Hell Released (Hell Happened Book 3) (21 page)

The building making all the noise seemed to have settled, but Chuck and Yvonne both waited for a few minutes. They heard wild animals off in the distance fighting and some birds began to chatter in the waning light of sunset.

“Wait here,” Chuck said and jogged back toward the clothing store they’d been in earlier. Halfway there, he went inside a storefront and came out with several penlight flashlights.

They went back in to see Danielle had cleaned up their evening meal. She seemed uninterested in the noise from outside. Chuck handed her one of the lights, hung two of them up on nails in the walls to provide them with some light.

They talked about what they hoped to accomplish the next day and decided they could best get ready for it by getting as much sleep as they could.

The door to the furniture store had been shattered and Chucked looked around for a way to block the door to keep any wild animals from coming in. He ended up using the SUV on the outside and several of the beds they weren’t using to block the entry on the interior. Were it not for the penlights, it would have been total darkness inside the building.

Even though Chuck had put bedding on three queen size beds, Yvonne and Danielle, who had each been kneeling in prayer on opposite sides of the bed they’d chosen, climbed under the comforters in the bed beside the one Chuck would sleep in. Chuck didn’t care one way or the other, so he took off his jacket and gun holster and laid them on the third bed. He kicked off his brand new work boots and took off the brand new socks and put them in the boots. He turned off the two flashlights he had hanging on the wall and used his own penlight to find his way back to his bed. He turned the light off and took off his pants because he would sleep better without them and slipped under the three comforters.

It was quiet in the building. No one wished anyone else the empty platitude of a good night. Chuck listened to the sounds from outside and could hear wild animals. He was just about to drift off to sleep when an animal screeched somewhere close by. It startled him awake, but he didn’t get up. His heart was pounding and he reached over to the third bed where his pistol was and pulled it from its holster and put it under his pillow. He also put a penlight under his pillow as well.

He heard whispering in the next bed then movement.

The women climbed under the blankets on his bed, one on each side of him. “Don’t get any ideas, Chuck. We’re in your bed for security, not love,” Yvonne told him. “One wrong move and I gut you in your sleep.”

Chuck had no doubt the lovely black woman would not hesitate to gut him. “I’m too tired and I have a headache,” he told her, feeling the warmth of both women beside him. “And I believe you would.”

“And you damn well better keep that headache all night,” she warned.

Chuck hadn’t been with a woman in years and feeling the body of Yvonne and Danielle curled up next to him was decidedly an emotional occasion. He felt Yvonne’s hand on his chest as she laid her head on his right arm. Danielle pulled his left arm around to comfort her and he made damn sure to keep his hand in an area where she wouldn’t feel threatened. She had her left hand on his stomach. He hoped to all that was holy that she didn’t move it when she slept.

In the darkness, he heard the two women breathing slow as they were falling off to sleep. He felt Danielle’s cold feet against his legs, but her warm body against his side and Yvonne’s breasts against his ribs as she breathed warm air across his neck. It had been so long since he’d slept with a woman and now there were two curled up beside him, wanting his security.

“Shit,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Oh my God,” Yvonne said.

“Yup,” Chuck told her. “I gotta piss.”

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Garrick and Marissa shared the bunk in the captain’s compartment fully clothed.

Both were at their limit of endurance. Neither had the energy to feel uncomfortable and with all the recent death worldwide and the ships on which they’d been deployed, the re-affirmation of someone else being alive and close, helped both of them sleep.

Marissa was up first in the morning and showered in the captain’s head before putting on the same clothes she’d worn the day before. Garrick did the same and was dressed by the time she had coffee made for them.

They avoided talking about sleeping together, there were more important things to think and talk about.

On their way to the bridge, they stepped around other refugees who had found blankets and were sleeping in the passageway. If this had still been a submarine on maneuvers, it would have been unacceptable and dangerous. With the sinking of the aircraft carrier
Stennis
and the sub overcrowded with mostly civilians and a few sailors, people were sleeping any place they could find.

Garrick entered the bridge and Vasquez, who had been left in charge of making sure the boat didn’t run into anything, was asleep in the captain’s chair. There were two new sailors at the helm driving who Garrick didn’t recognize. He placed his hand on Vasquez’s shoulder and the young man was startled awake.

“”Petty Officer,” he said, wiping sleep from his eyes. “I’m sorry, I was….”

“Don’t worry about it, Vasquez. No harm, no foul and you got some badly needed sleep. What’s the status of the sub?”

“We’re still steaming at about five knots on a heading of,” he got up and looked at the digital compass, “on a heading of 345 degrees. We’re keeping a distance of about 15 nautical miles from the flames and debris in the ocean.”

“Thanks, Vasquez. Now go down to the mess hall, see if you can’t get something to eat then go to the captain’s quarters and get yourself some real sleep. Come back when you’re not tired, not when you wake up.”

“Thank you, sir. Seaman Recruit Nguyen,” Vasquez pointed to the Asian man sitting at one of the helm stations, “has been on as long as I have and probably needs some sleep too.”

Garrick walked up to the young man, he didn’t look to be more than 18 years old, and put his hand on his shoulder. “You too, Seaman, breakfast and sleep. When you guys go to the mess hall, send some sailors back up to take your place. I’ll drive for a while Marissa captains the boat.”

The two men smiled half-heartedly and left the bridge. There were several other people on the bridge, but they were there because of the lack of room, and not contributing to the operation of the submarine
U.S.S. North Carolina
.

Garrick sat down at the helm, a station he knew how to operate from his training, but had never operated outside of simulations. Marissa sat in the captain’s chair and looked at the monitors that were focused on the distant flames and black smoke still billowing skyward.

“Marissa, would you pick up that handset and ask if there is anyone in engineering awake, please?”

