The Infected Dead (Book 2): Survive For Now

by Howard, Bob

  Kathy was the first to understand why that mattered. “Chief, were you able to see the conduits that run from Mud Island to the mainland?” she asked.

  The Chief ran the video of the nets backward and then froze the picture. He said, “Look closely right across the middle of the net.” He put his finger up to the TV screen at the area he wanted us to look at. There appeared to be a straight line under all of the bodies.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

  He answered, “If you think that might be a big pipe that crosses the moat, then it’s what you think it is. I think your uncle may have put up the nets to protect the pipes, but he couldn’t have guessed the nets would become dangerous if they got too heavy.”

  “Let me see if I understand you, Chief,” said Tom. “If the nets hadn’t been there, and the sandbar completely stopped the flow of water, the pipes would probably have become buried in mud over time. That would have been a good thing.”

  Kathy picked up the thought from there, “But the nets have been catching hundreds of the infected for months. If the water goes down too fast, the weight of all those bodies could crush the pipes that carry power to the island. We would have to start tapping our fuel reserves.”

  “How long can we live off of those fuel reserves, Chief?” asked Jean.

  The Chief had lived and worked on ships for a long time, and he was used to calculating fuel needs without a calculator. One hand went to his beard. That was his body language that meant he was thinking something through. It only took a couple of minutes before he answered.

  “If we begin a power consumption plan as soon as the landline fails, we could probably stretch it out for a couple of years. Hot meals could be decreased to one per day, and leftovers could be eaten cold. Hot showers can be on a schedule rather than every night the way we do it now.”

  I said, “We always knew that the power might fail just because of reactors going off line and hydroelectric plants needing repairs. It was just a matter of time.”

  “Any chance we can prolong the inevitable?” asked Kathy.

  “What have you got in mind?” asked the Chief. “I don’t think we can get a dredge and bring it here if that’s what you’re thinking. Dredges are usually not able to move under their own power. They get pushed and pulled into place by a tugboat. Besides, we can’t patch that hole in the jetty. Those rocks are too heavy.”

  “I wonder how the hole got there in the first place,” I said.

  “Something must have rammed it,” said the Chief. “Whatever it was, after it hit the jetty and knocked some rocks out of place, it must’ve gotten free and went back to open water around the jetty. It may have even sunk in deeper water. Those rocks would punch a pretty big hole in most ships. The point is that we have a hole in the jetty, and we can’t do anything about it no matter how got there. Any other ideas?”

  We all looked at each other helplessly, but no one had anything to contribute. The Chief said, “At the present rate of sand build up, we could begin to see a drop in the water level within a month. After that it will move faster because less water will come back into the moat. In a week or so after that, we’ll see the top of the net and the first of the bodies.”

  I was picturing the net above the water line, and I could see it pulling at its moorings. That’s when an idea hit me.

  “Chief, how are the nets anchored to the mainland and to Mud Island?” I asked.

  “I already thought about that, Eddie. They already support a lot of weight, so they must have concrete moorings on both sides.”

  Kathy, the architect of the plan that saved thousands of people at the Charleston cruise terminal felt like she had the answer.

  “Why not cut the net loose?” she asked. “We could wait for the top cable to be exposed when the water level drops, and just cut it.”

  The Chief didn’t get excited the way the rest of us did, so it must be more bad news. “Here’s the catch,” he said. “For the nets to collapse the power conduits, the weight has to fall all at once. For that to happen, it will take the weight of the fully loaded nets to be completely above water. I don’t doubt that their full weight could pull the moorings out in a few days, and the whole thing will come crashing down. If we were able to cut each mooring cable as they become exposed, the weight would gradually settle over the power conduits and actually protect them from damage. The problem is that the cables look like they are the same cables used on suspension bridges. They’re probably woven steel, and I would guess about four inches in diameter.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist for all of us to understand that there was no way to cut through those cables, and there must be a lot of infected dead in them if they were heavy enough to pull the moorings out.

  Chapter 4

  Escape from Conway

  The mood in the shelter was not the best, to say the least. We all felt like we were one step closer to being the oyster that got eaten, and it was Tom who brought things back into perspective. He looked at each of us one at a time. I could almost feel his gaze.

  “Guys, did someone tell you there was no Santa Claus? Did someone tell you there would be no Trick-or-Treat this year?” he asked. “I made an error once that cost us the ball game. I’m glad I didn’t have your attitudes or I would have quit then.”

  I think he did a good job of putting us in our place, and we couldn’t help but grin. He took Kathy by the hand and said, “Everybody in the dining room.”

  We all followed behind Tom and Kathy. Jean nudged me and hooked a thumb in Kathy’s direction. She was blushing beet red. We all knew she was attracted to Tom, but it had been a long time since a man had taken her by the hand.

  When we were all seated around the dining room table, Tom passed out beers and sat down next to Kathy. He said, “It’s time for me to tell you how Molly and I got here. Maybe after hearing our story you will know just how lucky you have been, and you won’t cry because someone licked all the red off of your candy.”

