End of the Line (43 page)

             
I didn’t respond to that. Instead I said: “Get one of dad’s guns.”

             
Joe nodded. I knew he could not hit a thing but at least he knew how to shoot it.

             
“Start getting some food, medicine and clothes together. Don’t take anything we don’t need. Really Grace, just what we need. Meet me downstairs in a half-hour.”

             
Joe went downstairs. Instead of gathering the things together, I want to daddy’s room one last time.

             
His face was a mess, but I pulled the blanket off the bed. He was wearing pants and a polo shirt. I took the silk sheets off and wrapped him in them. When I finished, I kissed the other part of his face not blown off, his left cheek.

             
I left the room. I kept a pretty gym bag in my closet. Usually a servant packed it for me each day and it was packed now, ready for me to exercise. I dumped everything out. Then threw in some socks, underwear, extra pants, and a few polo shirts I looked at all my beautiful tailored clothes and realized I had to leave them. It was early May, so I did not need anything warm. I told myself that this would blow over and we would be home soon. Daddy, Uncle Len and Edina would get a proper burial. I packed my fur stole just in case and a few scarves. I also packed some of my makeup. I wasn’t going to look awful in a crisis.

             
A chain with a sign that read: “Private. Owners and Guests Only” greeted me. I removed it and made my way to the slip.

             
The sailing yacht was a behemoth, probably worth a good 4-5 million. Ours was bigger but it was out in Mariner’s Cove. No one took this one because getting those sails up manually would be a nightmare. It would be a pain to do it all myself, but I could. I didn’t need all the sails up, just enough to get me out of the harbor. I wondered if I should go back and get someone to help me, but instead I started working on the sails.

             
I finished packing medical supplies and clothes for Joe in a duffle bag but I kept my stuff to the single bag not counting my Prada purse. I went downstairs and to the kitchen. I rarely went in here, every day the servants would bring me what I asked. I opened the fridge. There was a ton of food but I knew that we shouldn’t take anything that spoiled. I grabbed canned food and stuff that didn’t need refrigeration. Afterwards I would put together a small meal from leftovers so Joe and I could eat before we left.

             
I packed what I could from the pantry: a huge stack of power bars, Daddy loved them, sliced carrots that the cook had cut for me, and a few apples. Then I pulled out cold chicken, and a big salad from the fridge. I didn’t know anything about cooking but I needed food that could be eaten cold.

             
I put some on a plate, added a glass of lemonade. Wasn’t I good hostess! I swung the rifle to my back and carried the food to the garden to give to Joe.

             
It was sunny outside, warm and maybe a good time to jog on the beach.

             
When I got to the garden, I dropped the plate and glass, destroying an expensive plate from my grandmother’s china and scattering perfectly good food and lemonade on the floor.

             
Joe had only dug a little bit. A little bit before one of them got him. It was Carlos, one of the gardeners.

             
Now he was eating Joe who was still alive.

             
I was sick but that didn’t stop me from shooting him in the head.

             
Carlos flew back into the rose bushes that he loved to tend.

             
“Joe,” I said, going to him.

             
“Shit, Grace,” he said, gasping for breath. “I didn’t even see him. I wish he didn’t come in today.”

             
“Next time, we’ll give him the day off. I bought you food and lemonade.”

             
Joe tried to smile but instead grimaced in pain, blood dribbled out of his mouth.

             
“Grace—I need something from you.”

             
“Anything.”

             
“Kill me now. Shoot me in the head, end my misery.”

             
I paused. I felt numb. Then I said: “Joe—I can’t. I promise I’ll kill you before the virus takes you, but you’re still alive.”

             
“I know—but there is so much pain, please Grace. Kill me, and then get the fuck out of here. I don’t want you to wait.”

             
More curses from my mild mannered brother.

             
I had to do it. I don’t know how long Joe could stay like this. Would he die now or in a few hours?
             

             
I shot my loving brother in the face.

             
When I learned Rachel was immune, I now dealt with the extra guilt of wondering if my brother could have been immune too or if his wounds would have killed him. I’ll never know.

             
I ran back into the house to the basement where my father kept the guns and ammo in safes. I packed more ammo than food. I filled an entire suitcase of it. I added more pills and booze from Joe’s room. I took three rifles. I got more food, stuffed myself with chicken, packed my car and fled my home.

             
It was hard getting the sail up because it required about three people, but eventually I got it. I cast off and headed to the edge of the harbor to head off the others at the pass. While I waited, I looked around the boat to see what it had. There was a two big cabin suite aft, two small ones in the bow, and three crew rooms each with bunk beds. The area between the cabins included a saloon and a galley. The saloon had a circular table surrounded by two large plush benches. It would be cramped if everyone came on board but even with us and our stuff we still wouldn’t go over the weight limit. There was an open space on the foredeck and a lounge area below the wheel deck. Large French doors could close it in. It was meant for comfort but not a permanent residence.

