by Joe Nobody
“Our brains are confused by all this,” Jack finally whispered to the man at his side. “We’re all in shock from what we’ve seen and learned, and now were walking through a winter landscape right in the middle of the South Pacific. None of this makes any sense, and our grey matter is struggling to compensate.”
“Either that or this place is haunted,” quipped the frightened-looking sailor. “I feel like a five-year-old creeping around a graveyard – spooked and seeing goblins behind every tombstone.”
The two men continued on their trek toward the bridge, both of them remaining in a heightened state of awareness.
Finally coming to the base of Dream’s superstructure, Jack spun the circular wheel-hatch, opened the heavy, watertight door, and stepped into a staircase. They began climbing, now surrounded by grey walls that were only slightly more aesthetic than the carpet of ashen debris outside. The layout was nearly identical to other large vessels he’d been aboard. There were even signs in both Korean and English directing visitors to the bridge.
Jack found Dream was a well-equipped ship, which wasn’t surprising in the least. Most newer, commercial vessels were maintained to the highest standards and nearly always outfitted with the latest technology. While the Korean hauler couldn’t compete with Utah’s space-age bridge; her electronics, radar, radios, and navigation systems were all top of the line.
Evidently, her captain still maintained some old school habits, Jack finding the skipper’s log handwritten in a thick, leather-bound binder. The journal was chronicled in Korean.
Frustrated by the pages of unreadable Asian characters, Cisco’s mind ran a quick mental inventory of Utah’s crew, trying to remember anyone who might possibly be of oriental heritage.
The ship’s log was evidently maintained electronically. Problem was, there apparently was no electrical power aboard Dream. The only usable piece of information they found was a printout of the ship’s manifest. “Appliances,” Jack mumbled, staring across the deck at the hundreds of multi-colored containers. “Washers, dryers, refrigerators – by the hundreds. Mylie would be in paradise.”
Pulling the handheld radio from his belt, Jack keyed the microphone. “Cisco to Daniels, we’ve got nothing up here. Any clues to our mystery below decks?”
The chief’s voice boomed across the line a moment later, “The galley is empty, sir. All of the food in the freezers has spoiled, and the dry stores have been ransacked. Somebody tore the hell out of this place. We’re heading down into the quarters section now.”
“Roger that. We’re on our way to your area. Don’t shoot us.”
“Aye, sir.”
With the captain’s log in his hand, Jack and his comrade descended the stairs. Before they had negotiated the four flights, Daniel’s voice sounded across the airwaves. “Commander, we’ve found the crew … or at least what is left of them.”
Cisco didn’t like the undertone in the older man’s communication but didn’t want to ask a lot of questions with Utah’s crew listening to every word of their transmissions. “On my way.”
Guided by Daniel’s instructions, Jack and his mate hustled into the bowels of the enormous ship, ducking through hatches and jogging through the seemingly endless corridors. Jack discovered the Utah crew members standing around an open door, their faces smeared with disgust, heads hanging low.
“We found this watertight compartment sealed shut from the outside,” reported Daniels. “Apparently, we’re not the first people to board the good ship Dream.”
Jack glanced through the hatch, observing the decayed bodies strewn about the floor of the small compartment. They had evidently been dead for some time because there was no odor. It was also clear that they had all been executed with a bullet to the head.
Other than the sections of rope that bound each of the victims’ hands, the decayed state of the corpses didn’t offer any immediate clues for the mystery surrounding their executions. Jack felt like he should investigate further, but the grotesque human forms at his feet discouraged the impulse.
Turning to Daniels, he said, “We could be looking at evidence of pirates, but this also could have been a mutiny.”
“I think the Dream was breached at some point in time, sir. Given the status of her galley and the absence of anything edible, my guess is someone boarded her while scavenging for food. You will notice that those men still have their watches and rings,” the chief added, nodding toward the bodies. “And we’ve seen smartphones, stereos, and other valuables throughout the crews’ quarters. The only thing missing is the chow.”
