Apocalypse Survivor

“Claire! Pull me up!”

Ambrose's fingers were wrapped tightly around the metal shaft of the boat as the waves battered his body.  His lungs burned, his clothes were soaked, and every muscle in his body screamed for help.

Claire's eyes were red, but she didn't move. “I’m sorry, Ambrose, but you're the least important person on this boat.” 

Her so-called family friend stood behind her. “We can't carry unnecessary weight anymore.”

Ambrose stared at him in disbelief. “Unnecessary weight?”

He had fought zombies for these people while risking his life searching for food and this boat. And now he was unnecessary?

A while ago zombies had attacked the community they had been holding up in and he was able to find a boat for them to escape. But unfortunately, a storm had started, and he was about to throw some of the supplies overboard to lighten the boat when Liam kicked him out.

“Claire!” Ambrose shouted. “Tell them to pull me up!” He slipped. “You're choosing him over me?”

Claire shook her head.  “Yes, he is the father of my child.”

Ambrose’s mind blanked out. What? For a moment, he couldn't understand the words.

The father of my child? His grip tightened around the metal shaft until his fingers turned white. “What... Did you say?”

Claire couldn't even look him in the eyes. Suddenly, every meal he had gone without eating, every wound he had suffered, every night he had stood guard while everyone else slept flashed through his mind.

He had thought he was protecting his family but in reality he was protecting another man's family. For the last two months, he had believed his wife was pregnant with his child and had slaved his way, protecting and scavenging food.  

She had told him that Liam was just a family friend and for the last two months he had been also consuming every supply he brought back without even contributing anything. 

“Get out.” Liam kicked his hand, allowing his fingers to lose its grip.

Splash. He fell into the ocean and watched as the boat disappeared while he was stuck there in the open waters for two days, grieving and gnashing his teeth. 

On the third day his body weakly drifted through the open sea. This was what days of no food and occasionally gobbling salt water did to the body.

Suddenly he heard a loud crashing sound in the distance and when he raised his head it was a huge tidal wave. 

This was it, this was where he died. “If only I ever get the chance again…”

He was not able to finish his words when he felt his whole body crushed by the waves. His eyes darkened.

**********

Several sailors crowded around a television mounted against the wall as the presidential election results came in. 

The Mariners General Area was unusually lively, yelling and cheering at the top of their voices. 

Apparently he had made a wager with his superior. They had made bets on who would win the presidential election. If the third candidate loses he would lose his entire paycheck and if he wins he would get double his salary and skip the compulsory wharf duty.

The room fell silent. Ambrose stared at the screen. “The results are in.”

Ambrose smiled. Three days ago he woke up in the cabins and realized that he had been reborn two months before the apocalypse. 

At first, he had thought it was all a dream, but for the last few days, not only did he have control of his own actions, but everything that happened in his past life repeated unfailingly. 

Just like his past life he had returned from his marine trip to a two month stay at home break before the apocalypse happened. This meant only one thing. 

His superior leaned forward. “Here we go.”

The anchor continued. “And the next president of the country will be...”

A pause. “The third candidate.”

Nobody moved. There was a resounding silence for a few seconds.

Ambrose's lips slowly curved upward. “Well,” he said, breaking the silence, “I won.”

His superior stared at the television and then at Ambrose.

His jaw dropped as he stared back at the television wondering if the anchor was playing tricks. But it was clear as day.  The third candidate had one!

“How?”

Ambrose shrugged.Maybe I'm just lucky.”

“Lucky guess?” The man's face twisted. 

Later that afternoon, Ambrose walked out of the facility with a check of $30,000 in his pocket.

He looked at it and chuckled. Ten thousand dollars. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the money in his account. 

“I'm not crazy. I really came back.”  He could hear his heartbeat aloud, and he could feel his pulse racing.

The money wasn't what mattered. This was proof that his memories were real. The apocalypse was coming. And this time, he had one month to prepare.

