Read The Infected Dead (Book 3): Die For Now Online

Authors: Bob Howard

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

The Infected Dead (Book 3): Die For Now (40 page)

I was greeted at the dock by a large number of men and women in Army uniforms, all thanking me for what we had done. I kept trying to tell them it was the Chief, but then I learned it was also the hospitality of Jean that had given them hope. Hot showers and hot meals had made us all heroes.

It was roughly a mile to the shelter entrance, but I made good time because I didn't have to worry about any infected dead. I was told to expect the entrance to be open because there was a bite inspection in progress. I wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but when I saw an inspection included a hot shower, I understood people were looking forward to their scheduled inspection. I had to squeeze through about two dozen naked people waiting for their turn, which was interesting, but I had to see Jean.
 

I found her in the kitchen with her little companion, Molly, and both of them tackled me. It was the best welcome home I had ever gotten, and I was loving it. Then I got bummed out because Molly was happy, and I didn't think she knew about her mom.

They saw my expression change, and Jean said, "It's okay. Bus told us, and Molly was happy to find out Allison was a hero."

I didn't know what Bus had told them, but I would have to find out so my story would match his. He apparently said something to make Molly feel like her mother had done something good for the group.

Jean said, "It was so awesome what she did for the Chief when the plane crashed." She managed to give me a quick wink over Molly's head.

"Yes, yes it was incredible," I said. "Hey, I need to get back out there, but I just had to see you two first. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Jean looked as pretty as the day I met her, but time was running short. I had something tugging at the back of my mind, and I had just figured it out. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, but reality was hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I thought to myself, "Where are we going to put about a hundred more people if we have to seal ourselves inside Mud Island until the effects of the radiation are known?"

One more quick hug and kiss, and I was running for the door again. I practically ran over Bus as I reached the outside, and he looked happier than I had ever seen him.

"We did it Ed. We pulled it off. They're rolling the power cables onto the barge and should have it across within the hour. All the prep work done by the Army made it a breeze. If not for them, we would've been shooting the infected all day while the Chief, Tom, and Kathy did the cable."

He was so happy he didn't see my look at first. When he did, he thought something bad had happened to someone, and when I told him what I was worried about, he almost looked amused.

"Ed, I'm sorry. No one told you. We have that all figured out," he laughed.

******

It was only a couple of hours later. The tent city was gone from the beach, and besides the trampled sand there was no sign it had even been there. The soldiers worked efficiently to even drag driftwood into place to make it look more natural. Part of the reason Mud Island was a successful place to hide was because it didn't look like a nice place to be. Hidden among the trees with the cameras were radiation monitors. We didn't have a clue how bad it would be, and we couldn't risk going outside for measurements of the radiation levels.

The power lines were connected, and Mud Island was no longer using reserves. The work had progressed quickly because the moat was more clear than it had been since the infection started. They had even been able to lay the cable on the bottom of the moat, so it was unlikely to ever become disconnected again by something landing on top of it. Without the nets and the hundreds of bodies filling the moat, the current was moving more swiftly, and the barge was easily towed to the northern dock. We placed it where the houseboat had been originally parked on the side facing the ocean. If nothing else, it would block the plane from the harsh winds if there was a storm.
 

Once the barge was tied up at its new home, the Cormorant was literally packed with soldiers. Every square inch had someone squeezed into it for the ride to Fort Sumter. They only brought their weapons and ammunition plus gear they could probably use to restore communications.

Olivia, Chase, Whitney, and Sam didn't know they were going to have company yet, but none of us doubted they would mind. They would be getting the best protection in the world, and Captain Miller would be getting the forward base he had been trying to establish. He said more than once that our small group of friends had been able to accomplish what an entire command structure had failed to do. Maybe that was the answer. Keep it small at first and give it a chance to grow.

The Chief was at the helm of the Cormorant. It was decided the faithful Coast Guard vessel would stay with Captain Miller at Fort Sumter. It was too big of an advertisement to be parked at Mud Island. Besides, it wasn't going to be of much use to anyone until the radiation levels dropped, and even then, it would be contaminated. They planned to disable the machine guns just enough to keep them from being used against Fort Sumter.

Tom stayed behind to spend some much needed time around his daughter, and he planned to have a talk with her about Kathy to see how she would feel about how close they had become. From what we had seen in the last few hours, Molly was smart enough to have figured that out for herself, and she was okay with it.

To ease the surprise at Fort Sumter a bit, Kathy and I were flying back with Bus in the de Havilland Beaver. It was bulkier and noisier than the Otter, but someone had put a lot of love into furnishing it. We had a comfortable ride back to Fort Sumter that seemed to be over too soon.

