As the Island Home trundled into the harbor several people on shore came down to the dock to see what was happening. When they were three hundred yards off shore the CB crackled and everyone in the pilothouse jumped.
“Hello on the ferry.” A voice said.
“Hello back.” Patrick said.
“Is anyone bit or injured on your boat?”
“Negative.” Patrick replied. “We are all healthy, no infected or bitten.”
“How many are you?” The voice asked.
Jessie shook his head and put his hand out for the microphone.
“We will need assistance docking, can you help?” Jessie asked.
“Do you have any weapons?” the voice asked.
“Yes, we have two pistols.” Jessie replied, a gross understatement.
They were now a hundred yards from the dock. Two men approached the edge and appeared to be waiting for the ropes to tie the boat down.
“I’ll go.” Charlie said and left the enclosure.
“Mister, please don’t do anything stupid when you get on land. They won’t like that.” The voice said.
“Who won’t like that?” Jessie asked.
There was no reply and the boat bumped gently against the dock. Charlie tossed the front rope, then the back rope and they were docked.
“Everyone in the tank. Roll out slow and we will see what’s what.” Jessie said and kissed Mauri.
Charlie met them at the tank as Patrick and Mauri were climbing in.
“Jessie, you go hide. I’ll pop the cork on her and jump into the tank. No reason for them to see you just yet.” Charlie said.
Jessie nodded and ran back upstairs. He stayed out of site and took up position on the top deck looking out a doughnut sized hole in the ship’s hull. Charlie activated the ship’s gate and ran for the tank. He was in with the hatch shut before the gate was half way down. Patrick fired up the engines and they were ready to roll.
As the tank cleared the boat’s shadow the men that helped tie the boat and several onlookers ran away. They got off the dock onto Oak Bluff’s Avenue. They rolled to the intersection at Seaview Ave and stopped. Some of the locals were running, others holding their ground, not sure what to make of the tank. No one looked bitten, no one looked undead. Through the intersection on the right was the Oak Bluff’s police station. There were no cruisers and no policemen to be seen. A block up there seemed to be a gathering of people. Patrick eased off the brakes and rolled the tank towards where Oak Bluff’s Avenue turned into Lake Ave.
From the boat Jessie saw movement behind the tank and off to either side. Four men came from behind the police station and looked like they were carrying guns. Two of them ran right up to the tank and then fell back. Jessie got to his feet and got ready to fire his automatic and alert his friends they were in danger when the explosions came.
Two fire roses bloomed at the rear of the tank and the sound came a split second later. The tank didn’t stop right away. It kept rolling and Jessie could see it left its treads on the ground behind it. Now there was more movement. Four, no eight, men surrounded the tank. Jessie ducked back into position. They all had automatic weapons and were dressed in military uniforms.
Jessie was furious. He hadn’t thought of this. He hated himself for not thinking this through. There was nothing he could do now. If these men were going to kill everyone in the tank, he was powerless to stop them, and what good would it do to give himself away and join them before the firing squad. The only thing stopping him from going mad was the fact that they didn’t blow the tank outright. Those explosions were designed to disable it, not destroy it. He watched and listened.
“In the tank. Pop the hatch and toss any weapons. You have sixty seconds to comply. Look to your slight left if you have any questions about my honesty.” The soldier said.
Jessie looked to the left of the tank. One of the soldiers had a RPG pointed at the tank. From thirty yards he couldn’t miss. This gave Jessie more hope. They could have turned the tank into scrap, but they hadn’t. On the other hand they could be saving the RPG for when they had no choice but to use it. Bullets were a fraction of the cost.
“We are surrounded.” Patrick said.
“They didn’t blow us up and they could have. We probably scared the shit out of them. Do you blame them?” Mauri asked. “We have to surrender. Open the hatch.”
Patrick did a good job hiding the M16s in the underside of the tank’s control panel.
“No need to give them more guns than necessary.” Patrick said and opened the hatch.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Submit.” Mauri said and tossed her pistol, collected Patrick and Charlie’s and did the same.
“We aren’t here to hurt anyone. We were just looking for safety.” Mauri yelled.
“Come out ma’am. Slow and steady. Hands up once you clear the ladder.”
“Alright.” Mauri said and climbed through the hatch.
Jessie watched as his wife and his two new friends stood on top of the tank, hands in the air. One at a time they climbed down and got on the ground knees apart, hands on their heads. Charlie went first, then Patrick. Before he could watch Mauri assume the position he caught movement close to the dock, a few yards from the boat’s gate. There were two men in uniform with machine guns in the ready position advancing like you would see in a Michael Bay movie.
Jessie got to his feet and sprinted for the rear of the boat. He slid down the rear staircase on the hand rails, ran eight more strides and threw himself off the back of the boat and into the Atlantic Ocean. Had this been a Michael Bay movie, a giant explosion would have destroyed the boat and a fireball would have rolled over him just inches about his dive. Instead Jessie got a face full of seaweed and a long cold swim to safety. He waded behind a boat a few docks over and stayed still hoping the men didn’t see him. His machine gun was gone, dropped in the dive and he was sure his pistol wouldn’t work now. He stayed there for a long time. Once he felt the men had time to sweep the boat and the area he slowly drifted away from the light of the dock and towards a dark spot he saw a few hundred yards down the harbor.
