Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller

by Rich Restucci

  Martinez stepped forward. “Wiz. Wiz, it’s me Pabs! You know me man, we’re best friends.”

  The ex-cop strained harder to reach his buddy, his hands waving in the air.

  Meara put a hand on the sniper’s shoulder, “He’s gone Martinez. That’s something using his body, you know it.”

  “I know sir. I just… I just wanted to try.”

  “Of course.” Meara stepped a little closer and lowered his voice, “You should do it.”

  Nodding, Martinez drew his sidearm. “Back up, everyone.” Pointing the weapon at his friend’s face, the living cop told the dead cop: “No more Bud Heavies on Fridays, buddy,” and squeezed the trigger.

  Down the hall, a somber group lowered their heads when they heard the shot. Rick, Dallas, Chris, and Anna left the room after a moment of silence and climbed up to the new command center in the lighthouse. McInerney was waiting for them at the top with Pitt and a man as yet unknown, dressed neck to toe in black camouflage. A sailor from the sub was walking around the exterior catwalk, raising binoculars to his eyes every few seconds.

  “Sorry about your man,” McInerney said to Barnes.

  “Thanks. So what’s the plan then?”

  “Lieutenant Commander Pitt?”

  “Sir. The four of you, Martinez, and seven members of Detachment Bravo will leave Alcatraz by means of two CRRCs, and head here.” He pointed at a spot on the map that was displayed on a rickety table in front of them. Six black and white photos were on the table as well. “This is a US Marine Corps vehicle service depot. Scans from a WASP UAV show three LAV-IIIs, which are the perfect vehicle for your mission. They’re amphibious, bullet resistant, and impervious to any Limas you will encounter. The operational range is usually about six hundred and fifty kilometers on a tank of diesel, but as these were just serviced, you might get another ten klicks out of them. One of the LAVs is on a lift, which means it was probably being serviced and is non-functional. The other two are parked just outside a hanger, indicating repairs were most likely finished. At least we hope they are finished.

  Anna raised her hand. “What’s a CRRC?”

  Pitt looked at her strangely, “It’s a combat rubber raiding craft. A small inflatable boat with a super quiet motor. After you secure the LAVs, you will exfiltrate the depot, and head to another location which is need-to-know. We will provide you with the coordinates of the second location when you are en-route.”

  “Why can’t you let us know up front, Major?” Barnes asked.

  “The LAVs come with standard armaments. The primary weapon system for these particular vehicles is an M242 Bushmaster chain gun. This is a crew-served weapon, and fires 25 millimeter shells. The secondary armaments are either twin FN MAG machine guns, one mounted on the roof, and one coax mounted, or an 81mm mortar assembly. Unfortunately, as these vehicles were being serviced by civilian mechanics, the armaments were removed and stored at a separate facility.” Pitt looked at the four civilians carefully, one at a time. “Should you be captured by rogue elements and tortured, we don’t want you to know where the weapons and ammo are being stored. Sorry. Are there any intelligent questions?”

  Martinez walked in on the last of Pitt’s briefing. “Yeah, when do we leave?”

  “In the morning,” McInerney told them, “Zero four hundred.”

  Dallas looked at McInerney. “Kevin, what if we don’t make it to the guns?”

  “We will,” the man in black said.

  “Apologies,” blurted McInerney, “this is Lieutenant Boone, he’s in charge of the SEALs. I thought you should meet him. I know you have already met most of his team, but Boone was… otherwise occupied the past week. He was acquiring the scans of the Marine vehicle depot, and performing…other duties.”

  “Howdy,” Dallas said. Boone gave a curt nod. “Kevin, what if we find more survivors on the way?”

  “I fully expect that you will. Mission priority is relocating those scientists in Boston. However, any aid you can provide to survivors you encounter, you should, so long as it doesn’t interfere with your mission. Don’t go giving all of your ammo or supplies away, but don’t let a family get overrun if you can save them. In addition, you may absorb any military elements you encounter along the way. Again, as long as it doesn’t endanger the safety and security of the operation or your primary objective.”