Since the clock was still working against us, we surprised the others by dropping in and quickly explaining what we were doing, and they were absolutely delighted. To have that many soldiers with them meant they wouldn't have to be afraid of the lower levels, and they would have plenty of company. They were especially excited to learn it was likely that communications would be restored, and they would be able to talk with Mud Island whenever they wanted.

The Cormorant docked at its new home not long after we had arrived, and we all went down to greet them. The men and women who climbed from her decks were smiling, and as each one passed our new friends that we were leaving behind at Fort Sumter, they took the time to say hello and give out big hugs. Olivia gave Chase an elbow and reminded him he was spoken for. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her he would have to do that a lot so she would remember she was spoken for, too.

The Chief took Captain Miller ahead of the rest of the troops so he could give him a quick tour of the shelter. He gave him the codes to the doors and showed him how to find the back door in case they ever needed it. The Captain wanted to spend as much time around the Chief as he could since this would be the second time that the Chief and his friends had saved their lives. Of course the Chief wasn't big on taking credit for anything, but he allowed the Captain and his people to give their respects.

We only had a few hours to spare when we pulled away from Fort Sumter. The Chief was behind the controls of the Beaver, and he had a grin on his face that made him look like a kid. He circled around the stern of the Cormorant, and gave her a salute. We all saw that someone had hung an American flag on the mast, and we were all aware that another flag had been raised on the main flagpole inside Fort Sumter. Someone had found the blue and white state flag of South Carolina and raised it on another pole. As we took off I could see them both, and it felt like the right thing to do.

Kathy said, "It seems ironic that we have a foothold at this place again. It was the symbol of this country's division at one time. The country is divided again, but we have to start somewhere."

It had been a long day, and we were all tired to the bone. When it would all be done, it would be back to the way it had started when the power line got disconnected. Allison was gone, but new families were starting. We had a new plane, and we could do no more than hope the fallout from the Oconee Nuclear Plant didn't mess things up too badly, but hope was what kept us going.

We practically had to make the Chief land the plane when we got back to Mud Island, and Kathy had to keep herself from laughing when she told him he couldn't go out and play after the rest of us piled out on the dock. We had carried back as many cases of MRE's as we could to replenish some of what we had shared with Captain Miller's people, and it would take a couple of trips to haul it in, but it would be worth the labor.
 

Everything looked the way we had left it, and we had to remind ourselves that even in the short time we had been gone the infected could have washed up on the beach and wandered into the dense bushes and trees of the island.
 

We took the time to disable the boat and the plane using the Chief's creative wiring skills. Then we used tarps we had found in huge supply at Fort Sumter to cover them both. Our hope was that decontamination would be easier if we only had to remove the tarps. We wished we could cover the houseboat, but we were running out of time.

The sky to the west had taken on a strange color, and we didn't think it was just the sunset. It was dark and ominous as the cloud grew, and it was so odd to see the western sky grow darker than the east at this time of day.
 

I was facing east as I pulled the door shut on Mud Island, but it already felt different outside, with one exception. An infected dead was stumbling along the edge of the trees in my direction. I wondered if it would survive the radiation, and as the light from the outside disappeared around the edges of the door, I could only wonder how long it would be before we could open it again.

The End

I would love to hear from you, and I value your opinions and comments. The best way to help an author become better at his craft is to write a review, so please feel free to write one. If you would like to know more about me or get in touch with me, please visit my website at realbobhoward.com. You can also sign up for my newsletter and be notified when the next book is released.

With gratitude,

Bob Howard

About the
 
Author

Bob Howard (1951-) was born in New Jersey to an Army Sergeant from Ohio and a mother from Romania. He was moved from one Army base to the next, and before he began high school in Huntsville, Alabama. He had lived most of his life overseas in Germany and Okinawa with brief stays in Maryland and North Carolina.

 

Bob credits his imagination to his exposure to different cultures and environments at an early age. He began reading science fiction and fell in love with post apocalyptic novels. He still has an original copy of the first one he read in 1966, The Furies by Keith Roberts.

 

Bob joined the Navy after high school and continued to move from one base to another, including a submarine base at Holy Loch, Scotland. He eventually stayed in one place when he got stationed in Charleston, South Carolina. Bob graduated with a BS in Psychology from the College of Charleston and married his wife of 31 years. His son still lives in Charleston, but his daughter has married and made a home in Ohio where the Howard family has its earliest known roots.

 

Through the years Bob has had one burning passion that he has wanted to fulfill, and through The Infected Dead Series he is getting to live that passion. Creating a book is something so many people want to do but never have the opportunity, and after writing this book he believes the sky is the limit. He plans to write for the rest of his life because it is enjoyable beyond his wildest dreams.

 

As for the zombie genre, he saw Night of the Living Dead when it originally hit the theaters, and until recently it didn't receive the attention it deserves. He hopes to have a big part in that attention.
Bob wants his readers to love his writing and wants to hear from them. He believes the readers will help him become the writer he knows he can be.

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