We encountered one other vessel drifting on the open water. The chief tried raising them on the radio but there was no answer. Chuck hailed them with a battery-operated bullhorn as we drew closer, but there was still no reply. As the
On the third day, Chief Maxey summoned us all to the flight deck again. Chuck remained in the pilothouse, and Carol and Alicia kept the kids occupied. They'd set up a makeshift classroom in one of the berthing areas. Tran stayed behind in the galley, cleaning up from breakfast. Everyone else onboard mustered on the flight deck after we'd finished eating. We moved slowly, the weight of the dead world bearing down on all our shoulders. Gone was the excitement and enthusiasm we'd had after the last meeting. Only Cliff was still optimistic. It seemed like the worse things got, the more he turned to the Lord. Everyone else was lethargic and depressed. Tony and Mitch needed nicotine. Murphy needed alcohol. The rest of us needed hope. None of them were in supply. We stood around without speaking. There wasn't much to say. We'd survived Baltimore, escaped the zombies and the fires, found sanctuary… and already, three of our number were dead. It felt like it was just a matter of time for the rest of us. There was no safe harbor.
Like the rest of us, Chief Maxey's mood was sullen. He didn't smile or say good morning. Instead, he got right down to business.
"I've decided to set course for an oil drilling operation farther out to sea. It's approximately a two day trip from our present location. I've tried raising them on the radio, but have received no response. That means one of three things. Either the platform isn't there anymore, which I very much doubt, or the crew is no longer onboard, which is a possibility. They could have been evacuated."
"And the third option?" the professor asked.
"The crew are still onboard but unable to respond because they're dead."
"Wonderful," Basil said. "Just what we fucking need-more of those things."
"Regardless, until we reach their location and know for sure, I'm cutting back further on our rations. If we arrive and find that the rig is gone, I'm not sure where to go next. As you all know, the shore party met with disaster and were unable to replenish our supplies. So I want to double our fishing operations. From now until further notice, we'll subsist mainly on what we can pull from the sea."
Joan raised her hand. "But you said it was only a two day trip. Surely we have enough supplies to last us that long."
"Yes." The chief nodded. "But we don't know if we'll find supplies there or not, and our own stores won't last us forever. We're getting low, regardless. So we're sticking with fish for the time being. All other rations will be used to supplement only one meal per day. No coffee or tea or anything that will diminish our water supplies. Nick, make sure Tran is clear on this as well."
"I'll try," Nick said. "I think he understands more English than he speaks."
The chief nodded again. "I hope that the rest of you will be patient and understanding about this."
There was some grumbling among us, but in truth, we didn't have much choice. He was right. On the mainland, we'd each done whatever we'd needed to stay alive on our own. Now, we did the same thing as a group. If the human race was to survive, we had to work as a team. Even if we no longer saw the point and even if we no longer believed.
I couldn't sleep that night. The sheets stuck to me in the heat. Mitch wasn't in his rack and I hadn't seen him since dinner. Malik and Tasha had fallen asleep while reading their comic books. Despite the temperature, they looked cold. Both were curled into balls. I pulled their blankets up over them and turned off the light.
