by Howard, Bob
Iris pulled the body off of Sora, and he saw his friends had disposed of the other infected.
As he took her hand to get up she said, “You need to teach me that trick sometime.”
Yuni hugged her husband for several minutes, but they knew they couldn’t afford to waste much time. They knew they were seeing firsthand a futile attempt by someone to defend themselves against the infected, but whoever had built the walls and laid the spikes couldn’t have known that a massive migration of infected was coming their way.
There was a main entrance to the barrier walls that surrounded what appeared to be the original campsite, and the pits filled with the infected were a mass of writhing arms and legs. The noise they were making would carry further at night and would draw more infected to the area, so they needed to move out quickly.
George had spotted a row of cars and RV’s parked near the common building of the campground. A quick inspection near them produced several plastic jugs of gasoline and some propane tanks.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I agree,” said Iris, “but we have to time it right. After we set them on fire, they’ll be like a beacon to plenty more.”
Sora said, “So, let’s check out the big houseboat and then set the pits on fire. We can clear out of the area while the fire draws in the infected. The best part is the way the stupid things will just walk right into the pits with their buddies.”
“It’s too close to dark,” said Yuni. “We could run right into them. We have to wait until morning.”
Iris nodded in agreement, “This changes everything, though. That horde is converging on the Interstate going southeast. When we light the fires there will be plenty that come back this way. When they do, we have to be moving east, straight for the coast.”
“That’s not where we want to go,” said George.
This time Iris grinned, and that always meant she had a plan.
“I never thought it was a great idea to be following the biggest horde in the state. They’re going to bottleneck when they reach the part of the Interstate that crosses swamps, and that’s going to slow them down. Thousands will get stuck in the swamps or take forever to get through them. I think we should cut straight across to the coast after we light the fires. We need to find a place the Chief told me about. It’s called Mud Island.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Visitors
Year Two of the Decline
It really wasn’t a problem to have so many of the infected dead stuck in the bottom of his oil rig. The more he thought about it, the more Maybank realized it was another layer of protection. He imagined that other oil rigs had similar issues, and it would be worse for them. If there were survivors on other oil rigs, they wouldn’t have the benefit of going inside an airtight shelter to get away from the smell.
Then there were the rats. He had been right that the rats would jump ship when they had the chance. There was something about their survival instinct that told them they shouldn’t stay on the floating island of the infected, even though it was an unending supply of food. It didn’t matter that their instincts were wrong, and they weren’t going to have food forever on the oil rig. If an opportunity came along for them to jump ship again, he expected that they would. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight if it was another pleasure craft like Hector’s.
Maybank expected that it would be a good idea to throw the switch again, the one that would send current through the metal catwalks. He would need to do it several times because there would always be a few rats somewhere that the current didn’t go, and one of those places was the tangle of bodies left behind by the dead tide. Then again, it was worth letting them clear out some of that food supply first.
After a couple of months watching the rats eat away at the bodies, Maybank could tell that they were making progress. At first, there didn’t seem to be any change, but then it occurred to him that the pile was deeper than just what he could see. As the rats would eat an infected dead on the surface, another would pop to the surface and replace it. The entire time the pile moved in a bizarre waving motion as if they were fans at a rock concert swaying with the music, their hands reaching out toward the band.
Maybank took pictures of them from above and compared them with older shots. He couldn’t figure out why the pile looked the same every day, but then he saw bodies being replaced, and he could only guess how many replacements there would be before the tangled mess got smaller.
When the change started to happen, it happened fast because the bodies under the pile were also the anchors. They were being pressed down from above all the way to the ceiling of the shelter. When they drifted upward, the bodies also began spreading apart. After three months of looking at the bodies, Maybank was excited when he saw water begin to appear between them. The island of infected dead started acting more like an ice flow as bodies broke away from the outside edges and drifted away on the current.
The rats were running out of places to nest in the remnants of the dead tide, so more and more were tearing scraps of clothing from the bodies and carrying them up to the catwalks. With so much metal above them, there weren’t many places that made natural nests. The former quarters of the construction crew had proven to be well made because the rats hadn’t found a way to get inside, although they certainly tried. They had ripped insulation from the bottom of the building to build one large nest, but they hadn’t gotten to the food supply inside.
They finally got their chance to leave what was left of the bodies still tangled below almost six months after they arrived. It wasn’t without worry for Maybank, though. He knew the oil rig would be tested over and over again. The drug lords and other unwanted guests weren’t a big surprise. The dead tide was such a total surprise that he didn’t think anyone in his survivor’s club would have predicted it, but it was more of a long term nuisance than a real test of the oil rig. He also expected storms to pound the oil rig and test its ability to stay in one piece, but the real test was what he saw coming his way from the west.
