Voyage of the Dead - Book One Sovereign Spirit Saga

by Forsyth, David

  “Like what?” asked Scott.

  “Like how the infection spread so fast and appeared everywhere at once,” answered the captain. “They say most of the places hardest hit are major transportation hubs, especially cities with big airports all over the world. And they say that a large percentage of the victims that have been identified so far had been traveling by air on or about March 15th. Many other victims had intimate contact with those travelers during the two weeks since then.”

  “You mean simultaneous infection in numerous airports? That sounds like bio-terrorism to me,” Scott speculated.

  “That’s what CDC is implying too,” agreed Fisher. “They haven’t come out and said it in so many words. But the words they do use make it sound highly suspicious.”

  “How so?” asked Scott.

  “Well, part of it is the incubation period,” the captain explained. “Lots of people seem to have been infected on March 15th. So it would seem to have a two week incubation period. Right? But a lot of the people who seem to have caught it from those travelers could not have been infected until days, or even a week or more, later when the infected people came home. Nevertheless, all of them turned into zombies at about the same time on April 1st.”

  “How is that possible?” inquired Scott. “Shouldn’t it take each person two weeks after being infected to turn into a zombie?”

  “Yeah,” agreed the captain. “But CDC says that this virus is different. It mutates as it incubates, or sometimes they use the term gestates. It’s confusing. The transformation to becoming a zombie happens when the mutation is complete, but anyone who caught the virus during the mutation period got the strain at its current stage of mutation. So it acted on them faster and everyone reached the terminal stage at close to the same time.”

  “That’s crazy!” exclaimed Scott. “No disease has ever acted like that before, has it? This has to be genetically engineered.”

  “That’s what it looks like,” confirmed Captain Fisher. “But there does seem to be one bit of good news.”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” Fisher explained, “the CDC thinks the initial virus was an airborne contagion that spread easily between people in close proximity, but the process of mutation turned it into something else. Now it is only being spread by direct contact with infected blood or saliva; Just like rabies, or those classic zombies in the movies.”

  “If that’s true, it really is good news for us and especially for George Hammer and the rest of the people on those boats following him,” agreed Scott. “They won’t need a very long quarantine. If they didn’t change on April 1st and haven’t been in direct physical contact with a zombie since then, they should be free of infection. Right?”

  “Yes, that’s what the reports seem to indicate,” the captain agreed. “And it means that we can go ashore when we need to and only have to worry about direct physical contact with the zombies – if they are right.”

  “That’s the rub,” confirmed Scott. “I think we need to keep up the quarantine as long as we can, just to be sure. But tell me, Jordie, how did the CDC figure all this out so fast?”

  “That’s another weird thing. You remember the news a couple weeks ago about the increase in fatal seizures?” asked the captain and Scott nodded in reply. Fisher continued, “It turns out that a very small fraction of those infected by the virus had an immediate and fatal allergic reaction. It hadn’t mutated yet, so they didn’t turn into zombies, but the spike in fatal seizures on March 15th – lots of them in airports and on airplanes if you recall – got the attention of the CDC. They started doing autopsies and getting tissue samples immediately. Eventually they isolated an unknown virus. The fatal seizures continued over the next two weeks, but at a lesser rate, as more people were infected by the carriers. Samples from the later victims showed mutation in the virus, but they had no idea what the end result would be. They even got blood and tissue samples from relatives of the seizure victims, many of whom had been traveling on March 15th, showing that they were carriers of the virus and their test results all showed the same rate of mutation. So the CDC already had a lot of pieces to the puzzle. They just didn’t have any idea what the final form of the mutated virus would do to people and they didn’t have time to test it in their labs. Since those who didn’t have fatal seizures seemed normal, the CDC didn’t even raise a full scale pandemic alarm either.”

  “Damn it,” said Scott. “This is a bio-terror or bio-war attack! The disease was designed to spread fast, appearing at first to be benign, and then turn deadly in a new form that would turn the infected people into zombies. It’s the diabolical work of an evil genius.”

  “That sounds about right,” agreed Captain Fisher. “But how does that effect our own decisions now, or our long-term chances for survival?”

  “Well,” Scott pondered, “As you said, it might help us decide to take some more chances. More shore excursions, if we can be sure the infection isn’t floating around in the air. That will make it easier for us to get provisions and even rescue survivors. We do have a lot of empty berths on this ship. We can fill some of the staterooms and empty crew quarters with survivors, if we can be sure that they won’t bring the disease aboard with them.”

  “Sure, Scott,” said the captain with a bit of hesitation. “We could fit at least a thousand more people aboard this ship. But we couldn’t take care of them for long. We might not even be able to keep control of them, or control of the ship.”

  “Sad, but true,” Scott agreed. “Still, if we found a safe haven somewhere, we might be able to take survivors there. I’d just like for us to make a difference and fight back against this zombie apocalypse. Knowing that this is all caused by an act of terrorism or biological warfare makes me want to not only survive, but beat it and find whoever is responsible for doing this to the world. I mean it’s one thing if this were an act of God. That kind of apocalypse I might be able to accept, but not this!”

