Winter Apocalypse: Zombie Crusade V (25 page)

As soon as the last of the Louisianans had traversed the massive bridge and passed through the western gate, the old man and his four young guests stopped and radioed the Vicksburg command center for Captain Harden and General Carlson. The two military men were already up and about, so they were on the scene in less than ten minutes. Harden seemed offended to find his friends beyond the gate, creeping out of town in the wee hours of the morning. “Why are you headin’ off into Louisiana?”

Luke tried to sound diplomatic, “I just feel like I’m supposed to head west for a while.”

Harden looked at the youth like he was off his rocker, but Carlson took the news in stride. “What do we tell Jack?”

“Well,” Luke began, “tell him I need to sort through a lot of things; I think he’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Harden tried to change Luke’s mind. “Look, can’t you figure things out while you’re headin’ up the river or somethin’? By the time you get to Cairo, we’ll probably know where everyone is up north. Your friends are gonna want you beside them after all that’s happened.”

Luke looked sympathetic, but Harden’s plea didn’t affect his decision. “I’ve seen Middle Bass Island, and I know how many resources are available along the shores of Lake Erie. Jack and the rest of the folks from Fort Wayne will hunker down for the winter and figure out a plan before next spring. I imagine I’ll be back before then.”

“Look,” he continued, “I don’t expect you guys to understand, but I hope you can accept that I’m heading west. I’m not a geography expert, but I seem to recall that Utah is somewhere in that direction. I’m pretty sure that you’ll see me again.”

Carlson nodded, “Me too. Just remember, Utah is
north
-west of where you now stand. You go on ahead, and I’ll explain things to Jack next time we talk. Anything you want me to tell him?”

Luke pursed his lips in thought for a few seconds. “Yeah, tell him that I love him, and look forward to getting to know him better in the future. And let him know that I have one of my feelings that tells me I’ll be seeing him again. He’ll know what that means.”

“You got it, son.” Carlson extended a hand. “Go find what you’re looking for, then come back and help us win this war.”

CHAPTER 23

Nearly a week after Colonel Longstreet’s arrival and warning of a coming amphibious attack on Middle Bass, patrols out on Lake Erie had yet to report any mass movement of enemy ships from the east. Jack would have felt better if he could have pushed the watchers closer to Buffalo, but bad weather kept sending the sailors into harbors every few days, and nobody wanted to risk losing a boat to Barnes’ forces. The cold that had descended on the Midwest a week earlier hadn’t let up much; regular snows were followed by high pressure that allowed Arctic air to descend across the entire region. The bays and harbors of the lake were iced over, and the rivers that fed into Erie were slowing to a trickle as drainage systems further inland froze solid. In spite of the frigid conditions, the people gathered on the island worked around the clock to prepare for an invasion.

In the months following David and his group’s liberation of Middle Bass, the islanders had been scavenging around the lake for anything and everything they thought might be useful to them in the future. Watercraft capable of navigation on the Great Lakes had been taken to Sandusky and moored in the huge marina there, along with copious amounts of fuel and other supplies. After Jack and Chien decided that the first line of defense would be on the water, they began to select the boats they thought would work best for their plans to battle the expected fleet.

If there was a flagship of the resistance, it would have been the U.S. Coast Guard’s
Neah Bay
, a 140 foot-long ice-breaker found in Cleveland over the summer. Scavengers from Middle Bass had hoped to find other ships and weapons at the base, but the only vessel found in port following the outbreak and collapse was the
Neah
. In the coming fight she wouldn’t be needed to break ice, but the solid old ship would be used to ram vessels full of infected with her reinforced hull.

Helping the
Neah
in her effort to stop the enemy fleet was a score of Bayliner cabin cruisers filled with fertilizer bombs. These craft were to be piloted up to invasion ships by a single operator in a wet suit, who was expected to use remotely-fired grappling hooks to attach the Bayliners to the enemy vessels. As soon as the connections were made, the pilots were to don scuba masks and tanks, slip into the frigid waters, and allow themselves to be towed free of the blast zone by trailing yachts and other boats rugged enough to handle Lake Erie in winter. The bombs would be remotely detonated as soon as the friendly craft were at a safe distance from the targeted transports. Finally, six smaller yachts were outfitted with crude flame-throwers hastily built by several former Special Forces soldiers who’d once worked for Red Eagle, but now served under Chien. These ships had pressurized hoses to spray a thick, gasoline mixture over a hundred feet, with small flames set six inches beyond the nozzles to ignite the highly combustible goo.

