Dead Sea

    "After that, I ran. Managed to get a pistol off one of the gang members. I was out of ammo by the time I reached the Inner Harbor. There were zombies all around by then-I guess the fires were flushing them out. But so many of them were children. So many…"

    He stared at Tony, unflinching.

    "If I go back out there and I see another dead child, I'll kill myself. It's that simple. I don't want to die, but I know my limits. I can't do it. Does that answer your question, Mr. Giovanni?"

    "Yeah," Tony said, placing an arm on Basil's shoulder. "Yeah, man. You don't need to say any more. It's okay."

    "That's bizarre," Mitch said. "All the zombies I saw before boarding this ship, I didn't see any of them displaying traits like that. Maternal instinct? Does that mean they can learn? Evolve?"

    "If it does," I said, "then we are truly fucked."

    "Like I said," Basil whispered, "she was fresh. Maybe she still had some rudimentary instincts left in her."

    Chief Maxey cleared his throat. "So who replaces Basil on this mission?"

    I raised my hand. "I'll go."

    "You?" Hooper snorted. "I don't want you watching my back."

    "That's a shame," I snarled. "You've got such a nice ass."

    "Motherfucker…"

    "Knock it off, Hooper," the chief warned. "Lamar, are you sure about this?"

    I nodded. Mitch slapped me on the back. The others seemed okay with it.

    "Okay," Chief Maxey said. "Then let's take inventory. Mr. Bollinger, how many weapons did you bring aboard?"

    Mitch gave him a rundown of his guns and grenades, and how much ammunition he had left for each. In addition to those, Runkle, Tony, Hooper, and many of the others also had weapons. There was also Basil's empty pistol, which Mitch said he had ammo for. We divvied up the firearms and agreed that Runkle should act as team leader.

    And then we were ready.

    "Okay," Chief Maxey said. "Turn, you prepare the lifeboat. The rest of you arm yourselves. I'll go relieve Chuck on the bridge and take us in."

    We should have smelled them first, but the breeze was blowing toward the shore. We saw them soon enough, though. Lined up along the ship's port side rail with several pairs of binoculars that we'd taken from the ship's displays, we stared in horror and disgust. The summer heat and exposure to direct sunlight and the elements had done a job on them. The dead looked like bloated, oversized ants shuffling along the beach. They crawled through the sand and sprawled in the surf, wandering aimlessly in search of prey. Seagulls darted down out of the sky and plucked away bits of rotting flesh and the insects that burrowed inside the zombies. Then they'd take flight again and fight each other in midair for the choicest morsels. Decaying ears, cheeks, eyeballs, and noses dangled from their beaks. Occasionally, a bird moved too slowly or sat on a zombie's shoulder for a second too long. Then, dead hands lashed out, seizing the birds-ripping and chewing in an explosion of blood and feathers. As we stared through the binoculars, we saw more zombies on hotel balconies and patio decks. Virginia Beach's boardwalk was actually off the beach, hidden behind a row of hotels and restaurants and stupid trinket shops. We caught glimpses between the buildings as we sailed by. Both the boardwalk and the streets were choked with corpses. I couldn't believe how many of them there were. We saw no signs of anyone still alive-the zombie's food source had to be running out. Why didn't they move on?

    "Look at them all," Chuck gasped. "If you didn't know they were dead, it would be like a regular day at the beach."

    Joan paled. "I can't watch. I'm going to be sick."

    She handed her binoculars to Nick, and then leaned out over the rail and threw up. Nick adjusted the focus, peered through the binoculars, and then closed his eyes and turned away.

    "Jesus." He sounded like he might be getting sick, too.

    "I want to see," Malik said, reaching for my pair of binoculars.

    "No," Carol admonished. "You don't need to see that."

    "Damn straight I do. Let me get those binoculars, Lamar."

    "Malik." Carol's voice grew stern. "What did we agree in regards to your cursing?"

    "You said I shouldn't use swear words, but I don't remember agreeing to it."

    Tasha slapped him on the head. "Quit being a dork."

    "Stop hitting me! Lamar, Tasha hit me."

    Sighing, 1 handed my pair of binoculars to Basil. Then I bent down and put an arm around each of the kids.

    "Listen, guys. Mitch and I have got to go with the others to the mainland, so while I'm gone, you need to behave. Don't fight. Don't give Miss Carol or Miss Alicia any shit."

    Carol pursed her lips and scowled at me.

    "Urn, I mean, trouble."

    "Why do you and Mitch have to go?" Tasha asked.

    "Because we need stuff' Food, water, medicine. We don't want what happened to Stephanie to happen to anyone else."

    Malik pulled away. "Can I go, too?"

    I shook my head. "Not this time."

    "But I can fight zombies. I'm good. Just give me another grenade."