“That’s an excellent idea, Commodore,” said Captain Fisher with an approving smile. “Shall I prepare the ship for docking and shore action?”
“Yes, Captain, I believe you should,” confirmed Scott. “Please send for Sergeant Major O’Hara too. It looks like it’s time to use those Amtracs of his. We’ll want to clear the pier and parking lot of zombies before we go knocking on the door of the Queen Mary.”
*****
Conrad Kroeker fought not to lose hope as the strange ship began to turn its bow away from him. Are they leaving? They could be our last hope! Making a split second decision, he spun around and entered the old bridge of the Queen Mary. Pulling out his master keys, he unlocked a cabinet on the wall and reached in to pull a handle there. High on the signal mast the ship’s single remaining air-driven Tyfon whistle blasted out a low bass “A” note at 55 Hz, trumpeting with a deep resonating sound that could be heard from up to ten miles away. Conrad pulled three short blasts, followed by three long blasts, then three more short blasts. That was SOS, the universal signal for distress. Nobody for miles in any direction, living or dead, could fail to know where it came from. It was bound to attract more zombies, just as it had the first and only other time he had blown the powerful horn last week. But Conrad had to do everything he could to get help for the people trapped with him in the floating hotel.
Returning to the deck he realized that his action might have been premature and unnecessary. The unfamiliar ship’s turn had put it perpendicular to the cruise ship pier. Now the strange ship was backing towards the dock and Conrad could see that it had a large door that was folding down into a ramp from its stern. Then the ship let off a blast of its own horn, obviously in response to the signal from the Queen Mary. The strange ship’s signal was one long blast followed by two short toots of its smaller and slightly higher pitched horn. DA-DIT-DIT! That was Morse code for the letter D, which signified “Docking” for a ship coming into port.
Conrad was both elated and terrified as he ran back towards the stern of the Queen Mary and across to look at the zombies in the parking lot. Sure enough, they were swarming around the ship and more were approaching from every direction. The powerful horns had driven them into frenzied activity and attracted more of them towards the ships. Most of the zombies were fixated on the Queen Mary, as they had been for the past week, but dozens of others were turning towards the cruise ship pier where the newcomers had just announced their presence. To the zombies a ship’s horn must sound like the dinner bell.
What have I done? Conrad asked himself with horror. He was certain that the new ship would either leave as soon as it saw the zombies running towards it, or that the zombies would run right across the ramp and devour everyone aboard as soon as it reached the dock. This will be a disaster! Conrad thought. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
As the Sovereign Spirit’s stern ramp lowered to rest on the concrete pier in front of the empty cruise ship terminal, a dozen Marines walked out to greet about fifty zombies running towards them. The men leapt onto the pier and took positions on either side of the ramp, kneeling into well trained firing postures. Their rapid semi-automatic weapons fire shredded the foremost ranks of the zombies and quickly dispatched the rest of those headed their way. Then, as Conrad’s eyes widened, a big armored personnel carrier drove out of the ship with more Marines riding atop it. Unbelievably, another of the giant war machines followed the first moments later. The second one paused just long enough to lower its own rear ramp and let the dozen Marines on the dock scramble inside, then it raised its ramp and followed the first armored vehicle that was already moving towards the Queen Mary at close to thirty miles an hour. The ship then raised its vehicle ramp high enough to prevent any zombies from jumping aboard.
The lead Amtrac had a bulldozer blade on its front end, poised at knee level, as it bore down on the swarming zombies in the parking lot. It slashed through them like a hot knife through butter. Scores of zombies were cut down, many turned to slime under the grinding treads, as the massive machine tore through the mob. Then it turned on blood slick tracks and repeated the process. The second Amtrac barreled into the crowd of zombies slightly inland of where the first one had passed, producing equally satisfying results. Then each vehicle turned again and made pass after pass through the horde of undead. Conrad thought it was similar to watching choreographed lawn mowers in action.
