by Scott W Cook
“Indeed,” Caesar said, “It’s too bad our friend here isn’t talking.”
Cleopatra was about to chuckle but the sound died in her throat. Another sound could be heard in the chamber. A sound that shouldn’t be heard.
It was the sound of stone scraping against stone. The two visitors looked at each other and then the sarcophagus.
As they watched, their mouths wide and their hearts beating a tattoo in their chests, the lid began to swing open.
Chapter 9
From the personal journal of Samuel R. Decker
We all piled into my truck and drove over to Fish Tails. Seems kind of silly, considering it’s only four blocks, but I wanted to conceal our origins. So I went out to Fourth Street and came straight down Fifteenth Avenue.
Everything was exactly as we’d left it. Nearly two hundred zombie corpses were strewn over the gravel parking lot along with the two big piles near the restaurant’s entrances. The smell hadn’t improved as the sun had risen toward its zenith either, I can tell you.
I guess the small box truck was our new friends’. The back door was open and Tara and Brenda sat in it, their legs swinging. Carl and Hector were just coming out of the kitchen with a couple cases of canned goods. Mark was straddling a Harley Davidson with his rifle laying across his lap.
That tweaked me a bit. Somebody had to stand guard, but it figured that he’d be the one to sit back while the others worked. And to ride around on what must be one noisy bike was just another indication to me of how much of a shit for brains this guy was. I didn’t want him with us, but I supposed that if we got the rest, we’d have to take him too.
We jumped out of the truck and Tony and I went over to help Hector and Carl.
“We’ve got it,” Carl said, “There are a few cases of beer left in there, if you guys want to grab them for yourselves.”
“Hey Andy!” Tara called as she and Brenda hoisted the boxes into the back of the truck.
I nudged the kid, “See?”
“Hey Tara,” Andy said, going over to the truck, “Can I give you a hand?”
“We’re good,” Brenda said, “This is the last of them.”
“Maybe Andy can help us arrange things though,” Tara suggested.
Andy smiled and climbed up into the truck, “My pleasure.”
Good man. Friendly confidence.
“It’ll give you a chance to show off for Tara,” Brenda said with a grin.
Andy blushed but smiled broadly, “Naturally.”
Brenda jumped down and came over and joined the rest of her group along with us. Hector lit a cigarette and asked, “So what’s the plan, meng?”
“We’ve found a working deck boat already,” I said, “Any ideas on your end about that?”
“Yeah,” Carl said, “Like Tara said this morning, there are a couple in our neighborhood.”
“Have you checked them out?” Tony asked.
“Not really…” Brenda said a little sheepishly.
Andrea narrowed her eyes, “What’ve you guys been doing for the past three hours?”
They all looked at Mark. He frowned when Brenda said, “Arguing.”
“For fuck’s sake…” Tony grumbled.
Tara and Andy appeared in the open door of the truck and jumped down. Tara raised her hand and said, “I checked a couple of them out, Sam.”
Andy beamed and I smiled at her, “Did they crank up?”
“One did,” She replied, “I found the key hidden on board. Not a bad boat, maybe twenty feet. One of them was pretty rough… and the third looked in good shape, about the same size but I couldn’t find a key anywhere. The gas tanks were empty, too.”
“That’s okay,” I replied, “We can hotwire it and put some gas in. So that gives us three boats. Not bad, not bad at all.”
“What about when we get to Tampa?” Hector asked, “We’re just gonna walk?”
“I don’t’ like that idea much,” Mark groused.
“Me either,” Andrea admitted.
I nodded, “yeah… but driving is probably out, unless the roads are better than we think and we can grab a couple of vehicles.”
“What about bikes?” Andy suggested, “We can take enough bikes for everybody and they won’t take up much space on the boats.”
“Spoken like an officer,” Tony said with a grin.
I could see Andy’s chest puff up and caught a quick admiring glance from Tara. I suppressed a grin, “Yeah, good idea. I’ll bet we can round up a few bikes with no sweat.”
