The Living Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Coast

by Albemont, L. I.

  More rocks from the lower section of the cliff that seemed so solid tumbled to the floor of the canyon leaving a gap large enough to crawl behind the barrier. As they climbed the rocks began to fall and scatter and the dead slid down to the base. The builders had planned for this even though none of them thought the dead would ever make it past the steel and concrete forms. The scree was the second line of defense. They knew the slope was unstable, too unstable to climb.

  What they hadn’t anticipated was that the sheer weight of the dead would press down and stabilize the rocks eventually giving them a climbable slope all the way up to the cliffs. The cliffs stopped them for now, but the corpses on top were already picking and hammering at the rock, causing it to collapse and crush them. Their fellows simply stepped on top of them and continued to claw their way up.

  The camp prepared to flee. Bea came upon Virginia helping Daniel and Anna put their packs on. She hoisted Greg up on her hip before picking up her own pack. All three children were calm, possibly because Virginia was so matter-of-fact about what was going on.

  “Okay, guys, here’s what’s going to happen. Remember the boats we inflated? Probably in a few minutes we’re taking them down to the beach where we’ll float out to another boat, a really big one. We’ll probably get our own room there after we clear the sick people out.”

  “Can we go swimming?” Daniel wanted to know.

  “Probably not but we might do a little fishing in a few days.”

  “What about the chickens?” Anna asked. All of the children had been excited about the chickens.

  Virginia paused. “I hadn’t thought about that. Come with me and let’s look for them.” She turned. “Bea, see you in a minute? Nothing has changed. Men are going in the advance boats to start clearing out any hostiles. We follow with the children.”

  “Virginia, I’m going with the advance party. Brian and Moshe are, too.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. Here, I have this canvas jacket and I doubt I’ll need it. It’ll give you some protection against bites. Be safe, Bea.” She handed over the jacket. “Come on guys, the chickens are probably roosting in the trees unless someone has already loaded them.”

  Bea flew down the hill where Brian and Moshe waited near the rafts. Several of the little boats already bobbed along the waves, the setting sun casting a glare that made it hard to see. Carrying the raft above their heads they ran toward the surf. Decomposed corpses lay along the beach, some still moving feebly, others motionless. Moshe and Brian took care to step on every rotting skull along the way, pounding it when they got a “juicy” one.

  “There is something seriously wrong with the Y chromosome,” she muttered under her breath. Out loud she said, “Guys, stop it. Let’s go.”

  They paddled furiously until they got past the breakers where the evening wind seemed to make them soar across the waves. Debris, planks and bodies sloshed in the water around them. The huge, hulking ships towered in the distance, menacingly dark with the setting sun behind them. A few boats had already reached their target and figures climbed the twisting grappling rope ladders, swaying with the movement of the ship and struggling to hang on.

  So far, both ships remained silent. Half-expecting to be shelled at any moment they covered the last few yards and drew up beside the other rafts. Their ladder hooked on the third try but only one of the hooks latched. They tried to pull it down for another try but the hook held fast.

  Looking back they saw more boats heading away from shore. They needed to finish this as soon as possible. The plan was to clear the boat in stages obviously starting with the deck. Once that was safe, the children would board. After that they would move on below deck. They expected that stage to be…complicated.

  “I’m going first. Once I’m up I’ll fix the other hook.”

  She was halfway up when the ship pitched, slamming her into the metal hull, knocking the breath out of her. She gripped the ropes, wrapping them around her forearms until she got her breath back. Above her the hook scraped along the railing, sliding several feet to the right. She looked down and was surprised to feel terrified at how far the little boat was below her. She had never feared heights before.

  Focusing on the railing looming above was better. She took a deep breath and climbed slowly, fearing another pitch of the ship, forcing her legs to stop shaking. After an eternity she gained the top. There were several figures clustered along the rails in the distance but she couldn’t tell what they were doing. She yanked the ladder up and fastened both hooks securely. Brian began to climb with Moshe close behind. The wind caught them and they swayed far out over the water. What she thought were screams of terror turned out to be those of delight instead and she rolled her eyes as they clambered over the railing, still laughing.

