“So what’s the plan once we get to Gulf Shores, Skipper?” Hoffman asked once they were alone again.
“We link up with that National Guard MP Captain that’s been tearing up the radio and hand over this spare ammo. Then we hightail it back here to Dauphin Eye and hole up with the Senior Chief and his crew until this thing dies down or we get new orders,” Jarvis explained.
“What did the SAR station’s sparky say was going on in Gulf Shores?” Hoffman asked. He had not been privy to the conversation that Jarvis and the Senior Chief had dwelled on over the base’s radio suite.
“They are an MP unit that has been conducting ops in the town over there and they are risking being overrun by rioters. They never got their ammo draw and are sitting around trying to put this thing down over there with only their bad breath,” Jarvis said.
“Glad to know our command structure is working better than the Army’s, I guess,” Hoffman laughed in dark humor.
“The MPs over there have a bunch of M240-Bravos and no 7.62 to feed them with, so we are bringing them what the Senior Chief felt he could spare. We’ll hold on to most of the 9 and 5.56 for our own locker,” Jarvis said.
“What did Sector say about giving away USCG ammo to the boys in green?” Hoffman asked.
“We still can’t reach Mobile. I called the Situation Unit, the OOD and the Operations unit from the station’s satellite phone and no one picked up. We finally made contact with New Orleans and they strongly cautioned us against it, but advised it was our call. The MPs at Gulf Shores say they are going to be wiped out without any ammo,” Jarvis said.
“So, short story long, here we are again headed to Gulf Shores. Shit, maybe I can grab a Bushwhacker before we head back to D-Eye,” Hoffman grinned through his moustache.
The Cook popped his head up into the bridge from his hatch below. “Sir, you should see this,” the Cook said with a grim look plastered across his face.
Jarvis left his spot on the bridge and descended the ladder into the galley below. The three members of the engineering crew and the ship’s Bosun were crowded around the flat screen on the wall. On the screen was a talking head that Jarvis vaguely recognized as being an obscure member of the Senate whose name eluded him. Behind the Senator on the monitor was a generic framed copy of the Declaration of Independence and an Air Force seal.
“In this, my first address to the American Public, I have a heavy heart. Many of you have heard me speak before; this is the first time I do it as your President,” the man on the television said with a somber face and heavy baritone voice.
“First of all, I need to state that all US forces at home and abroad are to continue to follow their orders and remain in allegiance to the Constitution of the United States of America. I hereby order immediate activation of the National Unorganized Militia. This group of men, created by the Militia Act of 1903, consists of every able-bodied male citizen of at least 17 and under 45 years of age who are not already members of the National Guard or regular military or reserve. The Retired Reserve, consisting of all members of the United States Military forces that have honorably retired, is likewise recalled. Please report to your local military authority for immediate assignment,” he continued.
“My fellow Americans, you should know that currently, a state of war exists between the US, and her NATO and Pacific allies against Russia, China, and North Korea. It is not known if the current epidemic that has attacked our great country is the product of this evil alliance— but that possibility has not been ruled out. What is known is that an exchange of various acts of war have been both witnessed and endured across our mutual continents.
“I began my career in public service 37 years ago and never sought or even dreamed that one day I would be President of our great land. To have come to such a post during this crisis in our history is a profound and heavy burden. While I cannot begin to tell you why this current crisis is happening, I can tell you that help is on the way. Until that help arrives, please help your family, help your neighbor, and help your community. The American way of life and our culture, heritage and heart will persevere in this time of crisis as it has in every other.
“I am humbly at your service and I will never waiver from fulfilling the duties of this office. May God bless you and keep you, and may his provenance shine down upon you and upon the United States of America,” the new President said. His face faded away to blue screen, which displayed the written text of the speech that had just aired.
Jarvis looked at the half of his crew assembled in the galley and tried to formulate his thoughts.
“I think what he is saying that the government is there, but only to wish you the best of luck…” Hoffman said, breaking the silence.
— | — | —
ChapteR 14
Mackenzie played on her phone while Wyatt slept. After an hour had passed with no activity, the boy had leaned his head back against the wall and fell asleep. Mackenzie tried everything she could think of to get her phone working again. She took the phone apart, reset the battery, turned the radio signal off and on, and dumped her cache. She just needed five minutes of good signal to get in contact with the police, or if nothing else, at least find out what was going on in the world outside of the tiny bank branch.
She tried once more to make a call, only to receive a busy signal. In one last attempt to reach out, she opened the Facebook app on her phone and noticed that her inbox icon had mail for the first time all day. With her face red with excitement, and her eyes going slightly off focus from the adrenaline infusion, she clicked on the inbox.
There were three messages. Two were random junk mail admin messages apologizing for obvious nationwide network and system outages. The third was from her mother in Texas.
“I’ve tried reaching you all day but all the lines are busy. Phil and I were assaulted trying to get to the airport and are at the hospital now. He is sick and they think he may have been infected. They say it is something called Disease-K. One of them bit me but I think I am ok. So far, all I have is a terrible migraine and body aches. I hope things are better in Alabama than they are here.
“Dallas has been without power all morning and there are people in the streets. The National Guard is here now so maybe things will get better before tonight.”
Mackenzie put her phone down on the counter and willed herself to stop playing with it.
— | — | —
ChapteR 15
“Guess you are a good guy to have around in a tight spot, but we gotta stop meeting like this,” Stone said to Billy while the two stood at the reopened Community Center door with Sergeant Durham.
“I agree a hundred percent,” Billy said.