Ambrose's smile slowly disappeared. “Time to cut the dead weight.”

***********

The moment he stepped through the front door of his house a mocking voice came from the living room.

“Hmph. So the Sailor Boy is home.”

His father-in-law, Robert, was sitting comfortably on the sofa, his eyes traveling over Ambrose's naval uniform. A crooked smile appeared on his face.

Ambrose said nothing.

Robert chuckled.

“I suppose joining the Marine made you feel like a real man. Just three months in uniform and suddenly you think you're worthy of my daughter.”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I still don't see much difference.”

Worthy? He remembered the rent he'd paid when Robert's business was failing.

The medical bills, groceries, even the money he had transferred when Robert couldn't make payroll. And now this man was standing in his house calling him worthless.

Before Ambrose could answer, a woman's voice came from deeper inside the house. “Is that Ambrose?”

That was his mother-in-law’s voice.

“Ambrose, since you're back, take over in the kitchen! I'm exhausted!”

Ambrose stared toward the kitchen. He already knew what he would find.

There was a mountain of unwashed dishes that filled the sink. Pots were stacked on the counter. Ambrose looked at the mess.

But he simply walked past it.

Behind him, Robert's voice exploded. “Are you deaf?”

Robert was already standing. “My wife told you to take over the kitchen. Why are you walking away?”

Ambrose looked back at him and snorted. “I'm not deaf. But she has hands so she can do them herself.”

Robert's face darkened. “What did you say?”

They were both shocked hearing those words from him. In his previous life, Ambrose had never spoken like this.

For two years before marrying Claire, he had paid their household bills whenever they needed help.

Rent, utilities, groceries, medical expenses. Every time Robert's business struggled, Ambrose had been there. But after Ambrose lost almost everything in a disastrous investment, his situation changed.

He had gone into debt and the only thing he had was this house his parents had left it to him before they died.

When his finances collapsed, Ambrose had considered selling it to clear his debts. Claire had stopped him. She had suggested that her family move into the house with them.

Ambrose had agreed but that decision became the beginning of his nightmare. Once they moved in, Claire started paying some of the household bills. And somehow, that became an excuse to turn Ambrose into their servant.

For an entire year, he cooked, cleaned, ran errands. He paid whatever he could. And whenever he complained, Claire reminded him that she was the one keeping the household running.

He had endured it because he loved her.

Now, standing in the same kitchen, Ambrose realized just how ridiculous that love had been.

He hadn't been a husband but had been their slave.

Robert's face reddened. “You're becoming arrogant just because you joined the navy!”

Ambrose gave him a cold look. “No. I'm just done pretending you're entitled to me.”

“You!” Robert pointed toward him.

“I'll make sure Claire divorces you the moment she comes back!”

Ambrose stopped in his tracks. “She isn't home?

“No, just you wait.” Her father pointed at him. 

He recalled that in his previous life Claire had always been spending many nights outside with the excuse she was on business trips with their family friend, Liam. He had bought the story. 

Oh how foolish he had been. He shook his head and glanced at her enraged parents.

“Well that works best. When she comes back we can get a divorce.”

Ambrose casually said and walked up the stairs to his room leaving the couple stunned. This was 

They seemed to realize something was wrong and this wasn't the Ambrose they knew.

The old Ambrose would have apologized and begged on the mention of divorce at all and would have spent the night trying to make everyone happy.

But that man had already died once. And Ambrose had no intention of bringing him back.

Ambrose entered his room and shut the door then dropped onto the bed.  “I really came back.” He muttered as he slowly fell asleep.

Suddenly, his eyes slowly opened…but something moved beside him.

Ambrose's eyes snapped open. His body reacted before his mind did. He shot upright and a  woman in lingerie was lying beside him, her long hair falling over her shoulders and her feminine smell were all in his nostrils.

For one terrifying second, Ambrose thought he was still dreaming. Ambrose's hand instinctively reached toward the bedside table.

She raised both hands. “It's me, Ambrose.”