On Lake Ave Mauri was relieved Jessie didn’t give himself away trying to warn them of the attack. She didn’t like what was happening, but she figured if they were going to get killed they would be dead already.
“Why did you come here?” One of the soldiers asked as another three held guns to their heads.
“We figured we would be safe here if there was no infection.” Mauri said.
“How did you get a tank?”
“It was at the Guard building in Worcester.” Patrick said.
“Are you in the guard?” the soldier asked.
“Yes sir, we both are.” Patrick said shrugging towards his brother.
“And you?” The soldier asked.
“I’m not in the Guard.” Mauri said.
“Who are you?” The soldier asked.
“Mauri. They saved me in Worcester.” She said.
The soldier looked the three of them up and down slowly.
“Alright, let’s get them in with the others.” He said.
One of the soldiers behind them moved to the front.
“Up.” He commanded.
They got to their feet and put their hands back on their heads.
“Walk, no talk. Eyes forward or I shoot you.” The soldier said and started leading the way.
As they walked Mauri saw they all had almost the same patch sewn onto their uniforms. There was a letter A in red with a black outline. On the left hand stroke of the A was an outline of a hunting knife. Above the insignia was the word Anthem. Below was different for each soldier. One said Kansas, one Utah and two others had Oklahoma.
Three solders followed behind, guns trained on the new prisoners. Two of the other soldiers climbed the tank to investigate the inside.
They were marched down Lake Ave to the Trinity Church. The soldier led them through the front doors and to a staircase on the left. Once
downstairs there were double doors locked with a chain and padlock. One soldier, dressed as the rest, was standing guard. His logo said Texas.
“Open it up.” the leading soldier said to the guard.
He pulled the doors back two inches and peeked in. Apparently liking what he saw, he let them close, pulled the key from his pocket and turned the lock. The heavy chain clanged on the tile floor as the guard swung the door open and raised his pistol. He nodded his head and the three prisoners passed him and entered the room.
“Stay ten feet away from the door at all times. The shitter is in the back corner. There are eighteen of you now. If I say line up all eighteen of you better line up where I can see you or I’ll start shooting. Got it?” and the soldier closed the door without waiting for an answer. The chain rumbled through the door handles and the lock clicked shut.
They were standing in a gymnasium big enough to accommodate a game of full court basketball. There were long banquet tables set up as if a reception or retirement party was being held. There were fifteen people in a tight group sitting at the far end of the gym.
“Welcome to Guantanamo Bay North.” One of the men hollered.
Mauri looked around. Not a single window and no doors besides the ones that said “Ladies” and “Gentlemen.” Her first thought was the fire code. This place must be grandfathered in with only one means of egress. Either that or small towns on Martha’s Vineyard are like small towns everywhere with their bar room policy meetings. An old James McMurtry song popped into her head.
“Are you from away?” One of the men said as they approached.
“Maine.” Patrick said finally lowering his hands from his head.
“What brings you here.” The same man asked standing up.
“Safety.” Mauri said.
“Safety.” Then man repeated.
“Yes sir, we were hoping there wasn’t any infection here.” Mauri said.
“No zombies.” One of the men sitting said. “We got entirely different kinds of monsters here.”
The man standing introduced himself as Marty. He was six foot seven and had hands the size of a catcher’s mitt. He looked to be somewhere around fifty judging by his gray hair and the deep lines carved into his tan face. He had bandages up both arms and on his left hand.
“You guys came to the wrong town.” Marty said.
“What’s the story, Marty?” Patrick asked.
“It’s a long one, why don’t you kids have a seat, I don’t think we are going anywhere anytime soon. Did you see the dock in Falmouth?” Marty asked.
Mauri nodded.
“Their story starts there.” Marty said.
For the next hour Marty told the story of the eleven men in uniform that had come to occupy Oak Bluffs the same way the Nazi occupied France during World War Two.
“I had a meeting in South Boston Thursday morning, eight AM, so I drove up Wednesday afternoon with my wife, Jennifer. We stayed at the Hilton near Quincy Market so we could walk around and have some supper in the city. I was going to go to my meeting, pick her up at the hotel after and come back home. As you know, around six thirty Thursday morning, things were pretty much going to shit and the hotel’s fire alarm went off. We looked outside, didn’t see nothing funny, but our view was an alley so I didn’t really expect to. I poked my head out in the hall and there were folks in their undershirts and pajamas just kind of looking at each other. Then someone in one of the other rooms screamed. A couple guys from down the hall went running and came out a minute later and said ‘turn on your television’ to no one in particular. So I closed the door and Jenny put on the tube and we watched. We saw a man get tackled and bitten by a crazy and then he got up and attacked someone else, just like on a fucking horror picture.”
Marty paused and took a deep pull on the root beer sitting on the table in front of him.
