Ttod Ozola, a black-trade fisherman and father of two, flees his home on the coast of Riga, Latvia when a deadly zombie pathogen ravages Eastern Europe. With no intentions of ever returning, Ozola abandons his daughters by convincing himself that th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
GULF OF RIGA, LATVIA. 28AUGUST 2031.
TTOD OZOLA SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT his daughters behind.
Six days ago, Ttod pulled the anchor that moored his humble fishing boat on the coast of Riga, Latvia. With his apprentice Gwynth Quinn in tow, they'd abandoned everything to flee their home which had been ravaged by the infected.
The decision to abandon everything had not been easy, but they knew it was the right choice. The two of them had watched on helplessly as survivors were torn to shreds: eyes gouged from their sockets, intestines tugged from torsos like a mime pulling rope until the entirety of their insides were displayed on the stone pavement beside their corpse.
Some survivors made it as far as the water.
No one disappeared into the open ocean – except for them.
Ttod was guilty about abandoning his daughters, sure, but Gwynth assured him that their actions had been necessary. If they hadn't acted when they did, they'd have been slaughtered.
In this case, the survival of two outweighed their duty to many.
Ttod tightened the corners of his bedsheet: military corners, just like his youngest, Katherin, had taught him. The sheets were threadbare cotton, once blue, but now at best, a faded grey. His daughters had bought them for his sixtieth birthday – after they'd found out Ttod slept on a bare mattress on his week-long trips across the ocean. The gesture was touching, although Ttod would never admit it. His children were certainly nothing like him.
Ttod shuddered. He'd let his children die.
Gazing out the window, Ttod caught a glimpse of Gwynth's backside as she reached for the net dangling over the side of the boat. Young and pretty, Gwynth would have been the perfect companion, if she wasn't so morose.
Truthfully, Ttod had only taken Gwynth on as an apprentice as a favour to Katherin. Gwynth had come to Latvia in search of her sister – Katherin's girlfriend – and had been determined to remain in the city until she convinced her sister to return home.
A few measly fish slapped onto the deck as Gwynth hauled the net onto the boat. Prodding them with a stick, Gwynth turned her attention to the water. Something wasn't right.
"Ozola!" Gwynth barked, glancing over her shoulder at the cabin. If she hadn't looked so worried, Ttod would have sworn Gwynth was chastising him for sleeping in. It wouldn't be the first time.
Ttod pushed the cabin door open. His right leg dragged behind him with an uneven thrum as he met Gwynth on the deck.
"What is it?"
"The fish. They're not right."
"What do you mean 'not right?' They're fish," Ttod muttered.
Still, he stepped towards the fish warily. Gwynth wasn't one for hysterics.
