by Howard, Bob
“Molly, tell everyone to go now. There’s a survivor on that ship, and we’re going to try to help get her out of there.”
When Molly told us Kathy had broken radio silence, and that the message was to go now, we started moving fast. The armory was just beyond the room that held our escape tunnel, so we all gathered there first. We had plenty of ammunition, M4’s, M16’s, and Glocks. We also each grabbed a machete and a pair of heavy duty work gloves. Backpacks were stuffed with ammunition until they were almost too heavy to carry.
I was glad Tom had been a professional baseball player because he had the legs for carrying that much weight. I was in the best shape of my entire life, but I was never going to catch up with him. The man was an absolute workhorse.
We gathered at the escape hatch, and Jean was waiting there for me. The look on her face said she was more worried about this trip outside than usual. She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. She felt so comfortable against me that I could easily have stayed right where I was.
“You’re going to be a father in a week or so. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to come back in one piece. I wish I was going with you.”
“I plan to be here when you have our baby, so I’ll come back in one piece and without getting hurt. I don’t want you to be worry while I’m gone, but you know I have to be there for this.”
There wasn’t much else I could say except that I would be careful, and I expected her not to go outside while we were gone. She said something about no Russians in the moat, but both of us were thinking about the same thing. Going outside and surviving wasn’t a sure thing anymore. We had seen a lot of bad things in the last year, but this situation looked wrong. There were too many things happening out there.
I gave Jean a long kiss then reluctantly let her go and went up the escape tunnel where Tom and Bus were waiting for me. The helpless look on her face was almost more than I could stand, and I could tell she was doing everything she could not to cry.
Jean watched me go into the tunnel then sealed the lower door behind me. I sealed the upper hatch as quickly as I could, but I could still feel Jean standing below the bottom hatch as if she was right in front of me.
Tom and Bus checked to be sure the beach was clear at the southern end of Mud Island, and then we worked as fast as we could to get the Boston Whaler down to the water.
“Any radiation readings, Bus?” I asked.
“Nothing we need to worry about,” he answered.
The motor started easily, and we headed out to the coordinates that Kathy had sent to us. We could see the blue and white ship in the distance, and there were so many small boats heading for it that we couldn’t have guessed how many there were.
“How are we supposed to help the survivor on that ship with that many people trying to get there ahead of us?” I shouted over the sound of the motor.
“I don’t know,” yelled Tom. “Maybe the Chief has some ideas.”
We were all watching the ship, but there was no mistaking the yellow dot that appeared in the distance behind it. The de Havilland Beaver seaplane passed behind the stern of the ship and gradually descended to the water.
******
Kathy radioed Cassandra one last time and told her to brace herself for impact. They could see that the ship was about to hit the reef, and there were at least fifty boats in the collision path. The Chief guessed that the people must have thought the ship would stop to rescue them, but even if the people on board the ship had been alive, it just wasn’t something they would have done. Ships with living crews weren’t likely to risk bringing the infection onboard.
From everyone’s point of view it was a horrendous impact. The big ship slammed into the reef and was brought to such a rapid stop that it caused its own wake to catch up with it like a tidal wave. The wave passed the ship and crashed into the smaller boats that had gone to the port and starboard sides to move from the path of the bow.
Some of the small boats that had gotten there too quickly were swamped or crushed under the bow. Fewer than half of the original inhabitants of the Mud Island moat were left alive, and more were dying every minute as the big ship bucked with its stern higher out of the water than we could imagine it could go. When it dropped back down as the forward motion was completely stopped, it created a second tidal wave that rushed forward to claim a few more of the small boats that had somehow survived the first wave.
Inside the ship, Cassandra had gone to the forward bulkhead of the small radio room and laid her body against it as closely as she could. First she felt like gravity had changed from the deck to the wall, then she felt the room tilt until she was sure it was on its side. Then it was like an elevator changing directions, and gravity went from the bulkhead to the deck, to the opposite bulkhead, and then back to the deck again. She was tossed around like a rag doll, but the room was small enough to keep her from flying too far or too fast. She could only imagine what it had been like in the bigger compartments. The crew’s berthing area was probably a big pile of bodies.
There was a vibration through the deck, and she was surprised to feel that the big screws behind the ship were still turning. That wasn’t good. An engine that was pushing too hard to keep moving forward was more likely to catch fire when it overheated. If she could find her way out, she needed to start trying now. Fires on ships were a bad thing.
The cabin door was warped and didn’t want to open. Cassandra looked around for something she could use to pry it open, but the room was too small to have anything useful, and for the first time since this ordeal had begun, she felt like she was going to panic. She could deal with anything except being trapped inside the little room.
She was just about to lose it when she remembered her meat cleaver. She pulled it from her belt and started working the sharp edge into the gap around the door. She kept telling herself to be patient so she wouldn’t snap the blade in half as she pried. When the seal around the door was a little wider, she started to pull on the handle and pry with the cleaver at the same time. The door popped open and a tangle of bodies fell through.
