02 Flotilla of the Dead

by David Forsyth

  *****

  Carl was sick and tired of listening to Karen’s screams. So were the two Marines operating the Amtrac. Karen just sat on one of the benches in the armored personnel carrier and smiled at him. Her voice would have given out long ago, if Carl hadn’t brought a digital voice recorder that Scott had provided during the planning stage. He had recorded about three minutes of Karen’s screaming, then set it on a loop and held the recorder up to the microphone for the PA system. I was still working like a charm, or a patented zombie lure.

  He looked out one of the open firing ports and saw that they had reached the last segment of their route. The Amtrac was driving down Miner Street with the Cabrillo Marina on its’ right side and open docks of the Bulkbreak Terminal on the left. He was relieved to see two red fire boats maneuvering next to the docks and quickly confirmed that a similar boat was positioned in the marina. The narrow peninsula they were driving down was mostly vacant land, with a construction site for the expansion of the marina coming up on the right. They would run out of road and land to lead the zombies down soon, but that was part of the plan.

  “Let’s button her up,” Carl said as he paused the recorded screams. The sniper in the turret dropped back in and closed the hatch behind him while Carl closed the firing ports in the upper hull. Then Carl squeezed into the turret with the young Marine to see out of the vision ports next to the grenade launcher and machine gun. He wanted to see how his plan panned out.

  A minute later they reached the end of Miner Street. It was a big loop in front of the entrance to the abandoned Berth 46. George, who had been studying the harbor and its history since assuming his new role a s Harbor Master, had provided some interesting input on that berth during the brief planning session for this operation. He explained that it used to be used for tankers to offload oil, but in 1976 a ship named the Sansinena had exploded, killing its crew and flattening the surrounding buildings. The bodies of a security guard and half a dozen dock workers had never been found. The unlucky berth had remained mostly unused since then and some of the locals thought the area was haunted. Carl planned to trap a lot more unlucky souls here today.

  The Amtrac drove around the loop and stopped, facing the pursuing horde, which closed in with relentless purpose. Did they think their prey was trapped? Perhaps so, if they were capable of any thought at all. They certainly seemed to pick up their pace as they closed in on the Amtrac from which hysterical screams still emanated. There was no way to count their numbers. Carl was reminded of a quote he couldn’t place at the moment. Was it the Devil who said “My name is Legion?” If so, he was here in force today.

  The first wave of zombies swarmed on and around the armored vehicle as thousands more descended for the kill. Were they disappointed when their teeth and hands failed to find flesh and rebounded from cold aluminum and steel? Carl didn’t care. He controlled his irrational fear and all too understandable revulsion as the horde engulfed the Amtrac. He knew that they were in no real danger. The zombies were simply beating themselves against the armored hull. But it felt wrong to just sit there and take it.

  “Let’s drive around the loop a few times and flatten some of these bastards,” he called down to the driver.

  “It’s your party,” he responded. “I’m game!” The Amtrac accelerated quickly and crushed dozens of zombies beneath its treads as it drove in a wide circle around the loop. They could have driven back through the entire horde and right back to the bridge, but that would defeat the purpose of Operation Pied Piper. Instead they continued to circle, blasting out terrified screams from the loudspeakers, squishing any zombies in their path, as the rest of the undead parade poured onto the narrow peninsula.

  They proceeded to repave the road with blood for almost five minutes as the ravenous horde swarmed around them. They must have killed close to a thousand zombies, but more arrived to take their place in front of the screaming zombie killing machine. It might have become routine, or even boring, if the men and woman inside of the vehicle weren’t constantly aware that even a minor malfunction, like a thrown tread or stalled engine, would trap them in the middle of the horde. They were all relieved when Scott radioed that the bulk of the zombies had passed the choke point on the peninsula. It was time to activate the final part of the plan.

  *****

  Scott gave the order to activate the final stage of Operation Pied Piper and waited expectantly. Most of the thousands of zombies that had been following the Amtrac were now crowding around it at the end of Miner Street. The slower zombies, many of whom looked crippled or injured, were still trickling into the trap, but all of the fast movers were already there. Everyone agreed that the fast ones posed the greatest threat. Scott decided it was time to get his people out of there.

  The Amtrac made one more pass through the mob of zombies, putting dozens more of them down, then turned towards the gate to the ill-fated Berth 46 and smashed through it at a healthy clip. The zombies ran after it with blind determination, but easily left behind. The armored personnel carrier seemed to accelerate and Scott hoped that the four people inside were bracing themselves what would come next. Scott watched through the binoculars as the AAV drove down a ramp and straight across the dock. It flew off and fell six feet into the water below, raising an enormous splash that momentarily obscured it from view.

  The Amtrac might have totally submerged for a second or two, but it bobbed to the surface. Then, like a whale spouting, the hydrojets kicked in and twin rooster tails erupted behind it. The AAV-7 moved away from Berth 46 as the befuddled zombies swarmed the dock and moaned in dismay. Scott wondered how many of them would make their way back to the bridge, if he let them, but the plan was to keep them here.

