Convergence: The Zombie War Chronicles - Vol. 2

by Damon Novak

  I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest. “You two were still datin’? Now I feel like a dumbass.”

  “CB, it was only because Danny thought you might be pissed he was dating your sister. I told him I didn’t care, but it was his idea, so I respected it. If it went on, I’m sure he’d have told you eventually.”

  “When? At the wedding? Maybe the baby shower?”

  “You wouldn’t have been invited to the baby shower, silly. Are we going or what?” asked Lilly. “I’ll text him now, if it makes you feel any better.”

  I nodded down toward her phone. “Hell yeah, I want you to text him. We’re in his home town.”

  Down her head went, thumbs flashin’ across the keys. She looked up. “Okay. Done.”

  “What’d you say?” I asked.

  She looked at her phone. “Me and CB are down at the marina. Are you okay?”

  I stood. “You brought some clothes, right? Jeans?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Put ‘em on. This isn’t a time for exposed skin. And I hope you brought somethin’ besides those skimpy canvas shoes.”

  “I got jeans and my swamp boots.”

  “Okay, get changed and let’s go. Be sure to bring your phone with you in case Danny texts back.”

  “Always.”

  “Okay, I’ll motor in,” I said. “Hope there’s somewhere to dock this beast.”

  Ω

  While Lilly got changed, we pulled anchor and I guided the Sea Ray through the channel leading into Marco Bay. I knew Danny’s dad’s boat was docked at Rose Marina, so that’s where I was headed first. They had fuel there, too.

  Georgina went down, Nokosi right on her heels, and came back with the two-ways from the ammo bag. She gave one to Lilly. “I checked the batteries,” she said. “Both good.”

  “Thanks,” said Lilly, now lookin’ a bit more protected in the jeans and boots. She still wore a pullover tee, but it was still hoverin’ around 80 degrees, so I got it.

  Because of the bigger boats all the rich folks in Marco Island owned, they’d dredged all the canals and waterways leadin’ into the marina to a minimum depth of nine feet. Some spots were even deeper, and in the summer, you’d see mature tarpon swimmin’ right near the docks.

  I wanted to pull it right up to the fuel pumps, but there was another boat docked there. I didn’t spot anyone on it at first glance, and there weren’t any lights on through the windows.

  “Can’t get to the fuel dock right now,” I said, searchin’ for another available section of dock.

  “Right there!” said Lilly, pointing.

  “Perfect. We’ll move that other boat if nobody’s around. Lil, go on down with someone else and get those bumpers over the side, and get the dock lines ready. Try to tie us tight to the dock.”

  “Not before we check it for those things,” she said.

  I nodded my head. “Right. Be damned careful.” I grabbed the binoculars from the helm and held ‘em up. “Nobody right there, but the motor might draw ‘em.”

  “Can you cut it and coast in?” she asked.

  “This ain’t an airboat, Lil,” I said. “Coast this thing, and I’ll take out the whole dock.”

  “Let’s hurry, then,” she said, runnin’ down the steps. “Georgie, follow me!”

  Georgina ran after her. I saw ‘em down on the starboard rail a couple seconds after. Lilly helped Georgina tie the big bumpers to the railside boat cleats and drop ‘em over the side.

  I scanned the helm controls and saw a small light switch-sized panel that said, THRUSTERS. It had two joysticks, one marked BOW and the other marked STERN. Arrows to either side were red and green. I needed green.

  I keyed the radio. “Lil, let me know when you’re ready. Is it still clear?”

  A second later, she came back. “Still clear so far. Can you get us up to the dock?”

  We were still a good fifteen feet away, but parallel to it. “Gonna try,” I said. “Hold on. I don’t know how strong these thrusters are.”

  I leaned out and saw both women hangin’ onto the rail, their eyes on the dock. Georgie was down at the stern, and Lil was up near the bow.

  I hit the toggle switch to the ON position and pushed both joysticks over toward the green arrows.

  A low hum sounded, and next thing I knew, the Sea Ray was rumblin’ to the right, easin’ closer to the dock. It was so smooth, I was amazed. I’d seen people use thrusters, but damn … it made dockin’ this big beauty a breeze.