“So how do we do this, Captain?” Brenda asked.
I frowned and hesitated for a moment. I did have an idea of how to split us up but I didn’t think this group would like it. Based on what I’d seen this morning, I had no confidence in their ability to shoot or to maintain discipline.
“No big ideas?” Mark asked sarcastically, “Figured you knew it all.”
I shot him a withering look and said, “There are nine of us. That means three to a boat, which works out nicely. But with all due respect… I’m not sure about how you guys will do under pressure. From what I saw this morning, you tend to waste a lot of ammo and have poor fire discipline, as I mentioned. And the arguing…”
That earned me a round of scowls but I held up a hand, especially before the idiot could open his big mouth, “It’s not unusual and it’s even understandable. But the fact remains. So I’d like to make this suggestion. Tony will take one boat with Andrea and Mark. I’ll take a second with Carl and Brenda and Andy will command the third with Tara and Hector.”
Andy’s eyes went wide and Tara gave him another appreciative look. I was glad for that but it wasn’t my primary reason for putting him in command.
“So you guys run the show and we’re just along for the ride?” Mark asked.
“We run the show and you guys are along for support and to share in the haul… unlike this morning where we weren’t,” I corrected sternly, “Anybody who’s got a problem with that, speak up now. Hector, do you have an issue with taking orders from a young man like Andy?”
Hector paused and then said, “No, he seems like a good guy and I know he can shoot. But why put him in charge and not his mom?”
Andrea looked at me as well with the same question in her eyes.
I grinned, “I know Andy has good boat handling skills. He’s a crack shot and is very good at taking orders. Second the three of you are closer in age and I thought it would give your team a better unit cohesion.”
Carl and Brenda shrugged and said they were fine with the arrangement. I looked to Mark, “I’m sure you have a problem with this. If so, you’re welcome to stay behind.”
Mark scowled and shook his head, “No way. This is too good to pass up.”
“Okay,” I replied, “It sounds like Tara knows a bit about boats. Anybody else able to drive one?”
Mark scoffed, “All my life.”
Carl and Brenda exchanged looks and Hector only smiled.
“Good,” I said, “Then you guys bring your boats over this way. We’ll rendezvous at the mouth of Salt Creek, in front of the airport area. We’ll raft up, transfer crew and then head over. I’d offer to come back and help with hotwiring the boat, but I know you still want to keep your location secret and that’s cool. I suspect Mark can hotwire a boat, am I right?”
“No sweat.”
I nodded, “its twelve-thirty now. Let’s say fourteen hundred for the meet. Bring rifles, extra ammo, food and water for at least two days in a back pack each if you have them.”
“Aye aye, skipper!” Carl said with a smile.
As we piled into the truck, Andrea turned to me, “I appreciate that you’re trying to get my son laid—“
“True,” I admitted and shot a grin toward Andy in the back seat.
“—but why have me and Tony in one boat with only Mark?”
“I don’t trust that prick,” I said, “And he’s less likely to pull some stupid shit with both of you there. I have a bad feeling about him
. I know that Tara likes Andy and Hector likes her and seems to like Andy too. And as I said, I trust he’ll make a good captain.”
Andy blushed, “Thanks, Sam.”
“He’s just telling the truth, big man,” Tony said, clapping a hand on the kid’s shoulder, “You’re coming along well. In fact, maybe we ought to make him more official, what do you think, Sharky?”
“Turn him into a real squid?” I asked with a broad grin, “At least for what it’s worth anymore? Yeah, I’m down with that. Unless his mom would rather he be a jar head.”
Andrea smiled, “Either way, I think it’s time for my boy to earn his rank.”
“I’m cool with the Navy,” Andy replied with a grin, “Maybe I can be both.”
“Very well,” I said, ‘I’ve got an idea. As of right now, Mister Summers, I’m promoting you to the rank of full Lieutenant.”
“Damn…” Andy muttered.
