03 Deluge of the Dead (17 page)

“Perhaps,” Carl considered. “But we don’t know how many are out there.” He went to look through the peephole, but most of his view was obstructed by bodies pressing against the other side of the door. He did glimpse the door across the hall though, directly opposite this one. They couldn’t even shoot through this door without the chance of the bullets going into the other apartment.

“No,” Carl decided. “We’ll have to do this the hard way.” Hefting his axe in one hand and pistol in the other, he said, “Blade and I will fight across to the other door. Gus you take out the ones down the hall to the left with the shotgun. You two,” he gestured at the firemen, “can use your pistols on the ones to the right of the door. Remember to go for head shots only. Is everyone ready?” When nobody objected he opened the door to Hell.

*****

George Hammer was surprised to see all of the Marines pouring out of the transport ship, but O’Hara just shook his head and said, “Tactical deployment; they’re securing a beachhead. The problem is it looks like they’re pointing most of their weapons at the
Sovereign Spirit
.”

“Why the hell would they do that?” demanded George.

“Probably because they know she’s the flagship of the Flotilla,” the sergeant major replied. “If they take her over, they think they can run the show around here and they’re probably right.”

“Damn it!” said George. “Why now? Don’t they know we are in the middle of a major rescue operation? What have we done to deserve this?”

“We gave them a taste of the goodies we found here,” O’Hara replied with a hint of disgust. “I’m sure this is Admiral Winchester’s idea, but I’m surprised that General Barstow would order the Marines to go along with it. As for why they’re doing it now, it’s perfect timing from their perspective. The Flotilla is dispersed along the coast and so are all the Coast Guard cutters and helicopters participating in Operation Dunkirk. Most of our new militia is out with the rescue and salvage crews and the rest are posted at the bridges to screen arriving refugees. Hell, I think I’m the only one of Scott’s Marine detachment who’s still here.  The rest are all part of the rescue operations and they took all the armored vehicles and heavy weapons with them, not that we would ever fire on fellow Marines. But I doubt those Marines would fire on us either. If my men were here we might have been able to reach a standoff.”

“Shit,” George muttered. “What can we do now?”

“I can still try to reason with them,” O’Hara replied. “I probably know most of them. Take this boat up along the starboard side of the
Sovereign Spirit,
the side away from the dock, and I’ll go aboard through the side hatch. The Marines won’t see or interfere with us there. Can I use your cell phone to call the Commodore?”

*****

“Thank you, sergeant major. I’ll meet you down there,” Scott said before ending the call and turning to Captain Fisher. “The
Expiscator
will be coming alongside to drop off O’Hara. He and I will try to negotiate with the Marines outside. I’m glad we had the vehicle ramp raised during the rain so they can’t just stroll aboard. You stay on the bridge and monitor the situation. I’m not sure what to expect.”

“Yes sir,” Fisher replied.

“Jordy?” Scott said. “This could turn nasty. I want you to move Michelle and Billy over to the
Expiscator
right away. If the military take over this ship I want my family off of her.  At least they can survive comfortably on the yacht and they might have a chance to negotiate more from there. The last thing I want is for them to be held hostage here.”

“They won’t want to leave you here,” Fisher pointed out.

“Tough shit,” Scott said. “They don’t want me to die either, and neither do I, but I’m more worried about them right now. I’ll do what I can, while I can, but I need to know they’re safe. Just tell them it’s my final wish and see that they abide by it.”

  Scott left the bridge without waiting for an answer. Time was too short. He went directly to the elevator. He still didn’t feel sick and was glad that if this crisis had to come, at least it came while he was still able to face it. He kept thinking about General Barstow’s promise that he had nothing to fear from the US Marines. There had been no communication to the contrary since they left San Diego. So why would the Navy and Marines show up with their guns drawn and pointed at his ship? Something wasn’t quite right about it, but then again, nothing seemed to be right with the world anymore. 

Scott arrived on the vehicle deck just as one of the crew was opening the starboard access hatch, as instructed from the bridge. Sure enough, the
Expiscator
was just pulling up alongside the ship. O’Hara hopped aboard. Scott moved forward to tell Stan Dawson to keep the yacht there until Billy and Michelle came aboard, then take the
Expiscator
around the port to the far side of the Queen Mary and wait for word from Captain Fisher. His final order was to protect his family and take them to Catalina, if the Flotilla lost control of the safe haven. 

