by Mark Tufo
Cecil nodded his head in understanding. He looked back to the three men who had accompanied him and said, “Bill, you and I will take the ladies down to my boat. Walter and Dave, please get two of those maintenance vehicles you told me about so we can assist the officers with the supplies. I think that will make the transfer much easier and hopefully get everything in one trip.”
Walter and David sprang into action without comment. Cecil noticed the slightly perplexed expression on Harry’s face. “We have had some time to discuss our own plans, Harry. There are really good people here willing to do whatever it takes to survive this mess. Including listening to an old Army guy well past his prime who has become as much a reluctant leader as I believe you have.”
“No truer words, sir, no truer words,” Harry replied just as two small vehicles rounded the corner of a nondescript shed not too far from where the group stood. Walter was behind the wheel of one, and David the other. The vehicles were painted a dark green and looked very much like golf carts with extended flat beds attached. They must have been battery powered, as Harry could only detect a faint whirring sound as they approached.
Walter and David stopped the maintenance vehicles by the group. “Looks like these things have about a half charge each,” David said. “I think there’s enough juice left to get this done. With the weight of the stuff we need to pick up, whoever goes with us will have to walk back though.”
“This is great!” Derrick said with obvious relief. “It would have taken us some time to move all that equipment by hand.”
“Agreed,” Harry replied. “Cecil, are there folks in your group that can actually pilot those boats? The Bay can be treacherous, and we don’t need any additional distractions right now with rescues if someone gets into trouble out there.”
“Yes, I agree completely,” Cecil said. “Most of the folks here actually own the boats they are on. We placed anyone not familiar with boating with those that are. We’ve actually been ready to move for a few days, but were uncertain where to go.”
Harry nodded and thought for a moment before replying. “What I’d like to suggest is that we get the manned boats out of the harbor and into the Bay right now. Have them head toward Alcatraz. They should wait for us to clear the island, but they will at least be in position to start coming in. The dock on the island is small, so we will have to figure out the best way to have folks get off the boats.” Harry paused a moment, frowning. “Then there is the matter of what to do with all the empty boats. There is no way they could be left tied to the island’s dock, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to set them adrift. Guess we’ll figure something out when the time comes.”
“What do you think about having the fireboat ferry people out to the island?” Cecil asked.
Harry glanced toward the Phoenix that was now quietly sitting to the north of the harbor. He thought about Cecil’s suggestion, then said, “That would work, but I’m concerned with the time it would take. When those things break through the fence, and I’m convinced that will happen soon, that small gated area leading to the dock slips will not hold them back long.” Harry was referring to the small gate Cecil had pointed out earlier. He felt certain the infected would have no trouble breaching that, quickly allowing them to flood the area around the boats.
“I think we should have the boats get into the Bay. We’ll need a smaller vessel to load everything from here, then we can transfer the equipment onto the fireboat from that. Once we have the supplies secured we’ll head to Alcatraz.”
Without hesitation, Cecil said, “Sounds like a plan, Harry. I’ll go with the ladies and get everyone moving on the dock. There’s an old Swift Boat anchored to the side of the slips that I think would be ideal to haul the equipment.” Cecil was referring to a Patrol Craft Fast PCF vessel, better known as Swift Boats. The boats were all-aluminum, fifty-foot-long shallow-draft vessels operated by the U.S. Navyhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Navy initially to patrol the coastal areas and to prohibit Vietcong movement of arms and munitions during the Vietnam Warhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam_War. “It should be able to get very close to the boat launch area at the end of the marina. She’s old, so I think they must have used her for Bay tours.”
“I can pilot it,” Bill said. “I’ve had a little experience with those boats.”
Harry glanced over to Bill and nodded in thanks.
“Time is of the essence, so I suggest we all get about what we need to do,” Cecil said as he turned to head back to the docks.
“Just a moment, Cecil,” Harry said, stopping the older man. He removed the Glock from its holster on his tactical belt, reversing the weapon with the grip facing Cecil. “You might want to hang onto this for now.”
Cecil accepted the weapon and looked it over a moment. “Glock 21,” he said while expertly releasing the mag, thumbing the top of the large .45 caliber rounds, then replacing it into the heel of the grip. He pulled the slide back just enough to ensure a round was chambered. “Nice weapon and excellent stopping power. I’m a P226 9mm man myself, but this will do in a pinch.” Cecil was referring to a Sig Sauer model P226 9mm.
He laughed at the glower on Harry’s face and said, “Don’t get me wrong. A friend once said that a Glock ain’t pretty but it’ll get the job done. Maybe I should also take a couple of those extra mags there.”
“Oh hell,” Derrick said, attempting to stifle his own laughter.
“Great, I’m surrounded by comedians,” Harry said as he removed two of the extra mags from their belt case and handed them to Cecil. “You do know that weapon doesn’t have a safety, right?”
“I am well aware of that, young man,” Cecil replied with humor dancing in his eyes. “I will admit I’m somewhat of a horror genre enthusiast and read a great deal. I’ve always been amused with sequences in books where a character describes switching a Glock off ‘safe’. Too bad some writers don’t invest more time doing research.” Cecil tucked the weapon into the pocket of the coat he was wearing and placed the two extra mags in the opposite pocket. He lost all humor as he said, “I wonder if there will ever be new books written after all this.”
