open. He didn’t dare move, but his eyes darted from side to side. He saw another zombie trudge by, not twenty feet from where he lay. It
