Crawlerz | Book 2 | Batten Down The Hatches

by Merritt, R. S.

  “This can’t be that hard. We’ll figure it out.” Mikey said exasperatedly.

  The first thing they ruled out was attaching the trailer to one of their big trucks. There was just no way they’d be able to use it to back a boat into the water and launch it. Especially if the launch area was a tight squeeze. Assuming the owner of the house must’ve had a way to move his boat they decided to break in the garage and see what kind of vehicles may be in there. The small team formed up and burst through the front door of the large home ready to do damage to anything that got in their way.

  LeBron was relieved that the foyer and the great room turned out to be the right kind of boring. Nothing attacked them and other than some obnoxiously purple sparkly throw pillows on the ground there wasn’t anything in the house to indicate anything bad had ever occurred there. It wasn’t like the throw pillows were extremely ominous. They just stood out since the rest of the house was ridiculously tidy and elegant. The house must’ve been a seasonal residence that wasn’t in use when the infection struck.

  LeBron was feeling pretty good about the house as they tromped through it looking for the door to the garage. At least he was until he spotted the missing slider off the side of the kitchen. It looked like the Incredible Hulk had come along and smashed the sliding door assembly out of its frame. In front of them was what appeared to be a laundry room leading out into a pitch-dark garage. They could tell it was pitch dark out there because the door was hanging off of a single hinge.

  LeBron’s combat instinct went to full on red alert. He wanted to wrap his arms around the Marines in front of him and yank them all out of the house. He caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes staring back at them from the inky darkness inside the rectangular hole where the door was barely hanging on. He ignored his intuition for a critical second telling himself it was just his nerves. His fear of looking like a freaked-out kid in front of these veteran warriors clamping his mouth shut.

  The Marine on point clicked on his flashlight. The bright white beam painted the inside of the garage. A large red pickup truck surrounded by a writhing pile of deathly silent crawlerz popped into view. The crawlerz skittering in all directions like a giant pile of pale cockroaches when the light hit them. Cussing, screaming and weapons going off in complete disregard for their training the tight group tried to surge backwards out of the cramped laundry room. Terror had them tightly locked in its icy grip.

  The instincts that’d helped keep LeBron alive kicked in now. Cursing himself for not calling out the warning when it first hit him LeBron spun and ran for the hallway. Once he was in the well-lit great room he spun around and brought his own rifle to bear. The deafening noise of multiple weapons being fired inside the home rolled over him like a wave in a waterpark. You knew it was coming but it still surprised you with its power.

  Mikey and another man came running down the hallway. They were both yelling at LeBron to get down. A second later the house exploded. Both of the Marines had pulled the pins on grenades and rolled them in the general direction of the garage. One of the grenades had landed inside a very expensive washing machine. Now it was a pile of shredded metal. The grenades had the desired effect of subduing the crawlerz coming at them. The only reason the two of them had escaped was the bulk of the beasts had gotten entangled with the corpses of the lead Marines in the tiny space. A feeding frenzy had slowed the onslaught enough to allow them to toss the grenades and make a run for it.

  Outside in the grass the newcomer bent over and puked. Mikey was hopping on one leg trying to see how bad the shrapnel that’d ripped through his calf had hurt him. He had blood all over the bottom of his pants but appeared to be ok otherwise. An uncontrollable desire to ask him if it were only a flesh wound was pounding inside LeBron’s head. He won the internal struggle to keep that thought to himself.

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” LeBron said to the others.

  “Is it ok if I finish bleeding first?” Mikey asked sarcastically. The yacking Marine ran out of stomach stuff to hurl and went down on one knee beside Mikey. Now LeBron wanted to make a crack about there not being time for a proposal either. Once again, he managed to keep his mouth shut. He had no idea what was going on with his brain. He was all over the place. He needed to focus, or he was going to be spending his afternoons as part of a mostly naked pile of insane cannibals locked inside someone’s blacked out garage.

  The newcomer had pulled out a bunch of gauze and a tube of something. He cut off Mikey’s pants leg and went to town on getting him bandaged up. The big flap of skin dangling off his calf was pretty gross. LeBron thought he might be the next to hurl. The image of a sizzling steak had popped in his head when he saw the pancake sized flap of hairy blood-soaked skin.

  “What about the boat?” Mikey asked.

  “We can’t stay here. We’ve made way too much noise. We’re going to have to find another boat. Hurry up and mount up. We need to get out of here before this place turns into surger central.” LeBron said running over to make sure the back of their truck was shut tight before climbing into the cab. He sat there nervously tapping his fingers on the dash waiting on Mikey to join him. His mind now focused on the task of getting the big rig rolling back out of the driveway. They had to find another boat and they needed to do it fast. His inner voice was screaming at him that he was running out of time. He’d ignored that voice back in the laundry room. He didn’t intend to make that mistake ever again.

