I’m On A Boat
All I Want Is To Not Be Alone: Stories From The Start #6
Tape crackles and warbled audio springs from the tiny speaker.
*Someone clears their throat several times*
*A deep sigh*
*A deep inhale*
*Shuffling noises and a few small bangs*
I hope this thing is working. It’s been ages since I’ve used one. Used to have one when I was a kid. There was that movie, Home Alone, the one in New York. We all got these recorders after that. This one looks different, but it works the same, I guess.
*Unidentifiable sounds*
They always leave bubbles behind after they fall in. I can only imagine it turns the water putrid. They are corpses, after all. I assume they are. They have to be, the way they look.
I wonder if the crabs eat them. Maybe the fish do? I try not to think about that one too much, though. I eat the fish, but I’m not one of them, so maybe the fish just turn tail.
If another one splashes in, I think I’m going to yell out, call it an idiot. I don’t think I can help myself. But that’d only make more follow and drop in. Like stones splashing to the bottom. I wonder if they’ll eventually stack up, or if the current pulls them out to sea.
*The audio fades, followed by a few loud cracks*
... anchored out here, just far enough. Just deep enough. Close enough to hear them, far enough that I’m not one of them. Not yet.
I’m on a boat, if that’s not clear. A yacht, to be exact. It’s not mine, or at least it wasn’t. But it is now. Oh, there goes another one. Idiot!
Ah, shit. See? That did it. There go a whole bunch more. Right in the drink. Idiots.
*Clicking sounds*
Brian Strausman. That’s my name. For the record. If there needs to be a record. Shit, is this on? I thought the batteries were dying, but I found a pack in a drawer...
*Unidentifiable sounds*
OK. Yeah. OK, it’s working. This should be loud and clear. I checked it back. I hate the sound of my own voice, but I remember reading that everyone has that. It’s like a built-in default for self-hatred.
It’s strange, if you think about it. It totally goes against the idea of basic survival. Why would you save yourself if you’re wired to hate yourself? Maybe it’s an internal versus external thing? Who knows. I don’t. They don’t. Or I assume they don’t. Those suicide bombers out there.
*Chewing sounds and a long slurp, followed by a small burp*
At least I have water on here. Fresh water. This thing must have a tank or something. Must be for showers and toilets and all, but I haven’t been using any of those.
I’ve been trying to think about what I’ll do when the time comes. When it runs out, I need to get water from somewhere else. But I haven’t come up with anything good yet.
*Shuffling noises*
*Loud inhale*
I guess there’s always the other boat. I’d have to swim for it. But the weather’s alright. Water can’t be too cold. As long as those creeps don’t drag me under, it’d be an easy enough distance to cover. I don’t think the tide is too strong. The water moves, but it doesn’t really follow the low and high tides much. A little bit, sure, but not more than a couple of inches.
I wonder if there are sharks. That’d be something. I would think there wouldn’t normally be any in here. It’s a small inlet with a few docks. I couldn’t imagine there’s a huge food supply for them, but who knows, after all these sinkers have dropped in. It could be a swarm of sharks just feeding endlessly down there. Swarm? Or is it a school? A murder? No, that’s crows, but it would fit.
If my phone worked, I’d Google it. But that went out the window. It doesn’t matter. The thing is, if I want to get over there, I need to swim. He went in and never came back up. So, the same thing could happen to me.
I guess it would be different. Still, what a mess.
*Clicking sounds*
I came out here like a lot of the others. We were looking for a way out. The streets were jammed. Packed full of mostly abandoned cars. It was hard not to let the panic take over.
There was this feeling of impending doom. Like there was a wave surging toward the coast. There was, but that came later. Much later than everyone thought it would. Certainly, later than what I expected.
I was at home. I lived by myself, so I guess some things don’t change. I thought, Get to the shore. Hit the coast. Hop on a boat. Get out of Dodge. I guess everyone thought the same.
I don’t know how far away it is, but I had to leave my car way back there. It took me two days to walk here. Mostly through the nights, too. And it was a mess.
Everywhere was a mess, but any place with boats was really a mess. It was a savage mess. This was the third place I tried. The first two, forget it. Totally overrun. Boats on fire. It was all-out war. Some of the things people did.
This one group, I saw them. Thank God I had the sense to hold back, to hide out until I saw what they were doing.
They took this smaller group of...
*The tape stops*
A pen casing is used to wind the loose tape reel back into the cassette. The tape is placed back into the player. It springs back to life.
*Warbled, low pitch voice*
*Unidentifiable sounds*
... and that’s how I made it out of there. Barely. By the skin of my teeth, really. You would think I would’ve learned my lesson. Learned not to get into such a tight spot, but then I go and do the stupidest thing of my life.