  “Come on. Weapons ready,” she said, pulling out her knife. The boys followed and they made their way across the deck, learning to adjust their steps to the motion of the ship.

  The figures near the rail were their own people, David and Ian among them. They finished flinging a body over the side then came back for three more that lay prone on the deck, all wearing filthy blue uniforms. Broken skulls leaked black fluid onto the deck. They stepped around the noisome puddles and pitched the bodies into the waves.

  “There were just a few of them up here. Piece of cake,” David said. “The interesting part will be next.”

  “Yeah, can’t wait,” Ian said. “Come on; let’s get the kids up out of the water.”

  But the boats weren’t there. Looking back toward the shore they saw only two boats heading their way. There should be five. They searched the dark water for the others but-

  Bea exclaimed, “I see them! In the water, they must have gone down. They’re still alive, Look, you can see them waving!”

  The ladders still hung from the railing but their rafts had broken free of their moorings and were gone. Ian kicked off his shoes, and dived over the side. David, Cam, and more men followed. Bea stopped the boys.

  “Don’t. Someone has to be here to haul the children up. They’re too small to climb.”

  They could do nothing but watch as the men fought through the waves, trying to push those floating in the water into the remaining rafts which were now dangerously overloaded. One began to go down. They soon saw why.

  Dead, water-swollen hands pulled on the sides of the boat, trying to reach their prey inside. Water rushed into the little craft and they flipped, spilling the occupants into the cold water. The wind caught the children’s terrified screams and carried them out to Bea and the boys.

  Something moved in the corner of Bea’s vision and she looked to the right. A small flotilla of lifeboats with Chinese markings rounded the side of the ship, headed toward the hapless passengers. Paddling as if their lives depended on it, the blue-uniformed soldiers shouted as they raced across the waves, trying to catch the passengers’ attention.

  Reaching the scene they used the paddles to pull the passengers in, reaching out and snatching others away from the grasp of the hideous, ravening dead. Once they had a full boat, they fought through the floating debris of planks and dead, making for the ship where they tied the children to the ladders so Bea and the boys could haul them up. Their mothers struggled up next and collapsed onto the deck then gathered their children into their arms.

  Screams broke out as one woman realized her daughter was not among the children. She ran to the side, desperately scanning the waves before diving in. The dead were waiting and she didn’t re-surface.

  Bea waited with Anna and Daniel, both lying on the deck, exhausted and shivering. She took off Virginia’s canvas jacket and wrapped it around them. She hadn’t seen Virginia in the water and feared the worst. Moshe and Brian, still waiting at the rail, suddenly whooped and ran to the ropes. Bea ran too.

  David, swaying on the tossing ladder, climbed up and over the railing, falling onto the deck, exhausted. His skin looked blue and he shook uncontrollably. He looked at her intently for a moment then reach
ed for her. She gasped when he encircled her waist and pulled her toward him but his lips were surprisingly warm and he kissed her hard. He tasted like salt and honey.

  Ian climbed up next and he leaned over the side, shouting something encouragingly. He and the boys pulled the ropes and Virginia reached the rail and climbed onto the deck, still holding her son in her arms. Bea exclaimed and started forward then stopped. Greg’s eyes were closed; his head lolled across Virginia’s shoulder.

  Virginia sank to her knees. “He slipped out of my arms when the boat flipped. Please, God, please.”

  Greg’s hair, soft as down, was sodden and dripped water onto the deck. He didn’t move. Virginia turned him over, rubbed his back hard then turned him and kissed his pale, cold face. His arms flopped back as she held him closer in desperation, still rubbing his back, trying to warm him.

