He kicked at the three ghouls’ hands trying to dislodge their fingers from the ankles that they clenched with grips of iron in front of them.
He knew the three ghouls were dead because his MP7’s bullets had shattered their heads and pulverized their reanimated brains as seawater lapped over them. Still, try as he might, he could not pry their fingers away from the zombie ankles in front of them.
Seething with pent-up frustration he trained his MP7 on the fingers and emptied his clip into them. The rounds plowed into the fingers, shattering the bones of the digits and splitting them in half. It was only then that the fingers lost their grips.
Bullets from Jones’s men flying all around him, Halverson managed to pick up on a female fortysomething ghoul shambling toward him. Its mouth open, its broken green teeth exposed, a black beret canted on its short brown hair, the creature lurched at him.
Halverson charged his MP7 at the creature and squeezed the trigger. His gun clicked empty. He cursed.
He reversed the gun in his hands and slammed its butt into the creature’s head. He hammered the creature’s head again and again until its beret fell off and the creature collapsed on the bridge.
Halverson gazed across the width of the bridge and realized it would take him hours to cut through all of the clutching fingers that held the bridge together. He didn’t have hours. He didn’t have minutes. The creatures were already closing in on him, plodding toward him relentlessly.
Another ghoul in the onslaught reached for Halverson’s head. At the last minute, Halverson glimpsed the ghoul’s hand out of the corner of his eye and took a swipe at it with his MP7, deflecting the hand. He ducked away, peeled off toward the edge of the bridge, and dove into the ocean.
The shock of the cold water coursed through his body.
He found it difficult to swim because of his bandoleers, which were interfering with his strokes. He shrugged off the bandoleers and kept swimming.
He swam toward the Zodiac, which Jones was pulling away from the bridge in an attempt to prevent the ghouls from boarding. Or was Jones planning on abandoning him? Halverson wondered. He did not trust Jones. But the way Halverson saw it, Jones still needed him because they hadn’t stopped the ghouls from building their bridge. Invasion of Alcatraz was imminent.
Two of the ghouls shuffled off the bridge into the ocean in their pursuit of Halverson and sank out of view.
Halverson swam for all he was worth through the frigid waters of the bay toward the Zodiac. He knew he had about twenty minutes before hypothermia set in. He planned to be onboard well before then.
In fact, Reno was already reaching down to him over the side of the Zodiac and hauling him out of the ocean and onto the boat with the help of Dr. Parnell.
Shivering, dripping with water, Halverson plopped down onto the boat’s floor.
“What did we tell you?” said Reno. “You never had a chance.”
“What went wrong?” Jones asked Halverson.
Halverson gasped for breath, still shivering. “Even after I killed the ghouls in the bridge, they held onto the ghouls in front of them.”
“A frigging death grip,” said Tattoo Head.
“You have to literally cut their fingers off to get them to release their hold,” said Halverson, teeth chattering, face blue.
“It must be the rigor mortis,” said Parnell, trying to find a blanket or something on the boat to cover Halverson with. “As soon as the infected die, rigor mortis sets in.”
“That quickly?” said Tattoo Head.
“You forget,” said Reno. “They’re already dead to begin with. The only part of them that’s alive is their reanimated brains.”
Chapter 67
“There’s no sense in staying here,” said Jones. “We can’t stop them building the bridge.”
“For every one we kill a hundred take its place,” said Reno.
“Our only chance now is to cut them down as they try to invade the island.”
Jones signaled to the remaining Zodiac then accelerated and headed back to Alcatraz through the banks of fog that skated across the ocean.
“That’s not much of a chance,” said Reno.
“What else can we do?” rapped Jones, at the end of his rope.
“Once the bridge connects to the island, nothing can stop them. They have the numbers.”
“If we stay out here, we’re not even slowing them down. It’s pointless to stay here.”
“Maybe we can negotiate with the infected,” said Parnell, placing a tarpaulin over Halverson’s shivering body.
Reno laughed. “Yeah. Negotiate with zombies. That’ll work. They can’t understand a word we’re saying.”
“Why not? They’re still human, even if they’re suffering from the plague.”
“You sound like Bascomb about these creatures being human. They were human. They’re not human anymore.”
“But maybe there’s a trace of humanity still inside them.”
Reno waved his hand dismissively. “Count me out. If you want to powwow with these things, suit yourself.”
Huddled in the Zodiac with the tarpaulin draped over his shoulders, Halverson felt sea spray impinging on his face as the boat plowed through the ragged waters.
“If the things set foot on the island, we’ll have to leave it,” he said.
“Why not leave it now?” asked Reno.
Jones shook his head, no. “It’s still the safest place. It’s the only place I know that hasn’t been invaded by the infected.”
“But we have zero chance of preventing the ghouls from reaching the island.”
“Our only chance is to negotiate with them,” insisted Parnell.
“OK,” said Reno. “You can stand on the shore with a white flag in your hand and palaver with them. All I can say is, who do we notify as your next of kin?”
