by J. W. Vohs
Jack saw his buddy’s easily recognizable, bright red helmet among a group of fighters standing above several ropes dangling over the channel from the bottom of the platform. He piloted the two watercraft below the area where Carter and his team were waiting, almost smiling as the heavily armored fighters in large motorcycle helmets struggled to slide down the ropes into the waiting boats without tipping the craft. Once they were all down Jack gave the four soldiers a chance to get settled before shouting to Carter through his visor, “So what’s your plan?”
Carter flipped Jack off before shouting, “We just got a message from two of our guys stuck up a tree near one of the north-side fires. They can see Tina and John’s crew trapped up on the roof of that buildin’ close to the beach.” He held up his .45 auto and continued, “Yer gonna drop me and my men off about a hundred meters down the beach from where they’re trapped. I’m gonna start shootin’ and yellin’ like crazy right at the water’s edge, and these guys will cover me with their halberds. Yer gonna duck down below the gunwale and take the boats along the beach to the closest point to John and Tina. If they’re too dumb to realize they have to make a break for it right then I guess we don’t need ‘em anymore.”
Jack just shook his head before shouting back, “That’s the craziest plan I ever heard! How are you and your men gonna escape?”
“After you got John and Tina’s team we’re gonna head out into the deep water and you’re gonna come along and pick us up.”
“There isn’t enough room in these boats for everyone,” Jack protested.
“Listen, dummy,” Carter shouted in response, “we’ll hold onto the gunwales while ya pull all of us out into deeper water. Once we’re away from the hunters we’ll figure out what to do.”
“Fine,” Jack yelled, “but even if you live through this one I’m telling Deb.”
“Just put us on the beach ya big sissy.”
Tina had known desperation and limb-shaking fear during the Battle of Hunters Ridge, when she’d led a dozen fighters against over three hundred zombies in the early days of the outbreak. Still, even during the worst moments of that fight, she hadn’t known the despair she now felt washing over her. She couldn’t hold her halberd anymore, because her right arm wasn’t working. A few minutes earlier a big hunter had leapt over the body of its dead pack mate and crashed into the diminutive woman, smashing her to the ground where she felt something snap in her shoulder just before her arm went numb. John had immediately crushed the creature’s head with a mace and tossed its corpse off of his wife, but the scream that escaped her lips as he pulled her to her feet was a sound he’d never heard from the tough-as-nails Iraqi War veteran.
There was no time to do anything but leave her standing there as he turned around to fend off the three hunters seeking to come through the opening in the circle that Tina’s brief absence had created, and by the time he was able to check on her again she had her .22 pistol out and was shakily trying to make head-shots against running hunters with her off-hand.
Tina missed her first three shots but quickly began to get the hang of shooting left-handed. Her squad sergeant in the Army believed that everyone should be able to use their sidearm with either hand, and he had forced them to practice all the time. She was nowhere near as good at shooting with her left hand as she was with her right, but when the flesh-eaters were close enough for her to smell their rancid breath she discovered that they were difficult to miss. Still, they’d lost another soldier fifteen minutes earlier, and the survivors were now beyond exhaustion as they’d been fighting without a break for well over an hour. Ancient warriors in the movies could swing swords and axes all day long without tiring, but Tina had learned during her first post-outbreak fight that the reality was very different. Now her troops were at the end of their strength.
Suddenly, she could hear a steady booming of gunfire over the howls and snarls of the attacking creatures. For a moment everything seemed to pause as both the hunters and soldiers wondered who was making all the noise. Then Tina quickly noticed a group of soldiers standing knee-deep in the lake about a hundred meters away, with four of the fighters positioned around a lone gunman whom she recognized as Carter because of his distinctive helmet. The next thing she saw was two boats slowly travelling her way, and from her vantage point Jack could be seen hunched down below the gunwales with one gloved hand wrapped around the handle of the trolling motor. As the vessels approached the shore she realized what Jack was trying to accomplish, and she shouted for everyone to prepare to make a run for the water’s edge on her command.
The fighting on the roof had noticeably slackened as large groups of hunters broke off the difficult attack on the building and turned their attention to the humans standing on the ground. Tina’s fighters managed to launch a final counterattack that drove the remaining hunters from the top of the structure, then found themselves able to spear the few monsters that were still trying to get at them by climbing the wall. While they were holding the roof, Tina watched as Jack beached the two boats and then surprised everyone by leaping onto shore and pulling his pistol while he ran to the top of a mound of sand that had been dumped in preparation for a summer beach season that never arrived.
The seemingly fearless Ranger, who was in reality a master of hiding his fear through action, instantly began gunning down attacking hunters from his perch on the sand-pile. Whether it was the sound of Jack shouting at the monsters, or a signal hidden in the guttural howls made by the infected when close to their prey, the attention of most of the remaining creatures gathered near the building Tina and her soldiers had been defending was now drawn toward the waterline. Hunters were still trying to scramble up the wall on the side of the facility facing away from the lake, so Tina knew it was basically now or never for an escape try.
