Voyage of the Dead - Book One Sovereign Spirit Saga (34 page)

“I mentioned amenities,” Scott continued. “You’ll have satellite TV and DVR programs in your rooms, as well as computer terminals with internet access and satellite telephones.  All of those things still work on this ship, but a lot of the stuff ashore is gone now.  You can try to contact your friends and family, but don’t lose hope if you can’t get through.  More and more utilities are failing ashore and there are a lot of people who are just fine, but cut off from all forms of communications.  However, even if you do get to speak, chat, or email with your mother, sister, wife or girlfriend in Montana, don’t think that means you can jump ship and go to their rescue.  Your duty is here.  To this ship and the people we will rescue and protect.  Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir!” was the slightly less thunderous response.

“Okay,” said Scott.  “One more thing.  Do any of you have families on Camp Pendleton, or in Oceanside, or anywhere near here?  Raise your hand if you do.”  Ten of the Marines raised their hands.

“Do you know where they are and that they are uninfected?” Scott asked.  Six hands remained raised, including that of Sergeant Major O’Hara.  “In that case, I think we should bring them with us.  It looks to me like we have another high priority rescue operation to conduct before we leave this area.  Do you all agree?”  Scott could think of no better way to gain the loyalty of all these Marines than to rescue the families of those who were within reach of their assistance.

“
YES SIR!”
  Thunder was too tame a term for the response.

*****

Interlude in Hell

Chevron Refinery, El Segundo, CA – 1:45 PM, April 6, 2012

            Carl was sitting in the Suburban, listening to the radio for any news he could find, while the rest of the refinery workers were celebrating and doling out their loot from the Big 5 store.  He had already claimed a 12 gauge shotgun and plenty of ammo for it and the 9mm Beretta pistol he had liberated from the zombie cop.  He also took a sleeping bag, an inflatable mattress, a backpack into which he shoved some clothes, a camp cook set, and a carton of dehydrated camping food, all of which he loaded into the rear cargo area of the Suburban.  He wasn’t planning on bugging out of the refinery, at least not yet, but he felt the need to be prepared for escape at a moment’s notice.  The news on the radio only reinforced his decision.

“The situation continues to deteriorate as we lose contact with more and more evacuation centers throughout Southern California. All hospitals in Los Angeles, Orange and Ventura counties have been closed.  Clinics and urgent care facilities are also closed until further notice. Government agencies and local officials continue to instruct all citizens to remain at home, or wherever you are right now.  Secure all doors and windows.  Do not attract attention to yourself and wait for relief to arrive.”

“Shit,” Carl muttered.  By listening to the Fire Department radio he knew that there wasn’t any type of relief coming for anyone, at least not for the average Joe.  Any normal people still out there needed to assume responsibility for their own survival, but the government and media were telling them to wait for help that would never come.   At least not from the authorities they were being told to rely upon.

            “What are you up to?” asked Gus through the window, startling Carl who had not heard him approach. 

            “I’m just trying to catch up on the news,” Carl said.   He suddenly realized, as never before, how dangerous it was now to let anyone sneak up on you.  A damned zombie would have taken a bite out of his arm or neck instead of asking a question.

            “The news is that you are a certified hero, Carl,” said Gus.  “Your plan worked like a charm.  We got a shit load of weapons and gear.  We killed hundreds of zombies.  None of us got hurt.  We learned how to hold off the zombies using nothing more than a high pressure water hose.  We even rescued a family surrounded by all those zombies.  Shit, Carl, you’re the man!  So why are you hanging out here in this zombie killing SUV while the rest of us are throwing a party?”

            “I guess I feel safe right here,” Carl answered slowly.  “Which is probably not a good thing, because I don’t think anywhere is safe anymore.  But that reminds me, when I climbed the fence of this refinery I wanted to get down to the beach.  Do you know how to get there from here?”

            “Sure,” said Gus agreeably.  “Whatever you want, Carl. I think we even have a surfboard or two behind the locker room.”

            “I don’t want to go surfing, damn it,” Carl said.  “I want to see what’s down at the beach.  Isn’t there a power plant there?”

            “Yeah,” replied Gus.  “Two of them actually, but I think they shut it down a few days ago.”

            “What else is down there?” Carl asked.

            “Well, there’s the beach.  Lots of sand.  The ocean.  And the RV park.”

            “An RV park?” Carl pressed with increased interest.

            “Yeah,” Gus confirmed.  “It’s not the best one I’ve seen, but it’s got hook-ups right next to the beach.  Lots of people with RVs from inland seem to like it.”

            “Get in,” Carl told Gus, motioning to the passenger seat.  “Show me.”

Chapter 11:  Search and Rescue

"When a Marine in Vietnam is wounded, surrounded, hungry, low on ammunition or water, he looks to the sky. He knows the choppers are coming..."
General Leonard F. Chapman, Commandant of the Marine Corps

Scott and Sergeant Major O’Hara spent half an hour interviewing the nine other Marines who had family in the area around Camp Pendleton, including the ones who were not sure where their families were, or if they were safe.   Three more Marines asked to speak with them about their girlfriends in Oceanside.  Scott was a little surprised that all of these men had remained with their unit, instead of going home to protect their families.  But O’Hara set him straight on that score.  They were Marines, he said, and they had not been given leave to behave like human beings since the crisis began.  But, if Scott said it was okay, they were all dying to rescue their loved ones.  So be it.