  “Then you might be interested in this personal email message from the CDC,” said Captain Fisher, reaching for a print out of an email on the chart table. “It’s from the Deputy Director for Control of Infectious Diseases at the Center for Disease Control, addressed to you, in response to the message I sent from your scott@sovereignspirit.net email address with your flash traffic that zombies are afraid of water, don’t swim, and prefer to walk down hill. The guy must have looked up sovereignspirit.net and seen that you have a ship and a home in Malibu. He’s asking if you can help rescue a scientist and his research samples from a secure lab in Malibu.”

  “Really?” asked Scott. “Who, where and why are we supposed to rescue?”

  “It’s a scientist named Willard Bernhard. He’s at the old Hughes Research Lab in Malibu Canyon. Looks like it’s just a mile or two from your house. Anyway, the message says he might have vital research data on the virus, but they are having trouble finding anyone to rescue him. This Doctor Frost from CDC asks if we can rescue him and let him use our marine biology lab and communications gear to get his findings to the CDC. How’s that for helping to beat this thing?”

  “It’s a good start. Let’s do it,” Scott decided. “And see if you can get this Dr. Frost on the Sat Phone. I want to know as much as possible about this.”

  *****

  Billy Allen and his friends aboard the Sovereign Spirit had been busy with their assigned task to monitor the internet and store as much information on the zombie outbreak as possible. Most of the major TV news networks were off the air, except for Fox Rusher on GNN, but the internet was still full of activity. Billy’s friends had confirmed via Facebook and Gmail chat that they had established a secure compound in the hills of Malibu with over a dozen young people. Billy continued his efforts to contact more of his Facebook “friends” as well as real-world friends and encourage them to get together and hold out for a probable rescue mission when Sovereign Spirit reached them. But he had not yet had the opportunity or courage to confirm his promises with Scott or Captain
Fisher.

  Mitch had spent most of his time searching internet websites for news of zombies. His efforts resulted in a mishmash of confusing results. Google searches using the “news” function were full of reports of outbreaks around the world on April 1st. These postings decreased in number, but increased in horror over the next day. Most of the online reports simply confirmed or expanded upon the news they were still getting from TV. However, many of them were coming from places that had not been covered by the remaining TV networks.

  Internet news posts from China and Southeast Asia (at least the ones written in English) were full of zombie attacks and mass mayhem. Europe seemed to be disintegrating into a death zone. Russian and East European blog posts described a blood bath worse than anything from the Nazi invasion. Postings from Africa and South America were dwindling, except for Argentina where a religious crusade appeared to have been launched against all zombies and foreigners. South Africa was also online, with postings about race riots and power to the people, dead or alive. Mid-Eastern news was mixed. Mass riots and bloodshed were reported in almost every Arab country. Egypt was, perhaps, the worst with tens of thousands reported killed in Cairo without stopping the spread of violence. They didn’t use the term zombies though. There were also reports of a war between Israel and almost everyone else in the region. Pundits feared a nuclear exchange there and between India and Pakistan. There was no news out of Iran or North Korea at all and that raised even more concerns.

  Some of the most interesting things Justin found were on websites dedicated to fighting zombies that had been written long before the outbreak. Some of them advertized products you could buy to fight zombies, although most of the items for sale seemed comical when contrasted with the true level of the threat that had actually engulfed the world. Others were by groups of people dedicated to defending against the coming threat of zombies. One post that stood out came from the CDC almost a year ago that tried to educate people on how to survive a “zombie apocalypse.” Did they know this was coming? Or was it really a tongue in cheek satire for disaster preparedness? At this point, Justin wasn’t sure.

  “Billy?” said Justin. “You know that the CDC posted a zombie survival guide last year?”

  “Yeah, you mentioned it yesterday,” answered Billy who was busy sending instant messages on his own computer terminal. “It was a joke. So what?”

  “So, it’s not so funny now,” Justin continued, “Do you think they knew this was coming?”

  “Anything is possible, I suppose,” replied Billy. “But I doubt anyone thought this was coming. Still, you should probably save and print their warning. There might be something useful in it.”

  Billy returned to his Facebook page and decided to try another message to his friends in Malibu.

  Billy Allen: Says try not to attract any attention and be prepared to defend yourselves. Also, if Facebook and Gmail go down, but you still have access to the internet, you might be able to contact us through sovereignspirit.net. That is this ship’s private web server and it is linked to the internet by satellite. Hang in there. We just left Cabo and should get to Malibu within a week or so. Keep your heads down and your chins up. Help is on the way.”

  Billy posted his message and turned to look at his friends. Mitch and Justin were busy surfing the web. Beth looked like she was taking a nap on the couch next to the espresso bar. Jake Argus, Mark’s teenage son, had entered the room quietly. He was leafing through a book he had brought with him.