Despite being pushed back against the bulkhead for a second time, Cassandra swung the heavy cleaver expertly. What had seemed like ten infected dead turned out to be four, and she delivered blows to their heads as fast as she could. She had to step on them to get out of the room, but there was no way she wanted to stay in there for one more minute.
The corridor outside the little room was just like the pile up on the door to the cabin, but most of the infected dead had been unable to bring themselves to a standing position. Cassandra hurried past them, stopping only when it looked like one was going to be able to grab her. She reached for the highest rung on a ladder that went up one deck and pulled herself free from the infected that were still trying to get to their feet.
Earlier when she had found herself with nowhere to go except down into the crew’s berthing compartment, she had descended slowly and found that someone had done her a big favor. The steps of the steel ladder came down outside the door to the berthing area, and it was dogged shut with a fire fighting axe handle through the big locking wheel in the middle of the door. It was still in place as she went by, but the bulkhead had buckled and the door was ready to come off of its hinges. She climbed the next gangway quickly to get to the kitchen storage area. Her plan was to get to the open cargo door and jump. If she was as close to land as she thought she was, she could swim the rest of the way.
There was an odd feel to the vibrations in the deck, and she felt like the ship was moving sideways. Her first look out the cargo bay door confirmed her suspicions as she saw the turning screws were making the ship pivot around its bow. The ship was trying to turn sideways to the reef. That would be really bad news if the collision with the reef had opened a hole in the bow. She wasn’t sure if the ship could pivot far enough to break free of the reef, but if it did it would start taking on water. Jumping from the ship wasn’t going to be an option.
Her next look through the open door was down at the water, and she was surprised to see at least a dozen boats clustered only twenty feet below. There were men trying to throw ropes with makeshift hooks on them up into the storage area. One narrowly missed her, and she saw that it was a ten pound anchor. Whoever threw it that far wasn’t someone she wanted to meet without a weapon in her hand.
When the anchor landed, its blades fanned outward and lodged around the steel legs of one of the heavy storage shelves. She saw the rope pull tight, and movement of the rope to the left and right told her someone was on their way up. It was undoubtedly the person who could throw a ten pound anchor that far.
Cassandra dove across the deck and brought the cleaver down on the rope. The weight of someone climbing the rope made the cleaver’s job even easier, and it sliced clean through with one swing. The rope snaked out through the open door, and she heard loud cursing as the man crashed back into his boat. The fall wasn’t likely to kill him, but it was one less thing trying to kill her.
She risked a quick look over the edge of the cargo door and was rewarded by a steady barrage of bullets. She didn’t know how many guns there were, but it only took one. She got out of the way just in time as the next anchor flew past her. This one didn’t hook onto anything and slid back through the open cargo door. Cassandra wished she had one infected dead in the storage area that she could hook the anchor to. They would be surprised when they dragged that back over the edge.
She laughed to herself, but the idea wasn’t as bad as she thought. She looked around and saw that she had plenty of high places where she could climb to, and still have a clear shot at the door. She waited for the anchor to appear again, and she grabbed it before it could slide away. Whoever was on the other end of the rope must have been surprised to see the rope going into the opening of the ship instead of coming back out because they didn’t try to stop it in time.
Cassandra ran over to the door to the galley and wrapped the line around the handle. As soon as it went tight she turned and ran for the nearest shelves and climbed to the top. She watched the line pull tighter, and just as she hoped, the door swung open. The infected dead that had chased her behind the serving line in the galley and survived the collision were tangled up against the door, and they fell through in a big pile.
There was plenty of noise at the cargo door because the first man was already halfway up the rope, and a second line had hooked onto the lip of the door where it met the deck. The men were cheering each other on as the first one got to the top and turned to grab the hand of the next man behind him.
They were both holding onto the rim of the door when their hands were bitten. The exposed flesh was ripped from their bones, and they immediately let go. They fell into the boats, taking people with them who had almost reached the top, followed by a rainstorm of bodies. The infected dead had reacted to the screams and didn’t see Cassandra on the top shelf, and one by one they walked to the open door and then walked right over the edge.
Cassandra watched the parade of infected dead go by her until there weren’t any more, and then she dropped down to the deck. She didn’t see any activity over by the open cargo door, but she doubted she had done anything more than to delay the inevitable. Even if she managed to close the cargo door, she was likely to be shot making the effort. Her best bet was to escape to a higher deck, and she had at least bought herself some time by letting the infected come through the kitchen.
She hefted the cleaver in one hand, but she pulled her Glock from its holster with the other. If those people had managed to board from another part of the ship, shooting was going to be the only way to defend herself.
******
There would be time for a reunion later, but as the Boston Whaler bobbed next to the seaplane, I wished I could hug them all…even the Chief. He would have made a big deal out of that, so I settled for a few words of welcome.
