World of Corpses (Book 1): World of Corpses

by Cook, Scott W.

  Rivers grinned, “My pleasure, Commander. Well, I’ve got duties, so I’ll say good-bye.”

  As she stood at the head of the ladder she looked back at me with something in her eyes. I couldn’t quite tell what, but something earnest and maybe even pleading. I walked over close to her.

  “Sir…” She began hesitantly, “I meant it back at the hotel… anything you need, Fred and I are ready to assist you.”

  “You know anything about subs?” I asked with a grin.

  She smiled and shook her head, “No… I do know weapons, though. Make a good security chief, for example.”

  I nodded, “Okay, Rivers… Julie. I’ve got a mission coming up, maybe you can come along. And maybe you and Fred can take us fishing before or after.”

  She smiled, “Just let me know, sir. Fred and I live in a place over on Fleming. Right near the corner of Fleming and Elizabeth, by the library.”

  “Is there something you’re trying to ask me, Julie?” I asked quietly.

  She looked uncertain for a moment, “I… we’ll talk about it another time, Captain. I know you’ve got a lot to think about at the moment.”

  With that, she scurried down the ladder and fired up her engine. I cast her lines off and she pulled away with a wave.

  “New girlfriend?” Andrea asked as I stepped back into the cockpit.

  “Can’t fraternize,” I said wagging a finger.

  Andrea scoffed, “She’s pretty cute. To hell with it.”

  That got a laugh and I shook my head, “not sure… anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I’ve got some news. I’ve made a deal with the devil.”

  I went on to explain my talk with Banks. I also told them that we’d be weighing anchor and going in to the Galleon marina.

  “You mean,” Brenda said with a gleam in her eye, “Power? Like real power to run the air conditioning and hot water and stuff?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “Just like folks.”

  “Well I’ll be a greasy son of a bitch,” Carl said with a grin.

  “Not anymore, sweet buns,” Brenda said with a pat on his arm, “now you’ll be able to scrape the crust off your taint.”

  “Jesus!” Carl said as he guffawed.

  We all laughed at that. Brenda wasn’t a quiet prude by any means, but that was pretty out there for her.

  I waited for the laughs to subside, “As far as it goes, the team is Tony, Andrea, Andy and myself. Anybody else want to—“

  Andrea’s face got hard, “What? Andy is going with us? I get you and Tony. You’re both sub trained. I’m happy to go, although don’t know what I can do other than fly the helo if we get one, and either of you could do that.”

  “Not at your level,” I said, “And Andy is part of the package. Banks is taking his commission seriously, as I do. Andy is a Lieutenant in the United States Navy as far as we’re all concerned. And his participation is part of our… plea bargain? I think he’ll do well. It’ll be good experience for him and most of all… I can trust him. Anybody else that goes along will be from Banks’ crew.”

  Andrea sighed, “I guess… I’m just sick of putting my son in danger every five minutes.”

  “It’s a dangerous world,” Andy said, “and I’d rather be taking action than sitting around and waiting for shit to fall on me.””

  “Just like he momma ain’t he?” Tony drawled.

  “Fuck you, Tony,” Andrea said with a grin.

  “Nice,” I continued, “I’m not sure of the details yet. However, the basics are these: we get to Jacksonville, presumably by Seahawks. We get aboard the boat, get her reactor out of standby and steam down the Florida coast and back here. Anybody else want to come?”

  Tara raised her hand immediately, as I suspected she would, “I’ll go. I don’t know what I can offer… but I can cook and swab the deck, I guess.”

  Tony chuckled, “It’s a submarine, babe. The decks swab themselves. At least outside.”

  She shrugged, “Well, I can do something. I’m sure I can watch a panel or turn a knob or whatever.”

  I nodded, “And you can fight. Good enough. Happy to have you. How about you two?”

  Carl and Brenda gave each other a look and seemed hesitant before they both shook their heads. Carl sighed, “After the other day, Sam… I don’t’ know if I can hack it anymore. I’m ashamed to say that, but you saw…”

  Brenda looked uncomfortable. I don’t think she knew the full story. We certainly weren’t going to share it, and Carl was probably too ashamed to tell her.