Scott asked Captain Fisher to slow their speed while they were still off the coast of Camp Pendleton and then called Captain McCloud on the
Stratton
to inform him of the situation and ask for use of his helicopters again.  McCloud was hesitant at first, until Scott explained the situation fully.  Within two minutes the orders were issued to prepare all three helicopters for search and rescue missions.  Scott went to explain the situation to Mick Williams personally.

 “Here’s the deal, Mick,” explained Scott when they were sitting alone in Mick Williams’ stateroom.  “These Marines could be our greatest asset.  They’ve been ordered to assist us on a mission where we will be rescuing a lot of our own friends and family, but nobody thought to ask about rescuing theirs.  If we take a little time, and a little risk, to save their loved ones here, we’ll earn a lot of gratitude and loyalty further down the road.  So I want you to fly a few search and rescue sorties to save their families.  It will also be good training for working with them on our own rescue missions later.  Are you okay with that?”

“Sure, boss,” replied Mick Williams with a smile.  “I’ll fly anyone, anywhere, anytime, if you say so.  And I can’t wait to see these Marines in action.  This sounds like a blast.  And it’ll be great if we can rescue their families too.  When do we lift off?” 

*****

            The choppers flew in low over Camp Pendleton, two Coast Guard Dolphins and a slightly larger and older Super Huey.  They each carried a small fire team of Marines who were on the most important mission of their lives: to save their loved ones.  All three helicopters came down together on their first objective.  It was a modest house about a mile outside of the Marine base, set back from the street with a large lawn in front and an open space behind the house large enough for two helicopters to land safely.  This was the O’Hara residence.  The sergeant major gave Mick a smile and wink as he led the three Marines with him out the side door of the Huey and ran towards the back of the house.  Aside from two male bodies lying in front of the house, there were no zombies in sight.   The back door opened as the Marines approached and two women stepped out and waved.  They held shotguns but pointed them towards the ground.  The Sergeant Major lowered his own weapon and ran forward to sweep both women into a hug.

            Mrs. O’Hara and her daughter Sara were delighted to be rescued.  They said there had been two zombies in the neighborhood a few days ago, but the two women had used the sergeant major’s shotguns to blow their heads off as soon as they came close to the house.  The zombie outbreak seemed to be under control in this area, where there was a high percentage of military families.  That was probably because everyone was well armed and had the mindset necessary to do what needed doing.  “Just do what your father would do,” was the instruction Mrs. O’Hara gave her daughter when they faced the undead menace.  With everyone safely aboard, Mick lifted off again towards the next objective. 

This one was a little trickier.  Corporal Morris and his wife lived off-base in an apartment complex near the beach.  This would be another roof top extraction.  But the target apartment was two floors down.  One of the Coast Guard Dolphins made the insertion, dropping Morris and three other Marines off on the roof and pulling back up into formation.  Most of the action was hidden from those waiting in the helicopters overhead, but they could see some of the initial firefight as the Marines fought their way down the stairwell.  Five tense minutes passed before the Marines returned to the roof.  One of them was carrying a semi-limp form with long dark hair.  The Dolphin dropped back down to extract them. Moments later a radio message was received saying that the rescued woman needed medical attention. Dolphin One was returning to the
Stratton
and would rejoin the rescue mission as soon as possible.

The next rescue was at a low rise apartment building that sprawled over several acres.  Dolphin Two landed on the lawn next to the pool and four more Marines jumped out to make the rescue.  Private Snow led the way to the apartment where he and his wife lived.  More than a dozen zombies converged on them from every direction.  At a word the four Marines stopped and formed a square, each taking a different prime direction on the compass.  Five seconds later there were fifteen dead zombies lying on the grass with holes in their heads.  The Marines ran forward to the target apartment and Private Snow banged on the door as he pulled out his keys.  With no answer, he used the keys to unlock the door, pushed it open, and jumped back as a red haired female zombie rushed out to attack him. 

Mick Williams and the O’Hara family had a bird’s eye view of the horror show.  Private Snow fended off the attack by his zombie wife, but couldn’t bring himself to shoot her.  One of his buddies had no such compunction.  A rifle barrel was shoved between the couple and a single shot blew out the back of her head.  She fell back through the door to the apartment and the three other Marines dragged Private Snow back to the lawn for extraction.   Dolphin Two swept in to pick them up.  It was obvious that Private Snow wouldn’t be of any use for the rest of the mission.  Sergeant Major O’Hara asked Mick to use his radio and told Dolphin Two to return to the
Sovereign Spirit
to drop off Snow and pick up another Marine to replace him. 

The next rescue began as more of a search mission.  Private Wilson’s girl wasn’t home.  They knew that because her apartment building had burned to the ground.  But Wilson was sure she would be at her workplace, three blocks away.  That turned out to be a blackjack and poker casino next to Interstate 5 where she worked as a blackjack dealer.  The parking lot was full of zombies, but there was also a group on the roof who stood up and waved like normal people begging for help.  Mick brought the Super Huey in low and Wilson yelled as he identified his girl among the people jumping up and down on the roof.  There were eight of them.  That would more than max out the seats on the Huey, but Mick felt confident that they could squeeze in and that the big chopper would handle the extra weight.  He dropped down onto the roof lightly and informed the Marines that they would have to keep the evacuation orderly.

Three big men pushed through to be first aboard the helicopter, but stopped short at the sight of O’Hara and three other Marines pointing their rifles at them.  O’Hara motioned them to stand back while Wilson rushed forward to embrace his girlfriend.  The other two Marines made a quick inspection of the four female refugees, looking for signs of zombie bites, then ushered them into the chopper with O’Hara’s family.  Wilson brought his girl aboard next.