The Infected Dead (Book 2): Survive For Now

by Howard, Bob

  “We saw that happen with the houseboat before you moved in,” said Kathy. “Some gang of halfwits with more guns than brains moved in.”

  “What happened to them?” asked Tom.

  The Chief said, “The same thing that always happens to people like that. Darwin had them in mind when he talked about what species wouldn’t survive. They got themselves killed thinking it couldn’t happen to them because they had guns. Problem was, they didn’t have the brains or the numbers.”

  The Chief was making another pass over the mountain, and we looked down at the cabins. The gate being closed meant the infection had gotten inside before they had closed their gates. Hidden by a family member, it wasn’t discovered until it was too late. Judging by the large number of infected on the plateau, the mountain refuge had also far exceeded its capacity. By the time the infection started to spread, they were probably already out of supplies, and people were beginning to question the wisdom of hiding on a mountain.

  There were still people who figured they could survive if the others decided to leave, reasoning that winter would freeze the infected, and all they had to do was wait them out. What they didn’t remember to calculate in that little formula was the fact that people would keep dying, and even if they froze, and even if they killed the infected, there would be replacements. You wouldn’t run out of the infected until you ran out of people.

  The whole time we had been circling the mountain, Molly had been quietly listening and watching the scene below. She was such a calm child considering what she had seen since the day she and her father had escaped from the over populated area around Myrtle Beach.

  Molly sighed and said with a touch of impatience, “Are we ever going to see Mommy and Dr. Bus?”

  As difficult as it was to settle our predicament, Molly brought us back around to our mission. She couldn’t have made it more clear if she had simply told us to focus. That made the Chief think about fuel, and about how we had used up most of our reserves helping at Fort Jackson.

  “I think we should cross the lake to the resort and top off our fuel tanks before we ask Bus to pop his head out in the open,” said the Chief.

  I looked over at the fuel gauge and had no trouble agreeing with that suggestion. It was far to close to the red line for my tastes. I gave the Chief a thumbs up, not wanting to get everyone else overly concerned. Kathy and Tom saw what I did and nodded their consent.

  Tom explained to Molly that we needed to go get some gas first, and she gave him just a little lower lip, but she said, “We can do that first.”

  That put just a touch of cheer into the cabin of the plane, and the Chief changed course in the direction of the resort.

  In daylight it was easy to spot. We used the same way out of the lake that we used getting in, so we crossed the bridge going to the northwest. As soon as we were over the open water again we could see the unnatural green of the golf course. While everything else was in winter colors, the golf course looked like it belonged somewhere like Hawaii. The resort was on a peninsula that was shaped like Florida, and the western edge of it was occupied by an impressive marina. This one was probably packed with big boats until the day civilization came to a grinding halt. The boats would have made their escapes to the north and south, depending upon who was driving.

  Wherever the boats were going, some must have made it to safety, but if Tom's experiences on the river were anything like the experiences of the average person, then maybe one out of every hundred had a chance. What was left behind at the marina was just what the Chief had hoped we would see. There were three full rows of slips that were occupied by seaplanes. Most of them were yellow and had an insignia on the side that we could read better as we got closer, and they all said TVA, but there was a real variety of colors and models parked around them.

  I asked if anyone knew what TVA stood for and was surprised that everyone in our plane knew what it meant, including Molly.

  Tom said, "The Tennessee Valley Authority is the controlling agency for the power generated by all of this water. Big lakes and rivers like this can either be damned up for power generating plants, or they can help to cool reactors."

  "It looks like a lot of them didn't make it out before the infected showed up," said Kathy.

  "Their loss," said the Chief, "but it means aviation fuel for us, and I may grab some spare parts from the avionics maintenance shop. It's that big building that sticks out over the water just beyond the marina.”

  "Chief, isn't that the building in the picture that had fuel written on top of it?" I asked.

