by Mark Tufo
“Now I suppose you are going to tell me your dad had one of these things, too?” Harry asked Frank.
“Naw, I glanced over the owner’s manual,” Frank replied, not looking away from some sort of display screen in front of him. He briefly gestured toward what appeared to be a four-inch-thick full-sized binder sitting on top of a closed mobile laptop attached to the center console.
“Seriously, you know how to operate this thing by glancing at a copy of what looks to be a book out of an encyclopedia set?” Harry said while picking up the heavy, thick volume that Frank claimed was an owner’s manual.
“It’s all just basic operational stuff, but man, is it cool! State of the art GPS, satellite uplinks probably for faster NCRC and Interpol connections. This radio system is more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen,” Frank said excitedly, looking and acting more like the eighteen-year-old kid Harry had thought he was when they’d first met in the armory. That only being about three hours prior. Harry felt the weight of responsibility hit him full force once again. He had to do this right. He had to help this kid, his close friend in the back, and anyone else he could to survive. There were no other options for Harry to consider; no other course available.
Taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts and get his head back in the game, Harry said jokingly to Frank, “Okay then Number One, activate the cloaking device and arm forward phasers. Prepare to engage.”
Frank quickly looked over to Harry with a huge grin on his face and said, “Actually, I was just thinking how awesome it would be if this thing was a Transformer! Not just any ordinary Transformer, but a Prime! It would transform into Bear Prime with twenty-four-inch talons on one hand and a mini gun on the other! With rockets that would fire from his shoulder! Bear Prime could seriously kick some zombie ass!”
Harry knew exactly what Frank was referring to. He had really enjoyed the three Transformer movies and knew that a Prime was a leader, the most powerful and advanced Transformer from Cybertron. Harry actually laughed and said to Frank, “That would be totally awesome!”
Derrick had been leaning between the rear compartment and front during Frank and Harry’s exchange and finally said, “Okay kiddies, not to interrupt your interplanetary strategy session or anything, but if you’re ready to rejoin adulthood we’re buttoned up back here and ready to roll.”
Frank and Harry exchanged glances like two kids caught doing something they shouldn’t. Harry fired back to Derrick in a whiney voice, while pointing at Frank, “Yeah, but HE brought all that stuff up! I was just trying to do my homework, Dad!” Both Harry and Frank burst out laughing at the dumbstruck expression on Derrick’s face.
“Geez, children; one just out of diapers and one getting ready to wear them.” That was the best Derrick could get out before he joined the other two men in laughter.
Turning serious, Harry said, “Let’s give it ten to fifteen minutes for the siren to draw as many as possible. They know somebody’s in the building now, and it sounded like they broke through at least one set of doors downstairs. Hopefully a bunch of them will pile in looking for us, clearing more from the street out front.”
Frank had also reverted back into the professionally trained police officer that he was and said, “I know they saw me, and from what you relayed from GNN and the other reports they should continue to look for a while before losing interest. That truck should keep the door secured if they get this far down.”
Derrick nodded in agreement and asked, “Maybe we should try that super keen radio while we wait?”
“Do you think we could get anything down here? I know we used to have to be on street level before our cars could transmit,” Harry asked Frank.
Looking up from the manual he had opened as soon as Derrick had suggested the radio, Frank said, “This vehicle has a microwave transmitter array built into the roof which is necessary to utilize the type of satellite connections it can use. Most of our radio systems we use standardly operate on an 800-megahertz bandwidth which has a much weaker power range compared to microwave transmission. That’s why those radios lose signal when blocked by heavy or thick obstructions. The radio equipment in the Bearcat is almost military grade so I don’t think the building would be a problem. I don’t understand it all completely, not yet at least, but I’m confident it has transmitting and receiving capabilities far more powerful than our main central dispatch, let alone the station equipment or our cars.”
“Okay, so I think he just said it’s a pretty good radio. So unless I need a lead cup to protect the jewels from those microwaves, I say we fire that sucker up. Let’s see if we can talk to Finland or maybe the International Space Station,” Derrick said with a chuckle.
Harry was too engrossed with what Frank had said for Derrick’s comment to register and said, “Hope it’s been programmed with at least the local channels but let’s find out.” Frank flipped three different switches on the dash and instantly, in what seemed like quadraphonic surround sound, they heard radio traffic!
There were units calling in from various locations reporting their situations, and a calm female voice responding back to each call. The radio traffic sounded almost normal but everyone in the BCRC knew it was anything but. The thing that hit Harry hard was the actual lack of traffic. There should have been more units transmitting than he was hearing.
Harry pulled the hand mic from the dash clip and said, “Three Edward Six, Central Station.” The response was immediate from the calm female voice.
“All units, 10-3, all units 10-3 unless emergency traffic.” The calm female voice had just directed all units on air to stop transmitting. “Three Edward Six, please advise current status. One Adam is standing by.”
“You’re in deep shit now, Harry. The chief wants to talk to you!” Derrick retorted with a snicker.
