We'd been sailing for years now, slowly circling the world again and again and desperately trying not to lose our minds. For months on end all we'd see is the endless abyss of the ocean, vaguely interrupted by a pod of whales or dolphins who never stayed long enough to keep us company.
Still, anything was better than going ashore and being gunned down by whatever gang had seized control of the area for the day. It was getting to the point where we were barely able to make it to one port, let alone enough to properly stock up.
Running low on anything essential was a potential death sentence and I'll be damned if I've spent a good half my life surviving out at sea, outliving everyone I left behind only to succumb to an infected blister or scurvy. It was always worth risking our lives atport to ensure we didn't die out at sea.
For a while we were able to trade fish for medicine and fruits but now all they want is our boat. We've had to fend off desperate swimmers who'd rather drown trying than spend another day on land and I can scarcely blame them.
It's better out here, but not by much. Something unseen has been tailing us for three weeks now, the same somethings that stalked the land and tore out humanity's throat in their sleep. They'd live but they weren't human after that - all the things that made them a person were cut out and all that was left was a thing that hurt and consumed.
I don't know when they learned to swim but I know it's only a matter of weeks before we need to resupply which gives them ample time to board our boat and ambush us when we return. If we return. Staying on land was never my preferred option but we don't seem to have any others.
Next week we'll dock and pray we can outrun them.
Pray the rest of humanity's already dead.
Pray we'll live to die of old age or be kind enough to kill each other when we turn.
Still, anything was better than going ashore and being gunned down by whatever gang had seized control of the area for the day. It was getting to the point where we were barely able to make it to one port, let alone enough to properly stock up.
Running low on anything essential was a potential death sentence and I'll be damned if I've spent a good half my life surviving out at sea, outliving everyone I left behind only to succumb to an infected blister or scurvy. It was always worth risking our lives atport to ensure we didn't die out at sea.
For a while we were able to trade fish for medicine and fruits but now all they want is our boat. We've had to fend off desperate swimmers who'd rather drown trying than spend another day on land and I can scarcely blame them.
It's better out here, but not by much. Something unseen has been tailing us for three weeks now, the same somethings that stalked the land and tore out humanity's throat in their sleep. They'd live but they weren't human after that - all the things that made them a person were cut out and all that was left was a thing that hurt and consumed.
I don't know when they learned to swim but I know it's only a matter of weeks before we need to resupply which gives them ample time to board our boat and ambush us when we return. If we return. Staying on land was never my preferred option but we don't seem to have any others.
Next week we'll dock and pray we can outrun them.
Pray the rest of humanity's already dead.
Pray we'll live to die of old age or be kind enough to kill each other when we turn.
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