"Dry Land"

We returned home from our long voyage all eager to see our families again. Some men were just eager to get back and find a saloon to drink the night away in as we had run out of rum weeks ago. Nonetheless, we all shared the same thought, dry land. It will be nice to be on solid ground even for seasoned sea dogs like us. 

On the horizon, we saw our origins and felt the rush of expectation in the shape of our fair port. Blue skies backdropped our peaceful home. Suddenly the salty sea air gave way to putrid stink and the sky to an ugly brown hue. The first mate coughed his body immediately rejecting the foul smell. All of our cheers quickly fell to concern. The middling deck hand next to me accidently added to our fear.

"Where are the other boats?" he wondered.

Our port, although small was a busy one. There should have been three boats on either side of our wake but instead there was only eerily silent waves of water. What's more there should have been dozens of loved ones on the dock with smiling faces to welcome us back. To our horror they were actually there but not as we imagined. Would be wide grins were replaced by gnarled teeth. Sun kissed skin was replaced with plague ridden rot. They were our families and our neighbors but no longer did they love us.

Bodies of groaning dead flesh and hazy eyes stared lifelessly at us from the docks like starving animals. They reached out for our boat as the captain turned to the port. They did not reach out calling for help nor were they trying to escape by boarding. It was clear that all they wanted to do was attack us, harm us, possibly eat us. Each crew mate ran to the banister and studied every person that shuffled only feet away. The youngest of our crew had finally shimmied down from the crows nest and taken his place alongside the rest of the crew. He peered down analyzing the crowd of unfortunates and to his horror found a familiar face that he dearly loved.

"Dad? Dad is that you? Oh my lord what has happened to you? I'm coming dad I'm coming!"

The young man did not stop to think and the rest of us did not imagine his youthful naivete to be so foolish.  He jumped before we could stop him into the water and swam frantically to the shore with all the energy of a zealous savior. We yelled and shouted but he could not hear us through his familial concern. He gave no thought to himself or anyone else save his father who had a large bite mark where his ear once was. The herd swarmed the young man like a murder of crows. In mere moments thankfully his cries for mercy gave out, though they echo in our minds still. We all knew there was nothing we could do so we turned our heads in shame.

The next port is five days travel from here. The captain honorably decided that we must sail there post haste. In truth, I believe him to be desperately grasping at hope like chasing the fading son on the horizon. Although foolish, what more can one do when the lamp light oil is out? Maybe we will be in time to stifle this monstrous outbreak. If not, I pray it will be some time before we dock again. I don't know if I can stomach what we may find on dry land.