by Dave Brown
Chapter 5
HMS Illustrious, fresh from a major refit, was ordered to rendezvous with an American carrier battle group off the coast of Morocco. They would be receiving new orders at that time, and the rumor mill had already started. The general consensus was that they would be headed to the Gulf. Barely twenty-four hours out of port, Chief Petty Officer Stoneham began monitoring odd messages over the wireless.
“Mr. Stoneham, report please,” said his superior, Lieutenant Montrose.
“Sir, I’ve been hearing a lot of bizarre stuff on civilian frequencies. Something about riots or bandits. People being attacked in the streets.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere, sir. All over Britain, or at least the corner of it I’m monitoring.”
“Mr. Lorie, anything about this on naval frequencies?”
To Stoneham’s left, his fellow signalman looked confused. “Not a thing, sir, just standard chatter all morning. I was about to,” and then he paused, putting a hand to his ear. “Getting something now sir. They want to speak with the captain.”
#
A knock sounded on the door to the bridge and Errol started. He hurried to the hatch, unlocked it and took a tray from Barbara. “Thank you,” he said, and quickly shut the door as she tried to peer around him at the new arrival. The tray contained only a mug of water and a small salad, but Stoneham accepted it graciously. A day and a half without food must have left him anything but picky. Errol waited patiently for him to finish before he said, “You were saying, about the captain?”
Stoneham swallowed the last of the water and took a moment to collect himself. “Yes, Captain Raleigh. He got on the headset, and immediately went pale. He jotted down something on a pad and then left the bridge rather in a hurry. One of our rescue birds lifted off not long after and headed back toward home. I've always thought they were sent to rescue royal family members or something, but they came back with only the pilot and medic. We heard a good deal from them about the so-called riots.”
Errol nodded, unsurprised. “Go on.”
“The captain kept trying to raise high command but never got through again after that first call. We tuned into the news instead and soon the whole crew knew what was going on.” He paused and looked out at the aircraft carrier. “It was touch and go for a bit. A good deal of the crew wanted to fly back, swords drawn as it were, and very nearly mutinied when the captain ordered everyone to stay at their posts.”
“Nearly mutinied. How did he keep them in line?”
Stoneham shrugged. “He is ... was a persuasive man. He helped us understand that it was already over.”
Errol nodded. “What next?”
“Simple really, we carried on. When shipboard supplies began to run low we started taking excursions to the mainland, loading up the bigger birds with supplies while the smaller ones held off the creatures. It worked brilliantly. We probably could have continued that way indefinitely.”
Errol smiled, “But.”
Stoneham smiled back, “Yes. But.”
#
Captain Raleigh stared at the speaker, listening to the static. “Come on,” he muttered. Stoneham was just as tense. He looked out the window at the yacht drifting to port. It was a large boat, and one of Lusty’s Sea Kings perched neatly on its helicopter pad. Moments earlier an armed team had disappeared below decks, looking for survivors.
A voice drifted from the speaker. “Illustrious, this is alpha team. Several bodies aboard, all of them shot dead.”
Stoneham glanced at the captain, and could tell he was barely containing his anger. It was understandable. They had found many similar ships and boats over the last year. Always the crew had been executed, and the vessel stripped of anything useful. “We read you alpha. Give a brief look around for any salvage and then get back here.” He knew it was hopeless, these raiders were savagely methodical, but it never hurt to check.
The captain turned toward a navigational display. The ship’s chief navigator was plotting their position on a map of the Atlantic. “They’re definitely migrating, sir.” A loose cluster of dots, in varying shades of red, brightened the area west of the United Kingdom. The darkest dots were the oldest ships they had found. The cluster began to tighten and form a line heading southwest, and the dots grew brighter the farther the line traveled.
“How have they been eluding us this long?” The captain had asked this dozens of times. As advanced as the Illustrious was, she was still just one ship. Without support from the rest of the navy, she was as blind as the first wooden ships, venturing toward the edge of the world. The old cartographer’s warning, “Here there be dragons,” was beginning to have weight again.
