02 Flotilla of the Dead

by David Forsyth

  *****

  Scott was returning to the Sovereign Spirit in the Cigarette boat when he spotted Captain McCloud leaving one of the cruise ships in the Interceptor, so he changed course to meet up with him. Both boats slowed as they met outside the harbor and Scott raised his voice to say, “We should meet to discuss the situation in town!”

  “And we need to talk about what happened on the cruise ships too!” McCloud yelled back. “My ship or yours?” he asked with a grim smile.

  “Mine’s closer!” replied Scott and both boats sped to the Sovereign Spirit. As soon as they boarded through the lowered rear ramp Scott told him about the armed thugs who had been terrorizing the town and hoarding all the supplies. He explained that the local police and harbor master had been killed several days ago and anarchy had reigned ever since. “What I can’t understand is why the Coast Guard didn’t intervene here,” Scott concluded.

  “I have the same concerns about what happened on the cruise ships too,” Captain McCloud agreed. Then he told Scott how upset he was that the local Coast Guard had ignored the zombies and trapped passengers on the Oosterdam. “It doesn’t make any sense, Scott. The local commander has all of his cutters and helicopters over at the Wrigley Institute, with at least a hundred Guardsmen. They’re just a few miles up the coast. But he’s not using them to help any of the people down here. You should have seen those poor passengers when we rescued them. Most of them hadn’t eaten anything in almost two weeks. Thank God they had bathrooms with running water. And they had phones in their rooms, so they could talk to the crew and other passengers. But they had been terrified that nobody would ever come to save them.”

  “So how did you get them out?” Scott asked.

  “The hard way,” McCloud said grimly. “We went in with M-16s and shotguns. There were dozens of zombies in those passageways. Ten of my men made quick work of them. But the local Coast Guard could have done the same thing a week ago, damn it. It would have prevented a lot of fear and suffering, and probably more than a few deaths. Some of those trapped people couldn’t take it anymore and tried to get past the zombies. None of them made it.”

  “The Coast Guard probably could have saved lives in Avalon too,” Scott pointed out. “Even a small show of force might have kept those armed thugs from running wild. They probably could have saved the lives of the local police and harbor patrol too, not to mention the rapes and murders after they were killed. So why didn’t they intervene?”

  “That’s exactly what I plan to find out, Scott,” answered Captain McCloud seriously. “Would you and a few of your Marines care to join me for a quick trip to Wrigley Institute?”

  Scott raised an eyebrow as he said, “You think you’ll need the Marines to visit your own Coast Guard base?”

  “Honestly, Scott, I don’t know what to think,” Captain McCloud replied. “I used to know the commander of the Los Angeles Area quite well, but it sounds like there’s a new commander now. I outrank him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll listen to me or follow my orders. Your credentials from DHS outrank us all and those Marines add another element of authority. So I’d feel more comfortable if we deal with this together.”

  “Say no more,” Scott smiled. He had felt the same way each time he asked Captain McCloud to lend the credibility of the Coast Guard to Scott’s command of the newly formed Survival Flotilla. “Shall we take your choppers, or mine?”

  “Actually,” McCloud replied, “I was thinking of taking the Stratton down there at full speed. There’s nothing like a warship approaching at thirty knots when it comes to gunboat diplomacy.”

  “I like the way you think, Captain,” said Scott with a chuckle. “In that case I might as well bring my Marines along in the Cigarette boat. They’ll be more visible that way and we can do eighty knots if we have to.”

  *****

  A few minutes later the USCG Stratton was pulling away from Avalon as she lowered her rear ramp to recover Captain McCloud in the Interceptor. The Stratton was one of the first cutters designed to launch and recover her patrol boats while underway, using a stern recovery system that allowed a fast patrol boat to zoom right in or out of its cradle at cruising speed. Scott was conning the Cigarette with Mark and five Marines, led by Sergeant Washington, strapped into the other seats in the open cockpit. They easily kept pace with the big Coast Guard cutter as it accelerated to over 28 knots and charged north towards Two Harbors. The ten mile trip was swift and without incident, until they rounded the last headland and saw the collection of other Coast Guard vessels anchored off the coast of the Wriggly Institute.

