by Howard, Bob
It took a full day for Jed to catch up with the colony, and it took three more days for them to work their way back around to the other side of the Cooper River. Jed had already crossed the top of the Pinopolis Lock twice, once with Ben and once by himself. Each time had been unnerving because of the spiders. He was careful not to touch the railings for fear that he would get into a new web he didn’t see. When he led the rest of the colony across, he had passed the word down the line that everyone should do the same. He only hoped no one noticed how nervous it made him. Seeing the mass of bodies at the bottom of the lock was made worse by the spiders, but with the warm weather the experience was enhanced by the overpowering smell.
There were no complaints, though. The thought of a supply cache that contained weapons and food was a strong motivation, and the memory of the candy bar had everyone moving with purpose in their steps. After crossing the top of the Pinopolis Lock, they turned south and followed the west bank of the Cooper River toward their new home. Jed made sure he was up front when they arrived at the swaying old bridge, even though he had occasionally let the colony move out ahead of him. He was prone to doing head counts to be sure they hadn’t lost anyone, and he liked knowing everyone by name.
The last time they had all filed past him on the trail he had actually been surprised when he noticed how diverse the colony had become. A few years ago, they were almost all African Americans from the town of Cross. Now there were an equal number of blacks, whites, and Hispanics with a few Asians thrown in. They were from every small town in the area, and some were from other states. It was amazing the way they had all come to regard each other as family, and when they started calling themselves the ‘colony’ they had felt as if they truly were related. They also finally accepted Jed as the leader with no reservations. The only sadness he felt as he greeted each of them by name was the lack of children. There were only six in the entire colony. Everyone in the colony had experienced that awful loss, and the six children still alive had belonged to parents who didn’t survive. There was no shortage of adults willing to care for the children, but to say it was a family that had known pain would have been an understatement.
At the bridge he told Ella, one of his neighbors from the old days, to stop just inside the trees on the other side and wait for everyone else to cross. Then he had them cross one at a time to keep the swaying from dumping someone in the river. He pulled aside Terrance and Javon, a pair of cousins from St. Stephen, and told them he wanted them to help him pull together some large tree limbs to barricade the entrance of the bridge. Charles joined them, and they were able to gather some heavy logs to brace the branches. When they were done, they pulled the barricade into place behind them and crossed over to their new home.
Home it was. For the first time in years, they weren’t moving out the next day. It was almost sunset, and everyone was tired, but they marveled at how the outside world seemed to disappear. They couldn’t see across the river once they reached the center of the oxbow island, and they knew no one could see them. They posted watches just inside the trees at the edges of the forest, and it felt like a special occasion to have a campfire burning at night.
Jed put a couple of people in charge of the supplies. There were whispered praises to God as they checked the inventory and decided what would be in the first meal that was to be served from the MREs. It was a source of strength to know many of them still had their faith despite their losses.
Some of the men organized a work crew, and even though the light was beginning to fail they silently went about clearing the center of the island. The brush and small trees they removed were carried toward the outer perimeter of the island by anyone who wanted to help. By adding it to the already dense trees and undergrowth, they became even more invisible to anyone who might be watching from the banks of the river. The clearing grew, and the campfires were skillfully hidden behind new piles of dirt. In a little over an hour the colony took on the appearance of a permanent settlement.
Even Jed didn’t expect the biggest bonus of the night. As if they didn’t have enough to rejoice about, they had dug a fire pit right into a second cache of food and other survival gear buried only a few yards from the first one. It would take days to inventory the variety of canned goods and sealed military surplus meals. Tents were unpacked and erected in a circle around the clearing, and even though a light rain started to fall, there were only smiling faces in the colony.
A tent was pitched in the center of the clearing for Jed and the other recognized leaders to gather and make plans. As they tiredly sat down in a circle, some couldn’t resist stretching out on their blankets as if they were on a family camping trip. They kept their voices low, not wanting to forget that they would always be in danger, but the temptation to cheer was unbearable. Men and women taking their turns at feeding the colony came into the tent and passed out food. Rationing could begin later, but on this night everyone got a full meal as a reward for making the difficult trip. A woman came in and passed out candy bars for dessert.
Jed started the meeting of the leaders with his usual light hearted comment.
“I guess you’re wondering why I asked y’all to be here tonight.”
Good natured laughter was muted but widespread.