Since they found the first ship, just over a year before, the crew had been unified in their desire to find and stop whoever was doing this. That others had survived only to be cut down by pirates was an affront to everything they stood for, and they would stop at nothing to avenge those that were lost.
“If they continue on this track, sir, we’ll be unable to follow without laying in considerable supplies.” The navigator waited for Captain Raleigh’s response.
“I’ll order a major supply run. Fuel, food, whatever we need. They’re not getting away, not while we can still chase them.” He turned to go, and stopped in the hatchway. “We’ll get them, men.”
#
Errol stopped him, “I don’t get it. If you ran into so many victimized ships over there, why haven’t we run into any?” But then he stopped himself. They had run into ships, but they appeared empty and Errol hadn’t dared investigate them. “Oh boy. I wonder how many raiders there are over here.”
Stoneham smiled, “Precisely why I mentioned how lucky you’ve been.”
“All right, let’s get back to it.”
#
Stoneham sat at the radio console, staring at the digital readouts. Alpha team had flown ashore thirty minutes ago, but they hadn’t radioed back in seven minutes, two minutes past the deadline set by Captain Raleigh’s standing orders. He depressed the send button. “Alpha team, this is Illustrious, come in.”
Raleigh paced back and forth behind him, alternately looking at the radio console and out the window toward the Philippine islands. They hadn’t lost a man in four years and he didn’t want to start now. He stopped at the navigation display and looked at the trail of red dots the Illustrious had been following.
The cluster west of England was a dim shade of red, barely distinguishable from black. A broken line led southwest to the shores of Brazil and then south around the cape. It followed the pacific coast as far as Baja before turning west again. The line zig-zagged across the wide Pacific, approaching Hawaii, bouncing through island chains until it stopped where the aircraft carrier now lay waiting to hear from its crew. The Philippines had seemed like as good a place as any to take on fresh supplies. Now Stoneham wondered if they had made a mistake.
He tried again, “Alpha team, this is Illustrious, come in please.” A hiss of static drifted out of the speakers and then the voice of Alpha’s pilot.
“Illustrious, this is Alpha team. We are en route, ETA 3 minutes.”
Captain Raleigh snatched up a head-set. “Alpha, this is the captain, what is your situation.”
“Roger sir. We came under attack in a warehouse but we made it out.” They could see a dot in the sky over the island ahead. Stoneham sighed with relief, unaware that the approaching helicopter carried the doom of his fellow crew.
#
“How many were bitten?” Errol asked when Stoneham paused, staring out the window at HMS Illustrious.
“Just one. Bernie Rolston. He was one of the marines. He hid it until they got back to the ship. When the medics came out to check over everyone he bolted, hid deep in the ship. It’s actually very easy to hide on an aircraft carrier. The captain sent teams after him and eventually they stopped coming back.” He stopped, looking blankly at his old ship.
Errol didn’t need him to fill in the blanks. Stoneh
am was lucky to be alive but he’d live with the horror of the event for the rest of his life. But before he could think of something to say, the royal navy man spoke up.
“You’ve heard my story, and I hope I’ve earned a little trust from you, because I need your help.” He turned from the view outside the ship. “We can’t leave Lusty like this.”
Errol blinked, confused. “I’m not following you.”
“The raiders. They’re out here somewhere, and I gather they aren’t the only ones. If you think they’re dangerous now, just imagine what they could do with an aircraft carrier, with nearly a full load of helicopters.”
Errol nodded, “I see that, I really do, but what do you expect me to do? Your ship is infested. I can’t risk my crew over there. How do you know these raiders will even try for it?”
“I don’t know for sure that they will, but I can’t take the risk.”
Errol shook his head in disbelief, “What risk? I mean of course they’ll be dangerous but to whom? For all I know we’re all that’s left.”
Stoneham stopped to gather his thoughts. “What are you doing out here? Do you believe the world is over? If you believe that why haven’t you jumped overboard by now?”
“I ...,” but Errol could not continue. After all this time, working day in and day out just to survive, he had never really thought about an end to the Folly project. “I don’t know.”
