World of Corpses (Book 1): World of Corpses

by Cook, Scott W.

  He pulled the fish out of the sink and laid the filets on a plate. He brushed a little olive oil on them and sprinkled the rest of the herbs on too. Then he put a little oil in his hand and picked up the asparagus and kind of rolled them around until they were coated. He put them on the plate and then salt and peppered everything.

  “You’re hands are all oily now,” I commented.

  “Part of the process, cutie-pie,” He said as he washed up, “If you want to really cook, you can’t be afraid to get a little dirty.”

  We went up on deck with the fish and veggies and Andy brushed the grill with olive oil. It was a nice grill, a stainless steel thing that was attached to the railing.

  “Okay, now the magic happens,” He said as we all watched.

  He put the asparagus on one side and closed the lid for a couple of minutes. After that, he opened it up again and set the snapper filets herb side down onto the grill.

  “Dude!” Carl said, “That smells awesome.”

  “Oh my God,” Brenda said with a smile, “Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “I’m Italian on my mom’s side,” Andy explained, “It’s in the genes. Tara, can you bring up that bowl of butter, please?”

  “if that’s half as good as it smells,” Brenda said playfully, “then that ain’t all that’ll be in the jeans!”

  Carl guffawed, “So I really am chopped liver now?”

  Brenda laughed, ‘I was talking about your jeans, honey pie!”

  “Jesus…” I said as I went below. I think Brenda was getting a little tipsy.

  “Well, a good meal is a good meal…” Carl said with a chuckle.

  When I came back, Andy was flipping the filets and rolling the veggies over. I handed him the bowl and he used the brush in it to baste the fish and asparagus with his lemon butter and herb mixture.

  Brenda inhaled deeply, ‘I think I’m in love.”

  “Hands off, lady,” I said with a grin, “He’s mine.”

  “Shit,” Carl said, ‘I think I’m in love!”

  Everybody laughed. Andy turned everything again and brushed the butter on the first side of the fish, let it sit for a minute and then flipped it back over and brushed the original side again. He then took everything off and brought it below.

  So yeah, dinner was the shit. The fish was delish, the asparagus were nicely done and that rice was great. Forget Brenda, I was in love… and I’m not even kidding.

  The assault team, or whatever you want to call them, got back a little after nine. They drove up, walked through the gates and headed down the dock.

  “That was fast,” I said to Andy as we watched them walk up. We were standing on what Andy said was the foredeck of the Sorcerer where we had a pretty good view of things. Brenda and Carl had gone over to our boat and were getting things in order, I guess.

  “How’d it go? Andy asked as Sam, Tony and Andrea walked up.

  It was pretty dark. We weren’t using any exterior lights so as not to attract any attention. They were just three figures in the night.

  “Swell,” Sam said flatly.

  “Are you guys okay?” I asked them.

  “We’re good,” Tony said, “No injuries or anything.”

  “And our quarry?” Andy asked.

  “One dead,” Andrea replied, “Mark and another guy are still alive.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Andy asked indignantly.

  “Nope,” Sam said with a sigh, “We got the drop on them. Your mom had to take the one guy out because even with three weapons trained on him, he tried to bring his rifle to bear from a lying position.”

  “So why didn’t you take care of the other two?” Andy asked.

  “Ethics,” Tony said. I could just make out his smile in the dark, “We couldn’t’ just kill them in cold blood. So Sammy puts them in the truck and drives them out to the Don and lets them go.”

  “What the fuck?” Andy asked. He seemed a little pissed.

  “It wasn’t a gesture of kindness, Andy,” Sam said as he came aboard, “There were zombies in the area. They had no weapons. I gave them a chance, but a slim one at best. I doubt they’ll make it through the night.”

  “Damn…” I said softly.

  Andy grumbled, “Well… I guess that’s fair. I just hope it doesn’t bite us in the ass.”

  Tony laughed, “Yeah. I bet zombie Mark is smarter than live Mark, though.”

  “Did you guys eat?” Andrea asked.

