A boat sailed steadily along into the open waters of an unforgiving sea. Waves pulled the boat onward, water spilling over the sides. It was a mid-sized fishing boat, meant to carry just a few people and a lot of equipment. The engine sputtered to a stop, conserving gasoline for the long trip ahead. It was an older vessel that groaned in protest of the heavy load it carried; almost double that of its suggested occupancy. It was just after sunset.

Mia carefully stepped over the sprawling limbs of the tired and wounded passengers. She sought out a small open space and staggered towards it; her son growing heavy in her arms. The muscles in her legs and back threatened to give way and she sank into her small spot with a tiny whimper. The stench of blood and body odor turned her stomach. So many people crammed onto such a tiny boat. It was everyone they could find on such short notice.

"How old is your child, dear?" Mia looked to her left, at the woman questioning her. She was an elderly looking woman, pleasant enough, and trying to smile softly behind the grime smudged across her face. It would be alright to talk to her, for now, but don't get too close she warned herself, elderly ladies could be deceiving.

"Evan just turned six. He's a bit small for his age though." Mia wrapped the blanket he was wrapped in tighter around him, protecting him from the salty sea wind.

"My name is Audrey," said the woman, holding out her wrinkled hand.

Mia considered her options quickly. She could be rude and ignore the gesture. She could shake the woman's hand and take her chances. Seemed like a bit of a gamble just for pleasantries. This seemingly benign woman could be harboring the virus, hell; she could even be one of "them," her insides deteriorating as they spoke.

"My name is Mia," she answered, without offering her hand in return. No time like the present to get used to the new world order, touching strangers was a thing of the past. Everything changed once the virus was discovered.

They called it "the Phoenix Flu." It began as a random and very rare mutation of the common flu virus. A few people with nothing more than fevers and runny noses went to bed one night and didn't get up the next morning. It caused a small amount of alarm and autopsies were ordered on the bodies. The autopsies never took place though, because around 24 hours after death, the victims miraculously returned to life.

News traveled fast. Immediately religious groups rallied to stake claim to the miracle, scientists rushed to prove and disprove medical evidence, and people around the world full-on panicked. It wasn't that anyone wasn't glad to have their loved ones back; it just wasn't the natural order of things. Living things die every day, but they aren't supposed to come back.

A week or so later, it became apparent that something just wasn't right with these second-lifers. Their heartbeats slowed, their brains deteriorated, a foul smell permeated their skin. The skin around their eyes loosened and hung down in puddles under their eye sockets. Their hair fell out in clumps leaving just wispy patches behind. First they couldn't do basic math, then they forgot their families and within days completely lost the ability to reason. Unfortunately for us, they were also unreasonably strong. They refused to be held prisoner and after killing several military personnel a bill was quickly passed by the American Senate declaring the second-lifers clinically deceased and orders were given for their official termination. They were harder than hell to kill though.

If they bit you, or you got any of their blood or saliva on and open wound, you skipped the flu and regressed straight to zombie-hood within 48 hours. This, combined with the Phoenix Flu claiming more and more victims each week, quickly escalated the event into a raging epidemic. Extremely quick, a month at most.

"Are you traveling alone?" Audrey retracted her hand, looking tired but not the least bit surprised at refusal.

"We've lost a few along the way," Mia said. She rested her head against the blanket, feeling Evan's little body curled up in lap. She closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep, to avoid further conversation. The little boat rocked to one side and water spilled over, running down her back. It felt cold but refreshing, she didn't mind it.

A month ago Mia was planning their family vacation. Their hearts set on Disney World. A month ago her biggest concern was the impending property tax bill coming due at the same time their washing machine blew out and needed replacing. A month ago she baked a cake, vanilla with raspberry filling, for her husband's 35th birthday. But those things were in the past now, and she couldn't imagine life ever returning to what it was before. A month ago a few people came down with the flu, turned into zombies, and eradicated over three fourths of the population of the United States of America.

Strange that the Phoenix Flu only popped up in the US. Conspiracy theories were plentiful but true answers would never be found. The rest of the world closed their doors, and their borders, tight. They mournfully watched and waited but offered no form of help, determined to keep the flu quarantined to US soil.

A few weeks earlier, Mia had sat at the breakfast table, keeping Evan company while he ate his cereal. Her husband, Jack, stood in front of the TV, blocking Evan's view of the terror unfolding on screen. It was set to channel 5, the only channel that still broadcasted anything in the US. "No chance they're ever going to un-ground the planes now," he said.

On the TV, images flash across the screen of gruesome not-humans ripping off the doors of a local church. The people hiding inside tried to flee and the zombies lurched after them, grabbing a few and pinning them to the ground. The TV cameras turned away but you could still hear the sickening sounds of flesh being torn apart.