  Dallas smiled, “Got it.”

  “If that’s all, you should get some rest and some food. It will likely be a long morning for you tomorrow. Barnes and Boone, if you would remain behind, I have…”

  A rap on the light house glass got everyone’s attention. The crewman with the binoculars pointed to his eyes and then out to the bay.

  “On it sir.” Pitt said walking out to the catwalk. He returned quickly. “There’s a boat approaching. Looks like civvies.”

  “Let’s meet them then. Full alert.”

  “Sir!” Pitt returned to the catwalk and began speaking into his radio.

  “Well, that’s about it. When you’ve secured the transports, you will contact us via radio, and we will give you a coded message on where the weapons depot is. Best of luck.” McInerney shook hands with Dallas, Anna, and Chris. “I have some logistical information to share with detective Barnes, but you three are free to go.

  “Thanks Kevin, I’m gonna git me some chow.”

  “Yes, thank you sir,” Anna told him. The three civilians exited the room and began trekking down the spiral staircase of the lighthouse.

  “Lieutenant Boone.” McInerney took a step back and folded his hands behind him.

  “Sir. Mr. Barnes, may I speak frankly to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Due respect, I think it’s inane to have civilians on this mission, you included. Civilians complicate things, and usually turn missions into giant cluster-fucks. You could easily provide the intel we need to exfil the scientists from their lab. This having been said, the Commander seems to want you and yours on this mission. I won’t bring my opinions on this matter up again, but you needed to know.

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Fair enough. Here comes the bombshell though: No matter what the Commander says, now or in the future, I have operational command.” Boone looked at McInerney, who nodded back to him. “This is a military mission, and as such, the civilian element, you included, will abide by any orders given you, or you will be detained. If anyone becomes a consistent problem, they will be left behind. If anyone willfully or intentionally fucks with the mission, or any parameters thereof, I will shoot them myself. As of right now, I’m holding you personally responsible for the actions of your people. I’m not a prick, but I won’t be put in a situation where a civilian will get my team killed through dumbassery. I will not.”

  “I think you and I will get along just fine, Lieutenant,” Rick said and stuck his hand out. Boone shook it; he had a good grip.

  Commander McInerney spoke up. “I believe we have some folks to greet.”

  29

  Ali had nowhere to go. Jumping across the gaps between the giant shipping boxes had brought her to a dead end. She lay down on the hot roof of a red container, put her hands behind her head, and stared at the cloudless sky. The moans and wails of the dead were nerve-wracking, and they were close, barely five feet away. She couldn’t see them, and they couldn’t see her, but each knew the other was there, and the dead were patient.

  She couldn’t wrap her head around why there were so many here though. These were docks, so there should have been some people here before the plague hit, dock workers, ship personnel, but not this many. There were hundreds, maybe even a thousand or more. If not for the cramped quarters between the shipping containers, the sheer mass of the tide of undead could have tipped over the box she was on, spilling her into the open mouths of the infected.

  Ali could see the end of the dock she needed to go to, but getting there was impossible. In her way were gaps of thirty feet or more, and those gaps were filled with milling cannibals. Makin
g a break for it was tantamount to suicide with so many creatures about.

  It was hot on top of the metal box, and Ali brought her hands to her ears to loosen the grip that the cries of the undead had on her already limited sanity. She thought of Billy, and how he had continually saved her life, and about how dangerous he could be if he was really a level four schizophrenic. Irony, pure and simple: Repeatedly saved by a man who was as crazy as a shithouse rat. She thought of her father, who was a businessman in San Francisco, and came to see her every other day while she had been incarcerated at Morningside. He was undoubtedly dead, as were the folks she had worked with at the chemistry lab where she used to work. The thoughts of her father, and of how alone she was now, got her to sobbing, and she burst into tears.

