Time was running out.
Robert began hastily searching the few remaining unsearched areas of the houseboat for anything of possible use. Dag waited by the entrance to the boat, impatient for Robert to get moving.
There weren't many items that Robert wasn't already aware of before, but he did manage to find a box of matches lying beneath an overturned chair. Dag beckoned for him to leave the boat's innards. Reaching into a tattered pants pocket, Robert checked he hadn't forgotten him most valuable possession. The locket was, thankfully, still there. Turning around, Robert bid a silent goodbye to what had been his home for the past three weeks, and then stepped outside.
The two had ventured to the outer porch of the houseboat only a few times during the past few weeks, out of fear of being spotted by one of the Infected. The Infected rarely came out as far as the dock, but it happened on occasion and neither of the two men were going to be outside when it did. Yet here they were, preparing to escape to the harbour, but having no idea how to do so without being seen.
Suddenly, a noise in the distance. Not the lapping of the waves, or the dull boom of a thunderstorm. Robert strained to listen to the sound, and couldn't believe his ears. Somebody was singing a song.
"Do you hear that?" he asked Dag, but he knew that he could hear it as well. It was coming from out to sea, but getting closer. A man's voice, along with a guitar gently being strummed.
It was difficult to make out figures in the dying light of the sun, but they managed to spot a small dinghy being rowed towards them. Hoping to catch the man's attention, Robert began waving his arms in the air. Excitement got the better of him, and in his elation he started to shout.
"OVER HERE!" Robert yelled, before realizing his deadly mistake. Dag tried to get Robert to shut up, but the damage was done. On the shore and on the harbour, Robert had drawn attention to himself. And in a world infested with the Infected, this was fatal.
On the shore, they began running towards the dock. A few at first, but more and more joined in, lusting after the thought of another kill.
The man on the boat began to desperately paddle now, abandoning his shanty and trying to rescue the two men. In a few seconds the Infected would be on the dock; a few more, and they would find the houseboat.
Robert knew they had no choice. Grabbing the collar of Dag's shirt with his right hand, he jumped into the water, dragging Dag along with him.
The water hit them like a slap in the face; unprepared for the suddenness of the action, Dag started to panic and began swallowing water. Robert was a strong swimmer, but having to keep Dag afloat with only one good arm was proving to be a struggle. Above them, on the dock, the Infected had reached the boat; it wouldn't be long before they saw them straining in the water.
Robert didn't have time to teach Dag how to swim now. Dag was shouting, panicking, trying desperately to keep himself afloat but only dragging himself deeper into the murky depths of the Meditteranean. In his own panic Robert accidentally let go of Dag, and suddenly he was gone.
The man in the boat was almost there, and he watched in horror as the Infected on the dock began to notice a conflict just below them. Robert searched around him, but in the back of his head he knew that he had just killed his only friend.
With one last breath of air Robert made a final effort to save Dag. He plunged his body into the black depths of the water, fighting through the pain tearing through his left shoulder to find Dag. He flailed his limbs, hoping to catch a limb, but after twenty seconds in the water he knew his efforts were futile.
And then, something grabbed his leg.
It was Dag! On the brink of unconsciousness, Dag grabbed his leg. Robert used the last of his energy to swim upwards, but realized in horror that they were too deep. He'd never have enough strength; they would drown here, by a dock in a remote Italian village. He began hallucinating as his alertness faded, and everything started to go black...
Something grabbed his left shoulder, and the sudden jolt of pain caused Robert to reawaken. Somebody was pulling him out of the water.
It was George who heaved Robert out of the water. He pulled him over the edge and saw that Dag had weakly held on to him. Sighing, George pulled Dag into the boat beside Robert and paddled away. The lives of two unconscious men had been saved, but they weren't out of danger yet. On the dock, the Infected were reluctant to get into the water, but no action was out of the question for the mindless beasts.
George began to paddle away from the dock, keeping an eye on the ten or so Infected that had now converged on the dock. It was almost night, now, as sunset gave way to twilight.
[Polish]Tonight is going to be interesting, George thought to himself.
