“I know it does, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t you worry, Cas. I’ll stay right here and change this bandage every day. You’ll be as good as new before you know it,” Bernie said as she drifted back to sleep. He stood watch outside the car. He’d let her rest for now, as they’d be running soon enough, he imagined. They always were.
• • •
Jeremiah and the others returned from their reconnaissance of the eastern marina. The situation appeared calm as their truck came to a slow halt.
“What’s it look like over there, Jerry?” Miller asked.
“The eastern marina is gone, sir. Completely destroyed. I can only speculate what happened, but it appears a tanker ship crashed into the main mass of boats and exploded, igniting the marina and surrounding structures. There’s nothing left at that location except for charred debris.”
“Or it was blown up on purpose,” Sam suggested. “It’s possible those bikers might have stashed a few boats and destroyed the rest. We don’t know if we got all of them. Hell, they could be watching us right now.” He adjusted his hat as he peered off into the distance, searching for more raiders.
“Possibly,” replied Miller. “Either way, that marina is of no use to us now and I don’t plan on being here long enough to find out. Rachel, how are things looking down south?”
“The southern marina is stacked deep with those things, sir. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing down there, but I’d prefer not find out. No need to get any closer again and risk alerting them to our presence. You can see plenty from here. Take a look.” Rachel handed off the binoculars.
Miller had looked at the closest marina a dozen times by now. He knew going in it was their only real option. The recon of the other two marinas was merely in the hope of establishing a backup plan. This close to their destination, he wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. “There has to be close to a thousand infected down there. We’d never make it through, much less find a working boat before they swarmed us. The southern marina is out of the question.” Miller turned and faced southeast again with the binoculars. “That leaves my least favorite of the bunch: the marina just past the bridge. It’s obviously closest to us, but it’s also closest to town and who knows how many carriers. I was really hoping to avoid it, but at this point, it’s our only option.”
Miller had a makeshift map scribbled down on an inside-out cereal box. The plan was simple enough. Three groups of three would hit the marina and spread out, clear any carriers wandering between the buildings, then meet up down by the docks.
“What do you see, Captain?” Sam asked.
“I make out about two dozen, maybe thirty or so infected wandering about. They shouldn’t be a problem out in the open like that. What concerns me is the buildings. They could be full of useful supplies or a hundred of those things ready to jump on us, but we won’t know until we’re in the shit.”
“Orders, sir?” Aiko asked.
“We’re going to do this by the books, people. Hard and fast. Don’t give those things a chance to group up. Radzinski, Soraya, and myself are on point. Jerry, Aiko, and Sam take the right flank. Rachel, Marisol, and Bernie cover us on the left. The rest of you, stay with the vehicles. If anyone approaches, detain them until we get back. If they refuse to cooperate, shoot them. If it comes to it, lethal force is up to your discretion, understood?” Miller looked around at the mostly receptive faces. The majority were checking over their weapons, sharing ammo, and discussing tactics should the gang reappear.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going to be taken by surprise again,” said Markus.
“Good, one more thing,” Miller added. “Single shots only unless you get boxed in. Ammo conservation and keeping these boats in one piece are priority. If everyone’s ready, let’s do this.”
• • •
Dozens of bodies littered the marina. The aftermath of battle was apparent in the carnage left behind. Nine boats remained afloat in the once-thriving Longleaf Bay harbor. Scores more rested half-submerged in the relatively shallow water. Miller and his three groups cleared the area adjacent to the docks, between and behind every building, inside and under every broken-down vehicle, beneath upturned boats, and behind the smallest shed. If a door was open, they entered and did the same inside. Locked doors were passed by as time was of the essence.
Longleaf Bay proper was only just over a small ridge from the marina. Tops of burnt-out buildings were all that was visible of the town from its vantage point. The town remained full of infected, but Miller and his people had neither the time nor resources to clear the streets. Their only hope lay in finding a seaworthy vessel to leave this place behind, or else they would have to return to the uncertainty of the road.