  Scott recognized the buoy tender that they overflew earlier, along with two smaller Protector Class cutters. Each was less than a hundred feet long. They were all dwarfed by the Stratton. But they indicated that the Coast Guard did indeed have a force on Catalina that could have been used to keep law and order during the crisis. Instead they seemed to have set up a purely defensive outpost at the isolated Wriggly Institute. Scott also noticed that while the rest of the Two Harbors anchorage was packed with the yachts of refugee Boat People, the area around the Coast Guard ships and the Institute was curiously free of any private vessels. Were they being kept away by the Coast Guard cutters that should have been helping them?

  Captain McCloud reduced the Stratton’s speed as they approached the anchored Coast Guard vessels and let loose several deafening blasts from the ship’s powerful horn. Scott was monitoring the Coast Guard radio frequency and heard McCloud announce his arrival and request an urgent meeting with the commanding officer of the local Coast Guard assets on Catalina. There was no reply for several minutes, during which the Stratton made a slow turn until her bow and main gun turret pointed towards the Wriggly Institute and the smaller cutters anchored in front of it. This was not necessarily a hostile move, but Scott remembered the feelings that he had felt when the big cutter did the same thing to the Sovereign Spirit off the coast of Mexico. There was definitely something to be said for the authority reflected by the barrel of a 57mm automatic canon pointed in your direction. However, the radio response, when it came, was not exactly what Scott and Captain McCloud had expected.

  “Attention Cutter Stratton,” said a rather harsh and nervous voice. “This is Captain Fowler, commanding the Los Angeles Coast Guard District. You are entering a free fire quarantine zone. We will not allow direct contact with any outsiders due to the threat of infection. Withdraw immediately.”

  It must have taken Captain McCloud a few moments to process that threat. Once it sank in he replied firmly, “This is Captain McCloud of the national security cutter Stratton, attached to the Survival Flotilla by authority of Homeland Security, FEMA, and the Center for Disease Control, with confirming authorization from the US Navy. There is no infection aboard this ship, but there is a lot of firepower and Guardsmen who have been busy saving vessels in distress and killing zombies while you’ve been hiding out here. You will stand down, Captain Fowler, and report aboard the Stratton within ten minutes, or face charges of dereliction of duty, mutiny and treason. If necessary, I will send fully armed United States Marines to escort you here. Is that clear?”

  Scott couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the effect that message must be making on the apparently cowardly Captain Fowler. His smile widened as he thought of what all the other Coast Guard officers under Fowler’s command must be thinking of the conversation being conducted over the open radio frequency. He knew that most of them must be just as disgusted with their orders to defend Fowler’s headquarters, instead of help all of the Boat People around the island, as Captain McCloud was. Fowler’s response was almost pathetic.

  “Don’t you understand what’s happening here, Captain McCloud? This is the end of the world! Your orders and authority don’t mean anything now! All that matters now is our own survival, and the best way to guarantee that is to prevent contact with outsiders! Why can’t you just leave us alone?” The illogic of his argument was obvious to Scott. Captain McCloud
was quick to point it out too.

  “If Coast Guard orders and authority don’t mean anything to you anymore, Captain Fowler, then you should have no objection to being removed from command. Consider it done as of right now. Your men are no longer under any obligation to follow your orders. And if you are really that afraid of contact with any other people, then I suggest that you just walk off into the wilderness of this island by yourself right now. I won’t even chase you. But the rest of your men will follow my orders, or face the same charges that you do. Is that clear?”