The theory made sense to Cisco, but only in the context of the bizarre world he now occupied. Still, there were parts of the puzzle that were missing. “Why only three men? Wouldn’t a ship of this size typically have required at least 12 crew plus officers?”
Daniels grimaced, “I hope we don’t find the rest like this.”
“Send someone up to check the lifeboats. Maybe some of them managed to escape.”
Just then, a member of the investigative team called from the corridor, “Sir, I’ve found something interesting down here.”
Throwing Chief Daniels a ‘What now?’ glance, Cisco moved toward the sailor’s voice.
Entering what appeared to be a crew break area, Jack found one of his men shuffling through a box of computer disks. “Report,” the commander ordered.
“Sir, I served in the Merchant Marines before joining the Navy. We had a setup very similar to this aboard our ship,” he responded, pointing toward the television and assorted equipment on a nearby table. “We would record TV shows from the satellite feed so our crewmates could watch after the end of their shifts. If these guys were doing the same thing, we might see news alerts or other information that was burned onto these disks before everything went to hell.”
Rubbing his chin, Cisco nodded, “Excellent find, Seaman. Good. Very good.”
“We should take the burner back to Utah, sir. The last disk is probably still in the machine.”
“Agreed,” Jack nodded and then turned to Chief Daniels. “Let’s finish our sweep down here, and then we’ll head back to Utah.”
It was no small amount of relief to be outside again, the search bearing no other signs of Dream’s missing crew. The reprise was short-lived, however, Jack’s gut clinching hard when he peered over the railing and down at the tiny speck of raft wallowing in the Pacific swell.
Tucking the captain’s log into his belt, Jack started down the slick rungs, each step and handhold a terror. “I hate heights,” he grumbled. “That’s why I joined the Navy and not the Air Force.”
The trip down seemed much shorter than the ascent, the commander soon finding himself with no more steps to negotiate. Dropping into the raft was another exercise of overcoming fear. At least I’ll only drown. That’s better than falling and then sinking to my certain death,” he reasoned.
Soon, they were bouncing back to Utah, the low profile of the submarine a welcoming sight as it loomed larger on the horizon.
Once aboard the Navy ship, Ulrich examined the disks and captain’s log the boarding party had retrieved, scratching his chin. “Get Ensign Park up here from engineering. I know he was born in Michigan, but I think his mother is Korean.”
A short time later, the DVD player was hooked into a monitor just as Park appeared, “Reporting as ordered, Captain.”
“Do you read Korean, Ensign?” Ulrich asked.
“No, sir. I speak a little and can understand a bit more, but I can’t read a single word.”
Cisco and Ulrich exchanged a look of disappointment but then shrugged. “Hang around, Ensign. Maybe you can still help us out. Let’s see what we have on those DVDs.”
As they had suspected, there was a partially burned disc in the electronic box. The first program they queued to play appeared to be some sort of Korean soap opera or continuing drama. The next segment showed an old black and white movie about the Korean War era.
“They were recording a televis
ion station from Seoul,” Park noted after listening to the first commercial. “They probably received it via satellite.”
“Can you tell when this was recorded?” Cisco asked.
“No, sir. Not yet. But if we watch it long enough, I might catch a reference to a date.”
After an hour, the US audience tired of the foreign language programming, and they had gained no new information for their investment of time. Cisco was about to dismiss the gathering when Ensign Park pointed at the screen and indicated, “A news flash. Maybe it will give us a date.”
The Utah crewmen became quiet as a man in a suit and tie appeared on the screen. “He’s interrupting their scheduled program … a warning … something about Japan and North America.” Behind the newscaster appeared a map of the United States with two red dots, each with a series of vibrating lines extending outward.
One of the map markings was just north of Los Angeles, the other in Northwestern Wyoming. “That’s Yellowstone,” Cisco mumbled, immediately grasping what was occurring without being able to understand a word. “Oh, shit.”