  “Back off, CB!” said Lilly through the radio. I let off the joysticks and the boat floated gently to the dock.

  Seein’ Lilly ready to open the side hatch and jump to the dock, I pushed the button on the radio and said, “Hold on, Lil! One last check.”

  She didn’t answer, but I saw her pause and scan the dock, like I was doin’. I still didn’t see anything or anyone.

  “Okay, go!”

  “CB!” she said.

  “What, Lil? Go, before we drift off!”

  “I just got a text from Danny!”

  I can’t tell you the feelin’ that came over me right then. Just knowin’ my buddy was alive somewhere. As I watched my sister stuff the phone back into her pocket, I realized we’d already drifted too far for her to jump to the dock.

  I keyed the radio. “That’s great news. Hold on a sec, and I’ll move you in tighter.” I bumped the joysticks, and the boat jarred starboard, again comin’ up against the dock.

  Lilly threw the bowline out and swung open the rail door. She took a small hop down to the dock and ran to grab the line, which she expertly wrapped in a figure-eight pattern around the cleat.

  “Toss that line!” she shouted to Georgina, and she did. Lilly caught it and tied it to the aft cleat. When she was done, she gave me a thumbs-up.

  By the time I shut off the engine and came down, Georgina had her 9mm out as she scanned the dock behind my sister. I knew she didn’t see me comin’, so I tried to walk louder and put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, we’re good. Y’all go inside so you don’t draw anything to the boat. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “Be careful, Cole,” she said. “Watch out for one another, and for God’s sake, come back safe.”

  “If I’m lucky, I’ll have another friend with me. Lilly got an answer from Danny.”

  Her eyes brightened. “That’s wonderful!”

  I shrugged. “Good to know he’s alive, but where is he? He texted, so he could be in Georgia for all we know.”

  She squeezed my arm. “He’s alive, Cole.” She turned back toward the cabin. When she was halfway there, she turned and called back, “Hold on one minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I watched her walk away, confused. One minute passed. Then two. I started in when she came back out, the DP-12 in her hands. “Sorry, I had to figure out how to load the shells. I saw Richard do it once, so I got it. You’ve got 14 shots. I guess it’s supposed to take 16, but I couldn’t get any more in. Don’t waste them.”

  “You gotta chamber a couple to get full capacity,” I said. “I’m hopin’ I don’t even need one round, but yeah. This is the puppy I’ll feel best with. Thanks.”

  “Have to take care of my … what do the rappers call them? My crew.”

  “I’m gonna take your word for it,” I said. “Now get inside and y’all stay there. You get eaten you’ll have me to answer to.”

  “Keep your radio on or I’ll sic Nokosi on you.”

  I was thinkin’ that dog might just follow her orders.

  Ω

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Going elephant hunting?” asked Lilly, as I jumped down onto the dock.

  “If I see a zombie elephant, sure. I know you saw Georgie give it to me. Helluva gun, but I have this, too.” I pulled the .45 from the back of my pants. “For smaller game.”

  Lilly looked around. “Still pretty cloudy here,” said Lilly. “Wish it was dark. I feel exposed out here.”

  “It’s a natural feelin’,” I said. “‘Cause we�
��re all alone. Eerie as shit. It’ll be dark in an hour or so.”

  “I’d rather stay alone.”

  “If the only company’s zombies, yeah. You text Danny back?”

  “Let’s get somewhere first. What exactly are we looking for?”

  “Job one is to make sure we don’t get surprised. While we’re doin’ that, we need to move that boat over there off the fuel dock, so we can pull in. It’ll be easier now that I figured out how to use those thrusters. Then we gotta hope there’s power, and if there isn’t, we need to figure out their generator.”

  “First things first, then.” Lilly pulled out a gun I recognized from Georgina’s safe. It was a custom-engraved Sig Sauer P226; a 9mm semi-automatic. It had gold accents in the form of a skull on top of the slide, and pointin’ skeleton hands on the sides.

  “Georgina said I could have it. Her ex bought it for her, and she hates him.” She looked at me and winked. “Hey, maybe she’ll hate you like that someday.”

