“There was car in front of mosque. Badly damaged but if we roll it, is quiet and we can hide behind?” Nasir put in.
“Actually, that’s a pretty decent idea. If they are watching the water, and we roll it gently and quietly, we can get to the gate and John could axe that thing open if it’s locked. Then the car would even help block the dead while we boarded everyone.”
Omar looked at his nephew with pride. The child who had hated for no other reason than he was taught to, had now become a man and a valuable member of the group.
“Ok. So here is the plan. Those of us with guns go on the sides, John and Omar I need you two to get some stuff together from the food. Not a ton, we can’t slow ourselves down, but enough to hold us for a little bit if Cyprus is in shambles. Nasir, mind the kids?”
Every one nodded that they understood their parts. Elana explained to the children what they were to do, “Follow this man, and stay close. Do not run.” John and Omar put some waters and cans of food into the bags from the grocery store in Kfar Adumim and Tal checked to make sure no rovers had found the bus. As they were exiting the back door, Christine grabbed the fire extinguisher.
“What are you doing with that?” asked Tal
“Just in case we need it. Trust me.” She
replied. Tal shrugged, he’d grown used to the idea that Christine was more than capable and knew her business.
Tal, John and Christine moved silently across the open road, and over to the lone gray sedan that was parked in front of the Sinan Basha mosque. The windows were spider webbed and the windshield had been broken into, streaks of dried blood patterning the glass; the right hand rearview mirror hung at an odd angle. There was no body, moving or otherwise, in the seats and it wasn’t locked, so they pulled open the doors for added concealment.
Thankfully it was a manual stick shift and was easily thrown into neutral, after which the three of them rolled it in reverse and positioned it facing down the quay. It was at this point that the doctor, to whom Christine had handed the fire extinguisher, and Nasir who had the AK 47 lying against his back, herded the children behind the trunk of the car between Tal and Christine. John would steer, because someone had to, and with his axe laying across the seat, he’d be on the side of the security gate anyway. Slowly, cautiously, and silently they pushed the car. They maintained a slow crawl so that should any dead turn around, they would be able to simply hide and not worry about the momentum continuing to take the car forward; besides which the slower they moved the less likely any errant noise would attract attention.
Slowly they passed the street on the other side of the mosque, both Nasir and Omar offering silent prayers as they passed, and on up the street past the remains of the outside seating area of a quaint and pleasant looking restaurant. They passed the first dock on their left hand side; only a few derelict hulls protruded from the water here. Shreds of fishing nets were strewn about the seawall, here a two tiered affair to give the fishermen a staging area below the main road and even with the decks of their boats. Still the undead had not moved, staring straight ahead at the waters around the crusader port and toward the hazy mountains. Breathing hard as much from the strain of pushing the sedan as from the nigh insurmountable fear of the undead just yards away turning on them, the group passed by the Khan al-Umdan, called the Caravanserai of the Pillars, the largest and best preserved khan in Israel. The building had stood overlooking the marina since 1784 and was holy to the Baha’i faith, and also was used for the festivals of the city; festivals which sadly would now be attended by no one but the damned.
Now, only a dozen or so feet from the security door, Tal and Christine had to resist the urge to push faster. They were so close that they desperately wanted to get to the boat and safety, but they knew that to do anything stupid now would kill them all. The dead, oblivious to all save Neptune’s song, continued their ghastly vigil. Finally, the sedan pulled slowly up alongside the blue security gate; the yellow and white tour boat gleamed at them invitingly. There was a tiny, rusting lock attached to the gate, the kind you would find at any hardware store and which would pose no barrier to a good swing of John’s axe. As he lifted his axe from the sedan’s seat, the passenger side rearview mirror conspired to be their undoing. Whether it was the vibrations of moving the car down the quay, or perhaps a stray breeze, they would never know. The rearview mirror detached from the side of the car and fell to the cobble paved road below, shattering the glass mirror on impact. The response from the dead was palpable. It was like the striking of a tuning fork, the vibration that ran through the crowd of undead as they shivered at the new sound. Instead of a pleasant tone, however, the group received the sound of a thousand throats howling that awful noise.
