by Lundy, W. J.
Their arrogance, or lack of respect for other survivors, caused them to ignore the fact that they themselves may become targets of a greater predator. Sean’s plan to take them by surprise while they slept, while their guard was down, had worked. Only a small crew had been able to escape. This group would be stronger now, and better able to defend themselves against primals or raiders.
“Not much for talking right now, are ya,” Chelsea said.
“I’m just taking it all in. Sometimes … if you try really hard, you can imagine things the way they used to be.” Brad sighed, squeezing her hand and watching the waves roll up and splash on the beach where hours earlier the raider bodies had been stacked.
Chelsea nodded, then spoke, changing the subject. “Kelli is doing well. She took to the antibiotics you found. The doctor says her leg is mending great and she should be walking soon. It will never be the same though, she will probably need a cane from now on. He says he would recommend surgery if a place existed today.”
“She’s a tough girl. Any word on Hahn?”
Chelsea let out a small laugh, “Some. Mrs. Murphy says he has fallen for that nurse, the one from the factory.”
“Sara?” Brad asked in a surprised voice.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Jeremiah and Parker traveled to the factory and offered to bring him to the farm. He said he didn’t want to leave, he said he needed to stay closer to the doctor,” Chelsea laughed again. “Alex told me that Sara hasn’t left his side, and he has gotten very protective of her and the others at the factory.”
Brad laughed, “Figures, even missing an arm Hahn is a badass and pulls the ladies.”
They sat, quietly watching the people on the beach. Sean was talking to a group of the recently liberated men. With Joseph and Parker’s help they were instructing them how to load and clear the C7 assault rifles. The civilians had taken to the training, excited to be able to protect their own. Brad watched as they went through firing positions and basic drills. Joseph was out front, shouting orders like a seasoned drill sergeant.
“How is Joey doing? I mean about his brother?” Brad asked.
Chelsea looked down for a moment. “He doesn’t talk about it to me. I overheard him speaking to Gunner. He said it was his fault … if they hadn’t led the group back to the cabin. If they had waited and walked in like Sean told them to. The cabin never would have been attacked, they never would have been out searching for you all, and Daniel never would have been hurt.
“You know that he isn’t right, he’s angry, he might even be a little crazy. I think he’s going to snap, and when he does someone is going to get hurt.”
“We all have our ghosts, Chelsea., I don’t think we can count anyone out right now,” Brad said.
“That’s what Gunner said. He knows them all better than anyone, I guess.”
“Why isn’t Gunner here now?” Brad asked.
“Oh, he wanted to go, he was really pissed off that we kept him at the farm. Mrs. Murphy wouldn’t hear it though, she said he needs to stay put until that shoulder heals.”
“Damn, I’d have liked to see that one,” Brad laughed before leaning back into the bench, stretching his legs to be warmed in the welcome sun.
“You know we could stay here,” she whispered, changing the subject. “Things are getting better, they would welcome our help.”
Brad didn’t say anything. He liked the idea, but couldn’t get the thought of his stranded men out of his head. They were counting on him to bring them home. As long as he still had the means, he would continue his mission. He didn’t know how his men in the desert were getting by, or if they were even still alive. It really didn’t matter to him. He’d made a promise and he intended to keep it. There were times when he wanted to quit and give up, but it was the quiet moments like this that gave him the energy to continue.
Chelsea put her head on Brad’s shoulder and closed her eyes. They sat quietly on the bench, blocking out the movement around them. Trying to pretend things were normal for a while. They stayed on the bench until the dinner fires had been lit. Children came to them and asked that they join the families. Brad smiled and let a small boy pull him to his feet. He then turned and held Chelsea’s hand as she walked beside him.
Walking to the fire pit, they heard the small boat’s horn. Brad turned to see Sean waving and calling him to the pier. Brooks and the rest of the team were with him. Brad let out a long sigh. “Well, so much for that,” he said. “Maybe I could just ignore them.”
“Yeah right, we know that isn’t going to happen,” Chelsea said, turning and pulling Brad towards the pier.
Epilogue.
Days and nights were spent preparing the Coast Guard ship for voyage. Unlike most military vessels, they found this one to be an unarmed fishery research vessel. Sean was somewhat disappointed by the discovery. He was hoping for a well-armed surface ship that they could take to the shores of the United States. Still, this craft was filled with high tech equipment that would come in very handy once they figured out how to use it.
The ship was the perfect size for their crew, and it came equipped with its own Zodiac. At barely twenty-five meters, it was short and fat, resembling a tug boat more than a military craft. Brooks had quickly taken on the assignment of getting the ship ready for its maiden voyage. As on their last maritime adventure, Brooks quickly leveraged the expertise of Nelson and Chelsea to help with the ship’s systems. Jonathon had kept his word, and they worked quickly to make sure the ship was loaded with food and fuel.
