by Lee Thomas
As quiet and peaceful as it seemed right now, I had to remember that this place should be bristling with people, cars, noise, planes, and animals. Norfolk was a large, busy city, and the naval base was no exception. The Event destroyed the planet, and if the reports we got from the other countries were accurate, something like 80% of the planet had either died or turned into those things.
“Admiral, Jeff is requesting your presence on the bridge immediately, please respond.” Crackled out of the radio, ruining my moment of pretending that everything was alright.
“This is Sheldon, what’s the problem?” I replied, kicking the horse into a trot.
“Unknown, sir, but whatever it is has Jeff extremely riled up. He has called for battle stations and ordered the base to be put on lockdown as well.” The radioman responded.
“Fine, tell him I’m on horseback, it will take a little time to get there, but I’m on my way. And have someone meet me at the pier to return the horse to the barn.” I ordered, placing the radio in the special pouch clipped to the saddle and urging the horse into a full gallop. I cut through grass as much as possible to save the horses hooves, but even so I had to run on concrete some. It took about ten minutes of hard riding to reach the pier gate, which opened for me as the guard saw me approach, then quickly shut behind me. Like I asked for, there was a sailor waiting near the stairs to take the horse, and I ran up the stairs headed towards the bridge. Other sailors were running into position towards the firing positions on the fantail with ammo runner’s right behind them.
“Report.” I ordered as soon as I walked through the door to the bridge. I was out of breath so I held on to the nearest workstation edge to catch my breath.
“Radar reports incoming aircraft, two of them.” Jeff told me, handing me the report.
“Aircraft? From where? What’s their heading?” I panted.
“The path they are on seems to indicate they came from somewhere north. If they are from overseas, they could have made fuel stops in Greenland, Iceland, or somewhere in the northern New England states. There are plenty of airfields they could’ve gotten fuel from fairly safely.” Johnson answered. He was one of the former sailors, and still preferred to go by his last name only.
“With their current altitude, the only thing we can be sure of right now is that they did not stop at Andrews near DC. They are also in somewhat of a search pattern, going back and forth. Not so much a full zigzag pattern, but definitely a sweeping motion. Here, look.” Chief Allen chimed in. he was the one watching the radar screen, and he pointed out the track to me.
“Searching for what, is the question.” I said out loud, but more to myself. “Continue to track them. The ship and base have both been put on alert, correct?” I asked, looking over at Jeff.
“Yes, but the question is, do we try to contact them, ignore them, or shoot them down?” Johnson asked.
“That is the question, isn’t it? What if they are survivors, looking for help, or to help? I would hate to shoot down innocent people, wouldn’t you?” I replied.
“On the flip side of that, if they are hostile, do you really want to let them know we are here?” Jeff asked.
“That’s what I’m questioning now isn’t it? How do we find out if they are hostile, or friendly, without contacting them? We could just ignore them, let them continue their search pattern and then go about their way; or we could radio them without letting them know exactly where we are and have them land on the air base to the south. Suggestions?” I said, looking around the room. I knew what I wanted to do, what I thought I should do, but I figured I would get others input as well.
“I say we radio them. Isn’t that the whole reason of your little plan here after all, to find and protect survivors?” Johnson replied.
“I say we radio them as well. That was the biggest part of your plan when you started this thing.” Jeff told me.
“We could ignore them, watch the flight pattern, only radio them if they change course and appear to notice us.” Chief Allen suggested.
“Christian, your thoughts?” I asked. Christian was the Lieutenant in charge of the sailors when we got here, but he didn’t want to keep the job, which is how I ended up with it. I still got his opinion though because the crew did trust him.
“I’m with Jeff and Johnson on this one, I say contact them.” he replied after a few moments thought. A few other sailors were standing around as well, and as I looked around the room they started nodding their approval of the plan too.
“Alright, let’s talk to them. Radio, get them on. Send it to the mic here when you do.” I stated finally. Gary, the sailor on radio duty today, stepped back into the radio room to do just that. Everyone else stood around, the tension in the room getting thick with anticipation while we waited for answers. I reached up and grabbed the mic, ready for when Gary told me we were contacted.
“Sir, they replied, you’re on.” Gary shouted from the radio room.
“Unknown aircraft, this is Sheldon Friend, leader of a small survivor group you are flying near. Please identify yourself and your intentions.” I keyed into the mic.
“My name is Grigori Orlov. My fellow pilot is Robert McClandon. We are from the survivors that were evacuated to Great Britain as everything else fell. We are low on fuel, requesting permission to land and refuel if possible.” Came the voice from the radio. It was a Russian voice, and I had heard from the leaders of the other countries that there had been survivors found and evacuated, so it was plausible.
“There is an airport near us that still has an intact fence. It’s the Norfolk International Airport, and we could meet you there, help you refuel, and help make sure you’re safe while on the ground.” I replied after a quick, silent conversation with the others gathered around.
