SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

59

AMY

"Run! Go!" the soldier shouted. "We'll hold them off."

Amy didn't stick around to argue the point with her military chaperons, not while a host of zombies headed towards them. Leaving their protectors to open fire on the approaching herd, she and Janice took off running behind Merl. True to form, their coworker hadn't bothered to wait around for them. He was a coward, but at least she knew what to expect of him. That was more than could be said of the men in uniform.

She still couldn't fathom why the army was dead set on wrecking their home, yet gave the people living here a free pass. Surely they realized it would take a lot more than a single act of mercy to worm their way back into their good graces. Even if Rupert came to accept them, the bad blood they spilt today would take years to forgive.

Janice gasped and stumbled. Amy grabbed her, nearly falling in the process.

"Thanks," her friend exhaled, nudging her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"We're almost there."

Waiting for them at the finish line, Merl caught his breath alongside the last boat in the pier. The other vessels had already departed down the river, their decks laden with frightened passengers.

Ed Stillson unfastened the old fishing boat's mooring line from its pylon. "You're the last ones coming? Hop aboard."

"Wait," Amy said. "What about Rupert? He's—"

"He's not coming. He told me so himself."

"Shouldn't we wait for him anyway?" Janice asked. "He could've changed his mind."

"From the sounds of that gunfire, we're out of time. Rupert wanted me to get everyone to safety, so that's what I'm doing. Climb onboard. We're leaving."

Merl didn't need any further convincing. He scrambled onto the deck as if the seat of his pants were on fire. Amy considered Ed for a moment before helping Janice board behind him.

The boat's exhausted, rake-thin captain appeared from the wheelhouse. "We can't leave yet," he said. "We still need to fuel up. There's not enough petrol to make it all the way back."

"We only need to get away from here. We can manage the rest of the way once we're somewhere safe. Miss, get on board."

Amy glanced over her shoulder. Up the road, the four privates who escorted them were busy taking out a slow-moving herd of walking death.

"Miss!" Ed urged.

"Okay, okay."

She jumped onto the deck of the bobbing boat. Ed tossed the line at her feet and hopped off the pier to land by her side.

"That's everyone," he said to the skipper. "Let's get underway."

"Okay, but I'm warning you. We're not going to get far."

With a sickened pallor to his cheeks, Ed stared at what remained of their home for the past two weeks. Amy did the same.

The soldiers were gone, probably returned to their squad. In their absence, the horde was splitting up. While most of the dead continued north, drawn by the relentless clamor of gunfire, a number of zombies followed the road down to the quay. The sputtering churn of the boat's motor was all the enticement they needed to come this way looking for an easy meal.

"As long as we're away from here," she heard Ed mutter under his breath.

Fingers laced within hers. Amy peered over at Janice standing beside her, holding her hand. The woman's gaze remained fixed on the disaster back on dry land.