“Shit! Now John!” Tal screamed.
John immediately went to work on the lock of the gate, while Elana and Nasir tried to keep the children, who were now screaming and crying, together. The lock gave way instantly and Elana and Nasir pushed the children forward first, through the gate and through the open side of the boat. As Elana passed by, Christine grabbed the fire extinguisher from her. The dead were now turning and loping toward the group, the closest only perhaps thirty feet away. She pulled the pin and smashed the handle on the ground until it stuck in the on position, fire retardant smoke billowing from the tube. She threw the extinguisher into the onrushing crowd, hitting the lead undead in the face, as the cloud grew around them.
“Get on the boat, and start the damn engine! You gotta wire it!” Tal screamed at her as he was firing into the crowd with the 9 millimeter. Omar, John, and Nasir were already on board with the kids; as soon as Christine started to run, Tal turned and fled through the gate. Christine had gotten into the pilots house and was working on the wires to get the motor going. Tal began to untie the mooring lines that held the vessel in place, not having thought about it before just now. Seeing that Tal would soon be overwhelmed by the beasts who were close to pouring through the damaged security gate, Nasir leapt off the boat and back onto the slip, ignoring the frantic calls of his uncle. He swept past Tal and un-slung the AK from his back, jamming it into the gate to act as a makeshift bar. The boy’s ingenuity paid off, the undead were kept from opening the gate while Christine got the engine started and Tal cast off the last line. In the process of securing the gate, however, Nasir got too close to the bars and one of the undead reached through to grab him by his shirt. He was pulled close to the bars, the desiccated and salt crusted face of a middle aged woman trying to push through the bars and snapping her teeth. The force was so great that the woman’s skin began to slough off onto the bars, exposing the delicate muscle and bones of her cheeks.
“Saeduni!” the boy cried. Help me!
Tal threw the last line into the boat just as the engine roared to life, water churning at the boat’s stern, just as Nasir screamed. Omar was being restrained by John, the older man clearly trying to save his nephew. Tal turned and saw the boy being drawn towards the gnashing teeth of one of the damned and sprang into motion. All thought of safety was abandoned and just before Nasir was pulled to the gate, Tal jammed his own body in-between. Wrapping his arms around the boy, he reached back with a foot and placed it against the blue bars of the gate. Pushing with all his strength, he propelled Nasir and himself off of the gate to fall in a tangle on the boat slip. The hand that had grabbed Nasir’s shirt, still attached in a rigorous grip. The makeshift bar was not going to hold too much longer, the barrel of the rifle already having bent at an odd angle, so the two men disentangled themselves from one another and ran onto the boat. Tal kicked at the dock, pushing the boat into the waters of the marina as he got on. Undead had begun spilling from the entry way of the slip and into the water, pressed against the security gate and the mass of undead flesh to their backs. Most sank right away, but a couple flailed until they were nearing the boat as the keel was swinging to point them to freedom. One had gotten close to the stern and reached for the motor only to have the propeller shred its hand into a bl
ack oozing mass.
The boat’s tank was full, and the second the bow was pointed to the marina’s exit, Christine pushed the throttle forward. The boat surged forward, passing the other slips on the marina. Not all of the security gates were closed, and the final dock before the open Mediterranean was close to the boat. Some of the undead leapt from the dock as the boat passed, John knocking one out of the air and into the water with a thrust of his axe to its face, Nasir used his uncle’s cleaver to sever the fingers of another who had jumped short but managed to get a hand hold on the side. Christine appeared out of the wheelhouse long enough to lob her last grenade onto the wooden slip just before it turned to stone quay. The explosion destroyed the pier, undead flying everywhere and ending their only avenue towards the boat. Then they were through, only the open ocean before them, and everyone aboard breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone except Tal, who was at the stern of the boat staring outward pensively. No one disturbed him, which was good, because that meant they hadn’t seen him try to massage the pain in his shoulder away; they hadn’t seen him wipe the resultant blood off on his pant leg either.
