Last Breath

Last Breath - Part 1 of 2

A boat sailed steadily along into the open waters of an unforgiving sea. Waves pulled the boat onward, water spilling over the sides. It was a mid-sized fishing boat, meant to carry just a few people and a lot of equipment. The engine sputtered to a stop, conserving gasoline for the long trip ahead. It was an older vessel that groaned in protest of the heavy load it carried; almost double that of its suggested occupancy. It was just after sunset.

Mia carefully stepped over the sprawling limbs of the tired and wounded passengers. She sought out a small open space and staggered towards it; her son growing heavy in her arms. The muscles in her legs and back threatened to give way and she sank into her small spot with a tiny whimper. The stench of blood and body odor turned her stomach. So many people crammed onto such a tiny boat. It was everyone they could find on such short notice.

"How old is your child, dear?" Mia looked to her left, at the woman questioning her. She was an elderly looking woman, pleasant enough, and trying to smile softly behind the grime smudged across her face. It would be alright to talk to her, for now, but don't get too close she warned herself, elderly ladies could be deceiving.

"Evan just turned six. He's a bit small for his age though." Mia wrapped the blanket he was wrapped in tighter around him, protecting him from the salty sea wind.

"My name is Audrey," said the woman, holding out her wrinkled hand.

Mia considered her options quickly. She could be rude and ignore the gesture. She could shake the woman's hand and take her chances. Seemed like a bit of a gamble just for pleasantries. This seemingly benign woman could be harboring the virus, hell; she could even be one of "them," her insides deteriorating as they spoke.

"My name is Mia," she answered, without offering her hand in return. No time like the present to get used to the new world order, touching strangers was a thing of the past. Everything changed once the virus was discovered.

They called it "the Phoenix Flu." It began as a random and very rare mutation of the common flu virus. A few people with nothing more than fevers and runny noses went to bed one night and didn't get up the next morning. It caused a small amount of alarm and autopsies were ordered on the bodies. The autopsies never took place though, because around 24 hours after death, the victims miraculously returned to life.

News traveled fast. Immediately religious groups rallied to stake claim to the miracle, scientists rushed to prove and disprove medical evidence, and people around the world full-on panicked. It wasn't that anyone wasn't glad to have their loved ones back; it just wasn't the natural order of things. Living things die every day, but they aren't supposed to come back.

A week or so later, it became apparent that something just wasn't right with these second-lifers. Their heartbeats slowed, their brains deteriorated, a foul smell permeated their skin. The skin around their eyes loosened and hung down in puddles under their eye sockets. Their hair fell out in clumps leaving just wispy patches behind. First they couldn't do basic math, then they forgot their families and within days completely lost the ability to reason. Unfortunately for us, they were also unreasonably strong. They refused to be held prisoner and after killing several military personnel a bill was quickly passed by the American Senate declaring the second-lifers clinically deceased and orders were given for their official termination. They were harder than hell to kill though.

If they bit you, or you got any of their blood or saliva on and open wound, you skipped the flu and regressed straight to zombie-hood within 48 hours. This, combined with the Phoenix Flu claiming more and more victims each week, quickly escalated the event into a raging epidemic. Extremely quick, a month at most.

"Are you traveling alone?" Audrey retracted her hand, looking tired but not the least bit surprised at refusal.

"We've lost a few along the way," Mia said. She rested her head against the blanket, feeling Evan's little body curled up in lap. She closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep, to avoid further conversation. The little boat rocked to one side and water spilled over, running down her back. It felt cold but refreshing, she didn't mind it.