Within a minute or two the parking lot was covered in pools of blood and mangled flesh, with only a few stray zombies still standing. At that point the Amtracs stopped and each of them disgorged a dozen Marines from their rear ramps. They proceeded to calmly shoot every remaining zombie with disciplined fire of single shots to the head. By then Conrad was ecstatic, jumping up and down and yelling encouragement. He had been joined by at least two hundred other people who had come up on the Queen Mary’s deck to investigate the commotion. Everyone cheered as the last of the zombies in the parking lot fell to a single rifle shot from a hundred yards away. They were saved!
At that point Conrad noticed that the ramp on the ship had been lowered again and another vehicle was driving out of it. This looked like a normal SUV, a Suburban or Escalade, and it sped quickly to the remaining pedestrian ramp leading into the Queen Mary. Meanwhile the Marines took up defensive positions around their armored vehicles and watched for more zombies.
The SUV arrived carrying four men who got out and waved up to the onlookers above. Conrad waved back with a wide smile. One of the men below, dressed somewhat like a man on a safari with a mean looking weapon slung from his shoulder, yelled up at him, “Hello Queen Mary! I’m Commodore Scott Allen, requesting permission to come aboard!”
“Yes! Yes, sir!” Conrad yelled back. “Of course! Just give me a few minutes to get the door open.” He spun away from the rail and ran back into the ship, as the rest of the people lining the rails of the Promenade Deck resumed their cheers. A few minutes ago Conrad had feared that this day would turn out to be the beginning of the end for everyone on the Queen Mary, but now he was faced with a whole new beginning. Whatever the future held in store, this was a moment of intense triumph and relief.
*****
Scott and Captain Fisher looked around at the carnage of zombies while they waited for someone to open the door to the Queen Mary. Clint returned to the driver’s seat of the Escalade. Mark was busy looking around under the ramp to make sure none of the zombies were hiding there. The parking lot was covered with crumpled bodies, some of which were still moving, but none of which were walking. A squad of Marines was moving slowly and carefully among the mangled zombies, delivering single shots to the heads of any that still showed signs of activity. Sergeant Major O’Hara was directing the operation, but seemed confident that the situation was well in hand because he walked over to join Scott’s group before the door opened.
“Nice piece of work,” Scott complimented O’Hara and his men. “There must have been five hundred zombies out there. Your men and machines cut them down like ripe wheat.”
“Can’t say we enjoyed it,” O’Hara replied. “But there is a certain satisfaction in a job well done. And I must say that these buggers make it rather easy, the way they come right at you. No need to beat the bushes to flush out these nasties. Just set the bait and they come running. As long as we have gas for the Amtracs and bullets for our rifles, they don’t stand a chance on open ground.”
Just then there was a sound of squeaking metal and the old door in the side of the ship slid open a few inches. A man’s face appeared and he looked at them suspiciously. Then he said, “Thank you for dealing with the zombies out there. We are very grateful. The general manager, Mr. Kroeker, wants me to let you in now. I just want to know who you are first.”
“I’m Commodore Scott Allan, in command of the Survival Flotilla. This is Captain Fisher of the Sovereign Spirit and Sergeant Major O’Hara of the United States Marines. My associate, Mark Argus, will be waiting out here with the rest of the Marines. And who might you
be?” Scott responded.
“Oh, sorry,” said the man holding the door. “I’m Sergeant Clyde Lusk of the Long Beach Police. I guess you better come in before more of those damned zombies show up again.”
“Thanks, we’ll be happy to come aboard,” replied Scott. “But you needn’t worry about being surrounded by zombies again as long as we’re around.” The door slid fully open and Scott’s party stepped into the old ship. The man with brown hair and eye glasses who had called down to them from the deck was also there and he stepped forward to greet them.
“Welcome aboard ,the Queen Mary,” he said with a smile. “I’m Conrad Kroeker, GM of the hotel here and nominal captain of the ship, so to speak, not that we’ll be sailing her anywhere. I heard your introductions to Sergeant Lusk and I’m happy to have you aboard. Let’s step into the museum over here where we have some more light set up.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Kroeker, lead the way,” Scott said.
“Please call me Conrad, Commodore.”