  “I know where the red went,” said Jean. She looked at Kathy and smiled, and Kathy turned beet red again.

  “See, there it is.”

  Kathy gave Jean a mock scowl, and Jean mimicked it. The Chief started doing a full body laugh, and the mood got better. When it started to die down, and everyone was wiping tears from their eyes, Tom caught his breath and started to tell them about that first night.

  “Do you four remember where you were when you found out about the infected?” he asked. He knew the answers, so he didn’t wait for us to speak.

  He went on, “From the moment it started until the night that we escaped from Conway with over forty armed saviors, I had one clear thought, and that was we were going to die. I knew I would do anything to keep Molly alive, but I also knew it was only a matter of time. That’s what hopelessness is, folks, and I would have been right if not for a baseball fan.”

  He took a long swallow of his beer and got a distant look. We could tell he was going back to that night and picturing their escape. A dozen boats running in single file with one red light on the bow. Well-armed, well trained men and women who gave him and his daughter a chance to live.

  “I can only think of our trip down the Waccamaw River in something like fragments, or number of miles,” he said. “The first fragment was only four miles long, and we had nothing to fear from the west bank except people who had dropped anchor along the dense forest that ran along the river. The east bank was lined with about three dozen large houses and private docks. If we were going to run into shooters, it was likely to be from that side.”

  Tom took another long swallow from his beer before going on. Before he started, he put his head down and was staring at the table. I figured eye contact wouldn’t be easy.

  He continued, “I learned from one of the soldiers that the man in charge was a National Guard Captain with a good reputation named Anthony Marchant. The soldier told me Captain Marchant was from the area, and he had a good idea of what to do to survive. He sai
d we were lucky.”

  Tom was quiet for a moment, and Kathy told him to take his time. Details were important no matter how small or trivial they might be. Tom said he was okay, and that he could go on.

  “When we formed up in single file and started down the river, Molly and I were in the fourth boat. There were quick introductions all around, but something kept me from hearing names. I think it was all too unreal to be exchanging pleasantries as we were watching people die.”

  Tom told us that getting clear of the boat landing wasn’t a problem because civilian craft had given the armed boats a wide berth. Many of them were content to just stay out in the middle of the river to wait for something to happen. After all, they had nowhere to go.

  When the military and police boats began to idle into formation, civilians who had dropped anchor began pulling them in so they could follow the firepower. I think that’s what all of us would have done if we had been there in our boats.

  “As we pulled away from the boat landing, we got a better view of what was happening up on the bridge. The screaming, the running, the cries for help that were being ignored……there was nothing anyone could do,” he said.

  “We could see from the center of the river that cars were pulling out of traffic onto the shoulder of the road, trying to make it to the same turn where the police officer had told us to go. A steady stream of cars were making it to the turn and trying to reach us before we pulled away from the boat landing. None of them would make it to us in time.”

  “The lead cars started honking their horns to get our attention, hoping we would wait for them. I could see the infected starting to make the same turn down the road toward the boat landing. The honking horns attracted more infected dead and weren't helping the people who were trying to escape. It wouldn’t be long before those people were trapped where they were.”

  Jean said, “It’s not your fault, Tom. If the Captain had told the boats to pick up more people, the boats would have been overwhelmed.”

  “I know,” he said, “but how many times have you asked yourself why you were one of the chosen? One of the people who got to live?”

  Kathy said, “There isn’t a day that goes by that we each don’t think the same thing, Tom. I can’t count the number of times we’ve been spared by luck or by the courage of someone in our group.”

  Tom went on, “One of the first cars to the boat landing was carrying weapons, and they began firing at us when we didn’t stop for them. Everyone kept their heads down, and our convoy increased speed to get out of range. Two of the boats received the order to lay down cover fire, so they began shooting over heads or at the ground in front of the desperate people who were shooting at us. I don’t think we lost anyone, but I’ll never know for sure.”

  “When I looked over the railing on the boat the next time, we were away from the boat landing. It was getting darker as we moved away from the boat landing and the bridge. All I could hear as the shooting stopped was the sounds of powerful boat engines and occasional radio chatter. There was something being said about covering the first four miles faster than we normally would, and about the road traffic on the east bank of the river.”

  Tom said, "The boat landing filled up too fast with drivers who thought it was an escape route, and when the shooting started those people who couldn’t make a right turn to the boat landing just kept going straight. That put them parallel with us and moving faster on the straight road. I didn’t know the area, but the Conway Police Officers did, and they said the road was appropriately named Waccamaw Road. It ended at the river about four miles downstream."

  "It was obvious to all of us," he said, "that a large number of cars would get there ahead of us. There wasn’t a boat landing at the end of the road, but there were a couple of private docks. If those drivers had guns, they would be as close as anyone would get to the military convoy."

