Chapter 9

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We only had moments to decide what to do, though there weren't really any choices. The sailboat, our reliable transportation for most of the last six months was disintegrating before our eyes and the zombies filled the water between us and the shore. The aft end of the small boat pointed further into the lake, the water under it was deeper. We were going to have to swim for it.

We had done the job of attracting the zombies' attention away from Malik's team. Too well. And backed ourselves into a corner of our own. I didn't have time to spare them a anything more than a brief prayer, we had to move.

The boat wallowed under our feet as we made our way back to the stern. Sparks and bits of burning sail drifting down around us. We were all loath to strip down, landing on the beach anywhere around the lake without weapons, armor, and supplies would be as sure a death as staying where we were but we didn't have a choice.

I dumped most of the supplies out of my pack, only keeping a few essentials. I kept my spiked baseball bat, hoping the wood would float instead of dragging me down. I also stripped the makeshift armor off my arms and legs, once it was water logged it would act like an anchor. My boots stayed on, I knew they would slow me down in the water but I would need them wherever we made to shore.

Peter and Nicholas did the same, losing excess weight, making hard decisions about their equipment fast. The supplies and armor that had been collected, the cost measured in blood, dropped in an instant.

Nicholas went below to see if there was anything useful.

As I readied to jump into the water, next to Peter, Nicholas returned with three desiccated life jackets. They were worn, faded orange, and looked like they might fall apart but hopefully better than nothing. He passed them out and the three of us jumped into the water.

The cold shocked my system. Even though it had only been a minute or two since we'd gotten to the boat, still soaked, the heat from the fire had lulled my body. Cold, like needles, dug into every inch of my skin. I struggled for a moment to get my arms and legs working in rhythm to get my head above water.

Just as my face neared the surface something tugged on my right boot. It felt like a hand grasping at me. A small hand. I kicked my leg, refusing to think about the possibilities, and pulled myself to the surface.

I gasped for air, my body and brain panicking. It wasn't a hand. It wasn't Joshua. It was probably just some weeds, I told myself.

The light on the lake was already starting to fade, the sun slipping behind the trees. Peter and Nicholas were a few yards ahead of me, life jackets tucked under their chests, kicking with their legs, heading deeper into the lake. My arms felt sluggish as I tried to maneuver the orange preserver to do the same.

I kicked after them, desperately trying not to think about what dwelled in the dark depths beneath me.

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