To Sail a Darkling Sea - eARC

by John Ringo

  The crew gangway started with a solid platform that was inserted onto the deck of the ship through a latched back “door” in the bulwark. The platform extended outboard from the ship about four feet. A sloped ramp was attached to it that led to another, similar, platform that rested on the pier.

  “Maybe,” Dougherty said, hesitantly. “If I don’t get shot doing it.”

  He tentatively stepped onto the extended platform and looked over the side. Then he bent over the rail and ralphed.

  “Watch where you stick your head,” Januscheitis snapped. The engineer had nearly stuck his head into his fire.

  “Sorry,” Dougherty said, wiping his mouth. “This really isn’t my gig. Jesus.”

  “Can you get the gangway off?” Faith asked.

  “I dunno,” Dougherty said. “I was gonna pull the hinges on the ramp. That was gonna be tough enough but with the weight of the… bodies… Only idea I’ve got is a bad one.”

  “Which is?” Faith asked.

  “Pull the dogs,” he said, pointing.

  The shipboard platform was solidly attached to the ship while the pier-side platform moved to allow for tidal changes and sway of the ship. The attachments were latches into the deck.

  “The platform’s balanced so there’s usually not a lot of weight on them,” Dougherty said. “Right now… Hell, if many more of ’em die on it, it might go on its own. It’s only designed to hold the weight of twenty people at a time. And if we pull the dogs with this much weight on it, I’m not sure what it’s gonna do. Might fall, might stay in place, might stay in place for a while then fall. I just dunno.”

  “Pull the dogs,” Faith said. “If we have to, we’ll lever it over the side with a Halligan.”

  “I’ll need a hammer,” Dougherty said.

  “Kirby,” Januscheitis radioed. “Get a hammer and a Halligan from the Senorita.”

  “Errr… Should I bring this ammo first or drop it and get the Halligan, over?”

  “Where are you?” Januscheitis asked.

  “Right around the corner, Staff Sergeant!” Kirby shouted.

  “Bring the ammo,” Januscheitis shouted.

  “Sorry, Staff Sergeant… ” Kirby said, running up to the firing position. He had boxes of ammo on straps all over his body.

  “Just drop the ammo and go get a Halligan and hammer,” Januscheitis said.

  “Senorita, Ground Lead, over,” Faith said, trying not to grin. Given that Kirby had been a Marine cook, he was taking to killing zombies pretty well. But he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

  “Ground lead. We’ve got the Halligan and hammer standing by. I take it you mean a sledge, over?”

  “You want a sledge hammer?” Faith asked.

  “Yes,” Dougherty said. “Right.”

  “Roger sledge, over,” Faith said.

  “Just waiting on you.”

  “Hoof it, Kirby!” Staff Sergeant Januscheitis said.

  “Aye, aye, Staff Sergeant!”

  “I think we could probably hold this position indefinitely,” Faith said. “But we’re burning up ammo.”

  “Only so much on the boat, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “And I’m about to have to change barrels. So I wouldn’t say indefinitely.”

  * * *

  “Heave!” Januscheitis said, pushing on the angled platform. The heavy wood construct finally slid over the side of the ship and fell into the water with a crash. Bodies of infecteds and the few who were hail fell into the shark teaming water.

  The clearance team ignored the screams.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Mister Dougherty,” Faith said. “We need to get the rest of your team onboard, now, to see if we can get the crane working.”

  “Gonna suck if this was all for nothing,” Kirby said.

  “Did we ask your opinion, Marine?” Januscheitis said.

  “No, Staff Sergeant,” Kirby said. “No excuse, Staff Sergeant.”

  “Just go escort Mister Dougherty… ”

  * * *

  It had taken a trip belowdecks, which turned out to be another place infected had found to hole up, to get the crane into operation. But it was running.

  “I’d thought we’d have to start the mains,” Faith said as the first container went over the side. The supply ship had tied up to the bigger freighter for the evolution.