On land, David had organized a ground force of almost a hundred fighters, though nearly half were minimally trained spearmen and shotgun-wielders who would back up the armored, experienced troops who would bear the brunt of any assault-waves that made it through to the island. Members of this unit were also equipped with Molotov Cocktails of all sizes and design, hoping to set fires on beached ships and drive the hunters into the frigid waters of the lake. Several squads had also been outfitted with the same type of flamethrowers utilized by the cabin cruisers.

A portion of Chien’s hard-looking group was placed under David’s control, though the former lawyer was wise enough to recognize that the strangers didn’t exactly trust him yet. The colonel gave him the name of an ex-Marine who’d been working for Red Eagle when the virus broke free, and David gave the veteran command of his own people. They would constitute a lethal, mobile reserve, ready to hit the enemy anywhere they made landfall. Finally, the civilian population was concentrated in the strongest, most easily defended structures on Middle Bass, and everyone capable of wielding a firearm, or any other weapon, was armed. Most of these people had received a decent amount of training over the past six months, and a surprising number had actually engaged in combat with the infected at some point in their struggle to survive the early days of the outbreak. Old or young, fit or infirm, nobody who’d lived this long intended to go down without a fight.

As nightfall approached on the sixth day after Chien’s arrival, the wind slowed to what passed for a gentle breeze in winter, and the sky was clear and bright. Jack had the feeling that the enemy ships would be coming, and his warning to that effect surprised nobody who was paying attention to the weather and their own instincts. Sure enough, just after midnight, one of the patrol boats called in a report of the approach of at least a dozen large vessels to the east. All crews had been resting with their ships at the docks, so Jack and Chien had the makeshift fleet underway within minutes of receiving the warning.

A great deal of speculation had taken place regarding possible landing zones, and a general consensus had developed that Barnes’ forces would aim for the northeast corner of the main body of the island. That location was protected from the prevailing westerly winds by two causeways leading to the smaller section of Middle Bass. In addition, the shoreline was relatively low and very close to the runway of the island’s small airport. If a beachhead could be established there, the infected would have two thousand feet of open tarmac from which they could attack in every direction. Since Barnes’ ships would be coming from the east, the coastline at the airport was the most practical destination. With that in mind, Jack had concentrated his forces to meet an assault at that location.

The
Neah
was soon gliding through the water, about four hundred meters ahead of the rest of the boats, when the enemy ships came into sight. Barnes’ macabre transports were crossing the lake with collision lights on, apparently more worried about hitting one another than being sighted by their prey. Roberto was steering the
Neah
at an angle away from the approaching vessels for the moment, but Jack knew that the ice-breaker would soon be turning back to catch the lead ship in the flank.

A few minutes later, the former Coast Guard workhorse was bearing down on the unsuspecting enemy fleet, and as the distance to their target rapidly decreased Jack suspected, too late, that they were traveling too fast to merely hole the enemy craft. He quickly looked over to make sure Brittany and Roberto were strapped into their seats as he double-checked his own safety-belt, and then he felt himself hurled forward against the restraints as the
Neah
crumpled the side of an aging ferry like it was made of tin foil.

Jack was worried that his young pilots were hurt when he heard them shouting, but then he realized that they were yelling at one another with excitement and glee. Roberto had put the engine into neutral just before the collision, and now he backed water as quickly as possible in order to disentangle the
Neah
from what would soon be a sinking transport. The plan had been to hit the lead vessel again to make sure it went down, but Jack could see that the old ferry was done for after the first strike. Roberto was steering around the stricken ship in order to find another target for the ice-breaker, but Jack kept his eyes on the enemy craft to see how the soldiers and creatures on board responded to the situation.

Two people quickly emerged from the cabin and hopped into a lifeboat that was already waiting to be lowered over the side, which Jack thought was a telling sign of how low moral must be among Barnes’ troops. He thought that he would see panicked hunters running around the main deck of the ferry as it settled farther into the water, but there was no sign of the creatures yet.

Brittany was also watching. “They must have the infected locked up somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Jack mumbled as his brain tried to process what he was seeing, or rather, not seeing. “That’s not what I expected, though. I figured that Barnes would use the creatures’ fear of the water to keep them away from the sides of the ships until they beached somewhere; I don’t know why he would need to keep them secured as long as the pilots stay locked away.”