I went back. I know, stupid. But you understand. I couldn’t leave him behind. I was alive because of him, after all. I owed him that much.
I did what you’re not supposed to do with zombies swarming around and went back into the mix. The widow was still open, so I slipped in there. I cut...
*Audio slows and deepens*
*Audio speeds up*
*Shuffling noises*
... and finally, that’s how I ended up here. The map proved its value. After all I went through to get it. Let’s just say I was happy it ended like that. I felt justified in some small way.
But that was it, just this little inlet off this little town. There’s one main street. Not much. Your usual stuff, I guess. A few local shops, a gas station, diner, two other restaurants, a post office, and an ice cream place. A knick-knack shop and a food store. I think there was a bank too.
It was all ravaged by the time I went through, and I had to hustle. This group that’s over on the dock was hot on my heels. I guess there is something to be said about that feeling of a coming wave. By then, it had already flooded into every small corner.
I could hear them coming before I could see them. It gave me enough time to check the docks. And there she was. This ship. Boat. Whatever. Tied up to the dock.
I won’t lie here. It wasn’t a clean scene. It looked right out of a true crime series. Just blood everywhere, but otherwise empty. I still counted my lucky stars, then untied the thing, just to find out it wouldn’t start. Don’t know, maybe no gas, maybe just broken. I’m no mechanic. Give me a spreadsheet and I’m your guy, but not this.
Despite its size, I was able to push it off the dock and let it drift out. But it wouldn’t have been enough. Then he shouted over from his boat. At first, it didn’t help. He just stood there yelling that I need to hurry up. That they are coming. He can see them. I’m not far enough out.
I knew all that, but didn’t see how to fix it. I said the same, and he told me about the small sail. I guess these boats, ships, whatever, all have a hidden mast with a sail you can prop up in case of any engine problems.
He told me how to release the anchor. It did the trick. I caught a small gust that pulled me out, and I dropped the anchor. And here I’ve been ever since.
*Sharp crackling sounds*
That’s Bobby for you. An old coot, but nice enough to help. Maybe he thought it’d be better for him. For a while it was. We could talk. Well, yell to each other, but the problem was that it always brought more to the docks. Always more splashing in.
I think that’s what drove him nuts. He mentioned his supplies were getting low, but we had ideas on that. No, it was that never-ending flow of bodies.
Bobby was older. A grandpa of six and father to three. The youngest didn’t have kids yet, but she was just married last spring, so he expected her to be pregnant soon enough. He was looking forward to it.
He’d never say it to his family, but to me, he confided she was his favorite. She was the baby. And just like him. It drove his wife crazy to have two of them in the house. She called them a gang. A gang of what, he never said, just the gang.
He showed me a picture of them. An actual, printed one. I couldn’t see it well at this distance, but could make out a large group of smiling heads. He kept it propped up, and I caught him looking at it when he thought I couldn’t see him.
Maybe that’s what was gnawing at his mind. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I noticed him changing a few days before it all went downhill.
*A high whining sound*
Testing...
*Squealing*
... stupid batteries. Come on...
*Clicks and rattling sounds*
... I didn’t know what to do. He was babbling all this nonsense. How he was being called back home. Back to his family. I thought maybe he was on something. Or that he was delusional from lack of water or food. But no. He showed me. He had what he needed. He said he wasn’t delusional or going mad from hunger. He was full and fit.
He just kept yelling about the Lord and being called home. All it did was call to the zombies. I’d try to sleep at night with Bobby’s howling and their splashing. It was useless. I don’t think the guy slept for 72 hours.
*A deep sigh*
*A deep sigh, followed by small sniffing sounds*
The next morning, the final morning, this was two days ago now, I went out as the sun was rising. There Bobby was, naked as the day he was born, waving and riling up the crowd on the shore.
They’re always the worst in the morning. Not because they change in any way, but because you can see them as the harsh truth in that bright light. It cuts right through any imagined ideas that they’re not that bad. That they’re still people. That this is not the end of the world. Well, of humanity, anyway.
The bright morning sun shows it all, just like all the scars and pimples after a heavy night of drinking. Maybe that’s what turned Bobby. He could still see that in the warm afternoon glow and twilight mist. He couldn’t escape it.
He yelled at the sky and the sun. He said, I’m coming, baby! He dropped the spare anchor in with a splash. It was tied to a rope that was bound to his waist. It pulled him in with little more than a quick slurp.
I think he was lucky. That old bastard.
*Audio becomes incoherent*
Side A is at an end. The tape is flipped to the B side.