Kelli and Gunner joined them at the village. Kelli’s expertise as a pilot and naval officer had paid off well in using many of the ship’s navigation instruments. She readily took on the position of captain, eager to earn a place back on the crew. Gunner’s shoulder continued to plague him but was healing. He had to keep it in a sling, and had lost a great deal of range of motion from the gunshot wound. Even with all of that, Gunner refused to take a back seat to Sean. Together the two had become a formidable team.
Hahn never joined them at the beach. Brad had made several visits to the factory to speak with him, but he had lost his passion for the fight and the return home. He had found something new with the people at the factory and in the woman, Sara. He had asked Gunner’s permission to stay behind, and Gunner granted his request. Gunner explained that their mission was entirely voluntary. He wouldn’t ask anyone to go along with them unless they were committed to the goal.
The ship sailed early on the fourth morning, setting a course for the eastern coast of the United States. None of them were familiar with the waters, and even after extensive lectures and hearing countless stories from the sailors at the village they still felt unprepared. The winter weather had come in and the seas were as rough as you would expect for the season. Most of the crew had little experience on seagoing vessels and found themselves sick as soon as they hit open water.
Kelli, Brooks, Sean, and Gunner were all experienced sailors, but the rest of them had a hard time in the rough seas. Brad found himself spending most of his time on the bow of the ship trying to let the cool sea air calm his stomach and ease his headaches. The waters raged and slapped the sides of the ship. When Brad had first seen it in the cove, he’d thought it was huge, but now in the endless ocean it felt like a toy being tossed about in the large waves.
They maintained a constant radio watch, broadcasting several times an hour. No word was received. At one time they picked up an automated broadcast from a far-off tower near Halifax. Instead of a welcome, it was a warning to stay away from their shores. All were dead, and there would be no rescue. They continued to try. Kelli had figured out some of the research equipment and managed to boost the radio’s reception capabilities, but they still garnered no response.
As they neared the shores of Massachusetts, they picked up radar anomalies. Unknown objects in the water. Kelli approached close enough to one of them to be able to see it through binoculars. A small tanker ship, drifting dead. The ‘Yellow Jack’ –
the plague flag – was flying high off its mast, providing a warning for others not to approach. Kelli steered clear of the ghost ship and continued their course towards Boston.
On the morning of the fourth day they caught sight of the Brewster Islands off the coast of Boston. Kelli brought the ship in close, holding out hope that survivors may have sought refuge there. They cruised slow and close to the islands, blowing the ship’s horn and making calls on the radio. There were no signs of life. The ship continued on into the greater harbor. They hoped to hear sirens, or even gunshots, but they found nothing but a cold and quiet skyline.
They kept the ship far off shore, using the scopes and radars to search. At night they used the spotlights to signal to survivors. They received no signals back, no manmade lights; instead the shorelines were filled with primals howling and screaming at the light. Thousands of them flocked to the shores, their moans and screams filling the night air. The sounds terrified and discouraged them. How could they ever leave the ship and go ashore?
They pulled anchor at first light and carefully navigated their way out of the harbor. They moved south, hugging the coastline, passing Cape Cod and around the island of Nantucket. Every time they stopped and moved towards shore to sound their horn they were greeted by the primals. They sailed west towards New York, growing desperate, knowing they didn’t have indefinite stores of fuel, yet wanting to find a safe port. As they passed the Hamptons they saw signs of burnt homes and destroyed cottages.
They dropped anchor off the coast of a State Park, preserving fuel and using their radios to continue to call for help. The ship when topped off had enough for fourteen days; as they approached the halfway point their goals began to change. Instead of finding safe harbor, they began to search for sources of fuel. They debated taking the Zodiac to do an inland patrol, to search for survivors, or even find small ships they could board and salvage, but in the end it was decided it would be too dangerous.
The next morning they patrolled closer to New York and around Breezy Point. Kelli again cut the engines and let the ship drift the entire afternoon. By late day they had come close, within easy view of Brighton Beach. Brad had traveled to Coney Island with his family as a boy. He recognized some of the familiar sights. The boardwalk was empty of pedestrians; the attractions and rides stood idle. They used binoculars to scan the long sandy beach, finding it completely void of life.
A number of boats were tied to the pier. Kellie let them drift closer before powering up the engines and slowly maneuvering near the moored vessels. As they patrolled in, they saw the primals emerge from the shadows. Quickly they rushed the boardwalk and filled the beach. Within minutes the pier itself was crammed with the screaming and moaning crazies. The sounds filled the air and easily drowned out the rumble of the ship’s engines. Gunner ordered Kelli to turn them around and head southeast into open waters.
Brad moved below decks as the ship traveled away from New York. The boat was small and only designed for a permanent crew of six, although there was plenty of room for their current crew of nine. They paired up, sharing the four berthing compartments. Since Kelli and Chelsea were the only females, and Kelli the only officer, they took the captain’s berthing. Brad had seen enough for one day, and moved into the ship’s small mess area.
