Then they were away from the dock. The line of the deadstretched down the wooden planks and the riverside for a couple hundred feet.Lou collapsed onto the hard fiberglass bench on the rear of the boat and letthe river wind glide across his bald head. He closed his eyes and soaked it allup. He had never been on a boat before.
It was quiet on the boat, except for the gurgling of theengine, which sounded like nothing compared to the ear-shattering noise ofgunfire in the city. Everyone was silent, as if speaking would wake them upfrom the dream of escaping. Lou opened his eyes. The children clung to theirmother, tears leaking from their eyes. Zeke sat across from him in the back ofthe boat, loading bullets into his empty magazines. Lou decided it would beprudent to do the same, so he exhaled slowly, pushed the peace aside, pulledthe clip out of his handgun, and reached in his pocket for ammunition.
"Thanks for getting us out of there," Lou said.
The bearded man said, "No. Thank you. If you hadn'tfired that gun, they would have overrun us."
The boat bounced over the water, and Lou looked at thecity passing by. He had never seen it from this angle before. The river bankswere lined with shambling forms. "Where are we headed?" he asked.
"Away from here," the bearded man said."My name is Brian. This is my wife Sarah, and my daughters Ruby and Jane.Pleased to meet you."
"I'm Lou, and this quiet guy over here isZeke."
The wife nodded at him. Her dress was covered in blood,and a thought struck Lou. The blood, the bites, they had to be sure. "Wasanyone bitten?"
The wife looked at Lou with fear in her eyes. Lou got thefeeling that she was hiding something, but he didn't know about how to go aboutgetting her to admit it. The world was dying, and here he was worrying aboutupsetting anyone; meanwhile, the woman across from him could be turning intoone of those things in front of his very eyes, ready to eat her own children ata moment's notice.
They sped underneath a bridge, and there were a fewsplashes in their wake as the dead fell into the water.
"You think they'll drown?" Lou asked Zeke.
"I don't see how. They're not breathing."
Sarah spoke up then, "So you think they're actuallydead?"
Zeke turned to the lady and flashed a toothy grin."Lady, I know they're dead. As soon as you guys get that into your head,you can get about the business of dealing with it. No, they're not sick. No,they're not alive. No, they won't respond to reason. All they respond to is abullet to the head. You reshape your reality with those parameters, and you'llbe just fine."
It was a harsh wake-up call, but it was a necessary oneas Lou saw it. The children clung tighter to their mother, their fatherglancing back at them from the corner of his eye. They cruised under anotherbridge, and more splashes followed them. The boat was not fast, but it movedfast enough. The dead were not masters of timing, otherwise they would havebeen covered in a deluge of the dead every time they passed underneath abridge. The boat forged north, splitting the Willamette's murky waters, the sunin the sky, and the banks of the city lined with the dead. Helicopters flewabove, thundering through the valley. He saw one in the distance, lighting up astretch of freeway that hung suspended in the air. Spent shells glittered inthe sun like fairy dust, and Lou imagined that he could hear them hitting theroad beneath.
"You think your boys can stop this?" he askedZeke.
"They're not my boys. Not anymore."
"Hey, guys. We've got a problem," Brian said.In front of them, boats sped toward them. Not your average coast guard boat orport authority rig. These were military class ships. Lou could see the guns onthe decks. They were locked into a course that would directly impede their ownprogress. "Should I turn around?" Brian asked.
Zeke laughed slightly. The noise sounded like a catlearning how to speak English. "You'd never escape those. They can goabout thirty five knots an hour. How fast can this thing go? Seven?"
"Eight if I push it," Brian said with a faintring of hope.
"Yeah, well, push it or not, we won't be escapingthese guys. Let's just see what they want."
Brian kept the boat on the same course. When they wereabout a hundred yards out, one of the ships activated their bullhorn,"Turn off the engine and prepare to be boarded." Brian did as he wastold. The boat slowed immediately, bobbing on the river. Lou slid his gun intothe waistband of his jeans, but there was nowhere for Zeke to put his gun, sohe left it on the ground.
The boats cruised up to them, one on either side. Thenavy ships towered over the boat that they were in, their decks easily abovethe highest point of their own vehicle. Lou looked up to see guns trained onthem, serious men with serious faces doing serious work.
"Are any of you bitten?" a soldier asked them.They shook their heads.
"No one is bitten," Brian yelled up to thesoldier.
"Stand back," the soldier yelled as a ladderwas lowered from the side of their boat onto their deck. There wasn't much roomto maneuver, as the boat was packed tight with the six people that were alreadyon it. A soldier, black hair peeking out from underneath his cap, climbed downthe ladder, landing on the deck of the boat with a hefty thump. His boots weredark and heavy, as was the gun in his hand. He searched them wordlessly. He spottedthe submachine gun on the deck of the boat, and he bent down, picked it up, andtossed it up to a soldier waiting on the deck.
When he was done patting down Zeke, he yelled,"Clean!" loud enough for the soldiers on the boats to hear him. Louwas next. The anti-authority part of him wanted to punch the man in the facefor putting his hands on him, but he understood it. He pushed the feeling downinside,
