by John Ringo
"Yes," Anna said after a puzzled moment.
"I'm sorry for that," Sophia said. "That's hard. I've never had to do it but...Plenty of people have. Our chief had to strangle his wife."
"Colonel had to kill his wife and kids," Faith said, shrugging. "I was wondering why you sort of ran off. But I told Rapunzel: What happens in the compartment, stays in the compartment. We were talking about whether that's different 'cause we're on land instead of a boat. But...we're not going to bring charges or anything. Hell, I'd be up for so many murder charges at this point you'd have to have a really big computer to figure them all out."
"I'm credited with saving over two thousand people at sea," Sophia said. "My thuggish sister here is credited with probably two or three times that number of kills."
"Never strangled one, though," Faith said, shrugging. "I've always got knives and guns to go around."
"Halligan tool," Sophia said.
"Machete."
"Axe."
"Crow bar."
"So...what do I do now?" Anna said. She seemed deflated.
"Three days grace, then you see if there's anything you're good at," Sophia said softly. "Clean compartments if that's all you can do. Or go in with the sick, lame and lazy who aren't willing to help. And we need all the help we can get. But...you're famous and everything. I mean, I'm a really big fan. But...that was then. It's about what you do now that counts. Now."
"Okay," Anna said.
"And right now what you need to do is get on the Zodiac, ma'am," Sophia said, shaking her hand again. "Keep the faith. You survived. That's important. There still aren't many of us."
They waved as the boat left, then Faith turned to Sophia.
"Thuggish?" she said.
"It means a person who is a brute," Sophia said. "A murderer..."
"I know what it means!" Faith said. "Thuggish? Seriously? You think I'm thuggish? Thank you! You've never said anything so nice..." She sniffed theatrically. "Gunnery Sergeant!"
"Ma'am?" Gunny Sands said.
"I need wheels, Gunnery Sergeant," Faith bellowed. "Your boss has a delicate figure that is disinclined to walking. Think of me as a tottering little celebrity in high heels. You will find me a working vehicle on this island. Oorah?"
"Oorah, ma'am!"
"In the meantime, it is...what's that thing about personal carriers?"
"Leather personnel carriers, ma'am?"
"Leather personnel carriers it is, Gunny. Oorah?"
"Oorah, ma'am."
"Move out."
"I have never hated a fucking island more," Faith said as a tall, distinguished and very thin man walked up with an angry expression on his face. Before he could even open his mouth, Faith made a lightning draw and put the barrel in the man's face.
"If you say 'Do you know who I am?' I swear I will pull the trigger," she said, then holstered the weapon. "No, I don't know who you are. No, I don't care who you are. I wouldn't care if you were the God-damned President of the United States. We have one car, it is purely for people who are too far gone to walk and you are not in that category. I am walking. You are walking. Gunny! Get this idiot out of my face...!"
"Before you even start," Sergeant Major Barney bellowed. "No, we do not know who you are! No, we do not bloody well care. Unless you're a prince of the blood royal, of Britain mind you, I really do not care. Follow bloody damned directions, even if it's from the snotty driving the bloody Zodiac, and you'll all come out right and tight. If you would prefer, and we certainly do, we will issue you a weapon and a magazine of ammunition and you can take your chances with the bloody infected on the island. Takers? No? Then line the fuck up and shut your stupid mouths!"
"Oh, my God," Faith said, almost squealing. "I know who he is!"
"Is that...?" Sergeant Smith said.
"I have always appreciated the brave men and women who protect our nation," Harold Chrysler said, shaking Faith's hand. "But never has my heart been more filled with the pride of being an American than today. It is an honor to shake your hand, Lieutenant." He'd played a president in more than one film and had the presence to pull the line off.
"It's...uh...Oorah, sir," Faith said. She realized she was getting ready to babble and cleared her throat. "It's an honor as well, sir. Big fan, big fan."
"I'm honored," Chrysler said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Uh...oorah?" Faith said. "Sir?"
"Try to help herd the cats, sir?" Sergeant Smith said, thumbing towards the civilians. "We have got to keep them in the perimeter and not straggling or scattering..." There was a shot from the rear and the gunny bellowed: "STAY ON SECTOR."
