by L. D. King
“William Pike here, what can I do for you, Chlöe?”
“William, do you know if the Melbourne Star is still in its berth at the docks?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it should be. They usually go through my office to let me know that they are taking it out. Did you want to use it?”
“I want to know whether anyone in our studio can pilot that ship. I’ve been watching news feeds from around the world, and it seems that the only place nearby that has not reported about the zombie killings is New Zealand. If we can find someone to sail the Star, I want to take the two ten-passenger buses out so we can leave for the harbor. We have 19 people in the building, counting the two of us. I want to move our people from the studio to the ship as fast as we can. I know that the Star is an ocean-going ship; I want to get everyone on it and sail to New Zealand as quickly as possible. We can’t stay in this building any longer. The water has been off for days, and the sewer has backed up. We need to get out of here. We need to go somewhere else, and New Zealand looks like our best choice at this time.”
“Chlöe, I can pilot that ship. I was a mate on it years ago. I worked my way up through the ranks to head of security. The captain took me out on my days off so I could learn. He’s coming up for retirement, and I wanted his job anyway,” he grinned.
“That ship is well maintained. It’s always fueled up and ready to go at a moment’s notice. We could easily cruise to New Zealand with what it has on board, and you can broadcast from the onboard studio if you so desire.”
“If the weather is not against us, it should take perhaps 100 hours to get there. Running at the best speed we can get out of that ship, we should be able to hold a top speed of 15 knots. That’ll give us about five days of running hard. If we get bad weather, it could cut us down to eight knots. That would mean an additional two or three days at sea, is all.”
“Okay, William. Get the buses ready to go, and we’ll leave in 30 minutes.”
The Melbourne Star was a 175-foot vessel that needed a crew of four plus the Captain. It was an ocean-going vessel that was powered by two large diesel engines. It carried 1,000 gallons of fuel, 800 gallons of drinkable water and enough food for a party of fifteen for 20 days on the water without replenishment. There were four passenger decks with the engineering and crew spaces below that. The lounge on the second deck had been turned into a broadcast studio. It could broadcast a signal to anywhere in the world via satellite.
William rounded up everyone in the studio and got them loaded into the buses, and they left the station building for the last time. They were driving to the dock where the Star was docked. Chlöe was in the lead bus with William. As they were driving, he told her, “I will use the staff as my crew. Of course, I’ll have to show them what their jobs are, but I think they’re mechanically qualified for the jobs that need to be done. This ship will nearly run itself. We need to put out to sea now, before we can’t go at all.”
“All right, William, you’re the captain. On board, your word is law. You pick the people you need, if there are any problems, tell them to talk to me. No, better yet, do we have a radio that we can contact the other bus with?”
William reached down to grab the radio. He contacted the other bus telling them to stand by for an announcement. He handed the mic to Chlöe.
“This is Chlöe Knetes in the first bus. I want you to put me on speaker so everyone can hear me on both buses.” Once he did so, she continued: “This is Station Manager Chlöe Knetes. You all know that I do not play. We are in a desperate situation. Our lives will depend on what we do from here on out. I need everyone to pull their weight when asked. When we get to the Melbourne Star, William Pike is the captain. He’s in charge. His word is final. Whatever he tells you to do is what he needs to be done. Period. If you’re asked to clean a toilet, then you’ll be cleaning a toilet. I don’t want to hear of anyone disobeying his orders.”
On the way to the docks, they could see zombies out hunting. The mutated bodies littered the streets. There was blood everywhere. From the van, they could look back to see that parts of Melbourne were on fire. The fire looked as if it had been burning for days.
As they arrived at the dock facility, the gate was locked, but no guard was on duty. Chlöe told William to ram the gate, and they drove directly to the Star’s berth.
Once they got to the dock, they saw about a dozen zombies coming towards the noise that they had made by ramming the gate. Chlöe told William to run them over. The buses had to get to the dock. There was no other choice. They got to the ship eighty meters ahead of the zombies.
“We don’t have much time to get the ship out into the harbor. William, you’re in charge.”
“Ok, I don’t need everyone to run to the ship. I need four strong men to help slip the lines off of the dock. I’ll come to the bridge after we get the engines started. We all have station-issued radios. I need you to tell everyone that if they do not have a job to do then stay the hell out of the way. Keep the radio traffic to ship operations only. No grab ass, no playing no nothing except to sit on their butts out of the way. This is not like a car. You don’ just get in, start the engine and go. It takes a bit of work. Ok.”
The four men that William selected to slip the lines were working together to get the Star away from the dock. William pointed at four other men and told them to follow him to the engine room. With their help, they could get the engines started and ready to power the ship out of the harbor.
After assigning each man his job, he showed them how to start the engines. He also told them what to do to the engines as they were under way. William ran back to the bridge and signaled the men on the dock to release the ship from its moorings.
With everyone on board, William headed the Melbourne Star out of the harbor. It was hard work, but they were able to get it done before the zombies had gotten too far down the dock. When they were clear of the harbor’s sea wall, he put the station broadcast board manager at the helm, telling him what he needed to do.
