Shelter for Now

by Bob Howard

  As soon as the first helicopter was clear, the second one was in motion. The soldiers were well aware of the progress the horde was making across the runways, and they wanted to be in the air with plenty of time to spare.

  The third helicopter was being rotated, and the Chief had to comment to Captain Miller about the proficiency his men showed.

  “Jim, I’ve read the Secretary of Defense’s joint statement to all branches of the military about towing aircraft. Some of it is pretty good reading, but your men move helicopters like they wrote the manual.”

  “Thank you, I’ll pass that along to them. After what they saw you do today, I’m pretty sure they think you wrote the manual. They’ll appreciate the compliment.”

  The Chief waited for a minute, and then he cleared his throat.

  “I have another favor to ask. Do you mind my asking if you could have one of your men fly that nice executive Sikorsky back for me? It makes more sense for me to fly that thing up north than the seaplane.”

  Kathy’s head jerked around, and this time it was her turn to grin.

  “I wouldn’t mind riding in the back of that thing on a trip.”

  Captain Miller said it made sense to him, and then he twirled one finger over his head. On that signal, the VH92A’s all turned their rotors. He walked toward the ladder that would take them to the ground, and told the Chief they needed to grab one of the copilots before they took off.

  All three of the Navy helicopters were rapidly reaching their operating temperatures, and Captain Miller put together a crew for the executive bird. They had cleaned the rotors and refueled it, so it was ready to leave with the rest of them.

  As they climbed on board, they surveyed the advancing horde one last time. The four sets of rotors were making an incredible amount of noise, so they couldn’t hear the sound of the horde. One thing was certain, and that was the horde could hear them, and they had increased their pace across the runways.

  The Chief asked the pilot of the Sikorsky to let the others know they should exit to the north and then circle back to the south to get to the Cormorant and the seaplane. It was better to keep the horde moving away from the river, and if they flew directly over them on the way back, the horde would just turn around and follow them.

  The first VH92A lifted into the air, rotated to face the opposite direction, and then started forward. The second waited until the first was well away, and then it did the same.

  Kathy watched the helicopters fly ahead of them from the comfort of the leather seats in the Sikorsky, and she couldn’t help wondering what a survivor on the ground would think if they saw a convoy of four helicopters pass overhead. She felt a moment of sadness for the unknown souls who saw them come toward them, only to disappear in the distance. Maybe it would give someone hope, or maybe it would make them feel hopeless.

  They were banking in a row far too soon for Kathy. She felt like riding in comfort just a little bit longer.

  The first three helicopters only paused above the Cormorant on the Ashley River long enough to lower their additional personnel and gear to the deck, and then they sped off downriver in the direction of Fort Sumter. At the speed they were going, they would be landing in just a few minutes.

  When the Sikorsky was in position over the Coast Guard ship, the pilot gave Kathy and the Chief a thumbs up, and they lowered themselves down. As it pulled away, they jumped into an inflatable rigid hull boat and crossed over to the de Havilland Beaver. It wasn’t as comfortable inside the cockpit, but Kathy felt the comfort of the familiar surroundings.

  “Where we heading, Chief? Are we spending the night at Fort Sumter or heading home?”

  “We need to check in with Mud Island to be sure all is well, then I think it would be safer to spend one night at Fort Sumter. With four helicopters added to the inventory, the Captain will need to keep control of the surface. He can post a watch on the Cormorant and stand guard over the Beaver. Besides, I don’t really like night landings with hostile natives everywhere.”

  “Fort Sumter it is,” said Kathy. “We can check in with their radio better. They have much better range than we do.”

  The Chief rotated the noisy but dependable Beaver to face downriver and brought the plane to full power. The Cormorant was already turning behind them, and he knew everyone was eager to get back to the safety of their shelter.

  The Beaver needed a long stretch of river to take off, so it seemed like they were hardly in the air for three minutes before they could see Fort Sumter in the distance. The helicopters were in a neat row across the largest grassy area inside the fort, and they could see several soldiers waiting on the dock for them.

  ******

  “Machetes, everyone,” said Tom.

  He and Cassandra were already at the end of the dock meeting a small group of infected head on. There was just enough light for us to be able to see the lighthouse up ahead and the gravel path that led to it. The trees weren’t too thick, so we could tell if there were infected dead coming our way even in the fading light.

  Hampton and I had put together a stretcher using the long poles we had used for depth soundings and to push the boat away from docks. They weren’t standard equipment on power boats, but they were useful on ours.

  We always had at least one tarp stashed under a seat, so putting together a stretcher wasn’t a problem. Our problem was going to be carrying Bus to the lighthouse while fighting off the infected. We could already hear their moans, but we didn’t have much choice.

  Tom came back to the boat and traded places with me. I wasn’t offended by the obvious insinuation that he was stronger and faster than me. Bus had a much better chance to make it to the lighthouse with Tom and Hampton doing the heavy lifting.