"'Cause of, well, that, sir," Faith said, regaining her composure. "They keep...not staying in the perimeter. Which means if they get too far out, they're in the target zones. And they keep bugging the Marines who need to stay on alert and not answering questions. I swear, they've got no more sense of survival than a baby duck."
"The wealthy and powerful, even after all they have been through, tend to believe that they are invincible because of 'who they are,'" Chrysler said. "I have no such illusions, but I grew up a working stiff." He leaned forward to whisper in Faith's ear. "I don't suppose I could borrow a pistol?"
"Round in the chamber, sir," Faith said, ripping one of her chest carries out.
"In the chamber?" Chrysler said, pulling back the slide just far enough to check. He carefully slipped the safety on as well.
"It's a zombie apocalypse, sir," Faith said. "I'd appreciate it if you don't use it to herd the cats, though, sir. I've had to draw more than once but that's me, sir. I can get away with it."
"I'll keep that in mind, Lieutenant," Harold said, slipping the H&K into the waistband of his jeans. "Is there any news from the States?"
"I'll put it in perspective, sir," Sergeant Smith said. "You're looking at sixty percent of the total manning of the United States Marine Corps, sir. The LT is number six in line of succession from the commandant. And she's thirteen."
"Almost fourteen!" Faith snapped.
"Oh, God," Chrysler said, breathing deeply. "I thought...I thought maybe this was just what was available for such a minor... This is all?"
"Yes, sir," Smitty said softly. "I was on the Iwo Jima, sir. We lost it to the infected till the LT and her dad came in and pulled us out."
"Sir, we need to get going," Faith said. "You'll get some time off at the boats. We'll have to cover the questions there."
"I understand," Harold said, shaking her hand again. "Again, thank you for your service. And you as well, Sergeant. I'll go do what I can about the baby ducks..."
"Why can't they all be that way?" Faith asked.
"Like he said, ma'am," Smitty said. "Born a working stiff."
"I guess," Faith said. "Gunnery Sergeant! Get this wagon train a-movin'!"
"Aye, aye, ma'am. YOU HEARD THE SKIPPER! MOVE OUT...!"
CHAPTER 25
"...cleared a big grocery warehouse in Mandan. The zombies are still hanging in there in downtown Bismarck somehow. Go around if you're coming in from the east. And bring all the ammo and guns..."
From: Collected Radio Transmissions of The Fall
University of the South Press 2053
"How is the clearance going, Colonel?" Steve asked.
He generally touched base with the Kodiak Force once a day in the evening to keep abreast of progress.
"In action terms, just fine, sir," Colonel Hamilton said. "That being said, I'm starting to regret not skipping to primary targets."
"Problems?" Steve said.
"No casualties or injuries, sir, thank God," Hamilton said, knocking the surface of his desk. "And we're about to suspend operations. Island has been pretty much swept for survivors. Still a fair infected presence but just the usual. All that is fine, sir. The survivors, however..."
"Pregnant pause there, Colonel," Steve said. "Not the usual odds and sods?"
"About half are, call it 'labor,'" Hamilton said. "Island residents. Hote
l staff. One facilities engineer which is pretty much the cream of the crop. The rest are...If I hear the words 'Do you know who I am' one more time, sir, I swear I am going to kill that person."
"Oh," Steve said, putting his hand over his mouth to cover a smile.
"I had to station Decker and Condrey outside the door to keep them from interrupting this meeting, sir," Hamilton said. "With orders to be as polite as possible and as violent as necessary. I suspect you are going to get a fair number of complaints, sir."
"No, I'm not," Steve said. "I have people. But I understand your problems, Colonel. I even have a potential solution."
"Other than slapping the hell out of them, sir?" Hamilton asked. "One of the complaints I fielded was on the subject of your daughter using very nearly deadly force in one case."
"Why am I not surprised?" Steve said. "She had, it seems prehistory now, experience dealing with the same sort of folk during the Fall and used much the same approach. Do you have an issue with that?"
