by Tony Baker
“You’re right, my friend,” Harry replied, staring at the seemingly-pulsating mass of bodies that were packed around the fence and gate. “It seems as if we have definitely had luck on our side. It also feels as if I have been in the middle of this mess for months instead of just a couple of weeks.” Harry paused and looked at Derrick. “I’ll tell you something else that has been gnawing in the pit of my stomach. I think if we don’t get into open water soon that luck is going to give out.”
“I’ve had the same feeling for a few days myself, bro. But we’re almost there now,” Derrick replied as he tossed his wrapper and empty water bottle at a nearby trash can. He missed the wide opening on top of the can by at least a foot.
“I’m glad you shoot better than you play basketball!” Harry said with a laugh.
Derrick’s response was a single finger salute as he bent to pick up the trash, successfully getting it into the can on the second attempt. Harry followed suit with his empty wrapper and bottle. Old habits were hard to break, even in the middle of an apocalypse.
“Okay. Let’s get everybody gathered and head out. I hope that fence holds long enough for us to get the girls to safety, then come back for the rest of the supplies,” Harry said anxiously while adjusting the equipment he had strapped or clipped to his body.
“Let’s do it,” Derrick replied.
Walking the short distance back to the open rear doors of the truck, Harry got everyone’s attention, then motioned them out. “Let’s take a little stroll down the marina here and see when the next tour boat departs, shall we?” He smiled, attempting to ease the concern that was evident on Wanda and Nevaeh’s faces. Not to mention the apprehension that had taken firm hold of his own emotions.
“We’re ready, Harry,” Wanda said, returning his smile and cradling the Mossberg across her arm like a professional hunter. Harry knew she was trying to convey confidence to Nevaeh but it also helped him a great deal as well.
Harry looked at each person for a moment. “We’re going to proceed to the end of the dock and try to make contact with those folks on the boats,” he finally said. “Frank, you and I will lead. Wanda, you and Nevaeh will follow us, and Derrick will take up the rear. Nevaeh, if anything happens I want you to crouch down right away, okay? Out of the line of fire.”
“I will,” Nevaeh replied softly, flashing a quick thumbs up. Harry winked at her, then turned his focus back to Wanda.
“You stay in the middle and try not to shoot me in the butt,” Harry said to Wanda with a lopsided grin. Although he hoped she knew he was quite serious in that request.
“I’ll do my best, but no promises,” Wanda replied, shaking her head and emitting a short laugh.
Harry then directed his attention to Frank and Derrick. “Speaking of butts, you guys watch your own. We don’t have a clue what we’re going to find up there. Procedures are out the window from this point on. We are not going to take any more risks than we have to. If something even looks like a threat we take it out. Understood gentlemen?”
“You know rank suits you quite well. You should have done this a long time ago!” Derrick replied in a comical manner, giving Harry a very sloppy salute.
Frank was attempting to stifle an outburst of laughter and waved a hand to indicate he had understood.
Harry glared at Derrick for a moment, then said, “Okay boys and girls, let’s go.”
With that the five headed east, walking slowly toward the end of the harbor and toward the access to the moored boats, Harry and Frank in the lead, the girls in the middle and Derrick bringing up the rear. Each of the adults kept their heads on a swivel watching for any threats, each thinking that a mass of infected was sure to burst from behind a door to engulf them. But nothing set upon them as they closed the last hundred yards toward the small, gated entrance that would take them into the dock proper where the boats were berthed.
They had only taken a few more steps when suddenly more forms emerged from the edge of the heavy fog. Frank and Harry immediately stopped and brought their ARs to shoulder. Derrick had also seen the shapes coming toward them and moved up to join Frank and Harry. Wanda maintained her position but turned to keep watch for anything that might appear from the rear.
30
Although Harry had said they were not going to take chances going forward, his conscience would not allow him to simply open fire. “POLICE, STOP!” he shouted.