  She cried quietly. With her ears covered, and the noise of her own weeping, she was unable to hear the beeping sound that approached her. She stopped crying and opened her eyes when she finally felt the rumble of machinery. Looking up, she saw a gigantic blue crane arm swinging toward her. It took several tries for the crane hooks to get in the proper position, but after some minutes of bemused observation on Ali’s part, the hooks were lowered until they touched the center of the container she was on.

  Ali stared at the cable laced chains as if they were totally alien to her. She followed the chains to the crane arm, and the arm to an operator’s box high on the crane. The windows were tinted, and it was very far away, so she was unable to see who was operating the giant machine. A tinny voice came over an intercom attached to a big metal ball above the hooks: “There’s a reason they call that a headache ball you know. Watch your noggin.”

  She smiled, a different type of tears spilling forth. Billy to the rescue again.

  “You gotta attach the hooks to the rings on the top of the container. There should be four of em’. When they’re hooked up, wave your arms, then lay down in the middle, I’m gonna lift you up!”

  The chains were extremely heavy, but she was able to pull them to their destinations, four large pear-shaped rings attached to the top of the box. The hooks had spring loaded snaps on them, so as soon as she hooked them in, they sprung closed, preventing them from slipping off. She waved her arms frantically for a second and then lay down in the center of the box as she had done before. It was still hot.

  Very slowly, the chains began to lift, and there was a beeping sound. When the chains became taut, there was a great creaking noise, and the container began to lift. In seconds she felt the box swing slightly left, and she knew she was airborne. The container continued to rise, and she had the feeling she was very high, but dared not venture to the edge to look down. “Cool!” she heard Billy say over the intercom, “Two of them tried to hold on, but they just let go and fell! Simultaneous splat! That counts! One hundred and eleven, woo-hoo!” Billy’s tinny voice got serious through the intercom, “Ali listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you about Alcatraz; there’s a bunch of cops there. Don’t freak! They won’t know you were from Morningside unless you tell them. My plan was to get you to the boat and then on the island, but Martin and Tony can get you there just as well. I can’t come with you, the cops will lock me up. I’m sorry. Please tell Sam that I’m sorry too. I found something in the sports guy’s house, and I swiped it and stuck it in your back pack at the treatment plant. Give it to Sam. I’ll see you again kiddo, bye!”

  That was all he said before he swung the giant storage repository out past the edge of the dock with unpracticed ease. The group of people in the boat didn’t know what to make of this huge red cuboid coming out into the bay. The boat began to pull away when Ali crawled to the edge, and grabbing a chain for balance, began to yell to them. They waited as Ali’s refuge lowered into the choppy water. She jumped off and swam to the boat as Martin piloted it closer to her. Abbey and Tony pulled her in and she sprawled on the bottom of the boat, coughing.

  “How the hell didja do that?” Tony demand.

  Spitting out bay water, Ali grinned at the curious group, “Billy! He used the crane to lift me out of there!”

  “Is Billy ok?” asked Caleb, “where is he?”

  “He’s not coming.”

  Caleb started to cry.

  “But he told me to tell you and Noah that he would see you again soon!” Ali unzipped her pack and looked inside. She lifted her head with a sad smile.

  Martin started the boat as Caleb continued to sniffle. Wordlessly, they travelled toward Alcatraz and, hopefully, salvation.

  As they came closer to the island, they could see figures moving about on shore. The movement of said figures was not the jerky or shuffling gait of the undead, but the sure footed, capable strides of living humans.

  Approaching a small dock, Tony saw that the area where they would come ashore began to fill with people. Most were dressed in black, and all had wicked looking automatic rifles. Although none of the rifles were aimed in the direction of the boat, Tony still had a feeling of unease as he threw a line to one of the men standing on the dock.

  One of the men spoke up loudly. “Please place your packs and weapons at your feet in the boat before stepping ashore, and whatever you do, don’t jump in the water. We’ve had some undead stumble ashore, and they could be right under you now for all we know. Please pass the children up first.”

