To Sail a Darkling Sea - eARC (16 page)

CHAPTER 11

The Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part;

But the Sons of Martha favour their Mother of the careful soul and the troubled heart.

And because she lost her temper once, and because she was rude to the Lord her Guest,

Her Sons must wait upon Mary’s Sons, world without end, reprieve, or rest.

It is their care in all the ages to take the buffet and cushion the shock.

It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.

It is their care that the wheels run truly; it is their care to embark and entrain,

Tally, transport, and deliver duly the Sons of Mary by land and main.

Kipling
“The Sons of Martha”

“Bloody hell,” Faith said. She had gone through a decon shower in full kit then a “real” shower and now was collapsed in the saloon of the
Senorita
as were the rest of the clearance team. “I’d started to forget what a real fight was like.”

Night was falling on the port of Santa Cruz De La Tenerife and the last sunlight reflected a brilliant salmon off of snow-capped Teide mountain in the distance. Calling sea birds circled the boats moored in the main channel, squawking over bits of what had been human beings and were now shark torn offal.

There had been infected around the cruise ships. All three. Lots of infected. Stores had been laid in at the embarkation ports and the infected had been feeding on those as well as each other. Water should have been problematic but zombies would drink anything and most of them even survived it. There were puddles of rainwater on the dock. No rational human being would drink from them but zombies weren’t rational.

“You guys used up quite a bit of our fresh water,” Sophia noted. “We’re going to have to find a source of resupply.”

“Get some from the tender,” Faith said. “We’re going to be taking lots of showers.”

“It’s going to need your support getting containers,” Sophia said.

“And that’s for tomorrow,” Faith said. “We didn’t have any real problem with infiltration from the main city, today, but we still need to get the pier blocked off. I’ll get with the captain of the tender. We’ll need to… ” She stopped and held her head. “I know I was going somewhere with that.”

“I’ve got food coming up,” Paula said. “You probably just need blood sugar.”

“As soon as I get food in my stomach, I’m going to collapse,” Faith said. “I know I was going somewhere… ”

“Get with the captain of the tender, ma’am,” Januscheitis said.

“Oh,” Faith said. “We’ll need to try to get any containers that are well down on piers. These piers are so long there isn’t much in the way of infected infiltration from the city. So… ” She stopped again.

“There’s a commercial port on the other side,” Sophia said. “You should be able to get some from there.”

“Right, saw that,” Faith said. “The ship we should look for embarkation ports on the outboard side. If we can get them open we can extract into the harbor rather than onto the pier. I’d like to just get the embarkation ports pierside up and closed. That will prevent the problem of infiltration… Am I making any sense?”

“Plenty, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “We’ll take care of the equipment.”

“Equipment,” Faith said. “I knew I was forgetting something… ”

“That’s what NCO’s are for, ma’am,” Derek said.

“We’ll need to get the
Boadicea
up here for survivors… ” Faith said.

“And that’s above your paygrade, ma’am,” Januscheitis said.

“It is?” Faith said.

“That would be Lieutenant Chen’s call or Squadron,” Januscheitis said. “You don’t have to worry about that level of support.”

“Oh,” Faith said.

“Think about how we’re going to clear off infected so we can get some containers tomorrow, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “I’ll make sure all the gear and men are ready to rock and roll. And, really, you don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow because we haven’t seen what we’ve got to do, yet. It may be dead simple, it may be nearly impossible. We’ll get it done. But you don’t have to really worry about it until tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Faith said. “Are you sure?”

“At this point, there would normally be an after action report to write,” Januscheitis said. “I’ll write up the draft and you can read it tomorrow morning and correct it as you see fit.”

“No,” Faith said. “I’ll write it up tonight. You’ll be handling the equipment. I’ll get you to check it.”

“I thought you were going to crash,” Sophia said as Paula served dinner.

“Mission, men, me,” Faith said, picking up her fork. “Get some food in me and I’ll be good to go… ”

* * *

“Passed out like a light,” Januscheitis said, quietly.

“I thought she was going to fall asleep in her plate,” Derek said, just as quietly. “We going to try to haul her to her bunk?”

“No,” Januscheitis said. “Just do everything real quiet.”