Tony squeezed his shoulder again, “Right to o3… nice job, kid.”
“Thanks,” Andy said in a small bewildered voice.
“I know,” I continued, “There’s no more navy or anything. But for what it’s worth, and if we meet any other military people, we’re going to treat it as the real deal. You good with that, Lieutenant?”
Andy puffed his chest out, “Yes sir!”
I put the boat in neutral and we idled just north of the entrance to Salt Creek in front of the now defunct Albert Witted municipal airport. It was a beautiful day, barely a cloud in the sky, maybe sixty-five degrees out and Tampa Bay was nearly flat calm. And it was so empty… like the rest of this world, the emptiness was pervasive. You could feel it and if you dwelled on it too long, it could be amazingly depressing.
“Here they come,” Andy said, pointing south.
Just passing the mouth of big Bayou about a mile away were two deck boats running side by side at a good clip. They had the bone in their teeth… at least what passed for a foaming bow wave on a pontoon boat. Probably making twenty knots or more.
“Not very cautious,” Andrea commented.
I nodded, “No. Luckily these deck boats draw very little water. But you never know what might be sunken in the channel now. Another reason we’re taking command.”
Tara was at the wheel of one of the boats with Hector and Mark was driving the other with Carl and Brenda on board. After a few minutes, the boats idled down and pulled to either side of us where Andrea and Tony passed a line and lashed them together.
“All set, Sam,” Brenda said, “We’ve each got a rifle and sidearm with three extra clips for each. It’s not much, but pretty much all the ammo we’ve got left.”
I nodded, “should be fine, for now. We brought an ammo box with 5.56 and some extra mags so we can give you a bit more. Are you all okay with food and water?”
They each held up a good sized knapsack. Not a military ruck, more like a kid’s school backpack, but decent sized.
I nodded, ‘Let’s get a move on.”
Andy climbed aboard Tara’s boat and Tony and Andrea went aboard Mark’s as Carl and Brenda stepped onto mine.
Andy was reaching for the line that held our two boats together when I held up a hand. He looked at me questioningly.
“Attention to orders,” I said and Tony and Andrea snapped to attention behind me.
Andy looked a bit confused but he stood to attention as well. Straight as an arrow, shoulders back and chest out.
I grinned, “Mister Summers, raise your right hand and repeat after me. ‘I, Andrew Summers, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.’”
Andy repeated the words with a little expression of bewilderment still on his face. I smiled, “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
“And may God have mercy on your soul,” Tony blasphemed with a big grin on his face.
I heard Mark scoff behind me but ignored him, “I don’t have a rank pin to give you now, and since we’re not in uniform, it doesn’t matter anyway. But we’ll make sure you get a set of railroad tracks soon. However, there is a tradition which must be observed and I’d like to ask Ms. Tara if she’d help me out.”
Tara eyed me questioningly.
“When an officer is promoted,” I continued, “it’s traditional for a woman to pin on his new rank insignia and kiss him. Would you do the honors, Tara?”
Tara grinned broadly, stepped up to Andy and planted one on him that made me want to blush. The kiss lasted several long seconds and she stepped back with a smile and a giggle at Andy’s flushed face, “My pleasure, sir.”
Everybody applauded and woo-wooed except Mark, I think but I didn’t turn to look. Fuck him.
“Now that the bullshit is over,” Mark groused, “Can we get on with this?”
I turned and leveled a hard stare at him, “I take it you never served, so you wouldn’t understand. To some of us, these ceremonies actually mean something. If you don’t agree, then at least do us the courtesy of keeping your fucking mouth shut.”
Mark bristled and was about to respond when Tony held up a hand, “Let’s get a move on.”
I handed Andy and Andrea a hand held VHF, “I’ve set these to channel eleven and we’ll use them as long as we’re on the water. Everybody good? Then let’s shove off. Form line astern. I’ll take the vanguard, Tony behind me and Andy in the rear.”