“Well I do, sir, because my crew had the same reasons. We can start over, we can make it work. I won’t jeopardize that, no matter what the risk to myself. Unfortunately, I don’t believe I can do this alone.”
Errol found himself nodding. “What do you have in mind?”
Chapter 6
Anne Grundig took a seat in the galley, one of the last to arrive. The whole crew was here, save a few stragglers still coming in. Errol stood at the front, in front of a portable chalk board they used for meetings and planning. He was just finishing a crude map of the world, the Americas in the center, with a dotted line that wandered southwest from England, around the horn of South America, and northwest to where the ship was now anchored near the Philippines.
Doctor Hayes, the Folly’s medic, leaned over to Anne, “That must be the route the carrier took.”
Anne looked to Errol’s left and saw something she hadn’t seen in a long time: a new face. “Oh my god.”
Hayes nodded, “I know, I’m still not sure I believe it. His name is Stonewall. I heard it from Barbara.”
The murmuring throughout the galley was mounting, becoming louder as the last few crew members took their seats. Errol bent down to the new man’s ear and said a few words. The man, wearing what Anne assumed was a British naval uniform, nodded and Errol straightened.
“If everyone could quiet down. Quiet down please!” Errol waited for the sound to fade. It happened quickly, the crew’s desire for information paramount. “I don’t want to downplay the importance of today’s events, but time is a factor in what I’m about to tell you, so I have to be brief.”
The crew waited in utter silence for him to continue. That was good. It made him feel like he would be able to get through it uninterrupted. He gestured to his left. “This is Reg Stoneham, former Chief Petty Officer of the HMS Illustrious, which is sitting off our port side. The rest of his crew has fallen to the plague, and are still aboard the ship. Ideally, we would already be underway, but unfortunately Reg can't leave yet, and neither can I.”
Restless muttering filled the hall, threatening to disrupt the meeting. Errol held up his hands, “Please, you all need to hear this! Please.” The crew quieted again and Errol continued. “You will of course remember the many vessels we’ve passed over the years, seemingly empty craft that did not respond to any attempt at communication. I now believe the crews of those ships and boats were murdered by pirates and raiders. For more information on this, I’m going to ask Reg to speak to you.”
The muttering began in full force as Errol took a seat and the British officer rose, straightening his uniform and stepping toward the chalk board. Anne was riveted, oblivious to the building sound of conversations around her.
“If I may have your attention,” said Stoneham, though the sound had stopped completely as soon as he opened his mouth. “Thank you. For eighteen months my crew has been tracking a raider.” Reg spent a few minutes telling them about his ship's journey from one side of the world to the other. “It is my belief that this raider is still in the area. From what your captain has told me, there are others operating in the Pacific as well. Captain Stimsky?” Stoneham took his seat and Errol stood up in front of the board again. The crew was completely silent.
“It’s just Errol, Reg. Now,” but then he stopped, obviously trying to collect himself. “Four years ago we escaped the end of the world. I believe the time has come for us to think about ending our journey, finding a place to begin rebuilding. Unfortunately, this obstacle has fallen into our path. These raiders are dangerous enough, but right outside there's a warship, fully armed and ready, lacking only a crew. We can’t possibly make use of it ourselves, but leaving it out there, waiting for whoever comes along, is unacceptable. Any rebuilding efforts, by us or anyone else, would be severely jeopardized by it.” He paused, as though unsure he could say whatever came next. Then he did. “So, Reg and I have decided to sink her.”
The room exploded in a cacophony of shouted opinions. Anne said nothing, still trying to assimilate the facts. Errol raised his hands and his voice.
“One at a time! Please, one at a time!”
The crowd quieted enough to allow Patty to stand. “There’s enough equipment on that ship to guarantee our power system for years, not to mention what we could do on solid ground. We can’t just send it down!”
Errol shook his head. “The ship is full of the infected. Any kind of salvage operation is simply too dangerous.”