  Chapter 29: Full Speed Ahead

  Jeff was in a chair beside the newly sworn in President when the sound of gunfire erupted from down below. Orders were immediately shouted to lock down the bridge. Doors were slammed shut and secured. The monitors were tuned to the insides of the different levels of the superstructure. Visible in the corner of the deck level room of the structure was a pile of the freshly dead. Two Marines with smoking guns stood a few feet from where they’d just mowed down the group of men and women that’d come running in after the President.

  “Why are we letting possibly infected people into the same part of the ship that we’re in?” The shrill voice of the panicked President asked.

  “We’re securing them first in the quarantine area below sir. Any sign of infection and we take care of them sir.” An officer answered the President’s question.

  On the monitor a body shot out of the pile of the dead and took down one of the men holding an M-16. The intertwined pair collapsed to the floor like long lost lovers. The other Marines standing guard on that level walked forward emptying their magazines into the contaminated pair.

  “Take care of them huh?” The President answered sarcastically. “I don’t want to see another member of the crew drag their possibly infected bodies into this part of the ship until I’m off this damned boat. Is that understood?”

  “Yes sir.” The officer said and turned to relay the orders.

  Down on the flight deck a small group of survivors was running towards the superstructure. They were expecting the doors to open and let them in once they got there. They’d be expecting it because that’s what they’d been promised. It figured the only incident from an infected crewmember making it into the room below had happened immediately after the newly sworn in President was in a position to watch the monitors. A surger broke out of the hatch the fleeing crew members had just come out of and gave chase.

  “Sir. Where should we direct the crew to go then? We’re hoping to have a Chinook landing here shortly to start offloading the survivors.” Jeff said.

  “I never really understood what the President saw in you Jeff. Why don’t you stand down and let me run things now? We’ve got a lot of military men up here in this room who can focus on things like where the infected crew can go hide until they turn and eat each other.” The newly sworn in President said dismissively. In a couple of cavalier sentences, he’d just stripped Jeff of his official power. He’d made sure to say it loud enough that the whole bridge heard. Even though they were all pretending not to be listening.


  “Yes sir.” Jeff said quietly and walked back towards the coffee station. He’d have thought shedding all of that responsibility would feel like a massive burden had been lifted from him. Instead, it just felt like he was letting everyone down. He was turning over control to a cowardly old money bureaucrat. Yue was waiting for him by the coffee pot.

  “Excuse me sir but the President has requested you leave the bridge.” A young officer appeared to pass along the order. Jeff nodded and turned towards the door that’d take him up to the air traffic controller level. Yue and Drew followed along behind him as they made their way off the bridge and up to the tower.

  Once up in the tower they were escorted to the section reserved for the crew who made it out of the ship. The President had moved quickly to make sure everyone was informed that Jeff no longer had any official standing.

  “Do you think someone told him you weren’t too excited about sending people down to save him?” Yue asked. They were gathered in their own little corner of the tower. All of them gazing out over the stern at the ocean behind them. It was starting to get rough out there. There were a lot more whitecaps than there’d been even an hour ago. A light rain had started falling.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Word travels fast on a ship full of career politicians.” Jeff said.

  “What politicians? I thought you and the VP were the only two left and I don’t really count you as one.” Drew said.

  “That bridge full of senior officers below. At a certain point merit no longer has much to do with getting promoted.” Jeff explained. Drew nodded his understanding. He’d never really given it much thought, but it had the ring of truth to it. He remembered a friend of his who’d gotten into the Naval Academy at Annapolis. The kid was a straight ‘A’ student. He’d been the captain of the football and wrestling teams at their high school. He was also an Eagle Scout and did all sorts of JROTC and charity events. Even with that kind of resume he’d been rejected when he first applied. His dad’s cousin happened to be dating a Senator at the time. A couple of phone calls to tap into the good old boy network and all of a sudden, he was accepted. All so a Senator could show off to a divorcee he’d met a month prior on match.com.

  “You think that storm’s coming this way?” Yue asked. She pointed at an ominously dark horizon featuring thick black clouds stacked one on top of the other.

  “Where’d that come from? That looks bad.” Drew said in a worried voice. They didn’t really have anyone driving the ship. They were just sort of puttering around in a big circle on cruise control at this point. A cruise to nowhere was how the sailors put it.

  Jeff stared out at the angry looking wall of clouds on the horizon. He breathed in deeply and wished the Marines had heeded him when he hadn’t wanted to rescue the VP from below. He could guess exactly what the man was going to do in this situation. He wasn’t disappointed either. Twenty minutes later the massive Chinook set down in the middle of the flight deck. A group of approximately forty men ran across the tarmac to board the helicopter. The snipers outside on the catwalks kept up a steady barrage on the surgers that popped out occasionally. The group boarded the helicopter which lifted back up, hovered over the ship for a minute, and then was gone.

  “We were ordered to stay up here.” Drew said. He was watching Jeff making his way to the ladder going down to the bridge. Neither Drew nor Jeff seemed overly concerned about what their new constitutionally appointed leader had told them to do.

