by Jack Walker
Arriving at the docks where the ship was anchored, they all climbed out of the vehicles and started to take everything off the trailer and onto the boat. Judith had just started to get everything arranged on deck when they heard a huge explosion that came from the direction of where the horde had last been seen. Looking back that way fearfully, Judith had gone white; her face draining of all colour as she realised the container could have been something that had just exploded. Everyone redoubled their efforts to get everything into the boat, before anything else could happen. George had started the engines and kept them idling while the rest of the group loaded their haul on-board their new transport. Ella had also been helping arrange everything safely within the space they had on-board the boat, and had actually had to slap Judith to get her to move again after she had heard the huge explosion. As the last few crates of ammunition was being carried on-board; they heard the screams and finally saw the infected charging down toward the docks where their boat was docked ready to leave. Alan, who had been carrying the last crate, froze; his crotch getting wet as his bladder let go and he urinated on himself. He stood there shaking like a leaf; he could not move at all. Terror had rooted him to the spot. Simon screamed at him to move his ass aboard the boat, but he just stood there, still holding the crate as they got to him and immediately started to tear into his body. By this time George had opened the throttle of the boat and they had already moved the boat far enough out that the infected could not just attempt to jump out into the water. As they left the Infected behind, Simon noticed that the infected tried to stay away from the water, almost as if it was something they did not want to try and get near at all. He motioned Dawson over and pointed out the way the infected were in no way interested in coming near the water. She noted this in surprise, by his side; and they looked at each other. The whole group was watching the infected as they raged on the dock, trying to get at the fleeing boat. The aggression they displayed was apparent, and they were rabid with their hatred toward the survivors making their way away from the dock. Some of the infected were moving along the dock towards the other boats, and there was almost a basic intelligence there; trying to get closer to the humans. Simon saw some of the infected looking at the boat, and then looking around; almost as if they were trying to figure out some way to get at the humans. George steered the boat slowly toward another dock that was further away from the horde, but not too close. Suddenly there was an explosion of movement that Simon saw on a cargo crane that was hanging out over the water. He shouted to George as he saw clambering up the ladder; heading toward the control cabin. They were now swarming up the crane by the dozen, and he looked up to where they were headed. He realised that they were trying to make their way toward the end of the crane; the part that he could see was almost above the boat they were on. Alarm dawned on his face; he shouted to George to steer away from their destination, and try get away from under the crane. George had not seen them clambering up onto the crane, and was therefore not as aware as Simon had been the whole time. He looked up as the first infected landed with a splash next to the boat. That was when he realised that he had made an error in judgement allowing them to get too close to the other dock.
Chapter Eighteen
The first infected landed as he rammed the lever into reverse, and the boat fortunately lurched enough to throw the infected off the boat backward into the water. Thump thump thump. He knew then that three had landed one after the other, and he heard Dawson yell to him to duck. Her shots took them out in a spray of blood and they collapsed onto the deck, their brains had finally stopped functioning by terminal lead poisoning.
Dawson smiled, and looked at George, as she clapped him on the back. George sighed as he realised that if Simon had not been so observant then the boat could have been overrun by the infected. The group cheered as they watched the other infected now try reach the boat by leaping out into the air. Fortunately they were now too far away from the cranes boom for the infected to make their attempts to jump to the boat effective. It did not stop them from carrying on trying though, they were still streaming up the side of the crane and onto the boom; then leaping out into space. Simon came over to George as well and stood watching the infected; seemingly they did not care for their existence as they continued their final plunge, screaming as their bodies hit the water. They thrashed and struggled feebly to extricate themselves but as soon as they hit the water they immediately weakened and sank beneath the water. This confirmed Simon’s initial suspicion as he had watched them on the dock. He had seen their reluctance to go near the water; however their apparent attempt at getting to the humans via the crane and boom was evidence that if there was a possibility they could access humans; no matter how crazy, they would attempt it. Simon stood there, contemplating the information that he was presented with and realised that things were pretty complicated as it stood. There was mounting evidence that the horde would do anything to attempt getting at their prey, and would go to any length to try get to them. The crane presented him with evidence that they had at least rudimentary intelligence; not real problem solving skills, but enough to make them dangerous. Leaning over to whisper in her ear, he spoke quietly to Dawson who had stayed up on the bridge with George and himself. George had now started moving forward towards the open water of the harbour, staying as far as possible away from any structures or docks.
“Do you see what I am seeing in those infected people? The way they were able to reason out some way of trying to get to us.” he murmured, looking worried at the rest of the group.