* * *

“Ugh,” Faith said, sitting up and wiping drool off her chin. “I hate it when I do that. How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Januscheitis said. He had her AK stripped down and was carefully oiling it. Using weapons around salt water meant having to keep them oiled to a fare-thee-well. “About twenty minutes.”

“Power nap,” Faith said. “Okay, Paula, you can stop trying to do the dishes quietly.”

“It’s Patrick,” Patrick called. “Sorry about that. Banged a pot.”

“Okay, some razzleberry tea and I’ll be a report writing machine,” Faith said fuzzily, pushing herself to her feet. “Where’s some razzleberry… ?”

* * *

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to write this… ” Januscheitis said, pulling Faith up from where she was passed out on the computer keyboard. “ ‘.
.
.
it was, like,
awesome
.
.
.’ is not going to pass review.”

“Wazzat?” Faith said.

“We’re going to have to talk about report writing language, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, getting the lieutenant to her feet. “Tomorrow. Off to racksies, Skipper… ”

* * *

“Okay,” Faith said, consulting her note pad. A ten hour “nap,” breakfast, some apple juice and she was ready to rock and roll. “Day objectives: Clear zone around containers of infected so the supply ship can pick them up. Block the quay with containers. Begin Clearance of the supermax liner. Find a dress for the Marine Corps B… Oh, wait, that’s a personal objective… ”

* * *

“Anybody got a plan?” Lieutenant Chen said. “Cause I’m thinking this is a bust.”

The commercial port of Santa Cruz De La Tenerife had been a bustling center for the transshipment of cargo. The island had to import basically everything except food, and it imported a good bit of that. And the commercial port was set up to support it. It had a long breakwater which was also used as a “tie-up” for ships awaiting transshipment or were doing minor repairs, a fuel transfer point, one of two on the island, and a main cargo transfer point with two massive cargo handling cranes colloquially called “AT-ATs” for their resemblance to the Imperial “tanks” in the Star Wars movies. There were two freighters tied up alongside, half unloaded.

Alas, it also had the usual infected roaming around. Quite a few.

“I don’t know exactly how this stuff works,” Faith said. “But there’s a cargo handling crane on that freighter. Can we use that?”

“If we can get it into operation,” Captain Jesse Walker said, rubbing his bald head. The master mariner, formerly a freighter captain, was clearly unhappy with the mission. “Then there’s all them zombies.”

“They’re in the cargo yard,” Faith said. “We board the boat and clear. There’s a personnel gangway but it’s narrow. We hold that point while your crew offloads the cargo containers onto your ship. Then we pull back and board the
Senorita
. Your crew moves to the
Senorita
for boarding. You only come alongside when the cargo is ready to move. And if it gets too hot, we pull back, reboard the
Senorita
and come up with a better plan.”

“That… might work,” Lieutenant Chen said. “I’d like a back-up plan other than your usual, Lieutenant.”

“Help if we had some claymores, Lieutenant,” Januscheitis said, scratching his chin. “I’m not sure if it’s a back-up plan, but we’re going to want to carry one of the MGs. We’ll set that up on the boarding gangway to increase our firepower. Between that, and the LT’s Saiga and our Barbie guns we can hold any gangway.”

“And on the retreat?” Chen asked. “I’m more worried about how you’re going to break contact.”

“Which is why I wished we had some claymores, Lieutenant,” Januscheitis said.

“Oh, here’s a better idea,” Faith said. “Can you cut away a gangway? From the ship side?”

“Not easily without a crane,” Walker said. “But you can do it.”

“Without the gangway, they’re not boarding,” Faith said. “How do you do it?”

“It ain’t complicated,” Walker said. “But… it’s complicated.”

“Got anybody who’ll board to take off the gangway in a firefight, sir?” Januscheitis asked.

“Hey, Greg!”

* * *

“This is just about a dumb fuck idea,” Greg Dougherty said.

The tall, lanky seaman and maintenance engineer had the look of having once been heavier. He’d apparently found a blue coverall from slops, recovered salvage clothing that was washed and piled in sizes on the recovery ships, and it still didn’t fit right. Not to mention it had some stains that weren’t grease. He’d been “loaned” a 1911 by the Marines and told “don’t draw it unless you absolutely have to.” But he was there on the
Senorita
, ready to board with his toolbag.