“Tonight we rest and mourn the loss of my oldest friend. Tomorrow we start over again in our new home. We’ll do the things we need to do to make this place even safer than it already is, but we need a longterm plan. We need to find out why the hordes are all moving toward Charleston. We need to find out what’s happening at Patriots Point and Fort Sumter.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
First Contact
All the soldiers knew for sure was that the three men were living, breathing people, and they were running toward their firing line with thousands of the infected building a wall of flesh behind them. As each soldier sighted in on that wall of flesh, they had the feeling that they couldn’t miss what they were aiming at. It was a target rich environment. They couldn’t miss hitting something, and even a bullet to the body of an infected dead up front was enough to cause a pile up. The bullets slammed into them and drove their bodies backward causing temporary chaos and giving the three desperate men a better chance to make their last sprint to safety. Of course it was a matter of pride for the Army sharpshooters to hit the infected between the eyes, and after the initial barrage they settled into a rhythm of firing and acquiring a new target that was almost as precise as a well directed orchestra. More and more infected were going down with headshots.
The three men were exhausted, and even though these weren’t their friends who had come to their rescue, they were alive. They could deal with being captured because it meant they would live awhile longer. From their point of view in front of the groaning horde, the distance between them and safety seemed to be miles, but before they knew it they were staggering through an opening between the soldiers. No one stopped firing until the order was given, and by that time the trembling trio of scouts had been escorted by medics who helped them climb aboard one of the helicopters.
The medics did what they would have done for anyone. As the soldiers withdrew from the firing line and boarded the aircraft, the medics were checking the vital signs of the men, and someone had wrapped them in blankets. As the helicopter lifted away from the ground, friendly faces surrounded them and welcomed them to safety. When they thought about it, they realized they should have expected nothing less, because in a different time they had been comrades in arms. As everyone quickly learned in the helicopter, the men were former soldiers as well.
That was one of the first things the Sergeant learned once he had been assured that everyone in his squad had boarded the helicopter unharmed. He had gotten a report over his radio that the other craft had completed its mission without casualties, and it was returning to the Ashley River Bridge to finish setting its charges. That meant they could detonate their explosive charges and watch to see if it caused the horde to turn toward it. The pilot increa
sed their altitude until they could see the bridge and the horde at the same time, and the Sergeant gave the word for them to transmit the signal that would hopefully take down the bridge while distracting the horde.
It was a spectacular sight. With no urge to see the bridge still intact after the explosion, they had used twice as many charges as they needed. There was no doubt that the bridge would be gone when the cloud disappeared. At the moment of the explosion all eyes turned toward the bridge, and the crew cheered with satisfaction. Their eyes stayed on the bridge as the smoke and debris settled, and a long gap appeared in the roadway over the river. It was doubtful that there would ever be a bridge over that part of the river again.
Hopeful eyes turned away from the bridge to the horde, and the crew saw something they had never seen before. The horde had come to a complete stop from shoulder to shoulder on the interstate. It was as if there was an invisible line across all eight lanes, and only the infected could see it. They stood behind that line and turned their heads in the direction of the great cloud of debris that rose above the trees in the direction of the Ashley River.
“Come on. What are they waiting for?” asked the Sergeant to no one in particular.
The helicopter was hovering high enough not to distract the infected from the explosion, but gradually the heads of the infected began to turn back toward the road ahead of them. One by one they moved forward as if the explosion had not happened, and within a few minutes it was obvious that none of them were going to go in that direction. Any hope the crew had that the horde would march into the Ashley River was gone.
The Sergeant asked the pilot to radio in and inform Fort Sumter of the bad news and to make them aware that they had three guests on board. The pilot acknowledged the request, and the Sergeant turned to the three tired men.
“Where are you from, and can we give you a lift?”
The Sergeant had been too busy to find out who the men were up until that moment, but he wasn’t so busy that he missed their hesitation. He also didn’t miss the look they all exchanged before one of them spoke up.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Sergeant, so I might as well tell you,” said one of the men. “We’re from Patriots Point.”
The Sergeant was disappointed by his own lack of judgement when they had landed to rescue the men. If he had followed protocol, he would have had the men searched for bite marks and weapons. There had been enough time. As the one who had spoken to him slid his hand out from under the blanket, the Sergeant saw he had plenty of reason to be disappointed. The man had a grenade in his hand, and the pin had been pulled from the handle.
“No need to panic, Sergeant. All we need is a ride home. You can leave as soon as you drop us off.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
The Sergeant tried to act natural just in case any of his men saw what was happening and tried to intervene.
“No, but you have my word. Now, just let the pilot know that he can land on the deck of the Yorktown.”
The pilots preferred that communications took place through the radio headsets, so they were surprised when Sergeant Graham squeezed into the flight deck, but they knew by the grim expression on his face that there was a problem. He only spoke loud enough to be heard as he explained the predicament they were in, and they understood why he didn’t use the comm system. One of them gave him a nod when he was done, and he knew they would make Fort Sumter aware of the situation.
******
Captain Miller and the Chief were both summoned as soon as the call came in, and they knew they only had a few minutes before the helicopter reached its destination, but as they soon learned it wouldn’t have mattered if they had an hour. There was nothing they could do to stop the helicopter from being hijacked. The best they could think of was that Sergeant Graham should tell the people at Patriots Point that they were under orders to bring the men back to the Yorktown as a gesture of good will. It was doubtful that they would buy it, but it was the only thing they could try. Even with over twenty men and crew on the helicopter, there was no way to overpower someone who was holding a grenade. They sent the message to the pilot and wished them all good luck.