  The effects of Captain McCloud’s message were as swift as they were decisive. Within moments the radio frequency was alive with transmissions from other Coast Guard officers on the cutters and helicopters surrounding the Wriggly Institute pledging their allegiance to Captain McCloud’s command. He issued orders for two of the three smaller cutters to weigh anchor and set course for Avalon. The buoy tender and the other cutter were instructed to remain at Two Harbors and assist the Boat People there until replenishment boats from the Flotilla arrived. Two Dolphin and one Seahawk helicopters were ordered to remain on stand-by at the Wriggly Institute, while the third Dolphin was ordered to take more supplies up to the Airport in the Sky and remain to provide security and assistance to the refugee pilots there.

  Scott was encouraged by the enthusiasm with which McCloud’s new followers embraced his command. They may have simply been trying to clear their consciences of the stain of cowardice that Captain Fowler’s orders had imposed on their record, but Scott thought that any form of motivation that drove them back to the path of duty was admirable now. Word came that Captain Fowler had been placed under arrest in the modular house he had occupied at the Wriggly Institute. All of the other Coast Guard personnel were following Captain McCloud’s orders without question. Scott and the Marines aboard the Cigarette boat were in high spirits as they sped back to the Sovereign Spirit at better than 60 knots.

  *****

  “I’d like you to come with me to the Avalon Casino tonight, honey,” Scott said to Michelle an hour later as he was changing his clothes in their Sky Deck master suite. “You haven’t been off the ship since we were in the Galapagos Islands last month, except for that tour of Terminal Island. There’s no infection here and we need to start off on the right foot with the locals and all of these Boat People who will be looking to us for leadership.”

  “You know I hate being the center of attention, Scott,” replied Michelle. “And I never really liked Avalon anyway. Besides, you don’t need to show me off like I was the First Lady or something. Why don’t you go with your friends and let me keep working on this painting?”

  Scott stifled a curse and tried a different approach. “There will be hundreds of families there, most of them from the boats out in the harbor. I don’t want them to be intimidated by me and a panel of old seamen and military officers. We need to give the Survival Flotilla a friendly human face and yours is the most beautiful I one I can think of, at least on short notice.” Scott knew her well enough to duck away from the slap she swung towards the back of his head. Then he turned and wrapped her in his arms and kissed her as she pretended to resist.

  “Must I?” she said in a plaintive voice as she broke away from his lips.

  “Yes, my dear, I’m afraid I must insist on the pleasure of your company tonight,” replied Scott with a jocular tone of voice. “Seriously, honey, it’s important to me and probably a lot of others too. Now run along and grab one of those stunning black dresses that you love so much. Considering the situation, I think black will be quite appropriate. And you do look very sexy in black.”

  “As do you, sir,” she responded slyly. “Okay. I’ll go with you. But only to make sure you don’t flirt with any other women.” Michelle was smiling as she turned towards her closet to pick out a black dress.

  *****

  Scott’s Cigarette boat approached the dock in front of the Avalon Casino after the sun had set behind the island’s hills, but long before true night had fallen. An 87 foot Coast Guard cutter, the Blacktip out of Oxnard, and a twelve man Marine honor guard were waiting there for Scott and Michelle to arrive. Scott held Michelle’s hand as they stepped off the speed boat and walked up the dock. The Marines and Coast Guardsmen on the dock came to attention and saluted. Scott returned their salutes with earnest respect and Michelle glanced at him with questioning eyes, realizing perhaps for the first time that her husband was indeed a real leader now.

  The honor guard fell in on either side of the procession of Flotilla leaders. Scott and Michelle led the group. Captain McCloud and Sergeant Major O’Hara walked side by side behind them. Captains Knight and Fisher formed the third row. Captain Mathews, commanding the old Lane Victory, walked next to Captain Kim of the Traveling Trader in the fourth row. Mark Argus and Clint Murdock, with what remained of his left arm wrapped in bandages, rounded out the fifth and final row. This was the first time Clint had left the ship since the amputation and he seemed to be enjoying the experience. Scott had included him in the delegation so that he could be introduced as the only known survivor of a zombie bite. Mark had insisted on accompanying him. The group walked through crowds of locals and boat people who had been too late to find seats inside the Casino and would be listening to the proceedings over loudspeakers outside the building.