Scott turned to O’Hara and said, “Were you expecting this?”

“Shit no,” said the sergeant major. “But I probably should have. After what Admiral Winchester has been doing down in San Diego, and knowing his apocalyptic mindset, I shouldn’t put anything past him. But let’s not jump the gun, sir. We don’t know what their intentions are yet. So let’s go say hello and see what they want. Those Marines out there know me and I’ll stand by you and your ship, Commodore.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Major,” Scott said with feeling. “That means a lot to me and you might make a big difference in how this turns out. But before we go out there I have to ask you one more thing. The first time I asked this you said that if you told me you’d have to kill me. Since I’m going to die soon anyway, can you please tell me your first name now?”

O’Hara didn’t laugh, but he did smile sadly. “Marion,” he admitted. “Marion Ashleigh O’Hara. My closest friends call me Ash. Anyone who calls me Mary learns better than to do it twice.”

“I won’t tell a soul, Ash,” replied Scott as they walked across the vehicle deck to the hatch that would open onto the dock in front of the
Cape Inscription
where hundreds of armed Marines awaited them.

*****

The hallway was awash in zombie blood and the fight wasn’t over yet. Carl had led the charge out of the apartment, swinging his axe and firing the 9mm pistol up and down the hall. He knocked down four or five of the monsters, but more swarmed towards him. It wasn’t the first time that he was thankful for the fireman’s jacket he had appropriated on Z Day. The tough waterproofed material protected his arms and torso from deadly scratches and bites directed his way, but he was soon overwhelmed by the zombies that closed in on him.

That’s when Karen Slade’s blade came into play. She slashed at the necks of the zombies with controlled and powerful strokes, decapitating several and incapacitating more. Carl was afraid her sword would slice into him, such was the fury of her attack, but Karen seemed to be in perfect control of her blade. Together they fought their way across the hall.  Within moments the gunfire from Gus and the firemen tore into the zombies on either side of them. The deafening shotgun blasts quickly cleared the shorter end of the hall while the sharp cracks of the 9mm pistols continued to pound into the zombies that emerged from the stairwell.

Gus reloaded the shotgun while Carl banged on the door to the apartment, yelling over the gunfire, “Open the door! We’re here to rescue you, but we have to go now!”  There was a moment of delay before the door opened a few inches, stopped short by the security chain, and a woman’s face peered through the crack.

“Who are you?” she screamed. “What do you want? Don’t hurt my babies!”

“Open up,” Carl insisted. “We’re the good guys, but I’m not sure how long we can hold off these zombies. Grab your kids and come with us, if you want to live.” The door closed again, but she had nodded. Carl assumed she was gathering her children and releasing the security chain. His attention returned to the battle in the hallway as the sound of gunfire subsided. The firemen were reloading their pistols and the zombies were charging them. Carl raised his own pistol and fired, hitting a female zombie between the eyes and knocking her back into others behind her.  Karen stepped forward to slash at another one as Gus fired past the firemen into the cluster of undead.

One of the zombies, a small child, came forward below the line of fire and dove onto the leg of a fireman. She bit at his pants, which were fortunately made of tough waterproof material. The fireman yelled out and swung his pistol butt down onto the top the mini-zombie’s head with savage force. The former child released its grip and crumpled to the floor. The fireman’s partner made certain it was terminated with a shot to the head from his reloaded pistol. There was a growing pile of bodies in the hall, yet more of the undead kept emerging from the stairs.

Carl leaned his axe against the wall as he ejected a spent magazine and inserted a full one. No time to retrieve the empty clip. They needed to get this over with and withdraw quickly. Grabbing the axe, he pounded it against the apartment door again, yelling for them to hurry. This time the door opened fully, revealing the terrified mother and her children. Carl nodded and herded them across the hall. A young boy held his sister’s hand and followed their mother who clutched a tightly swaddled infant. As soon as they were in the other apartment Carl called out to his companions, “Fall back! I got them. Let’s get out of here!”

