I'm not really certain if anyone's written about Ish before. I don't think so, but let me know if I'm wrong. Anyway, he seemed like a cool guy, and even has a little sense of humor. I thought he'd be pretty fun to write about. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

The first thing I do when I wake up is turn the television on. There's something about living alone that bothers me. Even the sound of Jerry Springer giving the lowdown to some sugar daddies is comforting.

But, today's different. As soon as I turn it on, I'm bombarded by death counts and the images of dying people. I had heard about it before, but it seemed confined to the south, so I never paid it much attention. They're like crazy, trying to eat people. Or, something like that. Bleeding from the mouth, eyes, ears...

Now it's in North Carolina. Just my luck. I think they're setting up some kind of quarantine zone in Raleigh, but that's too far west for me.

I plan out the next month as I shower. My dad's got a trawler, and he has no need for it now. I'll head to the store, get some food and supplies, and take off for the sea. I can do that. Besides, the infected can't swim, right? I heard that they lose all human traits and become animal-like, but... That could just be a rumor.

I drive to the nearest grocery store. The parking lot is crammed full, so I head over to an adjacent lot. As soon as I step out, a gunshot comes from the crowd, and I duck back into the car. I drive a few more miles, to an organic place. Surprisingly, only a few people are there.

The store is chock full of everything I need, and then some. I grab a lot of vitamins, as an afterthought. I don't want to get scurvy, if that still exists.

The cashier is a young, cute gal. She treats me well, but I know she doesn't see anything in me. I'm tall, but too skinny to be noticed. I've got brown hair, which is boring. I'd say my only decent feature are my blue eyes, but I've got this Jewish nose, and that's off-putting. I got it from my mom, and I don't feel like I should be ashamed of myself and my heritage, but, damn. When you're ugly, how can you be proud?

She rings up the total, which almost completely clears out my bank account. I grab the groceries and run. As soon as I'm driving off, I can see a small herd heading to the store. I've got about a half a tank of gas left, so I head straight for the dock, where the boat is.

I learned the exquisite technique of boating from my father. I say that sarcastically, because I don't think it takes much skill to get a boat through the water. That could just be me. Everything's easier nowadays, with electronic maps and decent ropes. It's got an engine, so I don't have to exactly rely on wind patterns and currents to get me where I need to go. He used to be a fisherman, but that never interested me, so the boat sits at a dock.

I don't even know where I want to go. I could head up the coast, maybe to New York. But, that's not a great idea. If the outbreak has gotten this far, it sure as hell is going to be there. Gonna spread like wildfire. I could head to Maine, but it's going to be cold by the time I get there. I'll just wait it out for a couple of weeks, and see what happens.

Apparently everyone and their dog who owns a boat has got the same idea as me. When I go to fill up the gas, the man running the place just asks for a hundred. "Give me what you've got," he says. "Take however much you need." I hand him all of the cash I have, and a gift card to Subway. It probably all equals out to somewhere near a hundred. I hope.

When I take the boat beyond the buoys, I start to feel a little nervous. What have I done? What will my boss say when I don't show up for work for a week straight? Is this a bad decision? I'm worried that maybe I'm overreacting.

This whole outbreak thing... It seems like a big deal. Florida is almost completely wiped out. Right, sure it will be the same everywhere else. I talk myself out of heading back to town.

A few hours later, I get into a comfortable position, so I make myself a little lunch. There's satellite radio on the boat, so I listen to Fox News.

"...if you encounter anyone with signs of the infection, go to the nearest building and stay inside. If possible, call your local police. If you have been infected, you are required to check in at your city's medical station. If your city has been evacuated, go to the nearest quarantine zone. If you are in a quarantine zone, you are not allowed to leave. Martial law is and will be executed in affected areas..."

I switch the channel to 90's pop so I don't freak out. I can live with Madonna. She soothes my troubled soul.

...

(Two weeks later)

I'm on the last of my fresh food. I've still got plenty of water, and some of the docking stations I've passed are still up and running.

