TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | NOV 2018 29
choosers,” Cheryl answers.
“You want us to get you a drum so you can cut holes in it?” Rudy laughs.
“Duh!” she laughs. “We’ll layer sand, gravel, oyster shells, and charcoal
to filter the water and we’ll cut a hole in the bottom to let the fresh, clean
water drain out.”
“I think I know where we can get one of those. I think I saw one tied to a
broken piece of dock near our old camp…” Rudy muses.
“I know exactly where that is,” Tony says. “You’ll have it before the end
of the afternoon.”
It doesn’t take long for Rudy, Johnny, and Tony to retrieve their
belongings from the old camp. They find the blue drum easily, load
it onto the boat with the rest of their haul, and begin to head back
toward camp. Near the end of the ride Rudy points behind the boat
and asks the others, “You see that in the water?”
“See what?” Tony says from the wheel, looking over his shoulder.
“It looks like a school of fish is playing just beneath the surface of the
water behind the boat,” Johnny answers.
“Behind the boat? If it was a school of fish, you wouldn’t see them in our
wake. You’d see them in front of the boat swimming away from us. I’ll mark
this on the GPS just in case.”
“To the left here, Tony,” Johnny says. “That’s our camp.”
“Crap! Almost missed the cut! I was looking at the water churning
behind us and not what was in front of us. It almost looked like that school
of… whatever they were… was following us.”
“It’s all good brother. You got us home safe anyway,” Johnny smiles.
Doug, Brian, and Lisa secured some 7.62mm bullets, a .22 rifle
with ammo, and some canned food from the downstairs neighbor’s
house. They loaded up into Jay’s boat after sneaking down Inlet to the
beach, avoiding any undead that were in their path. They beached the
boat on the Wassaw Sound side of Little Tybee not far from the tree
camp and set their feet on land.
“Okay,” Brian begins. “That other camp has got to be through the
woods this way. I saw a boat heading into the cut about 500 yards from
here and I’ve seen smoke coming from that area.”
“Why don’t we just go into the cut where you saw the boat and the fire?”
Lisa asks.
“What if they aren’t too friendly, girl?” Brian responds.
“We pretty much know everyone who camps out here and lives on
Tybee,” Doug says. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“What if they’re not from Tybee? What if they’re from Wilmington
Island?” Brian asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Just don’t do anything stupid, okay Brian?” Doug says pointedly and
starts walking.
The group walks through the woods for about ten minutes when
Doug stops. “You see that?” he whispers.
“What?” Brian asks, and looks around.
“The smoke. It looks like there’s a campfire ahead.”
“I don’t see it, but I can smell it,” Lisa says.
“Okay, let’s get closer, but quietly,” Brian says.
Doug rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Let’s go, then.”
The campfire is smoldering about twenty yards in front of them.
When they approach Brian begins to whisper again, “Dude, I don’t see
any tents or anything. It’s like they just packed up and left this fire to die.”
“What if this fire is just a decoy? That’s actually pretty smart. It would
distract zombies and people…” Doug muses.
“Are you saying that someone is trying to lure people here?” Brian asks.
“No dummy. I’m saying that if someone focuses on this fire, they’re not
focused on where these people are. They could be watching us right now,”
Doug replies.
Brian checks the magazine on the SKS. He pulls the bolt back until
he can make sure there is a bullet chambered.
“What are you doing, Brian?” Doug asks and gives him a warning
look.
“If someone is watching us I want to be ready.”
Lisa points ahead of them, “Over there. Past the fire. Don’t you see the
palmetto branches moving?”
“It almost looks like a bunch of hogs moving through the brush,” Doug
says.
Brian fires his gun in the direction of the movement. CRACK!
“What the hell are you doing?!” Doug asks, angry.
“If it was a hog, that’s dinner!”
“Put the gun down. If there is someone watching us, they’re going to
assume we’re hostile now. That even could have been them. Did you think
about that?” Doug snaps.
“We can see you!” a voice shouts from the trees. “Put your guns down!”
“Screw you, man!” Brian shouts back and scans the tree line.
The bark on a tree to the left of Lisa’s head explodes. She shouts
out in surprise but is drowned out by the voice in the trees almost
immediately.
“GET OUT OF HERE. THEY’RE COMING!” it shouts.
“Who’s coming?” Brian asks the caller, still trying to locate the
source of the voice.
“THE ZEEKS!” the voice shouts in answer.
“Time to get going,” Doug says and turns to leave, putting a hand
out to guide Lisa along with him.
“Screw them, man!” Brian says, pissed. “They almost hit Lisa.”
“I think that was a warning shot,” Doug says. “They have the high
ground.”
“There is no high ground, we’re on a flat island idiot!” Brian snaps.
“Up there dude,” Doug says and points at a platform above them.
“They’re in the trees. It’s time to get out of here.”
“I’ll be damned. That is perfect! We need that treehouse!” Brian says
while he admires the platform he is just now noticing.
“Look!” Lisa says, and points toward the fire, pulling Brian’s
attention back to ground level. A dozen or more zombies are
lumbering toward the sound of rifle fire. Brian fires four rounds into
the group of zeeks and one falls.
“You’re wasting your bullets, man. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Doug
says, urging Lisa forward.
“You’re right, dude. But screw these people. They tried to kill Lisa. I’m
coming back to take this camp.”
To be continued…