by J. W. Vohs
“We hold here or we die! Jack’ll pull our chestnuts out of the fire if we can just buy him some time.”
Blake added another two corpses to the pile of dead to his front. The stalwart, former firefighter wanted his comrades focused on the task at hand. As he ripped the cruel hook of his halberd through the neck of a tall flesh-eater, he shouted, “Just shut up and fight!”
Andi was escorted to a V.I.P. helicopter where she was surprised to find a woman aboard who was a carbon-copy of herself. The woman appeared to be a few years younger than Andi, but she had an average build, shoulder-length red hair, and her clothes were identical to Andi’s: blank pants and turtleneck, a green ski-jacket with fur trim, and a white scarf. The two women eyed each other quizzically, and Andi sat down across from her look-alike, glancing at the guards to make sure they didn’t object. She was pleased that they seemed completely unconcerned with their twin prisoners.
“Hi, I’m Andi. Do you know why we’re here, or why we’re dressed this way?”
“I’m Karyn, and I have no idea.”
The women spoke quietly, but each was anxious to share information. Karyn said that she was from Ohio, and her husband was a high-ranking helicopter pilot—but she hadn’t seen him in over a week. She’d been worried that the soldiers at her door had come to deliver bad news about her husband, but instead they’d told her that the president had a job for her.
“Do you know Barnes?” Andi wondered.
“Not really, not personally. We’ve met, but only at official functions. Do you know him? He’s quite charming, don’t you think?”
At first, Andi wasn’t sure how to respond. Karyn didn’t seem to be sarcastic, but Andi couldn’t believe that anyone would find Barnes charming. “I’m afraid I don’t know him very well either. Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re wearing the same outfit?”
“It’s really weird,” Karyn agreed. “And we look alike too. Are you a natural redhead?”
“Natural enough,” Andi replied. She was trying not to be too judgmental, but Karyn seemed to be a real airhead. “What about you?”
“Mine’s all from a box. I was a brunette yesterday.”
Before Andi could ask her to explain, Matthew Barnes arrived. He glanced at the women, and his mouth twitched as if he was trying to squash a smile. He didn’t speak to them or acknowledge their presence in any way before he joined the pilot for a quiet conversation.
CHAPTER 24
As the fleet turned back toward the island, Jack could see the glow of flames roaring to the west. Within seconds, every motor was at full throttle as the pilots frantically pushed their craft to the limits. Time was something Jack didn’t have, but he managed to take a few seconds to calm his rushing mind and consider the situation. Barnes had been a few steps ahead of him since the fight at Vicksburg. Somebody was working for the mad general in Jack’s camp, and as with the attack on Fort Wayne, Barnes had known exactly how to counter the defenses waiting for him at Middle Bass. The question at the moment, Jack realized, was what the general would expect him to do now.
Jack’s first instinct was to beach his ships and add his forces to David’s in order to repel the assault on the western shore. Deb had said that five landings had taken place, with more transports coming in. Chien and Jack’s fleet had just destroyed a dozen decrepit enemy vessels approaching from the east, but they’d used up their bomb-boats and much of their napalm during the action. Jack now doubted that there’d been any infected on the ships from the east, and he balled his fists in anger and frustration over the fact that Barnes had fooled him again. Now, all he could do was pray that his depleted fleet would reach the other side of the island in time to help his brother’s vastly outnumbered defenders.
As the Neah rounded the southern tip of Middle Bass, well ahead of Chien’s cabin cruisers, Jack could see that David’s forces were apparently making good use of their flamethrowers and Molotov Cocktails at the landing sites. Additionally, Barnes’ pilots would find that beaching their transports on rocky, unfamiliar shores in winter swells wasn’t an easy task. In fact, it was downright suicidal, especially at night. No, safe landings of large numbers of infected would have to take place along the relatively protected coastline near the airport; Jack trusted his instincts and made a tough decision.
“Colonel?” Jack called over the radio.
“Go ahead.”
“Pull all of your boats back to the waters directly in front of the airport. The main enemy attack will take place there. You have to stop them at all costs; those transports will be loaded with hundreds of hunters, maybe thousands. Ram them if you have to, this is a ‘fight to the last man’ situation. You copy?”
“Yeah, Jack, I copy. What are you going to do?”
“I’m using the Neah to help David. As soon as things are under control over here, we’ll come back to you and hit Barnes in the flank.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Chien sounded more confident than Jack felt. The colonel knew that uncertainty could lead to indecision in the heat of battle, and indecision was often deadly. The veteran officer realized that they had to move with purpose and direction, regardless of how badly the defensive plans were unfolding. He gave his former subordinate a kick in the pants. “Get going, Sergeant Smith!”
“Yes sir—see you on shore after we kill ‘em all.”
David’s arms felt rubbery after twenty minutes of non-stop killing of frightened, disoriented infected jumping from the burning ship. Scores of dead and dying creatures covered the frozen ground where the three veterans of David’s Journey had once again made an epic stand against long odds. If the close friends were tempted to brag about the death toll they had inflicted on the enemy this night, they only had to look twenty yards to their right to see several hundred shredded bodies in front of the position defended by Brittany’s family. The outbreak had created conditions that had brought great suffering to the girls and their parents, so at least for Brittany’s father, tonight was payback-time. Now, though, with another transport nosing about off the coast in search of a landing spot safe from the flames of the first ship, the 12-Gauge ammo was all but gone.