  Two more men reached hands down to grab Noah and Caleb. Noah wouldn’t let go of his mother and started screeching. “It’s ok honey, I’m right behind you, and see, Caleb is already on the dock.” Noah would have none of it, and Melanie had to be lifted from the boat with Noah firmly attached to her neck.

  When the passengers were all safely on the dock, a tall man strode forward and extended his hand to Martin, who took it. “My name is Captain Michael Meara of the San Francisco Police Department. Welcome to Alcatraz.”

  “Thank you Captain, thank you very much.”

  “You’re all welcome here, but there are protocols that must be adhered to. It won’t take very long, and then we’ll get some food into you.”

  “Protocols?” asked Ali.

  “Yes. I’m very sorry, but each of you will need to be inspected for bites and scratches by our doctor. Also, a twenty-four hour segregation from our population is mandatory. If you are infected and don’t know it, this will keep you from infecting anyone else. You may all stay together while quarantined, and you’re absolutely not prisoners, but you must be confined for the allotted time. If you would follow me?”

  Before any of his party could object, Martin replied to the Captain, “That sounds reasonable sir; thank you for letting us come ashore.”

  “This way,” Meara told them. The small group of new comers was flanked by seven armed men dressed in OCP Multi-cam operational camouflage as they walked toward one of the ratty buildings on The Rock.

  Ali stepped up to Meara, “Excuse me sir, but is there a little girl named Sam on this island?”

  Meara stopped, as did the whole procession. He looked at Ali strangely. “Yes there is, how did you know that?”

  “A friend of mine asked me to give her something, it’s in my pack.”

  “What is it?”

  “A stuffed dog.”

  Meara looked at one of the soldiers and nodded curtly. The soldier ran back to the boat where another two soldiers were unloading the items that had been left there. A few moments later the man returned with a cute, albeit wet, stuffed animal.

  “Your friend’s name wouldn’t be Billy, would it?”

  “Yeah, do you know him?”

  “Yes, we do,” was all he said as he turned and made for a large white building.

  30

  High atop his huge crane, Billy watched the small aluminum boat get smaller as it motored across the Bay. He was happy that those good folks were able to make it out of the city safely. Billy loved kids, and to see one of them get torn up by these walking nightmares may have broken him. He hoped that they would make it to Alcatraz with no problems. Caleb would meet Sam, and Noah might come out of his shell if a
nother child besides his brother was present.

  Climbing out of the cab of the giant machine, Billy looked down at the crowd of dead faces far below him and sighed. From this vantage point, he could see several work vessels tied to a dock on the other side of the terminal. If he could get the keys to those boats, he could get a lot of people out of San Francisco. Billy now realized that saving the living could be his calling. He did pretty well with the small group of survivors he escorted from the sewers, not to mention his tally was up over a hundred now!

  He began the arduous climb down the welded steel rungs on the side of the crane. It was a good six stories down, and at the bottom he would have to face the dead again. The only problem this presented was that it would slow him down. Again, the things didn’t seem to want to eat him. It was something about the hospital that had given the creatures an appetite for fresh Billy, but he couldn’t figure it. Morningside was where one of them first tried to chew on him, but fifteen minutes before that, he could walk among them as if he were an old drinking buddy.

  When he reached the base of the crane, he was greeted by a few dozen undead who, once again, came at him with gusto until they were a few feet away, then shambled off. What had he done differently at the hospital than now or before? He went over and over it in his head. A fast one had attacked him and he had killed it. When it was dead, like its friends, it wanted nothing to do with him. Why? He met Ali, and they still didn’t want him, but they wanted her. He remembered a term he had overheard his mother use when she didn’t know he was listening: Undesirable. Maybe that was the ticket; he just tasted bad and they knew it?

  Billy shook his head and chuckled, which immediately brought three zombies to within feet of him again before they wandered off. He chased them down and grabbed a dead mechanic in blue overalls. “What is it huh? Why not?” The thing looked at him for a second and tried to shuffle away, but Billy held it fast. It even began pushing him away, so he slapped it across the face. Infected fluids covered his hand, and he wiped it on the dead man’s overalls.