But, technically, I wasn’t afraid of water so much as drowning. And really, was self-preservation ever all that irrational?
That said, I’d always wanted to be a good swimmer. Back in my late twenties, in preparation for a snorkeling trip to the Caribbean, I’d even asked a friend to give me lessons in a fancy hotel pool in Chicago. And while I’d indeed ended up with enough confidence to enjoy the island-based vacation with my girlfriend at the time, all it had taken was a bit of choppy water during a trip to the Florida Keys with Clare to undo everything I’d learned.
My thoughtful wife, one of the most avid swimmers I knew, had intended to coach me at some point, but the opportunity had never presented itself.
And now, here I was, hurtling through the air, about to land in one of the widest, longest rivers in the world, and hoping I hadn’t undershot myself. After all the shit I’d survived over the past few days—hell, over the past few minutes—it would’ve sucked for the current to pull me downstream before I had a chance to reach the waiting ferryboat.
Of course, I didn’t have much time to contemplate all the possibilities. The churning surface of the cool, brown water came hard and fast—which, ultimately, saved my ass. As my haphazard dive became an unintentional belly flop, the impact knocked my tired brain silly.
So, when Clare dove into the river to fish me out, she didn’t have as tough a time hauling me back to the ferry as she might have on a normal day. If I’d been more alert, I would’ve surely struggled and possibly drowned us both.
In fact, I was so dazed that I barely recalled the river rescue. Just flashes of images, like those of Clare diving off the boat, the tower crumbling behind me, and several zombies tumbling into the Mighty Mississippi.
When I finally came to, I found myself lying on the uncomfortable lower deck of the ferryboat, soaked all the way to my underwear and encircled by four familiar faces as well as several unfamiliar ones.
Panicked about the zombies that had followed me into the river, I sat upright much too fast. My head, already light from hunger, fatigue, and shock, almost spun off my neck.
“Easy, honey,” Clare said, kneeling beside me and bracing my back.
“The zombies,” I croaked.
She glanced over her shoulder, then back to me. “We’re OK. No zombies made it on board.”
Apparently, as soon as the crew plucked me and Clare from the river, the vessel had headed upstream, traveling a bit too fast for the zombies to catch us. Determined fuckers perhaps, but despite their otherworldly strength and stamina, it seemed that even undead creatures tired in the swift-moving current.
I sighed with relief. I didn’t have the energy to battle any more zombies… or wildlings. At least until I grabbed some much-needed shuteye.
Clare’s eyes softened, and a huge grin lit up her face. “You did good, baby.” Even with soggy hair and sodden clothes, she was still lovely, particularly when she smiled.
“Was it my imagination, or did you jump in the river to save me?”
Her cheeks bloomed. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “You’d already saved the rest of us with your crazy-ass stunt. Thought you deserved a hand.”
“I appreciate that. I’m just happy I didn’t drown you.”
She smirked. “That makes two of us.”
Recalling that I hadn’t dispatched all those zombies on my own, I scanned the people around me. My gaze alighted on George and Casey, who had stepped back a few feet, likely to give me some room to breathe. George cradled the two rifles they’d used to help me thin the herd on the tower, while Casey clutched my AR-15 in one hand and my Glock in the other.
“Oh, good,” I said. “Thought I’d lost those in the water.”
Casey beamed. “Not on our watch.”
I looked from him to his mother. “Thanks for helping me back there.”
“You woulda done the same for us,” George replied. “When the zombies surrounded the tower, most folks on board thought you were toast.” She glanced accusingly at some sheepish crew members and passengers clustered behind her. “But we had faith.”
“Glad someone did,” I grumbled.
“When we heard the shots, we knew you were fighting back,” Casey added. “Figured four guns were better than one.”
“Well, thanks again. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
My gaze drifted to Jess, who stood beside a lanky, six-foot-tall man I could only describe as a homeless pirate. Sporting a long, scraggly, graying black mane, some of it braided, and a footlong, salt-and-pepper beard, he wore a Hawaiian shirt, shredded jeans, open-toed sandals, and a wide-brimmed, safari-style hat.
But when he grinned, his blue eyes twinkled with shrewdness, and his straight, white teeth put my own choppers to shame. The instant I saw him, I knew I was gonna like the guy.
“Sal Horton,” the man said, leaning down to extend his hand. “Thank you for bringing my daughter here.”
Jess beamed beside him. “Yes, thanks, Mr. Joe.” She bit her lip. “Sorry I doubted you.”
Her father chuckled. “I admit, when she told me your plan… I underestimated you, too.”
I almost apologized for harboring my own concerns about the two of them, but why dwell on the negative? We’d all proven ourselves worthy of some trust.
So, I returned the girl’s grin and shook her father’s hand. “Desperate times and all… Anyway, no problem, Captain. Happy to help.”
“Call me Sal. Only Jess says ‘Captain.’” He shrugged. “Makes her think my job is more important than it is.”
“Right now, it seems pretty damn important. Thanks for taking us aboard.”
“Sure thing.”
Stronger than he looked, Sal gripped my hand and tugged me to my feet. Once I stood upright, I finally had a chance to scan the crowded vessel. Besides several vehicles, including my own, it seemed as