He wanted the rats to leave, and a container ship was just what he needed to give them plenty of incentive, but he needed the ship to dock at the oil rig, not ram it. The derelict coming his way was drifting with no one at the helm. He could tell because it had the starboard side facing him, but it was still getting closer.
With good visibility, his worst fears were confirmed when he spotted infected dead on almost every level that had good safety rails. They weren’t falling overboard, but he didn’t expect to see any survivors trying to steer it away from a collision with his oil rig. This was the test he had feared the most, but with calm seas, it wasn’t going to be as bad as it could be, especially since it was carrying a heavy cargo. He could tell the cargo was heavy because she sat low in the water.
The best case scenario was that the container ship would miss completely. The second best would be that it drifted close enough for him to attach the docking lines and get her to drop anchor. Those stacked containers might be full of TV sets and party favors, but they could also be full of MRE’s.
Maybank mentally chastised himself for even thinking that was the second best outcome for this new arrival. He wouldn’t need a single meal from the container ship for thirty years, and he didn’t know why he was thinking it would be a good idea to cross over to take control of the ship. He wouldn’t try that with the help of a SEAL team. For a moment, he questioned his own sanity again.
When he went back to considering the realistic possibilities, the most obvious hope was a miss, but the likely outcome was a collision. Charting its progress only confirmed that outcome.
He studied the ship for several minutes and estimated that its speed was slow enough for his rig to withstand the impact, but any damage was more than he wanted to give up. He also couldn’t tell if it was going to be a glancing blow or a direct hit.
A spot appeared on the water at the bow of the big freight carrier, and it turned to race along the starboard side headed for the
stern. It was a small boat, but it was fast, and Maybank couldn’t tell how many people were on board. When it reached the stern, it turned the corner and disappeared. His best guess was that someone was trying to find a way to board the container ship. Other than the fact that it had infected dead on board, it wasn’t the dumbest thing to do. That was a floating warehouse, and if even one container held useful supplies, it could spell salvation for someone for years.
A few minutes later it appeared at the bow again and made another fast turn, but this time it pulled away and throttled down its speed. Apparently, neither side was trailing a rope or a ladder that could be used to board the derelict. If they were going to board her, it needed to be from above, and Maybank considered what he would do if he was them.
It didn’t take long for him to come to the conclusion that the people in the small boat would want the container ship to collide with the oil rig. All they had to do was be in the right place on the rig and drop down onto the ship. Of course they weren’t aware of the problems that were waiting for them on the oil rig.
His conclusion was confirmed when the small boat pointed directly at the oil rig and throttled up again. Maybank had no doubt that whoever they were, they planned to board the oil rig and then cross to the container ship when it arrived. His dilemma was whether or not to help them.
Maybank had no intention of leaving the shelter. That much he knew for sure. Titus had made it perfectly clear to everyone that they would face situations when they were forced to play God. His number one rule was not to leave the shelter under any circumstances. Rule number two was not to open the door and let someone in. That wasn’t going to be a problem for him, and if he had his preference, the people in the boat would never know he was even there.
He made his decision, and if he was lucky they wouldn’t suspect it had been a living person who had helped. Maybe they would think it was divine intervention, but he felt like he had to take the chance.
To the man and woman in the small boat, the oil rig being in the path of the container ship had to be a good sign. If the ship hit the oil rig, maybe it would stop it from moving. Even though it wasn’t moving on engine power, it was moving too much for them to get a line to the main deck. If it wasn’t moving, they could climb aboard the oil rig and then lower themselves onto the containers. They would have some of the infected to deal with, but from what he had seen, the infected could be eliminated if they were careful.
Maybank threw the power switch that electrified the oil rig. He didn’t have his audio turned on because he didn’t really want to hear the sound of a few thousand rats being electrocuted. It was a good decision. As miserable as the rats were, the screams would have made him stop, and he was going to be forced to do this sooner or later. Besides, he didn’t know how things were on other oil rigs, but his guess was that the dead tide had deposited rats everywhere it went, and the people approaching his oil rig had to know the rats were even more dangerous than the infected.
The catwalks, the pipes, the railings, the cables, and everything else made out of metal that could carry the current to the rats did its job. Thousands were eliminated in seconds, and all the people in the boat knew was that it was raining furry bodies up ahead. They made a sharp turn and cut power at the same time and put themselves broadside to the oil rig. Something had caused the rats to fall off of the oil rig, and judging by the fact that hundreds of them were on fire and trailing smoke as they fell, it had to be a power surge of some kind. There was only so much divine intervention they could accept, but they still didn’t openly suspect that someone was watching from the oil rig and trying to help them. To them, that would have still been an act of God.
Besides the rats that were hit by the first wave of power and killed, hundreds more were jolted enough to make them fall from the oil rig, and hundreds jumped on their own. The remaining tangle of bodies above the submerged shelter was covered with them.
