Judy looked across at the sleeping form of
Zac
. She was hypnotised by the easy rhythm of his seemingly untroubled sleep. The baby, as always, was near him within easy reach and snuggled
cozily
in a box, which was the closest the little traveller had to a crib. Holly slept fitfully on his other side.
Judy sighed as she thought about the day’s events. They had gotten into an easy rhythm and left
Orlando
behind without a single encounter. Finding reliable transportation proved to be amusing, yet also pitiful. Some ingenious person harnessed a one-eyed horse to one of those ridiculously tiny Smart Cars. The poor beast of burden looked lean and near to dehydration. Judy surmised from this that the owner had been missing for several days. Then she wondered why the zombies never seemed to bother the animals?
Each day since finding the makeshift carriage, they did in excess of forty kilometres in their journey along the Florida Turnpike. At least, it used to be the Turnpike. Now, it barely resembled a gravel road. The wide concrete lanes succumbed to an onslaught of native vegetation. Angry patches of saw grass and squatty palms caused Judy to muse how much this land must now resemble the days of the first Spanish explorers. Judy tried to get Holly to pretend she was a Conquistador as they rode inside the car.
Zac
led the horse along, outside and in front of them. Judy also credited
Zac’s
unbelievable stamina to the overgrowth of trees. She guessed the surplus oxygen strengthened all of their lungs.
They settled down each night shortly before dusk. Tonight they were in the back room of an old gas station.
They had barricaded the door in case any random walker came wandering in. The weather held fine and Judy felt as safe as possible with her companions.
Earlier that day, they had come across a hand-painted sign offering sanctuary for travellers. It made promises of food, shelter and water. Luckily, Judy thought, zombies can’t read. She guessed they had to be drawing near to Miami. The thought of a safe place and other people taunted her sense of security at this lonely highway pit stop.
In the morning, Judy looked for any more of the hand-written signs. The one from yesterday had been weather worn and looked to be a couple years old. She did not know if she wanted to find other people or not. What comforts
might a secure community
truly offer her, Judy wondered.
As the grandiose high-rise hotels of Miami Beach and the surrounding cities became visible on the horizon, Judy watched for more signs. She saw plenty of billboards beckoning her to purchase products that no longer existed. She saw the occasional “End is
Near
” graffiti and long-silent pleas for help painted on windows of now empty storefronts. Judy tried to talk to Holly about different advertisements they saw. The girl’s silence did not indicate whether she remembered that previous life. The slick, bright
colors
used to be Judy’s game. She had once been responsible for convincing people to get the things they did not need.
That memory collided with a sight she did not want to see. An EZ-Thin billboard loomed over them at the edge of the city. It had been scorched, most likely in the riots of the final days. Judy’s stomach churned. EZ-Thin diet pills had been her baby. She conceived the whole “New
You
” campaign that got people hooked.
In her mind, she caused the end of the world. That’s a lot of guilt for one person to bear, she chided herself. Besides,
Bueller
is the one who faked the trials and pushed the pills to market.
“What’s that?” asked
Zac
. He interrupted her painful recollections.
A smaller, hand-made sign had been attached to the pole holding the EZ-Thin billboard. Judy read the words, fighting back an unexpected hopefulness.
We are still here!
The Ocean Sapphire Hotel
across
from
Lummus
Park
Don’t take MacArthur Causeway!
This piece of tattered cardboard did not look nearly as old as the first sign. Judy mused how these survivors chose this post for hanging their invitation.
“What do you think?” asked
Zac
. He looked like he already made up his mind.
“How far is it?” asked Judy.
Zac
looked at their surroundings. He must have had a good memory or an innate sense of direction. He said, “We are close to Pompano Beach, so I guess maybe another forty miles if we stay close to the Interstate. Or we could go down through the city.”
Judy did not know how she felt about that second suggestion. They had been lucky so far, but in her travels she found that zombies had their own little pockets in the cities.
“If we could make our way out to the shore, we could follow the A1A the rest of the way. Then we would only have to watch one side. One side would be protected by the ocean,”
Zac
continued.
Judy hesitated.
Zac
pressed her, “If Matthew came this way with
Liz,
I think he would have went for other survivors. I’m going to look for her there.”
Judy almost forgot about Liz. She almost forgot about
Zac’s
entire motivation. If Liz still lived, he would most likely die trying to find her. For a minute, Judy got turned around in her head. Something about
Zac
made her want to be only with him and the kids. For a minute, she hoped they were the only ones left on the planet. Judy had gone from being defiantly independent to completely dependent since meeting this boy. He was still a boy as far as she was concerned.
“Alright,” said Judy. “Let’s go to the beach.”
A Day at the Beach
Cutting through Fort Lauderdale took longer than
Zac
had hoped. Their horse stepped in a pothole and broke its leg. The accident almost overturned their car as well.
