Adjusting for the noise and recoil, I advanced tactically towards the walkway. I engaged the tactical light and lit up the area. Two more rapid shots and I sent two more Stalkers flying back into the water. The second one's arm flew almost twenty feet into the air before splashing into the water and sinking.
Behind me I heard a grunt, followed by the smack of steel on flesh. I spun around to see Snake knocking a zombie over the rail and into the water beyond. He spun to his left and crushed the skull of a second one that was just climbing aboard the boat. With a satisfied snort, he turned back to me. There was a large grin on his face as he nodded at me.
"I see why you like this thing," he said. "I'm definitely gonna have to get me one of these."
With a nod, I slipped over the rail and onto the walkway. Snake followed on my heels and we headed for the group of survivors huddled behind the console of a small boat. Spec-4 and Elliott were covering them and looked happy to see us as we walked up.
"Nice of you two to join us," said Spec-4, smiling.
"Sorry," I said. "We were a little busy kicking each other's asses. We're here, now."
"What do we do?" asked Spec-4. "I didn't think those things could swim."
"Me either," I said. "I think they climbed up the anchor lines."
I turned and fired off another blast from the Beowulf, nearly cutting a zombie in half and sending it sprawling off the boat.
"Get everyone onto one of the pontoon boats," I snapped. "We'll round up everyone we can find and meet you there. We have to get off of this island. They’ll just keep coming."
"You heard the man," shouted Snake to the confused people. "Listen to him. We're going to be leaving with them, if they'll have us."
"Gladly," I replied. "Let's get everyone we can save and get the fuck out of here."
Spec-4 and Elliott started herding the others towards a large pontoon boat while we covered them. The people were motivated to move quickly, so they didn’t waste much time. Once they were all aboard, Spec-4 turned to me and waved.
“We’re on!”she called out.
“Elliott,” I yelled. “Fire up the engine and take it away from the island. Stay close so you can come back in and pick us up. We’ll be ready to move quickly.”
“No problem, dad,” he replied, moving towards the controls.
Seconds later, Spec-4 cast off the mooring lines. Elliott throttled up and backed away from us. If the boat wasn’t attached to the island, the Stalkers shouldn’t be able to get aboard. I was mostly sure that they had climbed the anchor lines. If they really could swim, then we were in big trouble.
I grabbed a range bag from one of the benches and pulled out ammo for the Glock. I dropped the magazine and rapidly reloaded it. Once it was done, I chambered a round and replaced it in the magazine. With it fully loaded, I handed it to Snake. Then I took a moment to reload my own magazine in the Beowulf from the loose rounds in my bag. Once we were loaded and ready, we headed off to look for more survivors.
We found four Stalkers trying to force their way into a cabin cruiser. Between the two of us, we made short work of them. Once we cleared it, we heard the barricade behind the door begin to shift. Inside were four women, the two children and Dolt. Dolt was the only one who was armed. He looked very relieved to see us.
“Sheriff’s Department,” I said, smiling. “We’re here to get you all out of here.”
“You heard the man,” said Snake. “Grab your shit and let’s move.”
“Where are we going to go?” asked Dolt.
“We’re taking you all back to our camp,” I replied. “It’s safer than it is here. We have room for all of you.”
We moved the women and kids out onto one of the other pontoon boats. I shot four more Stalkers while Snake cast off the mooring lines and headed for the controls. There were three other large boats in the little flotilla. One was on fire, the other was crawling with Stalkers and the third was an open decked party barge. It was clear to see that it was unoccupied.
“I think this is everyone!” I called over my shoulder. "Everyone we can reach."
“Good enough for me,” shouted Snake.
Instantly, the outboard motor came to life and we backed away from the impromptu island. Fire from the burning boat was spreading to the connecting docks and other boats. I certainly hoped that we had grabbed everything important. By morning, most of this island was going to be burnt wreckage at the bottom of the lake.
When the fire reached the fuel tanks on the burning boat, the fireball rolled high into the night. We could hear the dying groan of the boat’s superstructure as it buckled and began taking on water. We all sat there in silence as the fire engulfed the only safe place any of these people had known since the apocalypse began. It was a sobering moment for all of us.
Chapter Twelve
To The Rescue
“Listen to the sound of dead men dying.
March as they flee but exiled bound.
Their ship once sailed no longer anchors,
For gone is the green,
And their hallowed ground.”
- Flogging Molly
- The Kilburn High Road
We pulled alongside the boat that Spec-4 and Elliott were on and let the motor idle. All told, we had managed to rescue twelve survivors, not counting Snake. There were two men, ten women and the two children. One of the two men was Dolt. I had mixed emotions about him surviving. Both of the women that had been with Snake had survived. He seemed relieved when he discovered that. My first impressions aside, they seemed to care about each other. They ran to him and held him as they watched the island burn.
"What now?" asked Elliott, tossing me a mooring line so we could lash the boats together.
"Well," I said, taking the rope. "whatever we do, we can't drop an anchor. I'm pretty sure that they got on the island by climbing the anchor lines."
"Pretty sure?" asked Spec-4, joining us by the rail.
"I don't think they've figured out how to swim, yet," I replied.