William went back down to the engine room to make sure everything was in order. He showed the men what was expected of them on their jobs. He told them that if any problems arose, to use the onboard hailer to call him. Then he went back to the bridge.
Since Chlöe had been on the ship before, she was in charge of assigning cabins. Everyone would have to double or triple up as there were too many people on the ship for everyone to be comfortable.
Chlöe told the broadcast personnel to get the studio online and ready to transmit as soon as they could. She wanted to be on the air in 30 minutes or less for an announcement to the world. Chlöe returned to the bridge. As she looked back towards the city she was shocked at what she saw.
“William! Look at the city! The fires have spread. The entire city is on fire! If the fires aren’t put out, Melbourne will burn to the ground.”
“Chlöe, without running water or firefighters to fight the fires, our city is lost,” William said. “We’re witnessing the end of Melbourne. It’s up to us to stay alive to report what we see. With this ship, it will take about eight to ten days to get to New Zealand. That is, if we don’t have any rough weather. The only harbor that’s deep enough for us to enter is Christchurch. It’s on the other side of New Zealand, so starting now, we are going to ration our food and water. The Star was outfitted with enough provisions for fifteen people for 20 days. We have 19 on board. It should only take us ten days to get there, so we should be fine, but just in case, we’ll start rationing now, so we won’t miss what we never had. Waiting until we are low on food or water to ration will mean all we accomplish is to starve everyone.”
Sailing through the Tasman Sea to New Zealand, they ran into some rough weather the next day at sea. The storm front was against them, pushing them back towards Australia. William had to run at full power to overcome the weather. It took everything that the Melbourne Star had to get to New Zealand. The closer to the island they got, the more the island acted as a wind break for th
em. The Star had been at sea for a full fourteen days when they rounded the southernmost point of New Zealand on the way to Christchurch. It was ADZ +33 days, and things were no looking too good.
Passing the southern point, they could make out several of the cities or larger towns from the sea. William called Chlöe up to the bridge to point Owaka, Dunedin, and Moeraki as they passed them. He showed her that they were currently on fire or had burned to the ground.
As they rounded the Akaroa point to enter the port at Christchurch, they could see that Duvauchelle on the ridge was burning. To make matters worse, as they neared the port of Christchurch, they could see thick columns of smoke rising before they could even see the city. The closer they got, the better they could see that the city was on fire, and it was raging out of control.
Christchurch was lost, just as Melbourne had been. Chlöe was on the bridge with William. She said, “Christchurch hasn’t answered our signal, and now I know why. The whole city is burning. From what I can see from here there is no one in the city. Everyone is either dead or has fled. What do we do now, William?”
“I was truly hoping that we could refuel as well as restock our supplies of food and water, but we can’t even enter the harbour. The docks are on fire. There is nowhere we can go. We do not know what may have been sunk that is lurking underwater waiting for us. If we strike a submerged object, we could rip a hole in our hull. We’d be stuck here with no way to get out.”
He looked out over the water. “Our only option is to return to Australia. Right now we don’t have enough fuel on board to make it all the way back. To get more fuel, we’ll need to stop in Tasmania. To make our food and water last as long as possible, we need to ration everything. You’ll have to shut down your studio, as it runs on a separate generator. We need that fuel. We’ll take the fuel from the lifeboats as well. If we have rough weather, we might not make it anywhere, so we’d better hope for good weather.”
He looked at the radar display on the bridge’s control center. “If the severe weather is at our back, it will blow us towards Tasmania rather than away. The only other option, if we miss Tasmania, is Antarctica, but this ship does not have the hull for the ice, nor do we have the clothing for the cold weather. I’m going to shut down everything not essential to the ship so we can try to make Tasmania. Help me shut down everything that’s non-essential to making this ship move. No showers, no cleaning. No anything that doesn’t help us get to Tasmania. We’ve run the ship pretty hard. I want to anchor offshore for the night so we can get some maintenance done before we leave for Tasmania.”
“That works for me,” said Chlöe. “You’re the captain. God help us to survive this trip. Will you allow me one short broadcast about New Zealand? I’ll make it less than five minutes.”
“That’s the last broadcast that this ship will make. When you’re done, shut everything down. Have someone pump the fuel out and move it to the ship’s main tank.”
With the news of New Zealand sinking in, everyone was in a state of shock. Knowing that there might not be enough fuel, food or water on board to get to Tasmania had everyone scared.
As they headed to Tasmania, the seas started to pick up. The wind was blowing towards them at a 15-degree angle to the bow. It was pushing them away from their destination, towards Antarctica. This used more fuel than they had for the trip. They ran out of fuel nearly 750 kilometers from Tasmania. They were now adrift at the mercy of the seas.
It had now been some five months, nearly six since they first broadcast their report about the first zombie killings back in Melbourne. It felt like it was so long ago. They had been drifting for three months now. The captain had rigged a sea anchor. This would help keep the ship’s bow turned into the wind. By doing this, they would be taken where the sea or the wind wanted to take them. The only good thing about the sea anchor was that it made it less likely that the Melbourne Star would be capsized by the waves.