The forms were a bit more distinct now as they got closer; at Harry’s words they immediately froze in their tracks. All three men breathed a sigh of relief but kept their fingers on triggers.
“DON’T SHOOT! WE’RE NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS!” This came from a male voice in the group.
“I NEED YOU TO SLOWLY APPROACH WITH YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM YOUR BODY!” Harry shouted his command, then lowering his voice said to Frank and Derrick, “Watch them closely. They’ve been given their only chance here.”
Harry watched as four men approached, their features becoming clearer as they neared. He saw three younger men and one older. All four of the men had their hands up as they closed the distance.
“That’s far enough, gentlemen,” Harry ordered when the men were about ten feet in front of him.
The older man, a black male in his mid-to-late 60’s with thinning gray hair and neatly trimmed moustache, took in Harry, Derrick, and Frank. Almost as if he were inspecting them. Then addressing Derrick directly, he said, “I am glad to see you and your men, Sergeant.”
The man’s voice was not unfriendly but wasn’t overly hospitable, either. “I assume by the gunfire we heard that you removed that group of zombies, or whatever they are, that has been keeping us off the harbor. Those damn things are relentless. They hadn’t moved from the gangway entrance until they heard the brouhaha you and that fireboat created. No matter, damn glad to see you! My name is Cecil Fremont, Colonel U.S. Army retired.” Cecil had lowered his arms as soon as he began to speak, and stepped forward with his right hand extended to Derrick.
Frank and Harry had put their rifles at a low ready position as the colonel addressed them. Although appearing nonaggressive, the men could quickly bring the weapons back into firing position if things did not go well. The colonel gave them a glance, and Harry was certain that the message had been delivered quite clearly.
Derrick reluctantly shook Cecil’s offered hand as he glanced at Harry a bit sheepishly and said, “My name is Derrick Washington, sir, but I’m not in charge here. This is Lieutenant Harold Lancaster and Officer Frank Lewis.” Derrick nodded to the two men to his left. “Lieutenant Lancaster is the officer in charge.”
“I see,” Cecil said while looking directly into Harry’s eyes, then glancing at his collar. “My apologies, Lieutenant. I saw Officer Washington’s sergeant chevrons and assumed he was in command since I did not see rank on your uniform.”
Harry chuckled, thinking back to the conversation he’d with Derrick at the station while insisting he pin the chevrons on his collar.
“No apologies necessary, Colonel Fremont,” Harry said while extending his hand. “We’ve dropped the formalities given the recent turn of events. Please, call me Harry.”
Cecil shook Harry’s hand as he said, “I can appreciate that, Harry, and I’m Cecil. Who are these lovely ladies?”
Harry introduced Wanda and Nevaeh, then Frank. Cecil shook each person’s hand in turn and offered a few words of small talk. He was a very engaging person with an easy smile. Harry could see the tension visibly leave Cecil’s body as he briefly chatted with everyone.
“This is Walter, Bill, and David,” Cecil said as he introduced each man from his group. All were very tired-looking, visibly jittery, but friendly enough. It did not go unnoticed by Harry that each man, including Cecil, bore a weapon of some type tucked in their belts: a large hammer, a wrench, and two crow bars. “Walter and David actually worked at the San Francisco Yacht Club. Bill was on vacation in San Francisco, as I was. Since all of us are ex-military, we fairly quickly became a team of so
rts. Not much we could do with these weapons but they offered some sense of security among the other folks over there,” Cecil gestured toward the boats.
“How many people are with you?” Harry asked.
Cecil took a breath, releasing it while contemplating his reply. “There are one hundred twelve men and woman along with eleven kids. There were others, but we had an outbreak and had to deal with them. Unpleasant business that, but we had no choice. We had no idea initially what was going on and didn’t pay much attention to those coming in. Not that we know much more now, but we learned quickly that people can turn after being in close contact with those things out there. Some of the movies we have all seen are good guides, I suppose. If one of those things bites or scratches you, breaks the skin, you do become infected. I’ve watched it happen.”