  Scott watched as first one and then another Fire Boat turned on their water cannon and began shooting powerful jets of water across Berth 52 and Miner Street. The horde’s stragglers who were caught in the downpour went into convulsions or shied away from the water as quickly as possible. However, the water cannons could not span the entire width of the 200 yard wide peninsula. There was still a 50 yard stretch of dry land where zombies continued to roam. Then the Fire Boat from Station 110 opened up with its own water cannon from inside the Cabrillo Marina. Its jet of water converged with those of the boats off of Berth 52 and the trap was closed.

  “Gotcha!” said Scott with satisfaction.

  “How have you saved the world now, honey?” asked Michelle in an almost mocking tone as she arrived on the flying bridge. She had been below in the salon talking with Mrs. Hammer previously, not wanting to listen to the screams or watch the zombies running down the streets, but seemed interested in what was going to happen to the horde of zombies.

  “It’s not what I did this time,” said Scott defensively. “The new guy, Carl, figured this one out on his own. I probably would have had the Marines waste all their ammunition stacking up bodies on the bridge. Carl came up with Operation Pied Piper to not only lead all the zombies away, but to find a place where we could contain them.”

  “Well, I’m impressed,” said Michelle. “Not only with the new guy, but with you for giving him credit for this. There may be hope for you yet, Commodore, darling.” She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him as she said that. Scott kissed her back and explained how they planned to contain the zombies.

  The Fire Boats all had orders to hold position and keep up a curtain of water for as long as it took to set up pumps and sprinklers inside the protective cones of their water cannons. Once the pumps and sprinklers were in place the Fire Boats could be withdraw and the sprinklers should contain the horde on the isolated docks. This should give everyone time to come up with a more permanent solution to the horde. Scott was leaning towards finding a way to kill them all efficiently. In any event, the water cannon and sprinkler defense concept that Carl had brought along with his convoy was priceless.

  The Amtrac was motoring into the middle of the Main Channel now, heading for the Coast Guard base where there was a boat launch ram
p it could use to drive up out of the water. Scott radioed Carl and told him he was coming to transfer him and Karen to his yacht. Then he told Stan Dawson to steer the Expiscator over to meet them halfway. He took Michelle by the hand went down to the aft fishing cockpit to welcome his new guests aboard.

  *****

  Carl and Karen were in high spirits as they climbed up through the hatch onto the top of the Amtrac’s hull. The driver had slowed to a stop next to the aft swim step of the yacht and the Commodore himself was there to welcome them aboard. He was smiling and there was a beautiful woman standing next to him.

  “Great job!” said Scott as he reached out to give Karen a hand when she hopped from the Amtrac to the boat. “Those screams really did the trick. I think you rounded up every zombie along the San Pedro waterfront. We might even be able conduct some salvage operations on that side of the channel now, at least until more of them wander down to the docks.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Karen Slade. “It was Carl’s idea, but I’ve had some practice over the past few days.” She smiled as she shook Scott’s hand and turned to meet Michelle.

  “Good show, Karen, Carl,” said Scott. “Let me introduce my lovely wife, Michelle. Honey, this is Karen Slade and Carl Stiller. They brought the convoy and the zombie horde to our gates. And now they have led the zombies away. They also brought us the key to holding these monsters off. Sprinklers! Carl was a genius to come up with that!”

  Carl might have been blushing as he said, “Actually, I just extrapolated the information you passed along to the media about their fear of water, sir.”

  “Fine,” said Scott, still smiling. “We can all share in the glory. I’m just glad that it worked! Now come on inside and make yourself a drink. I bet you could use one after that ride! You didn’t get hurt when the Amtrac took that dive into the water, did you?”

  “I think I bruised my elbow,” said Karen, still grinning. “But it was actually quite a smooth drop. I was afraid the thing would go straight to the bottom though. I’ll never understand how a big tank like that can float!”

  “I’ll explain it again later,” said Carl quietly as he escorted her into the salon and headed for the bar. This would be the first drink he had since Z-Day and he planned to make it a stiff one.

  “You can relax here for a few minutes, but then we’ll all be transferring over to the Sovereign Spirit where you can really get comfortable. There will also be a strategy meeting to discuss how your convoy will fit into the Safe Haven and our plans for the Survival Flotilla.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Carl. “I’m just glad I could help fix the problem that we caused by leading all those zombies to your safe haven. And I’ll be even happier if you let us all stay here.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Carl,” said Scott. “You’ve already earned your place with us. Even if you hadn’t figured out how to get rid of the zombies on the bridge, just getting here in that convoy would be enough to get you in. We won’t turn anyone away, as long as they are civilized and respect the rights of others. Your people have as much right to be here as we do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back up top to make sure they start deploying those sprinklers and coordinate our transfer to the ship.”

  Scott went back up to the flying bridge and used the binoculars to observe the behavior of the zombies trapped by the fire boats’ water cannons. Many of the zombies had already tried to head back now that their prey had eluded them, but they were stymied by the water barrier that blocked their path. Scott was amazed to see how they shied away from the falling spray of water and seemed to show behavior that bordered on agitation or even fear. This was probably the greatest discovery since the outbreak. It offered a real mode of defense against these things. Scott knew that he needed to spread the news as soon as possible. Countless lives depended on it.