  “Hi Jake,” said Billy. “What’s up?”

  “Not much,” the teenager replied. “I’m just looking at this book my dad gave me. It’s the Zombie Survival Guide. He says it has a lot of stuff that we might need to know now.”

  “Great book,” exclaimed Justin. “I didn’t know we had a copy aboard. We should make that mandatory reading. Right, Billy?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Billy replied. “You learning anything from it, Jake?”

  “Sure, man,” said Jake. “But the zombies they talk about are a little different than the ones on the news now.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Mitch, who had turned to join the conversation.

  “Well,” Jake replied. “The ones in the book are slow and stupid. I don’t know if the real ones are stupid, or not, but they sure aren’t slow. I’ve seen them on TV and my dad was on the helicopter that went to Cabo. He says they move fast. I sure wish I had my Tommy gun.”

  “Your what?” asked Justin.

  “My Thompson,” replied Jake seriously. “My dad gave it to me a few years ago. It’s a 45 caliber sub machine gun like they carried in World War Two. There’s even a video of me shooting it on You Tube. I could blow a bunch of zombies away with that baby.”

  “Sure, buddy,” smiled Justin. “And I wish I had a flame thrower too.”

  “I’m not sure how well that would work,” Jake said seriously. “If they don’t feel pain they could just keep coming at you through the flames. But we might have one of those aboard, and a Thompson too, you know?”

  “What?” Billy asked in surprise. “No, I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

  “Oh…” Jake paused. “Your dad didn’t tell you? Well, my dad brought a bunch of weapons aboard when your dad picked us up in Honduras last year. Your dad has them hidden somewhere in this ship. They were supposed to be used to defend us from pirates on our voyage around the world. But now we can use them against the zombies. Right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Billy agreed as he exchanged glances with Mitch and Justin. Billy didn’t know about the arms caches. He had been at Cal Tech when the ship stopped in Honduras last year to pick up Jake and his father, Mark. Billy only got to spend vacations on the ship, until he and Mitch had taken a quarter off to meet the Sovereign Spirit in Australia and cruise back across the Pacific. In fact, he was supposed to have flown back from Cabo to start the Spring Quarter today. But he wasn’t surprised that his dad hadn’t told him about the weapons. He was a little surprised that Jake knew about them, until he remembered that Jake had already gone through paratrooper jump training before graduating high school. Mark raised his son a little differently than Billy’s dad had.

  “What kind of weapons?” Justin asked suspiciously.

  “Oh, all kinds,” Jake answered smoothly. “Assault rifles, machine guns, sniper rifles, grenades and grenade launchers, a few LAW rocket launchers, plastic explosives, you name it. Maybe even a flame thrower. I don’t know exactly. You can buy anything for a price in Honduras, and I guess your dad forked out quite a bit for that stuff. It filled up the whole truck that we brought aboard in San Pedro Sula. I never saw where it went after that.”

  “Cool,” said Billy. “That could come in handy. And so will that book. Keep reading it and let us take a look at it when you’re finished, okay?”

  “Sure,” Jake said agreeably and went back to skimming the pages in front of him.

  Billy turned to Mitch and said, “I think it’s time that I had a talk with my dad.”

  *****

  Scott was staring out over the open sea as the moon rose above the other side of the ship. The Sovereign Spirit cast a long moon shadow over the dark sea, but there were glimmers of light flickering on the waves near the horizon and the whitewater of the ship’s wake added blue-green phosphorescence to the foreground of his view. It reminded Scott of an ominous scene in a horror movie, but perhaps that was because he was actually living one. It was almost a relief when Captain Fisher handed him the telephone.

  “Doctor Frost?” Scott said into the sat-phone. “This is Scott Allen aboard the Sovereign Spirit. We’re all hoping that the CDC can find a cure or solution to this horrible plague, and I understand that you have a mission for us that might help you accomplish that.”

  “Yes, Mr. Allen, or is it Commodore?”

  “That’s debatable,” said Scott. “I’m leading a flotilla of survivors north towards San Diego from Cabo San Lucas, but nobody has officially made me a commodore, sir. I just
want to get everyone on this ship, and the boats following us, to someplace safe, but we’re all willing to do whatever we can to help you find a cure.”

  “Well, Commodore,” responded Dr. Frost. “I don’t expect you to find a cure, but I would ask you to find a scientist that could help point us in that direction. His last known position was in Malibu and I understand that you have a home there. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Scott. “And we are planning to take this ship there eventually.”

  “Eventually might not be soon enough, Commodore,” said Dr. Frost crisply. “We have reason to believe that there are some important researchers trapped inside of a lab in Malibu Canyon. The local authorities seem to have lost all control of the area and are not responding to our requests for priority extraction. Unfortunately, the military commands that we are still in contact with also seem to have their own priorities and limited assets. Your ship might be the best chance we have to conduct a rescue.”