Induction

Seth stood and addressed the group. “We should think about moving soon. We’re running low on potable water again and if Sanibel turns out to be a bust, we’ll need to make a supply run. I’d rather not have to do both. So, Lowell and I were talking about the best strategy to go about reconing the island. We both agree that our best bet is for him to scout first in the helicopter.”

Adam raised his hand like a student. “Um, have you forgotten the bird is currently in the middle of a horde of those things? How do you propose we get to it and get it in the air without attracting their attention?” The group shared his sentiment.

“Well, we talked about that. It will require all of us to make it happen. Lowell and I will get to the bird. The rest of you will need to create a distraction. They don’t want the helicopter; they want us. So we give them what they want.”

The group erupted in argument.

“Hold your horses; I wasn’t suggesting we sacrifice anyone for the cause. Though, if I were, I would have voted on the dog. She pissed on the bathroom floor again.” His quip lightened the mood a bit and we laughed. I knew he was joking. I instinctively turned to look at Daphne, who was currently squatting in the corner of the cabin. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t totally joking. Jake followed my gaze and rolled his eyes at the dog. I really needed to invest some time in potty training her a little better.

“We’ve got the Jet Ski, and cigarette boat, along with the fishing boat we found on the supply run. Nancy should stay back with Gabby. Then the rest of you can go in two waves. Pull up close to the group and get their attention. We know sound and the sight of a warm meal attracts them. So, we lead them away from the area and down the river. Once the first wave is gone, the second group can make an attempt to lead the rest away. Meanwhile, Lowell and I will take the fishing boat in the other direction and double back on foot and come up behind the group.”

Jake considered his plan for a minute. “That’s a lot of speculation. We don’t know if it’s clear beyond the area. What if you run into another group?”

“Then we either make a stand, or hightail it back to the water. Anyone else have a better idea?”

I suggested we just pull up anchor and go as a group but was shot down. The group didn’t want to risk wasting fuel or time in the event Mel’s story had been a lie.

* * *

Jake and Meg teamed up for round one. Jake drove the Jet Ski over to the sea wall, making sure not to get close enough to become lunch. Meg hooted and hollered, shouting obscenities at the rotted pieces of meat. Like we saw as Finn rowed away, those closest to the edge were pushed off by their brethren trying to get a front row seat at the meal trough. While they were distracted, Seth and Lowell set off in the fishing boat. When we could no longer see the boat, Jake started to slowly steer the watercraft away from the area.

“I can’t believe this is actually working,” marveled Adam. He was right. At least half the crowd peeled off and followed after them. It was slow going, but that just meant Seth would have enough time to find a zombie-free zone and start coming around the back.

The sound of the Jet Ski was barely audible at this distance and it looked like they had gotten all the attention they were going to. Round two: Adam, Will, Dale, and I, loaded up into the boat and started banging pans and singing random songs, badly I might add. Dale surprised us all by belting out a little ditty. I think it was “Oops, I Did it Again.”

“Hey, Dale, tell me you are not singing Britney Spears.” I was a little ashamed myself for being able to identify the song, seeing as I was more of a heavy metal fan. I could recall numerous drunken trysts in the mosh pit in my day.

Blushing bright red, he looked like a little kid. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“Hell, keep going. If we can’t get them all to follow us, maybe the rest will commit zombiecide from the torture. That’s some psychological torture.” We kept up our taunting and drifted lazily toward the Jet Ski. We had succeeded in garnering attention from all but a small handful. I hoped they could get to the helicopter while the remaining zombies were facing our direction. This meant staying in their line of sight so they wouldn’t begin to wander off.

I started to think Dale wasn’t quite right in the head. He stopped singing Britney and went into the Cadence rendition of Sam Cooke’s “Chain Gang.” Unzipping his pants, he whipped out his pecker and actually attempted to urinate on the crowd. Don’t ask me how the hell he thought his stream would reach them. While his stream was nowhere near forceful enough to hit the zombies, the wind caught it. I was the lucky one, for I was standing to his left and the wind blew to the right. Will on the other hand, was not so lucky. The wind misted him in urine and he jumped to the other side of the boat like he was avoiding a land mine.

“Jesus Christ, Dale. You pissed on me!”