  “It’s okay,” I said, “Nobody in their right mind would want to go into what seems like zombie-infested territory on purpose.”

  Brenda raised an eyebrow, “You guys are.”

  “Right,” Tony added, “We’re all fucked in the head.”

  Brenda smiled, “I’m with Carl. Besides, what can we do? We’re useless on a submarine. Don’t know shit about it. At least Tara is young and strong.”

  “Understood,” I said, “No hard feelings. You guys can keep an eye on our boats and stuff. I’d feel better having you here, frankly.”

  Once we were secured at the Galleon marina, Tony and I headed over to the carrier. We went aboard and found Banks in the CIC with Chief Poole going over some intel that they’d gathered.

  “Ah, Decker,” Banks said as we entered the dark room, “Glad you’re here. You two, Commander. Poole and I were just going over some information that I think you’ll want to know.”

  “Here’s the recording from the overflight the other day,” Poole said, indicating a screen. She pressed a series of buttons on her keyboard and a speeded up recording began to play. It showed a large reddish swirl.

  “That’s the sub,” Poole said, “Not sure which one, though. I don’t think it’s the Jimmy Carter because of this.”

  She tapped in another command and the thermal image was replaced by a night-vision enhanced view. In it, I could clearly see the sleek black shape of a submarine against a pier. Although the pier was somewhat fuzzy looking.

  “She looks the right size for the standard build,” Poole said, “Based on known beam, she’s just about three-hundred and fifty feet. As you know, Captain, the Carter is a hundred feet longer because of the special warfare addition. So this is either the Seawolf or the Connecticut.”

  “Okay,” I said. It didn’t really matter. Although I’m glad it wasn’t the Jimmy Carter. That extra length might reduce maneuverability if push came to shove, “Why is the real image so fuzzy?”

  Poole groaned, “Here, I’ll put both images up on these two screens, so you can compare.”

  Another monitor came to life next to the one in front of Poole. It displayed the thermal images. She let them both run at normal speed and the situation became clear.

  “Fuck…” Tony groaned.

  The docks and the surrounding grounds of the naval base were fuzzy because they were carpeted in low-energy heat signatures. Slightly higher than the surrounding air and ground.

  “Zombies…” I said, “Fucking zombies… thousands of them…”

  “You see the problem,” Banks grumped, “how the Christ do we get you in there?”

  “First question,” I said, “Is how do you get us near that base? Planning on flying us in in a squadron of Seahawks?”

  Banks scowled, “No. The round trip is beyond their range, especially loaded down with people and gear. We’d have to refuel somewhere and there’s no guarantee we’d find any. Even at Patrick.”

  “By boat then?” Tony asked.

  Banks shook his head, “One of the reasons we want this boat is to help patrol and protect the waters around here and along the Florida east coast. It’s not secure. Aside from that sub out there, there have been rumors of bandits operating along the coast. Probably even out of Patrick air force base. Or at least armed with what they found there… no, sending a ship is out of the question for now… and small boats might not make it.”

  “Unless we sailed,” I suggested, “We can take
my boat and go up the Gulfstream nice and quiet.”

  Banks frowned, “It’d take you four or five days… No, that’s not an option, either.”

  “So we’re back to flying,” Tony said, “Even if you can get us close, we can hump it the rest of the way.”

  I sighed, “With what… thirty or forty people? Across the ground in unknown circumstances? Sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

  “What’s the absolute bare minimum crew you’d need, Decker?” Banks asked.

  I pondered this for a moment and then blew out my breath, “Two in engineering to monitor the reactor and maneuvering… helmsman sonar and watch chief for diving control… a weapons crew of at least three and myself. And that’s pushing the limits beyond any idea of safety or effectiveness.”

  Banks sighed, “What if we cut the torpedo crew? That’s six. You could get six in, which is our big problem.”

  “Christ, Admiral!” Tony exclaimed, “That’s hardly enough to operate an attack boat. And suppose we’re attacked? We’ve got nobody to even launch a fish!”