"I told the complainant that based upon their attitude and tone that I was equally unsurprised, sir," Hamilton said. "Then I told them I used to be an interrogator at Guantanamo and asked them if they really wanted to get on my bad side. I apologize, sir. It just slipped out; I was that frustrated."
"How'd that work?" Steve asked.
"They shut right the hell up and walked away, sir," Hamilton said.
"Dare I hope we got more than the usual one to two percent?" Steve asked. "Even if they are a handful?"
"No, sir," Hamilton said, shaking his head. "Just short of eighty so far. Bit over one percent."
"Christ," Steve said, shaking his head. "If you had asked me, Colonel, pre-Plague, if it was possible to essentially wipe out the human race I'd have laughed at you. And this hasn't but...Christ almighty."
"Yes, sir," Hamilton said.
"I don't suppose any of them preferred to stay?" Steve asked.
"None apparently, sir," Hamilton said. "There is a real dearth of what you might call survivalist types. Despite the fact that the first group rescued were the female survivors from Celebrity Survivor: St. Barts. We have determined that the males all succumbed to the virus."
"That is so...wrong," Steve said.
"There isn't a single person with anything resembling military training, LEO or even paramilitary, sir," Hamilton said. "There are only a few with the vaguest familiarity with firearms. And as I noted, there is still a noticeable infected presence, sir. They have one and all declined to stay on the island. The only one who might have been willing to fight it out is both...elderly and an American citizen who has requested repatriation. Most of them don't think much of the boats, either, sir."
"Sounds like you're having boatloads of fun," Steve said. "Pardon the pun. I will dispatch a potential solution to your locale tonight, Colonel. I have a specific cat herder for this sort of thing. In the meantime, move on to the next objective as soon as you're ready."
"Yes, sir," Hamilton said.
"Squadron out," Steve said, closing the circuit.
Steve leaned back in his chair and chuckled for a moment.
"'I was an interrogator at Guantanamo Bay,'" he said, imitating Hamilton's Northeastern accent. "'You sure you want to take this up with me? I've still got my waterboard.'" He chuckled again, then bellowed: "ISHAM!"
"You can use the intercom, you know," Isham said over the intercom a second later.
"There are times I just prefer to yell," Steve said. "Got to get some fun out of this job. Speaking of which... Tell Ernie he has ten minutes to pack. He's going on a tropical island cruise..."
Faith set her tray down across the mess table from Sophia and leaned on the table with hands spread.
"'Do you know who I am?'" Faith said, looking her sister in the eye angrily.
"Oh!" Sophia said, holding her hands up as if to strangle someone. "Do NOT get me started!"
"But I met Harold Chrysler!" Faith squealed. Quietly.
"Me too!" Sophia said, bouncing in her seat. "And he was so--"
"COOL!" they both squealed.
"Most of the rest sucked ass, though," Faith said, sitting down.
"Oh, God, yeah," Sophia said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. "You might want to check on your troops, though. Christy Southard was last seen trying to find out where the Marine barracks were at."
"I think I'm going to consider that an NCO issue," Faith said, tasting a bite of dolphin. Which was not bad. "Although I'm not sure how the gunny will react. I'd say 'Let 'em at it.' They deserve some pussy after this mission."
"Good God, Sis," Sophia said, chuckling. "Being a Marine just so suits you. At least tell 'em to use a condom--" She stopped and gulped down her food. "Oh, hi..."
"Am I interrupting?" Anna Holmes asked.
"I didn't think this was mess time for the civilians," Faith said. "But grab a chair."
"That means no, you're not," Sophia said. "How did you get in?"
"The guard on the door was a fan," Anna said, shrugging and smiling. "And I told him I knew you and you wouldn't mind."
"Technically, I should ream his ass," Faith said, taking another bite of dolphin. "But again, I'm gonna let it slide. I don't mind and it has been one bitch of a day."
"Fighting your way across the island must have been tough," Anna said worriedly.
"Oh, that was a picnic," Faith said, shrugging. "I'm starting to think I prefer liners to the land, though. Fricking infected come out of nowhere on the land. But it wasn't like there was a heavy concentration..."
