Josh shielded his eyes from the hot sun, and saw the same unremarkable view he had seen for about a week now; nothing but blue, rolling waves. He reached down and grabbed a half-full bottle of water, taking a sip. He sat back down onto the bow and let his head hang between his knees while the cruel rays of the summer sun beat on the back of his neck. Josh Martinson had been a marginally successful lawyer before the outbreak happened, and the dead started walking. After having what he would call a good year, he had figured he would treat himself to a gift. He had decided that a cabin cruiser would do well for a present, and put a down payment on it just a few weeks before shit hit the fan. At the time he couldn’t wait to take it out on the water, and had no clue that it would serve both as his salvation and as his prison. Although the days meshed together for him now, and had been since he’d been out here, it felt like just yesterday when he remembered the state of emergency being declared on the air. “The worst thing any of you can do is panic. We suggest packing lightly, taking only what you need. Head north to Santa Cruz, where we have secured a safe zone for all uninfected citizens.” Josh had seen enough horror movies to know that there probably was no safe zone, and this was just a way for the government to keep the potential infected rounded up; therefore more easily dealt with. That had been a week ago, and while he originally thought of the ocean as safety; he now thought of it as slow death. He had run out of fuel several days prior, and was now simply drifting on whichever pattern the waves took him on. His fishing pole, which he had thought of as pure genius at the time, was now rendered useless with no bait to put on it. His water supply was now down to just six bottles, and the cans of soup he brought with him were gone entirely. He hopped back down from the bow and staggered down to the cabin, collapsing into bed. The impact of something big crashing into the boat woke Josh up, and sent him reeling to the floor. He scrambled to his feet and ran up to the deck, unable to see much in the darkness while struggling to maintain his balance with the boat rocking from side to side. The first thing he saw was a black, hulking form next to his boat and he felt a surge of panic rush through him. After a moment it dawned on him that it was an empty rowboat that must have drifted towards him. He looked all around, for even the slightest bit of land or a dock from where it could have washed up from, and saw nothing but darkness. While the days were scorching and spent sick, hungry and hopeless; it was the night that terrified Josh the most. Surrounded by nothing but darkness he felt like he was in a void that rocked from side to side and lurched beneath his feet; unable to see anything around him. Josh tried to shake off the chilling feelings about the night and focus on the task at hand; taking a couple of small steps towards the derelict rowboat, being careful not to slip overboard as he leaned over the railing and tried to get a look at what was in it.
At first he saw nothing, then something glistened a little in the dark. A can of tuna fish; either tuna fish or chicken from the looks of it. He leaned down, careful not to slip as he made a grab for it; nearly wrapping his fingers around it. He cursed under his breath and struggled a little more, being careful as he felt his cruiser lean a little under his weight. He took a deep breath and finally got a hold of it, pulling it back towards him with a sigh of relief…until he felt something sharp and bony encircle his wrist.
Josh panicked, and dropped the can as he felt a sharp pain dig into his wrist, causing him to cry out. He pulled back as hard as he could; falling backwards and feeling the breath knocked out of him as something heavy and slimy fell down on top of him.
The only thing he noticed in his moment of panic was a rancid smell filling his nose; like someone
