Domain of the Dead

by Iain McKinnon

  Nathan spun around to take in the whole room. “What the hell happened here?”

  “Good news: battery power is up,” Bates said, looking up at the lights.

  “What about the radio?” Sarah asked. “Where do we start?”

  Bates walked over to a station at the back of the bridge. “Be quicker if I do it. You two stand guard. One of you on the door we came in and one of you watching the access to the deck.”

  Nathan gave a weak nod of agreement to Sarah.

  “You managing okay, Nathan? You look like shit,” Bates said.

  “Is that your way of an apology?!” Nathan snarled. “What the fuck do you care anyway?”

  Bates was worried by the green tinge to Nathan’s skin. “I mean if—”

  “Just fucking leave it!” Nathan growled back.

  Bates put his hand in the air in mocking surrender.

  Nathan turned his back on Bates to look out of the window onto the deck.

  “Guess I’ll take the door we came in then,” Sarah said, taking up position.

  Bates placed his gun down next to the console he was operating and started checking the radio.

  Nathan was staring at a blood streak across the windowpane. “I don’t get it. If there’s blood, where did the bridge crew go?”

  “Abandoned ship maybe?” Sarah offered.

  “Ah, shit!” Bates cursed.

  Panic rose in Sarah’s voice. “Is it broken?!”

  Bates stood over the controls, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t think so. It’s just...”

  “Just what?” Nathan demanded.

  “It’s just so difficult with only my left hand,” Bates said, looking at the dressing on his stump.

  Sarah could sense the despair and frustration simmering inside him. She knew he had to keep it together, otherwise they were all lost. Now that there was a lull there was time to reflect on what had happened to him. He was going into shock, but Sarah knew they were far from safe. She had to keep him focused.

  “Jennifer, go help Bates,” Sarah said. “He’ll tell you which buttons to press.”

  Jennifer walked over to Bates, slipping her small hand into his. She stood on tip-toe to see the radio. Bates looked down at the elfin face and smiled.

  “Come here,” he said, lifting her up.

  After a few giggles and a bit of instruction, Bates announced, “This should be it.”

  “We can get a signal out?” Sarah asked.

  “We can try,” Bates said with a shrug. “There’s no guarantee.”

  Nathan leapt back from the window, his gun raised. “What was that?”

  Sarah levelled her gun and scanned the room. “What was what?”

  Nathan stepped forward and tried to peer past his reflection. “Outside the window.”

  The radio crackled behind them.

  “This is the research vessel Ishtar calling the Pskov. Come in please.” Bates let go of the talk button on the microphone.

  Eerie white noise of static filled the bridge.

  Sarah tried to listen for a reply while looking through the reflection-glazed window.

  The static waxed and waned, the odd blip catching the ear, the survivors all trying to twist the sounds into something audible. Outside a surge of rain lashed the bridge window, sending thick streams of water trickling down the pane.

  “Was that movement?” Nathan asked.

  “Could have been the spray from a wave,” Sarah said.

  Satisfied he wasn’t going to talk over a response, Bates tried again. “This is the research vessel Ishtar calling the Pskov. Respond please.”

  “Sarah, turn the lights off.” Nathan waved at her to go to the wall switch.

  Sarah hesitated.

  A ghostly voice wafted from the radio, “This is the Pskov. Go ahead.”

  Bates looked over at Sarah, a triumphant grin across his face.

  Smack!

  The bridge glass vibrated from the force of the impact. A bloodstained and pale crewman threw himself at the window right in front of Nathan.

  Nathan jumped and from shear panic shot at the zombie.

  “No!” Bates screamed as the panoramic window burst open.

  The millions of shards of glass crashed to the floor and the raw elements forced their way through. The rain-laden wind wrapped itself around the new access and came howling into the bridge.

  The sudden gust of icy wind blinded everyone—everyone who was alive.

  The zombie, pushed by the wind and no longer excluded by the window, fell into the bridge. Behind it, more of the deceased crew clambered over the shards of glass, lured to the bridge by the noise and the light.