  “You don’t use mains for anything but propulsion power,” Dougherty said. “Pretty much everything else runs on secondary systems. The good news was the primary gen and hydraulics weren’t damaged. If they had been… I probably could have fixed ’em but it would have been a pain in the ass.”

  “How much of a pain in the ass is it going to be to get these onto the pier?” Januscheitis asked.

  “One of ’em, not so much,” Dougherty said. “The one that’s going water side will be easy. But the one that’s going interior? We’re going to have to get right up to the dock. And I mean, in contact. We can only swing it out so far.”

  “So… We’ll go aboard the supply ship to make sure you don’t get boarded,” Faith said. “And this time we’ll bring company. Division, ground team leader, over… ”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Arrogance diminishes wisdom”

  Arabian Proverb

  “God I love this system!” Anarchy said. He was stroking the trigger of the Browning in bursts because there just weren’t enough infected to engage full-bore. “The only thing that would make it better was if it was duals or quads!”

  The two “gunships” had moved to the end of the pier, right by a bright red harbor tug, and were engaging infecteds “infiltrating” from the direction of the city. The sound of the guns didn’t really carry all that far, but infected from all over were converging on the usual flocks of gulls.

  “It’s sweet,” Rusty said. As one of the more “senior” people in the squadron who had transferred over to the Navy, he had been chosen as one of the “primary gunners.” More junior people were humping the ammo. Which worked for him. “What’s a dual?”

  “Uh, oh,” Anarchy said. A huge group of infected had just come into view. Previously they’d been trickling in in small groups or singles. This was a couple of hundred and it looked like more behind them. “Rock concert time! Rusty, get the leakers!” he started engaging at long range. The BMG could kill out to nearly a mile. This was less than a thousand yards. But the single gun wasn’t stopping the tidal wave.

  “Division, you see this? Tell them to get a move on!”

  * * *

  “Roger, I see it,” Lieutenant Chen said. He’d taken a position well outboard from where the containers were being put into place just so his boat would be the primary on engagement. “Boat Two, stop the leakers. Rusty, engage long. Repeat, engage long. Garcia, Garcia,” he radioed. “What’s the status on closure, over?”

  * * *

  “Oh, my,” Faith said, looking through binoculars at the oncoming horde. The away team had landed on the pier as the better way to keep the infected from boarding the supply ship. The Alan Garcia was tied up, stern first, to the pier and was just maneuvering the first container into place. “That’s a bunch, all right.”

  “And there’s a problem,” Januscheitis said.

  “Which is?” Faith asked, looking over her shoulder. “Oh.”

  The crane on the Alan Garcia was designed for dropping cargo containers on piers at small ports or onto lighters in small harbors where there weren’t better systems. It was not designed to move them far from the ship. Just get them “on dock.” It had had to be modified just to get them to drop “inline” with the ship for the “mechanical clearance” devices. Getting it to drop them “further out” was out of the question. It would need an entirely different crane.

  And the “outboard” container didn’t quite make it to the seawall. Thus there was going to be a gap. There was a pedestrian walkway with lights along it on the seawall side. They’d already checked and the container was going to crush the lights when it landed on them. But
it didn’t, in fact, make it. There was a solid four foot gap. Two sailors were straining at lines to get it to swing out, but it just wasn’t happening.

  “Ground team, division, you seeing what we’re seeing?” Captain Walker radioed. “And by that I mean the gap not the oncoming football hooligans.”

  “We see it,” Faith replied. “There’s a gap. Drop it and put the next one in place. We’ll figure out the gap later.”

  “Doors,” Januscheitis said.

  “Squirrel,” Faith replied. “Why are we playing word association games?”

  “We open the doors on the container and tie them back, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “The one that’s on the south side will push into the wall so the more they push it the tighter it will get.”

  “That is a brilliant suggestion, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “Infected are holding from the fire. Let’s make it so. We’re going to need to smash away some of the lights.”

  “Kirby. Hammer!”

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” Kirby said.

