Fight the Tide (15 page)

He knew what it was like to be a scared little queer kid, and God, what was it going to be like for Jacob in this new world? Maybe it would be easier since sexuality was the last thing people should be worrying about when surviving was a struggle. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be.

Watching him now, nothing seemed easy for Jacob. A zit on his chin was ready to blow, and he was all angles and sharp edges, hunched in on himself. Lilly was telling a story about trying to catch a fish, and Parker thought about being eight years old, and how his biggest problems were not being allowed to have the latest violent video game and whether Jessica would be able to come on a bike ride to the park with the new jungle gym that was across a major road.

Jessica, with her easy laugh and sly sense of humor, her fashion tips and advice about boys. She was in New York and probably dead, or infected. Shuddering at the thought of those kind eyes bulging, Parker picked up his mug of coffee and gulped.

“Chocolate chip pancakes are served.” Craig climbed out of the hatch, brandishing a stacked plate with a flourish. He’d borrowed the electric shaver and removed his beard, shaving his head close too. “Try to go easy on the syrup.” He nudged Jacob playfully. “That means you, buddy.”

“Whatever,” Jacob mumbled, his head still down.

Craig blinked and shared a glance with Abby, who shrugged. He said, “Everyone tuck in. I’ll be back with more.”

Closing his eyes, Parker savored the warm bits of melted chocolate chips, moaning softly and licking at a smear caught on his lower lip. When he opened his eyes, he found Jacob staring with wide eyes, his knife and fork poised over his plate. Parker smiled awkwardly. “Um, I love chocolate. I mean, who doesn’t, right?”

Blushing right to his ears, Jacob nodded in a jerk and ducked his head, shoving a bite into his mouth.

Parker happily took another pancake when Craig returned and squeezed in next to Abby at the table. Motioning with his fork to Craig’s chin, Parker asked, “Where’d you get the scar? It looks old.”

Craig ran his hand over the groove in his chin, about an inch long. “Ah, yes. It’s a pretty rough story. Don’t know if it’s appropriate for young ears.” Jacob scowled into his pancakes, and Lilly giggled. “Well, I guess you guys are old enough to hear it.” He lowered his voice to a confessional tone, and despite himself, Parker leaned in. “I was a real bruiser as a kid. I’d get myself into all kinds of trouble.”

Jacob blurted, “Really?” He flushed as soon as he asked, dropping his head again.

“Oh yeah.” Craig whistled softly and rubbed his chin. “The day I got this, I was in the fight of my life.”

Craig looked so serious all of a sudden that Parker wasn’t sure it was a joke anymore. “Did you, like, get knifed or something?”

“You could say that. Sliced right open with cold steel.”

Abby shook her head solemnly. “That soda machine really had it in for you.”

“It did!” Craig objected indignantly. “Son of a gun came out of nowhere!”

“When you tripped into it, Dad.” Lilly grinned, clearly having heard this tale before. “In a bowling alley. Real tough.”

“Listen, young lady. The Rolling Pins and Gutter Sharks meant business. I needed stitches after I landed on the edge of that soda machine, but I still finished my last frame. Our pride and the Boise Lucky Lanes’ under-thirteen championship was on the line, and we were going home champions.”

Even Jacob smiled as they all laughed. Beside Parker, Adam’s shoulders shook. He had a drop of syrup at the corner of his mouth, and Parker reached up to swipe it clean with his finger. When he went back to his pancakes and Craig launched into another bowling story, he realized Jacob was watching with wide eyes.

Before Parker could smile at him and try to make up for being a dick earlier, Jacob took his plate and mumbled something about starting the dishes. Parker sighed to himself. He’d have to try to talk to the kid later. Maybe he could get him alone while Adam and Craig were gone…

Thoughts of Shorty and his friends whipped through him without warning, and he didn’t realize he was jiggling his leg until Adam pressed his palm against his knee gently, warm on the bare skin below his shorts.

