I swam out to my tiny island. At low tide it rises above the Pacific Ocean. It’s my escape from the onshore zombies.
I settled into a pool of water, watching the clouds and ignoring the silent floating buoy. I heard the motor sounds of a large boat approaching . . .
You there! Out of the water now! I’m taking you into custody for fleeing the United States. You are in violation of the U.S. Zombie statutes.
That’s what I hear over the bullhorn. I stood up and saw the big Coast Guard boat. The sailors had rifles pointed at me. I yelled back, “What? I’m not fleeing anything. I’m just on my daily swim!”
They launched a smaller boat with 4 armed seamen, one a petty officer with sergeant’s stripes. He sneered at me.
You are fleeing the country. You couldn’t return to shore — you can’t see it from here.
I pointed towards the mainland. “I always know my way home.” I started to say more, but I passed out. I later found the two burned spots on my chest where the stun-gun probes hit me. Worse, I was wearing a zombie mask that couldn’t be removed, and my left arm was on fire with what I later learned was the dreaded zombie vaccination.
I don’t know where I am now. I’m not feeling myself much anymore. I think I’m in a catacomb and maybe I am smelling the ocean. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.