21
One Adam was the Chief of Police’s radio call sign. Harry was almost too excited to reply, but finally said, “Edward Six, with two other officers and secure at Central Station. We will be mobile in about fifteen in the Bearcat.”
“Edward Six, Adam One, 10-6 to channel …” Harry heard the voice of Chief Greg Ekers, someone he had known during his entire twenty-five-year career, directing him to change radio channels. Glancing over to Frank, Harry nodded once and Frank immediately started programming in the new channel on the Bearcat’s radio system.
Greg Ekers was a thirty-year career cop who had worked his way up the ladder in the department and was highly respected by the rank and file. He was a no-nonsense police officer and a very effective commander and administrator. Ekers spent as much time in the field with the officers as he did sitting behind a desk. He was able to work and interact very well with the many diverse groups of people who lived and worked in San Francisco. The most surprising attribute Ekers had mastered was the ability to work well with city government which, in and of itself, amazed most people who knew him.
When Frank acknowledged that the new channel was programmed, Harry said into the mic, “Greg, can you hear me?”
“I hear you Harry, and you don’t know how happy I am you’re alright! Please bring me up to date,” Chief Ekers said in a calm, professional tone.
Harry took a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts, then responded, “Well Chief, looks like we have a bit of a situation in the City. Seems as if some folks want to eat other folks and they are being damn persistent about it. I’m with Officers Derrick Washington and Frank Lewis. We’ve been able to secure the armory at Central and transferred what was left into the Bear. We have created a distraction and are now waiting for Vallejo to clear, then we’re headed out. What are your orders, Greg? How can we help?” Harry was praying to be relieved of this responsibility and was eager to have the command staff give him direction. Any direction.
The chief, chuckling through the radio speaker, said, “Yeah, citizens don’t seem to be showing much respect for each other right now, that’s for sure.” Harry heard him take a deep breath, then continue, “I know
Washington, he’s a damn fine officer and I would stand with him any time. Did you know that Officer Lewis there is a near genius, Harry? His IQ is higher than us two old beat cops combined.”
Harry glanced at Frank, who was thumbing through the BCRC owner’s manual and who was now beet red. “That certainly answers a couple of questions, now doesn’t it?”
“I knew this rook was smart!” Derrick added, patting Frank on the head, attempting to cover his own embarrassment at the lofty accolade the chief had just paid him.
“What are your plans then, Harry?” Chief Ekers asked
With that question posed, Harry spent several minutes outlining what he had observed since April 1st from his building, including the information he had been able to gather from GNN. He laid out his initial plan to secure the marina and head into the Bay. “But that was all just ‘shooting from the hip’ ideas,” Harry concluded, releasing the transmit button.
There were several moments of silence, to the point that Harry said into the mic, “Greg, did you copy?”
“I copied Harry, stand by one,” Ekers replied.
After several moments with Harry beginning to wonder if they had lost radio contact, the chief was back on the radio. “Harry, continue with your plan. We are currently barricaded at the Hall and secure for now.”
Harry knew that the Hall of Justice at 850 Bryant was a safe location and could easily be secured, although it was on the other side of the city from Central Station. Regardless, he was not going to just leave his friend and whoever else was there stranded.
“Wait a minute Greg, we can help you! Those things are everywhere,” Harry said with growing concern plainly evident in his voice.
“I know they’re everywhere, Harry,” Ekers calmly replied. “There are hundreds of those things congregated right outside our windows. I’m looking at a mass of bodies so thick I can’t see the street or sidewalk surfaces in either direction. There is nothing you can do for us for the time being. Now listen carefully; we’ve been in direct contact with the Coast Guard and I’d like you to meet face-to-face with them if at all possible to act as the Department’s liaison. The USCG Cutter Tern, and her Captain William Overton, has operational command right now of the military assets in the Bay. There is also a contingent of National Guard on Treasure Island, also under Overton’s command, that set up a refugee center for those who were able to make it there. Unfortunately as the survivors were streaming onto the island from both the Oakland and San Francisco sides, they had more of those zombie things chasing them than the Guard had bullets. The decision was made to blow both Bay Bridge entrances to Treasure Island, effectively sealing it off. Can’t say as I disagree with that decision entirely, but that cut any chances of survivors reaching TI from the bridge. Overton did mention, however, that almost a thousand people got onto the island before they sealed it off,” Chief Ekers finally concluded, weariness evident in his voice.
Frank stared out of the windshield as Derrick leaned against the center console, both in silent consideration of what they had heard. Harry was also trying to digest everything Ekers had said. At least he now knew what the explosions had been that he’d heard that night on the apartment building roof. But what his thoughts centered on were the hundreds of people that had been cut off from Treasure Island. He had seen too many times what happened to those pursued by the infected, and it was apparent what had probably happened to those survivors.
“There’s something else you need to know, and this is going to directly affect your immediate plans.” Ekers picked up when he received no reply from Harry. “Captain Overton told us that there are at least a couple dozen boats in the Marina Harbor with survivors aboard each one. That’s great news, of course, but unfortunately there also seems to be a couple hundred infected along the marina docks. The fencing that had been erected is keeping those things from getting at the boats and people, but you only have one way to get in. You worked security at a couple of the initial events at the Golden Gate Yacht Club, so you know what I am talking about.”
