TYBEE ISLAND
By By Paul Paul Cales Cales & Becca
Continued from the June 2019 Beachcomber.
Catch up @ http://tybeebeachcomber.com/magazine
CHAPTER 24 – MY NAME IS PATCH AND I KNOW THINGS… AND STUFF.
DAY 8
Tony and Doug are sitting in a room that is dimly lit in front of the shortwave
radio.
“Conch Republic, this is Tybee Island. You guys awake? Over,” Tony says,
and leans back in his chair, patiently hoping that whoever is on radio watch
hasn’t fallen asleep or worse, been overrun with zombies.
“Conch Republic, this is Tybee Island. Anyone there? Over,” he repeats.
After a few more moments pass, his palm hits the desk and he exclaims,
“Damn!”
“It’s late, brother,” Doug says with a sigh. “They’ve probably fallen
asleep. It’s not like it’s the actual Navy. It’s just a bunch of guys like us who
found a safe place to hold up.”
“But they said their radio was ALWAYS manned!” Tony says, then pulls
himself back toward the radio. “CONCH REPUBLIC, THIS IS TYBEE ISLAND!
DO YOU COPY? OVER!”
“Yelling isn’t going to help and you’re going to wake up the whole
damned house,” Doug explains to him.
“You’re right,” Tony sighs. “I’m just frustrated. I’ve been waiting for a
moment away from the others to ask the tough questions.”
“I get it. We definitely don’t want to alarm the rest of the group.”
Tony looks away from the radio for the first time since they walked into
the room and toward Doug. “You sure Joey is in the tank scanning for
trouble?”
“He’s got his face plastered to the thermal sights. He’s really digging the
tank.”
“I think he likes it too much. I just hope he follows the rules I’ve laid out
for him and doesn’t mess anything up.”
“I’m sure…” Doug begins, but is cut off by the radio crackling to life.
“This is Conch Republic, come back. Over.”
“Must be an old trucker talking like that,” Doug says.
Tony lets out a quick laugh and squeezes the mic to reply. “You guys
okay? When you didn’t respond I thought the worst.”
“Nah, we’re good,” the man on the other end of the radio says. “I just
went to get some more coffee. The over-night shift sucks. There’s rarely
anything going on. It’s as if the world is dead. HA! I was wondering if I was
going to hear from ya’ll. Patch told me to keep an ear out for you.”
“Morbid asshole,” Tony whispers to Doug.
“I dig this guy’s sense of humor,” Doug chuckles.
26 TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | JULY 2019
ISLAN
“Well you’re a morbid asshole too, Doug,” Tony says, then grabs the mic
again. “Conch Republic, any way we can talk to the guy we spoke with
yesterday?
“You mean Patch? Yeah man. I don’t think he’ll mind at all being woken
up at three in the morning.”
“That would be great,” Tony says. “If he doesn’t want to wake up, we
can always talk to him later. We just needed to contact him when the others
were sleeping. I don’t want them to start freaking out if we hear any more
bad news.”
“No problem. Be right back. Over.”
“I hope we don’t piss this guy off,” Doug says to Tony now that the radio
has fallen silent. “He seems to know what’s going on more than anyone.”
Tony nods in agreement and they both sit in silence waiting for the radio
to come back to life. After about three minutes it does.
“Tybee Island, this is Conch Republic. Patch here. You guys okay?”
“Yeah man. We’re good. I just wanted to pick your brain when the rest of
the house is asleep. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s all good. This isn’t the guy I talked to yesterday is it?” Patch asks.
“No, that was Sarge. My name is Tony.”
“Self-described leader then?”
“Well, we’re more of a democracy here, but I think I have the most
experience. I spent ten years in the Army and about four of the ten deployed
in the Middle East.”
“It seems like everyone we talk to is a vet or a cop. I was a career man
myself,” Patch says. “Spent 25 years in the Navy. So, you’re safe then?”
“I think so. We actually commandeered two M1A1 tanks. They’re
guarding the front and we’ve got a dock to the rear. We’re on a small
peninsula on a small island so it feels like we’re safe.”
“You’re NEVER safe,” Patch emphasizes. “The sooner you realize this,
the better.”
“Understood.”
“The dead can attack you from under water, over land, hell, I even saw
one attack from the sky when he leapt from a five-story condo trying to get
at us.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen some shit here too,” Tony sighs. “Mind if I pick your
brain?”
“Not a problem.”
“So, do these things only attack humans?”
“I haven’t seen them attack anything else. I’ve only seen them eating
humans and dead animals. We ran into a bunch of them in a grocery
store while we were scavenging once. They were all piled up in the meat
department gorging on the packaged meat.”
“That’s interesting,” Doug interjects and Tony nods in agreement before
continuing his conversation with Patch.
“I also noticed that they were very hot, temperature wise,” Tony says into
the mic.
“How do you know that?” Patch asks, sounding concerned. “Were you in
physical contact with them?”
“Yes, but that’s not when I noticed it. I noticed it looking at them through
the thermal sight on the tank. They were much hotter than the noninfected.”
“That makes sense,” Patch says, sounding slightly relieved. “They seem
to get faster and stronger after they’ve eaten. Being so hot takes a lot
of energy. How long has it been since you were in physical contact with
them?”
“A couple days. Why?” Tony says, for the first time noticing the concern
in Patch.
“Because it usually takes a few minutes to a couple hours to start
showing symptoms. You can’t let their sweat, tears, blood, or anything get
into your mouth, eyes, or open cuts on your skin. It’s a death sentence if
/magazine