“Thank you, we will be landing shortly.” Grigori answered. The radio clicked off then, so I replaced the mic.
“Alright, I don’t want to tip our hand too much, so load up two teams into the Humvees, fully armed. Get the attack bird crews on standby, if they turn hostile I want them taken out, fast. If they are friendly, I want to bring them back and go from there.” I ordered. The sailors on the bridge immediately sprang into action, the chief making the announcement for attack chopper crews and the ground teams to report and prepare. I heard another on the phone with our personnel department, asking them to prepare the trailer bunkrooms for visitors. We had three small trailers set up in the hangar bay for new survivors to have a place to sleep and feel safe while they decided if they were staying or not. If these people in the planes ended up coming here, it would be nice to have a place for them to relax, especially seeing as they had probably been on those planes for a while.
“Chief, send word to the ground team that I want a sit rep sent back before they head back with the survivors, if that ends up being the plan.” I told the chief, who nodded and picked up the phone. He passed the order on to the ground team leader, who would pass it on to the team leader who would be going. We would decide after speaking with them whether they were friendly or hostile. I left Chief Allen in charge and headed out to flight deck to think. It would be some time before they landed, and even longer before we knew if they were friendly or not. Before leaving, I asked the radioman to send a message to our contacts in Ireland and Great Britain to confirm the story of the pilot, and to notify me immediately of what their answer was.
“Think they are friendly? We have had enough infected attacks lately that we really don’t need to have to be fighting regular people too.” Kevin asked, walking up behind me as I gazed out over the base.
“I don’t know Kevin, but I sure hope so. I’ve got a bad feeling about this though, but I’m not sure if it’s the planes, or something else, I’m just getting a sour feeling in my gut that this is not going to end well.” I replied to him. We stood there and watched, hearing the planes as they passed by, heading towards the airport. They were low enough we could see them, but I doubt they could see us on the flight deck. I stayed there u
ntil they landed and we could no longer see or hear them. I figured it would be probably the better part of two hours until we heard from our ground team, so I headed back down to my office to plan the next steps.
“Let’s go, those planes will be landing soon, I want to have wheels on the road in no more than an hour.” Ryan, the ground team leader shouted. The APC’s, or armored personnel carriers, they were taking were already waiting on the pier, fully gassed with extra cans secured on top, just waiting on the team. The last few stragglers were jogging up through the hangar bay, clipping harnesses and buckles, checking weapons and ammo, making sure everyone had everything they needed. As the men gathered around Ryan, he checked his clipboard for names.
Ryan began a roll call, calling out names one a time, waiting for a response from each. Once each man and woman was accounted for, they headed down the steps towards the waiting vehicles. Since each APC could hold up to twelve people, and they were expecting to bring some back from the planes, there were three waiting vehicles, but only fifteen people on the team. The team split up, five to a vehicle, for space and safety if one broke down. Ryan climbed in the lead truck and radioed to the rest to head out. They filed out single file, the modifications the mechanics made keeping the engine noise to a minimum. They made it to the eastern main gate after about twenty minutes, the guards swinging it open to allow them out. The tension rose as soon as they passed the gate, knowing that outside was still dangerous, even inside the vehicles. It was close to being dark, so the mutated infected would be coming out soon more than likely.
The airport wasn’t far, but with the amount of wrecked and stalled cars, plus the roadblocks they had set up, travel was never very fast by road this close to the base. It was deliberate so that any people who wanted to attack the base couldn’t drive a truck or large vehicle fast enough to wreck through the wall. Some infected were out, shuffling around, turning to look at the trucks once the sound or movement caught their attention. Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to themselves, no one fired at the few infected that had noticed them so far, deciding to let them chase. The team would either lose them since they were slow, or deal with them later with the swords and knives. The lead truck came to a halt, stopping the entire convoy shortly before Ryan came on the radio.
“Listen up, we just got an update. The pilots reported that the airport was overrun, apparently, the fence broke and infected are crawling all over the place. They decided to go to the naval air base further south. Our mission remains the same, our location is just changed. Everyone hold on, we are heading that way.” Ryan informed them. His truck then lurched forward again towards a turn off to head south for the naval base. They continued on with no real problem, but the infected started getting thicker as they traveled. They hadn’t seen a concentration of infected this thick in quite some time, so the team started speculating on whether there was something holding them in this area and that’s why they hadn’t been seen at the base.
The drive was still somewhat uneventful, the vehicles running over the few infected that walked in the way, and ignoring the rest. The roads were mostly clear, most of the stalled or abandoned vehicles being pushed to the side over the years of search and rescue runs, as well as supply runs when the group first got to the ship. The naval base was quite a bit further than the civilian airport, so by the time the convoy reached the gate of the airfield, the sun had gone down enough for it to be dark. Two men got out of the lead truck and opened the gate, waiting for all the trucks to pull through, then closing it behind them. The fence looked intact as far as they could all see, but that didn’t guarantee safety.