Mia got up from the table and stood behind Jack, not looking at the TV but at the back of his neck instead. She touched his shoulder. "We can't stay in here forever," she whispered.

Jack looked towards the front door. It was double bolted, nailed shut, boarded up and blocked by three heavy pieces of furniture. "Says you," he answered.

Mia looked back at Evan, his short legs swinging back and forth under his chair. His brown hair was flattened against the side of his face and sticking up slightly in the back. Bed-head they called it. She sighed, exhausted. "We have enough food and water to last a few weeks at best. No one is coming to rescue us Jack."

The boat jerked violently and Mia raised her head. Crap, she had actually fallen asleep for a moment. It was better to stay awake, stay alert. She shook the memories of her husband and their small two bedroom apartment from her mind. It was best not to think about Jack.

Audrey was gone, she had moved closer to the center of the boat where it was drier. In her place was a young man, tall and skinny but good looking wearing a college t-shirt. Mia wasn't planning on acknowledging him, but he suddenly stood up and vomited over the side of the boat. When the heaving settled he slumped back down beside her.

"Just motion sickness. I swear," he murmured, wiping his mouth and looking unconvinced in his own statement.

Another man a few feet away spoke up. "Maybe, maybe not. Those folks that came down with the Phoenix Flu, they had fever and chills, some threw up, same as you. Maybe you're fine, but maybe you got the flu."

"I don't have the flu! Shut up old man," the kid shouted. A shiver ran threw him and he started to shake. Maybe it was the cold ocean water running down his backside causing him to be cold. But maybe it was the flu.

Two large men rushed him, picking him up under the armpits and lifting him into the air. "I just don't like boats man, what are you doing? Put me down!" He was still pleading as they hoisted him over the side and sent him reeling towards a slow painful death, hypothermia and the suffocating feeling of breathing water into his lungs. This was the new meaning of the words "self defense."

Mia stared straight ahead and tried to block the sounds of screaming and splashing by softly singing Evan's favorite lullaby. She hadn't sung it in years but suddenly it was all she could think about. She brushed his damp hair softly while she sang, just as she had done when he was tiny. The splashing stopped, and in the quiet of the night all eyes had turned to her. She stopped singing.

One of the large men bellowed to the crowd, "What are you all looking at?" Heads bowed, or turned away, and the general murmur of the ship resumed. The man leaned against the boat's railing and looked down at Mia.

"What do you think is gonna happen when we get there," he asked.

"Get where?" Mia shifted Evan's weight, gently, she didn't want to disturb him but her legs were aching.

"Where ever," the man answered.

"I guess that depends on where we end up then. I'm hoping for a deserted island where we can live out what's left of our days in solitude eating coconuts and playing make-shift beach volleyball."

The man chuckled. A true laugh was a rare thing these days, it made Mia let her guard down. She smiled back.

"Name's Chuck, is that your boy?"

"Yes, his name is Evan, mine is Mia."

"I'm surprised all that commotion didn't wake him up. Although, my Cassie could sleep through a tornado herself so maybe I'm not all that surprised after all." He looked out into the dark for a long time, even though nothing was out there. Mia hated to see big strong men cry and sure enough, the tears started to form at the corners of Chuck's eyes as the silence passed between them.

"How old was she, your Cassie?" Mia gestured for the man to sit down beside her and he did.

"She was four years old. Would have been five next week. Wait, what's the date today? Never mind, it's no matter now. She got bit." He shook his head and grabbed hold of his knees, pulling them tight to his chest. "Couldn't kill her though, just couldn't. I left her behind. I just . . . left her." He was choking now, trying to swallow back the sobs breaking through his speech, and the tears kept flowing.

Mia didn't respond. There was nothing she could say anyway.

When Jack finally left their apartment weeks later, to scout out who was around and see if he could find more provisions, it had been at Mia's insistence. She had been worried about running out of food for Evan and she was worried about the little old lady that lived next door to them. She was a widow and all alone, she could even have been dead already with no one to check on her or help her. So Jack left the apartment for just a few hours. Mia boarded the door back up behind him.

A few hours later Mia and Evan were playing Candy Land, and Evan was winning. At the door there came a double knock followed by one quick tap; Jack's signal.

"Daddy," yelled Evan as he leapt up and ran for the door.

Mia just sat on the floor, frozen in place. It was a frightening though to let anyone in the apartment, even Jack now that he had been outside.

"Come on Mommy, Daddy is home! Let him in!"

Mia shakily rose to her feet and put her hands on Evan's shoulders. She bent down and looked him in the eye. "Go to your room and don't come out until I tell you, OK?"