Parker gave him a little smile and dipped a square of pancake into syrup. The sun was out, and breakfast was sweet on his tongue. He was with good people. The past was done and the future was probably fucked. There was nothing else to do but focus on the present.

*

“Sorry Jacob’s being
surly. Not sure what’s gotten into him today,” Abby said as she climbed the ladder on the tall pier, a gun tucked into the waistband of her capris below her purple tank top.

“No prob.” Parker finished hitching
Saltwater
to a post and followed up the ladder, trying to avoid barnacles crusted on the old wood, his new machete in one hand. “Teenagers, right?”

Abby laughed. “You say that like you’re not one yourself.”

“Guess I don’t feel much like one anymore.” He stepped up and stretched. “Oh man, you’re right—feels good to be on solid ground. Well, wood.”

“Yeah, I just need a break from all that swaying. At least I’m not vomiting over the side all the time like I was when we first got the boat. Got my sea legs, I guess.” She raised a hand to shield her eyes, peering back at where
Bella
was anchored in the harbor about fifty feet away.

Jacob and Lilly were at the table by the stern under the canvas shade Parker had taken out of storage, its posts snapping easily into answering brackets on the deck.
Saltwater
didn’t have any shade, and as the morning went on, the unblinking sun was getting hotter. He was tempted to strip off his cargo shorts and tee and dive into the water. Maybe later when Adam and Craig were back.

The kids’ heads bent over the books they were reading. Abby and Craig were trying to institute a school schedule, which Parker understood, even if he thought it was probably not going to hold. Things had stabilized as they sailed down the coast, and they’d been lucky not to see many creepers on shore, and no other survivors for days.

He scanned the trees beyond the pier and the raised boardwalk, along with a marina parking lot with a few abandoned cars still gleaming under the sun. He hoped it would stick. It felt too quiet, but they were in a fairly rural area of the coast.

In the distance, smoke curled into the air, a haze that could almost be clouds but for the gray, toxic tinge. They couldn’t smell it here on the shore, the wind coming in salty and fresh from the ocean. For the moment, they could pretend it wasn’t there, and the sky was nothing but clear and blue.

Craig and Adam had taken
Bella
’s dinghy to shore, where it waited on the sand. They’d already scavenged the marina and brought back anything worthwhile before going farther afield. Parker surveyed the sea beyond the harbor, watching for movement before turning back to the land. He did this little dance automatically now. Always watching. He switched his machete from one hand to the other and back again.

“Jacob is…quiet. Has he always been?” he asked.

“Mostly. Especially after his dad left. Not like this, though.”

“Right. Did he have a lot of friends? Um, a girlfriend?”
Super subtle, dude.

Abby smiled softly. “No. And I don’t think he wants one.”

“Oh. Right, okay. Um…” God, he sucked at this.

She picked up some broken shells from the pier, probably left there by birds, and started tossing them into the water:
plop, plop, plop.
“I’ve been dropping hints for a while. Talking about LGBT rights and marriage equality, and how important it is.” Her face creased. “Is there even a Supreme Court anymore? I guess not. People are free to be whoever they want now. To love who they want. One upside.”

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?” He stared at the gleaming cars in the distance. “When you guys tried for Washington…”

She rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “Couldn’t even get close. It was decimated.” After a few moments, she said, “I went on the radio last night, looking for reports. Heard someone from Germany. My high school German’s rusty, but it didn’t sound good.”

“If you hear anything from England… Good or bad, I want to know.”

“I’ll tell you. I promise.” She reached out and squeezed his elbow. “Anyway, I’m hoping being around you and Adam will help Jacob. I must be doing something wrong, because he just stays clammed up.”

“No, you’re not doing anything wrong. He’ll say something when he’s ready. It can be hard, saying it out loud. Especially at first.”

She nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” Her cheeks puffed as she blew out a long breath. “It’s hard, this parenting thing.”

“Jesus, I can only imagine.” He did another turn, watching closely for movement in any direction.