  "That's what I was thinking," said Kathy. "It's no small coincidence that Uncle Titus left Ed a seaplane, and there just happen to be seaplanes here."

  Tom said, "What really is an odd coincidence is the way I wound up with you guys, and my wife happens to be holed up in a shelter with someone who knew Uncle Titus. I call that a small world."

  The Chief gave us one of his really hearty laughs. He looked back at Tom and said, "First, we have Ed over here. He inherits a survivalist dream shelter complete with a seaplane just before the world ends. Second, the first people who find him and his shelter includes in its group a man who can fly a seaplane."

  "I can top that, Chief," I said. "I'm going to guess that Uncle Titus also won the lottery and used the money to finance the shelter."

  "This makes my head hurt," said Kathy.

  That was funny by itself, but Molly made it funnier by holding a bottle of aspirin out to Kathy.

  The Chief added, "Am I the only person here who has heard of six degrees of separation?"

  It turned out the Chief wasn't alone with that bit of trivia, but sometimes he felt duty bound to explain anyway, and this was apparently one of those times.

  "The theory behind six degrees of separation," he continued, "is not really associated with a number of degrees. It's the number of steps that supposedly can be taken by everyone in the world in order to connect people to each other. The theory says it would take no more than six steps for everyone to successfully relay a message to everyone else."

  "I prefer to think of our connections as some really great coincidences," said Kathy, "and I like the idea that we're just an incredibly lucky group of people. I don't wish bad luck on anyone else, but I want to take their share of the good luck."

  "Well, here's where we get to see just how much luckier we can be," said the Chief. "I don't see anything bad walking around down there, and we have to land for fuel sooner or later, so it might as well be now."

  We circled the resort from the west past the seaplanes and made a big turn over land. Nothing was moving at the resort hotel or the clubhouse on the golf course. The greens were exceptionally bright in the morning sunshine even though the weather was cool. We came back around heading south, using binoculars to try to spot trouble, but it was totally quiet.

  The Chief brought the Otter out of the last turn and made a steep dive for the water. He expertly pulled up on the front of the plane and neatly sat the pontoons in the water. I really had to admit, he was good at everything I had seen him do.

  The Otter was just barely coasting as we pulled up next to the rows of planes parked in their own slips. We were only four slips away from the main dock, flanked on the left and right by yellow TVA planes. It was natural camouflage unless someone saw where we landed.

  Kathy said, "I would almost prefer seeing some infected dead, Chief. This is too easy."

  "I was just thinking the same thing," I said. "I would be satisfied to at least see some bodies. I think that this should tell us something."

  Tom said, "It's like someone is still cleaning up around here. Someone picked up the bodies, and someone found a way to keep more infected from getting into the resort."

  "Did anyone see a wall or really big fence around this place?" asked Kathy.

  We all looked around and shook our heads, but Tom looked like he was thinking it over, maybe remembering something from when he lived in the area.

  "That
would be further north than where we went when we made our last pass,” he said. “Besides, we were all looking back toward the resort area. This is a gated community, and the gate is literally a gate. There's no little guard shack with a crossbar across the entrance. If someone got it closed in time and then eliminated everything inside, they could have gotten control of this place.”

  Kathy was shaking her head. "Tom, you don’t know how many places we have seen that were overrun even though they had gates. That has to be one strong gate to have kept out the infected. Not to mention staying supplied for this long.”

  "That's what's bothering me," said the Chief. "Whoever kept them out will be just as good at keeping us out." He killed the engine, and we all just sat for several minutes watching for the inevitable. It couldn't be this easy.

  “All right folks, let's do this. The fuel pumps are up on the dock, and this place looks expensive enough to have catered to the whims of the filthy rich, and that would include not having to pull right up to the pump. Let's take care of business and get out of here."

  We piled out of the plane onto the dock with our weapons drawn. We didn't know what we would find, but we would be ready for it. Tom told Molly to stay in the plane and to keep low. He latched the door shut and motioned for her to lock it from the inside.