The Korean announcer was reading from a stack of papers in his hand, his voice growing urgent. The map behind the news desk changed again, this time highlighting Japan. A red-vibrating line appeared all along the island nation’s Pacific coast. “He just said the word ‘tsunami,’” Park reported.
The recording abruptly ended, the white fuzz of static filling the screen.
“Yellowstone finally erupted,” Cisco whispered. “That explains all of the ash and the lack of communications.”
Chief Daniels shook his head, “I’ve been there with the wife and kids. There’s no volcano there.”
“It’s a super volcano, Chief,” Jack countered. “There’s no big mountain or cone, it’s typically a low section of earth called a caldera. Yellowstone was the most active and one of the largest formations of its kind on the planet. A lot of people thought it was overdue.”
“What was the red dot north of LA?” someone asked.
“I’m guessing that when Yellowstone blew, it triggered the big one in California. That earthquake, in turn, was probably the reason for the tsunami. The perfect storm of natural disasters.”
The captain shook his head, “I’m still not sure about all this. Let’s say you are right. How could one volcano in Wyoming coupled with a huge earthquake along the West Coast knock out all military communications? Doesn’t make sense.”
Cisco shook his head, “We’re not talking about a normal volcanic event here, sir. The documentary I watched said that a Yellowstone flare-up would be thousands of times more powerful than the Mount St. Helens eruption back a few years ago. If I recall correctly, one of the scientists estimated it would be as devastating as a nuclear winter. Given the amount of ash outside, I think he called it pretty well.”
Nodding, Ulrich seemed to accept Jack’s explanation. “Okay, gentlemen, let’s assume Commander Cisco is correct, and the world has suffered a series of natural disasters. What is this boat’s next move?”
Jack spoke first, “We are still a vessel serving the United States of America, a ship of the line. If my scenario is correct, our country probably needs every man aboard Utah now more than ever.”
“Agreed,” Chief Daniels added, “but not for a suicide mission. Let’s face it, gentlemen. We need supplies. Our crew has to eat. We’re down to a few days of rations.”
Again, Jack sensed an abnormal hesitation in Captain Ulrich. He’s not handling this well, the XO thought.
“I recommend we find someplace to go ashore and secure provisions, sir,” Daniels continued.
“We need to find food, and hopefully we can confirm what happened here and get an updated status. For all we know, that newscast on the DVD was several months old. We were sailing around fat and happy underwater for months. Who knows how long ago this all occurred,” Jack finished.
For another hour the meeting continued, the senior officers analyzing various options. Pearl Harbor was ruled out because of the likelihood of the tsunami severely damaging the facilities there. Heading to the Eastern Seaboard through the Panama Canal was eliminated because of the distances involved, as was reversing their outbound route under the ice pack of the North Pole.
Finally, Ulrich seemed to reach a decision. “We’ll head out for San Francisco, and if that doesn’t look promising, we can continue north to Portland and perhaps even Seattle.”
Jack didn’t like it but held his tongue. The destruction of Long Beach was a sure indicator that California had been hit hard. That meant the bay area was just as likely to have been wiped out, and there was a good chance that the entire West Coast had been devastated. Now, however, wasn’t the time to voice any reserve. Besides, he really didn’t have a better idea.
Chapter 2
Despite Utah’s sophisticated sonar systems, Captain Ulrich decided it was prudent to remain on the surface during the voyage north. The sub’s radar and communications capabilities performed best while above water, and the senior officer wanted to give his boat and crew every possible advantage.
Regulations demanded that a lookout and officer be present on the submarine’s sail while cruising on the surface. Commander Cisco would have the first watch.
Riding in the open air was normally a treat for any submariner. There was something traditional and majestic about breathing the fresh, salt air and having the ocean’s spray against your face. It was an experience that the men of the silent service didn’t often get to enjoy.