I had two basic options. We could travel north along the land until we reached the Gandy Boulevard Bridge and follow that across or just take a rum line course from where we were to the Tampa side of the bridge.
The first option, while much longer, allowed us to keep close to the shore and stay relatively inconspicuous for a while. Although at this point who would even take notice? The second option, which I chose, was faster and took us through deeper water as well.
If it weren’t for the fact that the world had for all intents and purposes been eaten by zombies and that you never knew what crazy ass survivors were going to start shooting at you… this would’ve been a fun outing. Cruising on Tampa Bay in some pontoon boats, cracking a beer, listening to some tunes, peaking at the girls in their bikinis…
Amazing what you take for granted in a world that hasn’t gone insane… and what you miss after the insanity has manifested itself.
I kept our speed fairly low, just in case, and it took about forty minutes to traverse the dozen or so miles from just south of downtown Saint Pete to Tampa’s foot of the Gandy bridge. As we got close, I slowed to an idle and put the boat in neutral.
There wasn’t much of a landing here. There was a rocky embankment that led from the edge of the grass near the road down into the water. The jumble of rocks was steep but climbable. I nosed the deck boat up to it and had Carl lay the anchor out forward and wedge it into a crack between two large rocks.
“What about wave action?” Andy asked as he idled up next to me, “The boats could get pretty beat up.”
I nodded, “yeah. It’s pretty calm now, though… Okay secure your port bow to my starboard quarter and then I’ll have Tony do the same to your boat. Then he’ll lay a stern anchor out and keep us all pointed away from shore. That should take care of any minor waves that wander by”
Tara lashed our two boats tightly together with a dock line and Andrea did the same to Andy’s boat. Tony put his boat in reverse and angled us all straight out from the shoreline and Andrea threw their anchor and tightened it up.
“Let’s get the bikes ashore and we’ll proceed in the same groups,” I said, “Three fire teams, same order. Tony, Andy and I are in charge.”
I expected Mark to bitch about it but he didn’t say anything for a change.
We formed a hand off line and passed each bike across the boats, up the bank and
set them on their kickstands, if they had one, near the road.
The Gandy was as bad as we figured, with tightly packed cars leading into Tampa and back across the bridge toward Saint Pete. There was no way you could drive it, at least at this point.
Although there was silence along the four lanes of traffic, it wasn’t exactly still. There were a surprising number of cars whose drivers had obviously turned sometime during the traffic jam. Pale gray and partially rotting faces stared out at us from dozens of vehicles as we worked. I don’t mind admitting that it was pretty fucking creepy.
Fortunately, the outbreak had taken place during the summer. This log jam of cars, trucks, tractor trailers and anything else you could think of probably happened in July or August at the latest, so just about every vehicle window was closed, there living occupants having used their air conditioning.
The two unexpected shots made me jump a little. They were like thunderclaps in this eerily silent world.
I turned to see Mark standing next to a pickup truck. Its windows had been down and two zombies sat inside, their heads lolling to one side from the impact of Mark’s 5.56 rounds.
“What the fuck!” Andrea all but shouted at him.
“What?” Mark asked snidely as he peered into the truck bed, “They were getting all riled up and the windows were down. Figured I’d better take them out.”
The guy actually sounded proud of himself.
“What do you want, a medal?” Andrea asked as she stalked toward him, her fists balled, “They couldn’t have gotten out. Even if it was a possibility, you should’ve told one of us. We’ve got silenced weapons and sub-sonic rounds.”
“So?” Mark asked with a sneer.
“So,” Andrea snapped, stopping in front of him. She was at least six or seven inches shorter but she was leaning forward into his personal space. Typical marine, “So you just alerted every living and un-living thing within several miles of us that we’re here. You just blew our chances of a stealthy approach, you dumb shit! Not to mention the fact that you didn’t receive permission to use your weapon.”
“Permission? Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?” Mark asked nastily, “You don’t order me around. I ain’t no marine in your chain of command or whatever. I don’t need to ask you for shit!”