  “The guy who ordered us to stay here just took the helicopter and left. He probably took all the senior officers with him. I’m thinking they left some numbskull in charge down below with orders to wait for the helicopter to come back. Only it’s not coming back. The new President will just have them fly him all the way to the warehouse or whatever other secret base they have setup around here. He won’t care that he’s signing all of our death warrants by doing that.” Yue said. She hadn’t moved yet. Drew grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him as he went after Jeff.

  “You’re probably right. At this point I’ll help Jeff just to piss off that Presidential prick. Let’s go.” Drew said. Yue shrugged and followed along behind him. She was normally an extremely optimistic person, but this was starting to look really bad. The glass was half empty and had poison in it and it was on fire.

  On the bridge Jeff was yelling at a much shorter man who was yelling right back at him. They were conducting this yelling match in front of a thinned-out audience of men now on the bridge. Drew and Yue hung to the side to watch. The rain was starting to beat down harder on the windows. The snipers on the catwalks were continuing to take almost constant shots at the surgers on the flight deck below. The bright flash of lightning followed seconds later by the rumble of thunder brought the bickering between the two men to a halt.

  “The President isn’t coming back. I know him. He’s a superficial prick. This ship’s done. We have to get everyone off it.” Jeff said as calmly as he could under the circumstances. The Marine the President had placed in charge struggled through a brief series of internal conflicts. He’d just been ordered by the POTUS himself to stand his post and wait for additional orders. The President had assured him they’d be back to help them abandon ship. The Marine wasn’t a fool.

  “How the hell do we get everyone off?” The Marine asked. He’d resigned himself to the possibility of a court martial. He’d rather be convicted than cremated.

  Jeff was struck dumb by the question. How the hell were they going to get everyone off? Jumping overboard and swimming to rafts had been feasible when the weather had been cooperative. With this massive storm coming on it‘d be mass suicide. He took a look at their position on the charts spread out on the navigation table. He was thinking the island they’d originally targeted was going to be useless now as well.

  “Normally for a storm like this the idea would be to run out to the deep water and ride it out. We’ve got an engine room surrounded by crawlerz. We don’t have anyone on the bridge who has experience sailing this thing. Standard operating procedure isn’t going to cut it.” Jeff said thinking fast. There had to be a way out of this mess.

  “What if we go back to the running aground idea? We do it right now. We go full ahead straight for the mouth of that river and see how far we can shove this ship up it before she sticks. Then we jump off and swim for the banks?” Drew brought up his idea in a questioning way to let the others rip it apart as they would. He was hoping if he presented it vaguely that they may feel better about owning the solution themselves. He didn’t want them questioning how desperate they must be to consider the plan of the youngest person on the ship. There were multiple men on the bridge with tattoos that were older than Drew.

  “We aren’t going to be able to save the ship anyway. If she’s turned over in shallow water, we might be able to come back and strip all the supplies out of her once the weather settles down.” One of the men standing around brought up. He was shot down quickly since the ship would still be full of crawlerz. Once they managed to get off this thing none of them were too worried about coming back for salvage. In economic parlance this ship and the supplies on board were now literally considered a sunk cost.

  “What happens when we hit the bottom? Does the ship just stop? With this weather would we be able to jump for it and live?” The questions started flying around. Questions none of them had the answers for. They called up the senior chief who was still stuck below. They were hopeful he’d have insights.

  A brief conversation with the senior chief later they didn’t know much more than they had before they talked to him. It turned out running an aircraft carrier aground to try and survive a zombie outbreak on board wasn’t covered in the standard training the crew received. The engineering room was full of equally unenthusiastic opinions on the likelihood of the running aground plan working. They were quick to point out that if something did happen then smashing nuclear reactors apart on the coastline probably wasn’t the healthiest lifestyle choice they could make.


  “We’re running low on time. Once this storm hits, we’re not going to be able to get off this ship no matter where we are.” One of the men in the group pointed out. Everyone turned to stare at Jeff. Evidently the President hadn’t been able to take away all his power with just a couple of sentences. A natural leader is a natural leader and in times of emergency his words are going to be heeded.

  “Plot a course for the river that comes out by the little island we were trying to make it to. We’ll go full steam ahead and try to ram up that thing as far as we can get. The second we’re stuck it’s every man for himself. Abandon ship and try to get to shore. It’s going to be hell out there on that flight deck now that the sun’s going down. Turn on every light we have. Maybe it’ll give the crew below more of a chance. I also need volunteers to stay in the cat walks and shoot as many of the crawlerz as they can.” Jeff said.

  His words spurred action. They all felt the ship kick into high speed. The bow felt as if it were lifting into the air. In the dying light they could make out a very respectable rooster tail being kicked up behind them. The sub had disappeared around the same time as the President had flown off the carrier. Not that it’d attempt to follow them where they were going anyway.