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World of Corpses (Book 1): World of Corpses

Page 13

by Cook, Scott W.


  “Hey,” Andrea said beaming, “She handles a rifle pretty good.”

  Tony winked, “Yeah, maybe I’ll see if there’s anything else long, hard and black she’d like to get her hands on.”

  “You’re a sick fuck,” Andrea said as she laughed.

  “You love me,” Tony quipped.

  “True.”

  It was good to hear them laugh, and to laugh myself, for that matter. We needed that now more than ever.

  We entered Salt Creek and then through the breakwater that surrounded Harborage. We pulled the three boats up to J dock, the southernmost floating dock that connected the outer eastern side of the breakwater with the seawall at the western side of the marina. My thinking was to keep them a good distance from us just in case.

  “I can’t believe you guys have been living right here this whole time,” Brenda said as we made our way toward C dock.

  “Has a lot of advantages,” I pointed out, “The marina is entirely fenced in, there are limited access points and the docks are easily defended. Plus a whole bunch of boats that were abandoned. Lots of fuel, spare parts, some food and even alcohol, and because we’re on the water, I can make fresh potable water from my boat or a variety of the big yachts here.”

  “You’re also well protected from storms,” Carl commented.

  “Yeah,” I replied, “Thankfully there weren’t’ any major hurricanes this year, but we did get a bit of a tropical storm back in late September. No big deal though, a little wind, lot of rain and a bit of wave action.”

  “This is actually a great location,” Tara said. She walked next to Andy with her arm in his. There was definitely something strong there.

  “Next best thing to a fort,” Tony noted.

  “Okay, here we are,” I said, indicating my Erwin 50-five, “Home sweet home.”

  “Nice boat,” Brenda commented.

  “Thanks,” I said, “She’s been a good home. Now obviously, while we could all fit aboard, a lot of the extra space is taken up with stores. However, as you can see, there’s a shit ton of boats here you all can live on for the time being, if you want to. In fact, that big motor yacht on the T head right there is roomy, has a fully charged battery bank and about two-thirds of a tank of diesel. More than enough to run the genny for a long time. Plenty of room for you guys and she’s got a water maker and we’ve already loaded some supplies on board.”

  “Nice,” Carl said with a grin.

  “Yeah,” Brenda said, “A bedroom for everybody.”

  Tara shot Andy a look and smiled, “And we’ll be neighbors, too.”

  “She’ll probably need a little TLC,” I continued, “She’s been pretty much closed up since the summer, and might need a good bleach clean just in case there’s any mold. I can help you to get the AC running too if you need it. Might be a good idea to fire up the engines and the big diesel genny and run the heavy electrical stuff just to get it going again. The weather is nice, so you might also want to open all the hatches and air her out.”

  “Sounds like a project,” Carl said, “but what about Mark and his… gang, I guess.”

  “We’re going to scope him out tonight,” I replied, “And see what needs to be done.”

  “Good,” Brenda said, “I personally want a chance to put a bullet into that fuckhead. Hector was a good man…”

  Tony coughed slightly. I took in a breath, “That’s something we need to talk about. Why don’t you all come aboard and let’s crack a beer over it.”

  After settling into the cockpit with a round of Corona’s, I got the meeting started and figured I’d better get right to the point.

  “I think it’s best to lay the cards on the table right from the get go,” I began, “You guys aren’t really qualified for a real firefight.”

  “We’ve been fragging zombies for months,” Carl protested.

  “I know,” I returned, holding up a hand, “And I congratulate you on staying alive so far. But fighting other people with weapons is an entirely different ball game. I’m not saying you aren’t capable at all… but we’re professional military. I’d prefer to keep this team small and confined to those with combat experience.”

  “So the three of us are just supposed to sit here drinking beers while you guys clean up our mess?” Brenda asked.

  I nodded, “Not the three of you…”

  “Oh, here it comes…” I heard Andy mumble.

  Andrea grimaced but looked at her son, “We’d like you to stay with the new folks as backup, kid.”