  “Oh my God!” I said, “Fucking Emeril over here made us herb crusted grilled snapper with lemon butter, grilled asparagus and this red onion and rosemary rice.”

  Andrea grinned, “That’s my boy. Any good?”

  “Fantastic!” I said reaching out and rubbing Andy’s back, “I want to thank you for teaching him to cook, Andrea.”

  “Hey, it’s part of the heritage.”

  “There’s some left,” Andy said, “if you guys are hungry. I’m going to take a stroll around the perimeter for a while. You guys chill and you can tell me about it later.”

  “I’ll come too,” I said.

  “Okay, have fun,” Andrea said. She tapped Andy on the shoulder, “And don’t forget you’re on duty.”

  “Yes sir, mom sir,” Andy said with a grin.

  We went down the accommodation stairs and walked up B dock toward the main pier. This marina was pretty well put together. The wet slips were basically in a square area roughly the size of four blocks. There was a high rock wall, a breakwater, on the east and north side with an opening in the north side for boats to come in and out. On top of this was a wide concrete walkway.

  On the mainland side, the west side, you had to pass through a main gate by the office and then go either left or right and through another gate to get down to the floating docks. J dock, the one that connected the west and east sides, had a gate on the office side that you had to go through and there was another entrance on the far southeastern corner.

  I guess the only bad part, in terms of our current situation, was that in order to go from the A through E docks area to J dock, you had to go out by the pool and parking lot. This was wide open and unprotected.

  Andy led me up a gangway to the gate on our side and keyed it open. We let it close softly and went under the office building’s balcony and he opened the main entrance gate. These gates were pretty solid and nearly eight feet high, so they’d be hard to climb and impossible for zombies to go over.

  “Pretty secure place,” I said quietly as we headed toward the pool and grill area toward J dock.

  “Yeah,” Andy said, “But we still like to walk it a couple of times per night. Not when we’re standing watch, though. Usually watches are stood alone, so nobody leaves the boat. We just kind of watch and listen for a few hours and then somebody relieves you. But when everybody’s up, the person on watch will go around once every hour or two and check things out.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  Andy nodded, “Yeah. Not that we expect to find anything. The occasional stink bag hanging out by the fence, but that’s usually been it. But it does let us kind of scope the marina out and make sure everything’s cool.”

  Andy keyed into the gate for J dock and we went in, again, gently closing the gate behind us. I don’t know why, but I got a weird shiver just as we closed the gate. At the time I just figured it was the effect of such utter silence.

  “If you just let most of these close on their own,” Andy explained as we headed down the gangway, “They’ll make a hell of a racket.”

  J dock was kind of funny. It wasn’t perfectly straight but kind of angled to the right and then back east again as we went along. To the left were a few boats, including the three pontoons, and to the right was a small stretch of water, maybe fifteen feet, and then the dense bushes of the shoreline.

  We went up another gang plank that led to the top of the break water and I saw that there was another gate here, although it was propped open. I asked Andy about it.

  “All
these docks out here,” He said, “From F to J, have their own gates, which is pretty cool. Although Sam says that they’ve always been left open.”

  “But another level of security if you wanted it,” I said.

  “True.”

  We went left and walked toward the north end of the breakwater past I, H, G and F docks. At F, the breakwater made a forty-five degree turn and ended in another fifty feet or so.

  We stood at the railing and looked across at what had once been part of the U.S. Coast Guard base. The other half of the base was across the reach to the south, about where I dock met the breakwater.

  “Sad, isn’t it?” Andy asked.

  “I was thinking it was kind of nice,” I said, “Quiet and peaceful.”

  “You’re right,” Andy said, “It’s just that you can tell how things have changed. All these lamp posts along the sidewalk here are dark, for instance. And there’s no sound of life, you know what I mean? The airport is quiet… the USF campus over there is dead… everything is dead.”

  I nodded and put an arm around him, “I know what you mean. It’s even a little creepy. Kiss me before I get the jibblies.”

  “Jibblies?” He asked with a laugh.