The radio is my only connection to what's going on with the world. So far, the infection has spread to Mexico and Canada. The government is trying to control it, but it's looking pretty bleak. There's some talk of a vaccine. I'm skeptical. They can't just pull something like that out of their asses. Isn't that kind of stuff supposed to take a while? Well, what would I know?

(One month later)

I don't even know where I am anymore. The radio stopped working this morning. My phone isn't working. Everything has gone to shit, all at once.

The last thing I heard was that the infection has spread to nearly every major country in the world. Millions have died already. The scientists barely even know what's causing it.

A fucking fungus. Yeah, a fungus. Some mold set the whole world into confusion. How ridiculous.

I think I can last a couple more months before I have to hit shore. My clothes stink, though. If I don't die by the smell, I think I'll head to a quarantine zone. I don't want to, but I feel like that's the only place I'm going to be able to survive.

I've already been through a couple of storms. The boat took it well, but she's starting to show some signs of wear. I don't even know how I could repair it, if the occasion arose.

(Two months later)

I'm going crazy. I've been singing to myself all day, just so I don't die of boredom. I kind of wonder if I'm a bad singer. No, I think I'm a decent enough of a singer. I could be on The Voice or something. Yeah, I would sing a Styx song.

I can imagine myself taking the stage. Here I am, some ugly skinny guy, but when I open my mouth, I'm the new Josh Groban. Minus the curly hair. My hair is getting long, but it's limp and bland, kind of like dried out seaweed. But, the ladies want me for my voice, and the men are jealous because I've got the women. Yeah. Sounds about right.

I've been watching a boat ahead of me. It hasn't moved at all since I spotted it. I haven't seen anyone above board, either. I steer myself up to it. Maybe they need my help.

"Hey!" I shout. "Anyone over there?"

I hear something clatter to the ground. A plate, maybe? "Hello?" I call, dragging out the o.

A person runs up to the deck. I almost say something, but I realize they're infected. Holy shit.

I'm backing up, but the wall is in my way. The person, thing, or whatever, is snarling at me from their boat. It climbs over the railing, and jumps to my boat. I start running away, anywhere, to get away from it. I open the emergency box, and pull out the axe.

When it reaches me, I try toward it off by yelling, but it doesn't seem fazed. It lunges for me, but I kick it in the stomach. It falls back, and I swing the axe, hitting it in the face. It screams, so I hit it again, this time in the forehead. It stops moving, so I figure it's dead.

It's ugly. Like a human, but not. I think it's a man. It's wearing dirty clothes, but its head had some kind of shit growing out. Its skull is cracked open a little, and that stuff is coming out. The smell is awful. I push it overboard, and I watch it float away. I'm not entirely convinced it's dead, so I keep the axe in one hand, just in case.

I head over to his former boat, and scrounge what I can. He had some good stuff, a couple of guns and some ammunition. I think that'll work better than an axe.

(Ten weeks later)

I can't sleep. I just have this feeling, like I'm going to die, or something awful. I decide to write letters, or maybe journal entries. Mostly to amuse myself, but maybe someone will actually be interested in my story. Probably not, but I'd like to dream.

I scribble out a note as I'm waiting for the sun to rise.

"Well... it's looking like I've dodged the chaos and the mayhem long enough. My time out at sea is coming to an end. I'm short on supplies, and this boat has seen better days. And you know what... this was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it's time to go see what's left of mankind.

What could possibly go wrong, right?

If you happen to find my skeleton, please don't step on my skull. Thanks.

Ish-"

I laugh at that last part. How fitting. I throw it on the floor, realizing how ridiculous it is. I can see the shore now. I think I'm in Delaware, but I can't be certain. I can ride through the rivers, until I find someplace safe. Which might be a while.

I'm kind of wishing I worked out more when I was younger. I'm so scrawny, I'm no match for those infected people. I've got a gun, but that won't be enough. But, no, I chose to be an engineer. I'm regretting that.

As I open a can of peaches, I look to the rising sun. The world has gone on, but humanity hasn't. I wonder what's waiting for me back in the world.

Well, that was the introduction! Let me know if you liked it! Let me know if you didn't like it! I'm open to all suggestions! Please, if you have the time, leave me a review! Thanks for reading!