Gunshots continued to blast away at the encroaching zombies as the team withdrew to the apartment. It took all four of the men to close the door against the undead tide as Karen used her sword to hack off any arms, fingers or legs that tried to reach through the doorway. As soon as the door was closed and locked Carl and Gus piled furniture up to reinforce it. The firemen were talking in hushed voices as Karen turned to comfort the woman and her children.

“We have a little problem here,” said one of the firemen. “John’s hand is bleeding. He doesn’t think it’s a bite, but he’s not sure how he got cut.”

“Shit,” said Carl. “Well you’ll just have to keep an eye on him. Clean the wound and disinfect the cut as soon as we get down to the truck. You won’t know for sure until later tonight. In the meantime let’s get…”

“Dear God!” Karen interrupted with a shout. She had been speaking to the woman and had reached to stroke the infant’s head, only to jump back in sudden shock. “The baby’s a zombie!” she cried out.

Everyone froze to stare at the little child and the mother who cradled it protectively. Carl could see that it was tightly swaddled and squirmed in its mother’s arms. It didn’t cry, but it was making some sort of sound that Carl found hard to describe - sort of a cross between a high pitched moan and a gurgle. From its small size Carl judged it was only a few months old.  He was no expert on babies, but Carl thought it was too young to have teeth yet and could barely lift its own head. That would explain why it wasn’t biting its mother, but now that he looked closely he suspected that it wanted to.  The tiny face did have a look of ravenous craving that he very much doubted milk could quench. There was also some telltale foam at the corners of its mouth, another sign of Super Rabies. Carl stepped forward for a better look.

“Stay away from my baby!” screamed the woman. “She’ll be fine. Just leave us alone.”

“Relax, lady,” Carl said soothingly. “We came here to help you. How long has your baby been like this?”

The woman looked down at the child and in a broken voice said, “About ten days ago, but I think she’s getting better now.”

Carl could tell she didn’t believe it. “What happened to her?”

“One of those crazy people scratched her arm the last time we left our apartment,” the woman replied with obvious horror at the memory. “A woman tried to rip my baby out of my arms. If Mr. Jefferson, the building superintendent, hadn’t pulled the maniac away, well, I don’t know what would have happened. But he saved us. We ran inside and haven’t come out since. And poor Mr. Jefferson! He was one of the ones pounding on our door. But my baby only got a scratch. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” The woman was sobbing now.

 Carl exchanged sad and helpless glances with Karen, Gus and the firemen before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss, lady, but your child is already gone.”

“No!” she wailed. “She’s just sick. Help her, please, God help us. She’ll get better. You’ll see…She doesn’t even have a fever. Her skin is cool.”

“Has she eaten anything since she got sick?” Karen asked softly.

“No,” the woman shook her head and stared at Karen questioningly. “She acts hungry all the time, doesn’t seem to sleep at all, but she doesn’t cry and refuses to drink her bottle. I force her to take it sometimes, but she throws most of it back up.”

“You don’t breast feed her, do you?” Karen asked.

“No,” the woman replied. “I use a breast pump and bottle.”

“Good,” said Karen. “That probably saved your life.”

“What are you saying?” the confused mother asked. “She hasn’t gotten any worse in more than a week. I know she’ll get better soon. She’s just sick.”

“So are those people banging on the door out there,” replied Carl sadly. “Look, lady, excuse me, what’s your name?”

“Janice,” she replied hesitantly. “Janice Crane. My kids are Carl and Jenny. And my baby’s name is Hope.”

“Well, my name is Carl too,” he said and smiled down at the terrified little boy, estimating his age at five or six. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that wouldn’t be true. We came to help you and we will, Janice, but I’m afraid it’s obvious that Hope is infected with the same thing as those monsters in the hall.”

“No, not my baby…” Janice moaned.

“Like I said, I’m really sorry, but we need to leave now to rescue other survivors and you have a hard decision to make,” Carl said in a steady voice. She looked at him blankly, unable to comprehend the implied choices, so Carl spelled them out. “You can leave the baby here, like she is, or we can help you end her suffering, but you can’t bring her with you. We can’t allow the infection to spread into the safe haven.”