Garrick found there were three sailors working in engineering. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they could do. They said everything appeared to be working well, but admitted there was too much they didn’t know and they were doing their best with the manuals to keep things from going critical.

Garrick asked if it would be safe to increase speed and the one on the handset said he couldn’t see any problems or dials in the red.

Garrick turned the dial to increase the sub’s speed. Garrick knew he needed to get these people on land. Much more time on the sub and fights would begin to break out. Food would soon become an issue as would sleeping arrangements.

The fires burning 15 miles or so off to starboard were also a detriment to the morale of everyone. From their vantage point, it looked like the Great State of California was on fire. Garrick admitted to himself that even he would feel better if they could see land without the flames and smoke.

Two new crewmen reported to the bridge and took their place, replacing Garrick and the other young man took the second empty seat. Garrick gave them crash courses on the operation of the equipment, but the sub wasn’t going to dive again if there was anything Garrick could do to avoid it. The boat was on the surface and with the hatches open, as safe as he could make it.

He moved over to the navigation maps and looked at the coast of California. He had a good idea where they were at by the simple expedient of taking the time they were doing five knots per hour, times the number of hours they had been going in that direction. He knew he could be wildly off, but he wanted to have some idea and it wouldn’t hurt morale if the people aboard didn’t get the impression they were lost.

Marissa came over and looked over his shoulder. As a concierge aboard the
Pride of America
, she was well-beyond her skill set. Just to do something, she told him she was going to go find them some more coffee and check on the passengers. “Good idea, on both counts. Thanks,” he told her with sincerity.

The submarine worked its way along the coast and eventually the fires fell behind them. Late in the afternoon, a cheer went up when they finally saw land on the horizon that wasn’t obscured by smoke. They’d passed by San Louis Obispo, Monterey and Santa Cruz according to what Garrick could figure from the maps and what he could see through the scopes and binoculars. All three cities had been wiped off the face of the earth and Garrick could see no place in all the debris to get the sub close enough to land to safely get all the passengers aboard.

Early evening came as the sub sailed abreast of San Francisco Bay. The bay looked wider than the maps showed and Garrick realized all of San Francisco was gone. The land from San Francisco to Pacifica had either sunk below the waves or had been washed out into the ocean.

The sea was choppy, and the depth gauge on the boat registered 72 feet. Garrick scratched his three-day-old beard and called for Marissa to come to the bridge. He had a feeling this was where the sub should head inshore but he wanted someone else’s opinion. If Marissa thought they should continue north and look for lesser damage along the Oregon sea coast, he might be talked into it.

She entered the bridge looking like she’d worked a full day with the people onboard. Most of them were people from the
Stennis
and before that the
Pride of America
and she was the senior crewperson left from the America.

“Have you seen this?” he asked, pointing to the shore.

“Yea, looks bad, but things aren’t getting better back there,” she said pointing over her shoulder. “People are on edge. They want to get off this sub and onto land and start looking for surviving family. I can’t say as I blame them.”

Garrick nodded. “Okay, Vasquez,” he said to the young man who looked much better after a day’s worth of sleep and two good meals. “Keep an eye on the depth level and see how far we can get inland before dark. Keep our speed slow and stop if we get into water shallower than 40 feet. I think I remember our draw being about 30 feet, but let’s give ourselves a margin of error.”

“Aye, captain,” Vasquez said over his shoulder and began turning the sub. Vasquez began calling him captain earlier in the afternoon and Garrick had been about to tell him to knock it off, but in reality, he was the captain. Someone had to be in charge and by default it was him.

Marissa left the bridge and came back with sandwiches for everyone working on the bridge. She’d found places on the boat for those not actually working on the bridge and had very politely moved them out of Garrick’s way. He had enough concerns without people on his bridge asking him questions he didn’t have answers to.

Garrick thanked her and all four on the bridge ate at their station as the boat moved inward toward land. It was slow going, but the submarine passed over the Golden Gate Bridge which had fallen into the bay. None of the towers had survived the earthquake and the deck was now underwater on the floor of the bay.

They sailed by Alcatraz Island and it look like it had been polished clean. Angel Island was the same. Any trees and buildings had been wiped away, leaving a dead island. The Richmond San Rafael Bridge was gone and Garrick ordered the sub to stop for the night in San Pablo Bay. He didn’t want to risk going further inland in the dark without more than just thermal and light amplification. He knew it was safe, but with everyone’s inexperience, he thought it would be better to get another eight hours of sleep before making landfall.

He called two of the seamen who had not been working through the afternoon and asked them to do nothing but look at things for six hours and make sure no civilians came to the bridge.

He retired to the captain’s quarters and found a change of clothes. He showered and shaved and put on clean underwear. He thought he would be sleeping alone tonight so crawled into bed and was immediately asleep.

He was roused, but not wakened when Marissa crawled into bed less than an hour later. She pushed him over and lay back-to-back to Garrick and he heard her whisper “good night” to him. He was too tired to even respond.

When Garrick awoke, Marissa was already in the shower so he put on the clean uniform Marissa had found for him. She’d also removed his CPO shoulder boards and replaced them with the four braids a captain wears. He didn’t know where she found them and he almost took them off, but they might help the crew’s morale for as long as it took them to find a place to disembark at which point, someone else could be a leader to these people.

Back on the bridge, Garrick saw it was light enough outside to begin moving again. Vasquez, who had become the default helmsman, put the sub in motion. It was touchy traversing the Carquinez Straight as they had to avoid the fallen bridges. After passing what the maps called Grizzly Bay, Garrick ordered Vasquez to keep to the left because the farther north the sub went, the damaged looked less and he was hoping there were some survivors from Sacramento.