  Andy’s face went a little red. He snorted, “So all of that lieutenant stuff was just blowing smoke up my six, then? If there’s real work to do, I stay back and stay safe. Still just the ‘kid’ right, mom?”

  Andy stood and stepped through the entry port and stalked off down the dock. Andrea got up to go after him but I held up my hand, “Let him go.”

  Andrea sat reluctantly down, ‘I’m surprised at him.”

  “You are?” Tony asked, “For such a sharp lady, you sure don’t get the male ego – especially a young man’s.”

  Andrea looked puzzled.

  “You called him kid,” I said, “And in front of his woman to boot. At least I think you are, Tara?”

  She smiled and nodded, “Yes… I guess I am.”

  “Shit…” Andrea said, “Tara, it’s not because I think he’s a kid and not a man…”

  “You don’t’ have to tell me,” Tara said, “I’m convinced of his manhood. But Andy might not be. Especially around you and me.”

  “Fuck me,” Andrea said, lightly slapping her forehead, “I should know better. It’s just that I always call him kid. It’s not meant to belittle him. I’d better go talk to him.”

  “Wait,” Tara said raising a hand, “Why do you want him to stay behind? I get us, we’re not trained, but Andy seems to be able to handle himself and you guys have trained him. He did pretty damned good when Mark shot at us. Andy reacted fast and kept his head.”

  I sighed, “Partly it’s because his mom doesn’t want him to get into a firefight. I get that, but I don’t agree.”

  Andrea looked at me with what was almost a glare but not quite, “Sam… it’s one thing to shoot zombies. It’s another for him to kill a living person…”

  “Sorry, babe,” I said, “But he’s got to learn sometime. I agree with you that his taking a life is a big difference and it’s distasteful. Sooner or later, and I’d have to guess sooner, Andy is going to have to kill to protect his life or someone else’s. That sucks, it really does… but that’s the world now.”

  Andrea sighed and closed her eyes, “I know, Sam… but is it wrong for me to want to protect him from that as long as I can?”

  “No,” I said gently, “yet whether we like it or not… Andy deserves a shot, literally. Mark opened up on him and probably because of him. I think Andy has the right to engage. However, it’s also that I’d like a trained member of my group to stay with you guys. If something happens, he’s in charge and can help take care of things.”

  Tara nodded and bit her lower lip, “Yeah… then let me talk to him, Andrea.”

  “You think you can?” she asked.

  Tara smirked, “Oh, I think I can be quite persuasive.”

  Andrea grinned, “You go girl. Okay, give it a try.”

  Tara carried her beer down the steps and she walked briskly after Andy.

  “I’m pretty sure she wants to get in his pants,” Brenda told Andrea.

  Andrea laughed, “I’m sure too. Frankly, I think it’d be good for him. A rite of passage, as it were. It would help solidify his confidence. Besides, she seems like a good girl.”

  “She is,” Carl said, “When this shit hit the fan Tara was right there helping out. Always ready to do her share and then some.”

  We chatted for a few minutes until Andy and Tara walked back holding hands. Tara grinned at us and said, “The Lieutenant has something to say.”

  Andy came to attention, cleared his throat and said, “If y
ou need me to stand guard, I’m willing, sir.”

  “Good man,” I said, waving them aboard, “I’d really like somebody I can count on here, L T. We don’t know if Mark and his goons are still at Waterside, and if they should find this place…”

  “Understood,” Andy said stiffly.

  Andrea put her arm around him when he sat down, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like a kid, kid.”

  Andy smiled slightly, “Yeah, Tara explained that.

  “Glad to see that we’re one big happy family again,” I said, “then once the sun goes down, we’re going in.”

  We parked the truck on Lewis Avenue, one of the two roads that led over the two bridges to Coquina key. As usual, the silence was palpable.

  “No G’s around,” Andrea commented.

  “Yeah,” I said in a low voice as I checked the load on my AK and lowered the night vision goggles over my eyes, “Brenda said they’d pretty much cleaned up the island. More could walk over the bridges, and occasionally do, but other than that and any zombies in houses they haven’t scavenged yet… it’s pretty dead around here.”