             
I realized I needed to be with people. I couldn’t be alone, not anymore. I might be able to sail, I might be able to shoot, but when that zombie grabbed me with its cold slimy hands, I froze. I would have been dead if not for Tanya.

             
“Holy shit,” I heard a voice from outside. “Look at the size of that thing.” It sounded like Dave.

             
I came out from the under the deck and saw Jim and the others looking flabbergasted at me.

             
“Ahoy,” I said to the others. “I’ve decided to give you all a ride. Would you all like to come aboard?”

             
No one said anything for a few moments. I liked watching them with their mouths agape. Even the kids who were teary eyed.

             
“That’s my kind of ride,” Tanya said. “Mike, get close so we can get on.”

             
Mike, Dave, Annemarie and Henry paddled their boat next to this one. I tossed a ladder so they could get on. It took a few moments because Brie latched on to Hannah’s neck with a death grip when they crossed.

             
When Jim came aboard, he made a beeline to me. Mike helped the others aboard.

             
“This is a surprise—“ he said. “A nice one.”

             
“Forgot to mention, I can also sail as well as shoot.”

             
Tanya joined us.

             
“Rich bitch Princess saves the day.”

             
“Please don’t call me that anymore. My name is Grace.”

             
Tanya didn’t respond. She looked surprised.

             
“I’m your pilot,” I said. “You are the captain, where do you want to go? Still to Connecticut?”

             
Now Tanya looked confused, possibly because I never said a civil word to her.

             
“Can you get this big boy back to shore near the truck? We left half our supplies.”

             
“I can try. Boats are women.”

             
“I wanna go to the ocean,” Tanya said. “As far as we can from this place.”

             
A quick run passed Fisher’s Island would take us to the Atlantic. I used to go out there to watch the races. I could sail there, with navigation maps but I wasn’t sure how far out I could go. I knew the basics of sailing, enough to work this boat, but I don’t know if I could handle anything more advanced. If we could get the GPS working that would help.

             
“It’s going to be tough,” Jim said, but then he smiled. “In the short run we should be okay. We can’t live on canned food forever. We have to start thinking about farming.”

             
“Come on. Bet everyone wants to get out of here. We got enough food and water for a while.”

             
“What do you think, Grace?” he asked me.

             
“I can steer us.”

             
“Even with us commoners?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“You’ll teach everyone how to sail and shoot, no strings attached?”

             
“And no more dope for shooting?” Tanya asked. “Cause I won’t be a dope dealer, not anymore.”

             
“I will shoot, I will sail. I will teach. That is all I will do. No payments.”

             
Tanya went over to consult with the others. With the exception of Henry and Eric, they all seemed happy about her idea. She came back to us.

             
“Is Henry going?” Jim asked. He didn’t ask about Eric.

             
“Yeah, but he gets sea sick. Luckily, we took a big thing of Dramamine. Everyone else is good.”

             
“I’ll cast off when you’re ready. Pick out where you want to stow.”

             
“Don’t want the best bedroom, Grace?” Tanya asked.
             
             

             
“No. A bunk in the crew quarters is adequate.”

             
I don’t know how long I drove around, the end was fucking nigh. If it wasn’t zombies, it was people looting food stores. No one wanted to steal my car, a silver Lexus, when there were plenty of free cars to take. My three rifles kept the leeches away. The population had taken the warning and stayed home when they were sick. Most died at home in bed, like Daddy.

             
When I figured out that there was nowhere to run, nowhere safe to go, that’s what the last radio broadcast said, I hunkered down in a place I could easily defend. It was an apartment above a store. It was easy in the beginning. There was still water, electricity and gas. I took a bath every day. I cooked food that had been left over. I drank water from the tap instead of my reserve supply.

             
First the electricity went. But that didn’t matter. The radio and TV no longer broadcasted, the internet didn’t connect so who needed it and I had eaten all the perishables from the refrigerator. I had plenty of candles and a flashlight. I could still cook and take my bath. I spent the day perched at a window, waiting for zombies, while stoned on pain killers and booze. At night, I slept locked in the bedroom.

             
Then the gas went out. No more cooking, ate beans out of the can, ate Daddy’s powerbars. Had cold showers instead. They were nice because without electricity, there was no AC.

             
I tried not to think about murdering my brother even though he asked me to.

             
Then the water stopped coming. I had lots of bottled water. I wish that I filled up more from the tap.

             
I think it was the fact I was running low on booze and pills that caused me to leave.

             
I got close enough to marina so that they didn’t have to walk far although the boat was too big to get close to the parking lot where the truck was. I got off the boat, leaving Jim to watch it and work out living arrangement. Dave said he’d look at the electric system to see if he could get it up and running. Mike had some fuel. The boat might need new spark plugs to start again. Both Henry and Tanya volunteered to figure out how to hotwire it.

             
I went to shore to watch for zombies as the others brought suitcases and bags back and forth. I wasn’t ready to do manual labor, other than putting up the sails. Daddy taught me to sail, said sometimes you had to be alone without servants. While I could get the sail up, I was still an amateur at it. We would be okay as long as we stayed near shore.