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Be sure to check out Part One Here

I crouched behind the break wall along the shore of the lake. The roar from the city was slightly dulled by the distance as the undead staggered down the streets looking for food. I had dispatched several of them on my way toward the rendezvous point, but one woman couldn’t possibly clear out the city. Such things were better left alone.

Just up ahead I gained visual of the Dock Sixteen where my team would no doubt be, the boat still in harbor. It had been almost three hours since the call came. The rest of the team had been scattered across the city from all sides. Had things gone right for them we would all be convening at the dock within moments of each other. With the hordes taking over the city radio silence was in effect to keep us safe. Should anyone not make it to the boat before zero hour, there would be no way of knowing if there were still among the living.

We had a strict rule: the countdown began the moment the call came in, we would have five hours to get to the rendezvous point. Anyone who didn’t make it in that time would be left behind. We all understood that. There can be no going back. The furthest rendezvous point in the Southern Sector was only a three and a half hour hike from any location. The extra two hours was given as a courtesy for uncontrollable circumstances.

I reached the edge of the dock and grabbed the side. It would be imperative that I sound the call, in case anyone was already aboard to avoid friendly fire. A quick high pitched whistle was all they needed to hear. I waited for a response, but none came. I whistled again, just to be sure. When there was nothing, I peered over the top. I had no visual contact, no human nor zombie.

We had chosen the pier because of the vast flatness of the area. With limited trees it would be difficult for an assault to go unseen. I climbed along the edge of the dock, keeping low and wading through the water. I reached the boat and pulled myself aboard. It was a small house boat, only enough room for the seven of us. She rocked gently in the water. The lake was still tonight. It would be a good night for a water escape.

But I was not out of the woods, yet. While the boat is small, a zombie could be aboard. I would need to work quickly. I crept down the stairs into the boat house and whistled a hello. A response came from the stern and finally a familiar face!

It was Ryan Jones, he stood at ease and behind him the two scared faces of Jenny Miller and Melissa Day came into view in the dim moon light.

“Miles,” Ryan greeted in a hushed whisper.

“I was afraid I was the first one,” I answered in the same hushed tone.

“We were downtown when the call came, only took us forty-five to make it here,” he answered. “It’s a mess.”

“Did you make contact with any infected?”

“Negative,” he said. “They were coming from the South. The outbreak occurred just 50 miles South from the city. We had time to get out before the panic began.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Well done. Any information from the rest of the team?”

“Negative,” he shook his head. “I had spoken with Dean only a few hours before the call came. He was on the far Eastern Sector.”

“He should be getting here in the next hour or so if all goes well for him,” I answered.

Just then a whistle was heard outside of the house. I responded and our fearless leader came down the stairs. He was a short man, but he carried himself proudly.

“Jones, Day, Miller, Miles,” he greeted us. “It’s good to see you all here.”

“Yes, sir,” I responded.

“Dean will be here shortly,” he took command. “When he arrives we will all be accounted for. It is time to begin preparations for Phase Two.”

….To Be Continued Here….