"Give them time," she replied. "We didn't think they'd come after us in the water, either."
"Good point," I said. "I guess we keep moving until it gets light. Then we're going to start making our way back to Southard and the others."
"By the way, here's your stuff," said Spec-4, tossing me my bag and gear. "I thought you might want these."
I took them gratefully and started putting my gear back on. I couldn't help but smile when I found my old Army Colt in the bag and buckled it back on my hip.
"Hello, old friend," I muttered, feeling the weight on my waist.
"I think Wylie has two loves in his life," said Spec-4 to Elliott. "Your mother and that gun. Maybe not in that order, though."
Elliott just chuckled and kept watching the waters around us. I placed all of my weapons in their proper place, except the M-4. I wanted to hang onto the Beowulf. I considered giving it to Dolt, but he didn't seem to know much about weapons. Better to let him keep the bolt-action rifle he already had. No sense in overcomplicating things. Eventually, we'd teach him to use it properly, but we didn't have time right then. I handed it to Snake and he took it cautiously. He made the correct move by not putting his finger on the trigger.
"I told you, I'm not a very good shot," he said.
"Do any of your people have any weapons training?" I asked.
"Not really," he admitted. "We didn't have anyone in the group who was ex-military or law enforcement. I don't usually hang around with that crowd. No offense."
"None taken," I replied. "Do you know how to use it?"
"I know the basics," he said, after a moment's hesitation. "I can shoot it and all that. I'm just not the best shot in the world. I'm better with my hands."
"Go ahead and hang onto it," I said, smiling. "It's better to have everyone armed who can use a gun in case we're attacked."
"Good plan," he said, shouldering the weapon after checking the safety.
"DAD!" shouted Elliott. "Look!"
<
br /> I turned and he was pointing back towards the dam. There in the sky just beyond the dam was a flare, arcing into the night sky. It was glowing green and trailing smoke back below the other side of the dam. It was unmistakably the act of a living person. The Stalkers were smart, but they weren't that smart. They hunted like pack hunters, like wolves. They didn't, however, set any kind of traps. At least, they hadn't so far.
"What do you make of that?" asked Spec-4.
"It's a distress flare," I said. "Someone’s asking for help."
"You mean, there might be someone alive over there?" asked Spec-4, surprised.
"Or more than one person," I said. "We'll only find out by going over there."
"If we go over there," said Elliott, "we're going to be overtaken by the dead. That entire area is crawling with them."
"We can't take everyone," I said, shaking my head. "It'll have to be a small group."
"I think it's an awfully big risk to take," said Spec-4. "By the time we get over there, they might already be dead."
"If we don't even try," I replied, "they will be."
"I'm in," said Snake.
"Your both crazy," said Spec-4.
"I've heard that before," I replied.
"Well, it's true," she retorted. "I'll go with you, just to watch your back."
"We need to make sure that the group is protected while we're gone," I said, glancing around.
"Yeah," agreed Snake, "we can't leave them unprotected out here."
"Fine," I said, shaking my head. "Just me and Snake, then. We'll travel faster with just two of us and we're both good at fighting with our hands."
"As his face can attest," muttered Spec-4 to Elliott.
Elliott just glanced away and smirked. I couldn’t argue with her. The man threw a punch like a pile-driver. I’m sure my face was going to be one mass of bruises before morning. I was amazed I could still talk without sounding like I had a mouthful of marbles. My head hurt from the beating I’d taken. I really didn’t look forward to doing that again, any time soon.
“So, what’s the plan?” asked Snake.
“We find us a smaller boat,” I said, hesitating. “Then we head for the far end of the dam. With any luck, we should be able to fight our way down the other side.”
“And the return trip?” asked Spec-4.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” I admitted, smiling.
“You never do,” she replied, not returning the smile. “Your luck might run out one of these days.”
“When it does,” I said, “you can tell me ‘I told you so.’”
Behind us, along the shore, I heard a Shrieker begin to scream. It couldn’t have been more than thirty yards away. I knew that it had to have seen us and was trying to draw more zombies to the area. I leveled my Beowulf at the general area, but it was too dark to see anything in any detail. I couldn’t afford to shoot blind. I didn’t have that kind of ammo, to spare.
I panned around for a moment, searching for the terrible screeching noise that was coming from the shore. I didn’t find the Shrieker, but I did find a sizable dock. There still were several boats tied along the mooring slips. Two of them looked to be the fast ski boat, variety. If we could get one of them running, we might have a shot at reaching the dam quick enough to save whoever had fired the flare.
“There!” I said, pointing towards the dock. “Let’s go boat shopping.”
“We can’t take our boat in there,” said Spec-4. “We’ll be a sitting duck.”
“Drop us off on the dock and head back out to deep water,” I said. “We’ll manage. We can defend the dock while we figure out which boat we want.”
“How can just the two of you pull that off?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Believe me,” said Snake, “a small group of well-motivated individuals can easily hold something like a dock for long enough to pull this off.”
I instantly thought of the dream, again. I could see the handful of us defending the dock while the others escaped. There were more of us then, but this dock was smaller. We could hold it. Our only problem was getting one of the boats to start. We could do it without the keys, but not without fuel. If it didn’t have any fuel, then we were dead in the water. Both literally and figuratively.