  The old Wrigley Casino had been renovated recently and restored to much of its famous grandeur. The first floor was a unique theater, with an oval shape and famous art deco murals, where they showed movies, and occasional plays and concerts. Each of the 1,184 seats was filled, but they would be watching Scott’s presentation on the big screen through a video projector that would cover the event upstairs in the Grand Casino Ballroom. Local community leaders, including Mr. Green who Scott had met after the supermarket shootout, led the Flotilla delegation up the private stairway to the ballroom’s backstage entrance.

  “This is the Green Room,” said Mr. Green as he led them into a room that was indeed painted green. “There’s a lot of history here. Benny Goodman spent a lot of time here preparing for his evening dance concerts. If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll make sure the stage and audience are ready for your entrance.” Scott nodded and Michelle thanked him.

  “Isn’t this all a little much?” she whispered to Scott. “What are you planning to tell these people anyway? What’s the point to all of this?”

  “You’ll see soon enough, honey,” Scott replied softly. “This could be an historic moment. Just smile and go along with it, okay?”

  “Damn you, Scott Allen,” she hissed while maintaining a smile. “What are you planning to do now?” He only smiled back and squeezed her hand gently as Mr. Green returned to usher them onto the stage.

  The curtain was still drawn across the front of the stage and the crowd beyond was generating a hubbub of sounds as Scott and the rest of his party took their seats behind tables that had been placed on either side of a microphone podium. Scott gestured for Mr. Green to wait a moment as he pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to Marty Larson, the communications tech aboard the Sovereign Spirit. After a brief exchange Scott nodded as he hung up and signaled that he was ready to raise the curtain.

  *****

  Back aboard the ship Marty Larson was very busy as he initiated a simulcast via satellite TV, streaming internet video, and a low power UHF television broadcast, as well as a high power AM radio transmission. The Sovereign Spirit would use all of her communications technology to share this event with as many survivors as possible along the coast of California and around the world.

  The video cameras that were bringing the event to those in the theater below the Casino Ballroom were also transmitting wirelessly to the Sovereign Spirit which had moved to within a couple hundred yards of the Casino. Additional cameras were transmitting from inside the theater and from the Super Huey that Mick Williams was flying over Avalon, as well as cameras set up on the Sovereign Spirit herself. Marty would have the job of mixing all of the video fee
ds, as well as some stock footage that they had compiled since Z-Day, and matching them to the audio coming from the ballroom. It would be challenging, but Scott had shared the outline of his speech so that Marty would be able to anticipate the appropriate shots.

  An hour earlier, just before he left for the Casino, Scott had sent a series of messages to GNN and military commanders in San Diego, informing them of an important broadcast that would be made from Catalina. Marty had now received confirmation that GNN was monitoring his television feeds via both satellite and internet and would be showing Scott’s event live on the Global News Network. Marty confirmed that the cruise ships anchored nearby were also receiving his broadcast and sharing it with their passengers. Everything was up and running as the curtain was raised on the stage of the Grand Casino Ballroom in Avalon.

  *****

  There was thundering applause when the curtain rose to reveal the delegation from the Survival Flotilla. The people of Avalon and the Boat People were eager to express their gratitude to the Flotilla for bringing desperately needed supplies and dealing with the lawless thugs who had terrorized Avalon. Scott stepped up to the podium and smiled in acknowledgement as he motioned for silence. It took close to a minute for the crowd to quiet down enough for Scott to speak. He estimated that there were at least two thousand people in the room and almost all of them were enthusiastic in their welcome. Scott was pleased to see at least three video cameras capturing the event from the judge’s stand in the back of the room. As the sound level fell towards a tolerable level Scott began his presentation.

  “Residents of Avalon, refugees from the boats surrounding Catalina Island, and everyone else who can hear my voice – take heart and hope from the events of today. After twelve days of fear and terror, help has arrived for the tens of thousands of people on and around Catalina.” He was forced to pause as the applause erupted again, but he quickly hushed them and continued.