“Scott, if you please.”
“Great, Scott,” said Conrad, then paused to laugh at his unintentional pun. “Great Scott indeed! That was a Hell of a thing your men did out there. Our situation has been getting desperate here. I think you just saved all of us from a slow death by thirst or starvation. How can we repay your kindness?”
“That’s what we came to discuss,” Scott said and saw Sergeant Lusk look at him suspiciously. “We won’t ask anything from you now. In fact, we plan to give you supplies and even some weapons to help you survive here. We want to help you turn this old ship into a safe haven, a fortress of sorts that we can all use as a secure base for missions to collect things ashore that we will all need to survive.” Scott saw their questioning looks.
“It won’t just be us relying on those supplies,” Scott explained. “We’re leading a flotilla of refugees on private yachts from down south, some as far as Cabo San Lucas. Then there are all those boats tied up to the oil islands off Long Beach. We’ll try to help them too. There are a lot more boat people up north and out on Catalina from the reports we are getting.”
“Boat people?” asked Conrad.
“Yes,” Captain Fisher interjected. “That’s what we call the people who have survived by going to sea, or staying on boats in secure marinas and harbors, where zombies can’t get to them. We’re working with the Coast Guard, and these Marines here, to help the people on all of those boats. I know there are lots more people trying to survive ashore, but we can’t help them all. So our focus now is on saving the people at sea, people like ourselves. As far as I’m concerned, that includes your people on the Queen Mary. She’s still a ship, after all. Isn’t she?”
“Yes, of course she is. Thank you, sir,” Conrad said in a dazed tone of voice.
“You can rest assured that we will help as many survivors ashore that we can,” Scott explained. “But our primary goal is to set up safe havens and sources of provisions for our flotilla and other boat people. So, what we came to ask you is if you would be interested in working with us by turning the Queen Mary into a stronghold for our provisioning expeditions in Long Beach and the Port of Los Angeles. The fact that you all survived here proves that the ship is zombie-proof when you close the doors. Now that we are here we’ll try to secure the area from zombie infestation. In return all we would ask is for you to offer the Queen Mary as a safe haven for us and the boat people who will come looking for provisions.”
“That’s quite a plan,” replied Conrad. “I’m not sure I even understand all of it. What exactly could you do to help us? And what would you require of us in return?” By now they were all standing in a large space filled with maritime relics and display cases depicting the proud history of the Queen Mary. Light was provided by half a dozen old oil fueled lanterns which cast eerie shadows and glowing reflections off the museum display cases.
“Well, for starters,” Scott explained. “I think we can help you get electricity again. And you mentioned problems with your water supply? Well, I think we can solve that for you too. Of course we’ll also help you find food and other supplies. And we’ll provide you with some guns and ammo to defend yourselves. But let’s set the details aside for a moment.”
Conrad nodded as Scott continued, “What we would ask of you in return is to offer the same type of assistance to other boat people, after you have the ability to do so. Eventually I want to set up a secure floating dock on the outside of your breakwater, with gangways connecting it to your ship, higher than any zombie can reach. Then I want you to let other boat people come to visit, relax, trade, and form recovery groups to get their own supplies from the mainland. We’ll also want your people to help us secure Terminal Island from zombie infestation and create a larger safe haven. The Queen Mary would remain the primary stronghold here and a place of refuge in case the zombies ever break through again. And you would remain in command of this ship. Does all of that make sense to you?”
“It sounds fantastic.” replied Conrad. “A lot better than any of us had hoped for. I mean we all knew that there were a lot of supplies and things we need right across the street in the cargo terminals, but we were trapped here with only two hand guns among three hundred and twenty people. We had no hope of getting any supplies at all because we were surrounded by zombies. I thought we were doomed to a slow death. Now you’ve relieved the siege and promise so much more! I can’t thank you enough and I’m sure I can get everyone else here to go along with your plan.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Conrad,” Scott said. “Based on your assurance, we’ll proceed to set up the first phase of giving you what you’ll need to make the Queen Mary a viable stronghold.” Scott and Conrad shook hands and they all returned to the open cargo door in the old ship’s side.
