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Pure fucking insanity.”
    “I need to get home,” I said. Looking back on it, I don’t think anything the fishermen told me sank in. My brain was suffering a mix of physical trauma and utter confusion.
    “Where do you live?” asked the grizzled old man.
    “Courtshire. On the other side of Bayshore.” I pointed in a direction away from the bay, but I have no idea if I pointed the right way.
    “How about you let us get you a pair of pants before you head out?”
    That's when I realized I was half naked. I got up, brushed the sand off my ass, and stared down at my sopping wet, naked lower half. I was almost embarrassed, but I stopped caring just as quickly. What did it matter who saw my dick? The world was ending.
    “Come on,” said the older man as he pulled me back into his supporting arms. “We live right over there. Come on, Billy,” he said to the younger fisherman. “Let’s get this guy a pair of pants and some coffee.”
    I wasn’t in a place to argue. My legs still didn’t work and I suspected shambling through the streets half naked with my head bleeding profusely would raise my chances of getting mistaken for a zombie by a few thousand percent.
    The fishermen were father and son. The dad’s name was William and his son was William Junior, but everyone just called him Billy. They told me they were shrimpers and had been out in the bay when the news of the attacks hit. I asked if they'd seen the school bus of kids eating each other but they said they'd been watching a different channel and saw a story about a hospital in New York.
    They said it started in the ER. People that had come down with the mystery virus started to die, then come back to life. The reporter at the scene was attacked on camera and they saw him being eaten alive before the camera feed died.
    “End of the world,” said William. He handed me a hot cup of coffee that I was glad to accept. My left arm was in a sling and they'd helped me bandage my head up. I wasn't sure if my arm was broken, but it sure hurt a hell of a lot.
    “Why aren’t you guys hiding?” I asked.
    “We don’t need to hide,” said Billy. “We’ve got a fence round us. Ten foot high. Leads all the way to the road and back to the shore. As long as we don’t let those water zombies wash up, we’re safe as can be.”
    “I've been building a salvage yard here,” said William. “We’ve been working on it for about a year. Got the walls patched up and already getting some contracts, but we keep the shrimper going to pay the bills for the time being. Course, junior here’s going to be a professional baseballer in a few years, so we’ll probably just sell off the yard when that happens. Ain’t that right, slugger?”
    “Yup.”
    “Is that why you’re so good swinging that oar?” I asked. I raised my swollen left arm as evidence of his prowess.
    “He’s an all star hitter, pal,” said William. “We just got the news that he got a scholarship. He’s going to be the next Barry Bonds. He’s been knocking the heads off zombies all afternoon. Boy’s got talent.”
    “Yeah, well, I guess that dream’s shot to shit.” I sipped my coffee and didn’t think twice about what I said. However, when I looked back at Billy and William it seemed like my comment was the first jarring moment in which they understood how different their lives had become.
    “I guess you’re right,” said William with an uncomfortable laugh. He sat down in a chair beside me and poured himself the last of the coffee. “I guess I can kiss my season passes goodbye.”
    “Fuck that,” said Billy in defiance of our melancholy. “This is America, man. We’ll get through this shit. Give us a few months and everything will be back to normal. I promise you that.”
    “I hope you’re right, bud,” I said. “I really do.”
    William chuggt>
ain’t no more zombies washing up on our shore. Think you can walk?”
    “I guess so.” I stood up with a generous amount of support from