“Yes,” I said, and then turned to Jase, who was busy searching the surrounding area. “Any sign of them yet?”

“Not yet,” he said without looking at me.

“Hopefully we were able to get in enough distance between us and them that they won’t find us,” I said as we pulled up to the dock.

Fortunately, the small dock for the Aurora was on the south side of the towboat to better hide us from predators. “We should be safe now, as long as they don’t smell or hear anything,” Griz said.

“Not if they see anyone on the deck,” Clutch countered and squeezed Jase’s shoulder. “Hustle up and warn Tyler.”

“You got it.” Jase leapt off the boat and climbed up the rope ladder.

Wes waved from the deck above and lowered the platform.

Tyler’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Code Red. Code Red.”

He didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t need to. Everyone had been prepped for this moment since we’d arrived at the Aurora.

Maggie, Don, and Alana were sent up on the platform since none of them were in any condition to climb the ladder. We slid the deer onto the platform with them, not wanting to let the meat go to waste. I scrambled up the ladder as quickly as possible, with Clutch coming up right behind me.

Griz was already moving the newcomers toward the barge.

Jase waited for us. “Everyone’s headed below decks. I think we’re set.”

We crossed the deck as quickly as Clutch could walk and entered the galley. The room was packed, but no one said a word. Not even prayers were voiced aloud. People huddled together, many holding hands. I squeezed my way through to look out a window.

Time dragged by more slowly than my Corporate Finance class my junior year at college. I focused at not making eye contact with anyone except Clutch or Jase. We played cards, but even that grew dull. I eventually settled on daydreaming about flying the Cub over fields free of monsters.

As the sun set, dark shapes filled in the landscape, making the land look like an eerie ocean of ripples. By morning we’d know if they’d zeroed in on the Aurora. Until then, all we could do was wait.

And so we waited.

* * *

We were able to move above deck freely after the sun had set, though silence was critical. With over fifty people crammed on board the Aurora, whispers and the sounds of shuffling feet were the only breaks in silence. We’d all prepared for this moment, we’d practiced it over and over. But the five newcomers were foreign to us and our plans, adding a huge element of risk to our plans. Maggie and Don avoided us, glaring at me whenever our paths crossed. I wanted to glare right back. Instead, I tried to take the higher road and simply ignore their unthankful asses. Hali, still pissed at her father for offering her up, had isolated herself in a corner of barge One.

Even though Clutch thought it too risky, Tyler allowed Vicki to cook the deer for dinner since the wind was out of the north and the bay door was closed over the barge. Everyone ate in silence. The tension was higher than it had ever been.

Through the hull, the sound of the moaning herd made nails on a chalkboard almost melodic. As I lay in my bunk and stared at the springs and mattress of Jase’s bunk above, I prayed that they would have moved on before morning. I tried to sleep but settled for staring at the ceiling.

I headed up to the galley sometime before dawn. I didn’t bother checking my watch. Upstairs, Jase was kneeling on a bench, his hands clasped and his head down. Clutch sat at a table nearby, cleaning his rifle. I took a seat next to him and watched Jase. I hadn’t seen him pray since we’d buried his dog, and it worried me to see his façade gone.

Clutch glanced up before turning back to his work. “He’s been at it all night,” he said softly, also looking worried.

Seeing Jase’s ragged appearance, it was clear the stress was getting to him. His hair was mussed and dark circles underlined his eyes. I headed over to the countertop and poured a cup of coffee, and then set it down next to him.

He looked up, startled. “Oh. Thanks.”

I sat and wrapped an arm around him. After a moment, his tension gave way and he leaned into my embrace. “It’ll be okay,” I murmured. “We’re safe here.”

He nodded slightly before reaching for the cup and taking a drink. Holding the cup, he watched me for a moment, and then placed his forehead against mine. “I hope we’re safe.” When he pulled away, he put the cup down and traced the fresh scar on my face and he winced. “That’s still a doozy.”

“Do you think it’ll hurt my chances at getting a date?” I asked.

He gave me the smallest hint of a smile before he looked back out the window and wrapped his hand around the cross he wore.

I sat there, with my arm around Jase, while he prayed. Clutch eventually joined my side. We watched the night sky turn from black to dark gray with hints of gold in the east. As light gave definition to the shapes and trees, any hope I had plummeted.

I could make out the zeds filling the bridge and road to either side. Not a blade of grass remained. They’d filled in the entire area to the west, disappearing into the trees, and were still spreading out. Our Humvee at the boat ramp was being rocked as zeds fought to get whatever they smelled inside.

A leaf in the wind caught my eye, and I noticed it was blowing north, which meant the wind had switched direction sometime during the night. My eyes widened, and I grabbed Clutch’s arm. “The wind.”

He looked. After a moment, he nodded tightly and then pointed at the zeds. “I think we just entered hell.”

“No,” Jase said.

Clutch wrapped an arm around him, then another around me. I clung to him but could find no comfort in the embrace. My stomach clenched with terror. A tear rolled down my scarred cheek as I held onto Jase and Clutch and stared outside. One hundred thousand pairs of eyes were focused on Camp Fox, and they looked ravenous.

GLUTTONY

The Sixth Deadly Sin

Chapter XXII

Two very long weeks later

 

“It seems like the ones in back and on the edges are moving on,” Tyler said as he walked down the steps and into the crew quarters. “Only problem is that there’s still at least fifty thousand or more out there sticking around.”

“Figured that was the case,” Clutch said while he did another lunge. “I have to hand it to them. Once they zero in on something, the bastards are persistent.”

“It really sucks being at the bottom of the food chain,” I said, matching Clutch’s lunge.

Eight of us were going through daily exercises. We’d just finished several sets of push-ups and sit-ups. We tried to keep it interesting by having each scout come up with an exercise, but after a while, even that got old. There were only so many variations to a push-up.

But the herds outside just kept coming. Even though it seemed like tens, if not hundreds, of thousands continued on their journey, enough stayed behind, seemingly too hungry to continue for the slight chance for prey. Two herds currently surrounded the Aurora from the bridge and both sides of the river. They couldn’t reach us, not through the water, but at least a hundred tried—or were pushed—each day, and at least a couple dozen of those made it onto the island. I’d quit looking out the window on the fourth day. It made it easier to pretend that we weren’t caught in the middle of the world’s worst shit storm.

“C’mon. Just one.”

I turned to see Griz with his open hand stretched out.

Jase shook his head. “No way. Go find your own.”

“Why? You have a whole case of them.”

“I risked my life for them.” He held up a half-eaten candy bar. “These Snickers are my one and only joy in life so you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”