He moved through the dining room and into the galley, finding a large pot of coffee. He put his hand to the metal skin to find it was barely warm. Still, coffee wasn’t something to be thrown out these days, so he poured himself a cup and moved towards a far seat at the countertop. He had finally gotten over his sea sickness. It helped that the waters had calmed as they moved farther south. The lights were off in the galley. Many of the ship’s non-essential breakers had been cut to conserve power, especially while they drifted.
Brad sat watching through a porthole window. He could barely see the tan and greens of the far away coastline. He didn’t enjoy sailing, but had to admit it was nice enjoying the comforts of a floating hotel. Even though far from luxurious, the accommodations of a water plant and hot showers were better than humping it out on shore. Brad heard a noise and looked behind him to see Brooks enter the galley.
Brooks poured himself a cup of coffee and made a scowl as he sipped the cold liquid. “Kelli cut the power to the galley again I see,” Brooks muttered as he moved across the room and took a seat next to Brad.
“Cold coffee beats no coffee,” Brad said. “Anything new up top?”
Brooks took another sip of his coffee then got up to dig through the cupboards, finding a tin of crackers. He opened the container and grabbed a handful, then offered the can to Brad. “Nelson thinks he may have heard a ping on some of the sonar equipment.”
“Ping? What, like from another ship?” Brad asked.
Brooks chewed the crackers and took another gulp of the cold coffee. “Yeah I guess, who knows if the kid even knows how to work that shit. He says he made an active sonar, he’s been running it day and night. So much scientific gear in that lab to mess with. The little geek likes to tinker though, I’ll give him that.”
“Whatever keeps him out of trouble,” Brad joked.
Brooks finished his coffee and moved out of the galley. Brad really had nothing to do as they moved into warmer waters. He decided to make his way to the back deck of the vessel. He walked onto the open deck in time to see Chelsea moving towards the rail with a fishing pole. Some of the crew had taken up fishing as the boat slowly crawled to the south. Sean had beginner’s luck, but the rest of them had struck out. Brad took a seat near a bundle of supplies and watched Chelsea cast the line far to the side of the ship and slowly reel it back in.
The weather had turned favorable as they moved down the East Coast. Brad lay back and let the bright sunlight warm him, using his hat to cover his eyes while he rested. Fading in and out of sleep, Brad was startled by the slamming of a hatch behind him. Nelson was yelling and running to the ladder that led towards the upper decks. Brad lifted his head and sat up. Chelsea had pulled in the line and dropped the pole behind the rail, moving in the direction of the ladder.
“What did he say?” Brad asked Chelsea.
Chelsea gave him an excited look. “He said we’re being pinged,” she shouted as she grabbed the ladder and climbed to the top.
Brad tiredly climbed to his feet and walked to the side rail of the ship. They were traveling slowly now, under five knots. The blue waters slapped at the side as the ship cut through the swells. Brad heard the engines cut again as Kelli powered down and allowed the boat to drift. He could hear them talking excitedly on the top decks. Brad looked towards the distant shore miles away. They were void of city skylines now, just open greens cut by sandy cliffs.
He looked down at the calm blue waters. Occasionally a sea bird would fly overhead, circling the boat before landing in the swells alongside. Brad climbed the ladder to the upper decks. He avoided the chaos in the control room and headed directly to the bow. He could still hear them shouting behind him. Brad leaned over the bow and watched the water. Suddenly the team behind him grew quiet. Brad could hear the rapid beeping coming over a speaker in the control room as Kelli tuned in the ping.
Brad turned to see the crew gathered around a console, staring at it intently. Brad heard a loud breaking of water behind him. He turned to see the ocean surface turn to foam far off the bow. Quickly the black hulk of a submarine’s sail came vertically straight out of the blue water, white foam rolling off its sides. Brad stepped back in shock as the rest of the large submarine, at least a hundred meters long, came into view. He stumbled forward and placed both hands on the bow rail as the rest of the crew rushed forward and joined him.
They watched as the submarine floated silently hundreds of meters off of their bow. He could hear Kelli shouting behind him, calling them on the radio, flipping channels and hailing over and over with no response. Brad watched as men in yellow and orange jackets came into view atop the sail. Chelsea moved beside him and placed her hand on his. The men on the sail moved ba
ck and forth before hoisting a British flag atop a tall mast.
Thank You for Reading
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Walking In the Shadow of Death.
Lundy W. J. (2014-05-01).
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot: Volume IV
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W. J. Lundy is a still serving Veteran of the U.S. Military with service in Afghanistan. He has over 14 years of combined service with the Army and Navy in Europe, the Balkans and Southwest Asia. Visit him on Facebook for more.
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