Ella climbed up onto the bridge to join them and was just about to greet them when she saw how close Simon and Dawson were; leaning in and whispering to each other. Dawson felt the presence of Ella more than heard her, and stepped away from Simon giving him a nod, and went and stood next to George. Ella came up to Simon and spoke in a whisper to him, “And what was that about, Simon? Are you worried about the infected’s behaviour that we saw on the crane?”
Simon glanced at her and grimaced; she had also noticed the infected’s behaviour. This had not really surprised him as she was quite observant. Her prior trauma when they had rescued her had obviously worn off, and he decided she would probably have a good chance of being pretty good with a weapon.
“Yes, I am a concerned about their behaviour, and think we should not underestimate them in the slightest.” he said softly, making sure that only she heard.
“It looked like they were thinking of a solution and then they worked out that their only way they could get close to enough to us was if they used the crane.” she replied softly. “I am not sure if they are really have any superior intelligence or if it is just basic problem solving.”
Simon nodded at her as she looked out at the rest of the people on the lower deck, relaxed a bit more now that they were out of immediate danger. “How many others also thought about the infected climbing that crane, and put two and two together,” he said softly, “It seems as though not everyone has actually realised the danger we are all in with these infected.”
“Phil, Mo and Edgar have also mentioned it to me that they noticed the way they reacted when we got the boat moving, and how they almost succeeded in attacking us by using the crane.” she said again, “however they managed to reason it out I agree that we need to just be careful while on the boat.”
Simon looked back at the infected, and suddenly had a thought. “How many people have actually used a weapon since this started? Nobody has really had a chance to really try any of the weapons have they?” he asked suddenly; looking over at Dawson and waved her over. He repeated the question and quickly outlined his plan to her. Smiling she nodded and went back over to George, and she spoke to him in a low voice. Simon could see the initial confusion cloud his face, then as realisation dawned; he throttled the boat back and turned to Simon, grinning widely.
Simon nodded and looked down at the crowded deck where everyone stopped and looked at him, a puzzled look on their faces. He made his way t
o the steps, and stood at the top, and spoke loudly so everybody could hear.
“What I have done is ask George to do is to stop the boat; we need to get all of you some practise with the weapons we have. There is enough ammunition that we can easily get you all reasonably proficient with the rifles and the pistols. What I need you to do is split into two groups; those of you that have had experience with weapons, and those who have not. Then Dawson will try and match you with someone who has a little knowledge and get them to help you out. That way Dawson can assess everybody and then we can try shooting some of the infected. However we will not get too close, but away from anything they can use as a means to attempt to get to us.” he said loudly enough to all of them.
Dawson smiled and took over the grouping and a half hour later they had moved the boat close enough to shore that there was a safe enough distance, so that they could use the infected for target practise. Dawson was happy with the pairs of shooters and had arranged the weapons on the deck, the ammunition stacked in magazines; ready to slip into the weapons. Gun safety was gone through again with everybody paying close attention. Simon watched as she picked up a pistol, stood in a relaxed shooters stance; her arms relaxed and her breathing steady. She lifted the pistol, took aim, steadied her breathing and fired. Her target fell, and then got up again. She had deliberately aimed for the torso, as she knew that it would be an easier target to hit, and to get the rest of the group used to pulling a trigger on an infected. Quickly the group copied her, and Dawson was impressed with a few of them; noting that some had actually managed to get their shots fairly accurate; with one or two unexpected headshots. Those she pulled aside and had them do it again, and again, just to make sure that it had not been a fluke. She was actually happy, they had six very good shots, three were okay, and the rest were below average. Simon and Ella had stayed up on the bridge with George and had used the weapons they had been given. They had also proved themselves among the top shots of the group. Nodding approvingly Dawson looked at the group as a whole and was happy that they had at last managed to get some decent shooting in. As a whole, they were not too bad, obviously there could be some improvement; but she was happy nonetheless. She looked up at Simon to see his smile broadening at the results of their shooting. He was smiling because they had actually not been too bad. He turned back to George and Ella and asked them if they felt more comfortable, to which they replied wholeheartedly ‘Yes’, and he asked the rest of the group as well, and they were all much more comfortable handling their firearms.
