"I was just a simple sailor before the outbreak. Working the docks of my small fishing village. I'd consider myself a family man, my beautiful wife Sarah and my son Sean, he had the biggest eyes you know? He'd be no older than 6 now by the way. Nothing is more important to me than family, Ok? That's why when we heard word of this crazy virus me and my crew stopped at nothing to get out. We knew it was only a matter of time before the virus reached us. Belfast had already been hit. THE port of Northern Ireland, we knew it wouldn't take long for people coming back from... whereever the hell they were coming back from to spread the virus throughout Ireland. We heard London fell and that was it. We have to leave. Cushendun is less than a few hours north of Belfast we didn't have long. So on the 17th July 2017 me and my crew left home and set sail south, we had hoped to find somewhere still standing in France or Spain. We were wrong, everywhere was either fallen or falling. Death or infected. Nowhere seemed safe... only Tapa. Our loyal fishing boat who has brought us so far. But she can't carry us much longer, supplies are running low. We didn't plan on sailing for so long.. then one of our crew lost it. After everything that happened you can't blame him. Sam McGarry, or Smiler we used to call him. Ironic. I'd known Smiler my entire life, we were inseparable... I guess he was my best friend. But he.. he couldn't get it together, kept raving on and on about how this is the "end of times" and how "God is angry".. Hard to say he is wrong. I.. I had to you know? He was... he was going to get us all killed! I had a wife and son to look out for! I will never forget the look in his eye when I shoved him overboard. Just pure hatred.
We soon reached the Strait of Gibraltar. We planned on docking somewhere in Algeciras but they wouldn't let us dock. I thought we were going to die, that this was it. All that time on sea just to die here...? Maybe we should have stayed in Ireland. But I guess we weren't the only ones looking to dock. A large cargo ship passing by was also refused access to dock, we were able to contact the captain through our radio requesting permission to come aboard. We explained our situation but he didn't care about that. He needed sailors. Turns out he lost a lot of his crew and needed men to help deliver his cargo. I remember thinking "What sort of mad fecker cares this much about his job, when it's the end of the world!?" but either way we needed on that boat. "We are all sailors here, Captain! There are 8 of us- no sorry.. 7 of us on board!" "That'll do!" He said.
He never did tell us what his cargo was or where we were going but honestly, I didn't care. My family and crew were safe. They had food and shelter, I needed nothing more than that. We had been at sea for days. It was nice to finally feel safe.. even as brief as it might have been. Now if I had known where that ship was going.. I could tell you I would've rather stayed on Tapa. A storm came out of nowhere one night. It was relentless.. almost Godly. Captain was screaming at us to find land. He wanted to dock I think, I guess we'll never really know. Before I knew it one of the container holds snapped and I was thrown overboard.
Death is a funny thing ... How do I know I'm not dead and this land isn't hell? How do I know I didn't die back on that ship or back on Tapa? I don't. I might never know. But I will never stop searching.
So I'll ask again. Where is my family?"