Punks Versus Zombies - Episode 52 of the post-apocalyptic zombie serial

Welcome to the final episode of Punks Versus Zombies. In our previous episode, Tommy and Roxy boarded a military helicopter...

The rotor blades droned through the cabin as Tommy and Roxy soared over the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.

They had been flying for what felt like hours, the monotony of the endless blue broken only by the occasional ship.

Tommy pressed his face against the window, his eyes straining to make out anything on the horizon.

The pilot’s voice crackled through their headsets. “Approaching the destination. ETA, ten minutes.”

Tommy straightened in his seat. He glanced over at Roxy, who was already peering back out the window.

A dark shape emerged on the horizon, rising out of the water.

Tommy squinted, trying to make out the details.

“It’s an oil rig,” Roxy said. “That’s where they’re taking us?”

Tommy didn’t answer, his mind racing.

The rig loomed larger as they drew closer, a massive structure of steel and concrete rising from the ocean.

It was like an island, a fortress in the middle of nowhere, with cranes and derricks jutting into the sky, surrounded by a network of platforms and walkways, with helicopters and boats docked at various points.

The helicopter began its descent, circling the rig.

People moved about on the various decks, tiny figures going about their duties.

“Look at all this,” Roxy said. “It’s like a goddamn city.”

Tommy nodded, his eyes wide as he tried to take it all in.

The helicopter touched down on a designated helipad with a gentle bump.

The door slid open, and a rush of salty ocean air filled the cabin.

 Tommy and Roxy unbuckled their harnesses and stepped out, squinting against the brightness of the midday sun reflected off the metal surfaces of the rig.

A young military officer approached them, his hand extended in welcome. “Mr. Merrill, Ms. Delano. Welcome to Poseidon Base.”

Tommy shook his hand, still trying to process everything he was seeing. “I didn’t know places like this still existed. I thought everything was gone, that it was just Mad Max out there.”

The officer nodded. “It’s a common reaction. But as you can see, we’ve managed to keep some semblance of order, of normalcy. This rig is part of a network of safe zones, places where survivors can live in relative safety while we work to clear and secure the mainland.”

Roxy stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. “And how’s that going? The mainland, I mean. Last we saw, it was overrun. The cities, the towns…all of it.”

“I won’t lie to you, we are fighting a war. The infected are everywhere, but those behind it have been neutralised. We’re making progress. Slowly but surely, we’re taking back what’s ours.”

He gestured for them to follow him, leading them away from the helipad and into the heart of the rig. “We have a fully equipped medical centre. There are schools for the children, gardens, and hydroponics bays to grow our own food. We even have a desalination plant to provide fresh water.”

Children played under the watchful eyes of adults, their laughter carrying on the salt-tinged breeze. People tended to communal gardens. Others went about maintenance tasks, repairing and reinforcing the rig’s structures.

“How many people live here?” Roxy asked.

“Several thousand at last count. We’ve taken in survivors from all along the east coast. You’ll get to meet many of them soon, but for now, let’s get you settled in.”

He led them to a large, modular building near the centre of the rig, the word “Administration” stencilled on the side in crisp, military lettering.

Inside, they were processed by a team of staff, their names and details entered into a database, their fingerprints and retinal scans taken for identification.

Then, finally, they were shown to their quarters. Tommy tried to stifle his surprise when the officer leading them stopped outside a block labelled “Couple’s Quarters.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, to explain that he and Roxy weren’t like that, but something stopped him.

Maybe it was the fear of being separated from her. Or maybe it was just the bone-deep exhaustion, the need for any kind of comfort and familiarity in this strange new world.

Whatever the reason, he held his tongue as the officer handed them each a keycard and showed them inside.

The room was small but clean, with a double bed, a desk, and built-in storage.

Tommy stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor, unsure of what to do with himself.

Roxy offered him a smile. “It’s okay, Tommy. We’ll just…we’ll figure it out.”

He nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

They took turns in the small attached bathroom, washing away the grime and sweat of the journey.

When he emerged, clean and dressed in a fresh set of clothes provided by their hosts, he found Roxy sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You alright?” he asked, settling beside her. “Something wrong?”

She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “Everything. Nothing. It’s just…it’s a lot to take in, you know? This place, these people. It’s not what I expected.”

Tommy huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I keep waiting for something to go wrong.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” She turned to face him. “What if this is real, if this is actually a chance for something better? What if we can actually have a life here? I think we can make it work.”

Tommy stared at her. He wanted so badly to believe it, to embrace the possibility of a future beyond mere existence.

But the faces of the lost rose in his mind—his friends, his family. Everyone.

“I don’t know, Rox. I don’t know if I’m ready for that, if I can ever be ready. Not after everything that’s happened.”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. Her skin was soft, her grip warm. “I know. Believe me, I feel it too. But we can’t carry that weight forever. We have to find a way to live with it, to keep going. I need it to mean something.”

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him.

She was right They owed it to the ones they’d lost to make their sacrifices mean something. Otherwise, what was the point?

But it was hard, so hard, to imagine a life beyond the unrelenting struggle for survival, beyond the daily grind of scavenging and fighting and running and just staying alive.

A chime sounded, startling them both.

Tommy looked up to see a small screen set into the wall flashing with a message: “Attention new arrivals. Please report to the main auditorium for orientation at 1600 hours. Attendance is mandatory.”

Roxy sighed, releasing his hand, and standing. “Guess that’s our cue. Time to go see what our brave new world has in store for us.”

---