  Colleen and Jean were still nursing bruises and cuts, but neither of them wanted any special attention. The desperation we all felt was the same. We were about to do a hundred yard dash through the middle of a dimly lit grove of trees, surrounded by an unknown number of the infected.

  “Everybody ready?” asked Hampton.

  He was on the leading end of the stretcher. He and Tom both lifted as he asked the question.

  Cassandra went up ahead and to his right while Colleen took up a position ahead and to the left. Jean and I covered Tom on the left and right. I leaned forward around Tom to where Jean stood with her machete. She gave me a half smile, but I could tell she was scared. We all were.

  There were plenty of times when we had our backs against a wall, but we never got over being scared.

  “Don’t stop, change course, or try to run back to the boat once we get going,” said Hampton. “Let’s go.”

  The first infected to step out onto the path ahead of us was so far away that we forgot there would be more before we reached it. As soon as it saw us running straight at it, it moved our way. Less than half way to it, the path suddenly filled with them.

  Hampton almost forgot his own advice as the overwhelming urge to change direction caused him to veer slightly to the right. Instinct made him do it, but discipline forced him to straighten out their forward charge again. The discipline saved him.

  Cassandra glanced back quickly to be sure everyone was still with her, and that she wasn’t charging into the mob of infected all by herself. She saw Hampton swerve slightly and swung her head back around to the right just in time to see that Hampton was only inches from the waiting arms and teeth of two infected.

  She hadn’t survived on the Mercy ship for as long as she did by being afraid to use unconventional methods. Her machete would have saved Hampton from one of the clutching pair of hands, but not the other. She lowered her right shoulder like a football player and drove it up under the outstretched arm of the infected. It connected squarely with a soft, decayed ribcage, and the infected was launched sideways into a row of them that had suddenly appeared from the trees.

  On the back right side, Jean swung high at the nearest head, but her machete found nothing but air because they had all fallen like dom
inos. She was surprised by the disappearance of her target, but she was ready to deliver a vicious backhand on her next target because her long swinging forehand had set it up so well. She caught one just as it stepped forward, and half of the head disintegrated under her swing.

  Tom felt helpless as he watched the events unfold around him. Instead of carrying a stretcher, he wanted to be swinging deadly blows at the infected. Still, he was impressed by the women in our group. He didn’t know how they did it, but they seemed to be able to anticipate the places where the next infected would appear.

  Colleen had a difficult moment when three stepped onto the path. The Chief had described a similar situation when he had faced three in a grocery store, and I knew her only chance with this group would be to control the one leading the pack.

  In what appeared to be one single motion, Colleen slid her machete into her belt and used both hands to reach for the first of the infected, grab its forearms, and spin it around toward the other two. She pushed it right between the shoulder blades, and it disappeared back into the trees on top of the second one. Before it was even out of the way, the machete had reappeared in her hand, and her backswing caught the third one just above the jawline.

  Jean and I both had our hands full at the same time, and I desperately wanted to help her, but I couldn’t leave the left flank undefended. We both kept running and swinging, and I didn’t even notice when we reached the lighthouse.

  Cassandra took the lead and went straight through the lighthouse door. Finding it unlocked was such a small blessing after everything else we had been through.

  “Clear,” she yelled from inside.

  Colleen dropped back to join me and Jean as we made room for Hampton and Tom to go through the door to safety. There were two steps up to the door, and Tom stumbled when he hit them, but our forward momentum caused everyone to all land inside.

  No one had to tell the rest of us to get inside, and we kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind us. It was totally dark for a moment until Cassandra’s flashlight clicked on. She had one hand over the bright end of it so she could limit drawing attention to the light, but it was enough for us to see that we had not found ourselves in bad company.

  The room was a stucco side-building attached to the lighthouse, and it was little more than a mud room. A set of steps in one corner led to a second wooden door that was closed. Hopefully, the first floor of the lighthouse would also be as hospitable as the mud room.

  “Anybody scratched or bitten?” asked Hampton.

  We all started feeling along our own arms and legs to see if there were any injuries, and we had done pretty good considering we had just run a gauntlet.

  “It’s hard to tell what’s new and what’s old,” said Jean. “I got so many cuts and scrapes from flying onto the beach that I can’t tell.”

  I knew she would need to be checked by someone other than me. We had made it a rule. When we inspected for bites, it had to be done by someone other than a spouse, relative, boyfriend, or girlfriend. Cassandra and Colleen both took Jean off to one corner where they took turns checking each other.

  “I have to admit,” said Hampton, “you guys can be really bad when you have to be. There can’t be many people left alive who could have made that run and come out in one piece.”

  Tom said, “You should have seen it from my end. It’s a sick feeling to be the caboose on a train that can’t stop. You ladies up front were scaring me half to death.”

  Jean added as the ladies finished their injury inspections, “I have a feeling we’re all going to be even more scared when we’re able to see outside from up above. If there were that many infected between us and the lighthouse, how many are on this strip of land?”