She replaced the clip in her .22, discovering to her dismay that it was the last one she had available, and shouted over the noise of battle for her soldiers to make a run for the boats. Tina knew all of the fighters were well-trained, but she was still surprised at how quickly everyone turned and ran to the edge of the roof facing the water. For a brief second the soldiers stopped to locate their landing spots, then they all jumped from places no more than ten feet above the ground. The soldiers rolled as best they could in all of their gear, then everyone was on their feet protecting John and several others who waited to catch Tina as she left the roof at its lowest point.
Incredibly, nobody had injured themselves in any way that interfered with their ability to run, and the fighters rapidly covered the short distance to the lake. The boats were immediately turned outward and pushed toward the depths as the escaping soldiers scrambled into the craft, and seconds later Jack came splashing through the deepening water and was pulled aboard by several troops who’d just killed the four hunters following him from the beach. Dozens of infected thrashed about in the shallows, howling their frustration as the prey that had been so close now pulled away from them. Further up the beach, Carter and his men were all standing in shoulder-deep water waiting to be picked up, using halberds to keep the hunters brave enough to follow them from coming closer than the eight-foot shafts of their weapons would allow.
Jack was once again guiding the overloaded boats by steering the handle of the trolling motor, and within seconds he had pulled close enough for Carter’s team to grab the gunwales so they could be towed out into the lake. A few minutes later they found a sandbar in four feet of water, and Jack told the already soaked soldiers to wait there while he took Tina and her team to the relative safety of the nearest fighting platform. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for the spent fighters as the first rays of the day’s sun finally shone over the now sparkling water, but soon everyone was on dry ground as the fighting slowed to manageable levels and the troops guarding the palisaded platforms could actually rotate in shifts off the line for short food and water breaks.
By noon Jack realized that the intensity of the attacks had dropped considerably, and mes
sages from the two men still stuck in a tree on the northeast side of the park reported that the only creatures still straggling in were slow-moving zombies. No helicopters had been sighted by any of the guards or scout teams still deployed throughout the area, so for now The Castle’s inhabitants and their allies appeared to have contained the threat that the massive horde had presented just twelve hours earlier. The last of the infected making up the monster army wouldn’t be killed until two days later, but everyone knew the Battle of Chain-O-Lakes had been won.
Chapter 17
The sun was high in the sky over Lake Erie as the last of the boats from the expedition to Buffalo limped into the small harbor on Middle Bass Island. Two of the National Guard soldiers who had taken up residence on the island had been killed in action, and of the over four hundred refugees and soldiers who had been reported trapped in the makeshift fortress commanded by Sergeant Chad Greenburg, only two hundred and thirty-four were on the yachts. One of the men had come aboard with a severe bite on his hand and had been isolated in the hope that he wouldn’t turn. As far as they all knew, everyone who’d ever been bitten by one of the infected had turned, but hope dies hard in the human spirit.
David had three cracked ribs and was lying on his side in the cabin where Luke and the National Guard officer had been placed after they were given CPR. Luke was sitting up on his bunk, still hacking and coughing drops of Lake Erie from his aching lungs as he looked out of the window to watch the yacht slowly drifting toward one of the larger berths in the docks. The lieutenant was also recovering from his near-drowning, and after a long sleep and countless coughing episodes he finally found the strength to look over at Luke and whisper, “Thanks for saving me back there.”
Luke just stared for several long heartbeats before responding with a raw, raspy voice, “You and your men stood shoulder to shoulder with us during a suicidal mission; I wasn’t going to just let you sink to the bottom of Lake Erie. Besides, I happen to care about Brittany a lot, and I could tell she really wanted you to make it back.”
The weakened soldier couldn’t help but smile at the mention of his girl, and he declared, “I already owed you my thanks for saving her and her sister from those bastards on North Bass. Now, it looks like I really owe you big-time.”
Luke just shrugged and explained, “You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t save Brittany—she saved herself, and her sister, when she had the opportunity. My group just had the manpower and the firepower to back her up when she let us know what was going on. It was a team effort.” He took a small sip of water before continuing in a throaty whisper, “We’ve been fighting for our existence since the outbreak started. These people have saved my life before and I’ve saved theirs. You held the line on that dock that allowed Gracie and other people I love to escape; two of your men died during the fight. I guess we all just owe each other.”
The lieutenant bowed his head for a moment before sharing, “My entire platoon was on temporary duty at Fort Drum, New York, when the virus first appeared in D.C.. Most of the Tenth Mountain Division normally stationed there was deployed overseas, but everything the Army did have on base was mobilized and sent to Buffalo and Syracuse. The four of us that you met on the island were all that survived from my outfit, and very few soldiers from the other units lived through the assault when the infected took over Buffalo. Whoever was commanding that goat-rope broke us up into small teams and positioned us all over the metro area. We had some armor, machine-guns, and small arms and grenades, but as I’m sure you know by now, eventually we were down to knives and clubs. We didn’t have a chance.