*High pitched sounds*
... and that’s it. It’s out. I guess I sucked it dry. I was hoping it would last longer. This bad boy looks like it can do long hauls out on the open water. You’d think it could carry more. But maybe it wasn’t full, wasn’t topped up.
Does it matter? No. It’s empty, it’s empty. I have a little over two bottles worth left. That should last me, sparingly, maybe for two days.
Shit. I’m not going to sit here and die of thirst. I’m not going to go insane like Bobby. That’s not me. It can’t be.
*Audio slows and deepens*
*Unidentifiable sounds*
I’m going to have to leave the boat. There’s no way around it. Maybe I can come back, but I have to leave. It’s either give Bobby’s boat a shot or make it further up the shore and inland. The dock is full, but around that looks alright. They’ve kind of grouped in one spot.
But even if I found water, how would I get it back here? I don’t think I can swim and carry a... what? How much would I need? How much is the risk worth? How long can I hold out here? Even if I can extend it, till when? When the weather starts to change? Soon enough, the water will ice over. They’ll be able to walk right out, won’t they?
Shit. I don’t know.
*Audio turns to white noise*
I thought about it, but I feel the hours following me. I need to make a move. I had almost decided on Bobby’s boat, but I kept going back to the thought of how long?
Even if there’s water, for what? Weeks? Even a month or two. I doubt it. And still. I keep thinking about the dock group becoming ice skaters. No. This can’t be a long-term situation. I’m going to have to get back to solid land.
If I need to take the dive at some point, better now while the weather’s good than later when it isn’t.
I wonder if this is what old Bobby was thinking about. Was he weighing the same debate in his head? Maybe it was easiest for him not to make the hard choice. He gave it up to the big-man-in-the-sky. I don’t know if that’s for me. It seems like a cop-out. I should make the choice that’s mine to make. Can’t leave something so important up to someone else.
*Shuffling noises, followed by a loud bang*
Jesus! They did it. They must be stacking up down there. Shit. Look at that! They go over each other like a bridge. It’s like a living, I don’t know, it’s like a walkway. The Red Sea never parted. It was just lined with bodies.
At least they’ve only made it a few strides off the dock. But Jesus. That’s, well, it’s horrifying, is what it is. Maybe it’s not the worst thing that the water is about out. I couldn’t stay here. Not knowing they’re coming. What’s that line again?
They’re coming for you, Barbara.
*Clicking*
The sun’s about down. I know what I’m going to do. Wait till dark. Total dark. I have a small pack. I’ll slip into the water and glide as quietly as I can further down the shore. These freaks seem to be only grouped by the dock. Their progress out into the water gives them, I don’t know, more energy or something.
I know it’s just all that splashing around is loud. It’s the sound that’s making them wilder, but my mind turns it into a drive of hunger. Their little bridge is growing way faster than I expected.
It’s creepy. Makes my skin crawl. Maybe Bobby wasn’t so off his rocker in just sinking down. The scene I’m looking at doesn’t inspire much hope. It’s just this flood of death spilling forward.
Jesus, I hope they’re not under and just pull me down by my toes into the blackness.
*Loud bang*
*Shuffling noises*
Hey! Over here! I’m out here! Stop! Don’t go there! Don’t go there!
*Shuffling noises*
*Audio becomes incoherent*
OK, OK, OK. Look, there’s a car out there. I saw them from their headlights. They’re up the shore from the docks. I don’t think the zombies noticed them.
It looks like three, maybe four people. I turned the little propane lamp I have to full blast. They saw me. Thank God, they stopped. They don’t know what they’d be driving into. A massacre, that’s what.
*Crackling sounds*
*The audio fluctuates from low to high pitched*
Alright. They waved. They see me. I made a big X with my arms. I think they got my meaning. They’re just sitting there. Oh, look! I think one has binoculars. I have some paper...
*Shuffling noises*
*Unintelligible yelling*
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. They’ll wait for me. I’m going to do it. I’m going to make the swim. God, I hope they’re not under me. If I can make it, there’s a clear way out in a car. Maybe they have water. I can teach them to fish. We might just make it.
But first things first, I’m going to Bobby’s boat. These people might be his family. His kids. I can’t tell, but how else would they end up here? Who else would know about this place?
I need to give them something small. I can do that for Bobby. I’ll swim there, grab that photo, then make my way to them over by the car. I can do that.
*Shuffling sounds*
You’d think I’d learned my lesson about going back. It didn’t end well last time. But I can’t. I can’t just leave it like that. I can’t leave Bobby hanging like that.
I don’t think I can leave anyone behind like that.
*Audio warbles*
It’s probably what’s going to get me killed. Jesus. What an idiot.
*Splashing sounds*
*Audio becomes incoherent*
Tape ends.