  “If she does, don’t think she’ll be givin’ you free shit then,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We walked over to the fuel dock. When we got there, Lilly tucked the gun away and pulled out the filler nozzle. She flipped up the lever on the pump. “Nothing. The pump’s got power, though. See the LED readout?”

  “Okay, one less thing we have to worry about. The boat.”

  We walked over to it. It was about a 30-footer, and the name on it said it was an Albin. I’d never heard of that boatmaker before, but she was pretty.

  Lilly stopped suddenly, pullin’ out her Sig. “You hear that?”

  “No. Water slappin’ the side of the boat? Tide’s comin’ in.”

  “Maybe,” she said, givin’ the area a good once-over before tuckin’ her gun away again.

  “You take the bow, I got the stern line. We’ll untie it and just push it out into the canal.”

  “Owner’s going to be steamed,” said Lil.

  “They’ll probably eat him raw,” I said, as I walked over and knelt down, puttin’ the DP-12 down on the dock. Whoever’d tied the boat up had no idea what they were doin’. It was wrapped around like thirty times and tied off right to the end of the rope.

  “How you makin’ out with yours? Some idiot must’ve –” Right then I looked up to see a half-dressed man staggerin’ across the bow of the boat toward the rail, right where Lilly knelt, untyin’ her line.

  “Lilly, look out!” I yelled.

  Right then he hit the rail and flipped over.

  Lilly had time to put up her hands and fall backward, onto her ass. Both her feet went into the air as she tried to stop her backward momentum, and the rotten bastard dropped right down on her legs.

  I watched, feelin’ the blood drain from my face as her gun slid across the dock, landin’ right near the edge of the planks. Grabbin’ the DP-12, I ran toward them, Lilly now tryin’ to scramble backward in a spider crawl while the infected man’s jaws stretched wide to take a bite out of her leg.

  Halfway to her, I knew there was no usin’ the shotgun. I dropped it to the dock and took two more leaping steps to reach the pair, just as the sick bastard clamped his teeth on her left leg and jerked his head back and forth.

  Screamin’, Lilly drew her right leg back and planted her boot on the top of his head. His mouth came away from her leg and I charged toward her and grabbed her arms, draggin’ her ten feet back like she weighed only ounces.

  Just then, as I pulled her to her feet, another figure appeared on the boat beside us; it was a ragged woman, the front of her peasant blouse stained with dark brown gore.

  I grabbed my gun from the back of my pants and spun around, pullin’ the trigger twice in quick succession.

  She flew backward into the gel coat cabin of the boat, black goo runnin’ down behind her. Then she staggered forward again and fell to the deck, rollin’ off into the water.

  The second she hit the water, it was like a baitfish boil; the water started churnin’ like goddamned sea monsters were under there, ready to bust through the dock and send us into the water, just like in a B horror flick.

  The man-freak had gotten his bearings again and made it back onto his feet, stumblin’ toward us. He paid no mind to the churnin’ water beside him, but I did. As I jerked the barrel of my .45 up to put a couple in his face, somethin’ began to churn the water beside him, just under the bow of the boat we’d been tryin’ to move.

  I instinctively threw my arm around Lilly and dragged her backward again, her petite frame no match for my size. Behind us was maybe twenty more feet of dock, but nothin’ but water beyond.

  The crazy wasn’t distracted by the disturbance, but right then, the roilin’ water became an eruption as somethin’ broke the surface, shot high out of the water, its toothy mouth open as it hissed.

  “Jesus!” I shouted. It was a massive saltwater croc – the first I’d ever seen – and its jaws snapped closed on that rotter’s head and shoulders before droppin’ back down to the surface of the dock, causin’ the old timber to shake under our feet.

  Already halfway out, it slammed its massive jaws down on the screechin’ zombie again and again, before clawin’ the rest of the way out of the marina water.

  “CB, fire!” cried Lilly.

  Just as the words left her lips, the crocodile, now fully on the dock, whipped its head sideways and released the freak, throwin’ his body against the hull of the boat beside us. The deadhead hit with a loud thud and splashed into the water below, a black-red streak runnin’ down the side of the gel coat. The croc’s head turned toward us, and it raised up on its stubby claws and started forward.