  Banks frowned and tapped his chin, “Once you get out into open water, it’s what… fifteen hours back here at max quiet speed. A long shift, nothing more. Once aboard, you can have your crew rest for a few hours to freshen up before that. You know full well that the Seawolf-class is quieter at twenty-five knots than the 688 boats are tied to the dock. You should be okay. Once you’re close, simply contact us and I’ll have the Jones rendezvous with you and guide you in here. That part of the mission should be a piece of cake.”

  I wanted to laugh at that, but figured this wasn’t the time. Banks seemed to have made up his mind.

  “What about growth?” Tony said, “Nobody’s cleaned her hull in six months. At best she’s covered in soft growth and at worst as crusty as a whale’s ass.”

  Banks frowned, “I’ve been researching that. You know the anti-fouling stuff we use is many times more effective than the civvy stuff. The consensus is that she’ll be pretty clean. Shouldn’t effect her stealth very much. You could always do a visual inspection and cleaning offshore if need be.”

  “That may be,” I said neutrally, “but it’s getting to the boat that looks like a cluster fuck. And why are there so many G’s hanging around that base, anyway?”

  Banks shrugged, “Probably got overrun months ago. So now they’re just hanging around with no place else to go.”

  “Hmmm…” I said thoughtfully and rubbed my chin, “Still seems odd. Okay, then. So what’s the plan? How do you get us even close to that base?”

  “The train,” Banks said, “Poole?”

  Poole worked her keyboard and the two screens went dark for a moment before the one in front of her came to life with a satellite feed.

  “As you can see,” Banks said, touching the screen that currently showed a portion of the east coast of Florida. I could see what looked like the St. John’s river near the top of the screen, “The Flagler railroad system follows the coast up all the way from Miami. Hell, from here once upon a time. It passes relatively close to the base. My thought is to fly you to a relatively remote location where you can pick up a locomotive and drive it north. Once close to Jacksonville… well, you’ll have to figure it out from there. But I think a hundred ton locomotive all by itself is quite a good rolling fortress against Zulu’s and bandits alike.”

  Tony scoffed, “Sure, now all we have to do is find a train that still works, figure out how to drive the thing and hope there’s nothing tricky about the several hundred miles we’ve got to travel.”

  Banks eyed him coldly for a moment and then smirked, “Okay, fair enough… but I think it’s our best bet for the moment. And frankly, I’ve been thinking about trains for some time now. There’s a hundred thousand miles of track in North America. A train can cover a lot of ground quickly and safely. Not to mention that each of those engines holds what, a thousand gallons of diesel?”

  I nodded, “that is interesting… So any idea on where we can pick one up? And what about stalled trains in our path?”

  Banks had Poole play a series of sat feed images that scrolled down the coast with emphasis on the eastern tracks, of which there were several. There were three main lines that ran up and down the peninsula. The east coast, central and west coast rails. There were several trains on the tracks as we scrolled through, but the main lines were clear.

  “It looks like when the shit hit the fan,” Poole said, “The engineers got their trains onto spur lines and yards and whatever. There are several trains as far south as Miami that you could check out… although I’d stay away from the Dade and Broward county areas.”

  “Lots of stiffs?” Tony asked.

  Poole tapped a few keys and a series of images flashed onto the screens. They were of a city, or cities. And the streets were loaded with fuzzy objects that seemed to obscure the roads.

  “Jesus…” I breathed.

  “Miami and Fort Lauderdale and everything in between are swamped in the living dead,” Banks said glumly.

  “As far north as West palm,” Poole said, “Although, there is a potential spot somewhere around Delray Beach… well, out west, that is. Look.”

  She showed us a closer image of the railway. It was a bit out of the main concentration of the cities that clustered around I-95 and US-1 along the eastern coast of Florida. There was a spur line that led away from the city and into a more rural area. On it sat a train with at least forty cars attached.

  “This spur line runs into the main line,” Poole said, “But the train itself is out in the boonies, more or less. Kind of between I-95 and 441. Low density.”