“Can we all stop arguing for a second and dope out what we’re gonna do?” said Victoria.
“Why return to the island at all? Let’s keep sailing out into the Pacific.”
“You’re talking like a traitor,” said Jones. He tightened his grip on his AK-47. “That kind of talk could get you killed.”
“If we stay on the island and try to fight those things, we’re all gonna get killed.”
“Any problem can be solved if we put our minds to it,” put in Parnell.
“Your optimism is cloying,” said Reno.
“The boss’ll know what to do,” said Jones.
“He’ll throw us all in the joint again.”
“No, he won’t. He needs your firepower—now more than ever.”
Halverson was starting to warm up and feel better, though his head still ached. Not that he had much to feel good about, but at least he wasn’t shivering anymore.
“We’re gonna have to hit those things on the shore with everything we’ve got,” he said.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Jones.
“We may have to spend the rest of our lives shooting those things on the shore.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Reno. “That’s a no-win situation, no matter how you look at it.”
Jones glowered at Reno. “If you keep griping like that, I might forget we need your firepower.”
“Face it. We’re screwed.”
“And you’re not lucky either. You and your friend Halverson aren’t lucky. Remember that. Your luck’s all bad.”
Reno didn’t back down. “Who’s your next of kin?”
Jones shook his head. “I don’t know how you’ve lived as long as you have, the things you say.”
“Just one big happy family,” said Victoria.
Warmed up, Halverson shook the tarpaulin off his torso and patted his shoulders. His MP7 was still slung over his shoulder, but the bandoleers were gone.
“I need another bandoleer,” he said.
Reno gave him one of his.
“Thanks,” said Halverson.
“You’re a better shot than me, anyway.�
��
“What are we gonna tell the boss?” said Jones in consternation. “He’s not gonna like hearing that we failed our mission.”
“Tell him anything you want,” said Reno. “I’d like to tell him to jump off a cliff.”
“Watch your mouth,” said Jones angrily. “He could toss you back in the slammer any time if he hears you say stuff like that.”
“I don’t know what kind of a hold he’s got over you to make you so scared of him.”
Jones bristled at the tiller. “I’m not scared of anyone, least of all you.”
“We’re almost there,” said Tattoo Head.
Chapter 68
When they arrived at the dock at Alcatraz, everybody piled out of the two remaining Zodiacs onto the island.
“Get everyone over here on the south end of the island at the Agave Trail,” said Jones, standing on the pier. “That’s where they’re gonna hit us.”
Tattoo Head and three other guards shot off toward the prison.
“And make sure they’re armed!” Jones hollered after them.
He turned back to Halverson, Reno, Victoria, Parnell, and the remaining guards.
“An RPG would take care of that bridge,” said Halverson.
“Except we don’t have an RPG,” said Jones. “I need the rest of you to take up position on the southern end of the island. We’re not gonna let even one of those infected on our island!”
The crews from the Zodiacs struck off. Halverson, Reno, Victoria, and Parnell lingered behind.
Jones headed in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” asked Halverson.
“I have to give a sitrep to the boss.”
“What’s a sitrep?” asked Reno.
“Situation report,” answered Halverson.
“While you’re there, get his permission to blow your nose,” Reno told Jones.
Jones sneered at Reno and spat.
Reno said nothing.
“You don’t understand this place at all, do you?” said Jones.
“I do understand this place. That’s why I want to get the hell out of here so bad.”
“You don’t want to get on the boss’s list. If you don’t do like he says, you’re gonna get on his list. And then you’re gonna end up in the dungeon.”
“You don’t have to tell me how scared you are of him.”
Jones screwed up his face in fury. “You’d be scared too, if you’d seen all the people he’s taken to the dungeon.”
“All the more reason to get out of this place.”
“We had a good thing going here till you showed up.”
“It doesn’t sound that way to me.”
“This ain’t over between you and me,” said Jones. “Not by a long shot. After we repel the infected, we’ll have this out.”
“Don’t forget me,” said Halverson.
“You’re gonna get some, too.”
“I hope so.”
Sneering, Jones turned around and went on his way to Bascomb’s house.
“What makes him so sure we’ll be able to repel the zombies?” Reno asked Halverson.
Parnell stepped up to them. “We need to reason with them. It’s the only way we’re gonna stop them.”
Reno shut his eyes and shook his head. “You can’t reason with these creatures, Doc. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“The only thing these creatures understand is a bullet to the brain,” said Halverson.
Halverson, Reno, Victoria, and Parnell deployed along the southern end of the island.
“Dig in,” said Halverson, standing on a slope that overlooked the bay. Not that he could see much of the bay, thanks to the fog.
“Now what do we do?” asked Reno.
“All we can do is wait for the creatures to show themselves then cut them to ribbons.”
“We couldn’t stop them from building their bridge. What makes you think we can stop them here?”
Halverson faced Reno. “All we can do is slow them down.”
Brooding, Parnell paced around in a circle. He came to a halt, his mind made up.
“I’m heading for the shore,” he said.