  Ian, a look of dawning horror on his face, took his boy and began to compress his chest, pinching his nostrils and breathing into his mouth with short, quick puffs. Greg lay limp and cold. Ian, hands shaking now, tried again but the baby didn’t respond. Virginia took him in her arms and began to scream, rocking her baby back and forth. It was a long time before she stopped.

  ~

  Bea, wearing rubber gloves and a surgical mask provided by their Chinese hosts, pulled another moldering husk of a body out into a cramped corridor and scanned the walls as she dragged it along. She didn’t want to get lost again. Private Tsou, noticing her confusion in the lower regions of the ship had taught her the Chinese character for “Exit” last night and she was eternally grateful. The ship was a giant and confusing labyrinth to her.

  Within minutes of rescuing everyone from the water last night, the Chinese opened up the passageway to below-decks and started rooting out and destroying their infected crewmen. This ship was identical to their own and they were familiar with the layout, even in the near-dark. The crew was busy until late in the night. Once they were done, the Americans volunteered to extract the infected remains. The Chinese allowed this but David noticed they were very cautious about letting them near certain sections of the ship.

  There was no time to worry overmuch about it. The deck was freezing after dark and they desperately needed to get the children below. They had sustained heavy losses and now numbered fewer than twenty souls. Most of their lost had been women and children and they had also lost Cam. No one had seen him go under but one of the children said the giant red-headed man had pushed her into a boat but she didn’t see him anymore after that. No one had seen Barry, Pam, or Colonel Hamilton again either.

  Mei made a point of working with Tsou last night and gleaned as much information as he was willing to give her. Apparently after he returned to the ship and gave the letter to his captain, he added his own personal plea for mutual assistance. The captain angrily ordered him confined to quarters. In spite of this, over the next two days he was able to talk to enough of the crew to spread the proposal around. There had already been a near-mutiny a few days ago in which the captain had been unable to confine (or execute) all of the rebels as the crew was already so reduced that no one was expendable.

  The morning of the evacuation Private Tsou and his co-conspirators made their move. The captain was relieved of command (at gunpoint) and tied up. After they disabled the ship and its weapons they released him and left him there. Tsou and a few others were already leaving for shore when they saw the refugee boats going down in the water.

  Mei relayed this information to David and others but she was uncharacteristically downcast since they had boarded the ship. It was understandable. They had all been through a lot and she was probably as exhausted as anyone. Nevertheless she spent hours with him and Private Tsou, interpreting while the three of them discussed their next moves. David still wanted to go north in hopes of finding a non-infested refuge with a water supply and tillable land.

  At the same time she was caring for Virginia and she was the only one able to calm her enough to get her into a cabin. She didn’t say so but Bea suspected Mei had sedated her. Every time she tried to visit, Virginia was asleep.

  Sighing she finished dragging the body up to the deck and Brian helped her toss it over the side. They skipped the sections near cargo hold number four last night, leaving them locked and off limits but this morning they had gone in and taken down the few infected still there. This body was the last one.

  The day had turned gray and the waves tossed restlessly. The ship had moved a short distance out to sea but the shore was still visible. The beach was dark with the roving dead and the water still thick with them. Multitudes of sharks hunted today, sleek dorsal fins slicing through the waves.

  Only one of the chickens had made it out to the boat. It pecked about the deck, clucking disconsolately.

  Ian was out on deck, holding his daughter in his arms. Her arms were around his neck and she was crying. Ian held her tightly and stared out at the waves. He looked ten years older than he had yesterday.

  “Ian, is there anything I can do? Have you eaten today?”

  Ian looked surprised. “I honestly have no idea.” He asked Anna gently, “Have you eaten anything today, baby girl?”

  She shook her head. “No, I want to see Mom first. I want Mom to wake up.”

  Ian held her even tighter. “I don’t think it’s safe for Mom to wake up right now. We have to wait a little longer.”

  Bea begged, “Please come below and eat something. Fitz got a lot of our supplies out and on board. At least come drink something warm.”

  “Maybe, in a little while.”