  It was a sobering thought, but it reminded us all that we weren’t done yet. We needed to get into the main part of the lighthouse to see if there was a functioning radio, and to be able to assess our situation. A view from above might be useless until dawn, but we also needed to find out if the rest of the lighthouse was safe.

  Jean checked Bus to be sure he was still with us, and she reported his condition hadn’t changed. A lump had appeared on one side of his head, and that at least explained why he was still unconscious.

  “He must’ve turned away at the last second before we hit,” she said. “He has some big bruises on his ribcage, too. I’ll stay here with him while you guys go check things out. We wouldn’t want him to wake up while we’re gone.”

  Jean got comfortable next to Bus, and I gave her a hug.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I could use the rest, anyway. Getting thrown from the boat was like getting shot out of a canon. I feel like everything hurts.”

  We made sure the door was going to stay shut and then added a large storage locker just to be sure. We dragged it over to the door after inspecting its contents and finding nothing really useful. There were some metal pipe fittings that were made out of heavy brass, but unless we could drop them on the heads of the infected, the best thing we could use them for was to leave them in the locker against the door.

  We all listened at the door for a moment, and it sounded like the steps outside were overflowing with the infected.

  Hampton listened at the door to the next room for a long time and then gently turned the handle. It was also unlocked, but when he pushed on the door, it didn’t budge.

  “Give me a hand, Tom. I think someone barricaded the door on the other side just like we did.”

  It was hard for them to get enough leverage, but the door very slowly moved inward. A gap appeared along the left side, and Tom held his flashlight up to the dark line and shone the light into the room. He was just saying he couldn’t see anything when purple fingers grabbed the flashlight.

  There must not have been air moving on the other side of the door because the smell didn’t reach us in time for anyone to warn Tom. When it poured through the gap, everyone gagged, and Hampton pulled the door shut.

  “What in Hell died in there?” asked Hampton through gasps. “I didn’t think there was anything left in the world that could stink worse than what we’ve already smelled, but that’s something new.”

  “I have to agree,” said Cassandra. “When I had to climb down into the ship and go past crew’s berthing, I thought I would never get that smell off of me, but whatever it is that died on the other side of that door, it must have been special.”

  “It’s probably just because there’s no ventilation,” I said, “but we still have to go through there.”

  “I have an idea,” said Jean. “Did I see some old newspapers and stuff in there with those brass couplings?”

  Cassandra was the nearest to the storage locker, so she checked inside.

  “Yeah, there’s a stack of them. Why?”

  Jean walked over and picked up some paper and a piece of brass about the size of a baseball and immediately began pushing the paper into the coupling.

  “I don’t have a clue what this piece of pipe was used for before, but today it’s going to be an air freshener. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I prefer the smell of burning paper over the smell of……well, whatever that is in there.”

  Colleen said, “Aren’t you afraid it will set the lighthouse on fire?”

  Hampton said, “The fire should stay inside the pipe and burn out before it could set fire to anything.”

  Jean got three of the pipes ready and got close to the door.

  “Ed, you can light these for me one at a time as I hold them out to you. Tom, you can push the door just far enough for me to push these through. Hampton, the infected will go after a burning pipe, so you can shoot them when they get in view from the door. With any luck, we can clear the room from here.”

  Jean paused for a moment as if she was waiting for something. We were all in position and ready to do our part as soon as she gave the word.

  “Come on, guys. Isn’t anyone going to say that was a good pun or something? You know, like clear the room and cle
ar the air?”

  “I knew it,” said Tom. “She’s been spending too much time around the Chief.”

  Something groaned on the other side of the door, and Jean said, “At least someone got it.”

  She held out one of the pipes, and I lit one end. She held it until it was getting enough air flowing through it to keep burning then nodded at Tom. He pushed the door open just far enough, and Jean shoved it through the opening hard enough to make it roll across the dark room on the other side.

  The infected on the other side of the door followed the rolling pipe. Small embers were trailing behind it, but they were burning out as expected.

  Nothing tried to fill the gap in the door as the burning pipe rolled to the far side of the room, so Jean held the second one out to me. She was right. The smell of burning paper was better.

  She shoved the second one through, and as the infected turned and came back to it, Hampton took his shot. The bullet knocked the infected clear out of our field of vision, and we didn’t have much choice but to keep going.

  This time Tom pushed harder on the door as I lit the pipe, and Jean was able to throw it to a different spot because of the increasing gap between the door and the frame. Nothing went after it, so Tom and Hampton both pushed against the door together. Something heavy slid out of the way.

  Jean dropped back behind Hampton and Tom as we all clicked on our flashlights. Tom retrieved his from the floor nearby, and we went in with our weapons ready.

  “Just as we expected,” said Tom. “No open windows, and there’s another door up there.”

  A staircase went up one floor and came to an abrupt end at another door. I think all of us studied the door with the same feeling, and our shoulders slumped. It was pretty good odds that the infected we had just killed had been trapped in this level of the lighthouse by someone who had retreated to the level above.