100 Days of Death (24 page)

I don’t know what is causing all of these feelings. I am thinking about just bailing when we pull into the next safe port. I have been feeling something for a while now but just didn’t want to say it. But here it is—I don’t want the responsibility for anyone else anymore. If that makes me an asshole, so be it. Maybe Albert telling me that if I was infected I wouldn’t be welcome just made me realize they don’t need me.

Now that I have embraced this realization I am becoming more convinced that this may be the best course of action for me.

DAY 51

I didn’t bother to stand guard last night.

I don’t know if Alison or Albert did either. Albert knocked on my cabin door this morning and asked me what we should do. I told him I didn’t care and went back to sleep. I got up an hour later to take Chloe up on deck to pee. Alison and Grace were in the salon and I ignored them.

Albert tried to talk to me while Chloe crapped on her carpet square, but I just nodded absently and wouldn’t look at him. Childish, I know. From the boat I could see numerous plague victims roaming about. I have no interest in going ashore here. The weather is still overcast and the water is choppy.

I grabbed some food for Chloe and myself from the galley and went back to my cramped cabin. At 11 a.m. I heard the engine turn over and we got underway, headed north, I presume. I still have a lot of pent-up resentment in me. I wish I didn’t, but I don’t know how to get rid of it right now. I think I will.

While I was writing in this journal earlier this afternoon, we hit something.

We were roughly three hours north of Santa Cruz when it happened. I heard something big slam into the port side and raced topside to see what happened.

When I got on deck, I saw the debris field of one or more sailing vessels all around us. Albert was dropping the sail and coming to a stop. We had been rammed by the broken mast from a sailboat. I looked around us and wondered how Albert hadn’t seen all the floating parts long before we hit them.

We did a visual examination all around us but could not tell if there was any damage below the water line. We were drifting in rolling swells that weren’t too rough, but the wind was running at about ten miles an hour. Albert asked if I would make a closer inspection. I slipped into a wetsuit, got fins and goggles, tied off a safety line, and went overboard. The water was freezing. I went under the boat and was dashed into it twice by the current.

We were away from most of the wreckage, but I got hit by a stray seat cushion when I resurfaced for air. On the port side, I saw what looked like a nine-inch-long vertical crack in the hull just under the waterline.

I got back on board and, through chattering teeth, told Albert my findings. We all went below and looked for any breaches on the inside but couldn’t locate anything. I took another shower and came back to my cabin.

We arrived into a place called Half Moon Bay this afternoon. Our ship is definitely listing to port and we are taking on water. There is nothing here. Albert says that we would have to find a dry dock to make repairs. That’s not going to happen and there are no boats in the harbor big enough to carry us. The bilge pump is running full time. Albert thinks that water is gathering under the floor.

I went ashore with Chloe. There is a large parking lot at the marina but there were no cars with keys except one. It was a mail truck and the battery was dead. I walked around for an hour. This place is a ghost town.

If I had found a working vehicle I might have left on my own. I feel like a shit for thinking this way but refuse to feel guilty or responsible anymore.

I didn’t speak to anyone when I got back. Albert came up on deck (he waited until Chloe had to pee before ambushing me into a conversation) and said he thinks we can make it to San Francisco (less than thirty miles north) in the morning.

I nodded and went below. Tonight I have been making plans to strike off on my own when we reach San Francisco. I will not abandon my companions before helping them find a suitable ship to continue their journey. And I will only take minimum supplies, as I do not wish to leave them helpless. I do not make this decision lightly. I feel very heavy-hearted about this but have made up my mind.

DAY 52

This morning we saw three ships sailing together headed west.

Albert tried to raise them on the radio but there was no response. I had brief hopes that they might be able to take in Alison, Albert, and Grace. They continued on and disappeared over the horizon. The seas got rougher and the weather was stormy.

We motored into San Francisco Bay around 2 p.m. this afternoon. The north section of the Golden Gate Bridge has collapsed into the ocean. Whole sections of the city have been burned to the ground. We passed several marinas that were in ruins. The first had nothing but debris floating in its small bay. A cruise ship had rammed past the pilings in the second marina and partially sunk in its bay.