Cecil stopped talking, gazing off into space and obviously remembering the events he was describing. Harry did not interrupt Cecil’s wool gathering as he had experienced those periods himself over the course of the past couple of weeks.
“So, Lieutenant Lancaster – Harry – what do you suggest here? Frankly, I am at loss,” Cecil asked, resuming the calm demeanor he had exhibited earlier.
Harry glanced toward his left and watched as the fireboat maneuvered to the entrance of the harbor, about three hundred yards out, then came to a stop by reversing its engines. He was trying to get his head around what Cecil had just told him. One hundred and twenty-three survivors were more than he had expected, having only seen a few dozen on the boat decks when they’d first arrived. He should have known that others would have been hiding inside the boats. Harry looked back to Cecil, who was patiently waiting for him to respond. Harry could see what he thought was a glimmer of hope in this man’s eyes, which did not help Harry’s comfort level at all. They had gotten this far, however, so he was determined to see this through to whatever end awaited.
“I saw an interview a few days after all this started about a group in Southern California and what they were doing. A guy by the name of Scott Allen outlined some very interesting information about the infected.” Harry spent the next several minutes or so explaining his plans. He also told Cecil what had happened on the fireboat in detail, and who was currently manning the boat. This included why Harry had felt it necessary to kill first, ask questions later.
“Initially we had no idea that we would find anyone on these boats when we arrived,” Harry resumed after letting what he had just told Cecil sink in a bit. “Although I wasn’t expecting so many, I don’t think this changes anything. There are obviously enough boats to get us out to open water and onto one of the islands. I think Alcatraz would be the logical choice right now, but I am open to any suggestions. We have weapons, ammunition, and other supplies on the truck that we should get as soon as possible. I’m concerned that fence is not going to hold much longer. If those things get through, we will have no choice but to abandon that stuff and I’d really prefer we didn’t.”
Cecil nodded his head in understanding. He looked back to the three men who had accompanied him and said, “Bill, you and I will take the ladies down to my boat. Walter and Dave, please get two of those maintenance vehicles you told me about so we can assist the officers with the supplies. I think that will make the transfer much easier and hopefully get everything in one trip.”
Walter and David sprang into action without comment. Cecil noticed the slightly perplexed expression on Harry’s face. “We have had some time to discuss our own plans, Harry. There are really good people here willing to do whatever it takes to survive this mess. Including listening to an old Army guy well past his prime who has become as much a reluctant leader as I believe you have.”
“No truer words, sir, no truer words,” Harry replied just as two small vehicles rounded the corner of a nondescript shed not too far from where the group stood. Walter was behind the wheel of one, and David the other. The vehicles were painted a dark green and looked very much like golf carts with extended flat beds attached. They must have been battered powered, as Harry could only detect a faint whirring sound as they approached.
Walter and David stopped the maintenance vehicles by the group. “Looks like these things have about a half charge each,” David said. “I think there’s enough juice left to get this done. With the weight of the stuff we need to pick up, whoever goes with us will have to walk back though.”
“This is great!” Derrick said with obvious relief. “It would have taken us some time to move all that equipment by hand.”
“Agreed,” Harry replied. “Cecil, are there folks in your group that can actually pilot those boats? The Bay can be treacherous, and we don’t need any additional distractions right now with rescues if someone gets into trouble out there.”
“Yes, I agree completely,” Cecil said. “Most of the folks here actually own the boats they are on. We placed anyone not familiar with boating with those that are. We’ve actually been ready to move for a few days, but were uncertain where to go.”
Harry nodded and thought for a moment before replying. “What I’d like to suggest is that we get the manned boats out of the harbor and into the Bay right now. Have them head toward Alcatraz. They should wait for us to clear the island, but they will at least be in position to start coming in. The dock on the island is small, so we will have to figure out the best way to have folks get off the boats.” Harry paused a moment, frowning. “Then there is the matter of what to do with all the empty boats. There is no way they could be left tied to the island’s dock, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to set them adrift. Guess we’ll figure something out when the time comes.”