Harry could offer little solace to the older man. “I don’t honestly know, Cecil. But I do know we are going to do everything we can in the here and now. The future will just have to take care of itself for the time being.”
As an afterthought, Harry asked Derrick to give Cecil his radio and suggested that Cecil stay in close contact. Cecil took the hand-held radio and, after a brief explanation of its operation, gave the unit to Bill, who tucked it into a back pocket of his jeans.
Cecil glanced up to Harry. “I’ll also radio the Phoenix and make the proper introductions. Okay ladies,” he then said to Wanda and Nevaeh, “shall we?”
“Bill, I think you should take this,” Wanda said while handing him the shotgun and the extra shells. “I think you can probably use that damn thing better than I can.”
Bill took the weapon, giving it a quick onceover, then thanked Wanda. Looking toward Harry he said, “I’ll go with Cecil and get the PCF up to the boat launch.”
“If you have any issues let us know,” Harry replied. Bill nodded and joined Cecil.
Looking to Harry, Derrick, and Frank, Wanda said, “You all be careful.” She turned to catch up with Cecil, who had taken Nevaeh’s hand and was chatting quietly with her as they walked. Wanda had only gone a few steps when she suddenly turned and ran back to Harry. Throwing her arms around his neck, she said, “Thank you for everything, Harry. Thank you for our lives!”
Harry was touched by her gesture. Holding his rifle in one hand, he used the other arm to return the hug and said, “See you on the other side.” Wanda disengaged herself from the hug and jogged to catch up with the others.
31
Harry watched the four disappearing into the heavy fog, then turned to the other men. “Frank, please accompany David and Walter to the truck and get started unloading. Derrick and I will be right behind you.”
“On it,” Frank said as he jumped into the modified golf cart Walter was driving. The two vehicles then headed toward the Bearcat with a quiet whir of their electric motors and quickly disappeared from view in the heavy fog.
Derrick stood by Harry, still scanning the area around them. Harry removed the radio mic from the tab on his jumpsuit and radioed the fireboat. “Phil, do you copy?
“Right here Harry,” Phil responded immediately.
“There’s going to be several boats coming out of the dock shortly. Cecil Fremont will be in touch with you directly on the radio. He’s a retired Army officer who has organized these folks and he seems to know what he’s doing.” Harry paused a moment as he thought he caught movement in his peripheral vision, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. He quickly brought his rifle up in the direction of the movement, allowing the radio mic to drop on its cord.
“See something?” Derrick asked, also bringing his weapon to a firing position in the same direction.
“Not sure. Thought I saw … something,” Harry replied as he continued to scan the area. Nothing moved and everything remained quiet. After several seconds he lowered his rifle and brought the mic back up.
“Harry? Are you there?” Harry heard Phil’s voice coming through the mic speaker.
“Sorry Phil,” Harry replied into the mic, still looking intently at the area now in front of him. “We’re going to unload some equipment from the truck. I want to load it on the Phoenix, then head out to Alcatraz.”
“Not sure how close to land we can get, but do you want us to move into the harbor?” Phil asked.
“Negative,” Harry replied. “There’s a boat over here that we think will work for the transfer. If not, we’ll figure something out, but for the time being remain where you are.”
“Copy that, Harry. We’ll stand by here,” Phil said.
“10-4. Look forward to meeting you in person, Phil. Talk to you shortly.” Harry replaced the radio mic on his jumpsuit tab as he turned to Derrick. “You ready?”
“Let’s go. I’ve never been big on boat rides, but I have to tell ya I am looking forward to this one,” Derrick said, nervously scanning the area.
Harry gave him a pat on the shoulder and both men started walking toward the Bearcat.
They made quick time getting back to the truck. The outline of the Bearcat and faint images of Frank and the other two men moving around the rear began to appear through the thick fog. Harry was just about to radio Frank of their approach when he heard something behind him. He turned his head toward the sound as a figure came running at him.
Harry had no time to bring the rifle up as the infected man closed the distance between them. He allowed the thing to get within arm’s length, then side-stepped, extending his left leg and tripping the moaning creature. The thing went face down onto the pavement. Harry brought the rifle up and delivered a blow to the back of the infected man’s head. There was a sickening pop and the thing fell limp.
Derrick’s attention had been drawn to the struggle but he could not get a clear shot. As Harry delivered the blow to the infected man’s head, more figures emerged from the fog line.
“DOWN, HARRY!” Derrick shouted.
Harry dropped to the pavement without hesitation and rolled to his right, quickly seeing the approaching threat. There were ten to fifteen figures, all emitting that now all-too-familiar moaning which had become the trademark of the infected. Derrick had already begun firing as Harry rolled. He brought his rifle up, adding to the crescendo of gunfire.
Frank was just exiting the truck with a box of food rations when he heard Derrick’s shout, then the shooting began. He dropped the box he was carrying, pulled his handgun, and ran toward the sound. As he closed the distance he could see Derrick firing away and two figures lying on the ground about five feet in front of him. Frank had no idea what was going on but quickly added his share of lead being flung into the group of people closing in on their position.