“You don’t want to get too close to those things, Doc,” said Reno.
“We have a wider line of fire from here on the rise,” said Halverson. “Safer, too.”
Parnell made tracks for the shore.
“We can’t see anything from here,” he said over his shoulder.
“He’s got a point,” said Reno.
“We’ll be able to see them from here before they hit the shore.” Halverson looked up. “And maybe this fog’ll lift by then, too.”
“I didn’t think the doc was such an eager beaver to mix it up with the creatures,” said Reno, watching Parnell take off.
“He’s not,” said Victoria, approaching Reno. “I was next to him in the boat. I didn’t see him fire a single shot at the creatures on the bridge.”
“Then what’s it all about?” said Reno, scratching his head.
Halverson reconnoitered the area, behind him as well as before him.
“What are you looking for?” asked Victoria.
“Just recce,” answered Halverson.
As he turned to face the prison, he saw a figure looming out of the fog, walking in his direction. Halverson shrugged his MP7 off his shoulder and racked the first cartridge.
“What is it?” asked Reno.
Then he, too, picked up on the figure emerging from the fog. He grabbed his weapon.
“How could one of those things be behind us on the island?” said Halverson.
“Let me do the honors,” said Reno, preparing to fire.
“Wait a second.” Halverson could now discern the figure’s face. “It’s Jones.”
“I don’t have any problems shooting him.”
Halverson clasped Reno’s muzzle and lowered it. “We still need all the firepower we can get against the creatures.”
Jones strutted out of the fog. “Here you are.”
“Did you get your orders from Bascomb already?” asked Reno.
“Nope. I forgot something.” Jones eyeballed Victoria. “She’s coming with me.”
“Why?” asked Halverson suspiciously.
“So she can be one of Bascomb’s playmates?” sniped Reno.
“I don’t want you guys to get any ideas while I’m away,” said Jones.
Halverson raised his MP7. “What if she doesn’t want to go with you?”
“That’s not a good idea,” said Jones, eying Halverson’s gun and raising his AK-47 in response.
Reno drew a bead on Jones with his MP7. “Why not?”
“Turn around and find out.”
Reno smirked and shook his head, not turning it.
Halverson glanced over his shoulder, wondering if the walking dead were invading.
It wasn’t the walking dead he saw. It was the contingent of Jones’s guards that had disembarked from the Zodiacs and preceded Halverson to the shore. The guards were standing twenty-odd feet behind Halverson. To a man, they had their AK-47s trained on Halverson and Reno.
Halverson turned his head toward Jones and lowered his MP7.
“What are you doing?” asked Reno with a frown.
“We got company.” Halverson nodded in back of him.
Reno sneaked a glance behind him. His face fell. He lowered his gun.
Smiling, Jones held up a walkie-talkie with his free hand even as he trained his AK on Halverson. “Never leave home without it.”
“So now what?” asked Reno.
“Victoria comes with me. That’s what.”
Victoria scoped out the armed men behind her and grudgingly angled toward Jones.
“Why?” asked Halverson.
“To keep you and your buddies honest,” answered Jones. “I don’t want you getting any funny ideas.”
He retreated with Victoria toward Bascomb’s house and vanished into the fog.
Chapter 69
Bascomb was sitting in a leather recliner helping himself to a bottle of Cristal champagne in his well-appointed living room when he heard the doorbell ring.
His middle-aged butler Rupert who had a bum leg that he had got in a firefight in Hue answered the door and let Jones and Victoria into the foyer. Rupert halted toward the living room and introduced them to Bascomb.
Bascomb eyed Jones and set down his glass of champagne on a nearby walnut coffee table.
Jones looked hangdog.
Concerned, Bascomb sprang to his feet. “What happened?”
“The mission failed,” answered Jones, holding his head down.
“Failed? How could it fail? Didn’t you break the bridge?”
“We couldn’t break it.”
“Why not?”
“The infected are building a bridge out of themselves.”
“That’s impossible!”
“I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Then shoot them. They’re at war with us. I gave you the order to shoot them as enemies.”
“We did shoot them. There are thousands of them pouring across the bridge. We can’t get enough firepower in two boats to kill all of them.”
“I thought you took three boats.”
Jones bowed his head and muttered, “We lost one.”
“Fuck,” said Bascomb. He paced to his bay window and gazed out into the fog. “Then we’ll have to stop them when they try to land on the island.”
“I know.”
“Where are they gonna land, do you think?”
“On the southern end, near the Agave Trail.”
“Deploy all our men there.”
“I’m doing that.”
“We’ll blast them out of the water before they ever set foot on our land.”
Jones rucked his brow with worry. “I don’t think we’ve got enough firepower and manpower here to stop them.”
Bascomb slewed on his heel to confront Jones. “Our armory’s crammed with ordnance.”
“But how many thousands of rounds do we have?”
“How many thousands are we gonna need?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t see any end to the infected. They’re swarming all over the bridge without letup. There’s gotta be over a thousand of them.”
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