Adam raised his hand like a student. “Um, have you forgotten the bird is currently in the middle of a horde of those things? How do you propose we get to it and get it in the air without attracting their attention?” The group shared his sentiment.
“Well, we talked about that. It will require all of us to make it happen. Lowell and I will get to the bird. The rest of you will need to create a distraction. They don’t want the helicopter; they want us. So we give them what they want.”
The group erupted in argument.
“Hold your horses; I wasn’t suggesting we sacrifice anyone for the cause. Though, if I were, I would have voted on the dog. She pissed on the bathroom floor again.” His quip lightened the mood a bit and we laughed. I knew he was joking. I instinctively turned to look at Daphne, who was currently squatting in the corner of the cabin. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t totally joking. Jake followed my gaze and rolled his eyes at the dog. I really needed to invest some time in potty training her a little better.
“We’ve got the Jet Ski, and cigarette boat, along with the fishing boat we found on the supply run. Nancy should stay back with Gabby. Then the rest of you can go in two waves. Pull up close to the group and get their attention. We know sound and the sight of a warm meal attracts them. So, we lead them away from the area and down the river. Once the first wave is gone, the second group can make an attempt to lead the rest away. Meanwhile, Lowell and I will take the fishing boat in the other direction and double back on foot and come up behind the group.”
Jake considered his plan for a minute. “That’s a lot of speculation. We don’t know if it’s clear beyond the area. What if you run into another group?”
“Then we either make a stand, or hightail it back to the water. Anyone else have a better idea?”
I suggested we just pull up anchor and go as a group but was shot down. The group didn’t want to risk wasting fuel or time in the event Mel’s story had been a lie.
Jake and Meg teamed up for round one. Jake drove the Jet Ski over to the sea wall, making sure not to get close enough to become lunch. Meg hooted and hollered, shouting obscenities at the rotted pieces of meat. Like we saw as Finn rowed away, those closest to the edge were pushed off by their brethren trying to get a front row seat at the meal trough. While they were distracted, Seth and Lowell set off in the fishing boat. When we could no longer see the boat, Jake started to slowly steer the watercraft away from the area.
“I can’t believe this is actually working,” marveled Adam. He was right. At least half the crowd peeled off and followed after them. It was slow going, but that just meant Seth would have enough time to find a zombie-free zone and start coming around the back.
The sound of the Jet Ski was barely audible at this distance and it looked like they had gotten all the attention they were going to. Round two: Adam, Will, Dale, and I, loaded up into the boat and started banging pans and singing random songs, badly I might add. Dale surprised us all by belting out a little ditty. I think it was “Oops, I Did it Again.”
“Hey, Dale, tell me you are not singing Britney Spears.” I was a little ashamed myself for being able to identify the song, seeing as I was more of a heavy metal fan. I could recall numerous drunken trysts in the mosh pit in my day.
Blushing bright red, he looked like a little kid. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Hell, keep going. If we can’t get them all to follow us, maybe the rest will commit zombiecide from the torture. That’s some psychological torture.” We kept up our taunting and drifted lazily toward the Jet Ski. We had succeeded in garnering attention from all but a small handful. I hoped they could get to the helicopter while the remaining zombies were facing our direction. This meant staying in their line of sight so they wouldn’t begin to wander off.
I started to think Dale wasn’t quite right in the head. He stopped singing Britney and went into the Cadence rendition of Sam Cooke’s “Chain Gang.” Unzipping his pants, he whipped out his pecker and actually attempted to urinate on the crowd. Don’t ask me how the hell he thought his stream would reach them. While his stream was nowhere near forceful enough to hit the zombies, the wind caught it. I was the lucky one, for I was standing to his left and the wind blew to the right. Will on the other hand, was not so lucky. The wind misted him in urine and he jumped to the other side of the boat like he was avoiding a land mine.
“Jesus Christ, Dale. You pissed on me!”
Dale replied with a maniacal laugh and shouted. “Cocked and locked, motherfuckers!”
I leaned into Adam and whispered conspiratorially, “I think we need to keep an eye on this one.”
He responded with raised eyebrows and a shake of his head.
The sound of the rotors spinning brought my attention back to the land in front of us. We had to yell even louder to be heard over the noise. Small clusters began to break off from the pack to seek out the new, and obtainable, prey.
It was all pretty much uneventful from there. There was a single gunshot and then we saw the helicopter rise into the air. They must have found a lurker in the cockpit because as it lifted higher, a limp body fell from the open door and splashed down into the water. Lowell gave us a salute before he closed the door and they flew off in the direction of Sanibel.
Our group cheered in unison and high fives were given all around. This was it, a new beginning. We would have our happy ending after all. Adam piloted us toward the houseboat. As we rode back, I noticed shapes under the water. Leaning over to get a better view, I realized it was zombies. Those that had fallen in were standing at the bottom, faces looking up at us in hunger and arms reaching toward the sky. I shuddered at the creepy scene and moved to the center of the boat. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Back on the houseboat, the air was alive with animated conversations. We each speculated on what Seth would find; all talk centered on the island still being safe and inhabited by the living.
“Hey, guys?” Meg addressed the group. “How are they going to get back to the boat?”
We all looked at her in confusion. It took a minute, but our large planning snafu caused me to do a mental head slap. Followed by an actual one. We had planned how to get the helicopter off the ground and to Sanibel, but not how to get it back to the ground and get the boys back to the boat when they returned. It wasn’t as if the zombies would just wander away and leave them a swath of land to set down safely. We all groaned in unison.
“Well,” said Jake. “I guess we’ll have to hope Seth and Lowell have more brains than all of us combined.”
Chapter 27
Living the High Life
Less than three hours later we heard the sound of an approaching engine. Our small group gathered at the deck’s railing and waved, cheering as Seth’s black hair came into focus flying wildly in the wind. The green fishing boat carrying him held two other men dressed in fatigues. Seth lifted his left arm and returned our waves. The smile on his face was so broad we could see it even at this distance. Slowing on approach, he let the boat idle in closer to us.
Our three saviors joined us on deck and hugs were shared all around. Seth delivered the happy news that Mel’s story held truth. Sanibel was a safe zone and they were happy to embrace our new group. Survivors had been trickling in for weeks and the island now housed more than six hundred refugees. Seth was welcomed with open arms by his comrades in green, many men he knew from a lifetime of servitude in the armed forces.