“Every boat at the far end is either shot or halfway submerged,” said Sam.
“Similar over here. We found one seaworthy, maybe, and that’s a big maybe at that,” Aiko replied.
Rachel came jogging up to the growing group at the dock. Markus, Isaac, and everyone else who wasn’t otherwise preoccupied with boats were nearly finished transferring the supplies to the dock.
“No joy over here,” Miller offered.
“Don’t worry about it. I think we’re good,” said Rachel. “Bernie and Soraya are putting the finishing touches on one as we speak. They scavenged parts from these other heaps and now they’re working their magic. He said it was a sword boat, whatever that means. The Emerald Star she’s called. All I know is it’s big and there’s not a leak to be found.”
“Outstanding,” Miller replied. He turned to address everyone else who to his astonishment were already gathering up the supplies they had just dropped off. A few were already walking toward the boat.
“Well, would you look at that,” said Sam.
“Impressive, boss man.” Rachel patted Miller on the back on her way to give the others a hand with the supplies.
“Take a bow, Captain,” said Sam. “You managed to get these people to come together, work as a team. Gotta admit, I never thought I’d see the day.”
A puff of black smoke rose from the other end of the dock as the Emerald Star returned to life. Its engine purred. More than a few cheers erupted from the survivors.
“This one seems to be our best bet, Miller,” Bernie said. “Three-quarter tank of gas and lots of fishing supplies. Looks like it’s a sword boat. Plenty of room for everyone and then some.”
“We are lucky. There was not much else to choose from,” added Soraya. “The rest of the boats, they are all wrecked or too small for all of us. It seems we are not the only ones who had this idea.”
“It’ll have to do. This is just what we needed, you two,” Miller replied. “Great work.”
“Bernie did a hell of a job fixing her up, sir.”
“Soraya’s being modest, Miller. I couldn’t have done this without your little lady here. She worked miracles in there with not much more than a roll of duct tape and spit.”
The two mechanics exchanged a handshake. Bernie went back below deck for calibrations, leaving Miller and Soraya alone.
“I better get going. More work to be done,” Soraya said. On her way below deck, she tossed Miller a smile and gently drew her hand down his arm, pausing momentarily when their hands met. He nodded and wondered how many days it had been since he saw her look happy. Any of them, for that matter.
• • •
The sun was at its highest and brightest by the time a small portion of the group had boarded the Emerald Star. Miller and Soraya were going over a few last-minute details while Sam and Marisol walked the deck, anxious to get going and put the road behind them.
“That is it. We have siphoned all the gas we could find from the other boats,” Soraya said. “Extra batteries, parts, odds and ends, I think we have just about everything we need to get us to where we are going.”
“Good, while we’re here, I think we should give these marina buildings a once-over, then be on our way,” Miller suggested.
“We should, yes.”
A duffel bag flew over the side and landed on the deck by Miller’s feet. Vanessa hoisted herself up behind it.
“Careful with that,” said Soraya.
“Hey, guys. Sorry,” Vanessa said, struggling with the slippery rail.
“Never let that happen again,” Soraya teased with a smile as she helped Vanessa board the vessel.
“Thanks. That’s the last of the stuff from the cars. I think we’re just about ready to go, but we’ve got a problem.”
“Now what?” Sam asked.
“Well, now that we’re here and almost ready to go, it seems a few of the others have finally decided to speak their minds.”
“Oh? And who has a problem now?” Miller asked.
“I’m sorry, Miller, but I promised I’d leave names out of it.”
“Fair enough. What’s their issue, though? Everyone seemed fine an hour ago.”
“Cold feet mostly. I think a few of them thought we would never actually find a boat. That’s my guess. And for the record, I’m ready to go. So are Lillian, Markus, and most of the others.”
“Thanks, Vanessa. I figured you would be.”
“Their main hang-up seems to be food and water and if it’ll last. But I think the truth of the matter is that a couple of them, one in particular, is afraid of the ocean.”