  Nathan pointed his gun at the zombie as it tumbled through the open window. He yelled, “Fuck you!” and pulled the trigger at point-blank range. A spray of blood exploded into the air and up his face. He recoiled and spit in revulsion. “Shit.”

  Sarah caught Nathan drawing back from the corner of her eye. She turned for a fraction of a second, concerned that he was all right. When she turned back a zombie was upon her.

  The dead crewman’s hands lashing out at her, Sarah pushed the gun up at the creature and fired. The shot sliced through the zombie crewman’s shoulder, pushing it off balance. Still striking out at the human in front of it, the zombie fell forward, crashing into the warm flesh.

  Hit by the full weight of the drenched dead man and trying to defend herself at the same time, Sarah couldn’t step out of the way quick enough. The two of them toppled to the deck. Sarah hit the ground hard. The gun slipped from her grasp and skidded across the floor.

  A pair of dead hands grabbed Sarah by the shoulders as the zombie hauled itself up for a bite.

  Through a throbbing head and double vision, Sarah saw the cadaver bear down on her. She threw one arm out wildly grasping for her dropped gun. The other arm she wedged under the zombie’s chin hard against its throat.

  She screamed as her broken fingers jarred against the zombie’s neck. The whip of pain caused her to lose her grasp. The zombie slipped down her arm and landed on top of her.

  Water trickled of its sodden hair, down over its snarling face, dripping onto Sarah’s chest. Its eyes fixed on Sarah, its jaw chewing the open air. It raised itself up for a bite.

  Sarah wedged her forearm under the gnashing jaw, pushing the creature away from her. If this had been a living person the pressure on their windpipe would have suffocated them, but the zombie continued to bear down, snarling and snapping its teeth.

  Gulping in exhausted breaths, Sarah knew she couldn’t fend off the ghoul much longer.

  “Aim your shots!” Bates bellowed at Nathan furiously.

  Nathan was firing shot after shot at the encroaching zombies. Most of his shots were wild. His gun stalled. The covering over the barrel slid back and stayed there, exposing the empty chamber.

  Nathan fumbled with the ammo pouch, desperately trying to release a fresh clip.

  A zombie lurched forward, bringing itself face to face with Nathan. Nathan gasped and threw his empty gun down. He pulled the zipper on the vest pocket that held his second gun, but the zombie had already sprung its attack. The dead man’s teeth bit down hard on the collar of Nathan’s tactical vest. He felt tremendous pressure as the zombie’s teeth bore down.

  Ignoring the second gun, Nathan elbowed the creature off him, and with the extra space between them he put his whole body behind a shove. The palsied muscles of the zombie couldn’t react against Nathan’s aggression and it stumbled backwards, falling over the window frame back out of the bridge.

  Nathan looked down at where the zombie had bitten. On the thick weave of the vest was an imprint of the zombie’s dentition and a glistening pool of saliva. The vest’s fabric was indeed bite proof.

  Bates grabbed for his gun sitting on the console. But his left hand wasn’t as dextrous as his lost right. In his clumsy attempt to snatch the gun, he nudged it from its seating and the weapon skidded off the desk onto the deck. Bending down to re
trieve it, Bates was confronted by a deceased sailor. His blue fatigues were rain soaked and clung to his dead body. His face was vacant and a shrivelled ghostly white. The misty eyes looked down, but passed Bates.

  The zombie flung itself not at Bates—but at Jennifer.

  From his squat position on the deck, Bates leapt sideways with an explosive burst of strength. He threw his left arm around the girl as he lunged.

  Jennifer screamed as she was tossed across the room, landing at the doorway they had come in.

  Bates flipped round to see the zombie lying where Jennifer had stood. Behind the animated corpse lay the gun Bates had fumbled.

  The zombie crawled forward with wet slaps of its sodden hands and knees. Its advance was checked by the hard smack of rubber-soled boots. Supporting himself on his good arm, Bates kicked out with his sturdy military boots. Blow after blow fell about the zombie’s head and face, the hard slap of rubber joined by the squelching crunch of snapped cartilage as the zombie’s nose was repeatedly stamped flat.

