Welcome to the End

Chapter 18: Guidance

Gunfire from the ship halted instantly when the explosion tore apart the roof and all those standing on it. Damaged by the blast, and lacking the support structure of the roof beams, the building collapsed in a cloud of dust and broken concrete, becoming a pile of rubble and mangled bodies.

Silence. It fell upon the scene with an eerie intensity. Only a temporary disruption of the stillness occurred when the undead turned almost in unison and looked toward the ship sitting in port. Their eyes were lifeless white orbs, and the corpses stood as still and quiet as grave markers.

"Why are they staring at us?" the Walton schoolteacher asked. Kevin remembered he had yet to get her name.

"They're looking for food, Miss," Kevin replied, trailing off and hoping she would fill in the blank.

"Alana Meyer," she informed him.

"Well then, Alana," Kevin continued, "We're out of reach, but they are very much aware of our presence."

Kevin felt unnerved by the silent attention of the horde. Their quiet malevolence sent shivers up his spine.

While most of the people had their attention fixed on the undead, George was watching a much closer threat. Standing only a few feet from him were two scavengers they'd let onboard.

The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and the scars he carried were a testament to the violence directed toward him just as the kill tally marks on his chest designated how much death he'd dispensed in return.

The girl standing beside the man couldn't have been older than nineteen or twenty. Her flaming red hair was oddly neat for a scavenger. Having encountered the Bloody Hand tribe before, George knew about their habit of dipping their hands in red dye, so the edges of the dye at her wrists being at different levels of intensity told him she'd been a member for many years.

Because of her young age, George estimated the girl had probably been captured by the tribe when only nine or ten years old. Standing by the railing, her gentle face and calm demeanor were the image of tranquility, but George knew it to be a lie. Having survived years among the scavengers would require the girl to be a viscous and ruthless killer.

Both of the scavengers were very dangerous. George knew first hand one didn't leave the habits of an old life in a single day, and he wondered how many of their brutal and violent habits would result in the deaths of those onboard. Surrounded by the untrained and unprepared civilians of Walton, the scavengers were wolves among blind sheep.

"Does anyone know how to get this tub moving?" Kevin inquired loudly enough for those on the main deck to hear him clearly.

"I have some experience with ship engines," George spoke up. "I'll need help as I can't do everything in the engine room by myself."

"Enlist whoever you want," Kevin instructed. "Let's get out of here."

While George walked among the refugees, collecting people who would be helpful in running the engine room under his instruction, Kevin headed for the bridge.

Isabella remained behind to guide those not needed for running the ship to the rooms they'd be using for their quarters while at sea. Although Isabella lacked a practical knowledge of the ship's layout, she knew it was best to get the people off the deck and away from the unwavering stare of the zombie horde watching them from the docks. There was something inherently unsettling about being silently watched by a motionless predator, and the undead made neither a sound or the slightest of movements; they might as well have been statues.

Since he hated the idea of leaving the scavengers unobserved, George imparted quick instructions to three men for them to keep an eye on their "guests".