“We’ll come alongside,” Sophia said. She had her H&K in a holster and her AK by the seat on the flying bridge. Just in case. “Let Paula and Patrick put up the grapnels. Then get your boarding ladder set, board, and we’ll standby in case you have to book it.”

“I’ll need a line to get this up,” Dougherty said, hefting his toolbag. “And I can throw a grapnel pretty well.”

“You go up with a safety line attached,” Sophia said.

“If you go in the drink, they try to reel you in before the sharks get you,” Januscheitis said, drily.

“You’ll be going up last. Just use that.”

“This is gonna be so much fun,” Dougherty said.

“Patrick, Paula, you set?” Sophia yelled.

“Arrr, we’re all set to grapnel this prize, cap’n!” Patrick said. They already had large “beach ball” or “balloon” fenders set over the side of the yacht to keep it from slamming into the side of the freighter.

“And we’re coming alongside,” Sophia said, lining up to the freighter and letting the wind take her in the last few feet.

Paula was forward with the grapnel and Patrick to the rear. They both made expert tosses to the bulwark railing of the freighter then pulled the yacht alongside with the help of the junior Marines.

“I don’t see a welcoming party,” Faith said. The flying bridge of the
Bella Senorita
was nearly at the level of the cargo deck of the small freighter. “Generally we have customers by this point.”

Paula threw up the grapnel to set the boarding ladder then Kirby and Pagliaro pulled in on the running end of the doubled line. The ladder reeled up the side of the ship, the rubber “feet” making hardly a clatter, until it connected to the lock-point at the top. A heave and the ladder was solidly in place.

Pagliaro clipped on his safety line and took point. He was wearing “light” combat gear, zombie apocalypse style, basic load-out for an assault with the addition of a gas mask and hood. This wasn’t a mission where, hopefully, they were going to need “full load out” zombie fighting gear. He also had two boxes of MG240, 7.62x51 NATO ammo strapped to the back of his kit.

“Time to go,” Faith said. “Hold the fort here, sister dear.”

“Will do,” Sophia said. “Do not get in a scrum, Faith.”

“No way in hell dressed like this,” Faith said.

Faith and Januscheitis followed Kirby up then took defensive positions while Derek and Bearson manhandled the MG240 over the side. They weren’t sure they were going to need it, but if they did they were
really
going to need it.

The ship’s deck was half filled with cargo containers with narrow passages alongside them.

“We’ll hang here while you guys sweep,” Januscheitis said. “Try to keep the noise down.”

“Will do,” Derek said. “Come on, Bear.”

“Kirby, on me,” Pagliaro said.

“I don’t like this,” Faith said, making a moue. “I should be clearing.”

“We’re here as a back-up and to manage, Lieutenant,” Januscheitis said.

“I know my job, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “Doesn’t mean I
like
it.”

There was a burst of 5.56 fire from forward.

“One clear,”
Derek radioed.
“Presence so far is limited.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t bring them up the gangway,” Januscheitis said.

The two plans they’d discussed had been “find the gangway, set up the defense point, then sweep” or ”sweep, then find the gangway. ” Sweep then find the gangway gave them the option of retreating to the boat if there were too many infected aboard. If they penetrated across the boat, they risked getting cut off and surrounded. So they went with the, hopefully, sensible plan.

There were two shots from .45, aft and from what sounded like the far side of the boat.

“Clear up to the bridge,”
Pagliaro radioed.
“But that’s got some of the infected over-side interested. I… Yeah, guy’s heading up the gangway.”

“That cuts it,” Faith said, picking up two boxes of ammo. “Hold the gangway,” she radioed. “We’re on our way. You gonna pick up the machine gun, Staff Sergeant, or just stand there?”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Januscheitis said as there was another burst of fire from aft.

“Better hurry, they’re starting the party.”

* * *

Faith dropped a box of ammo and fired offhand into an infected that had reared up out of the shadows. The few infected who had found hidey-holes on the deck of the ship were moving to the continuous crackle of fire from aft.

“Leavin’ that,” Faith said, keeping her side-arm in her hand.