Resurrection: A Zombie Novel - - (the best motivational books txt) 📗
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The boat was less than twenty feet ahead of him now. He saw it clearly. The others were all on deck now, not just Annie. Kyle and Frank wielded crowbars. Hughes pointed his rifle directly at Parker.
And fired.
Parker saw the barrel flash and heard the crack of the shot at the same instant he felt a bullet pass so near his head that it might have taken off some of his hair. From not four feet behind him, he heard a smack and a gurgle.
“You’re clear!” Hughes shouted. “Get up here! Now!”
Parker reached for the ladder and felt a rip in his shoulder as he overextended. Frank stood there waiting. He reached out his hand. Parker grasped it with his good arm. Frank pulled him up and onto the deck. Parker rolled over and lay on his back, gasping.
He coughed water out of his mouth and his nose and heard another loud crack of Hughes’ rifle. He was safe. He didn’t die. None of them died. Everyone was okay.
But his relief shattered at once when he realized they had nowhere to go.
The storm blew over and brought back the night sky, including a quarter moon. All was not lost. Kyle could see just fine now, and he knew what to do. There was never any chance they could build a new world without setbacks, but everything would be fine. The others would see.
Adjacent to Orcas was another smaller island. He forgot its name, but no matter. Hardly anyone lived there. Just a handful of houses. There certainly wasn’t a town, nor was there ferry service. The few people who lived on the island had to come and go on their own.
So that was the place. Kyle would take his companions there to shelter for a few days until everyone regained their strength and their nerve.
He guided the boat into the passage between Orcas Island and the other one. No one—and no thing—was going to bother them there.
“We can sleep here,” he said and dropped anchor. “We’re a mile from land. Only the open ocean is safer.”
No one objected, not even Parker.
God, the islands were beautiful in the moonlight, like emerald mountains in a liquid pearl sea.
“We can head over to that small island in the morning,” he said.
“Not a fucking chance, Kyle,” Parker said.
Parker was angry. Kyle understood. He understood perfectly. And frankly, he couldn’t blame Parker. He almost died in the water off Eastsound. If Hughes hadn’t shot that thing that was swimming up from behind him, he probably would have died. Kyle would never forget the terror on Parker’s face at that moment.
“You can stay on the boat again if you want,” Kyle said. “We’ll all understand. But you should know that hardly anyone lives on that island. The entire population I think is less than two dozen. It has to be safer than Orcas.”
“You don’t know that,” Hughes said.
“He fucking well doesn’t,” Parker said.
“Guys,” Frank said.
“Okay,” Annie said. “Everybody stay calm.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” Parker said. “Why wouldn’t I be perfectly calm? Kyle’s island of horrors didn’t actually kill me.”
“We’ll sail around the island in the morning and check it out,” Hughes said. “See what we see.”
“Of course,” Kyle said. “But there’s probably nobody on it. The residents would have starved by now if they didn’t go somewhere else.”
“You hear that?” Parker said. “Kyle found us a safe place, but we’ll starve to death if we stay there.”
“All right,” Kyle said, “you know what—”
“We have a week’s worth of food on this boat,” Hughes said. “We won’t starve tomorrow.”
“What do we do when it runs out?” Frank said.
Kyle had a plan, but it was better to wait and fill the others in later. Nobody wanted to hear it right now, especially not Parker. But ultimately it didn’t make a damn bit of difference what Parker wanted. Kyle’s plan was solid. The others would see that.
But he did feel disappointed and chastened. Orcas Island hadn’t worked out, not yet. The place was a mess. A dangerous mess. But his new plan would work out just fine.
It had to.
If Eastsound was infected, what were the odds that the other islands were clear?
The odds were not good. No, they were not good at all. Friday Harbor was out. So how on earth could Annie find someone to fly her to South Carolina?
She couldn’t.
She’d have to drive there. Or walk. That wasn’t going to happen, not by herself. Frodo in The Lord of the Rings had better odds of taking the ring of power to Mordor. And he had a much better reason—
Wait.
Boom. She got it. There might be a way.
If only …
But she could get herself killed, or even all of them killed. So many ways it could go wrong. It would be the biggest risk of her life, but if it worked, it could change everything.
First she’d have to tell them.
God, she’d have to tell them.
They went ashore in the morning. Hughes approved the idea after Kyle sailed around the island’s perimeter. It was but a fraction of the size of Orcas, just two miles long and one mile wide. Nothing stirred on the shore or in the trees. The mere handful of houses visible from the water looked abandoned.
This time they used a small private dock instead of swimming ashore. They had to. Each had only one set of dry clothes. The air temperature outside barely reached fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Six inches of rain must have fallen the previous night. Building a fire from soggy wood wasn’t possible. If they swam in the sea again and couldn’t dry off, hypothermia would kill them just as surely as a pack of those things.
The dock seemed to belong to the owners of an enormous house a few hundred feet up a grassy hill. A trim gravel path wound its way up to the expansive porch. One other boat—a motorboat, not a sailboat—was lashed to the dock. Somebody might still be on the island. They’d have to be careful.
Hughes stepped off first. He brought the rifle and had Frank take the shotgun. The dock sounded hollow under his boots. Kyle followed, then Frank, then Annie, then Parker.
Hughes saw no signs of trouble at or near the house, but it was hard to tell for sure from this distance. “Do we have binoculars in any of those backpacks?”
“I don’t think so,” Frank said.
“Should have got some binoculars.”
They started up the path. Gravel crunched under their boots. Nobody said anything. Parker limped and grimaced and grunted once in a while, but even he didn’t say anything.
The path wound its way a safe distance from a short stretch of cliff about sixty feet above the water before turning again and heading straight to the house.
Whoever built that house had serious money. It looked like a cross between a gigantic log cabin and a small mountain lodge. The roof was pitched to let snow slide off even though snow rarely fell at sea level in the Northwest. The walls were painted the color of wood, the window trim green like the forest. The front porch, held up by fat log pillars, was as big as a small apartment. It would be a nice place to rest up if it checked out.
When they were less than 100 feet away, Hughes raised his right hand and said, “Hold up.” Everyone stopped.
“Hello!” he shouted. “Anyone home?” He somehow expected his voice to
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