  “Wait… ” Januscheitis said. “Squirrel, ma’am… ?”

  * * *

  “What the hell is this?” Faith asked when they’d opened the container. The container was filled with pallets of wooden boxes that were narrow, wide and about man sized. A short man, anyway.

  “Dunno, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, firing twice. “But we’re going to need to be on the other side of the door when those infected get here.”

  The fire from the combined gunboats was slowing the tide of infected but a few leakers were getting through. And eventually that would be “a lot” of leakers.

  Faith pulled one of the shipping manifests off a pallet and looked at it, tipping her head.

  “Yves Saint Laurent… Oh, my GOD! It’s DRESSES! We can’t use this! They’re going to get RUINED!”

  “Ma’am… ” Januscheitis said.

  “I just need to find a size eight!” Faith screamed, pulling out a knife. “Okay, ten… twelve is the highest I’ll go… ”

  “Oh, jeeze,” Januscheitis said. “Derk! Get the 240 and a bunch of ammo! Pag, Kirby… Find the LT a dress… ”

  * * *

  “. . . Roger, Division, we’re… uh… reconfiguring our plan, here. There’s some high value material in this container so we’re jamming the forward door to keep the infected out rather than tying back the rear… ”

  “No. God no, that color would look horrible on me… ”

  “Be about… Could be a while, Division… ”

  “Seriously? That would barely fit my sister… ”

  “. . . got the door jammed open, reinforcing it, still working the exercise, Division… ”

  “No, Lance Corporal, I am not going to wear that dress in public… I’m not sure I’d wear it in private… ”

  “. . . Pag, go see if you can get one of those cargo-handlers moving. We’ll jam it up against the door… And pick up some more seven six two… ”

  “Oh, God. Oh, God, yes. YES! YES! YES!”

  “Roger, Division, breaking contact now… ”

  “Now all I need to find is a container-load of shoes… ”

  * * *

  “Good Lord,” Paula said. “That’s gorgeous.”

  The long-sought dress was basically red but the holographic silk changed it to rippling cascade of different shades from pink to burgundy.

  “Can you alter it for me?” Faith said. “I got it sort of large… ”

  “Easily,” Paula said. “We’ll need some time to do a fitting.”

  “Annnd we have more,” Januscheitis said, patiently gesturing to PFC Kirby who was more or less invisible under a pile of fabric.

  “I figured you were about Sophia’s size,” Faith said, pulling the dresses off the PFC. “There’s a bunch… ”

  “Ahem. LT? Now that we’ve got that emergency fixed?”

  “Oh, yeah, the liner,” Faith said, grumpily. “Right, where’s that techy? We need to see if we can get the port side embarkation ramp open and the starboard side closed… ”

  * * *

  “Are you sure that door’s going to hold?” Dougherty asked, nervously, looking around the interior of the cruise liner. He’d puked, again, when he had to walk nearly knee deep in dead bodies just to get to the hatch controls.

  “No,” Januscheitis said, sighing. “But we’ve got it chocked, braced and a cargo handler jammed up against it. And the other door is open and tied back. If the first one fails, well, they ain’t getting’ past the second.”

  “If the infected get into that cargo container, every woman in the Fleet will tear you apart limb from limb, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “You’re not a woman. You don’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t, LT,” Januscheitis said. “But we were fine giving you cover fire while you found a dress. And it’s damned pretty, ma’am. It will look good on you.”

  “Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said, giving his arm a punch. “Sorry I went a little nuts back there.”

  “No issues, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “It’s sort of why we follow you around.”

  “So… What do you need to get this hatch open,” Faith said, pointing at the offending hatch, “and that hatch closed?”

  “Power,” Dougherty said. “And some time and tools. And not having to worry about getting eaten by zombies would help.”

  “Get the pierside hatch closed and you’re golden on that one,” Faith said. “But it would be nice if we didn’t have to fight out way out of the ship to get back to the boat so… water side open first, maybe?”