The three men looked out across the town green at the surreal sight they encountered. Nearly fifty bodies were scattered akimbo around them.
The bodies of the infected were easy to tell apart from those who were not. Most of the infected had been shot in the open as they ran towards possible victims. Their poor victims were, almost without exception, against the walls of the surrounding buildings where they were trapped. The victims were horribly kicked, torn, strangled, and ripped to death by the bare hands of their attackers. Billy saw random people stop and take a picture of the unreal diorama with their phones, as if to make sure that it was real and not a dream.
“It looks like it started in the jail with a couple of infected inmates. The poor bastards locked up with them didn’t stand a chance,” Stone explained.
“We lost half of what’s left of the department in there. There are many more infected bodies in there than there are out here,” Durham said.
“Do I need to make a statement about this?” Billy asked Durham, motioning to the body of the inmate he had shot in the face, as it was drug from the Community Center by a pair of MPs.
“I’m sure someone will talk to you about that but I wouldn’t imagine, under the circumstances, anything will come of it,” Durham said.
“There really wasn’t any other choice. I told him to stop but he just wouldn’t,” Billy said.
Stone nodded, “Did you have that .38 on you the whole time we were at the school this morning?”
“Yeah, it’s been a hell of a day,” Billy confirmed.
“Well, from the sound of the situation, it’s a good deal you had it with you. If those zombies had gotten inside that Center we might not have been able to contain the outbreak,” Stone said.
“Zombies, huh?” Billy asked.
“That’s what all the troops are calling them. It seems somewhat appropriate. We’ve already noticed that it takes headshots to drop them. They’ll keep coming at you all day until you give them a little love to the dome,” Stone said.
The infected seemed to be the ultimate catalyst for change.
From what Billy had seen, they were nothing but unlocked self-driven carnal desire. The ultimate psychopaths. They killed, raped, maimed, and ate every living thing they could get their hands on. They were relentless dead flesh with occasional synaptic flash to kill, to break, to fuck, to burn.
In short, they are the anti-human. They are everything that had ever been thought of to be human— but in reverse.
“Next thing you know they’ll wind up making a movie out of this,” said Durham.
“I want Charlie Sheen to play me in the movie,” Spud yelled from his chair propped next to the Community Center door. The heavy metal chair had actually saved his life during the massacre in the town green. He had fallen on his back and used the chair as a shield to keep the infected attackers off him.
“You know, Spud, you may very well be the last living inmate in the Gulf Shores jail right now,” Durham said over his shoulder.
“And I’m still suing the piss out of all of you!” Spud yelled.
“Get in line. The only line I have longer than people trying to kill me lately is people trying to sue me,” Durham said.
“So can I at least get unlocked from this damned chair?” Spud whined.
“I’ll see what I can do, Spud, just sit tight,” Durham said and laughed.
Stone gestured at the police department, “Isn’t that the police chief over there by the wall? The one with the shotgun lying next to him?”
“Yes, that’s him. Dead as a doornail. And the deputy chief is inside the station with his throat ripped out,” Durham said.
“So who does that leave next in the chain of command for the department, Sergeant? You?” asked Stone.
“Not me, I’m just the senior guy that they can reach,” Durham said.
A small Nissan pickup truck careened down the road in front of the Community Center and came to a halt about five feet from the group. A brick-shaped older man in his fifties with the illusion of close-cropped hair on the sides of his head stepped out. He wore the same camouflaged uniform as the Captain with the exception of a set of six black sergeant stripes, three up, and three down with a black diamond in the center on his chest rank tab.
“Glad of you to finally join us, Top,” Stone said to the newly arrived older man who walked up to the group in two smooth strides before putting on his camouflaged cap and saluting.
“Decided to stop for coffee and pie, sir,” the newly arrived soldier stated. His voice had the quality of gravel ground in an industrial blender full of sand. He ran his words together in some sort of mashed grumble as if he was projecting his voice through clenched teeth.
“This here is First Sergeant Reid, the Road Dog’s senior NCO. Top, this is Sergeant Durham of what’s left of the Gulf Shores PD and Mr. Harris, a local firefighter turned fisherman and recent gunslinger.”
Everyone nodded at one another.
“How is Daphne, Top?” Stone asked.
“It’s a madhouse; crowds of people trying to get out of Mobile coming in from the west, crowds of people leaving Pensacola coming in from the east. I loaded Jenny in the truck as soon as I could get away from the prison and left this morning for here. It took me the past six hours to get the 40-miles down 59 to here. I just dropped her at the armory and they said you were here, so now I am too, sir.”
“We are glad to have you, Top. As you can see it’s gone a little pear-shaped around here,” Stone said.
“What’s the plan, sir?” Reid asked. A good two-inch wad of tobacco snuff was plugged in his bottom lip like worm dirt. Billy noticed that he had not seen the man spit yet.
“Did you see any infected along the highway from Daphne to here?” Stone asked.
“Yes, sir, we had to divert around them. Seen some pretty fucked up stuff but just kept driving. Didn’t look like anything I could handle myself, especially with Jenny in the car. We’re in for a world of hurt when and if they decide to come down the highway.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. We cannot take the chance of any more infected making their way here. We have to quarantine the island. We may have enough boots on the ground to take care of what we have here already, but if we don’t isolate the island it won’t make any difference,” Stone said.
“The Perdido Bridge was knocked out by a barge this morning so if we can shut down the Holmes Bridge over the ICW, then we should be pretty much contained,” Durham said.