Rolling through the unfamiliar base, they moved slowly, looking for the signs to point them to the airfield itself, as well as watching for any infected that might be wandering around. The hope was that the air base was still secure so they wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked while speaking with the new arrivals. Several empty vehicles were scattered around the streets, trash blew all over, and the once manicured grass was overgrown and wild. They saw a couple of trees that had fallen over, one of which was blocking a side street almost completely. Bodies were fallen in the street and on the sidewalks, which spoke to the fact that the base at some point had been over ran with infected, but now seemed to be clear.
“Heads up, the gate to the airfield is just up ahead, and it appears to be closed and intact.” Ryan’s voice came over the radio. All the men and women started checking their gear one last time, making sure buckles and latches were tight, guns were loaded and ready to fire, and then they checked each other for safety. Last minute plans were made, talking amongst themselves, figuring out what each member of the team was going to do so that all directions were watched and nothing could sneak up on the team. They opened the gate, drove through, and then shut the gate behind them once more and continued to the planes. Driving around the building finally the planes came into view, parked on the taxiway, near the main concourse which was more than likely were the fuel truck would be located. They knew which planes were the ones they were looking for as the engines were still winding down. As they approached, the loading ramps lowered and several men and women filed out. It appeared that there was only five in each plane, and Ryan assumed the pilots had not come out yet, so potentially two more in each plane, a group total of 14. Space would be tight, but manageable to return everyone to the ship. Pulling the vehicles into a small ring around the closest planes ramp, the team got out and began scanning the area.
“My name is Ryan Quinn, it’s good to meet you guys, and gals.” Ryan said, walking up to the closest person and shaking their hand.
“Kyle Rowan, this is Erica Bugatti, Samantha Crowley, and Tommy McKennan. The rest are gathering supplies in the other plane right now. We were sent to look for survivors, and we were told that there was a large group along the coast somewhere. I guess you are it.” Kyle introduced himself and the ones standing with him.
“That would be us, yes. Our leader, Sheldon Friend, sent us to check you out, see if you were going to be friendly, or hostile. If friendly, we are to take you back to the base, show you around, and keep you safe. If not, well let’s just say it would be short on conversation.” Ryan replied. Kyle threw his head back and laughed, catching himself as he realized how loud it was.
“Well, I was always told Americans were not that honest, but that’s about as honest as you can get. In the spirit of that honesty, we were given the task to find a place to start a colony here to take the country back. Any survivors were supposed to be given the choice to join us, or we take them out. I would love to meet your leader, this Sheldon, so we can report back to our leaders and see where we all go from there, sound fair?”
“Fair enough. Let’s load up and head that way. Now that it’s dark the mutants will be coming out. It’s a dangerous time to be out, so let’s make it quick, shall we?” Ryan said. The newcomers had gathered around by then after arming themselves, and following Ryan’s lead, both teams loaded up in the APC’s. Kyle informed them that the pilot, co-pilot, and one guard always stayed on the planes, and they would make sure the planes were refueled and ready to go when they got back. Once everyone was loaded, and the plane ramps were raised again, Ryan radioed for movement, and all three vehicles started moving.
Following the same path out they took to get to the airfield, the team rolled through the empty streets as silently as possible, but the engine noise was sure to draw infected anyways. The newcomers made small talk with the team, trying to get to know one another, and the team did their best to answer questions and get to know them in return. Both teams seemed to mesh well so far, but tension was still in the air due to where they were.
“Alright people, heads up, we’re nearing the outer gate. Once through here is where it will tricky, so keep your eyes open.” Ryan’s voice came over the radio just before the vehicles slowed to allow someone out to open the gate. Once everyone was through, the rear truck stopped to allow the three guards back in, and th
en they accelerated to catch up with the other two. The convoy rolled steadily through the streets, the lights shining a blazing path through the dark, occasionally showing glowing eyes crossing the street, or off to the side. Some of those turned out to be animals, the random raccoon, dog, cat, or possum, but others were taller, and decidedly more dangerous. Infected lurched into the street chasing the lights and the sound, the ones making it into the street getting ran over, the others being ignored.
Back on the ship, the duty officer was handing me a report along with a cup of coffee. I smiled as I took the cup, raised it in a salute for thanks, and glanced at the report. Ryan apparently thought the others were friendly, so I got him on the radio and instructed him to bring them in. After replacing the mic, I called down to have the temporary trailers made ready so the new team would have a place to sleep tonight. I chatted with the duty officer, an ensign named Jacob Peters, for a few minutes and finally left with instructions to let me know when they made it back to the base. I still liked to greet new arrivals in person if possible. I was worried about supplies if they stayed, however, as we were already starting to get stretched thin. Even with our hunting parties bringing in a steady supply of meat, and the small farming capability we had, food was not too much of an issue, but we weren’t overflowing with food either.
