Defense With The BoomStick

(disclaimer: This post is an ongoing story set in a world where zombies have taken over and people are fighting to survive anyway they can. This is my story of survival.)

Year 6. Week 46.

Currently our team is floating offshore of Port Canaveral.

We have about three boats of varying sizes sitting out here because the shoreline is a bit too hot to be on with the amount of zombies roaming about. Even getting back to the boats and far enough out before all of us were in the loving arms and mouths of zombies was a close call.

At first everything was going smoothly. One of the boats stayed out a bit on the port to keep an eye on the shoreline while the other two boats went into the docks. There were a few other boats still moored there giving us some spots to search for supplies before heading in further to the buildings. Going over those boats didn’t take long and we did find a good bit of fishing supplies and other gear on a few of the boats that was transferred over to our boats. Then things went south.

It’s all in a day’s work running for your life from zombies; honestly a day isn’t interesting if we aren’t chased.

Of course the zombies waited for us to be inside the building before striking. It was while half were in the back checking out the kitchen and storage for any dry foods that could have survived after all these years while the other half was salvaging anything from the front of the restaurant and to keep watch. It wasn’t them that warned us, but the team sitting out on the water that saw the horde coming our way.

It was another one of those close calls zombie encounters you never want to happen again. Any of the more opportunistic ones were sniped from our team covering us as we pounded down the dock towards the boats. The zombie horde made it to about fifteen feet away from us standing on the dock with a look in their eyes I don’t believe I have ever seen before. It was not the usual blank wide-eyed stare you get when facing down a zombie, but one that looked focused, driven and tuned into a goal of eating us alive. Thankfully none of them were radioactive zombies, but even so these regular ones definitely had a pep in their step. Even after we all go into the boats and shoved off to sit in the middle of the port the zombies weren’t doing anything dumb like falling in the water, but just stood there staring.

Figuring we could do nothing else here, our boats turned out to sea and the zombies followed us down the port. After gunning the engines we could still see them on the shore following. It wasn’t until we headed further out to sea and up north we lost sight of them and them of us. After giving it thirty minutes we turned back south and planned to head further down the coast to Coco Beach. If nothing is seen there we're gonna head down even further, but finding a new marina will become a priority so we have a base of operations to gas up when we head back to Fort Sumter.

Busy days ahead as usual.