As with many areas in San Francisco, the term ‘marina’ was a fairly generic reference, but Harry knew the area to which Ekers was referring: the oldest recreational marina operating in San Francisco and perhaps the greater Bay Area. Vessels had been berthed in the harbor’s original basin, now known as the West Harbor, since before the 1906 earthquake. The original marina was expanded in the mid-1960’s and was now approximately thirty-five acres in size. The entire facility had almost seven hundred berths, ten end ties for guest berthing vessels up to a hundred feet in length, free pump out stations and a commercial fuel dock. The West Harbor marina area included the St. Francis and the Golden Gate Yacht Clubs, the Harbormaster’s Building, and the park area known as Marina Green. The large harbor was in the shape of a near perfect ‘U’ but squared off at the bottom. The squared-off west side of the harbor was closest to Yacht Road, which was accessed off Marina Boulevard, and led to the north side of the ‘U’. This was the bayside of the harbor which also served as the breakwater wall for the boat slips and where the yacht clubs were located.
Harry also knew that the heavy fencing had been installed as a security measure around the docks for the America’s Cup that had been scheduled to be raced in the Bay later that year – a race that would probably never be run again, at least in his lifetime. At ten feet high, the security fence spanned from the west end of the Marina Green, running the full length of the harbor’s south side. There was also a similar section along the western section of the ‘U’ that ran across Yacht Road to the edge of the causeway and the Bay water. In the middle of this section, a large double gate had been installed to allow controlled access to the moored boats and the two club houses.
“Oh shit, there goes the neighborhood,” Derrick said uneasily.
Frank added with slight panic in his voice, “What’re we going to do now?”
“Easy guys, let’s take this a step at a time,” Harry replied, trying to ease tensions. Taking a deep breath then releasing it, he responded to Ekers, “This is a lot to take in Greg, any more good news for us?” he asked mordantly.
“Yeah, maybe,” Ekers began, ignoring Harry’s tone. “Overton said he had received several distress calls from some of the boats tied up at the docks, so he sent a Defender Class boat to render assistance. However, the Coasties were unable to do much other than fire their mounted deck gun into the crowd of those zombie things around the fence. Because of the size of their boat they were unable to get it into the harbor proper.
“Overton said they took dozens of the damn things out, but with every one that was put down two more took their place. He did mention that with the amount of fire the Defender had poured into the area they had destroyed most of the fencing and many of the unoccupied boats nearest the shore side. The infected didn’t enter the water where the fencing had been, so guess there’s a buffer zone of sorts between the horde and the remaining boats on that side.”
“I can see that,” Derrick commented from behind Harry. “The patrol boat would have a .50 caliber mounted on it and those rounds would have devastated anything they hit. Probably took out two or three of those things with each round and would have simply disintegrated the chain-link fence material.”
Harry nodded in agreement as Ekers resumed. “Overton wasn’t able to render direct aid to the people left on the boats. They did not seem to be organized, and after rounds being shot literally over their heads they became quite wary of that Coast Guard boat. He said they would not answer their hails. The crew on the Defender did launch a small life raft with some survival rations, but he doesn’t know if it was picked up by anyone.
“One other thing to mention here is that the Tern has also been in contact with their counterparts in Southern California. Not sure what the pecking order is between the military in SoCal and up here, but Overton has ordered all his available assets to secure the Oakland Ports. Seems to think there might be valuable supplies there. Here’s the thing though, I got
the distinct impression Overton was feeling us out. Maybe as to whether we could offer any assistance from the land side. I told him we were pinned where we are and wouldn’t be able to do much for the time being. Hell, at the time I couldn’t offer him a cup of coffee.” Ekers stopped transmitting for a moment. Harry remained quiet because he knew there was more coming.
After another minute, Ekers said, “What I am trying to make very clear is that you will be on your own out there, Harry. The Coast Guard has already pulled back to the Oakland Ports. The last transmission we heard was their units had landed ashore. Apparently the port area is crawling with the infected, and from what we gathered from their transmissions it was dicey as to whether they could do anything to secure it. What is left of the National Guard on TI is in effect stranded there with both bridge accesses destroyed. You need to think very carefully before leaving Central, Harry. If you decide to remain, nobody will judge that decision…” Ekers trailed off and stopped transmitting.
Harry was just beginning to reply when Ekers’ voice came through the speakers once again. “But I know you, Harry, and I know you could sooner remain out of this than I could if I had the chance and thought I could make it out. You asked for my orders, so here they are. I want you and your team to attempt to make contact with any survivors, offering whatever assistance possible. Attempt to make contact with Captain Overton and let him know what you have in mind. I don’t think he will stand in your way, but don’t expect any help from him. Be very careful in that contact though. They are edgy as hell right now. I recommend you make radio contact before approaching them. Do you copy that?”
“We copy and that’s reasonable. I will not put us in undue danger, but you’re right that I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Harry said into the mic. “Anything else, Chief?”