by Howard, Bob
The exit for Remount Road was right behind him, and Jed decided that would be the best place for him to begin working his way to the east. If he could find a road that was free of the infected, he would try to turn toward Charleston again, but if he couldn’t, at least he could find a boat that would get him across the Cooper River where the horde had to be thinner.
That was what he assumed, but he was worried that there was a flaw in his own thinking. He was hoping that the years had been plenty of time for the population of infected to have dwindled on the Mt. Pleasant side of the Cooper River. His reasoning was based on geography. There was the Francis Marion Forest on one side, the Atlantic Ocean on another side, and the Cooper River on the other. There were plenty of living people in between those geographical barriers when the infection began, but as the infected were eliminated there wouldn’t be a steady supply of replacements.
“If I’m wrong, I guess I’ll find out,” he said to Mattie as if she had been part of his mental conversation. She wrinkled her nose at him because she knew he was teasing her, but she didn’t know how.
It didn’t take long to reach the Remount Road exit, but he saw immediately that there was no way he was going to use Rivers Avenue to reach Charleston. It ran parallel to the interstate all the way to the city, but it was littered with bodies just like the interstate had been. He worked his way down Rivers for a few blocks, stepping over bodies that weren’t moving while examining them for the head wounds he thought he would find. Strangely, there were none, but what he learned was that the overflow from the main horde had used Rivers Avenue to get around the logjam created by all of the infected that had been shot. That was bad luck for him because it wouldn’t be long before he caught up with the infected that could still walk. His only choice was to find a way to cross the Cooper River.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Loyalties
Contagion Extinction Level - Day Thirty
The routine alone was almost enough to drive Phillip Corrigan insane. Denise had found it easier to cope with the boredom, and she had kept reminding Phillip that they could have wound up getting stuck in any number of places less hospitable. At least they were safe while they were bored.
They weren’t given much in the way of information, but what they managed to learn from listening in on conversations and from the few people they had a chance to talk with, the strategy of whoever was in charge of the Yorktown was for the ship to appear to be unoccupied. It had been sealed up so tight that no one would know there were survivors on board. Not so much as a single lightbulb could be seen from the outside. No sounds were generated inside that could be heard above deck, and it would remain like that for a month.
During that time they were allowed to go to the dining area and their cabin but nowhere else. When they needed more books, they told Ted Atwater in advance, and he managed to get the ones from popular authors. A month is a long time, but they were safe.
The ban on movement was lifted at the end of the month, as promised. They learned the good news when they went to breakfast. They got their trays and stood in line as they had been doing for a month. There was a menu board by the silverware, and this morning it had an announcement in bold letters that said, “CEL Day Plus 30. You are now free to move about the ship.”
Over breakfast there was excited chatter at the tables as people talked among their groups about what they planned to do. The general preference was to tour the ship. People wanted to see anything except the insides of their cabins, and it was no surprise to find there were crowds everywhere.
On busy days before CEL Day the Yorktown was jammed with tourists, and on the first day they were allowed to explore the ship, it was just like the tourists had returned. One other thing was the same as it used to be. There were signs that said there was no admittance allowed beyond some of the closed doors. Ropes were draped between poles with signs hung on them that said RESTRICTED AREA, but the serious looking armed guards by the doors made the signs unnecessary.
“I feel like a tourist,” whispered Denise. “Do you think we’re going to be allowed to see anything worth seeing?”
“That would be defined as anything except our rooms.”
“What about tomorrow? Once we see everything today, are we going to keep looking at everything until we get as tired of it as we are our rooms?”
“What’re you getting at?”
Denise leaned in closer, and for effect she gave her husband a smile that others might interpret as affectionate.
“This is a big ship. There has to be a way to get past the guards into some of the places not meant for everyone. I have an idea. Just follow my lead.”
Denise casually walked a few steps faster and fell into line behind a small group of people who were obviously part of the establishment. She didn’t know what they did on the ship, but they were dressed like they worked in a hospital or some kind of lab. They were all wearing white lab coats over a mixture of civilian clothes and uniforms. The main thing about them was that they were part of a group, and they were leaving the main concourse through one of the doors that was guarded. The guard stepped aside as they approached and held the door open for them.
The natural way Denise smiled into the face of the guard as she thanked him caused the man to do what he had been taught to do his whole life. He returned her smile and wished her a good day. Phillip almost made it. The guard on the other side of the door caught him by the elbow.
“Sorry, Sir. This is a restricted area.”
If Denise had kept going, she would have made it into the stairwell with the rest of the group, but she glanced back over her shoulder, and the light behind her made her visible to the man standing behind Phillip.
