On Active Duty, Submerged Pandemonium

August 21, 2182

Did you know? In the U.S. Navy, there is a tradition that refuses to allow wandering souls their rest. Even now there are implications that are unnerving and fuel unnecessary apprehension. If a submersible went missing while working, it would forever be classified ‘On Active Duty.’ Leaving a lingering unease in the air, the implications they could one day return from duty were strong. What would happen should those crafts ever return?

Of course naturally speaking, it shouldn’t matter right? After all ‘America’ declined in 2150 after the new generation disease began to spread, of course their idiocy led to the near decimation of the world. Carless puppets that led their society into ruin sent shockwaves that led to devastation internationally. Now there are no borders, no walls or strong discriminations. Religions, cultures and identities; everything was both strong, but hidden. After all there were only a handful of successful refugee camps, the rest of the world was either dead or dying. Foolish and forgetful we humans are, we have a knack for self-destruction and a short memory. We’re quite a selfish race, even now we live for self-satisfaction; proving who can do the greatest things. It’s a popularity contest, a feeling of superiority. Even in a world as godforsaken as this we try to outdo each other.

Some wise man said ‘United we stand and divided we shall fall’ that is the truth. The world has always been divided, as it is now. This is my story, my journal, my log. I am Captain Julian Scott Frae, my vessel is Nemesis. A fitting name I read, after the god of Retribution from some distant myth, was it er… Greek? For someone like me who is sailing due to the ‘crimes’ of my ancestors, I have a strong resonance with this name, and I harbor no remorse for those stuck on land. I will continue my life as a porter, and I shall survive until the end as such. Even now in such dire straits such is my wish, I wish to venture the vast unknown and escape past the condemned.

I’m nearing fifty now, so lest my memory fail me I’ll remind myself how this all began. Perhaps one day someone will find this record and my story will be on a silver screen that I’ve read about. There really aren’t that many new forms of entertainment since the apocalypse began. Tried and true the scriptures were true; plague, beasts, famine and weapons were the doom of humanity. No one realize, or maybe they just ignored it started with the dying birds. All of this back from the 10s, did no one realize that those diseased birds were consumed by other creatures. Even now I don’t understand how it took them a few decades to realize they were consuming things that were toxins. Ingesting a disease does not always lead to immunity, it leads to infection or contamination… Right?

So how did that escape them? Or did they just ignore it, like they did with the chemical tests. Ignorance may be bliss, but idiocy is dangerous. Tearing down million year old forests, allowing the melting of polar caps that held ancient horrors in their depth was suicidal. They did not suffer, so why stop, why listen to the crying world?! ARGH I WANT TO GO BACK IN TIME AND SLAP MY ANCESTORS, SHAKE THEM BY THE COLLAR AND ASK WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THEM?! HOW COULD THEY BE SO CARELESS?!

Anyway… Sorry, being trapped on a submarine is a bit depressing.. I fester, with my books to keep me company when there are no passengers. Er… Though, honestly my ship isn’t quite empty right now. I’ll get to that later.

Anyway, in the year 2054 some genius Pavarti... Lombardi? Something like that, she was like this super scientist of the new age, like 20 years old fighting through school, she published a paper and was kicked out of the medical world. She noticed the mutation caused by the birds and insisted that foods needed to be tested before they could be marketed, of course with the major population boom from the isolation from COVID, that was impossible. Supply and demand, money and money were the most important, screw safety to the sticking place and take a leap of ignorance. Companies wanted money, even the funeral business, they didn’t want the secret out, so she was isolated and pressured into death. But her paper survived and all of our researchers worship her as a martyr, see she was right. A lot of animals were contaminated by those dead birds, whether they lived near, ate the dying vegetation around them and whatever else. The people who are clean have managed to survive thanks to those findings. Working on a cure or a temporary solution to suppress the urge.

The zombification began showing in the late 90s, not a year for nostalgia, no a year for terror and tears. My grandfather was torn asunder in front of my eyes, in the year 42. See those damn lifeless leeches they seem more like vampires than the zombies of tales, just pure cannibals. The disease starts simple, someone can’t digest food, they can’t taste or smell it properly. Then start puking or getting diherrea to pass it through them. Similar to that damn Corona nonsense right? Then things start escalating, if they got one of those boosters while the disease was in them, and not that cute little COVID, no the big bad Genovid, the disease from the birds. It would mutate.

The person would be fine, maybe tired and listless, some would fall comatose and that was the best. But others, they started losing it, going near rabid. They wanted to get rid of the agonizing pain wracking their bodies, apparently eating clean flesh and blood alleviates the pain. Us ‘sanitized’ people are a first-class meal for the damn horrors that walk our streets, they’re in too much pain to be very smart. However remember humans have a strong knack to adapt, there are some very scary zombies out there who regained their wit, they sit in positions of power, controlling the unruly and hunting strategically. The strongholds on land are threatened so that’s how I became a porter. See we have strongholds at sea, some islands and underwater asylums they can’t get to. I don’t really get the science to it, but something changed in their bodies and saltwater is fatal to them, the sodium is part of the reason we can survive. Just like the old stories of sprinkle salt to keep the bad things away right?

The problem being, the smart zombies started destroying places that could distribute salt… So the war of terror kept growing. So the people on the mainlands started to flee and the restriction of testing before departure became lax, just like America of old… Which is how I’m in this boat.

See I’m just hunky-dory, I have a resistance to the germ, and I’m also in a cabin with myself and one attendant, who is currently pissing himself in the back listening to the symphony of screams coming through the door. My ship is designed where the mess is separated from us, captain and vice captain are in the main hall here. We have a separate food supply, washroom and exit to the escape pods. But they have access to everything else. Everyone was fine when we began the journey, but one little princess, who blessed her soul, was the first snack. Snuck on some bear jerky… Now all of my passengers are panicking. The quick ones stowed away, but I’ve got about six very annoying zombies on my vessel.

We’ve got a day's worth of fuel, we’re 20,000 leagues down in the middle of a zone too close to land to discharge the deviants. My vice captain is eighty pounds soaking wet, and he’s as strong as a kitten. My surviving passengers, three of them, took an escape pod and are almost to the asylum now. Two of them are shrieking in the lounge. A young couple, clearly not going to be of any use and a teenager who locked himself in the supply closet.

I’m not quite sure how to get us out of this mess, but with zombies on my boat and water in my sails. I’ll be damned if I’m sinking with this ship. The only time we’re going down is when I go home! Damn it, I will survive. This is my story, not these damn mutants. If I can figure out a way to lure them into the escape room, we can flush them out to sea, even if we let on some water. I need to get my vice-captain to run since they sliced one of my tendons in my leg… I can’t run it even if I wanted to…

Dear mother, Lilith, if you're still watching me with grandpa, wish me luck. I’ll make it home to pops and grams. I swear, as much as I miss you both it’s not my time yet. I haven’t gotten to see the red sea or that place where the waters are dead as night. The night is young. I won't fail, or I'll die aiming for my success.