  With the Chief in the lead we went single file through the rows of seaplanes and up to the main dock. The Chief inspected the pumps while we formed a protective circle around him.

  "We're in luck,” he said. "There's a hand pump that you can use to prime the hose. The rest is just up to physics. There's also more than enough hose to reach the plane."

  The Chief did all the work getting the hose into the wing of the plane, then he primed the lines and started filling up the tanks. It was a good feeling to know that there was going to be enough fuel to make it back home after we delivered Tom and Molly to Allison.

  The hand came out of nowhere to grab the left ankle of the Chief as he stood on the right pontoon of the plane. As big as he was, when he started trying to shake the hand from his leg, the entire plane started rocking, and Molly started screaming. From where I was standing by the pump, all I could see was an arm. Whatever it was attached to, it was still under the water.

  Kathy was the fastest to react, jumping from the dock and onto the pontoon of the yellow plane behind the Chief and pulling a machete from her belt. With one hard swing she removed the arm at the elbow. This was something we had seen before, but we didn't want to see it again. Severed arms of the infected tended to hang on afterward.

  The Chief gripped the severed arm halfway between the elbow and the wrist and gave a hard pull. It resisted and held onto his leg for the first few pulls, but it finally came off. If we learned anything about the infected dead, it was that their grip was very strong. The Chief threw the arm in the water, and there was an immediate reaction. The water around where the arm landed began to churn with activity.

  Both seaplanes where the Chief and Kathy were standing on the pontoons started rocking like they were on rough seas. They hung onto the wing struts as the water thrashed around them. As it started to die down, they leaped from the pontoons to the dock.

  “What was that?” asked Kathy. She looked shocked, and I had never her look that scared.

  The Chief didn’t answer, and I saw that he was even a little unnerved. Tom ran down to make sure Molly was okay inside the plane, but Kathy stopped him from stepping out onto the pontoon and pointed down at the water. From where I was, I couldn’t see what it was Kathy pointed at, but Tom visibly recoiled and backed away from the edge of the dock.

  I looked around to be sure we were still alone. Satisfied that I wasn’t going to let something sneak up on us if I left my post, I joined the others on the dock. I eased up to see what they were looking at, and I finally understood.

  This wasn’t salt water. This was lake water with no blue crabs. There had to be something in rivers and lakes that would eat dead flesh, but dead flesh would last a lot longer in the cold, fresh water of a mountain lake. The water was only about eight feet deep around the seaplane slips, and just inches below the surface of the water all around the docks and the pontoons were hundreds of hands reaching for the surface. The infected had fallen in and couldn’t get back out, but they weren’t decaying, either.

  Kathy said, “Oh, my God, can you imagine what would happen to someone who came up to this dock in a small boat? Those things would tip them over just by pushing on the bottom of the boat.”

  “It probably has happened out here already,” I said. “Are you two okay?”

  “Surprised more than anything,” said the Chief.

  “Thanks for the hand,” Kathy.

  There it was again……dead people in the water bumping into each other trying to grab the next unsuspecting soul to come along and drag him or her down into what had to be a special type of hell, and what does the Chief manage to do? He delivers the world’s worst pun or play on words, whatever you want to call it.

  “Thanks for the hand?” she asked. “You are one seriously disturbed person, Chief.”

  Tom was standing there looking down at his feet. He looked so serious that he had me worried for a moment, but when he lifted his head I could see he was trying not to laugh. Of course that was exactly what the Chief had in mind.

  Tom said, “Chief, what was the last thing Ed said to you before you pumped the fuel?” He gave it just a couple of heartbeats before he answered his own question. “He asked you if you needed any help, and you answered…….”

  The Chief got that big patented smile on his face and said, “I’ll let you know if I need a hand.”

  Kids love to see grown ups laughing, and Molly was absolutely ecstatic watching us on the dock. She couldn’t hear what we were saying or laughing about, but she knew it had to be funny.