  “We could helo you in there,” Banks said, “Land you near the train and be gone again before the noise drew in too many G’s. Or even land a few miles away so that you could hoof it and any G’s or people around would be attracted to the helo and not you.”

  “Makes sense,” Tony said, “Then we can make up the distance in less than an hour and have relative peace while we figured out how to work the train.”

  “It can’t be that tough,” Banks said with a grin, “it’s not like you can swerve off the road, for Christ’s sake. You fire it up, go forward and then stop. Might have to operate switch tracks along the way or something… but what else have you got to do?”

  I chuckled. Sounded so easy to him. The basic idea of the train was simple enough, but I’m sure operating one of those big rolling engines would be a little more complex than that. However, as Banks did point out, what else did we have going on?

  Also, trains were loaded with goods. It could be that these abandoned freight haulers would be gold mines as well.

  “It’s a go then,” I said, “I’ve got five on my team already. Actually six, as Gunny Rivers volunteered to act as security. I’ll still need a sonar man, if you’ve got one free.”

  Banks nodded, “I have several. In fact, there’s an O4 on my EP3 crew who’s experienced at tracking subs. I’ll have her report to you when commander Hall lands. In the meantime, why don’t you put together a list of what you’ll need.”

  Chapter 33

  From the diary of Tara Shafer

  Dated 12/8/2019

  Dear diary,

  In a million years I’d never have thought this would happen to me. I mean, at least before the apocalypse, that is.

  Six months ago, I’d finished my first year at college. I had a vague notion of where my life was going… very vague. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to study yet, just that I wanted to do something with my life and was looking forward to the next chapter… and that next chapter turned out to be a horror story!

  But I guess there’s no point in bitching about it now. No crying over spilled milk, as my mom used to say.

  So, here I was, prepping for what amounts to a full on SEAL mission to infiltrate an enemy base and steal a submarine!

  Yeah, okay, it was an American naval base… but it was in the hands… or the mouths…? Of our greatest enemy. And our team consisted o
f seven people! Just seven, two of whom weren’t actually even in the military.

  I know that they’d sworn Andy in, which is cool, but he’d never gone through boot camp or whatever. Although, to be fair, he did have two SEALS and a marine to train him. But what about me? I was lucky I could shoot straight half the time! This had to be the craziest thing I’d ever done and then some… but I couldn’t let Andy and his family risk their lives alone. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

  We stood on the flight deck of the Teddy Roosevelt all lined up in front of Sam. It was Andrea, Tony, Andy, Julie Rivers the Gunnery Sergeant and me. Next to me was a new girl, a woman slightly taller than Rivers with thick short hair, a voluptuous figure that included some boobs that looked like they barely fit into her BDU blouse. She was very pretty. Had that exotic angular Hispanic look that drove the men crazy. I know this, because Tony kept giving her a sideways glance now and then.

  “All right,” Sam said, his hands clasped behind his back, “Before I go over our load out, I want to introduce Lieutenant Commander Victoria Sanchez. Commander Sanchez—“

  “Sir,” Sanchez said in a perfectly accentless soft voice, “I’m okay with just Vicky, at least on this team.”

  Sam smiled at her, “Good, Vicky. I was going to suggest we stick with first names and maybe sirs at most. We’re going to get mighty cozy over the next few days, and in my experience, formalities are awkward, at least in some cases. Have you ever seen combat, Vicky?”

  Sanchez inhaled and filled her ample chest and then let it out slowly, “To be honest, sir… Sam… no. I mean, not like what we’re about to do. I’m a sonar officer. I’ve spent my career in EP3’s and in the sonar rooms of destroyers tracking boats. I’ve had the basic combat training, of course… but even when the world went into the shitter, I was with the squadron and haven’t really done any close-quarters fighting.”

  To me she sounded almost apologetic. Sam noticed too and gave her one of his smiles. The kind of smile that made you feel comfortable and safe. I bet he got a lot of panties off with that smile. It was like a bonfire on a chilly night.