The battle was over in minutes, with only two of the infected getting close. The amount of firepower the three men had expended quickly decimated the horde, leaving them in a bloody heap. Harry slowly rose from the ground, absently rubbing his elbow which he had banged on the hard pavement.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Derrick asked, breathing heavily as adrenalin still flooded his system. “They didn’t make a sound until that guy came at you!” He motioned briefly to the figure closest to Harry.
Harry was also confused at this new behavior. “I don’t know, Derry,” he said while still scanning the fog line, waiting for something else to pop out at them. “I thought I’d seen something back there but nothing came at us. What also concerns me is the speed of that thing as it came at me,” Harry motioned to the figure on the ground.
“This thing must have been around when we were with Cecil. Why didn’t they hit us then? Were they stalking us?” Frank asked, still holding his Glock in a standard Weaver shooting position, the gun in his outstretched hands moving where he looked while scanning the fog line.
At that moment, the realization that something had changed in the behavior of the infected hit Harry hard. Had these things somehow gained the ability to coordinate their attacks, or was this just a coincidence? What alarmed him the most was the speed of the runner they had just encountered.
“I don’t know, Frank,” Harry said. “Something is different about this one but we don’t have time right now to piece it together. Let’s get that truck emptied and get off this jetty.”
“Harry, this is Cecil, do you copy?” Cecil’s voice came through the small mic speaker.
Without removing the mic from the tab on his jumpsuit, Harry reached up and pressed the transmit button. “Go ahead, Cecil.”
“Bill has the Swift Boat at the launch. You guys will be able to unload the equipment right into it. Also, I have everyone ready on this end and we’re heading out in just a couple minutes. I heard the gunfire. Everyone alright?”
“Copy that, Cecil,” Harry replied. “We ran into a bit of unexpected company here but everyone is fine. Please tell Bill we are headed to him right now. Get everyone moving and we’ll see you all shortly.”
“Moving out now, Harry. Talk soon,” Cecil said.
Harry and the other men heard the sound of boat engines starting in the distance. The infected obviously heard the sound as well and redoubled their efforts at the fence.
The size of the horde had increased tenfold since the men in the Bearcat had come through. The ones closest to the fence were being pressed against it with such force that flesh and fluids from exposed parts of their bodies were oozing through the links. The fence itself began to produce a metal groaning sound as it bent forward under a weight it was never designed to handle.
Harry glanced into the rear of the truck and saw a few cases of water and food rations still sitting on the floor. Making a quick decision, he said to the other men, “Leave what’s left and let’s move, guys. That fence is coming down any second.”
David and Walter moved to their carts and instantly took off. Frank gave Harry a thumbs up as he jumped onto the back of the cart driven by David. Harry watched the two small vehicles as they disappeared into the heavy fog, then quickly turned toward the fence as he heard the distinctive sound of popping metal. A section of the chain link fence was now bowed inward at the top where several of the wires holding it onto a cross bar had broken.
“Harry …” Derrick began.
“We need to go NOW!” Harry said, interrupting his friend.
Both men took off at a run toward the boat launch area at the end of the San Francisco Harbor Mole. They held their rifles across their chests, ready to engage anything that got in their way. Although both men fully expected the infected to rush them at any moment, they made it to the boat launch unmolested.
David, Walter, Frank, and Bill were hurriedly loading the Swift Boat with the equipment and supplies when Derrick and Harry arrived. Derrick w
as breathing heavily but otherwise didn’t appear to be fazed much by the mad dash he had just made. Harry, on the other hand, thought he was going to have a heart attack. Although in fairly decent shape for a fifty-year-old man who worked out regularly, he had never been an endurance runner. While Derrick stood beside him watching the area from whence they’d just come, Harry bent over, placing his hands on his knees, and took deep gasping breaths.
“You okay, buddy?” Derrick asked, smiling, knowing Harry would not see the gesture. “I guess you should have ridden on one of the carts and left us younger guys to jog.”
Harry did not look up as he was still trying to catch his breath while wondering when someone was going to pull the knife out of his side. He was able to say through deep breaths, “I … am … too old for … this shit!”
Derrick patted him on the back in reply and chuckled. Harry was just beginning to get his breath under control and was finally able to straighten up. He was going to say a few more choice words to Derrick when there was an explosion of sound coming from the direction of the truck. It was quite apparent that the fence had finally broken and the infected were coming. Seemingly hundreds of them would reach the boat launch within minutes.
Harry glanced back to the three men unloading and realized there were still several cases of supplies on one of the maintenance carts. “That’s it!” Harry said with urgency. “Those things are on the way. We need to leave right now! Get on the boat and let’s go!”
32
The leading edge of the infected broke the outermost fringes of the fog and became visible. Derrick opened fire with his AR, dropping bodies with each burst he sent into the crowd. Harry brought his own weapon to shoulder, adding to the carnage as the horde continued to advance. Harry was relieved that so far no runners had appeared out of the mass yet. Unfortunately that relief was short-lived, as six of the fast-moving infected suddenly broke through the ranks of their slower brethren.
