The Battle for San Francisco

by Dan McMartin

  “I’d invite you to come with us but I don’t know where we’re going or how we’re going to get there,” Anna replied and looked at Pete and Gunny.

  “We can go back across the bridge,” Pete suggested. Gunny shook his head.

  “No, it’s overrun, the approaches anyway. Too dangerous,” he replied.

  “If we could just get to my Jeep. We could put some miles between us and those things,” Pete said.

  “We could take the Hummer,” Anna suggested.

  “We’d still have to drive through those things to get to the bridge. They’re going to spread everywhere soon. Hummers are tough but...,” Gunny explained, leaving the obvious unsaid.

  “And we need to get my Jeep back,” Pete added. He was only half kidding. That was his connection to his past life. He didn’t want to abandon it, though he would if he absolutely had to.

  “There’s got to be a hundred boats at Pier 39,” Brenda told them. Everyone looked at her.

  “We could take a boat to Treasure Island, get Pete’s precious Jeep and take the bridge back to Oakland,” Anna suggested, teasing Pete a little.

  “And if the island is overrun, we can make land somewhere safe,” Gunny said.

  “Near a Jeep dealership?” Pete asked playfully. Everyone laughed except Brenda. She didn’t get the joke.

  “You’re free to come with us,” Anna told the woman.

  “I don’t think I have a choice. Thank you,” she replied.

  “Then let’s go find a boat,” Gunny said, picked up his backpack and shouldered it. They let the others take all the vehicles but it wasn’t far to Pier 39 anyway. There would be zombies but hopefully, most were still milling about in the maze of streets and buildings and hadn’t made it to the waterfront yet.

  The others grabbed their gear and the foursome set off to find a boat to take them to Treasure Island. They had some trouble along the way but nothing they couldn’t handle. In fact, the half-dozen or so walking dead they encountered proved to be a walk in the park compared to the events of that day.

  About half the boats were gone but they managed to find a decent sized fishing boat. The bay wasn’t as rough as it could have been so it seemed adequate. It was only a couple of miles to Treasure Island anyway. The voyage went smoothly enough. They didn’t bother finding a marina or a dock. Instead, Gunny just beached the boat on the rip rap sea wall that surrounded the island.

  They found the island abandoned. Those stationed on it either went to defend the city or fled. Pete’s initial reaction to the idea that everyone had run away was that they were cowards but that was only a fleeting thought. They were smart. They were alive. The group found the Jeep right where they had left it and added their gear to the supplies they left behind when they arrived. They encountered exactly one zombie and Anna dispatched it with her knife.

  Pete was afraid his Jeep might have been ransacked by those leaving but stopping to search the many vehicles left behind on the island probably wasn’t high on their list of priorities. Besides, the cities on the east side of the bay would provide what they needed. Nothing or no one approached and inside of ten minutes, they were ready to go.

  Chapter 18

  Two men watched from a stack of shipping containers near the eastern terminus of the Bay Bridge. They had arrived that afternoon to find the promised safe zone of San Francisco in smoldering ruins. Boats left the piers by the dozen, heading in all directions. A squadron of attack helicopters flew off to the south and never returned.

  As they scanned the city with the binoculars they had obtained on their journey, they saw thousands of the dead wandering about. Here and there, a knot of the creatures fed on something, probably a person they had managed to corner and capture. Both men knew they witnessed the aftermath of a battle and that the battle hadn’t gone well for the defenders of the city.

  “Well, that’s a bust,” the blonde man said to his partner.

  “Yeah, looks like we missed all the fun,” the other man said sarcastically. They had climbed the stack of containers to get a better view. Below, among the thousands of shipping containers, cranes and railroad tracks, the odd zombie wandered about aimlessly. This side of the bay was much like the rest of the places they had traveled through to get there.

  There were plenty of the dead wandering about but few people. Across the bay, in San Francisco, it was a different story. How did so many zombies gather in one place, especially a place that was supposedly a safe zone defended by the military? It was a question neither man could answer.

  “So, what now?” Helmsworth asked. Espinoza lowered his binoculars and turned to regard the man he had traveled from Redding with.

  “I guess we hit the road again,” Espinoza replied. Helmsworth sighed.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” he said. “Do you think Gunny and Anders made it here? Do you think they could have survived that?” he asked, gesturing at the smoking ruins of San Francisco.

  “I don’t know. I hope they’re out here somewhere and they weren’t in there,” Espinoza replied.

