Season of Rot

the boat.

“I think he means you too!” the young man said, grabbing O’Neil as he jumped into the boat; the stranger laughed as they crashed to the deck together.

Roy kicked the motor into high gear and left waves in their wake. The docks and the nightmare faded behind them as a few desperate shots thudded into the sides of the boat and the dead howled in vain.

18

“Who are you people?” Scott asked. “And what was all that back there about?”

The redneck-looking black man answered, “I’m Roy and this is Mr. O’Neil. We’re from the Queen.”

The man identified as O’Neil just kept staring at Hannah as she asked, “What’s the Queen?”

“That.” Roy pointed out over the water.

“Holy shit,” Scott muttered. The Queen was a ship, and a damn big one from the looks of her. She was as long as a battleship, but certainly not military; or at least she hadn’t started out that way. Her overall hull, tarnished white, was spotted by the odd piece or plate of armor welded on. Jury-rigged gun emplacements ran the length of her decks from port to stern. She’d definitely seen better days, but even with the tiny amount Scott knew about ships, he could tell she had a lot of power left in her.

Roy piloted the motorboat right up to her side. Heavily armed men and women threw down cables from the deck to haul up the supply crates. “Too bad we can’t keep this baby,” Roy said mournfully. “She’s a fine little boat in her own right.”

“We’re keeping her fuel,” O’Neil said as he finally snapped out of the haze he’d been in. “Make sure you drain her tanks before you go up.” He caught one of the ropes raining down around them and handed it to Hannah. “Welcome aboard, ma’am,” he said with a smile that lit up his face.

She and Scott scurried up the rope into the crowd of people waiting on the Queen’s main deck. Both were overwhelmed by their welcome. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many people alive.

O’Neil pulled himself up behind them and was barking orders at the crowd before his feet even hit the deck.

“Let’s get loaded up quickly, people,” he yelled over the chaos. “We need to get out of here before the dead get it together and come sailing after us.”

19

A yeoman named Pete led Scott and Hannah to their quarters, two Spartan bunkrooms side by side on the same hall. “I know it’s not much,” Pete apologized, “but here you’re going to be safe.”

Scott was still trying to absorb it all. “You mean you guys have really been sailing around out here since it all started?”

Pete nodded. “The Queen was at sea when the dead woke up. We haven’t put to port yet except to raid places for food or supplies. The captain figures we’re safer on the waves.”

“Have you heard from anyone else, other survivors like yourselves?” Hannah asked.

“I hate to say it, ma’am, but… well, no. Benson, our communications expert, stays at it around the clock though. We’ve never come across more than a few at a time. We’re always glad to see new faces, and I’m sure you’ll fit right in among the crew. Either of you have experience sailing or know anything about ships?”

Hannah and Scott shook their heads.

“No worries,” Pete said, waving his hand. “I know we’ll come up with something for you to do. We try to pull our weight on this ship.” He looked them over again and stopped. “I’m sorry, you probably want to get some rest. I’ll leave you to it. Just one quick thing: the captain will want to meet you tonight. He likes to welcome everyone aboard and see if you know anything about what’s left out there. You’ll be having dinner with him in about five hours. I’ll be back to get you and show you around.”

Pete shook Scott’s hand again and bowed to Hannah, then he was gone. Hannah and Scott looked at each other, as if asking whether they really wanted to be alone. Silence lingered in the air until Scott finally made a move. “See you at dinner then.” He stepped into the room he’d been assigned and shut the door behind him.

He plopped onto his bunk and fell instantly into a deep sleep. His dreams were dark, but his exhausted body didn’t care.

20

Steven shook his head in disgust. “We lost fourteen hands and gained two. We can’t keep up this rate of attrition. Perhaps you’re correct, Mr. O’Neil. Maybe we should think of finding an island and starting over.”

O’Neil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Captain Steven was agreeing with him after refusing for months to even consider the possibility.

“There is an island not far from here, sir, the one I’ve told you about. I think it was called Cobble or something like that. It was just a tourist trap before the plague. You could only reach it by boat or helicopter. I doubt we’d find much resistance there, and it’s in a temperate zone so we could grow a wide assortment of food stock between the winters.” O’Neil grew excited as he let out all the details he’d been plotting. “I bet there’s even a fuel depot there, at least for the smaller boats. We could leave the Queen just offshore, and she’d be well within reach if we needed her again.”

Steven smiled at O’Neil’s passion. “Sounds like you’ve really thought this out. All right, Mr. O’Neil, we’ll try it your way. As soon as we can be sure those creatures from the docks aren’t pursuing us, go ahead and plot a course for this island. And have those two new folks brought up here. I’m eager to hear news of the mainland.”

“I think you’ll find the new woman rather captivating, sir,” O’Neil commented.

Steven pulled a cigar from his desk and lit it up with an old fashioned wooden match. “Do I detect a bit of personal attachment in your voice, Henry?”

The younger man blinked. The captain rarely called him by his first name. Most people didn’t. It put him on edge, though he knew the captain was only teasing, trying to provoke a response. “No, sir. I just… I thought you’d like to be prepared is all.”

“Oh,” Steven snickered, “I see.”

#

Hannah lay on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. She’d tried to get some sleep, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Riley and Brandon. Brandon would have been so happy on this ship. The Queen would’ve been like a paradise to him, the adventure of the high sea and children his age to share it with. It would have been like something out of a story book. And Riley… she missed Riley so much. Without him, she felt hollow, incomplete. A piece of her soul had died along with her family, just like the world had died long ago. She’d adjusted to the world’s destruction, but the pain of her own loss stung at her heart.

Someone knocked on the door of her quarters. Forgetting herself, she reached for her .30-.06 and slid a shell into its chamber as the door opened.

“Whoa,” Pete said, raising his hands and taking a step back. “It’s okay.”

Hannah lowered the rifle. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Old habits die hard.”

“Better them than me,” Pete joked uncomfortably. “The captain is waiting for you to join him for dinner.”

Hannah followed Pete out into the hall where Scott was waiting, clean-shaven and dressed in new clothes.