“Four of us managed to fight our way down to the waterfront with nothing but bayonets and rifle-stocks. I didn’t know at the time that Sergeant Greenburg was building a fort a few miles east of where we found a boat or we would have gone there first. Instead, we took that cabin cruiser and got the hell out of Buffalo. Travelled around the lake looking for survivors and supplies for a few months but we found little of either. Eventually we checked out Middle Bass and found the community still living there. Since then we’ve kept ourselves based on the island, but we still travel the lakeshore to see if we can help out anywhere. Now there are just two of us. First officer I run into I’m resigning my commission and staying with Brittany and the rest of the settlement. I’m done playing hero.”
Luke smiled as if he knew a secret and said, “I doubt that the forces that have led you to play hero are done with you, Lieutenant. Nobody will ever be truly safe until we’ve wiped the infected from the face of the earth. We’re at war with an enemy determined to kill and eat every one of us, and even if we quit fighting, the other side sure as hell won’t. They may be physically evolving, but it’s done nothing for their charming personalities.”
The Lieutenant began to chuckle, and his quiet laugh quickly turned into another hacking spell. When he could finally breath again he wiped his chin and mouth off on a towel someone had given him the night before and agreed, “I know it. But I’m not gonna be looking for trouble for a while.”
Luke nodded, “I understand how you feel. The problem is that trouble is looking for us, and it never gives up until we destroy its brain. By the way, I don’t want to keep calling you ‘Lieutenant.’ I know your last name is Heder, but what’s your first name?”
“Well, I got stuck with one of my grandpa’s names. Mom and Dad named me Franklin, but seeing as how nobody liked to call me that, or Frank, I ‘ve always gone by my nickname.”
Luke waited expectantly for at least ten seconds before asking, “Which is?”
The Lieutenant briefly hesitated before shrugging and saying, “Everyone calls me Red, on account of my hair.”
Luke tried to stifle his urge to laugh, which prompted another brief coughing fit. When he could get his breath, he choked out, “So your name is Red Heder?”
“Yeah,” the young man sighed, “I guess God does have a sense of humor.”
“Heck, Red, I think maybe God’s been trying to tell you that you should have stuck with Frank.”
For the first time since the relief expedition had left the island a few days earlier, Lieutenant Heder’s face lit up in a genuine smile. “You know what, Luke, I think you and me are gonna be good friends. You can start by calling me Frank.”
The remainder of the afternoon and evening was spent placing the refugees into shelters that had been prepared in advance. The little clinic on Middle Bass was overwhelmed with the number of injured people needing attention, as the one doctor, physician’s assistant, and four nurses amongst the entire population struggled to find time for everyone hurt in the fighting and frenzied evacuation. Luke still felt as if he’d almost died, which indeed he had, but he managed to find the energy to sit with some of the people awaiting medical attention and do his best to keep their minds occupied with anything other than their pain. Gracie stayed right next to him the entire time, and Red and Brittany were doing the same thing nearby.
By late afternoon, news filtered through the clinic about the man who’d been isolated after being bitten by one of the hunters. When the chills started, he’d asked to see his best friend. They had a pact about this sort of thing, and no one questioned the dying man’s wishes. A lot of people had made similar arrangements, though no one could say which end of the bargain was the most objectionable.
By sunset all of the injured had been seen at least once, and the refugees from Buffalo had roofs over their heads and stomachs full of food. David was breathing without too much discomfort, though he suspected the Percocet flowing through his system was helping to mask the pain in his ribs. The truth was, he ached all over; everyone who’d been engaged in the battle was bruised, battered, and thoroughly exhausted. Nevertheless, at nine-o-clock, he joined Father O’Brien and the rest of The Castle’s fighters in the room that held the transmitter for the radio that was finally ready for a test run.
After being assured that everything was ready to go, David pressed the button on the mike and called out, �
��Castle One, Castle One, this is David, over.”
Just as he was ready to try again a female voice he didn’t recognized came over the receiver loud and clear, “David, this is Castle One. You’re coming through just fine. If you can hold for a few minutes I’ll find Jack and bring him in; I know he’s been hoping to hear from you.”
“Sure, Castle One, just have him call for us over this frequency when he’s ready.”
In less than two minutes Jack’s voice rang out clearly over the air, “What’s the news from Middle Bass?”
Taking David by surprise, the first thing that popped into his head was Maggie’s smiling face in Luke’s family photo. He quickly pushed that image aside and focused on the immediate issues at hand. “I’m not sure where to begin—we’re sitting pretty here for now, but we’ve seen coordinated attacks by large groups of hunters, and we’ve helped rescue another group of refugees from Buffalo. Several Blackhawk helicopters flew over their compound before they got a visit from some military guy claiming he represented the US government. He demanded their surrender, so they didn’t let him in. The next thing they knew they were under a massive hunter attack.” David paused to give Jack a chance to process this new and disturbing information.