As far as living conditions went, the Sovereign Spirit boasted over 150 passenger cabins, capable of sleeping between 2 and 4 guests each, plus more than 200 bunks for crew. There were two dining rooms, five lounges with bars, an internet café with Wi Fi, a large library, a well equipped gym, a game room with pool and ping pong tables, a spa with saunas and Jacuzzis and an impressive outdoor bar on the aft deck next to the swimming pool. Obviously, the ship was currently carrying far less than her full capacity of passengers, crew, and vehicles, so crowding would not be an issue. She was also well stocked with supplies. A quick check with the quartermaster had revealed at least another two week’s worth of perishables, two or three months worth of frozen meats, and as much as six months supply of dry and canned goods, not to mention the well stocked liquor and wine lockers. The diesel fuel tanks were close to half full and one of the fuel trucks on the vehicle deck was full of extra diesel too. In short, the ship could remain at sea for many weeks, even months if necessary, and travel at least another four thousand miles without refueling.
“So,” Scott summed up, “as you can see, even though the world seems to be going to Hell in a hand basket, our own situation is far from hopeless. We have plenty of food and fuel to wait at sea for things to quiet down before we even need to think about going ashore, or where to land. And wherever we go we will be bringing our own vehicles and support systems with us. Even if it is not safe to live ashore for an extended period of time, we can keep living on this ship indefinitely if we have to. Any questions?”
“Damned right there are!” shouted George Hammer, a tall and broad shouldered man with thinning hair in his late fifties. Scott had expected trouble from him. He was a general contractor who had just finished building Scott’s new beach house in Cabo San Lucas. His bonus for completing the job on time had been for him and his wife to fly to Hawaii and cruise back to Cabo, via the Galapagos, on the Sovereign Spirit, then present Scott with his new vacation home and take a check for the retention on his contract. This crisis had obviously not been part of the deal. “What do you mean about waiting out here at sea for weeks, or months? We’re supposed to be arriving in Cabo tomorrow! My daughter and grandkids are waiting for me there and so is my business! What makes you think you can keep us out here? Who made you king? Why don’t we all vote on what to do now?”
“This is not a democracy!” trumpeted Captain Fisher, right on cue. “You are aboard a ship on the high seas! Maritime law says she goes when and where the owner and captain decide. But I will be more than happy to offer you a life jacket and a raft, if you want to leave.”
“No need for that, Captain,” said Scott. “This is all a bit much for any of us to deal with logically right now. I’m sure Mr. Hammer is not the only one of us who feels like charging off to rescue someone. I can think of at least a hundred people that I would like to save at this moment. But we need to be realistic. Our priority, or should I say my first priority, must be the security of this ship and the people aboard her.”
“But what if we don’t want to be here?” persisted Mr. Hammer. “Can’t you just drop us off in Cabo?”
“Possibly,” nodded Scott. “We may be able to do that. This ship will not be going near the shore, but I have already considered a scouting flight with the helicopter. Depending on what we find, it might be possible to drop you off. But I must warn everyone that until we know more about this disease, anyone who has any direct contact with people ashore will not be allowed to return aboard this ship. And obviously we will not be picking up any survivors or refugees until we have some way to be sure they aren’t carrying the infection. Any other questions?”
“What about communications, sir” asked one of his son’s friends from college. “Are the phones and internet working?”
“Good question, Mitch,” answered Scott. “Everything seems to be working fine on our end. The satellite phone and data feeds are online and we are able to access the internet. The problem we are having is getting through to people on the other end. All the phone calls we tried making this morning failed to go through because the circuits are busy, but we will keep trying. As for email, some of them are being returned as undeliverable and others seem to be going through. Perhaps after this meeting some of you young folks can try getting through on instant messenger, or twitter, or whatever, and tell us what you find out. As you know, we have access to satellite TV and that should continue for as long as stations keep transmitting. The Captain can tell you more about the rest of the communications available to us.”
“Yes,” Captain Fisher added, “All the satellite systems, including GPS navigation, television and internet are up and running. The radar is fine and we’ll be tracking all vessels in the area. We also have a lot of radio gear and that is working. We’re monitoring both civilian and military frequencies as closely as we can, but much of the military traffic is coded now. At the moment, everyone seems confused and there are a lot of mayday calls. Still, we should be able to piece together a pretty good picture of conditions out there. Situational awareness will be critical in deciding how to proceed from here. And, as Mr. Allen explained, we are all lucky to be on a ship with so many capabilities.”
“Ok, then,” said Scott. “I’m sure there will be a lot more questions, but many of them will probably take time to answer. And you will probably get more answers about what is going on out there from TV or the internet than either the Captain or I can give you right now. In fact, it would be helpful if some of you monitor different sources of news and take notes to share with the rest of us. So, I suggest we conclude this discussion for now and plan on meeting back here before dinner. I’ll try to be available if any of you have urgent news or questions before then.”