  With no regard for the ferocity of the pounding, the zombie crawled on through the blows, intent on its meal. Following it now were a group of equally ravenous corpses.

  Jennifer stood flat against the door out of the bridge. There were zombies everywhere and only Nathan was still standing. Suddenly she felt a change in pressure behind her. The door at her back fell away. Jennifer turned to see it swing open, revealing an ominous figure looming over her.

  Angel stepped onto the bridge. Her plaster cast on her left arm was blood splattered, her uniform grimy and dishevelled. Strands of her long auburn hair had been wrestled free from her tight ponytail. The sniper’s porcelain skin was smudged with dirt, but her light brown eyes looked like burnished bronze.

  Angel looked down at Jennifer and gave her a reassuring wink as she stepped onto the bridge.

  Bates kicked out at the zombie at his feet but the cadaver keeled over. He froze in surprise, then saw the bullet hole. He saw a figure out of the corner of his eye and braced himself for another attack. Angel walked passed him and he realised where the shot had come from.

  Sarah’s arm trembled with the strain, her strength ready to fail at any moment. A black army boot kicked the zombie square in the ribs, sending it tumbling from her. The action was just enough for Sarah to stretch out and grab her lost firearm. She swung round in time to see the zombie steel itself for another attack. Before it could surge forward again, Sarah sent a round into its skull.

  Wading into the bridge, Angel fired precise shot after precise shot. With brutal efficiency she floored zombie after zombie. The last creature in the room lurched forward to sink its teeth into the human. Angel threw out her left arm as the creature’s jaw clamped down.

  The cadaver’s teeth met with the rigid casing of Angel’s plaster cast. Confused by the lack of flesh, the zombie looked up at Angel.

  Angel shoved the barrel of her pistol hard between the zombie’s eyes.

  “Bite me,” she said as she squeezed the trigger.

  “Angel!” Bates shouted as he pulled himself up from the deck. He rushed up to her and planted a wet kiss on her forehead before wrapping his arm around her and hugging her tight.

  Sarah too hauled herself to her feet. She looked around the body-strewn bridge. The florescent lights flickered with the salt-water spray blown in through the broken window.

  “Everyone okay?” she asked.

  A chorus of affirmative answers filled the bridge.

  Bates finished pounding Angel on the back. “What happened?”

  “Didn’t get to radio room,” Angel explained. “We got jumped. There were too many, too close.”

  Sarah looked down at the radio. “Bates.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure.” He picked up the receiver and resumed his radio call. “Research vessel Ishtar to the Pskov. Come in, please.”

  This time the radio came to life instantly. “This is the Pskov. What can we do for you?”

  Bates spoke into the microphone. “Stand down targeting. The ship has been overrun. Requesting assistance. Remaining crew abandoning ship.”

  There was a long pause.

  “And the virus?” the voice from the Pskov asked.

  “The virus remains the same,” Bates answered. “It has not—I repeat, not—gone airborne. The outbreak is by direct contact only.”

  There was another worrying silence. The survivors looked anxiously at each other.

  The radio sparked to life again. “Will contact Ascension command regarding your situation.”

  “What does that mean?” Sarah asked.

  Bates slammed the microphone into the console. “It means they’re too chickenshit to come and help us.”

  “It means they might still nuke us,” Angel added.

  “You mean they’re just going to fuck us over!” Nathan’s voice was hoarse and crackly.

  Sarah couldn’t tell if it was sweat or rain that drenched him, but Nathan had a definite tinge of green to his flesh.

  “No, no. That’s not what she means. We still stand a chance. It’s military protocol, that’s all.” Sarah looked over at Bates for confirmation. “You always have to check with your superiors, right?”

  Bates stood with his head hung low and a dejected look on his face. He caught Jennifer looking up at him. She was thin and wiry, her hair ruffled from the evening’s trials. But behind the muck and scruffiness, her doey brown eyes were bright and clear. Bates raised his head to look at Nathan and then Sarah in turn. They were all hoping for an answer.