Today, however, the thick, gritty air and unseasonably cold temperatures were ruining the experience for Jack. The dark grey, overcast sky only added to his melancholy mood.
Less than 30 minutes after leaving the Korean freighter in their wake, a new factor assaulted the commander’s senses. Something smelled terrible. Rotten. Dead.
The aroma grew more intense as Utah plied the waters, Jack having to focus to keep from gagging. It was the lookout who spotted the source. “Sir, off the port bow, something in the water.”
Sweeping with his binoculars, Jack spotted what appeared to be a coating of some white substance on the surface. It was like an oil slick of huge proportions, only light in color and several feet thick in places. Utah was heading right for whatever it was.
“Bridge, reduce speed to five knots. We’ve spotted something ahead,” Jack ordered into the intercom.
“Answering five knots, sir,” came the immediate response.
“It’s fish, sir,” the lookout stated in amazement. “Millions of dead fish. I see mackerel, sting rays, sea bass, sharks, even a whale over there … the whole sea is full of them.”
Jack saw it too, sucking in a deep breath despite the horrible odor. “Lord have mercy,” he mumbled. “It’s like every animal in the ocean is floating on the surface.”
Utah was in the thick of it now, decaying carcasses of every size, shape, and color rolling down the hull on both sides. Jack spied several species he could instantly identify, others that were too far gone to recognize. The aroma was sickening. “Let’s hope the cook isn’t making tuna tonight,” the commander stated, only half teasing.
“Bridge, are you getting this?” Jack then asked, knowing the crew below was monitoring the cameras in photonic mast.
“Yes, Commander,” Ulrich responded crisply. “But we didn’t notice this when we surfaced before. What could have caused this to happen here?”
“Normally mass kills like this are due to an algae bloom, reduction of oxygen in the water, or pollution. I’m thinking that the lack of sunlight streaming it through the ash cloud is the culprit, but I’m no marine biologist,” Jack reported.
“I know all of that, Commander,” Ulrich snapped back, obviously annoyed. “I’m asking ‘Why here, as in why out in the open ocean like this?’ We’re at least five miles off the coast and.…”
Cisco felt the forward momentum change just as Ulrich was interrupted, the sound of warning tones blasting through the intercom at nearly the sam
e moment.
“Full reverse!” the skipper barked. “Brace for impact!”
Jack had to grab the rail to maintain his balance as Utah’s potent engines sought to change the substantial vessel’s direction. A few moments later, the sickening grind of metal screeched from the front of the submarine’s hull. They had run aground or smashed into a submerged object.
Glancing toward the stern, Cisco noticed water boiling to the surface as the sub’s massive waterjet began working in an attempt to back off whatever had struck the bow. Jack could feel the vibration of straining machinery through the deck plates under his feet.
After several agonizing moments, Utah pulled free, backing away from the slick of dead fish and whatever snare was concealed below the murky water.
Again, the captain’s voice resounded over the intercom, “Damage control parties report to the forward compartments. Chief of the Boat, give me a report ASAP. Commander Cisco, report to the bridge.”
Jack was down the ladder a moment later, entering an area that was brimming with urgent movements and hustling crew. “What the hell did we hit?” Ulrich demanded to know.
The sonar operator’s eyes never left his equipment, his hands flying across the keyboard. “It’s an uncharted land mass, sir.”
Utah’s master wasn’t buying it. “Uncharted? Five miles off the California coast? Are you shitting me? This has to be one of the busiest waterways in the world! There isn’t a fucking lobster pot in this area that isn’t plotted.”
Taken aback by the outburst, the operator’s only response was to lean back from his console and point to the display on his monitor, as if saying, “See for yourself.”
Jack did just that, shouldering in next to Ulrich and studying the screen.
Sure enough, there was a ridge rising from the ocean floor, a sheer cliff face that had reduced the water’s depth from 290 to just under 6 feet. Utah’s sensors couldn’t penetrate through the rock and soil, so there was no way to tell the length or width of the formation.