Chapter Twenty One
It took some time for them to figure out the compass on the boat. Christine had to admit that though she was proficient with hotwiring a motorized transport, she was no sea captain, nor was her husband. Omar took the wheel and kept the boat on a passably acceptable course toward Cyprus. It was close to two hundred miles from Acre to Cyprus and the group spent most of their time resting against the gunwales. The tour boat was large enough to make the trip, but the waves of the Mediterranean, small as they were, did not make the trip overly comfortable. However, the group found that this was the first time they felt truly safe in a long while. They had found security before, even a small measure of safety at the monastery, but in the end it was only a wall or a door that separated them from the dead. Here, on the sapphire expanse of the open ocean, the seagulls were the only other moving creatures. The boat ride was the first time that they were beyond the reach of the undead, even the children were lighthearted and laughing as the salt spray hit their faces.
Elana tried to look over the other members of the group, only Tal refused telling her he was fine, though she couldn’t help but notice that she could feel the heat from his body through his sleeve as she laid her hand on his arm. If he hadn’t still been wearing the black clothes given to him by the priests at the monastery, he doubted he’d have been able to hide the wound on his shoulder; as it was, the black masked the blood that had leaked out from the bite he’d sustained trying to save Nasir. He’d been thinking about things since the marina, barely an hour gone now, and decided that as long as Cyprus wasn’t totally fucked, he could feel like he’d done his job. Tal was beginning to feel the fever starting, though it was slow in taking hold probably due to the anti viral drug Elana had given them all. There was no hope that it would kill the virus, but he might be able to hold out until they made landfall and Tal could see the group safe. Then, he’d take care of himself. The boat was averaging about thirty knots, which would put them in Cyprus in about five more hours. That man in Almon said it took a few hours and with the anti viral, he could make it.
As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait that long at all. Four hours out from Acre and just about two from Cyprus, they were met with the sight of another boat speeding toward them. It was a sleek gray fast patrol boat, which bore the Cypriot police force colors and was heading toward them at speed. As they came closer, Tal could see that it was an eclectic mash up of people on the boat. The captain was clearly Cypriot, he still had his police uniform on despite it being filthy and patched in places. There were three deck hands, one was a Brit military man, one a Cypriot Greek, and the last was a Turk. They hailed the tour boat and pulled alongside it.
“Hello.” The Brit said after seeing Elana. “You folk look tired and like you could use a bath. C’mon, then. We have food, water, protection, and quite a few others back at Akrotiri. You’re safe now, safe as you can be these days.”
The boat turned around behind the group’s craft and headed out in the direction they had been heading, the captain waiving for them to follow. The police boat had a good bit of speed to it, but they opened up the engine to the tour boat and were clearing about 40 knots, which the other craft kept pace with. Inside of an hour and a half, the late afternoon sun now low on the western horizon, the southernmost tip of the island came into view. Both boats pulled into a sheltered man made harbor, toward a white building just off of the boat slips. The fever had worsened now, Tal was sure he looked flush and sick, but no one said anything to him and he didn’t volunteer any information. Not yet, not until he knew. Waiting at the dock, presumably alerted to the arrival of newcomers by their escort, stood a young British man in camouflaged utilities and a beret on his head. He was, of course, flanked by several serious looking men with rifles.
The boats pulled into the slip, the police boat arriving first and all the mates jumping off to join the young officer, and then the survivors.
“Good evening,” he said, h is accent marking him as upper class, “I am Flight Lieutenant Roger Briston and this is Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force Base Akrotiri. Of course that was before Her Majesty, Parliament, and rather all of Britain was destroyed. I have been asked by the Air Marshal to welcome you. I do believe, however, we’d get on much easier if you’d be so kind as to disarm.”
Tal, his head swimming with the fever now, came forward a little.
“Tal Barzani, formerly of the Sayeret Maglan Israeli Defense Forces. These are my people. I need to know that this place is safe, that they will be unharmed, and that we can trust you – one military man to another – before I tell them to lay down their weapons.”