“What do you think about having the fireboat ferry people out to the island?” Cecil asked.
Harry glanced toward the Phoenix that was now quietly sitting to the north of the harbor. He thought about Cecil’s suggestion, then said, “That would work, but I’m concerned with the time it would take. When those things break through the fence, and I’m convinced that will happen soon, that small gated area leading to the dock slips will not hold them back long.” Harry was referring to the small gate Cecil had pointed out earlier. He felt certain the infected would have no trouble breaching that, quickly allowing them to flood the area around the boats.
“I think we should have the boats get into the Bay. We’ll need a smaller vessel to load everything from here, then we can transfer the equipment onto the fireboat from that. Once we have the supplies secured we’ll head to Alcatraz.”
Without hesitation, Cecil said, “Sounds like a plan, Harry. I’ll go with the ladies and get everyone moving on the dock. There’s an old Swift Boat anchored to the side of the slips that I think would be ideal to haul the equipment.” Cecil was referring to a Patrol Craft Fast PCF vessel, better known as Swift Boats. The boats were all-aluminum, fifty-foot-long shallow-draft vessels operated by the U.S. Navy initially to patrol the coastal areas and to prohibit Vietcong movement of arms and munitions during the Vietnam War. “It should be able to get very close to the boat launch area at the end of the marina. She’s old, so I think they must have used her for Bay tours.”
“I can pilot it,” Bill said. “I’ve had a little experience with those boats.”
Harry glanced over to Bill and nodded in thanks.
“Time is of the essence, so I suggest we all get about what we need to do,” Cecil said as he turned to head back to the docks.
“Just a moment, Cecil,” Harry said, stopping the older man. He removed the Glock from its holster on his tactical belt, reversing the weapon with the grip facing Cecil. “You might want to hang onto this for now.”
Cecil accepted the weapon and looked it over a moment. “Glock 21,” he said while expertly releasing the mag, thumbing the top of the large .45 caliber rounds, then replacing it into the heel of the grip. He pulled the slide back just enough to ensure a round was chambered. “Nice weapon and excellent stopping power. I’m a P226 9mm man myself, but this will do in a pinch.” Cecil was referring to a Sig
Sauer model P226 9mm.
He laughed at the glower on Harry’s face and said, “Don’t get me wrong. A friend once said that a Glock ain’t pretty but it’ll get the job done. Maybe I should also take a couple of those extra mags there.”
“Oh hell,” Derrick said, attempting to stifle his own laughter.
“Great, I’m surrounded by comedians,” Harry said as he removed two of the extra mags from their belt case and handed them to Cecil. “You do know that weapon doesn’t have a safety, right?”
“I am well aware of that, young man,” Cecil replied with humor dancing in his eyes. “I will admit I’m somewhat of a horror genre enthusiast and read a great deal. I’ve always been amused with sequences in books where a character describes switching a Glock off ‘safe’. Too bad some writers don’t invest more time doing research.” Cecil tucked the weapon into the pocket of the coat he was wearing and placed the two extra mags in the opposite pocket. He lost all humor as he said, “I wonder if there will ever be new books written after all this.”
Harry could offer little solace to the older man. “I don’t honestly know, Cecil. But I do know we are going to do everything we can in the here and now. The future will just have to take care of itself for the time being.”
As an afterthought, Harry asked Derrick to give Cecil his radio and suggested that Cecil stay in close contact. Cecil took the hand-held radio and, after a brief explanation of its operation, gave the unit to Bill, who tucked it into a back pocket of his jeans.
Cecil glanced up to Harry. “I’ll also radio the Phoenix and make the proper introductions. Okay ladies,” he then said to Wanda and Nevaeh, “shall we?”
“Bill, I think you should take this,” Wanda said while handing him the shotgun and the extra shells. “I think you can probably use that damn thing better than I can.”
