“Then we need to offer assistance.”
“No. Command told us to hold firm, so we hold and await orders.”
Tosco grunted. “The men are unsettled, Captain. Many have family working in the city. In the time it takes to wait for orders, people will die.”
Guy said nothing, just examined his second-in-command carefully. Eventually, he said, in a voice that brooked no argument, “There are ten officers aboard this ship, Lieutenant, and sixty enlisted seamen. If you are suggesting we will have some kind of disruption on our hands, it would lead me to seriously doubt your credentials as my senior officer.”
Tosco bristled, pointy ears twitching beneath the brim of his officer’s cap. “Everything is under control, Captain. I just felt it my duty to inform you of the men’s feelings.”
“Noted, Lieutenant, but you’re not running a union. You carry out my orders, not theirs. Go and perform a weapons check and put the crew on high alert. If we do get instructions to head into harbour, I want us to be ready.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Tosco snapped off a sloppy salute and stormed away.
Guy exhaled. His second-in-command was becoming a problem of late. Too ambitious and bull-headed to accept orders without complaint, James Tosco had reached a stage where he obviously felt he should be commanding his own ship. A strapping lad of thirty, smart and athletic, he certainly had the aptitude for command, but this was Guy’s ship, and he did not tolerate insubordination, or a negative attitude from anyone. You let things slide once and you gave the go ahead to be undermined at every turn.
He would need to deal with Lieutenant Tosco.
Chief Petty Officer, and Guy’s oldest friend, Frank Jacobs, gave him a sheepish grin that suggested he wanted to be of use. The man’s chubby brown cheeks had sagged in old age and his once fuzzy black hair was now brittle and white. He looked older than usual, and worried.
“This isn’t going to be a good day, is it, Captain?”
Guy placed his binoculars down on the desk and said, “I’m thinking not. We heard anything back from Command yet?”
“Nothing other than instructions to hold ready. They don’t seem to understand what’s going on either. Apparently, it has something to do with that strange black stone they found in Central Park this morning. It exploded or something.”
“They say there are matching stones all over the country.”
“All over the world,” Frank corrected. “My aunt in Trinidad said there’s one right in the middle of town, next to the laundrette.”
“How is your aunt?”
“Eighty-eight and still growing her own strawberries. They’re the most delicious things you ever tasted, Captain.”
Guy grinned, then spoke more seriously, “What do you think is happening, Frank? Has New York been attacked again?”
“After 9/11, I don’t see how any attack could succeed. Every inch of New York is covered by half-a-dozen security cameras. You only have to utter the word bomb and Homeland will turn up on your doorstep ready to waterboard you. Whatever this stone they found in the park is, I don’t think it’s the work of terrorists. I’m not sure if I feel better or worse about that.”
Guy raised an eyebrow. “You’re not one of those who believes it’s aliens?”
“I don’t know what I believe, just have a bad feeling, that’s all. I’m an old man, Captain, and my waters tell me this will be a long day.”
“Well, whatever happened is still going on. Is Tosco right, Frank? Should we be helping?”
“We do as we’re commanded.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
Guy chuckled. “I’ve known you twenty years, Frank, and I don’t think I’ve ever once seen you break a rule.”
“I leave that to men like you. If you want to help, then help. Long as I follow your orders, I’m doing my job. It’s for you to worry about what Command will think.”
Guy looked back through his binoculars and was certain that the devastation had doubled in just the last five minutes. More fires had taken hold, and Army helicopters zipped across an ever expanding area like hungry buzzards. Brooklyn remained quiet, but Roosevelt Island was aflame and the chaos had begun snatching at the fringes of Long Island.
“Take us a quarter-mile into the Upper Bay, Frank. I want to see if our help will even make a difference before I think about lending it.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Guy left the pilothouse and headed down to the armoury. He expected to find Lieutenant Tosco there, but instead, he found two ensigns and a dozen enlisted sailors. They stood to attention when they saw him approach.
Guy waved a hand. “At ease. How goes it?”
Ensign Lucy Smith answered, “Lieutenant Tosco asked us to ready weapons and ammunition, sir.”
Guy nodded, pleased that Tosco had carried out his orders as requested. “Good.”
“How long until we enter the harbour, Captain?”
“Who said we’re going into harbour, Ensign Smith?”
“Oh, I… My mistake, Captain. I just assumed.”
Guy gritted his teeth. Tosco had been getting ahead of himself. “No decision has been made whether to head into harbour, Ensign, so do not pre-empt my orders.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Do we know what’s happening out there, Captain?” asked one of the ship’s mechanics, Seaman Biggins.
Ensign Smith shouted at him. “Biggins! Do not address the captain unless you are spoken to.”
Guy waved a hand. “It’s okay, Ensign. Truthfully, Seaman Biggins, I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s not anything good. As soon as Command gives an update, I will share it with the crew.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“You’re welcome. Now, where is Lieutenant Tosco?”
Ensign Smith pointed towards the wide shutter at the end of the storage area. “Out on launch deck prepping the Jayhawk.”
Guy gave a slight nod and marched away. “As you were, sailors.”