*****
Interlude in Hell
El Segundo, CA: 10:15 AM, April 1, 2012
Carl spent most of the morning nursing the stolen and battered ambulance through the side streets of El Segundo, having been forced off of PCH by traffic jams and swarming zombies within a mile of LAX. He was totally lost when the engine finally died amid clouds of steam and loud clunking sounds. Carl’s luck was still holding however, because the ambulance had died on a stretch of road without any zombies roaming along it. He decided to press that luck a little more by searching the vehicle for anything else of value before abandoning it. That turned out to be a smart move.
Luckily this ambulance had been operated by the Los Angeles County Fire Department, so it was equipped for more than simply picking up sick people. Carl had already found the pick head axe that he’d used to dispatch the zombie hood ornament in the windshield. Now he found a fireman’s jacket and some heavy yellow coveralls that would deflect all but the sharpest zombie teeth. He also found a folding multi-tool knife, a set of bolt cutters, a coiled rope, and a repelling harness tied to a backpack marked ‘search and rescue kit’. Perhaps best of all was a small cooler bag full of the paramedics’ uneaten dinner of plastic wrapped sandwiches, sodas, chips, and candy bars. As he was about to leave he spotted a compact folding aluminum ladder mounted to the ceiling of the rear compartment. Thinking of the walls and fences lining many of the roads in this area, he realized that this could also be a life saver.
Carl figured he was carrying about forty pounds of gear when he stepped out of the ambulance, but he felt that most of it would contribute to his survival. There was no traffic on the street and still no sign of zombies, but he knew that wouldn’t last. Looking around he spotted a water tower a block away. That seemed like a landmark to head for. He was almost there when the first zombie charged towards him from behind a house across the street.
Carl held the pick axe in his right hand and the folding ladder in his left as he turned to face the threat. It was a middle aged woman with bloody wounds on her arms and more blood dripping from her gaping mouth. He used the ladder to block her headlong attack while he swung the axe beneath it. The axe head cut her belly wide open and guts began to spill out, but that didn’t deter her advance. Carl ne
arly panicked as the woman tried to bite through his fireman’s jacket, until he remembered that in most zombie movies they could only be stopped by destroying their brains. ‘So be it,’ Carl thought as he took another swing with the axe. The hapless woman fell to the ground with brains leaking from her split skull.
Carl spun away from the fallen zombie lady and sprinted for the water tower. Looking over his shoulder he spotted three more zombies emerging from houses across the street, but he thought he could outrun them. The fence around the water tower was ten feet high and only twenty feet away as Carl began to unfold the ladder he was carrying. It was an ingenious tool that could be used as anything from a step ladder, or scaffold, to a 12’ extension ladder. Carl needed the latter and in a hurry! The zombies were less than a hundred yards away and closing fast. Much faster than Carl thought zombies were supposed to be able to move.
Carl realized that he didn’t have time to open the ladder, so he made a split second decision to throw it over the fence and reached for the bolt cutters. He raced to the chain link gate and shoved the bolt cutter at the pad lock. For a moment he thought he was toast, but then his adrenaline kicked in and the cutters snapped the lock like a matchstick. Carl got through the gate, closed and latched it again with almost two seconds to spare before the first zombie crashed into it.
He stood there face to face with the monster as its companions arrived and they shook the gate and fence fiercely. Carl studied their behavior for at least twenty seconds before he raised his axe. Using the pick end he systematically brained each of them in turn as they pressed their faces against the chain link. After tying the latch on the gate he turned to retrieve his folding ladder. He would need it to reach the first rungs of the ladder on the water tower.
Chapter 3: Networking Nightmares
“Plan your evacuation route. When zombies are hungry they won’t stop until they get food (i.e., brains), which means you need to get out of town fast! Plan where you would go and multiple routes you would take ahead of time so that the flesh eaters don’t have a chance!” Center for Disease Control official website, “Preparedness 101: Zombie Apocalypse” May 16, 2011. http://emergency.cdc.gov/socialmedia/zombies_blog.asp
Mitch Franklin and Billy Allen left the meeting in the main lounge together and walked back towards the Internet Cafe. They were both engineering students at Cal Tech and had wondered why their internet connections hadn’t worked that morning. Now they knew that the Captain and Billy’s dad had cut-off the server until after the meeting.
“I guess that was a good idea,” said Mitch. “We would have freaked out if we saw that stuff on You Tube, you know? Might have started a panic.”
“So it’s okay to panic now?” asked Billy.
“You heard your old man and the Captain. We’re safe here. Right?”
“Yeah,” conceded Billy. “I guess so. Safer here than most places. But everyone we know back home and at school are totally fucked! I’ve gotta check my email and Facebook, man. We could have missed something important.”
“Relax, Billy. Whatever was posted will still be there.”
“Sure, but the people who posted it might not be,” Billy said. “We might have missed our last chance to communicate with some of them. They could have lost their internet connections, or be on the run, or dead, or a God-damned zombie by now.”
“You think that’s really what’s happening to everyone? Zombies? No shit?!” exclaimed Mitch.
“What else would you call them, dude? They eat people and those people turn into more of them. I don’t care if they are dead or alive; they’re friggin zombies all right.”
“Hey! Wait up guys,” called Justin Wade from behind them. Justin was one of Billy’s friends from back home in Malibu. He was walking quickly down the passage with his girlfriend, Beth, who was hanging onto Justin’s arm like a scared kitten. “Where are you two going?” he asked.