Mark was waiting for them on the ramp, still scanning the area for additional threats. The Marines had completed their mercy mission of dispatching crushed zombies and were climbing back into the Amtracs. O’Hara went over to give orders for one of the Amtracs to remain on guard in the parking lot and wipe out any zombies that showed up. Then he returned to join Scott’s group in the SUV and they drove swiftly back to the Sovereign Spirit.
*****
Things happened fast after that. Scott and Captain Fisher selected ten of the crew from the Sovereign Spirit and asked them to volunteer for a recovery operation. All of those chosen were willing to go when the reason was explained to them. Half an hour later the Sovereign Spirit pulled away from the Cruise Ship pier and turned to circle past Terminal Island and move slowly into the southern cargo ship basin in the Port of Long Beach. This was a manmade port with over a mile of pier space that could service at least seven large container ships at a time. There were only two ships docked there now.
The Sovereign Spirit moved alongside the ship closest to the entrance of the basin. The name on her hull was Reliable Burden with a home port of Hong Kong. She was at least 700 feet long, high at the bow, low amidships where containers were stacked, with a large superstructure astern. The cargo deck was currently less than half full of twenty and forty foot containers. There was no way to tell from a distance what the containers carried. There was no immediate sign of life – or the undead – aboard either, which suited Scott just fine.
Captain Fisher maneuvered right up to the container ship and the volunteers jumped across to the secure the two ships together. They were followed by a squad of Marines who spread out to sweep the ship in search of zombies or survivors. They found five of each. The zombies were shot and the survivors, once released from the galley where they had barricaded themselves, were brought on deck for questioning. They were all Filipinos who spoke functional English and they were a gold mine of information. The Reliable Burden had arrived in port two days before the zombie outbreak. These uninfected survivors had been part of the skeleton crew who did not get shore leave during the unloading and loading process. The unloading of consumer electronics from China had gone smoothly. They had begun loa
ding American export containers the night before Z Day. The exciting news was that almost all of the containers they loader were Reefers. These were intermodal containers with built-in refrigeration systems used to transport fresh food and other perishables. They were always placed in the lower part of the container stacks because they required power hook-ups for the refrigeration units in each of them.
“Outstanding!” commented Captain Fisher when this news reached the bridge of the Sovereign Spirit. “Is the power still working?”
“We’re looking into that now, sir” reported Chief Engineer Lunt who was leading the volunteers aboard the Reliable Burden. “The ship’s generators are running at maintenance levels and it looks like most of the reefer containers are plugged in, so the chances are good that refrigeration is being maintained.”
“Excellent!” said Fisher. “Do we know what’s in the containers?”
“I’ve got the intended manifest,” Lunt replied. “But I haven’t found any list of what was actually put aboard before zombies halted the process. If we’re lucky, we could have a lot of great stuff though. Three containers on the manifest were full of frozen hamburgers and chicken nuggets for McDonalds in Hong Kong. Three more should be full of frozen turkeys. Two containers are listed as assorted frozen dinners. Five others should have meat ranging from USDA Choice beef to lamb and cooked hams. There are a total of six containers listed as fresh produce. And I see at least a dozen non-refrigerated containers listed in the category of dry staple foods. Even if those are all still on the dock, they should be fine.”
“I think we just hit a jackpot!” exclaimed Scott. “Find out how the ship is set for fuel, especially for the generators. And ask about fresh water making capacity.” Captain Fisher relayed the request and learned that the ship had been fully refueled before the zombies appeared and that the generators used the same fuel as the engines. Running only the generators would provide close to a full year of power without any additional refueling. The water makers were also working and could convert more than five thousand gallons of sea water into drinking water per day. The crew said they would have put to sea if there had been a bridge officer aboard to sail it before the zombies came onto the ship. Instead they were only able to close the door to keep more zombies from coming aboard and lock themselves in the ward room for the past week. They were all very happy to be rescued and would be glad to help in any way they could.
02 Flotilla of the Dead Page 2