He went over to the shutter and raised it. The wind came rushing in, along with the sound of distant chaos from Manhattan. Tosco was indeed outside on the launch deck, sitting inside the Jayhawk rescue helicopter and running system checks. The main rotor spun and the rear prop propeller whirred in fits and spurts.
“Everything nominal, Lieutenant?”
“I’m still running checks, but aye, sir.”
“Why did you tell Ensign Smith that we’re heading into the harbour?”
“I said we need to prepare to go into harbour.”
“You can see her confusion.”
Tosco stopped flipping switches for a moment and stared at Guy. “It’s only a matter of time before Command gives orders to head in. People are in trouble, and we’re floating out here doing nothing when we should be helping.”
“What we do is entirely my decision, Lieutenant. You give orders without my say so and you’ll find yourself working a tugboat in the Arctic.”
“Don’t threaten me, sir.”
“It’s no threat.”
Tosco hopped out of the helicopter and faced Guy down. “Times have changed. The Coast Guard doesn’t pull drowning fishermen out of the sea anymore. We fight drug lords and human traffickers. We are men of action.”
“If you want to fight so badly, Lieutenant, I suggest you transfer to the Navy. They would be glad to have you.”
Tosco rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in fighting foreign wars. I am a Coast Guard because I want to protect the shores of my country. Right now, I am failing to do that. The citizens of New York need us.”
“The men on this ship need you, Lieutenant. They need you to do your job and carry out my orders. Undermine me and you jeopardise the safety of the crew.”
“Then don’t give me a reason to undermine you, Captain”
Tosco went to walk away, but Guy stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Do you know what it takes to send a man to the brig, Lieutenant? My say so, that’s all. It’s been some
time since I’ve had to lock a man up, but go and ask Chief Petty Officer Jacobs if I’m willing to do it. I once locked him up for six weeks without letting him out.”
Tosco looked surprised as Guy hoped he would be.
He capitalised on the advantage by continuing. “That’s right, Lieutenant. Frank Jacobs is my oldest friend, and about the straightest shooter you could ever hope to meet, but even he got on the wrong side of me once. Let’s see how you fare if I deem you guilty of insubordination. Or even if you just piss me off.”
Tosco licked his lips and kept quiet.
“I will take your silence as a good sign. I appreciate your initiative on checking the response vehicles. Carry on. I’ll let you know if you’re needed.”
Guy marched away, just as the ship lifted anchor and began to turn starboard.
“Captain!” Tosco shouted after him.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“We’re moving. Are we heading into harbour?”
“It’s very likely, yes.”
“Then why give me such a hard time if you agreed with me all along?”
“Because it’s not my job to agree with you, Lieutenant. It’s your job to agree with me.”
***
“We’re just coming up to a half-mile out,” Frank informed Guy when he reached the pilothouse. “What do you want to do, Captain?”
Guy picked up his binoculars and took another glance at the city. From nearer shore, he could make out the snarled traffic and panicking mobs of people. There was full-scale panic in Manhattan, but it was still unclear why. People leapt from the docks into the water, or clambered into boats. Small pleasure craft joined giant transporters as a mass exodus headed for the sea. Those unlucky enough to miss a chance at boarding a vessel now flailed about in the river, heads bobbing under for several seconds at a time before reappearing. People were drowning.
Guy decided. “We’re heading into harbour, but keep our approach slow. There’s a lot of traffic coming our way.”
“Tosco will think he got his own way,” Frank commented.
“Aye, but he might reconsider his attitude going forward. I told him about the time I locked you in the brig for six weeks.”
Frank looked at him and frowned. “You mean when I had a staph infection and you had to quarantine me? And it was less than two weeks.”
“Yes, but Lieutenant Tosco doesn’t know that. He thinks I left the most honest man on board to rot. It should remind him who’s in charge.”
Frank chuckled. “With no time to spare too. Any more lip from him and I was going to throw him overboard myself.”
“I can deal with Lieutenant Tosco.”
“I know you can, but I’d hate to see you get your hands dirty. The crew likes the Lieutenant and they won’t be pleased if you take a firm hand against him.”
“They don’t have to like it, Frank; only understand what happens when you question the captain of this ship. Now, take us into harbour, Chief Petty.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
***
They almost collided with a millionaire’s catamaran on the way into harbour, but they eventually managed to navigate their way to the docks of the Hudson River. From there they had no need of binoculars to see the devastation. The senior officers, and a portion of the crew, were all standing inside the pilothouse, staring out the window at a scene none of them could understand.
In New York, shell-shocked victims staggered down the streets in various states of ruin, blood covering most of them and many mortally wounded. One old man carried his own severed arm around with him in a bewildered daze, while a sobbing younger woman held a bundle of gore-streaked rags that might have been a baby.
Tosco was shaking his head. “What in God’s name has happened?”
Guy wished he had the answer, but it continued to elude him. All that was clear was that some disaster had befallen Manhattan—possibly, dare he even think it, something worse than 9/11. “Has Command come back to us yet?” he asked Frank.
“No, you want me to hail them?”
“Yes.”