  Giving up, Bea went below, eventually finding her way to the galley where she encountered Fitz, who was in his element, distributing rations, assigning bunks, and happily predicting an eminent outbreak of Legionnaire’s disease, E. Coli., or both at once. He and the ship’s cook achieved a wary truce over meals only after the cook produced a delicious won-ton soup for all of them and no one had gotten sick, despite Fitz’s dire warnings. Bea wandered back to her assigned sleeping quarters.

  The ship, despite the lingering smell of dead bodies, was something of an improvement over the camp. Everyone had a bunk, a few had cabins. They had electricity and showers along with computer access. The Chinese were extremely reluctant to allow them on the computers and when Brian broke through their security to log on and changed the operating language to English they were very angry and threatened to lock him up until Mei intervened.

  He managed to change the majority of the system back to Chinese, leaving just two computers set up in English. That was the easy part. Gaining access to the failing internet took several hours and even then the connection was sporadic and slow. Systems were breaking down around the world.

  All at once the floor beneath her feet shuddered. She steadied herself and held onto the bunk until she regained her equilibrium. The entire ship now hummed with a slight vibration. They must have re-started the engines. She ran back to the deck, emerging just as the anchor was raised and they began to move.

  David had had his way and they sailed north. Except for the big cities, which they planned to avoid, population numbers dropped farther up the coast and rainfall was generally reliable. Earlier today she printed off maps then they had carefully marked target locations. The future of cyber access was uncertain in this new world and it was best to have hard copies of anything important.

  The coast slid slowly by. Everywhere she looked were crushed and burnt buildings, splintered wharves and docks, and the dead. Hundreds of thousands of teeming, shambling dead. Borrowing Mei’s binoculars she focused on the dark masses of bodies swarming the shore. Here too, the slow, decaying shufflers were being supplanted by the newer, faster version. There seemed to be no end to them as they continued to pour over the low hills above the beach, surging out into the breaking surf. The once beautiful coastline, the subject of songs, paintings, movies, and television for so many years, affording so many the “California life”, now belonged to the dead.

  Chapter Fift
een

  The days slipped by, one after the other as the massive ship made its way slowly up the Pacific coast. The skies were the pale blue of early spring with sunshine only occasionally obscured by fat, drifting clouds. Smoke from countless fires on the mainland was often visible in the distance but the sea breezes usually blew it away long before it reached the ship.

  The dead still thronged the coast and each day they found them in the water around the ship, repulsive and fell, clawing in vain at the metal hull. Hoping to escape them at least long enough to fish, they moved farther out to sea and cast nets improvised from nylon webbing found down in a cargo hold. Each cast brought in a variety of fish but also pulled in hideously bloated bodies, often limbless, eye sockets blank but mouths still searching, biting the rope and struggling for release. The crew threw back the entire catch. Eventually they stopped trying and rationed the food ever more severely. They each got one bottle of water a day. There seemed to be no escape from the infected.

  Often they came upon other boats, though none as large as this one. They usually hailed them by bullhorn but seldom got more than a wary wave in response if they got a response at all. Once a gun cracked and a bullet went over their bow, a message easily understood. They drifted on.

  Virginia, accompanied by Ian, Anna, and Daniel, spent a little more time outside each day. The little family was broken and grieving as were so many others. Some of the men had lost their entire families.

  Nevertheless, life on board developed a routine. Brian and Moshe scratched out the lines for a shuffleboard court on the deck and used metal plates from the galley as pucks. It was a welcome distraction for the children. Their Chinese hosts were not pleased when they noticed the damage to their ship but allowed the games, occasionally joining in. Despite this they kept a distance between themselves and the refugees and David sensed there were divisions in their ranks. He got the definite impression that some of the crew did not want them on board. A particularly hostile group, a faction led by a Private Chang, tried to confiscate their weapons the first night but with Mei’s help, David made it clear they were on board only temporarily and wanted to be able to leave quickly when needed. They kept the guns for now.