The other men with the lieutenant tensed up a little, but kept their weapons pointed to the ground at a gesture from the young man.
“I completely understand. The world’s gone tits up and you want to make sure we aren’t some rogues out to harm you and yours. Well, you are safe. The RAF may have crumbled along with the rest of the world but the Air Marshal is a man who commands great respect and demands strict adherence to the oaths we swore when we enlisted. You will be unharmed. We have a fence around the base, the zed’s can’t get past. We have weapons, we have people from every nearby country, we have a few boats which we occasionally send out to sweep the surrounding ocean and coasts for survivors, and even some helicopters left. We are the good guys, my friend, I swear it to you.”
Tal carefully watched the young
lieutenant as he answered, and detected no falsehood or malice about him. It seemed the group was finally safe, and Tal could no longer remain choosy.
“Alright everyone, drop your weapons.” He said which they all did, himself included, until he held the Jericho. “Can I ask you something? Is there anyone else left out there?”
“Yes, actually. Some of the strangest places you’d think. We still have some working radios and we’ve learned that the Vatican is whole, but then it was always a walled fortress and they do have the Swiss Guard. They’ve actually taken in people from everywhere and are slowly taking back small sections of Rome. Iceland is doing ok now. Let’s see, India and Pakistan have a few pockets of resistance. I believe the Sikhs are doing good work, the Golden Temple being surrounded by water. Some in America in Louisiana and I believe Alaska and a few other mountain areas, though we only get those transmissions on occasion being so far away and they are spotty at best”, replied the lieutenant.
Tal relaxed. It sounded like they were good. And if they were good, he didn’t need to hold on any longer. He could let go now and rest.
“Listen, Lieutenant. I’ve been bit.” At which point all the men raised their rifles at Tal, and all of Tal’s people began to talk manically. “Take it easy, take it easy. There’s time left before it’s done. I’d like to ask you a favor. Take my people to the base, and take care of them. As for me, I’d like to die with some dignity, not be shot down l
ike a dog. You can have my one pistol, but this one”, he brandished the Jericho, “this one, I would like for you to dispose of with me. It’s followed me for so many days now, it’s only fitting that it follow me a little farther. Besides which, I don’t want another person to touch it…you may think me crazy, but I think there’s a curse on it. Like it soaked up all my sins and unleashes them on who ever holds it.”
At that, Tal removed the clip and counting out the bullets into the palm of his hand.
9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2…1.
The survivors all debarked the boat and Tal handed the bullets to the lieutenant showing him the single round left in the clip.
The young officer accepted them and nodded his head to Tal, turned and filled three trucks that had been waiting for the purpose with the remaining survivors. Every one of them said their goodbye’s to Tal before getting in the trucks, Nasir even wept saying that he would always remember Tal as an honorable man and would seek to make him proud. Elana, who had known Tal for the shortest, kissed him on the cheek. John and Omar shook his hand, Christine hugged him. He extracted promises from John and Christine to watch after the group in his stead, and told them how proud he was of all that they’d done. They all thanked him for their safety and swore to remember him, after which the trucks left, taking them to the safety of the base proper. Lieutenant Briston had left two men with Tal, saying he’d send a truck back later for them. They waited at a respectable distance while Tal walked across the blacktop road and into the scrub and sand of the surrounding beach, rifles at the ready and a can of gasoline at their feet.
The fever had him then, the light of the late afternoon sun swimming and blurring in his vision. In the distance, not far off, a man in a white robe stood with his arms outstretched, what could have been a red carnation pinned to his robe just about where his ribs were.
“I did what you asked Ahmed. I got them here, and that’s it. What did Job say? ‘Hitherto shall thou come, but no further’? Well, no further. Thank you, brother, for giving me the strength to do the right thing. Thank you for forgiving me. I may not have deserved it then, but I hope I’ve gone some small distance towards earning it.”
Seven Days Dead Page 19