“That’s understandable, but we can’t start second-guessing ourselves now, and going back the way we came is not an option. We simply don’t have the resources,” Miller said.
“How much food and water do we have left?” Vanessa asked.
“If we tighten our belts, we’ve probably got about a two-day supply of food. Double that, maybe triple, for water,” Sam said.
“Rations are one thing, but ammunition is going to be a problem soon,” Marisol added. “We can’t afford another shootout and we can be sure we’ll see more gangs the closer we get to the larger cities. The boat really is the way to go. Doubt we’ll run into many roving gangs on an island.”
“Then that’s it. We stick with Tobias’s plan?” Vanessa asked.
“I don’t see that we have any other choice.” Miller peered through his binoculars, back toward the populated areas beyond the harbor. “Those things are still out there. They just haven’t noticed us yet. My guess is, as soon as the wind changes direction, they’ll be on us. We can’t afford another encounter, not right now.”
“They’re all worn out. A good night’s sleep is all they need,” Sam suggested.
“And we’re not going to get that on land. Not here, anyway,” said Vanessa. “I say we take our chances out there, at sea. I mean, we’ve come all this way. Soraya and Bernie have got the boat working. What are we even talking about? I can tell the pessimists we’re going with or without them. Maybe that will snap them out of it.”
“I know what the problem is.” Marisol singled out Lancaster, who was at the far end of the pier with a small group surrounding him. “He’s a politician. He knows how to use people’s fear to get what he wants. If they’re busy doubting you and the plan, they won’t notice as he slowly rebuilds his power base. Say the word and I’ll tie him up in one of the boathouses. We can leave him here and be done with it.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Miller almost smiled. “Gather everyone up at the pier. I’ll brief them in five.”
The ragtag group of survivors, filthy from weeks on the road, gathered around the end of the dock, awaiting Miller’s briefing. Begrimed and torn clothes adorned their filthy skin. Weeks without properly bathing and the stench would be unbearable if not for the nearly coma-like daze most of the group had succumbed to. It wasn’t dissimilar to their relentless pursuers.
Miller hated addressing crowds. He avoided it at all costs for as long as he could remember. Even with consideration of the bonds that were forming between him and some of these formerly complete strangers, he didn’t want to do this. Rachel convinced him it was either a quick speech or take all day, pulling everyone aside individually. Miller pushed aside his misgivings and took his place at the center of the mass of nervous survivors. “Make no mistake, getting on this boat and heading for an unknown destination does not guarantee survival. I don’t know what we’ll run into out there. All I know is we can’t stay here and we cannot continue on the road.”
Some of the crowd nervously checked their surroundings for any sign of approaching infected. Others remained attentive to Miller’s speech. Damon and former Mayor Lancaster had no qualms in showing disdain for anything their self-appointed leader had to offer.
Miller spoke up, ignoring the growing discontent. “We know now that there’s more to worry about out there than carriers or infected or whatever we’re calling those things today. For all we know, some of those bikers managed to escape and they could be tracking us. Hell, they could even be watching us right now. We have no way of knowing.”
A few gasps emanated from the crowd. Some ducked from invisible attackers while most at least scanned the horizon. Every one of them felt for their closest weapon. Radzinski smirked in quiet pleasure at the civilians’ fear. Unbeknownst to most of the audience, Radzinski, Soraya, and the rest of the soldiers were busy scanning the horizon for movement while Miller addressed the crowd. For the time being, at least, they were perfectly safe.
“Tobias had a plan. We make a run for the sea, find a boat, and head south for the islands. I had no reason to doubt the man then, and I see no reason to now. As a matter of fact, Tobias’s plan could very well save all of our lives.”
Lillian managed a smile at the mention of her father. Vanessa rubbed the girl’s back in solidarity, a welcome attempt at comfort. Lillian returned the gesture with one of her own, her arm around Vanessa’s waist, head resting on her shoulder.
