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KATE
“Will someone please explain what the fuck is going on?” Ben demands.
“What the hell is an impassable zone?” Eric asks.
“I’ll tell you as we go.” I turn to the group. “Everyone, grab your shit and get your shoes on. You have three minutes. Go.”
“Shit-shit-shit!” Susan yells. “We’re going to die out here.”
“We’re not going to die,” I snap. “Get your shoes on, Susan.”
I hurry to pull sodden socks out of my pack and shove my feet into equally sodden running shoes.
Ben and Caleb fasten on the large bags laden with weapons. Damn. I wish there was time to rearrange all the gear so they didn’t have the lion’s share of the burden.
“Everyone, fall into line single file behind me,” I say. “Reed, you’re my strongest runner. You bring up the rear. It’s your job to make sure no one falls behind. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mama.” Reed takes his place at the back of the pack, solemn in his assignment. He might be a goofball much of the time, but he knows when it’s time to drop the act and put on his game face.
“Everyone listen to me very closely,” I continue. “We are in a very dangerous section of Northern California. It’s called the Lost Coast. It’s so rugged that when they built Highway 1, the authorities decided it was too treacherous and that it was just easier to divert inland. And those guys had dynamite and heavy equipment.
“There are several sections of the Lost Coast trail that are impassable at high tide. People have died out here. The tide is rising. This section of the beach will soon be completely covered in seawater. If you don’t drown in the high waters, the rip tides will suck you out to sea.”
“How long is this section?” Caleb asks.
From everything I had read on the Lost Coast, the two impassable sections are each about four miles long. I turn to Susan for verification. “Four miles?”
“Thereabout.” She’s once again gripping her red hair in her hands.
“We have to run,” I say. “The rocks are going to make this hard. This is nothing like running on the track, or even around the streets with zombies. Keep your eyes on the ground. Always track one to two steps ahead to make sure you don’t fall or roll an ankle. Whatever you do, haul ass. Susan, how much time do we have before the tide is fully in?”
“An hour?” Susan looks at us helplessly. “Not much more than that.”
“Got that?” I sweep my eyes over my people. “One hour. It will be a hard hour. Run hard. Remember, keep your eyes one to two steps ahead of where you plan to step. Let’s move.”
To the average person, running fifteen-minute miles might sound like a piece of cake. Hell, even at a fast stroll a person should be able to walk a mile in fifteen minutes.
But we’re on a beach. There is no beach in the world where a runner will be as fast as he is on pavement.
This particular beach, with its jumble of sea-tossed rocks, is even worse.
Even though I told the group we have to run, true running isn’t possible. There’s no way to establish an even gait with the uneven terrain. It’s more like loping strides as we leap among the rocks.
We haven’t gone more than fifty feet before someone behind me goes down with a yell.
It’s Susan.
“I’m fine.” She staggers to her feet, favoring one ankle. “Twisted my foot on a rock.”
I give her my best Mama Bear look. “You have to ignore the pain,” I tell her. “Don’t focus on it. Focus on getting the fuck off this stretch of land and into the safe zone. You got it?”
I don’t wait for her to respond. There is no time to baby anyone out here. If I let up, we could all die.
The water edges inexorably closer as we run. I try not to look at the patch of giant boulders that approaches ahead of us, all of them hugging the tall cliffs. As the water creeps closer, it will force us onto those large rocks.
Fear pounds in my temples. I push as hard as I dare, slowed by the rocks underfoot. Breath saws in and out of my lungs, partly from exertion, partly from fear.
A shout goes up behind me. I turn in time to see Ash go down. A wave drenches her. Eric and Caleb haul her to her feet. She splutters, wiping salt spray out of her eyes.
“I’m fine,” she gasps, face set with determination. “I just slipped.” There is blood on her hands where she caught herself on the rocks, but otherwise she looks okay.
I nod and plow onward, focusing on the terrain right in front of me.
How are Ben and Caleb faring with the weapon packs? A glance over my shoulder shows them keeping pace, but how long can they keep it up? The weapons won’t mean a thing if we drown out here trying to hang onto them. We can find other weapons. We can make other weapons. And I still have the alpha zom recording.
I open my mouth, ready to tell Ben and Caleb to ditch the bags. Just as I do, a giant wave looms up, foamy fingers reaching for me.
It crashes down over my head, sucking my feet out from under me. Water gushes down my throat and nose. I tumble sightlessly through the waves.
Rocks scrape against my back. A scream tries to force its way out of my mouth. All I get is another lungful of water.
My eyes sting from the saltwater. All around me is cold and blackness.