  Finally he looked back down at Jennifer. “Yeah, that’s right. They have to check with high command.”

  Angel saw the optimism Bates was trying to foster. “There might be a vessel close to us that could be diverted to pick us up, or a rescue chopper from aircraft carrier.”

  Bates nodded his head to reassure everyone, including himself. “They’re not going to nuke us. They need to get intelligence reports and debriefings from us.”

  “And they’ll want Frankenstein Work,” Angel added.

  Sarah brought a smile to her lips. “Okay, what now?”

  “Pressure is rising,” Bates said. “This storm hasn’t much strength left in it. We head for the life rafts and wait for them to come rescue us.”

  “Which way to the life rafts?” Nathan coughed out.

  “This way,” Angel said as she made towards the opposite door.

  * * *

  Outside it was dark and windy. The rain had eased off, but the waves threw lashes of spray across the decks. A thick plume of smoke made its lazy way out of several broken windows. Behind the smoke could be seen the flickering light of orange flame.

  A zombie deck hand shambled its way over to the group, only to have its head obliterated by a shot from Angel.

  Ignoring the freshly decapitated corpse, Angel walked over to the railings.

  “You two are going to have to do the bulk of the work,” she said to Sarah and Nathan.

  Sarah nodded, looking at the woman’s plaster cast. “What do we do?”

  Nathan coughed violently. Bent double, he crashed to his knees, spitting out mucous and blood.

  Not noticing the crimson fluid by the dim emergency lighting, Angel patted Nathan on the back.

  “Smoke getting to you?” she asked.

  Nathan wiped a sleeve across his mouth. “Uh… oh, yeah.”

  “Everybody quiet!” Bates barked.

  Sarah and Angel stood up, guns in hand.

  The excited moan of a zombie called out from within the smoke. The wind changed, whipping spirals of smoke towards them and with it more sounds of the undead.

  “Stay close, Jennifer,” Sarah said, pulling the young girl close.

  “Where are you, you dead fuck?” Bates muttered, levelling his gun at the murk.

  Jennifer screamed as out of the smog a dark figure emerged. The zombie was scorched from head to toe, its flesh a crispy black shell. Its left jaw was partially missing, but it still had enough teeth to de
liver an infecting bite. Its jerky motion split the seared skin from its muscles as it lurched at Sarah.

  The blackened corpse lunged. The ship rolled, amplifying the force of the creature’s attack. Thrown against the guardrail and tilted back by the ships pitch, Sarah felt her body pivot rearward. Her hands were out in front of her, keeping the zombie at bay. She threw down a han,d trying to grasp the railing.

  “Sarah!” Jennifer cried.

  Sarah tried to seize hold of the railing, but her splinted fingers wouldn’t grip. Already falling backwards from the initial collision, the zombie fell into her, sending them both over the railing.

  Sarah fell open-mouthed, watching as the outreached hand of Jennifer hurtled away from her.

  The swelling ocean punched her in the back as she landed. The force and the cold shock thumped the breath out of her and Sarah sank into the freezing blackness.

  Feeling her strength drained by the cold waters, she let out a scream. A gulp of icy liquid rushed into her mouth, fuelling her panic.

  She kicked out and felt her head breach the surface. Retching out the seawater, she thrashed her arms against the encompassing waves, trying to suck in a full lungful of air.

  A scorched but cold hand slapped her in the face and grabbed hold. She screamed in horror to see the burnt zombie reaching out of the water to bite her. Its blistered and peeling hands grabbed onto her and pulled her back under the water.

  Sarah punched and kicked, trying to free herself from the cadaver’s grasp. As they sank deeper she managed to dislodge its grip only to have the creature latch on to the bottom of her combat vest. She looked up to see the burning ship fade to the water overhead. Paddling with her arms, she fought to maintain her buoyancy while kicking at the undead anchor that pulled her down. The creature’s hands were knocked free again and Sarah kicked out hard, propelling herself to the surface. She started to rise back up but then she felt a clawing at her ankle. Pulling itself up to get a bite, the zombie had its scorched mouth open, eager for its repast.