  “I’ll go get some tools… ”

  * * *

  “The pier side embarkation doors are closed all three liners,” Lieutenant Chen said. “And water side are all open. Infected have been cleared from all embarkation areas and the pier has been somewhat secured against infiltration from the city.”

  The rest of the Squadron had arrived just before dawn. Captain Smith had called for a “command and staff” meeting at 0800 hours to prepare for clearance of the vessels. Given that getting the embarkation areas of the liners was the most critical step, things seemed to be going well enough.

  “Reconnaissance and clearance has been conducted on the supermax up to the level of Deck Five. Ground team commander?”

  “It is believed that stores were being prepared for distribution either to passengers in cabins or to secure areas,” Faith said, looking at the notes that Januscheitis had given her. She was really uncomfortable speaking in public and especially to the “command and staff” meeting. She’d never met half the people there including the new senior Marine, she was bleary from sleep deprivation and she was terrified she’d look like an idiot. Which led her to read slowly and in a monotone.

  “The stores were stockpiled in the embarkation area. Most of them were in non-metallic containers so the infected were able to… access them. This led to high levels of infected in the embarkation area. The watertight doors between the embarkation area and the atrium on Deck Five were all open. Continued infiltration of infected into the embarkation area led to a decision to commence clearance for the purposes of finding the entries and securing them.

  “Infected subjects were found in all areas up to Deck Five. There were indications that there is a significant infected presence above and below Deck Five as well as on Deck Four, the embarkation level. Primary watertight doors leading to the embarkation area were closed and partially secured. The doors don’t have manual dogs on them, it’s some sort of electronic locking mechanism, so the best we could do was jam them shut.

  “On the other two liners we started by finding and shutting the doors, first, then entering with technical personnel to get the embarkation hatches switched around.” She paused and her lips worked for a second. “By midnight, all embarkation areas were converted to water-side entry. Significant infected levels, in excess of the Boadicea, were found on all vessels. No evidence of survivors. However, penetration was limited to embarkation areas and immediate su
rroundings.

  “I would like to commend Mister Gregory Dougherty, engineering mate from the Garcia, on his ex… emplary actions in getting the doors switched around often under conditions of some threat. That concludes my report.”

  She sat down quickly.

  “I know that you have the word ‘exemplary’ in your vocabulary, Lieutenant,” Steve said, drily. “But that really didn’t sound like your writing.”

  “Staff Sergeant Januscheitis has been training me on… military report writing, sir,” Faith replied. “But in this case, yes, the Staff Sergeant pretty much wrote the report, sir. We got the doors configured by midnight. We were still picking out and clearing infected on the pier at one. There were a bunch of the little bastards. The Staff Sergeant and I worked on the report last night but I think I passed out around four. The Staff Sergeant shoved the report into my hands on the way to the meeting, sir. I really don’t know what I’d do without the Staff Sergeant, sir.”

  “So you’re working on, what, two hours sleep?” Steve said. “Remember the thing about no more than twelve hour’s clearance a day, Lieutenant?”

  “That would be on me, sir,” Chen said. “We were trying to prepare for the arrival of the Squadron. I wanted things to be in place so you could begin clearance ops without issue.”

  “And it just took longer than we’d thought, sir,” Faith said, shrugging. “I didn’t go into detail on getting the doors configured. We had to have a generator to run them. And every time we cranked the generator, we’d find we’d missed a damn hatch and, hello, here come a bunch of fricking zombies! Then Greg would dive for cover while we fought out way through the infected to the hatch we’d missed and get it closed. Or hatches in one case. So it just took a long time.”

  “You’re off duty until tomorrow morning after this meeting,” Steve said. “As are the rest of the members of your team. We have sufficient Marines for this clearance and I’m not going to have you or your team clearing in your condition.”

  “Yes, sir,” Faith said. “I can still clear, sir. Meetings not so good but I can clear in my sleep. But for my team I thank you. They really busted their… butts yesterday. Sir.”