  “Yeah, you know,” I said, “Like when you get one of those eerie shivers, and your whole body goes jibbly, jibbly!”

  He laughed and pulled me close and kissed me. At first soft, then more passionately until we were probing each other’s mouths with our tongues and caressing each other urgently. We pulled back a little out of breath.

  “Geez,” Andy said in a huff.

  “Yeah…”

  He blew out his breath and composed himself, “Come on, lets start heading back. You keep kissing me like that and I’m going to shirk my duty.”

  “What? Shake your booty?”

  “I’ll shake your booty,” He said.

  “Promise?”

  “Just say when.”

  “When…”

  He laughed, “Okay, just say when another time when I’m not on patrol.”

  “Kill joy.”

  We walked back toward J dock. When we got to it, Andy kept going.

  “Need to check the south gate,” He said.

  We went the extra hundred and fifty feet or so. A small building sat on the left, what had been the showers for this side of the marina. On the right, beyond the railing of the sidewalk was a long utility building. It was pretty dark in this corner.

  Maybe ten feet from the gate, Andy stopped and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “What—“

  “Sshh…” He hissed.

  We stood stark still for a long moment. At first I didn’t hear anything… and then I did. It was a soft sound and I couldn’t quite figure it out.

  “What is it?” I hissed into his ear.

  That’s when the moaning started. A lot of moans mixed together.

  And I finally realized what the other sounds had been…

  It was the sound of shuffling feet… hundreds of them.

  “Oh, fuck,” Andy whispered and pointed.

  Through the mesh of the gate, we could see a press of ghouls peeking in at us. And they had friends. Lots of them. Andy climbed up on the first rung of the little railing between the restroom building and where we stood - there was a small difference in height.

  “Oh my God…” he said, “They’re everywhere!”

  It was almost like he’d given a signal or something. Because the zombies began to moan and growl and hiss and the ones nearest us started pounding on the gate.

  Chapter 14

  Andrea’s diary – 12/3/2019

  “So what do you think they’re doing?” I asked Sam as we lounged in the cockpit.

  Brenda and Carl had gone over to the big motor boat at the end of the slip and Tony had gone below to get some shut eye before his watch. Sam and I sat together, snuggled up on one of the benches sipping beers and sharing a cigar.

  “Walking the perimeter and checking things out,” Sam said.

  I giggled, ‘Oh yeah? That’s it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “Maybe a little smooching here and there, but no sticky stuff.”

  “Sticky stuff!” I said a little loud. I think the beers were getting to me.

  “Yeah, you know,” Sam put his hands in front of me. He made a circle with his left index finger and thumb and stuck his right index finger in and moved it in and out, “Sticky stuff.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?’ I asked through my tears and laughter.

  “Hey, you’re the one who brought it up,” Sam said, “I was just trying to clarify.”

  “Seriously, you don’t think they’re doing anything?”

  He shook his head and pulled a long hit on the Monte Christo, “No. Andy knows his duty. A few smooches, that’s it.”

  “Smooches…” I said mockingly, “So sexy.”

  “I’ll show you something sexy,” He said. I felt something hard and hot against my back – I was laying on his chest.

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah…”

  I sighed contentedly. These moments were so necessary now.

  That’s why the sound of a distant rifle shot turned my blood to ice. It was audible, not one of the silenced weapons.

  “Fuck…” I said, “What the hell?”

  The two way radio sitting on the helm console crackled to life, “Castle rock this is wanderer, do you copy?”

  I got to my feet and snatched my Uzi from the other cockpit bench as Sam scooped up the radio and said, “We read, Wanderer. Sit rep?”

  “G’s,” Came Andy’s audibly worried voice, “Hundreds of them crowding the south gate… hell maybe more.”

  “Was that your shot?” Sam asked.

  “Affirmative. Tara shot one before I could stop her. They’re really agitated and working on the gate pretty hard. It’s holding for now, but I think we’re going to have to frag them before they simply break it down with sheer weight or draw in more.”

  “Roger that, orange,” Sam said, “Hang tight, we’re on the way. What’s your ammo sitch?”

