I wanted to talk to Allison. She needed to hear what I’d overheard earlier. Now wasn’t the time. Moments ago, the Captain woke us. The nine of us, the civilians, were herded together. The soldiers surrounded us. Might look like they were protecting us, keeping us safe from the sides of the craft, but I wasn’t so sure. The storm ended. Not sure how long ago. The waves were constant, but smaller. The thunder quit its ruckus a while back. I hadn’t seen a flash of lightning since we’d been on deck.

As I stood there, I thought two things. I really wanted a shower. I had to be raw. The last one was nearly a week ago, and somehow, I’d lost the cigarette Marf had shared with me. That pissed me off.

The rain had stopped. That was upsetting, as well. For obvious reasons, I’d come to love the rain since zombies did not.

I hated feeling suspicious toward everyone around us. Part of me, as much as I hated to admit it, really felt like better days were ahead. Chatterton and his two yanked that strand of hope I’d attempted to hold. I’d keep an eye on them. Although trust had never been established, now respect was sent overboard as well. Fuck him. Fuck them.

Ignorance wasn’t my goal, wasn’t bliss. Better to know where things stood than relish oblivion. Some people operated fine living lost in the world they’ve created inside their mind, but not me. The key was being prepared to accept whatever that truth might be. Some looked for answers, but buried their head in the sand because they didn’t like what was found. Way I saw it, the truth was essential. Me? I dug and dug until whatever hidden truth was there was unearthed.

“We’re on the St. Lawrence now,” Captain Keel said. “Made pretty good time, actually.”

Something had to be wrong with the Captain. Guy was always smiling. He didn’t look at one person too long. His eyes roamed back and forth over each of us. When they were on me, I didn’t like it, even before I’d listened in on Chatterton’s conspiracy theory.

“Be roughly forty minutes or so and we’ll be at Cedar Point Park. Don’t know about you all, but I’m hungry and looking forward to a nice meal. We’re getting in late. I radioed ahead this morning, and told them to expect us late tonight. Keep the kitchen open, and such. I was assured dinner would still be hot once we docked.” Captain Keel stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The waves were big enough that I’d lose my balance if I mimicked his stance.

I wasn’t sure what was expected of us. We stood there for what seemed to go on for a while. Soldiers held their rifles. I noticed full magazine clips on their belts. I don’t remember giving back the sidearm. All I knew was I no longer had it.

The tension must have been thick, because no one talked. We all seemed to sense . . . it. No idea what ‘it’ was. Don’t know how I felt about docking. We were clearly safer on water. There was that movie. Costner was in it. A world with no land. Floating cities built on boats. Might be a viable alternative, once I figured out if zombies could swim or not. If they just didn’t like water, or water harmed them. Throw buckets of water on them, listen to them screech and watch them melt. That would make everything simple. So simple.

Cash squeezed my hand. I looked down. He looked to his right, pointed. I followed with my eyes. Land.

Felt like we’d completed a journey across an ocean. Left America for some unknown, uncharted location. We’d spent over four hours on a lake I’d swum in since I was kid. We’d met the St. Lawrence River, and although Canada was a hell of a lot closer, we were still in New York. Go figure. Makes you feel kind of small and unimportant. And it was just a lake. A big one, but still just a lake.

“When can we take these off?” Charlene tugged at her life vest.

“Careful of that pull-string. Those things swell up fast. Feel like it’s choking you,” I said.

“Can we take them off?”

The boat still swayed. While the idea of a meal sounded amazing, my stomach might not agree. Nauseated and rumbling, I felt pretty sure I’d puke up whatever I sent down. “Not just yet,” I said.

“Dad,” she said. “What do you think they’ll do with us once we get there?”

“It’ll be fine,” I said. The question filled my mind. I’d worried about what might be waiting for us, too. Might just be the thought of a camp designed to detain people that got to me most. We’d done nothing wrong, except survive. We weren’t prisoners, or detainees. It still felt that way.

Crystal Sutton looked down at my daughter, then up at me. Smiled. I looked away. Wasn’t in the mood for games. The smile meant shit. I was a liability to them.

I found Chatterton, locked my stare on his. Our eyes narrowed. Don’t think it was me being all paranoid. There was a question to his expression. Saw it clearly. Did he suspect I’d been awake and whether I’d heard everything said?

It was something. Might as well be that.

Let him wonder.

“Let’s go over here,” I said, and never looked away from Chatterton. Using my hands and arms to guide my people, yes, I thought it . . . my people . . . to one side of the vessel where there were places for us to sit.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Allison said.

“Ah, yeah. What was that? What was that all about?” Dave held onto Sues’ hand. I don’t think I’ve seen him not touching her since the Humvee rescued us. Never heard them talk, but they were always touching.

Chatterton, Sutton and Dentino were close. The boat was big, but not so big we could be alone. Nevertheless, with the waves, and the crewmen working, I didn’t think they could overhear us if I decided to retell what I’d heard. Question was, did I talk in front of the kids, or wait?

Waiting might not be an option, though. Opportunities alone might become less and less frequent. Having them five or six feet away might be the most privacy we’d get to experience for who knows how long.

I also had to think about Chatterton and about what he’d said.

My kids. They made me, us, a liability.

“We’re family now,” I said. They leaned closer. Maybe it was the tone of my voice, or a look on my face. I felt it the moment I spoke. It was a This Is The Shit talk. We all knew it. “Us. The six of us are family now and we need to watch each other’s backs. Okay?”

“Are you going to tell us what happened? What do you know that we don’t?” Dave grit his teeth. I liked it. Guy was more like me than I’d thought when we first met. Answers. Truth. It’s what he sought, too. No one had time for bullshit. Not anymore.

“When we were below deck, I woke up. I heard the other three talking.”

“What did they say?” Allison said.

I told them everything.

Chapter Eight

Dentino collapsed. He just, plop, went down.

“Sergeant, Sergeant!” Marfione said, and then ran toward Dentino.

The woman who had bandaged his arm yelled, “Don’t touch him!”

“But Erway…”

“Stand back,” she said. She put a hand on Marf’s chest and pushed. “Back.”

Erway didn’t have a medical bag this time, but wore a patch on her uniform. It identified her as a Coast Guard paramedic. “Captain? Captain Keel, have the civilians go back below.”

I didn’t like being ushered away. We were not cattle, so no one was herding us. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Take your kids and go below,” she said, and stood toe to toe with me, her nose an inch from mine. The authority was there. The threat obvious. I wouldn’t have cared if she’d held a gun to my head. I would take my kids below deck, because I wasn’t sure what might happen next.

Not because I was being ordered.

“Sir,” a crewman said.

“Yeah,” Captain Keel said. He didn’t look to see who called out to him. His eyes were locked on Dentino. His tongue kept licking his lips. Where’s your stupid smile now, eh, Captain?