  I glanced between the dropped DP-12 on the dock, and the croc, gaugin’ the distance. It would be a butt puckerer, but I didn’t have a choice. My .45 wouldn’t do shit against the beast headed our way.

  Screw it. I ran to the shotgun, snatched it up, and hauled my ass back to where Lilly sat stunned on the dock. I’d never even fired a DP-12 before. I knew what a 12-gauge could do, but not against a gator, much less a croc.

  “CB,” Lilly whispered now, and I saw her eyein’ her gun, still there on the edge of the dock.

  “I got it,” I whispered. I lowered the barrel and cocked the shotgun. I felt resistance as two shells slid into the chamber.

  I pulled the triggers and fired. BOOM!

  The monster croc’s snout exploded in raining chunks of meat, but even with its jaws destroyed, it let out a screechin’ hiss and I swear I could smell its foul breath.

  “Again!” shouted Lilly, as it advanced.

  I fired again and ejected the spent shells, loadin’ two more in as the empties clattered away.

  I didn’t need the other two. The croc’s body seemed to deflate into the dock, now layin’ still. The black oozed down its head, drainin’ between the dock slats down into the water below.

  The water was still bubblin’ and churnin’ to the left of us, and I said, “Come on!”

  We ran to the T in the dock and I handed the shotgun to Lilly. “Keep it pointed at the water! I gotta push this boat out!”

  She took it and held it, double barrels aimed down at the water. I grabbed the dockline and unwound it from the cleat that Lilly’d been strugglin’ with.

  Once it was free, I double-wrapped it around my fist and trudged back toward the end of the dock, pullin’ that boat slowly behind me. As somethin’ broke the surface of the water again, I heard the DP-12’s throaty report.

  BOOM!

  Whatever it was sank back into the depths, and I said a silent prayer as the boat gained momentum and slid out into the canal beyond.

  When I was sure it had enough steam to keep goin’, I let go of the dockline and ran back toward Lilly, takin’ the big shotgun from her. She ran back and retrieved her Sig from the dock, and we charged back to the Sea Ray.

  I heard Nokosi barkin’ up a storm as we reached the boat. Everyone had apparently heard the shots. Don’t know how they couldn’t have. Georgie leaned over the rail, he
r hand out. Lilly took it and jumped back aboard, me right on her tail. I leapt up in one motion and dropped the shotgun onto one of the bench seats.

  “Stille!” commanded Georgina, and Nokosi immediately stopped barkin’. “Are you okay?” she asked us, her voice tinged with fear.

  “Now we are,” I said, as Lilly went into the main cabin and I ran up the stairs to the flybridge. Georgie stayed right behind me, paced by the dog.

  “Goddamned saltwater crocs! Came right outta the water after us!”

  “We have those here?” she asked, her breathin’ shallow and fast.

  “Yeah, but you never see ‘em. I guess the infection has ‘em out searchin’ for food where they don’t usually go.”

  I dropped into the captain’s chair and tuned the key, glad I didn’t have to touch the starter wires together anymore. The boat motor turned, and the RPM meter pegged, then settled at idle speed. I pulled it backward, engagin’ reverse with a typical, mild grindin’ sound.

  Lilly came in then, and dropped down onto the curved couch on the port side of the bridge. I pulled the throttle back all the way and the motor ground, but we didn’t go anywhere. The boat just drifted side to side.

  Confused for a second, I tried to calm myself, checkin’ my senses as I ran a mental checklist. “Damnit!” I shouted. “The fuckin’ dock lines!”

  “I’ll get them,” said Lilly, who was squeezin’ her leg through her jeans where the thing had clamped down on her with its teeth.

  I stared at her, worried. “No! I got it. Georgie, check her leg, would you? One of those rotten bastards bit her.”

  As though she understood, Nokosi’s ears went on alert.

  Georgina looked panicked, too. “A crocodile?” she said, her eyes wide.

  “No, no, sorry. One of the zombie fuckers. Look her over. I’ll be right back in.”

  She knelt down as I ran down the steps and hit the deck. I scanned the dock and didn’t see anything. I was tempted to grab a knife and just cut the lines, but we’d need ‘em again to tie up at the fuel dock.