“The Internet Café,” replied Mitch. “We’re gonna surf the net for news and see if we can get hold of people back home. Wanna help?”
“Hell yes!” said Justin. “This is some freaky shit, man. The news is just crazy. Maybe we’ll find more answers to what’s happening on-line.” The young people entered the internet café and occupied four of the built-in terminals at the counter in front of the windows. They each logged in and their own home pages came up on their screens.
Billy opened Firefox and clicked on Gmail. It was taking longer than normal to load, so he opened Facebook in another tab then brought both windows up side by side on the flat screen. The Gmail page came up with a message that it was unable to connect and would retry in 30 seconds. The Facebook page was slow too, but it finally loaded and Billy leaned forward intently.
“Lot’s of posts,” he said eagerly. Then he started to read them.
Kelly Small is alive. I’m hiding in my dorm room. Psychos are attacking people in the quad. Can anyone help me?
Ben Maxwell still alive 2, Kelly. I’m going to fight my way from my dorm to my car. I’ll stop and honk in front of your dorm. Come with me if you can get down there.
Kelly Small will try!
Christine Flowers wants 2 go 2! Same dorm. Please hurry!
Ben Maxwell should be there in 10 minutes.
Kelly Small is scared. It’s been half an hour! Where’s Ben?
Kelly Small Hello? Christine? Anyone? Someone is pounding on the door! I’m scared.
Howard Small Baby are you there? I’m at the office. The phones are out. Write back!
Howard Small Stay there baby. Hide. Daddy will come get you.
Howard Small Kelly!! Daddy is coming for you right now.
Billy felt sick to his stomach. This was worse than watching zombies attack strangers on TV. Those were his friends at college trapped in a nightmare with little hope for survival. Nobody on campus had guns to defend themselves except for a few cops. He doubted that Kelly would still be alive if her father was able to get there. She had made no further posts, but a new thread caught his eye.
Amanda Steinbeck is home alone in Malibu. The news is awful. No violence here yet. Phones are jammed, but cable internet is working. Any local news? Any advice?
Brad Thomas is also home in Malibu. Lock your doors. Do your parents have a gun? If so, get it. Do you want me to drive over and get you? Our house on top of the hill is a lot safer than your beach house. And I do have a gun.
Amanda Steinbeck does not have a gun. Doors are locked now. Please come get me!
Brad Thomas is coming soon!
Amanda Steinbeck will be waiting! Please hurry, I’m scared.
Shawn Smith and Bruce want to meet you guys up at Brad’s place. We have guns too, but it’s getting freaky here on PCH. We’ve seen a zombie get hit by some cars. It’s still crawling around in the road. Another one attacked a guy on a bike and now the biker is a zombie too. We’re going to shoot all of them before we leave. Be careful on the road! We’ll bring food, guns, ammo. Ok with you Brad?
Brad Thomas says bring it on! This place is plenty big enough and it’s gated. My dad’s in Europe. We’ll have an Apocalypse party for as long as we can hold out. Let’s roll!
Now that was more like it! Billy knew all those guys. He used to play D&D, paint ball and air soft war games with them during high school. They would be good at killing zombies. He decided to add his own comment to the thread.
Billy Allen and a bunch of friendlies are on a ship off the coast of Mexico. No infection aboard. We can’t help you now, but eventually we should be coming past Malibu. Hang in there gang. Hold the fort. Remember to go for head shots! If you have to leave Brad’s house, be sure to leave a note telling us where to find you. Stay in contact as longs as you can. Don’t lose hope. My dad has a helicopter too.
He had added the last line to give them more hope. A minute after Billy posted that he got two replies.
Shawn Smith Sweet! A ship with a helicopter? Fucking A dude! See ya when ya get here. And don’t waste time doing it. We’ll kick zombie as
s till then. Later bro.
Amanda Steinbeck is waiting for Brad to pick me up. I’ll tell him what you said, Billy. Damn you’re lucky to be there instead of here! Do you really have a helicopter? Do we really need guns? Do you think this will be over soon? What should we do?
Billy thought about it for a few seconds. What should he tell them? He wanted to give them hope, but not false hope. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure that his dad would take the ship to Malibu, although he would probably at least want to get some stuff from the house there. But Billy couldn’t be sure he’d be allowed to use the helicopter to save his friends, or how long it would take to get there. Either way, he knew he would try to save them, if he could, and give them hope until then.
Billy Allen thinks you will need those guns. Things won’t go back to normal any time soon. We can hope the cops and army keep control, but you need to take care of yourselves for now. If those zombies come after you guys, shoot them in the head. I’ll try to make sure we take the ship to Malibu and I know where Brad lives. But it will be at least a week or two until we get there. Until then we have satellite com until it gives out, so we can keep track of the news. You need to get together as many of our friends as you can and take care of each other. Justin and Beth are on the ship with me. We will not forget you guys. And yes we do have a helicopter. Hang in there and good luck.
Voyage of the Dead - Book One Sovereign Spirit Saga Page 4