  “That supposed to be funny?” Tony asked as he loaded a forty round magazine and charged his H & K mp7. He’d opted for the lighter machine pistol instead of the big clunky Kalashnikov. It was a good infiltration weapon. We’d used them a lot on SEAL missions.

  I chuckled, “No pun intended. Everybody good?”

  I got nods from them both. They looked like something out of a sci-fi movie with their glowing bug eyes.

  The Waterside community was located at the end of Beach drive and it’s once twenty-four hour manned guardhouse stood about fifty feet from where Dolphin intersected Beach. The shack was empty, of course, and the gates were closed.

  “How do we get in?” Tony asked.

  We walked up to the two large gates that opened onto the entry and exit roads. The entry gate opened in, and was held by its hydraulics. We tried pushing it but it didn’t budge.

  The exit gate opened out, and when we walked over, we could see a large bit of chain had been wrapped around it. There was a small walk-in gate on the sidewalk that was also wrapped up with chain.

  “They would pull the chain off and manually swing the gate out,” I said, “The walking gate is open too, but it looks like you’d spend twenty minutes unraveling that mess.”

  Why don’t we follow the fence along to a neighboring property and either climb it or swing around on the seawall?” Andrea asked.

  “We could,” I said, “We could’ve driven a boat in too, except for the noise. But since nobody is guarding the entrance… why not use the direct approach.”

  So we did. Tony cut the chain on the vehicle exit gate with a heavy duty set of bolt cutters and we slipped inside the grounds.

  The community was very large with more than six hundred units in the form of townhomes and first and second floor condos. The property had once been an apartment complex until somebody bought it and turned it into condominiums in the 2000’s.

  When it was alive, so to speak, Waterside featured two pools, a gym, laundry facility, tennis, volleyball, shuffleboard, horse shoes, basketball and a putting green. Along the Tampa Bay seawall, a large clubhouse had been constructed next to the bayside pool. The “yacht club” as it was known, held monthly events and even had a small bar on the second floor.

  Even at night through the green filter of the NVG’s, it was obvious how much the once carefully manicured property had gone to pot. The grass was shin-high, the bushes were no longer neat and trim and here and there waist-high weed plants were sprouting randomly from the spacious lawns.

  “Look at all of this open grass area,” Andrea commented as we walked through the parking lot in front of the first set of buildings that paralleled Waterside’s section of Beach drive, “They could’ve planted some crops out there and maybe even gathered some livestock. Think about it, a community surrounded by a seven foot spiked fence with acres of open grassland. I’ll bet you could plant enough for a dozen people and keep enough cattle and chickens and pigs in here to sustain you indefinitely.”

  “Not to mention six hundred units to scavenge,” Tony added.

  “Yeah,” I said sadly, “And you’ve got the advantage of having plenty of protected water access to boot. This would actually be a great compound. Might need a little fortification, but still…”

  We walked along in silence for a bit. The place had a desolate feeling, as most did these days. There were some crickets and a few night birds, but none of the lights were on, of course. And there were no other signs of living people anywhere.

  We got to the end of the third building and turned left onto the sidewalk that ran along Cobia Drive. We stopped when we got to the canal on our side and peered along it.

  “This is the canal where they lived,” I said, pointing down the long waterway, “Their units are on that side, on Coquina Key drive.”

  “I don’t see anybody,” Tony commented.

  “No,” Andrea said, “Me either. Must be inside.”

  “They could be anywhere,” I stated, “But they’re all probably at their one unit. No guards, no nothing. You’d think they’d be expecting us.”

  We walked on until we reached the other side of the hundred foot wide canal. We peeked around the building and saw no one in the street in either direction.

  “Okay,” I said, “let’s fan out. Major, you take the left flank along the canal. Commander, you take the seawall side of the buildings across the street, starting at the yacht club. I’ll move down the center. We’ll sweep all the way to the end of the street and to those perpendicular buildings along the other section of canal that leads to the bay. We’ll rendezvous and then make our way to the units we know they’re occupying as a group. Squawk radio checks every two minutes, standard code. Move out.”