“I have three loaded guns,” the shoulder-sore former realtor called to David. “Twenty one shells is all that’s left.”
“Any more back at the harbor?” David shouted in response as he finished wiping the blood and gore from the shaft of his halberd.
“We don’t have time!”
David looked back toward the lake and saw that the next transport was heading in as the fiery hulk of the first settled deeper into the water. The flamethrower was out of action, there were no Molotov Cocktails with this squad, and he was certain that none of the other units had anything to spare as they prepared to receive the second wave of landings. Just then, David’s driver came running up with a message.
“All of the squads are reporting in, sir. They’ve held off the first ships, but everyone is low on ammo and incendiaries. Do you have any orders, sir?”
David thought hard for a moment, realizing that he probably wouldn’t see Christy again, or be around to help with the baby. But then, he realized, if the landings were successful, neither Christy nor the baby were likely to survive the night. The thought of them being torn apart and devoured by the infected infuriated him like never before. David literally snarled his final order. “Tell everyone that we will fight to the last man, period. Our loved ones have no retreat available; we will hold our positions.”
As the driver rushed off to relay the message, David turned back to see that the bow of the incoming transport was now just a hundred meters distant. “Lori, how are you on ammo?”
“Look at me,” she snapped.
He looked over and saw that she was putting the two pieces of her halberd together. “I have two mags of nine-mil locked and loaded. After that, I’m going medieval on the bastards.”
David couldn’t keep a small smile from his lips. “Seems like we’ve been doing that for a long time now.�
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“Yeah, you really know how to provide an exciting summer trip; after the war you oughta become a travel agent.”
“Won’t be any need for lawyers in a world run by General Barnes,” Blake added drily.
All three of the fighters, resigned to their fates, set their feet and prepared to meet the enemy with every ounce of remaining strength. The modified container ship was only a hundred feet from shore now, and the exhausted defenders could already hear the howls of the infected waiting to leap the gunwales as soon as the transport made landfall.
“We’re gonna need a miracle this time,” Lori muttered.
Then, even as her words drifted away on the light breeze, the stern of the enemy ship seemed to disappear in a roar of crushing metal and a shower of sparks: the Neah had arrived. David and his friends began to shout with excitement as they watched the bow of the transport tip up into the air with a wrenching groan. A rear corner of the ship had been completely sheared off by the ram of the icebreaker. With its rudder destroyed and water filling the holds, the vessel began to founder badly. The transport slowly completed a meandering circle, and then began to list sharply to one side.
“It’s going down!” Blake cried.
A hundred meters to the north, another loud crunching noise indicated that the Neah had found a second target. David’s driver had returned. “Sir, all sites are reporting that the ships in the second wave are turning around; they’re running from the icebreaker.”
David released a deep sigh of relief; Lori’s miracle had been delivered. “Let HQ know that we’ve held the western shore, and ask them to relay our thanks to the crew of the Neah. Oh, and ask for an update on what’s happening to the east.”
Chien’s vessels were arrayed two lines deep across a front of several hundred meters. Newly-made sailors and marines were straining to see through the darkness to the east, using everything from NVGs to unaided human eyes. Finally, a Red Eagle operative with state-of-the-art night vision binoculars saw a huge ship emerge from the smoky night, immediately followed by three others.
Chien called out over the radio. “Stick with the plan; second line stay in place, first line . . . let’s set those sons-of-bitches on fire.”
Barnes snapped on a headset and turned his attention to several files that he’d brought in a locked briefcase. He completely ignored Andi and Karyn, but he occasionally interrupted his reading to respond to whomever was contacting him through his earpiece. The noise of the rotors made it impossible for Andi to eavesdrop, so she tried to read his body language without making it obvious that she was watching him.
Andi turned her attention to Karyn. “He should tell us why we’re here and what he plans to do with us.”
“Shhh,” Karyn scolded. “He’s the president, and he’s obviously busy with something important. You should show more respect.”
“Are you serious?” Andi took a few breaths to master her growing frustration while Karyn just stared at her blankly. “Aren’t you worried about what’s going to happen to us?”
Karyn rolled her eyes. “I bet you believe all those stories about the president and how he’s controlling the monsters and killing tons of innocent people.”
Andi agreed, “Yeah, I do.”
“Well, that’s crazy. I don’t know why rumors like that get started, but President Barnes is reuniting the country. He’s bringing people together and protecting us from the zombies. My husband works for him, so I should know.”
“I’ll tell you what I know. I know that Barnes is responsible for the pandemic, and that he will systematically wipe out anyone who opposes him.” Andi figured she was wasting her breath, but she couldn’t help herself. “I’ve been there when the helicopters steer thousands of infected to settlements full of innocent civilians. Women and children. I’ve seen the carnage with my own eyes. I’m here because I was kidnapped so Barnes can use me as a pawn against people I love.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Karyn scoffed.