  The activity ashore was going per plan. Men in yellow rain slickers had landed inside the cone of safety created by the water cannon and were laying out hoses and sprinklers across the 200 yard width of the isolated peninsula. Scott could see that the zombies wanted to run in and attack the sprinkler crew, but the water held them back. Barges mounting powerful pumps were also being positioned close to shore to operate the sprinklers. Yes, it was all working as planned, so Scott told Stan to set course for the Sovereign Spirit where he could see that the helicopter had already returned to rest.

  Chapter 10: The End of the Beginning

  “Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end, but it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” Winston Churchill

  Billy was getting bored and depressed. His experiences on the rescue mission to Malibu and the expedition to the armory on Terminal Island had certainly been exciting, even terrifying, but his current assignment from his father to search the internet for other survivors was becoming monotonous and depressing, to say the least. Oh, there were plenty of survivors out there. Many of them were contacting him through the sovereignspirit.net website, especially after his dad had mentioned it on GNN. But none of them seemed to have any good news to share.

  Billy had read and responded to emails from across the USA and many more from places he even knew existed, though he considered himself well travelled for his age. Where the heck was Addis Ababa? When he asked they said it was on the corner of the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, like saying the corner of 7th and Wishire in Santa Monica. Google Earth helped and Billy now knew where Addis Ababa was, but all he really knew was that it was too far away to worry about. Of course he was glad that some people there had secured an ancient fort at the harbor, but he was sad to learn that they were surrounded by zombies.

  The news was just as dismal from places closer to home. A boy in Scottsdale, Arizona, wanted to chat online to keep his mind off the zombies, including his parents, who were trying to break into the guest house in his back yard where he had run to when his mother attacked his father. A girl in Waco, Texas, was trapped inside a motor home in her driveway while zombies pounded on the outside. That one really got to him. He had spent half an hour asking if she could find the keys to drive the RV, or contact someone closer to help her. His last few emails went unanswered. That wasn’t boring. It was depressing. It was horrifying.

  There did seem to be some good news from the Pacific Northwest. He had lots of contacts in Seattle and along the Oregon Coast. They reported zombie sightings and mayhem, but said that they were okay. They just wanted to know what was happening in the rest of the world. Billy didn’t have a clue, except that most of it was overrun and off the net. What else could he say? He didn’t even want to think about the messages he was getting from the East Coast. Talk about depressing! Billy was busy logging his latest contacts when Justin and Jake burst into the internet café and nearly gave him a heart attack with their excitement.

  “Have you seen what your dad just did?” shouted Justin.

  “It’s totally awesome!” Jake interjected.

  “Come out on deck and look at this.” Justin urged. “You won’t believe it.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” asked Billy as he pulled his eyes away from the latest emailed plea for help that he couldn’t offer.

  “Come and see. It’s unbelievable,” said Justin. “They trapped thousands of zombies on the docks and they’re keeping them there by spraying water at them!”

  *****

  Professor Willard Bernhard was confused. He had spent days studying his findings. They simply didn’t make sense. His current project was probably the most important one of his life, but the results of his research were also the most astounding. He was absolutely convinced that the so-called “zombie” virus was man-made. He was even confident that he knew which men had created the virus and where. The part he couldn’t comprehend was who had been able to unleash it on the world. The why of it was completely outside of his scope of work, if not interest.

  “Miss Hanson?” he asked. “Can you show me the last results from the tests on Subject Two?”

&n
bsp; “Of course, Doctor,” his assistant replied. “I’ll pull them right up for you.” She moved across the high-tech lab to computer console and quickly entered the requested inquiry. The full spectrum of test results on Clint Murdock came up on the computer screen in front of Professor Bernhard.

  “Do you see anything strange here?” Bernhard asked his assistant.

  “Besides the fact that he didn’t get infected?” she asked.

  “No,” replied the professor. “He did get infected. He was bitten by one of them. He was infected. I can see the trace indications on his chart. My question is why he didn’t convert.”

  “Well, the amputation must have saved him,” she replied in a tone that reflected the obvious. “The virus didn’t have a chance to get into the rest of his body.”

  “Not much of it, perhaps,” said Bernhard in a distracted tone of voice. “But some of it did get through. Look at the spectrograph and Ph balance scales. Then look at the white blood cell and antibody levels. He might not have fallen victim to the full effects of the virus, but… Oh my God, he’s a carrier.”

  *****

  “So what brings you here?” Clint asked an attractive woman sitting next to him at the bar on the aft deck of the Sovereign Spirit. She smiled sadly and seemed to consider the question before answering.

  “My husband was eaten by zombies. A womanizer in an RV picked me up in Cabo and brought me to this ship. I had no choice in the matter.”

  “You were the woman in Pedregal?” Clint responded. “Shit! I almost blew your head off, but Scott told us to hold our fire. He saw that you were normal. Mark and I were ready to blast anyone that got in the way of that RV. Wow. I know Mr. Hammer can rub some people the wrong way, but you really lucked out.”