"But I want to see Daddy!" Evan pouted but Mia insisted. Once he was safely in his room she went to work on the door. Opening it up again took half an hour. While she worked, Jack talked to her through the wooden barrier.

"Had a few close calls out there but I found some bottled water and some sealed food for us, some cans, even some sweets for Evan."

Mia pried out one nail after another, putting each one carefully into her pocket. "Did you check on Ruth next door?"

There was a long pause. Mia stopped working on the door and waited for Jack to start talking again. "Jack? Did you hear me?"

"Yea, I did. I mean yea, I checked on her. Can you hurry up with that door hon?"

Mia unbolted the door and opened it just a few inches. Jack pushed the door open more and rushed in. He unloaded bags full of water and food on the floor, his back was towards Mia.

"Evan was really worried, he wants to see you. I'll call him." Mia started towards the boy's bedroom and Jack threw his arm out to stop her. He grabbed her by the wrist, tight.

"Don't," he said. His voice hitched, he was shaking. Mia looked down at his arm, and screamed. She clasped her free hand over her own mouth to stop herself. Blood ran down Jack's forearm. He let go of her and pulled his arm back in towards his body. A gaping ragged hole with teeth marks was pumping out blood that dripped onto the floor at his feet.

"Oh Jack," Mia whispered. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him one last time, to kiss him goodbye. Instead she stepped backwards. She looked at Jack's arm; his skin was turning a dull grey color already. He turned to her, and she could see his blood-shot eyes drooping in their sockets. How long had he been out there? Mia tried to quickly count the hours in her head. The change was happening faster and faster all the time.

"Little old ladies, don't let them fool you." Jacked laughed a short sickening chuckle. "I just wanted to give you this," he said, and pulled his wedding ring off his finger. He thrust it towards her but she didn't walk forward to take it from him. "I should go," he said, but he just stood there. His eyes flickered with anger, then went dead.

"Jack? Jack? You should go. Go now!" Mia yelled at him, but he didn't move for several moments. A long thread of saliva dripped down the corner of his mouth. He tried to respond to her but all that came out was a long rumbling groan.

"Shit!" Mia took stock of her options, they had one gun in the house and it was currently loaded and shoved under their mattress in the master bedroom. Not where they would normally keep a loaded gun but these were dangerous times. Should have went one step further and carried it with her at all times. With no weapons to choose from, she did the only other thing she could think of. Without warning, she ran forward, holding her arms out, and shoved Jack as hard as she could towards the door. She did this several times, trying to literally push him out the door.

Jack staggered a few steps and in his confusion allowed himself to be pushed repeatedly. Just a few feet from the door he suddenly found his strength. He stood still and ridged, and no amount of pushing could budge him once he decided not to move. His cold eyes surveyed the room then settled on Mia. He grabbed for her and knocked her to the ground. Mia scrambled backwards, all hands and feet, kicking at him and pleading with the man that used to live in this sack of skin. Jack wasn't there any longer though, and the inhuman being that resided there now was intent on eating her. Jack threw himself on top of her and pinned her to the ground. Mia screamed and struggled and beat against his chest with her fist. His breath was hot and rancid on her face; he sniffed her hair and opened his mouth to bite her.

Gun fire erupted in the air, startling Jack. He lifted his head in the direction of the noise just as a second shot was fired. The bullet tore through Jack's chest, not killing him but at least sending him flying backwards off of Mia. Mia jumped to her feet and raced towards Evan, who was standing in the hallway with both hands wrapped tightly around a handgun, the same handgun that Mia had hidden under the mattress when all of this mess began.

"Give Mommy the gun," she said sternly, trying to force the alarm from her voice. She ha made Jack promise not to show Evan the gun, must less how to it. Normally she would have been pissed, but things being how they were, she was forced to be grateful.

"I can't let go," said Evan in a hushed tone. His eyes were wide shiny pools. Mia pried the gun from Evan's little fingers and whirled around to face Jack who had regained his composure and was lurching rapidly towards them once more. She fired twice, one, two, into his head. Behind her, Evan fainted. The kick back from the gun had dislocated his shoulder. Pain and death had overwhelmed him.

On the boat it started to rain. Mia was torn from her memories by her new friend, Chuck, shouting at her. "Earth to Mia! It's raining, cover up that boy's head. Man, he is a sleeper that kid."

It was best not to think about Jack, Mia reminded herself. She pulled the blanket over the top of Evan's head, leaving just a tiny space so she could still look in at him when she wanted. The rain fell from the sky in fat drops, making everyone even wetter than they already were. The smell of salt and rain washed away the more foul odors and hid Mia's tears as well.