Tom had managed to get control of the seaplane’s wing just long enough to get the boat and plane into position to transfer to the boat, but he knew better than to hang on. The right wave at the right time, and he would have a choice between hanging on and losing his arms.
“Are we shallow enough to anchor?” yelled Kathy.
I gave her a thumbs up, and she let the anchor line go.
With everyone on board, I throttled up the engine and turned in the direction of the blue and white ship that was even now trying to power its way over the reef. I didn’t have time to talk with everyone, but Hampton gave me a pat on the shoulder as he went by. He was trailed by a little strawberry blonde who gave me a smile and a pat on the shoulder where Tom had. I had to laugh even though I knew we were going into a really bad place in just a few minutes.
We came up on the port side of the ship where the reef made the water much more shallow than on the starboard side. There were several boats already lined up, and the people in them were trying to throw grappling hooks high enough to reach the railings. I saw one fly up in the air and come straight back down on the head of the moron who threw it.
“Those guys are going to kill themselves before we can,” yelled the Chief.
I glanced back and saw him sighting down the barrel of a hunting rifle. He pulled the trigger and one of the men throwing an anchor threw short. He and the anchor both went into the water.
That brought the guns out on the boats, and shots were fired wildly in our direction. The people in the boats had made a lot of mistakes in one day, but opening fire instead of running was the biggest one. The Chief and Kathy were both deadly shooters, and their first few shots all hit their targets. Tom and Hampton had both moved to the bow where they could lay out to take aim, and they were also reducing the numbers in the boats. I was surprised to find Bus and the little strawberry blonde both doing damage, as well.
By the time we reached the side of the big ship, there were only a handful of people alive in the boats, and they were more than glad to leave. Our group stopped firing when it became clear that the other people preferred to leave, but instead of turning for land, they drove along the port side of the ship and tried to turn around the stern. The churning propellors took care of the small boats as they were pulled under in what looked like a huge blender.
We didn’t know what was happening over on the starboard side of the ship, but we now had a clear port side to climb. The Chief was laughing at the attempts they had seen the people in the boats making. He produced a short piece of rope that looked like it had a big knot on the end of it. He called it a Monkey’s Paw. He tied it to a longer piece of rope and expertly threw it over the railing on the first try. When it crossed the railing, he tugged at just the right moment, and the line spun around the top railing into a nice little knot.
The Chief went up the side of the ship with another rope over his shoulder and hopped over the railing. He tied off the second rope so we would have two ropes to climb and then dropped into a crouch to be sure nothing was going to attack us. We all got a chance to see that Colleen wasn’t shy about joining in on the fight as she expertly went hand over hand up a rope. I turned the rudder over to Bus so I could start climbing with the others, and as soon as the last of us was climbing a rope, Bus pulled the boat away to a safe distance.
The Chief gave us a quick explanation of what he wanted to do, and told us he thought we were only looking for one survivor. He said that they had seen an open cargo door on the starboard side of the ship when they flew over it, so we should expect that some of the boat people would have gotten in through there.
When the Chief was done explaining the plan he asked if there were any questions, and I told him I had one. It was risky to ask, but I had to know something.
“I know we’re doing the right thing by going in for one person, but I can’t really put my finger on a reason other than that I would want someone to help me. Is there something else besides us being self-appointed knights in shining armor?”
I felt like a rat for asking, but I could see from the reaction o
f the others that they didn’t mind the question. We didn’t really need another reason, but it wouldn’t hurt to have one.
The Chief looked like he was thinking about the answer, but then he just grinned and said, “No, that about covers it. Let’s go find that survivor.”
Kathy, the Chief, and Tom took off along the side of the ship in the direction of the stern. I went with Hampton and Colleen toward the bow. When the Chief had laid out his rescue plan, he explained that survivors on ships always try to go up, so search and rescue teams always start at the top. It made sense to me because you could always see the survivors on the top deck. The Chief also explained that the simple psychology was people also knew they could jump from a ship easier than they could dig a hole through the hull. The man had a way with words.
When we reached the bow, we found a big pile of infected dead still trying to untangle themselves from each other and from equipment. When the ship had hit the reef, they shot forward like rag dolls. Most of them had suffered some damage that was preventing them from standing up, and those that could stand were stuck in the twisted pile of bodies. It looked like a wrestling match with a lot of contestants.
We inspected the mess and decided it would be a waste of time to dispose of them, so we just located the ladder on the port side that went up to the next level. We had no idea if it was going to be the top deck or if we had another level to climb, but it looked like we had one more ladder to go.
On the stern of the ship, the rest of our group was delayed because the pile of infected was wrapped up around the bottom of the ladder. They had to carefully cut away almost two dozen grabbing, biting, and groaning infected before they could begin to climb. Once they were past them, they climbed the ladder and found a similar mess at what must have been a medical bay. Some of the infected were strapped down, some were tangled together, and some were wandering around.