We passed several wharfs. Two tankers had collided into each other and taken out a section of a pier. There was destruction everywhere. We finally came up to a marina with a sign at the end of the pier identifying it as Pier 39. We docked on the east side in one of the many empty slips. The weather was cold and overcast. As soon as we tied off, Albert and Alison went below deck and began tearing through the cabins to locate our leak.

I stayed up on deck with binoculars and scanned the pier and shoreline. I saw movement several times around an apartment building nearby, but couldn’t identify anything clearly. I heard gunfire coming from somewhere in the city, but it was too faint to determine exactly where it was coming from. Chloe sat at my side, whining and nervous.

An hour later, Albert came up on deck and told me he had located the leak. He said that there was a repair kit on board and thought we could patch the crack successfully.

I didn’t really share his enthusiasm as I had no intentions of setting sail with them. I was focused on what my next move would be. I had identified several vehicles that I wanted to check out that I might be able to hotwire. We had brought the emergency battery charger with us so I was confident I could get something running.

At one point, I noticed that Albert had stopped talking. When I looked at him he was staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked him.

“Are you ok with that?” he asked. “Ok with what?” I said.

He raised his eyebrows and then repeated his question (which I obviously hadn’t heard the first time), “Are you ok with going overboard to patch the crack in the hull?”

I looked at Albert and then down at the open pelican case at his feet, full of repair materials and underwater epoxy. I was about to tell him that I didn’t know crap about repairing hulls when I realized he had probably just explained it to me while I was daydreaming about my escape plans.

Instead I asked him to repeat everything again. This time, I listened. I put on a wetsuit and after Albert prepped a patch, I went overboard and found the damage. The water was ice cold and I struggled to get the patch in place. The epoxy would bond within five minutes of exposure so I had to hurry, but do it right at the same time. I didn’t want to screw up as their lives might depend on the job I did.

I had to go back under several times to make sure everything was set properly. Once I had done my part, we waited for the bilge pump to drain all the seawater out. Albert patched the inside and pronounced us temporarily repaired. It was after 7:30 p.m. by the time we were done so it looks like I’m going to be spending one last night with my shipmates.

After hearing gunshots today, we decided to take turns standing watch tonight. During my shift, I noticed the faint glow of lights coming from a taller building about a mile away. The moans and wails of the undead are everywhere.

I am apprehensive about what will happen tomorrow and I guess I am feeling guilty about abandoning my companions. But I didn’t ask for them to be in my life to begin with, and even though I feel bad about this, I am also looking forward to being on my own with just Chloe again.

DAY 53

I stood watch all night, letting everyone else sleep.

Around 4 a.m. it began pouring rain. Fog rolled in so thick I couldn’t even see the shoreline. Albert came up on deck at 7:40 a.m. bearing bad news; our patches weren’t going to hold. Water was still leaking in.

At breakfast, Alison and Albert discussed options. I didn’t contribute anything. I was waiting for the right moment to break the news that I was leaving.

They are going to need a new boat. Albert is sure that there are more marinas further into San Francisco Bay. There are also probably several docks across the bay in Oakland. I let them know that I had seen pictures of Treasure Island once (half-way across the Bay Bridge) and knew there was a marina there. The only problem was that the rain and winds had picked up and it would not be safe to take a leaking boat across the bay in those conditions.

I offered to go out into the city and try to locate a vehicle. In my mind, I figured that if I could get a vehicle working, I could drive them across the Bay Bridge into Oakland and check out the ports along the way. Hopefully they would find a suitable boat and I could at least see them safely on their way. Regardless, I knew I would be stuck with them until the weather cleared.

I suggested that everyone stay on the boat while I searched, but nobody would go along with that. Even Grace whined about us all sticking together. I finally gave up trying and we all geared up to go explore the city.