Frank got on the radio. “USCG Hatchet to District Command. Over.”
“District Command receiving you loud. Over.”
“Requesting permission to carry out rescue mission in New York Harbour. Injured civilians identified. Over.”
“Negative. Please change course to U.S. Naval Base Norfolk. Over.”
Guy took the intercom. “Captain Guy Granger speaking here. Can you explain why I am to redirect the Hatchet to Naval Base Norfolk? Over.”
“United States Navy has taken command of District Coast Guard. We are to relinquish authority to Norfolk immediately. Over.”
Guy had a bad feeling. The Navy only took control of the Coast Guard during times of war or national emergency. “Command, there are civilians here who need us. Requesting permission to stage a rescue attempt before relinquishing authority to U.S. Navy. Over.”
“Negative. Over.”
Guy stamped his foot. “Goddamn it, man. People are drowning in the Hudson River. Are you telling me to leave American civilians to die?”
There was silence on the line. Then came a shaky reply, “You are in command of the Hatchet, Captain Granger. Do as you will.”
The line went dead.
Guy clenched his jaw and thought things through. He didn’t understand what had happened in Manhattan, but Command had ordered him to redirect to Norfolk. The Navy had taken control, and it would be foolish to disobey them.
People continued hurling themselves into the Hudson.
The Navy took lives. The Coast Guard saved them.
Guy made up his mind. “I want two teams of eight in Rapid 1 and Rapid 2. There are too many birds in the sky to risk launching the Jayhawk, so we concentrate on the people in the river. Tosco, get men on the .50 cals this second, but they don’t start firing without my word. If there are enemies in the city, I want to be prepared.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Tosco saluted, turned on his heel, and raced to put words into action.
Guy turned to Frank next. “What are these people so afraid of? Do you have any idea what’s happening?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it, Captain. There are people on the docks with limbs missing. It’s a war zone.”
It wasn’t an exaggeration. Even now, Guy could see mangled men and women throwing themselves into the water rather than facing whatever was occurring behind them. They were drowning quicker than he could spot them. “We need to move fast.”
Frank placed a hand on Guy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
***
Considering half the men serving aboard the Hatchet had never seen real action, they carried themselves well. The rapid response boats dropped down onto the water and were away in moments. Each sailor took a firearm, but only a handgun—rifles would only frighten the civilians more. If bigger weapons were needed, the boats would return to ship.
Within ten minutes, the two rescue crafts were packed full of half-drowned people and on their way home. The first groups of survivors were laid down on the launch deck and the ship’s doctor, Gonzalez—a loaner from the U.S. Public Health Service—checked them over. The healthiest survivor was escorted to the pilothouse and brought before Guy. The teenage Avengers fan—judging by his garish t-shirt—was stained with blood and mucky with Hudson water, but he was free from injury aside from a superficial gash across his left brow. Blood had leaked into his left eye and dried so that it was now stuck half-closed. His long hair was so filthy that it appeared brown when it was probably ash blond.
Guy handed the kid a coffee. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Simon.”
“Hello, Simon. I am Captain Guy Granger, and this is my ship. You are currently in the care of the United States Coast Guard. Are you able to tell me what happened?”
“No. I mean… Yes, but you won’t believe me. It’s crazy.”
“Allow me to be the judge of that. Please
, tell me as best you can.”
“Monsters.”
Guy leaned forward to hear more. “Monsters?”
“Yeah, and I don’t mean figuratively. That black stone in the park opened a big, glowing gate and something came through. A monster, twenty feet tall with wings.”
Guy cleared his throat. “Did you say, wings?”
“Yeah, but they were all burned up and useless. Just bones, really, but you can tell they used to be wings.”
“You’re saying that Manhattan was attacked by a giant monster? Like, Godzilla or something?”
Nobody in the room laughed. There had been too much bloodshed. The kid telling the story was deadly serious, and because of that they were able to stay focused on what he was saying—as ludicrous as it sounded. “I know it sounds crazy,” the kid admitted, “but it’s the God’s honest. That black stone opened some kind of gate, and the Devil came through. It’s Lucifer, dude. The end of the world, and we’re all screwed.”
Guy exchanged a glance with Frank that told him they were both thinking the same thing. The kid was suffering with shock. Nothing could be gained by further questioning. “Okay, Simon,” said Guy. “One of my men will take you back outside for treatment. We’ll get you back on land someplace safe as soon as we can.”
Simon nodded and stood up, but before he allowed himself to be led away, he turned back to Guy. “I haven’t told you everything. After the Devil came through, there was an army.”
Guy folded his arms and gave the kid his attention. “Tell me about the army.”
“Men, like you and me, dude, but all burned up, like they just stepped out of a fire. They came right out of the gate in a big group and started attacking everyone. I was working at an office on 65th Street—sixteenth floor. I saw it all.”
“Why did you leave?”
The kid looked sad. “Because my girlfriend works at the zoo. I wanted to get to her. I… I still don’t know if she’s okay.”
Guy put his hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Give your girlfriend’s details to one of my men, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“Thanks, dude—uh, Captain.”
“You can call me Guy.”
The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel Page 5