  Kathy caught her breath when she finished her laughing fit, and doubled over at the waist she said to the Chief, “Normally, this would be where I would push you in the water, but I’ll give you a break this time.”

  She meant it as a joke, but all kidding aside, we were seriously unnerved by the sight below us. In clear water, looking down on the infected was a frightening sight. If they could find a way to walk up onto land, they would be unstoppable. I crossed over to the other side of the dock and looked down between two different seaplanes. It was the same thing there. Hundreds of dead eyes were looking upward, and when they saw me they started reaching. Some of the hands broke the surface, and I know just how lucky we were that we chose a slip at the marina that was in deeper water.

  “Hey, guys,” I said. “I think we have to check the water depth no matter where we go around here because these things can walk on the bottom. They just can’t find a place to walk out of the water over here.”

  “Is there a boat ramp at this marina?” asked Kathy. “There has to be one around here somewhere.”

  We all started looking for it, but it wasn’t down by the planes. It had to be there somewhere or the members of the resort who rented the slips would have to go to a public boat landing. That wasn’t something people wanted to do when they paid for privileges.

  “The avionics maintenance building is like a hangar,” said the Chief.

  He pointed toward the big building. “See how it extends out over the water so the planes can drive right up inside under power?”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” said Tom, “but people who pay to be members of places like this don’t put their own boats in the water. The other side of the building probably has a big bay door on it, and the staff of the marina goes through the maintenance building with the boats.”

  Kathy said, “They probably clean the boats for the members, tune them up, and even stock them with refreshments all inside that building.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can find in there that’s useful,” I said. “If they restocked boats for rich people, we might find a few luxury items we can use.”


  “Are you forgetting something?” asked Kathy. “If the boat landing is inside that building, that’s why the infected haven’t been able to walk out of the water. I’m not so sure I want to open that door.”

  The Chief was running his fingers through his full beard and looking at the maintenance building thoughtfully. “We could really use a few spare parts, Kathy. Uncle Titus didn’t stock any at the shelter, probably because the plane was more of a decoy than anything. He didn’t expect to fly it away from Mud Island as often as we have.”

  “He didn’t expect it to be flown away from Mud Island at all,” I said.

  “If we need spare parts, this may be our only chance to get them, so I say we should at least check out the situation in the building,” said Tom. “After all, if the infected are walking up a boat ramp into the building, wouldn’t it be more likely that they were able to find their way out of the building by now?”

  “I’m with Tom,” I said. “Plus, those things don’t think about things like that. There isn’t one of those infected walking around down on the bottom of the lake thinking there’s got to be a boat ramp around here somewhere.”

  Kathy looked at me like she was going to push me into the water, but she softened her expression and said, “I’m thinking there should have been plenty of them that have found the boat ramp by accident by now, Ed.”

  “How about we just go listen at the door for a minute or two?” said the Chief. “We don’t have to go inside if it sounds populated.”

  No one could really argue with taking a quick look at the building. We could see from where we stood on the dock that there were windows. We could listen at the door and take a peek through the windows.

  Tom tapped on the front of our plane to get Molly’s attention and let her know we would be right back, and she needed to stay inside the plane no matter what. We formed up the way we had become accustomed to doing when we were covering each other and moved out. Our machetes were all through our belts because we could see a longer distance than in most places.

  The dock was along the western shore of the peninsula, and for the most part it was all flat. The golf course dominated the view to the east with trees separating the greens where the fairways doubled back on each other. It was a beautiful day, and we were walking out onto the grass of an exclusive golf resort. Everything looked unnaturally normal, and it was bothering the hell out of all of us. It looked so normal that we half expected to see people teeing up to start playing a few holes before having brunch at the clubhouse. The only thing that looked as it should be was that the grass had grown, and the neat trimming done along the golf cart paths wasn’t as nice as it had been in its better days.