  “I’ve got my M4,” Andy replied. I could hear the tension in his voice but it was collected. Hard not to feel proud of my son, “I’ve got a full magazine and two extras. Ninety rounds. Tara has an AR-15 with a fifty round banana. No extra, and she’s expended one.”

  “Fuck…” I muttered as I ran below to grab some extra ammo for Sam and me.

  Tony stepped out of his forward cabin pulling a T-shirt over his muscular torso, “What’s up?”

  “Andy and Tara are at the south gate,” I explained, going forward to the v-berth where we kept a bunch of the ammo boxes, “A shit ton of ghouls are trying to break the gate down.”

  “Christ,” Tony grumbled, going across the corridor and ducking into Andy’s small identical cabin.

  I grabbed a backpack already loaded. We kept a couple of these bug out bags handy. It held three clips for my Uzi, three for an AK about two hundred .9mm rounds for the Uzi as refills and another two hundred 7.62 for the AK’s. There was also a box of 12 gauge shells – fifty rounds and two boxes of .308 shells – a hundred rounds.

  I slung the pack and turned aft. Tony came out of Andy’s room with his .308 portable cannon.

  “You got the right bag?” Tony asked me, slinging the rifle over his shoulder with the tactical sling.

  “Yeah,” I said, heading aft, “A hundred rounds for you. What’ve you got?”

  “There was an open box and I put them in my pocket,” Tony said, “maybe twenty.”

  We bolted up on deck and saw that Sam was just finishing a weapons’ check on his AK-47, “I’ve got a full clip but that’s it.”

  “I pointed to the bag over my shoulder, “Three more in here and two hundred extra rounds. Aughta be enough.”

  As we jumped down onto the finger pier and moved toward the bow, Brenda and Carl stepped out of the yacht with AR-15’s in their hands. Brenda looked confused, “Was that a shot?”r />
  “Yeah,” Sam said, “Zombies at the south gate. A few hundred, Andy thinks. We’re going over there and beef up their firepower. You guys in?”

  “Hell yeah,” Carl said, “If we’re going to live here, it’s our job to defend it, too.”

  We all trotted together up the dock and went left and up the ramp to the gate. I was out front and unlocked it. We turned right again to pass under the office balcony and Tony just about bowled my ass over when I stopped short maybe fifteen feet from the gate.

  “What the fuck, marine?” He asked. There was a pause, “Oh, mother of God…”

  There were pallid gray faces pressed against the mesh of the gate, their decaying flesh literally pushing through the small diamond shaped holes as a nearly solid press of their brethren compelled them from behind. The entire bridge that led over the water from the seawall was crammed with deaders.

  “Fuck, they’re everywhere!” Brenda said. She pointed and we looked toward the pool and the parking lot to the left.

  It was dark, and no artificial light lit anything up, but there was a decent moon and we could see them. Hundreds… no thousands of human shaped things writhing, shuffling and pushing each other to fill every available space.

  And the sound… that moaning, that awful, mournful and spine tingling moan they made. It mixed with snarls to form a noise too hideous to contemplate.

  And yeah, they stunk… God, how they stunk…

  “Son of a bitch!” Sam snarled, “Could this be?”

  “What?” Carl asked.

  “A coordinated attack,” Sam said, “This is the only way to get to Andy and Tara. We have to go out of this gate and then over to J dock and through that gate to get to the other side of the marina. These fucking shit bags have clogged both of our land exits.”

  “You’re not saying they knew what they were doing?” Brenda asked in disbelief.

  “No way,” Tony said, shaking his head, “No fucking way, Sharky.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sam said, “it’s probably just coincidence. But they’ve pretty much fucked us.”

  “Then let’s kill these bastards and go get the kids,” Carl suggested.

  “There’s got to be over a thousand of them out there,” Sam explained, “We’ll expend a lot of ammo and probably draw in a lot more in the process. And by the time we do… we’ll probably end up pulling even more than this in from as far away as the sound of our shots travel… maybe further.”