"You're welcome," Sophia said.
"Yeah, Sis," Faith said. "Thanks. Go Navy. But it was the uninfected who were the pain."
"'I'm the Chairman of the Board of...' some company I've never heard of," Sophia said. "'I'm the mother of...'"
"Rapunzel had it together compared to most of them," Faith said.
"I have to keep stopping myself from calling Julianna Rapunzel," Anna said, snorting in a ladylike fashion. "It shouldn't be so funny."
"Well, she's a princess," Faith said, ticking points off on her fingers. "And she was trapped on top of a building..."
"Oh, I got the reference," Anna said, laughing. "We all did. Except Christy but it was a bit complicated for her. She'll probably start laughing anywhere from a day to a week from now. May I bring up a delicate subject?"
"Go," Faith said.
"If it's the thing about..." Sophia said. "The compartment..."
"I read the brochure," Anna said. "I am still...troubled."
"Try seeing bleeding bodies in your sleep every night," Faith said. "Although, I suspect you've got your own nightmares."
"Yes," Anna said quietly. "I do."
"When you want to talk about it, come see me," Faith said, taking another bite. "And, yes, there's a reason. My da actually covered the omerta with us before we ever got into this."
"The omerta?" Anna asked. "Like a Mafia secret?"
"There is a secret known only to people who have taken lives in violence," Sophia said. "And if you're not part of that group, you're not let in on the omerta. Unless your da happens to be one of them and wants you prepared as you can be in case you have to. And even then he approaches it delicately. Short version: Know all those feelings you've got? To say 'you're not alone' is an understatement."
"Tell me about it," Faith said. "There's a reason I do what I do, Anna. Lots of reasons. And you know most of them, now. You wouldn't have, literally couldn't have, understood them back when you were a nice little famous actress from a liberal background. If I'd talked about them to you, you'd have called the cops. Now...you're already in the omerta. Honestly, I like you better now that you're part of the sisterhood. What you don't know is how to cope with them. So...when you're ready, we'll talk. Or Soph, if you feel more comfortable."
"Okay," Anna said, still unsure. "When I'm ready I will. But I don't think you really know what I'm thinking."
"Bet you a dollar," Sophia said, leaning over and whispering in her ear.
"I wish you hadn't said that," Anna said, grimacing.
"There's ways to handle it, Anna," Sophia said. "There are ways to deal with it. And the payment is when it's your time to talk to somebody about the omerta, you bring them in on it."
"Make it soon," Faith said. "Otherwise it gets to be an issue. And you don't want it to get to be an issue. 'Cause you may feel pretty billy badass from your experiences but you're not. The good news is there are three billion zeds on this planet. And even if we can clear all the zeds, then we get brigands and pirates and raiders. War red war is the future of this world for a long time. You ain't done by a long shot."
"What's the other delicate subject?" Sophia asked.
"I asked about enlisting," Anna said. "And I was told that as a British subject, I couldn't."
"There, right there," Faith said, grinning and knife-handing her. "That is the omerta. Reenlistment rates in Iraq were sometimes one hundred percent. And now you know why. Like I said, welcome to the sisterhood."
"I hope it's not that," Anna said. "Really?"
"Don't listen to her," Sophia said, shaking her head. "My sister has her uses..."
"Opening jars for you..." Faith said.
"But she is fucking nuts," Sophia said. "You're not her. I'm not her. Take those feelings, add in a barely controlled vicious streak and then pump up the bass."
"Oh, yeah," Faith said, grinning ferally. "This is the only world where I really fit."
"I'll talk to the chain of command about it," Sophia said. "There are waivers for everything. And you can work my boat until we get some determination. Which means you'll be around two almost sane members of the sisterhood."
"Wait," Faith said. "You think I'm less sane than Olga?"
"Faith, I think you're less sane than Charles Manson..."
CHAPTER 26
"The Trans-Canada highway is clear of infected from Wawa to Thunder Bay. Long ride on a snowmobile, ey? But at least the Mounties weren't on me for speeding..."