Free Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales by Valerie Lioudis, Kristopher Lioudis

his megalomania. One evening he called me to his headquarters to hear the story of his ill-fated fishing trip. Walking into the office was like being called to the king’s throne room. There was an expectation that you would act as if you were standing before the second coming. His blue eyes held a hint of madness, but his overall demeanor was that of someone who was larger than life. His grandness grew every day as his kingdom expanded. The destruction of the society we had all known had brought Vincent into a power that he seemed destined to hold.
    “You sent for me?” I shyly mumbled from across the room.
    “Jessica, yes, I wanted to have you write something for me. I need to get this out while the memories are fresh. Everyday a small detail disappears and I feel they are all needed to tell the story with the completeness that it deserves.”
    I sat down opposite from him at the large oak desk that served as him throne. Whatever he was going to tell was sure to be filled with the twists and bias of a man who believes his greatness is preordained. I fidgeted with the pencil I held as I prepared myself mentally for the lies I was about to be told. The notebook on my lap felt like a traitor, but it was I who was the liar, weaving this man’s story.
    “We were having one of the best trips of my life when the call came in over the radio. Ships were in distress everywhere. There was chaos out there, and the coast guard was unable to deal with the enormity of the situation. I couldn’t see what was happening with just a call over the radio. I saw dollar signs. I saw myself riding a new Harley after raking in an insane amount of cash for the catch we had pulled in. We had a crew meeting and Cap decided that we would finish our allotted days and then turn back towards shore. Our satellite phone had been broken by some shitbag deck hand a few trips back and Cap never got around to getting a replacement. We only had the radio, no news from land so we couldn’t know how bad things had gotten. Some of the crew wanted to turn back, felt like there was a bad omen in the air. I voted with Cap, and our vote ruled out return.
    Late that night when I was in the wheelhouse Earl comes up to tell me that Mike is sick. We were only on our second night, and I wasn’t turning around because one of the guys had gotten a little green. Earl suggested that I give the kid the night off. It was fine by me, but he would have to clear it with the other two guys on deck. One guy leaves and everybody else has to work that much harder. No one had a problem with it. They saw how sick the kid was, and didn’t want to catch whatever he had. Problem with being on a boat with someone who is sick are the tight quarters.
    Mike went to bed that night and died. Now that doesn’t seem so strange, but then it was a tragedy. Cap wanted us to turn back and take him to his fiancé. She was going to ask what happened, and we weren’t going to have any answers. We left him in his bunk as we hauled ass home. It was an 8 hour trip back in, and we made it 6 when Mike woke up. We hadn’t shut the door to his bunk, and he had stumbled into the galley. There he got a jump on Roger. He killed Roger. Ate a good amount of him before Tim walked in on it. Tim started screaming and Mike got a bite out of him before shock wore off and his feet were able to work again. He ran out of there and into the wheelhouse.
    Lou and Anthony were sitting on the deck bullshitting and smoking when Tim ran past them. They followed Tim, Anthony grabbing the first aid kit on his way. No one believes Tim’s story about Mike reanimating and eating Roger. Even with the large bite on his shoulder we all dismissed it as a psychiatric break due to the stress of Mike’s sudden death. The fact that the Mike zombie wasn’t beating down our doors to eat our brains also led us to think he had lost his mind. We didn’t know that zombies couldn’t climb ladders. The galley was down one wet, swaying