Despite the fact that rats are known to carry diseases and had become an even bigger threat to people in some places than the infected dead, they had been doing Maybank a big favor. Eliminating the floating tangle of bodies below the oil rig was something he couldn’t have done without them, and they added another layer of security. It was too bad that they couldn’t be dumped onto the container ship for a few weeks to clear out the infected, but if they found a container full of food and managed to get inside it, he would never get rid of them.
Maybank turned off the current and waited a full minute before turning it back on. In the sixty seconds with the current turned off, hundreds more rats had wandered onto dangerous places, and once again they rained onto the water below. He set a timer for five minutes and waited.
Out in the boat the couple began to slowly circle the oil rig. There were small fires burning on the island of bodies, but it was too soggy to be anything but the rats burning. Maybank could see them more closely on one of his monitors, and he could guess what they were trying to decide. They didn’t know what was happening to the rats, but they could make an educated guess. The question was whether or not it was accidental. The last place they would want to be was on the oil rig when the next electric shock came along. Maybank knew that they would eventually decide that it was a chance they would have to take, but he had to be sure to remove enough rats for it to be safe.
At the ding from the five minute timer, Maybank threw the power switch again. More rats caught fire and dropped from the oil rig, but this time there were far fewer than the last time. He set the timer for ten minutes and felt a small bit of satisfaction when he saw them check their watches. If they were smart enough to start timing the electrical charges, they might reach a decision that the charges were becoming less frequent on their own.
They continued to circle the oil rig and were watching the time when five minutes went by. He saw the woman gesture toward her watch. At the ten minute mark Maybank did it again. This time there were distinctively fewer rats electrocuted, and he set the timer at a half hour. He also scanned the metal framework of the oil rig and knew he was accomplishing what he needed to with the rats. The only movement he saw was on the few bodies that were still floating above the shelter, and the really good news was that the bodies were finally drifting free of the place where they had been stuck when the dead tide passed through. He was finally going to be free of the ugly sight and the rats at the same time.
When the timer went off at thirty minutes and he threw the switch again, Maybank was glad that he had set the intervals to lengthen quickly. The container ship was drifting closer, and he wanted to give the couple the time they needed to get onto the rig. Only a few rats fell this time, and he set the timer for an hour. If they didn’t climb one of the towers by then, he would burn off whatever rats were left, but he didn’t believe they would wait. Of course he would also be watching them closely, and if they were in a safe place in one hour, he would throw the switch again.
Maybank extended the ladder rungs on every tower. He planned to do it when they weren’t looking, but he could see by the woman’s reaction that she saw the movement.
******
Janice Parker reacted the way anyone would in the same situation, and she scared her husband to death. He was steering the boat and was more concerned with the bodies in the water. Bodies from the death tide were scattered at random, but the furry bodies of rats were everywhere, and some were trying hard to get into their boat. It was amazing how they managed to get a grip on the boat even though he had increased speed.
David Parker swerved hard when his wife screamed because he thought she was warning him that they were about to hit something. The boat almost swamped in its own wake.
It seemed like they were finally in luck when they had spotted the container ship. Then there was no way to board it. The oil rig wasn’t an unusual sight in the Gulf of Mexico, but so far they had steered clear of them because they were all occupied by people who didn’t want company. They had been shot at every time they approached one. This was th
e first one that appeared to be abandoned, and it was even electrocuting the rats.
When the rats had started catching fire and falling from the big, ugly maze of pipes, they both agreed it was just a bit too coincidental, but if someone was behind it, they weren’t shooting at their boat, and that was a first.
David got control of the boat and pulled it further away from the oil rig. Janice wasn’t prone to panicking so he knew there had to be some reason she had screamed in his ear. She was still pointing at the big tower they had passed, but since he had already traveled so far away from it, he kept going to the next one.
“The ladder rungs came out of the side of that tower just as we were going by.”
“You saw them come out?”
“Yes, they weren’t there at first, then they all came out at the same time. Aren’t you going back?”
“The current is moving toward that side of the oil rig. It’s carrying rats and dead bodies that way. By the time we would be able to tie off the boat and start climbing, we would have the rats climbing with us. Let’s check the other towers before we use that one.”
They passed under the Power Module and saw that the ladder rungs were out, but David wanted to get as far from the current as possible, so he kept going toward the Wellbay Module. He was relieved to see that was a good decision because the rungs were out on that tower, too. David coasted up to it, and Janice used a boat hook to catch one of the rungs. There were bumpers at the waterline of the tower to keep them from ramming the boat against metal, so they tied against it.
David didn’t have to say anything to Janice about climbing. She was on her way as soon as she was close enough to grab a rung. She wasn’t sure if she was going to receive an electric shock, but they had to take the chance. Something told her there was someone inside the oil rig who was helping them, and she was so tired of trying to stay alive that she was ready to get help from someone.