We transferred all of the civilians to the larger boat, then fired up the engine on ours. Elliott came over to our boat to drive. His instructions were simple: get us close enough to the dock to jump across, then get the hell out of there. We’d have to take it from there. If there were too many of them for us to handle, we either swam or went to Valhalla together.
Elliott brought the boat around in a wide arc and angled us in towards the dock. He was approaching at an angle so he wouldn’t have to stop and back out. We would have to jump across from the side. When the dock was less than twenty yards away, I could see that there were only a few zombies on it. I quickly let the Beowulf hang by the strap around my neck and snagged the M-4 from Snake. It had a suppressor on it. The Beowulf, did not.
I rapidly checked the weapon and flipped the selector switch to semi. Snapping the weapon tight against my shoulder, I took a steady aim. Four shots later, the dock was clear of the dead. Two of them went into the water and the other two fell to the deck and didn’t get back up. With a smile, I handed the weapon back to Snake.
“Nice,” said Snake, nodding his approval.
“Thanks,” I said, and stepped up onto a couch to get ready to jump.
Elliott throttled back the engine as we approached within a few feet of the end of the dock. With a lunge, I jumped across and landed with a loud thud on the wooden dock. Seconds later, Snake landed right behind me. I stood up and started scanning the area. I didn’t see any of the dead in our immediate area, so I readied my Beowulf and headed for the nearest boat. Snake was right on my heels.
I glanced around as I moved and didn’t see anything that even remotely looked like an office. There was no central building where the keys might be stored. We were going to have to do this the hard way. We stopped next to the closest of the two ski boats.
“I’ll cover you,” I said. “Check and see if it has any gas in the tank.”
Snake nodded and jumped down into the boat. I kept my weapon trained on the end of the dock that touched the shore. After a few tense moments, Snake climbed back out onto the dock. I just gave him a questioning glance.
“Looks like it has about half a tank,” he said. “Hang on, though. I have an idea.”
With that, he headed off towards the next nearest boat. It looked to be a fishing boat with the elevated seats. Before I could say anything, he stepped out onto the fishing boat. I covered the area, but tried to keep half an eye on him. I had no idea what the heck he was doing. Seconds later, he was back on the dock and approaching me, grinning.
“The bass boat has a full tank,” he said. “Not only that, but it’s a better choice for what we’re planning.”
“Why is that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice down.
“It has a shallower draft,” he said, gesturing at the boat. “We can slip into shallower water than with the ski boat. We can run that bitch right up on the shore and not hurt her.”
“Good call,” I said, and headed for the fishing boat.
From where we stood, I would estimate we were in about ten feet of water. Snake untied the mooring lines and nodded at me that he was ready. With one more glance at the end of the dock to make sure we were still clear, I stepped off into the boat. I had no more than gotten my footing when Snake pushed us away from the dock.
When we were easily twenty feet away from the dock, I decided to risk a little light. I pulled the flashlight from my belt and handed it to Snake. He took it and clicked it on, bathing the boat in its bright blue glow from the L.E.D. bulb. He pointed it at our feet and smiled a big toothy grin.
"What now?" he asked.
"Give me some light and I'll try to hotwire this thing," I said, starting towards the driver's console.
&n
bsp; "Let me worry about that," he replied, sliding behind the steering wheel. "You cover our backs. Besides that, I've hotwired a car or two in my day."
"I bet you have," I answered, grinning at him.
On the dock, I could see several of the dead wondering out towards us. They were most-likely attracted to the light. They couldn't have seen us, yet. That would change as soon as Snake fired up the big outboard motor. Gripping the flashlight in his teeth, he set to work.
Leaving him to his task, I sat down on one of the elevated fishing seats at the front of the boat. I snagged his M-4 off of the deck and brought it to my shoulder. Despite the gentle rocking of the boat, I still had a good sight picture of the dead walking towards us. I closed my non-firing eye and took a steadying breath. When I relaxed and my hands were steady enough, I took the shot. The first zombie's head popped gore into the air and it dropped like a stone.
I started to line up my second shot when I felt something bump the boat. I knew we were in deep enough water that we shouldn't even come close to hitting the bottom. Snake got to his feet and looked around, surprise evident on his face. I tossed him the M-4 and brought the Beowulf up to my shoulder. Whatever we hit wasn't going to get a warm welcome.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked, readying the weapon.
"I don't know," I answered and flipped my selector switch to fire. "Whatever it is, it's not going to like the reception it gets."
"Careful where you point that thing," he said, nodding at the Beowulf. "That big bastard will blow a hole right through this boat."
"Copy," I whispered through clenched teeth.
I activated the tactical light and started sweeping the area. As soon as the bright tactical light clicked on, a Shrieker on the dock started its keening wail. I spun instantly and brought it into my sights. One short squeeze of the trigger and Beowulf roared its fury across the water, finding its target. My shot hit the Shrieker in the chest, just below the neck. The shriek ended instantly as the head flew away from the body and went rolling down the dock. Beowulf had spoken.
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 19