  “Me too,” Helmsworth said and got to his feet. Espinoza joined him, they climbed off the stack of containers and carefully navigated back to their white government van. They had taken it from the recruiting depot when they left to head to San Francisco. They didn’t encounter any dead as they went. Back at the van, they climbed inside and Espinoza drove them out the way they had come. It was getting late and they needed to find shelter for the night.

  ~~~

  Gunny opened the door to get into the Jeep but he found himself frozen in place. He turned to look at the city across the bay. Smoke rose into the sky and even from here he could see the dead shuffling about. There were so many. Then, suddenly, Gunny was back on top of that overturned van trying to save his recruits. Anders was there with him.

  Then he was in the farmhouse again. Anders sat staring at the pistol like he was trying to decide if he should end it all. Then he saw Anders other times and other places. Gunny didn’t see the grief Anders carried with him then but he could clearly see it now. He wiped a tear from his cheek as he stared at the city where his best friend died.

  Gunny couldn’t help but feel guilty. Both for letting Jim Anders sacrifice himself and for leaving the city behind. Most of all, however, he felt guilty for not seeing how much pain his friend was in. Then a hand lightly touched his shoulder. Gunny turned, half expecting to see his best friend but instead he found Anna there.

  Pete stood next to her as Brenda watched from the Jeep. She knew what happened but the importance was lost on her. “He’s with his wife and daughter again. He saved all of us and countless others that would have been slaughtered by that army. He’s a hero, Gunny,” Anna told him. Gunny cried openly now.

  “It should have been me,” was all he said in reply.

  “We’re alive. Staying that way will honor his memory,” Pete said. Gunny chuckled softly and turned to regard his new friends.

  “I’m getting soft in my old age. You’re right, Pete. Let’s get the fuck out of this shit hole,” Gunny said, hugging Anna and Pete in his big, bear arms. He took one last look at the city as he climbed into the Jeep. “Goodbye, Jim,” he whispered to himself as they drove toward the ramp that led to the Bay Bridge.

  ~~~

  “No signal,” Anna told him. Pete thought as much. The traffic lights were out too. The grid was down. He wondered how long it had been so. In San Francisco, the power was supplied by generators and the cell signal was maintained locally. Out here, in the real world, that stuff was gone. No power, no phone, no internet.

  “It’s the dark ages,” he replied.

  “With guns,” Anna added. Gunny had been quiet since they left Treasure Island. The east approach to the bay bridge was no longer guarded. The men there had either gone to defend the city or fled. Now, Pete and his friends were on their way to Santa Cruz. No particular reason. It wasn’t San Francisco and Pete figured Stanley had gathered up most of the zombies on his march
from the south. In any case, there would be fewer of the reanimated corpses than there were north of there.

  “Do you think it’s safe there?” Brenda asked as they drove.

  “In Santa Cruz? No,” Pete answered.

  “Then why are we going there?” she wondered.

  “There is no safe place. If the military can’t keep us safe, no one can. I mean, that Stanley guy was a...freak of nature but even so. I’d rather be out here where I can run than be trapped behind walls where I can’t,” Pete explained.

  “Funny, isn’t it?” Gunny spoke up.

  “What’s that, Gunny?” Anna asked.

  “Don’t call me that...please,” he said, his tone changed.

  “Sorry,” Anna replied. Pete glanced at Gunny in the rearview mirror and saw his expression soften.

  “No, I’m sorry. It’s just that...well, that part of my life is over. The Marines don’t exist anymore. Everything from the old world will perish soon. This is life now. Just call me Chris,” he told Anna, letting her know he wasn’t angry.

  “Okay, Chris, what’s funny?” she replied, turning to smile at him in the back seat to let Chris know she understood.

  “What Pete said. I feel the same way. San Francisco was a farce. It was a noble idea but it was doomed from the start. We would have run out of food or ammo or fuel at some point. Something would have happened that couldn’t be dealt with. Like I said, that world is gone. We have to look out for one another now,” he said.

  “I guess you’re both right,” Anna agreed. Up ahead, something was blocking the road. At first, they couldn’t see it. The sun was low in the sky and the glare obscured whatever was in the road. Then Pete saw the people. They had guns. He slowed and then stopped fifty yards away. The men up ahead approached, guns lowered, but they didn’t come too close. Pete lowered his window.

  “Get out of the car,” one of them yelled. Pete looked at his companions in turn. Anna unsnapped the retaining strap on her holster. Gunny pulled back the charging handle of his M4 rifle to make sure he had a round chambered. Even Brenda readied her M16. Pete didn’t even ask if they were ready for this. He knew they were.

  “It’s not a car, asshole. It’s a Jeep,” Pete shouted as he leaned his head out the open window.

  “Look, fucktard. Get out of the fucking whatever the hell it is and we might let you live,” the man said as others joined him on the road. Pete just stared ahead. These pricks didn’t know what they had been through. He was sure they hadn’t been in the city and they didn’t know who they were dealing with. They didn’t know what Pete and his friends had seen and done there. Pete turned and met the gaze of his three companions.

  “Let’s do this,” he said. A moment later, all four doors of the Jeep opened. The occupants stepped out, almost as one. When they raised their weapons and leveled them at the assholes on the road, there was a moment of absolute quiet before all hell broke loose.

  ~~~

  This marks the end of The Battle of San Francisco. Join my newsletter to be the first to get news about the upcoming sequel by clicking here. If you liked this book, consider giving it a positive review and thanks for reading!!

  ~~~

  About the Author

  Dan McMartin is a retired engineer turned full-time writer. Dan specializes in short stories and serialized fiction. He enjoys writing fantasy, sci-fi, thrillers and historical fiction. He lives in northern Nevada with his wife and two sons. Besides writing, Dan enjoys fly fishing, photography, beer, scotch and cigars.

  Copyright © 2016 Dan McMartin. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Cover and ebook design by Dan McMartin.

  If you’ve read this book and didn’t pay for it or borrow it legally, please consider purchasing a copy. I’m not some big anonymous publishing company. I’m just a guy living his dream and scotch and cigars are expensive. If you enjoyed the book, please give it a positive review and tell your friends. Thanks!

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased, is unintentional. It is intended as entertainment and some historical liberties were taken. This story is dedicated to the men and women who fought tyranny and especially those that sacrificed their lives in the name of freedom and liberty during World War II.