  Tom said, “To make matters worse, the private docks faced the river just before a bend. We would be swinging outward to the right to avoid the docks, but then we would have to start making a sharp left across the river back to the eastern bank because there was a boat landing on the western side as we came out of the first turn."

  "If you can picture it," he said, "We didn’t know what we were going to find when we came out of the turn, but radio chatter said the boat on point could see plenty of light coming from that general area. That meant boats would be in the water or just leaving the landing. If we ran into traffic blocking the river, there would be a mess. And as if it couldn’t be worse, there was about a one hundred yard stretch of river that narrowed to about forty yards wide.”

  “I heard a radio order come from Captain Marchant that told the first three boats to go through fast as we made the first turn while the rest should cut their speed in half immediately after they were past the private docks,” he said. “I heard the order to have weapons hot.”

  “I could feel our boat start to lean toward the right, so I knew we were coming to the end of Waccamaw Road. I took a risk and pulled myself up where I could see over the railing, and I could see the two private docks. Both were loaded with people waving their arms at us. They had nowhere to go but back the way they had come, but by now it was a four mile long solid line of cars all the way back to Highway 501. The infected dead were probably working their way down that row of parked cars.”

  Tom finished his beer and got another for each of us. He said, “I’m going to need a few beers if I have to relive the experience.”

  We could tell he was trying to lighten the mood a bit, but it fell on deaf ears. We all knew what it was like to see people who weren’t going to make it out alive, and the scene on those docks must have been heartbreaking. They wanted to help, but it was a lost cause.

  “I could see parents holding up their children,” said Tom. “They wanted us to at least take them. I don’t think anyone could have survivor’s guilt worse than mine because they helped us but not those people. If our crew had cut the engines to take them on board, I would have been right there helping them.”

  “And you would probably be dead by now,” said the Chief. “What were the odds that everyone on those docks was bite free?”

  “I don’t know anymore, Chief. I know to be careful now because the infected outnumber living people, but I can’t help thinking about those children. They were probably dead within minutes after we passed them,” he answered.

  Jean said, “I can tell you this much, Tom. The outbreak was on both sides of the river. You probably had as many people behind you in traffic who were already bitten as you had in front of you. When Kathy took over on the Atlantic Spirit and started a screening process to see if any of the passengers had been bitten, it was surprising how many people we had let board the ship who had been bitten, and we had a screening process out on the dock. You guys would have brought someone on board from those docks who had been sentenced to death already, and they would have taken you with them.”

  “You’re probably right,” said Tom, “but I guess you know it doesn’t make me feel better. It does help to know that Molly is alive for now.”

  “She’s alive because you didn’t stop to help,” I said.

  Tom nodded his agreement, but it would take a lot of time and a lot more beer for him to really start to accept it.

  He said, “We were leaning to the right at high speed, and then we started to level off and go to half speed. That caused a big cheer from the people on the docks. As they saw our bows settle lower in the water, they thought we were stopping for them. When we didn’t stop, the cheers turned into screams.”

  Tom told us that he suddenly realized there was more light ahead. As they came out of the turn and started to lean over to the left, his view was temporarily blocked because they were on the port side of the boat. He took a chance and stood up to his full height so he could see.

  “One of the police officers told me that was the Sidewheeler Road boat landing on the western side of the river. I could see a large pa
rking area that was packed full of cars with boats on trailers. So far, there wasn’t any chaos because access to the area was so limited, which meant there wouldn’t be any infected dead yet. People were just waiting for their turn to put their boats in the water, but for every person with a boat there were ten who were trying to buy a ride. I don’t doubt that some were able to escape for a price, but there weren’t enough boats.”

  “As we came out of the turn and started back toward the left bank of the river, I could see the first three boats up ahead. They were still moving fast and pulling away, but the main thing was that their path was clear of boat traffic. The radio order came through to increase speed after clearing the area across from the boat landing,” said Tom.

  “The people at the boat landing had the same reaction as the people on the private docks. At first there were cheers. Then there were screams, some of them angry because twelve military and police boats can throw up one hell of a wake. Our wake hit the people who were on the water but not under power, causing some of the occupants to be tossed overboard. Others who were trying to release their boats from the trailers got knocked down. All in all, we weren’t too popular,” Tom said.

  “We expected the shooting to start sooner,” he said, “but maybe it didn’t because people thought we were there to help. When it started, we didn’t really know who was doing the shooting, nor did we know if we were the targets. From what I could see, it was probably someone trying to take a boat rather than to buy a ride. It didn’t matter because bullets eventually started tossing up the water around our boats.”

  “Did you return fire?” asked the Chief.

  “Not immediately,” answered Tom. “Since we were boat number four, we were almost past the boat landing before the people on the landing caught on that we weren’t going to stop. Most of the shots missed because we were already putting distance between us and them. I saw someone on boat five fall over into the boat, and that was when the Captain gave the order to return fire and to target shooters if possible.”