Marshall Sayer had his eye on the Corrigans from the start. They fit the profile that he needed. No children or immediate family ties, good careers, intelligence, and recommended by Dr. Grace Williams. Sayer had visited her to ask why she had adopted the Corrigans in place of the local agent who had helped them with logistics at the municipal center. Dr. Williams had explained that they were a natural fit for them to use on a special project. When she explained why, he had decided to see for himself, but he waited until the end of the mandatory month of tedium. If he drove them a little crazy with boredom, it might soften them up when he offered them some excitement down the road.
“Denise, Phillip. We’re going this way.”
Sayer held one hand out to indicate which way they were going as if the Corrigans were making a wrong turn. Denise stepped back through the door and apologized to everyone. If she and Phillip were confused about who the man was, they didn’t show it. The important thing was that he knew them, and the guards had snapped to attention at his appearance.
Marshall liked the way she kept her cool, and he saw what Dr. Williams had meant.
They knew they were caught, but they didn’t try to offer an explanation to the man for making a wrong turn through a door that was clearly off limits. They exchanged smiles and walked away with him as if they were old friends.
That was what he liked most about them. He saw that they recovered quickly even when they didn’t know who he was. This was a time to take advantage of the situation and to gain their confidence.
“Are you enjoying your freedom today? I imagine the routine over the last month left much to be desired.”
“It was boring,” said Denise, “but you aren’t going to hear any complaints out of us.”
Phillip added, “I’ll second that. We’re grateful for the hospitality. You didn’t have to take us in, and I’m sure there were people out there who would be glad to trade places with us.”
“There’s something I think you should see. Let’s go topside for a bit. I imagine you could use some fresh air.”
“Topside,” said Denise. “I’ve forgotten what the sun looks like.”
Marshall led the way to a staircase that was guarded, but the man removed the barrier chain and held it aside for them.
“I sho
uld warn you. There are still visible scars on the city. It was a bad first day, and it didn’t get any better over the first few weeks. It’s going to be a long time before people live in Charleston again.”
They came to a steel door at the top of the staircase, and Marshall paused for dramatic effect. He pulled the big lever that unlocked the door and swung it out of the way. Bright sunlight flooded the landing, and the Corrigans had to shield their eyes. He held out a hand to Denise and helped her to step over the sill.
The smell of saltwater assaulted them, but there was another smell. Things had burned, and a month wasn’t enough time for the weather to wash away the stain of that first week. The seagulls surprised them both. There were more seagulls than they had ever seen anywhere, and they were feeding on an endless supply of twisted heaps on every visible piece of shoreline around the harbor. The heaps were everywhere, and even though they were unrecognizable, there was no mistaking what they were. The smell of rot washed across them with the next breeze and it easily masked the other smells. Denise gagged, and Marshall was quick to produce a handkerchief.
“I’m sorry, Denise. Are you okay?”
Denise had one hand over her mouth and one hand held her stomach where a cramp had made her double over. She took her hand away from her face and tried hard to reassure Marshall and Phillip.
“I’m fine. I want to see.”
There was a bitter taste at the back of her throat, but she really did want to see. As a survivor, it was her duty to witness for those who didn’t survive.
With a little help from her husband and the handkerchief over her mouth and nose, they walked across the flight deck of the old aircraft carrier. A safety railing had been added for tourists, and Denise was grateful to have it there. She leaned heavily on the top rail and stared with wide eyes across the harbor toward Charleston.
She didn’t know where to start. Her eyes were drawn toward each anomaly as if it was the main thing. There were so many bodies. Even from a distance she could tell they were piled deep across the granite boulders of the battery.
The cruise ship terminal had been where a horde of infected had attempted to reach the frightened passengers who were trying to board their ship. The infected had fallen over the side of the dock by the hundreds, and the tides hadn’t been able to wash away their bodies.
They could see the small island in the Cooper River that sat halfway between the carrier and Charleston, and even from a distance they could see the blue crabs scurrying from one victim to the next. They were normally a favorite meal of the seagulls, but today the birds and crabs dined together.
“I’ll never eat crab dip again,” said Phillip.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” said Marshall. “Our preliminary test results indicate the infection can be passed along by the crabs. The shrimp are most likely contaminated too, as well as anything that eats shrimp.”
“The city,” said Denise. “It was so beautiful. So many of the buildings are burned.”
“We estimate sixty percent of the historic section suffered damage. On the first day the firemen who responded to the fires were among the first to die. They were attacked by the infected, and as they died they turned on their fellow first responders. The bravest among us ran straight toward their own deaths, and within hours no one was putting out the fires.”
As he described the first day, he pointed at the landmarks. The bodies on the small island were the people who had gone into the water from both sides of the river and reached Castle Pinckney. He explained that the tourists at Patriots Point were jumping from the deck of the carrier and from the docks in the marina. Boats were everywhere in the harbor, but there weren’t enough to pick up all of the people in the water. There was also the problem of the people who had been bitten. He described the way some people tried to help others, only to be bitten by people they pulled into their boats.