Andi tried a different approach. “So why do you think we’re here? Why did you dye your hair? Why are we dressed alike?”
Karyn smiled and leaned forward, like someone who wanted to share a confidence. “I think we’re going to play a little joke on my husband. He tells me things, even though he’s not supposed to talk about his work. It’s all very hush-hush, but my Dallas—that’s my husband—he’s a member of the president’s advisory team. He was in charge of some big deal in Idaho or Iowa, some farming state, and I think this has something to do with his homecoming.”
When Karyn said “Iowa,” the hairs on the back of Andi’s neck stood up, and an odd phrase her grandmother used to use popped into her head, somebody just walked over my grave . . .
Carter had studiously avoided an independent command as Jack and Chien had organized the island’s defenses. His plan had worked, mostly, but in the end, his best friend and former commander had conspired to come up with a special task for a soldier as experienced and capable as Carter. He had been put in charge of a Marine force; Carter Wilson was now a Marine. He’d protested, and even threatened to go back to The Castle on his own, but Deb had put her foot down and told him there was no way they were leaving their friends at such a critical time. This was how Carter found himself in charge of four actual Marines from the pre-collapse military, and four of his old Ranger buddies willing to play a new role in the war against Barnes and his army of infected. So far, the makeshift Marines had been held in reserve, but Carter figured that their luck was about to change as the next wave of enemy ships drew closer.
As Chien led his squadron of flame-throwing boats against the approaching transports, it was quickly obvious to everyone that the Middle Bass fleet was unprepared for the sheer size of these enemy ships. Four barge-like vessels, each looking to be as long as two football fields, had been modified with decking installed above the cargo holds. These massive platforms were packed with hundreds of infected, surrounded only by four thick wires that were intended to keep the monsters from falling into the water. Carter watched through his NVGs from the center of the line of reserve ships waiting just off the coast in front of the airport runway; he was shocked by what he saw emerging out of the darkness, and immediately radioed Chien with his concerns.
“Sir, what the hell am I seein’ out there?”
“One of my men says that they’re called Salties,” the colonel replied.
“Salties?”
“Yeah, that means they can go through the Saint Lawrence all the way to the ocean.”
“Won’t they ground themselves before they reach the island?” Carter wondered.
“They might, but the deepest water around Middle Bass leads right up to the airport. Plus, these Salties are basically empty compared to a normal cargo load.”
“How’re we gonna stop ‘em, sir?”
“Just watch,” Chien confidently replied.
One of the colonel’s cabin cruisers pulled up next to the lead Saltie and began spraying fire, repeating the tactic that had worked against the first wave of transports to attack the island. This time the strategy failed, as dozens of fully developed hunters leapt from the deck in a desperate attempt to reach the humans below. Some of the flesh-eaters missed their mark and disappeared into Erie’s dark waters, but others managed to land on the boat. Some of the monsters that reached the cabin cruiser suffered broken bones or worse, but others quickly regained their feet and looked about for their prey. The sailors on board were completely unprepared for an assault by enraged hunters, and the pilot and his four crewmen were ripped apart before they could even pull their weapons. Word spread quickly through the small fleet, and the remaining vessels managed to remain a safe distance from the transports. The problem was that the crude flamethrowers couldn’t reach the enemy ships unless they were right next to them, and after learning of the fate of the crew of the first cabin cruiser, few pilots were eager to close with the transports.
The massive Salties didn’t slow down or deviate from th
eir course; they appeared unstoppable. Carter decided that the time had come for his Marines to do their part in the battle. He called out over the radio. “Colonel, where you at?”
“Circling back from the south.”
“All right, I see ya comin’ up. Listen, get on our tail and follow us in against that first transport.”
“It’s suicide, Carter; those flesh-eaters will just keep pouring onto our decks and overwhelm us.”
“I ain’t dyin’ today, sir,” Carter declared. “We’ll keep ‘em off ya with our firearms ‘til you can get your flamethrower into action. Don’t try to set the ship on fire; just burn the hell outta them hunters. I’ll lead my men up toward the cabin and take out them pilots. Soon as we do that, we’ll kill the engine and turn her sideways; that should block the approach for the rest of those ships.”
A long silence greeted Carter’s proposal until Chien made a decision. “That’s a ridiculous plan, but I can’t think of anything else; we can’t let this many infected make landfall. Give me a few minutes . . . I’m going to coordinate with some of our other boats.”
Carter ordered his pilot to move slowly toward the leading enemy vessel until Chien caught up, then they entered the kill-zone together. The hunters on deck briefly hesitated before reacting to this new threat, probably because three other cabin cruisers were pouring fire onto the other side of the Saltie. The monsters were only a few seconds late in making their jumps, but that was two seconds filled with scores of high-velocity bullets smacking into their faces as they strained against the wires surrounding them. The troops cheered as the hunters crumpled into mounds of corpses, most now missing heads or significant portions of their skulls, but Carter knew his Marines were expending irreplaceable bullets. Cases of various calibers were still stored back at the Castle, but they hadn’t found vast stores of rounds anywhere in their travels across the eastern and northern states. Utah was running low as well. Soon, the war would become a hand-to-hand contest, and the infected were continuing to grow stronger and faster.