Shallow Depths

Chapter 1

A/N- Dedicated to an amazing girl who has a birthday this month! Happy early birthday fist-it-out!!! Hope you like this!
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"Zed?" His father's weak and tired voice startled him by the door. "What're you doing?" His son's head dropped from being caught. He'd wanted to sneak out before his parents noticed.

"I'm heading out for the bay, Dad." He admitted. Zevon coughed violently as he attempted to sit up from his spot on the couch.

"Dad!" Zed rushed forward and gently forced his father back down by his shoulders. "You need to rest." He scolded softly. Zevon grabbed his wrist before he could pull back.

"You can't, go out on, your own, Son." Zevon managed between his coughing fit. Zed's brows furrowed. His condition was getting worse.

"I have to, Dad. You need that medicine. We need the money from the catches to get it for you. I have to go." Zed countered quietly, not wanting his mother or little sister to hear the conversation from the other room.

"It's too dangerous to go on your own. I'll go with you." Zevon said, attempting to sit up again before Zed stopped him.

"You're too sick to go out to sea." He argued. "I've grown up on that boat. And I know the waters like the back of my hand! I can do this. I promise." He insisted, eye begging him not to argue further.

Zevon searched his son's eyes for a moment before another episode of coughs took over and he waved Zed off as he started forward to help.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." The older zombie assured, turning his attention back to him once he was composed. "Alright. But please be careful." He pleaded, placing a hand on Zed's shoulder.

Zed nodded, a fire of determination lighting up his eyes. He stood and hurried for the door before his mother could notice and protest.

He grabbed his boots and raincoat, not bothering to put them on in his rush, and slipping out the door quietly before sprinting down the hill towards their family's dock. A small platform on the cove's shoreline his father had built by hand many years ago.

Zed stumbled down the well worn path as he attempted to slide into his boots and coat without stopping. Just in case his mother chased after him. But luckily he didn't hear any commotion from the house behind him as he finally reached the boat.

It wasn't a big vessel by any means, but it did the job and they could get by with it. Being a family of zombie fishermen by trade meant living with what you had and scrounge for what you didn't. But either way, you got by.

He untied the rope anchoring their family's boat to the dock and gave it a heaving shove, jumping on board as it began to drift further from the shore. Once it was nearing the mouth of the cove, far enough that the noises wouldn't reach his house up on the hill, he pulled the engine's ignition cord.

Once.

Twice.

Third time's the charm.

The engine roared to life and Zed hurried to the steering wheel and throttle, giving it a boost and heading out into the ever darkening night covering the ocean. He flipped on the main spotlight just to light his way a little bit.

But no amount of light from his family's little fishing boat could've spotted the silent storm moving in. That Zed was completely oblivious to.

He stopped the boat, cutting the engine. He noticed the winds over the water seemed a little stronger than usual but assumed it was just the breezes of summer pushing into the late spring air. It wasn't uncommon after all.