“Did anyone else survive?” asked Phillip.
“There was a cruise ship right over there.”
Marshall pointed at the cruise ship terminal.
“I saw it leave, and it looked like it was full. It cruised out of here with about five thousand people on board. We heard they didn’t get far. There were reports that the infection broke out on the ship after they were at sea, and everyone was lost.”
The Corrigans stood shoulder to shoulder and silently surveyed the changed city. Smoke still drifted from small fires in the downtown area, and despite the fact that there were bodies everywhere, it was the sight of so many infected walking around in plain view that stunned them the most. The Battery at White Point Gardens was as populated as it would have been on a summer day at the height of tourist season, but those weren’t tourists. No traffic moved, but there were so many abandoned vehicles along the street that bordered the water that it resembled a typical traffic jam.
Marshall continued his description of that first day.
“When the cruise ship left the dock, the harbor was literally jammed with small boats. Everyone who could get into a boat tried to, even if it wasn’t theirs. People were shooting each other to either protect their boats or to steal someone else’s.”
He pointed at Fort Sumter and told them the chaos that followed when the cruise ship had gone by the Civil War fort. People shot at the passengers for no reason other than the fact that they were escaping with their lives.
“Hundreds of boats made it to Fort Sumter, but it wasn’t the best place to go. The first people to arrive there decided the fort belonged to them. They didn’t want to allow anyone else to join them because the boats were carrying victims with bite marks. So, they shot whole boat loads of new arrivals. Even the kids. Judging by everything else that happened on the first day, there were undoubtedly bite victims inside already, and they were doing as much of the shooting as anyone else.”
“Is that why you didn’t let more people in?” asked Denise.
The question was blunt, and there was an edge to her voice that asked if he thought he was any better than the people at Fort Sumter.
“We work for the government,” he said, “so we had some advance information about the infection. Not much more time than everyone else, but enough. We had been studying an infection that was carried back to the US from South America by a researcher, and it was surprising that we got as much warning as we did. The infection he carried was so bad that every test showed a one hundred percent mortality rate. If it had spread as fast as we expected, we wouldn’t have been able to save as many people as we did. Now we have to stop it from killing the rest of the world. That’s why we’re here. As for letting more people in, we did what we could.”
Phillip reacted as if he had been reminded of something.
“By the rest of the world, are you saying this is just happening in the United States? I’ve been asking the guards for periodicals. We haven’t seen a newspaper or magazine in a month, and you know as well as anyone that there’s no cell service. That quit a long time ago. It would be great to see the internet again.”
Marshall shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I should’ve chosen my words better. What I should’ve said was that we have to stop the infection from killing everyone left in the world, but this has happened everywhere. Not a single city in the world was spared. Billions have died, and the rest of humanity is clinging to little places like the Yorktown and Fort Sumter.”
Denise was startled but hopeful at the same time. “There are still survivors at Fort Sumter? We should help them.”
Phillip was in agreement with Denise as soon as she said it. “We need to contact them. Find out how many people they have over there. Do they have medicine or food? How hard would it be to get there?”
Marshal showed extraordinary patience with the Corrigans. From what he could see, they were exactly as Dr. Williams had described. His friends in the intelligence services had talked about how they recruited couples to be spies, and it was a long process. It often took years of grooming before sending them on a mission,
and time was something they had in large supply. He could work with their empathy and sense of what was right. If they weren’t good people with a sense of right and wrong, they wouldn’t be what he needed.
A flock of seagulls swirled around them, and they ducked with their hands over their heads. An air horn blasted the deck of the ship. The seagulls scattered in all directions and flew into each other in panic, but they were scared away.
“We have people in the control tower whenever someone comes up on deck. We have to keep the seagulls away from them because they’ve been eating the infected dead, and we don’t know if they can transmit the infection to the living. The air horn was the best idea we could come up with to keep them away. Are you ready to go back in?”
“No,” said Denise. “I want to know more. What’s going to happen to us?”
Marshall Sayer was the consummate salesman, and he knew better than to jump right on the opportunity that was in front of him. He had to work carefully to close the deal, and he didn’t want to lose the Corrigans by being over anxious. He lowered his eyes for dramatic effect and paused before he answered.
“What is it?” asked Phillip. “We’re going to be allowed to stay, aren’t we?”
That was exactly the worry Marshall had hoped would cross their minds. It didn’t need to exist for long, but if it crossed their minds at all, it would make them receptive to the alternatives.
“I don’t see why not,” said Marshall. “I can tell I can count on you, and I might have an important job for you at a future date.”