Jones spoke up. “There don’t seem to be any zombies on the flight deck. We could salvage what we could from the choppers without going below. Plenty of wiring and components in that many birds.”
Stoneham chimed in, “And weapons. Two of the marine transports are sitting at the stern. We kept them fully loaded in case we ever caught sight of the raiders.”
Errol shook his head. “It's too risky. They could come pouring onto the deck and the salvage team would have nowhere to go.” His words gave Anne an idea.
“Let them,” she said. The crowd turned its attention to her and she continued, “Let them pour onto the deck. We don't have to be on it to get them to come out. We can back off, make a lot of noise, let them see us. They'll fall right off the flight deck just like... like when we left Coos Bay.”
Stoneham's face cracked into a wide grin and he looked at Errol. “Brilliant.”
#
An hour later Anne stood on top of the Folly's bridge with Barbara. The flight deck of the Illustrious was about thirty feet higher than the main deck of the Folly, putting it nearly level with the roof of the bridge. Jones had used the engine and some careful maneuvering to nudge them back behind the aircraft carrier's stern.
Errol's Folly had started life in 1985 as a geared bulk carrier called Star of Santiago. In December 2003, the shipping company that owned the ship decided to auction her and use the funds to subsidize a newer model. She was the perfect size for Errol's plan so he bid aggressively. TransWorld Shipping was very pleased with what they got for the ship, but the world ended before they could acquire a new one.
The ship came with three powerful loading cranes. Errol and Bob Graham, their mechanical engineer at the time, had converted two of them into sailing masts that could be deployed and retracted on demand. The third crane was kept intact in case they ever needed it. So while Anne and Barbara prepared to perform as live bait, Errol and several of the Folly's crew were below putting together a crude carriage so the crane could carry people up to Lusty's flight deck. The carrier had several openings set into her hull, but a few of the dead had already been spotted in these. Usi
ng them as an entry point was too risky.
“You ready?” Barbara asked. Anne nodded. They started yelling and banging on pots from the galley.
“HEY! COME AND GET IT! SOUP'S ON!” Anne yelled. They carried on for about two minutes before stopping. Nothing moved on the flight deck. Anne had just opened her mouth to start up again when she heard the first moan. A chill gripped the base of her spine as she remembered fleeing down the dock in Coos Bay. Then they heard it again, a little louder, and it was soon accompanied by another.
“Let's keep it up,” Barbara said and then started to yell again. Anne was stuck fast, unable to move or speak. The memories of that terrifying night had paralyzed her. She stared out across the flight deck of the carrier and waited. It was less than a minute before the first of the dead emerged from the base of the flight control tower. It plodded out of the hatch, stumbling over the lip at the bottom, and turned toward the stern. They couldn't make out many details from this far away. Lusty was longer than two football fields, and the dead thing stumbling toward them was about half that distance from the stern. Anne watched it shamble along. Its only need was hunger, a perversion of humanity. A mockery. She found her voice.
“COME ON!” she yelled, “COME AND GET IT, YOU BASTARD!”
“YEAH!” Barbara yelled, clapping Anne on the back.
More zombies started to appear on the deck from hatches in the cluster of structures on the ship's starboard side. Soon it was practically a crowd. Anne heard her walkie squawking on her hip and motioned to Barbara to be quiet.
“Try to keep a count of how many go over,” Stoneham's voice said from the radio. “It would be smashing to have an idea how many are still below.”
Barbara nodded and Anne pressed the button on the walkie. “You got it.” They resumed their shouts. As the first of the walking corpses neared the stern, Anne told Barbara, “I'll count, you keep shouting.” Barbara gave her a thumbs up without letting up her baiting.
The stern of the carrier was about thirty feet away, giving them a good look at the approaching pack of zombies. Their flesh was pallid and blotchy where it wasn't broken by ugly looking wounds. Some of them were mostly intact, others barely functional. The first to reach the edge of the deck had one arm dangling uselessly by strips of skin and tendon. His blue uniform shirt was stained with dark brown splotches of dried blood. He took a step off the deck and tumbled over fifty feet into the water below.