Chapter Twenty
They settled in on the boat, fortunately there was enough room for all of them, and people did have to double up, but that was not too inconvenient to live with. Everybody felt more comfortable on-board the boat, and proceeded to get themselves ready for their journey that they knew would be dangerous. They did not know what to expect on this leg of their journey; as they had no knowledge of the dangers that they would probably face. Throughout this infection, they had all been thinking different things and the group split into different segments, and they discussed the events that had happened and started to speculate whether the government would be able to step in and control the situation. Not everybody did talk; some actually helped by looking at their situation and suggested a rota to help out with the cooking and cleaning that they would need doing. Simon and Dawson sat down together to try draw up a roster of sorts with the limited number of bodies they had at their disposal, to try get some form of roster organised. They had listened to the suggestions that people had come up with, and had eventually managed to thrash out a viable solution that they felt everybody would be happy with. Simon had also asked Dawson about what she thought the group would do if they eventually found the island, and if there was any way of making a viable safe place for them as a group. He had tried to explain it in such a way that the group as a whole could survive and thrive if they had very few resources. Dawson’s face said it all as she looked thoughtfully at Simon, and when he looked questioningly at her; she explained that for them to survive long enough, they would eventually need to be able to plant crops and feed themselves off the land. This Simon had been expecting, and he had smiled at her and said that he had thought of that when they had gone to the garden centre to look for the barrels. He had also spent a few minutes raiding their seed section, and had scavenged enough seed packets that they might be able to start something pretty much immediately when they found the safety of the island. Dawson’s face lit up in pure joy as she laughed at the news, she had not expected anyone to think of that solution at all. Simon had just made himself indispensable in that moment she realised, he was indeed someone who was not quite a prepper, but someone who could think on his feet and actually remain reasonably calm under pressure. She looked at him with a new found feeling of respect, gave him a hug and felt a tear in her eye. She reached out to wipe it away, and asked if they should pass on the details of the roster to everyone else. Simon readily agreed noticing her wipe away the tear, and wondered if she was crying for those that had been infected or just their situation. He had not even planned to take the seeds, but had seen an opportunity and grabbed them. It had been one of his better decisions that day. He thought back on the last two days, and realised that he had not really had much time to think on the whole situation and how or if there would be any sort of reaction to the whole outbreak.
The boat jerked violently as he felt, then heard the engines rev up and propel them forward at a much more rapid rate. Dawson was thrown against him just as he was about to ask her what her thoughts were when the faint gunshots sounded; then much louder ones outside on the deck. Realising that someone must have started firing on them, he ran upstairs quickly, following Dawson out to the deck where there were people gathered. The speedboat approaching them rapidly had almost overtaken them and he looked at George who held a bleeding arm. Still controlling their now speeding boat, he looked up at Simon as he hunkered down just below the bridge’s windscreen. Asking what had happened confirmed his suspicions about the sequence of events. The other boat had indeed ‘strafed’ them as they were slowly making their way out into deeper water, and had fortunately only managed to injure George. He was softly cursing under his breath as she tried bravely with one arm to steer while keeping the other arm from bleeding too much. He kept their boat in a relatively straight line, but did try avoiding smaller boats that now lay behind them in their wake. Simon could see from his crouch, that the other boat had made a sweeping turn and had turned back to come toward them again.
The tattooed, six foot four leader of the group was grinning sadistically at his compatriots as their boat skimmed along rapidly past the larger luxury boat. He had heard someone cry out in pain after their initial salvo from their automatic weapons, and had just ordered their driver to turn again and get up alongside when he heard the larger boat open up its throttles, and roar away from them in a turn of speed that startled him. He swore loudly, shouting at his men to get after that boat; he wanted the women he had seen on deck earlier. He licked his lips and grinned evilly at the thought of the women. He rubbed the crotch of his jeans as he thought of the two young girls and the older ones as well. They had looked mighty tasty to him when they had first spied the group from the coffee shop go out foraging. Ant also wanted the weapons they had; that should have rightfully been his; then his rampage would have been a go. He urged the driver on, pointing toward the position he wanted his boat to be in and where they could attempt to get one of them on-board the other boat. They heard the shot, and they all dived down into the small cabin and took shelter. He looked at his men and laughed, the people on the other boat were useless shots, and urged them up again. They all yelled and just as they were about to open fire on the bigger boat, the driver was hit. His head was flung back and as he was pulled back by the impact of the bullet that had ended his life his dead fingers also pulled back on the throttle; making the boat slow down drastically. Ant stared dumbfounded at the body of his brother, now lying
dead in the boat as the other boat sped away from them. Screaming, he scrambled over to where his brothers body lay, and cradled him in his arms. The other two were now shocked back into action; and one grabbed the wheel and pushed the throttle all the way forward, getting the boat back into the chase. Ant nodded at him, nodding and clapped him on the back. The chase was on.