We left the marina and walked up Beach Street to a large parking structure. The rain was coming down in sheets. The good side to this was that the rain covered our movements. I had discovered that the undead didn’t seem to be active when it was raining.

The first two levels of the parking lot were empty. On the third level, there were several vehicles but they were mostly compacts. I was more interested in an SUV or truck. On the forth level, we found several dead, decomposing bodies near the stairwell. There were no signs of infected people. Chloe growled at the bodies, which caused Grace to start whimpering.

Alison shushed her and we moved on. The roof level was empty. We took a different stairwell to the ground and decided to head up Stockton Street to look for more parking lots. We found a Nissan SUV parked on the side of the street. I checked under the wheel wells and bumper for a magnetic spare key box and actually found one! Just as I put the key in the door to open it, Alison cleared her throat and pointed at the front tire.

There was a boot on the wheel. I sighed and dropped the keys on the street. Grace told me she needed to pee. It was cold and miserable out and we were all soaking wet. We continued up the street. As we were crossing Bay Street, we heard the distinct moaning of the undead. I looked around frantically, searching for a place to hide.

We ducked into the stairwell of an apartment building. We heard running feet pass nearby. They continued up the street away from us. As we emerged onto the street again we heard more wails from the Infected.

Across the street, I spotted a fire escape on the outside wall of another small apartment complex. We stopped under the escape platform and I boosted Albert up to the steel grating. He struggled and finally managed to pull himself up. I boosted Grace and Albert pulled her up. We repeated the process with Alison. Chloe squirmed in my grip as I tried to hand her up to Alison. Alison finally reached down and grabbed Chloe by the scruff, pulling her up.

I crouched down behind a parked car as several more undead ran past, my weapon at the ready. I wondered where they were all going. From several blocks away I heard the boom of a large caliber firearm. Someone fired three more times. The sounds were coming from the direction the creatures were heading.

I didn’t have any time to contemplate it though, as I heard rushing footsteps converging from several directions. There were two mail drop boxes on the sidewalk directly below the fire escape. I climbed up on them, almost slipping off of their slick surface, and leapt, barely catching the edge of the metal platform. I hauled myself up and we all mounted the stairs to the third floor. Several more shots echoed off the buildings.

We bunched up on the third-floor platform. The ladder to the roof had pulled away from the wall. I shoved past everyone to the sliding window and tried to pry it open. I froze as several more creatures ran past, toward the sounds of the gunfire.

I wedged my pry bar back in the edge of the window frame. It gave in, but not before the window cracked loudly. I closed my eyes and cringed. The sound went unnoticed. I slid the window open and slipped inside, motioning everyone to wait. I found myself in someone’s apartment. The musty smell attested to the fact that nobody had been there for a while. I could vaguely smell decomposition. My heart started pounding.

I cleared the rooms one by one. In the bathroom, I found the source of my concerns. A decomposed, dead body was lying between the toilet and the bathtub. I closed the bathroom door, leaving it in peace. I made sure the front door was dead bolted and went back to the window.

Once everyone was inside I sat down on the couch, exhausted. The lack of sleep and anxiety had finally caught up with me. Grace told me she had to pee again. I told her she couldn’t go into the bathroom. Another volley of gunshots rang out. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was Alison convincing Grace that it would be alright for her to pee in the sink.

I woke up to Albert shaking me. I opened my eyes to see him putting his finger to his lips, motioning for silence. I got up and listened.

Outside on the street below, I heard the sound of a vehicle driving slowly by. I went to the window and saw a black Humvee (the old kind) rolling up Bay Street. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to try to flag it down, or hide. The decision was made for me when the vehicle accelerated and disappeared up the block. It was 2:30 p.m.. I had slept for almost three hours.

I took out my binoculars and scanned the area. A block away I could see a pickup truck parked on the side of the street. I didn’t see any movement around. We went back out the fire escape and dropped from the lowest platform back to the street. I didn’t want to lower the ladder to the street for fear of the noise it would make. It was still drizzling out. We quietly moved up the block to the pickup.