On board the Navy VH92A Sergeant Graham made an announcement to the soldiers and had everyone stow their weapons. He stayed as calm as possible and assured them that he was acting on direct orders from Captain Miller. There was a little grumbling at first, but he stared down the soldiers who had something to say.
“Everyone listen up. You might take someone out, but you can’t do that and put a pin back into a grenade. Besides, even before we rescued these gentlemen from certain death, we were under orders to deliver them to their own people, whoever they were. Captain Miller gave those orders, and now he has given new orders in light of the danger to everyone in this aircraft. Anyone have a problem with that?”
Sergeant Graham locked eyes with the man holding the grenade and hoped the man paid attention, especially to the part about saving their lives.
“Can we get the frequency and call sign for your people so they don’t shoot us down when we land at your base?”
“That would be a really good idea, Sarge.”
He nodded at one of his men who immediately went to the flight deck to give instructions to the pilot. He stayed where he was over the pilot’s shoulder and watched as they quickly descended toward the Yorktown. The landing was as smooth as an elevator coming to a stop, and the crew opened the doors immediately, obviously having been ordered to do so.
It was a bad moment for Captain Miller, the Chief, and everyone else who gathered in front of the monitor that displayed a close up view of the deck of the Yorktown. Knowing he would have to see his men file out of the helicopter with their hands behind their heads made Captain Miller furious. They had been with him for years, and they felt like family to him.
The Chief wasn’t used to the helplessness he felt. As a matter of fact, the last time he had felt this way was when Allison had died. He felt responsible for her death even to this day. If you asked him why, he would say that the infected dead under the steps should have bitten him, or that he should have seen it in time to keep Allison from being bitten. Either way, no one could convince him it hadn’t been his fault. Now, he was second guessing their decision to rescue the three men.
Both of them were so busy being angry and blaming themselves that they didn’t see Kathy standing only a few feet away with her arms crossed.
“When you two get done feeling sorry for what happened, let’s start working on a plan to get them out of there. We still have a lot of firepower and some very well trained people just waiting for your orders.”
They glared at her, but they knew she was right.
“Sorry, guys. I know you needed to get that out, and no one expected you to feel good about it. It was a rescue mission. Anyone would have done the same thing if they had any decency. We just need to learn from the mistake and figure out how we’re going to crack open that oyster over there. If playing nice doesn’t work, we need to make them pay the price.”
“Good speech,” said the Chief.
Captain Miller nodded his agreement.
“What would your SEAL training recommend for this kind of operation?”
“We have all kinds of options, Jim. We can go in underwater or by force, but they will expect one of those. I don’t think they’ll expect a night parachute rescue.”
“Do we have parachutes?” asked Tom.
“Already on it,” said the Chief.
He got the attention of the soldier who was manning the radio and took the liberty of telling her to contact the helicopter that had gone to the Ashley River Bridge and tell them to detour to the Air Force Base and find some parachutes.
The explosion that rocked the Yorktown wasn’t large enough to be heard or felt at Fort Sumter, but it came as such an unexpected surprise that the Chief and Captain Miller both reacted as if it had happened nearby. When their minds connected the dots between the flas
h of light and the billowing smoke that was swirling in the wind from the helicopter rotors, they understood that their well trained soldiers had taken matters into their own hands.
It was difficult to tell what was happening because they hadn’t seen what had happened in the moments before the blast. They didn’t know who was where, and they realized they had taken their eyes from the screen in front of them long enough for anything to have changed.
The helicopter was lifting away from the deck, and someone was firing small arms from the open door. As a matter of fact, there was a withering barrage of rifle fire pouring from the aircraft onto the deck of the Yorktown. From what they could see, there were no shots being fired from the ship toward the helicopter.
The VH92A seemed to lean over toward its right side as it lifted away from the carrier deck, and the angle increased as the helicopter banked so hard to starboard that it appeared to be out of control.
The Chief felt Kathy frantically squeeze his arm from behind as she tried to see what was happening, and he obliged her by letting her get in front of him. She got there just in time to have the same reaction as the two men as each of them was sure the helicopter was going to lose its rotors when they passed within inches of the safety lines that had been installed around the flight deck. The safety lines flew away from the whirling blades, and the helicopter fell over the edge of the ship toward the water over eighty feet below.
Anyone who was watching on television when the second plane hit the World Trade Center would say they thought everything was moving in slow motion. The same could be said about watching the helicopter making that fall. The trio watching from the control room in Fort Sumter was silent, and none of them were breathing. Then their eyes grew wider.