“I’ve always worried about what kind of world we’re leaving our kids, and now look at us. I can barely sleep thinking about it.”

“Yeah. I’m trying to focus on the present. Enjoy the little things and all that shit.”

Smiling, Abby rolled her shoulders. “You’re right. Okay, I’m going to focus on the vitamin D I’m getting, and the fact that I can stretch my legs.” She walked down to the middle of the pier. “This is good shit,” she called back.

Parker laughed, and as a set of waves washed in, the salt in the air intensified wetly. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling all the way to his toes. The tide strangely rumbled as it receded, and he could feel it shake along the pier. The sun beamed down, white light beyond his eyelids, bright and perfect on his cheeks. The machete handle was solid in his palm, a reassuring weight. Under his bare feet, the worn wood of the pier was hot.

Sighing, Parker opened his eyes, and the world tilted violently.

For a heartbeat he stood frozen, not comprehending the sight of creepers swarming onto the pier with jerky motions, their limbs stiff and wrong but so fast. Then Abby’s scream tore through the briny air, gulls shrieking with her as she raced toward Parker.

Parker’s feet were moving, and his brain caught up with his eyes, realizing the creepers had somehow come from below. They were rising up from under the boardwalk, and Abby ran, shooting blindly behind her. The awful, wild hum they made iced Parker’s spine, their bulging eyes stark and sickening in the light of day.

He was still fifteen feet away when he knew Abby wasn’t fast enough. No one but Adam could have been, and she went down in a sprawl, emptying her gun into the infected grasping at her sneakers. Parker skidded to a stop, digging in his bare toes as he hacked at the creepers and hauled Abby up. They managed to slow the handful of infected at the front of the pack, and the boat wasn’t too far.

We can make it.

The pier suddenly seemed a mile longer than before, the chattering filling Parker’s ears. Above it screams rose, and Parker thought maybe they were his own until he realized it was the kids watching from
Bella
in the middle of the harbor.

He and Abby leapt down onto the boat, pain exploding in Parker’s hip as he struck the deck. She yanked out an assault rifle from where it was tucked away by the wheel, spraying bullets into the infected, holding them back just enough for Parker to hack through the mooring rope and shove off as hard as he could, using every ounce of strength. He turned to start the engine, and a creeper dove at him, all teeth and eyes and fury.

Another round of bullets sent it twisting back, and Abby kicked it overboard. Parker slammed down the throttle and they were away, more infected streaming onto the pier. A couple tumbled off the end.

Heart hammering, choking him, he panted with his mouth open, clutching the machete. He pulled back on the throttle barely in time to avoid crashing into
Bella,
then backed up toward the pier, making sure they were between it and the kids.

He stared into the depths, harsh breathing filling his ears. The creepers splashed around the tall piles of the pier, not getting anywhere, a handful left on top milling around, screeching. “Looks like they still can’t swim. Just our luck they’d learn or something.” He could barely hear his own voice over the rushing in his ears. “Fuck. That was—”

“Close”
shriveled and disintegrated on his tongue as red filled his peripheral vision. He turned to find Abby crumpled on the deck, her blood staining the sun-bleached oak.

Parker slammed to his knees, reaching for her and clamping a hand over her thigh. His mind screamed in denial, but she was bitten. There was no doubt. Her flesh was brutally torn away from her calf and shin, and how she’d run at all, Parker had no fucking idea. But the worst of it was above her knee, where the blood pumped out too fast, flowing between Parker’s useless fingers. Even if she wasn’t infected, she was dead.

“
Jacob
,” Abby croaked, terror written on her face. She was mercifully still herself, at least for the moment. “Love him. Tell him.”

Nodding, Parker pressed down on the wound, knowing the femoral artery was severed, praying into the void that she would bleed out before he had to kill her. At first, he could only manage a garbled word, but he cleared his throat, rasping, “I’ll tell him. And I’ll take care of him. We’ll protect him. I promise.”