“Check it out!” Roberto shouted.

Two of Chien’s Bayliners were setting another transport afire a few hundred meters to the southeast, and the spraying streams of jellied gasoline made for quite a fireworks show. Roberto turned the
Neah
hard to the left in order to give the burning enemy vessel a wide berth, but again, Jack had a great view of the destruction of another of Barnes’ ships without seeing any hunters jumping to their deaths.

Brittany again interrupted his thoughts. “I wouldn’t want to be the person responsible for unlocking the hunters after making landfall; the creatures are probably insane with fear by now.”

Roberto again interrupted. “Hold on, you guys, I’ve got another one!”

Jack and Brittany both turned their eyes to the front of the ice-breaker just in time to see another rickety-looking transport lying before them. This time, the bow of the
Neah
hit the enemy vessel at an angle, shearing off the rear corner of the larger ship with a great, ripping roar that Jack imagined an iceberg would make as it gutted a wayward ocean liner. As they passed the mortally wounded transport, they could see fires raging all around them in the near distance, Chien’s flame-throwing cabin cruisers carrying out their deadly task with vigor and efficiency. Then they felt the blast waves crashing across the lake, five of them in less than sixty-seconds. Nobody needed to be told that most of the floating bombs had worked as designed, and Jack figured that the enemy fleet was either under water or in the process of sinking. The fight had lasted ten minutes, and not one transport had breached Jack and Chien’s line. Still, neither from the vessel Roberto had just smashed, nor from the burning boats on the horizon, did either Jack or Brittany see a single hunter jump in an ill-fated attempt to escape.

Just then, a panicked voice came over the radio in the cabin. “Jack, Jack, can you hear me? This is Deb--”

Jack grabbed the mike. “I hear you, Deb. What’s wrong?”

“David just reported five landings on the west side of the island, with more ships coming in.”

Jack hung his head as he immediately realized his fleet had been fooled. “All right, we’re turning around right now. Tell him to hold on until we get there.”

Brittany had already opened the channel to the rest of the fleet, handing the live mike to Jack as the disgusted commander dropped the other to the floor. “Colonel Longstreet, all other vessels from Middle Bass . . . turn around and follow me south of the island with all possible speed: I’ve just been outsmarted again by General Barnes.”

Thelma unexpectedly woke Andi from one of her afternoon naps and told her to be ready to leave within the hour.

“To go where?” Andi tried to ignore the fear that was creeping into her consciousness.

“Somewhere with the president. I brought you the clothes he wants you to wear. Even though he only left one outfit, I’d still pack a toothbrush if I were you.” Thelma threw open the curtains. “Hurry up and shower if you need to. I’ll be back with a hot meal in half an hour.”

“Thank you but—”

“No time for questions, dear. I’m sure I don’t have any answers for you anyway.” Thelma left without talking Andi’s ear off, which only served to make Andi even more worried about what Barnes could have in store for her.

David could see fires burning along the western coastline of the small island as he was being driven between landing areas. He was basically utilizing a mobile command system by using his eyes and a network of small, handheld radios. The news wasn’t good. Three ferries and two small container ships had beached themselves on the rocky shoreline with literally no warning from any patrols out on the lake. With all of the islanders’ attention on the imminent attack from the east, David wasn’t surprised that nobody had seen the danger from the west until the invaders were just offshore. As if that wasn’t bad enough, reports were coming in that more ships could be seen approaching by the light of the fires. Now, even over the chatter coming from the radio, he could hear gunshots, hundreds of gunshots, roaring across the snowy terrain.  

So far, nobody had declared a breakthrough by the infected, but Lori and Blake were facing heavy pressure as they led a small group of islanders defending a rocky outcrop against the largest of the vessels yet seen. David could tell from the combination of radio silence and volume of gunshots that the fighting was intense at his friends’ location, so he decided to head there first. When the landing sight came into view, he immediately realized that his friends were in serious trouble. The waves from Lake Erie, even with a very light wind powering them, had swung the ferry around from the point of landing until the entire side of the vessel was listing against the shoreline. The ship was on fire, and the drop from the main deck to the rocks was slight; the infected were literally pouring over the side.

David shouted at his driver. “Stay with the truck and listen to the radio; if anything more important than this comes up, run down there and let me know. Otherwise, everyone’s on their own until Jack and Chien bring reinforcements.”