  It was hard not to fall into military habit when we were on an operation. It just came naturally and I think Tony and Andrea appreciated it too. We were warriors, through and through. Especially Tony and I. It gave us focus.

  I was moving swiftly and silently along the sidewalk. Most of the parking spaces were empty. No big surprise. A good number of the people who lived here were snowbirds. The year round residents had probably bugged out once the shit had hit the fan. It was more surprising to see cars than not, really.

  It was pretty obvious where Brenda and Carl’s group lived. A small group of vehicles, including Mark’s Harley and the box truck were grouped together about two-thirds of the way down in front of one of the town house buildings.

  “Bingo,” I whispered to myself.

  My headset crackled, “Choctaw one, Choctaw 2.”

  That was Andrea. I depressed my talk button on the radio unit clipped to my waistband, “I read.”

  “Three men just stepped out onto the upper balcony of one of the town houses,” Andrea reported.

  “I.D.?” I asked.

  A pause, “One is Mark.”

  “Roger that,” I replied, “Are you under cover?”

  “Roger,” She whispered.

  “Hold position,” I ordered, “Choctaw three, continue sweep. Rendezvous as discussed. Choctaw two, maintain. Fire only if fired upon.”

  There were two rapid clicks and a second later three rapid clicks. Both had acknowledged with their number.

  I sped up my pace and trotted to the end of the street and around to the back of the north facing building. I saw Tony emerge at the other end. He spotted me and trotted over.

  “They’re all together just hanging out like nothing happened,” Tony said, “What the fuck?”

  “Idiots,” I said, “And like idiots, they’ll pay for their stupidity.”

  I depressed the talk button, “Choctaw two, one and three in position. Ready to prosecute targets. Wait forty-five seconds and open fire. To distract only.”

  Two clicks.

  Tony looked at me, “What do we do once we get in?”

  “Take them out,” I said coldly.
>
  “Damn, Sharky,” Tony said, “Pretty cold.”

  “Fuck em’,” I said, “They’ve made their intentions clear. They could’ve killed Andy this afternoon. As far as I’m concerned, their belligerent and fair targets.”

  Tony nodded, “Agreed.”

  We stood at the front door to forty-eight-sixty-one. It was locked, of course, and Tony took careful aim at the dead bolt. After only a few seconds, we heard the chatter of Andrea’s Uzi and shouting from the other side of the building.

  Tony squeezed off two rounds from his silenced H&K and we opened the door.

  The first floor was empty and even from the front door which opened onto the stairs and a hallway, I could see that the place was a cluttered shambles. And it stunk. The smell of old food, mildew and feet were clearly evident.

  Tony pushed past me and took the steps two at a time. The upstairs was pretty simple. A bedroom that faced the street and the bigger one that faced the canal. A bathroom stood in between and was empty.

  We entered the master bedroom and could see the three idiots out on the ten by ten balcony. Two were lying on the composite decking, trying to stick rifle barrels between the wooden railing stanchions. Mark was shouting and he turned to the open door and saw us.

  The bedroom was just as cluttered as the first floor. A camping lantern burned brightly on a dresser near the back wall and clearly illuminated Tony and I. Both of us had slid our NVG’s on top of our heads so we had a better field of vision when we entered the house.

  I know that I’d said we were just going to enter and kill everyone… but when I saw that we weren’t being targeted, I held off. I didn’t have to worry about Tony. We’d worked together on live ops long enough for him to virtually be able to read my mind.

  If they attacked, we’d kill them. Yet I really loathed indiscriminate killing. If I could resolve this another way, I’d at least try.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” I said cheerfully, the whole time holding the send button on the walkie, “Nice night.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Mark had the unbelievable gall to ask.

  “You’re kidding, right?’ Tony half laughed his question.

  “Drop your weapons,” I ordered.

 

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