Zac
shot the horse as much out of anger as mercy.
The echo of the single gunshot caught the attention of one walker. The former surfer still wore his wetsuit, although the rubber sleeves and legs had been shredded over the years. He hobbled toward them while they gathered their things from the now useless Smart Car. When the
undead
dude came close enough,
Zac
wrenched free a rusted stop sign. He swung it like an axe, cutting the hungry creature’s head in half from the top of its left ear to the bottom of its right ear. The top of its skull fell to the ground with a splat.
Zac’s
mind raced back what felt like a thousand years to a distinct memory. The skull
splatted
the same way a pat of butter once did when it hit the tile of his old kitchen. One glob stuck to the ground, unmoving. Before the body collapsed, a tangle of seaweed spilled out of its gaping mouth.
Zac
decided that the weather ravaged Dania Beach would be the best place to spend the night. He explained to Judy that they still had twenty or twenty-five miles to go and it would take longer on foot. At least it was a straight shot, now in sight of the ocean. When they settled down for the night,
Zac
thought about the surfing zombie. He wondered why it would have been eating seaweed. Did zombies have memories of their past lives, he wondered. Why else would that creature have been in the water?
Bright sun skipping across the ocean woke
Zac
before he was ready. He did not regret it when he spotted a flock of oversized terns, hopping and pecking closer to their shelter with each breeze. From the looks of these birds, one could easily carry away his baby boy and
Zac
would not allow that. Risking the attention of any scavenging
undead
,
Zac
shooed the birds away. It surprised him that they flew off with such little fuss.
Half a day’s walk brought them to the once famous Art Deco district of Miami Beach. The pastel
colors
faded over the years with no one to touch up the paint. Broken windows hinted at the damage caused by at least one hurricane in the last five years. Somewhere along this row of high priced, gaudy buildings stood the Ocean Sapphire. At one point, this luxury hotel had become a home for a group of survivors.
Zac
suspected it was probably empty now. Between the giant birds and indefensible weather, who in their right mind would want to live on the beach?
Moira turned over and felt his warm body against hers. She idly stroked his long lustrous hair and sighed with deep satisfaction. He was perfect in every way. His teachings were important to her and to their small community as a whole. That is why she did not mind sharing him. She’d been a scared young woman before she had come across this sanctuary. Gavin and his teachings had made sense to her and she had watched their little band grow until they now numbered almost one hundred people. They included families, singles and children of all ages. Everyone shared a common goal.
Survival.
The Ocean Sapphire Hotel offered more than that. It offered a new start in this new world, a chance to be reborn as a Sapphire Child. As their father, Gavin controlled their security, food and plentiful water. He orchestrated the groups of people to scavenge and find more supplies. Under his watch, everyone helped one another. The sea provided food galore and as Gavin had always said, the lord would provide.
Gavin taught them all the new way, the new religion of love and be loved. Everyone was equal. Gavin shared his love with all of the women, married or not. His new way would insure their survival.
Oh, there had been trouble makers, but that is why they had The Pool. There could be no room for those that did not embrace the new way. Those that would not conform went to The Pool. Those that did not share received no blessings. How could people not agree with their simple ethos? How could they not love and be loved when outside of Sanctuary in the world at large there was only pain, hurt and fear?
Moira left Gavin in bed. She watched him for a moment, snuggling one of the new women. Moira did not know the new one’s name, but she knew the welcoming ritual and was glad to be a part of this one. It would be another two weeks before she would see Gavin’s bed again.
Now Moira looked out over the balcony. She liked how the sun seemed to shine through the Ocean Sapphire. The bluish shadow danced on the afternoon waves. Inside the hotel, they no longer knew fear. So, Moira did not panic at the sight of the figures ambling down the street, coming straight for their Sanctuary.
“Gavin,” she called. “Gavin, wake up.
More newcomers.
And they have children.”
Gavin pulled himself to a sitting position. Sweat glistened off his sculpted chest from their recent activities. This excited the still aching, but yearning, parts of Moira’s body. She grabbed a robe for Gavin and then one to cover her own nakedness.
By the time she followed him down the three flights of stairs, some of the other Sapphire Children had cleared the barricade to allow in the visitors. The four of them looked to have been travelling for some time. Moira suspected Gavin would put the curly haired boy to work on one of the scavenger teams. The slightly older woman looked fit. She had healthy curves that made Moira wish she could partake of this one’s welcoming ritual. The girl child looked frightened and a mess. She could not be quite old enough to serve Gavin’s special needs, but it would only be a year or two more. The baby could have been a match for the boy. He had the same curly hair and piercing eyes of his father.
“Welcome to the Ocean Sapphire,” Gavin said eloquently. Moira knew him only to be eloquent. He had no other way. Gavin continued, “You have been out in that world too long. Here you will find peace and rest.”