Miller continued. “We desperately need supplies, but don’t stray from the marina. Just because we don’t see those things right now doesn’t mean they’re not out there.”
“And what may I ask are we supposed to be looking for in the midst of all this wreckage, young man?” Lancaster asked.
“I know you are dead weight, but do you really need that question answered?” Soraya snapped.
“Vanessa and Markus are going to siphon as much fuel from the vehicles on the other side of the bridge as they can. The rest of you, pair up and look for supplies, anything that can be of use: life vests, rope, medical supplies, and food and water. Always be on the lookout for food and water. Oh, and you, Lancaster, will start pulling your weight or I’ll leave you on this dock,” Miller said confidently. “Do you understand me?”
“I was merely asking a question, son. There’s no need for bravado.”
“Punk ass soldier boy,” Damon whispered for the old man’s benefit.
Ayn was firmly with Damon and Lancaster. “I don’t like this.”
“Rendezvous back here in thirty minutes,” Miller said. “I don’t care what you’ve found or what you think you’re going to find. Drop what you’re doing and get back to the boat. We set sail at thirteen hundred hours. Hop to it.”
The crowd dispersed, slowly at first, but an urgency overcame most of them and they flocked to the nearest buildings in a mad dash as if someone had told them everything they ever desired lay beyond the next door. The soldiers, Marisol, and Sam didn’t participate in the looting; they patrolled the marina, weaving between buildings with a little less urgency than when they arrived earlier in the morning but with the same purpose, nonetheless.
Jeremiah poked his head into an ajar door. For a moment, he considered looking for something—anything. He reconsidered, though, as he knew it was futile. This whole place had been picked clean once too many. The sooner they launched, the better. He noticed Miller rounding a corner and took the opportunity to get a private word in. “I doubt we’ll find much here in the way of supplies, sir,” Jeremiah offered while pointing to the remains of heavily fortified buildings toward the town’s center. “Whoever was holed up in that building dug in deep, fr
om the looks of the nearby structures. They would have scavenged all they could.”
“Hard to tell with everything burnt to a crisp. Where do you suppose they all went?” Miller asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine, sir. They could have had a similar plan as us and sailed away, or for all we know, we’re looking at them now.” Jeremiah gazed to the infected shambling about in the distance. “With all of these haphazard barriers strewn about, I would guess whoever lived here had lived here for a while. They were the ones who picked this place dry.”
“Go on,” said Miller.
“It took me a few hours to realize it, but the barriers and the complete lack of supplies, on top of a burnt-out town—the people who lived here did this. They believed by trapping the carriers and setting them ablaze, their problems would be over.”
“But they didn’t expect a constant flow of the things to continue pouring in from all directions afterward,” Miller added.
“Precisely. They left the marina and surrounding buildings intact in hopes of relocating. But an unexpected surge of carriers forced them out to sea.”
“Taking an entire town’s worth of supplies with them.”
Dozens of carriers shuffled just beyond the barriers across the road, their faces twisted in agony, eyes filled with rage and resentment. It was as if on some base level they knew that Miller and his people would be gone soon, just as the ones before, and with them any chance of satiating their appetite.
“Oh, fuck,” Ryan shouted. He stumbled backward, dropping the flashlight as he fell to the ground. The cylinder rolled down the slight incline, casting large shadows upon the darkened boathouse. It came to rest against another carrier’s foot. Not a second later, the thing fell backward, crashing to the floor and taking half of Ryan’s well-stacked bottles with it.
Rachel stood just beyond the beast, checking the room for more threats. “Move!” she yelled.
Ryan scrambled to his feet. He grabbed what he could while Rachel continued laying down covering fire. She sent small three-round bursts into the darkness, hoping to keep any invisible threats at bay until Ryan made his way to safety. He was near the door when again he lost his footing. A strong arm yanked him off his feet. He was skidding on his back in front of the store when he saw Radzinski enter the darkness.
The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll Page 15