“Jenny got scared and told me she wanted to go home, to go home right now. She thought we would be safe here. We got dressed and went downstairs. It was a mad house. People were running and screaming and one fellow had a gun. He said they were coming. We left the hotel and got out on the street. Just as we did two men were wrestling on the corner. I had no idea then what had really happening. A motorcycle cop pulled up and jumped off his bike. He tried to separate the two men and one of them bit him. Then they stopped fighting each other and attacked the cop. I grabbed Jenny and ran for his bike. The key was still in the ignition and we took off. I own a Harley so it was no problem. We snaked through the city and made it to the bridge. We saw things that would turn your hair white, but we seemed to be riding a breaking wave. We managed to stay ahead of it until we got to Falmouth. Then it all went to fucking hell.”
“I can vouch for that.” A man sitting at the table said.
“That’s Doug Evans. Me and him are the only two to survive the parking lot and make it here. Others survived I suspect, but they ran whichever way they did…didn’t come with us. My Jenny is probably dead. Don’t know for sure, we got separated when the shooting started.”
Mauri thought of the seven bodies Jessie had told her about in Falmouth. Not burned like the others, but shot.
“We were hoping the boat was still running and according to the announcements it was. The Eagle was in the dock and the Island Home was on the way. The parking lot was jam-packed and everyone was trying to get off the mainland as everyone was hearing the news. This thing was creeping closer and closer with every broadcast.”
“They were loading some commercial vehicles when we got there, as the big trucks need to go on the Eagle first. There were rumblings in the waiting crowd that some people were bribing the operators to get a spot on the first boat. I did the math in my head and figured being pedestrians we would get on the second boat comfortably. They were about half way done loading cars onto the first boat when the soldiers arrived. They were in three black hummers that each had a giant machine gun mounted on top. They didn’t say a word they just opened fire with one of those big guns. I saw a man cut in half. I saw women and children get blown apart.”
Marty’s chin started to tremble and he had to stop and find his composure.
“Everyone started to run. I turned to face Jenny, but she was already gone, washed away on a river of people. I headed in that direction, but I couldn’t find her. Two of the Hummers drove up on the grass around the jam of cars and onto the dock. The driver left enough room for people to get by. One of the soldiers went into the office and got on the loud speaker. He told everyone to leave their cars and get off the boat. In ten minutes they were going to shoot anyone they found left on the boat. People poured off the boat and back into the parking lot. Ten minutes later, half the soldiers were on the boat and, as promised, they shot the captain and two men that tried to hide in a life jacket cubby. The soldier on the loud speaker came back on and said they needed this boat, but the next one was ours. The other two Hummers drove over the grass and boarded the boat. The gate went up and the boat pulled out of the dock. None of us knew what to do. We all stood there looking at each other, looking at the dead and the dying that were shot for no reason what so ever. All they had to do was fire some warning shots and everyone would have let them have the goddamn boat. I kept looking for Jenny, calling her name over and over but she never answered. I was beginning to think she was one of the ones that got shot. I started looking at the faces of the dead but never found her.”
Marty rubbed his catcher’s mitt hands over his head. One of the women sitting at the table behind him sobbed.
“About five minutes later, it was clear why they shot with no regard. They had air support, two jets. We heard them coming and I thought they were going to somehow help. Maybe blow up the Eagle. The first one passed low and dumped liquid the whole length of the lot...fuel of some sort. Everyone got the idea what was about to happen and panic swept. Everyone started to run, but everyone ran in different directions, towards and into each other. The space between two cars turned into a bottle neck in about three seco
nds and very few actually made progress. I saw Doug jump up onto a car and lily hop from car to car towards the water. I did the same. When the second jet made its pass it dropped something. It wasn’t bombs because there was no explosion. I was running and not looking back so I didn’t see, but whatever it was ignited the fuel and everything went up, all at once like a flash. I dove into the water and swam as far as my breath would take me. When I came up for air Doug was ten feet from me and there were other people in the water as well. I told Doug to get to a boat. We made it onto a small yacht anchored off shore a bit. From the yacht we could see and smell the people in the lot. It was a thing from nightmares. There were people getting on other boats and swimming back to shore. We asked people in the water near us if they wanted to come aboard, but no one did. After all that no one was thinking straight. We decided it would be best to come here. We had a fifty-fifty chance of them coming here, or going to Nantucket. We got the yacht going and sailed. When we were close enough to see the harbor and that the boat wasn’t in it, we docked, thinking we picked the right island. Come to find out they ran it aground trying to dock in Edgartown Harbor.”
“Stupid fucks.” Doug added.
“They had to leave the Hummers on the beached boat, but those big ass guns are portable, so are the rocket launchers and bazookas they have. I’m not sure what they did to Edgartown, but they showed up here about six in the evening with each of those machine guns on a tripod in the back of pickup trucks. They rolled right into the center of town and started hollering for the mayor on a bullhorn. Those dumb sons of bitches don’t know there is no Mayor of Martha’s Vineyard. Selectmen Vaughn came out with Chief Scheider. They shot them dead in the middle of Lake Ave. A bit later those two jets flew over. They made half a dozen passes over the island and from what we figure blew the entire western and southern part from Tisbury to Edgartown straight to hell.”
Sawkill [Omnibus] Page 20