By now the ship and crew had drunk all but about twenty gallons of the water. They were down to only two small cups a day each. The food was in the same state. They caught fish to supplement their food. It was the water that made it a living hell. When it rained, they caught the rainwater using all the canvas they had and stored it in barrels on the deck.
While at sea, several people had died. They were buried at sea, wrapped in canvas with a weight sewn in, and dumped over the side into the sea. Now, with the last of the water being rationed, the rest of them were not long for this world. They huddled in small groups. They talked about anything and everything. At times, some would agree that to be killed by the zombies would have been more welcome than to die at sea for lack of food and water. They drifted. They rocked on the waves. The ship felt so small with so much water around them.
They had taken most of the broadcast equipment and thrown it overboard. They wanted to make room to stay out of the sun. They wanted to have room to see if a passing ship was coming to help them. What they didn’t know was that their course was following the ocean currents.
They had missed Tasmania by only 89 kilometers. They drifted out into the Indian Ocean. Their only hope would be if they drifted close to one of the three small islands ahead of them. Unfortunately, the islands were either sparsely inhabited or not at all. The next closest land mass would be the southern tip of Africa. However, they wouldn’t live long enough to see it happen.
So they continued to drift. With no help forthcoming, they could see that the end was not too far away. No one was coming to rescue them. Soon their ship would be a ship of death. They would just be another statistic in the global battle against the zombies.
Chapter 15
New York
They’d been walking for three days since being scammed. They had found a little food that kept them going. Water was easier to deal with; it was starting to cool down, and with the cooling of the summer came the rain. They had the ability to collect rainwater. They even found more containers to carry the water in. If only it was that easy to find food, they would be fine.
On the fourth day since they had been robbed, Jerry noticed another group ahead of them. They followed them most of the day, staying out of sight. It looked as if they were going in the same general direction. They had made it through Garden City. When the other group set themselves up in a building for the night, the four found a secure building nearby. That night, from the building that the four had chosen, they saw a small fire where the other group was cooking. Jerry counted five people. They appeared to be a little older — perhaps in their early 20’s, Jerry guessed.
That night, Mike asked Jerry, “Have you been watching the other group?”
“Yeah, I’ve been keeping my eye on them. It looks like there are five of them. Somehow, they seem different than anyone else we met from the city. Should we take a chance and try to talk to them?”
“If you feel okay with it, Jerry, I guess I don’t have too much to say. I think we need to keep the girls out of sight until we know them a little better. Maybe take a walk with them, but I want to keep the street between us.”
“All right. Here is what I think we can do. I’ll go to the other street behind us. From there I’ll catch up with them. You guys can come down this street, but keep yourself far enough behind so they can’t see you,” said Jerry. “When I get ahead of them, I’ll come back to this street, coming out ahead of them. From there I can talk to them without you guys being seen. What do you think?”
“I think that’ll work,” Mike said. “I’ll find a place where the girls can hide out. I can come up behind them on this side of the street in case you have a problem with them. I won’t be very far away in case you need anything.”
“We’ll be up at first light. We should get everything packed up and ready to go. As soon as they leave, we’ll leave too. We can stay a few blocks behind them out of sight while you can do your thing on the other street. I’ll come up behind them as soon as you start talking to them.”
“I think that just might wo
rk. In fact, that’s a great plan. I’ll have the last girl on watch wake me an hour before the sun comes up. Let’s get some rest. We’ll need it tomorrow if this goes sideways on us. Who knows. They might turn out to be our next best friends.”
“Guys, we have a little food,” said Jennifer. “Let’s all eat a bite. Then we can start our watch while the others get to sleep.”
“Thanks, Jennifer. I’ll grab a bite and take the first watch,” said Mike. “Mary can follow me in two hours. Will that work for everyone?”
Everyone nodded in agreement. When the meager dinner was ready, Jennifer divvied out the food. They all ate in silence. Then everyone except Jerry got their bedding ready. Tomorrow would be a good day or a bad day. It all depended upon the unknown group.
As the sun rose, Jerry was getting everyone up so they could get ready. Mike was on watch, looking for the other group to leave the building where they had slept. A little way up the street, the other group left their building and started on their way.
Mike snapped his fingers. Jerry helped the girls load up what little they had to carry so they could get out on the street and start on their way. Jerry walked with the group for an hour or so. Then he kissed Mary, nodded at Mike and Jen, and crossed over to the side street. He was able to make good time using a parallel street to get ahead of the other group. They had walked another half an hour before Jerry came out ahead of them.
Jerry could see that there were five young people: three men and two women. They didn’t look much older than he was. Cautiously, Jerry stepped into the middle of the street ahead of them. He held both of his hands away from his body at waist height with his palms facing toward them, showing them that he did not have a weapon. Jerry called to them, “Hello there. I’m not here to hurt you. All I want to do is talk. I’ve been following you for a while. My name is Jerry. I’m trying to get to back home to East Norwich, out on Long Island. How are you doing?”
