Текст книги "Evacuation"

Автор книги: Phillip Tomasso

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Chapter Five

Spade reached the zombies headed for the Coast Guard first, just as shots sounded. The zombies dropped one by one. None made it to the vessel. None able to harm my kids, Allison, or Sues.

Spencer was on the boat, pulling them in. The river current bounced the vessel up and down. Splashes from the wake crashed over the dock.

We jumped over fallen zombies, ignoring the headshots; the thick black blood oozing from bullet hole sized shattered skulls.

“Second Humvee is up there,” Spade said. Spencer nodded. He turned and said something to a crewman.

The revving engine of the Humvee came from behind. As I set a shoe onto the craft, and as Spencer offered down a hand to hoist me up and over, I looked back. Once safely on the ship, I watched.

All the noise. Boats, Humvees, machine guns . . . zombies came from everywhere. Looking up, I saw still more on the bridge. Several climbed over the side and fell lifeless into the river. They wanted us to the point of plunging to a most certain death? They just kept . . . you couldn’t say jumped. It was clearly falling. They hated rain, but would water kill them? Could they swim?

I couldn’t look away. What started as a few, turned into several, and the further from the bridge we were, the more that went over. It was a wave of infected humans. They plunged into the icy river. It was both a sad and terrifying sight; one that was burned into my mind, a memory I would not be able to lose no matter how hard I tried.

The gunner up top on the Humvee climbed down and opened the back door. A soldier, two guys and a female got out. They looked like we must have just over an hour ago. Terrified. Wide-eyed. Breathless.

The driver and passenger in the military vehicle used their rifles to decimate zombies. None as accurate as Spade, but they killed creatures like there was no tomorrow. In our case, that might not be far from the truth.

There were seven of them, four military and what looked like three civilians, and they all ran for the small Coast Guard vessel. Allison stood next to me, and Cash was holding her hand. The two seemed to have bonded. Charlene stood in front of me, made a twitching motion, like if I didn’t have a hand on her shoulder, she might jump off the boat and run to assist in an attempt to help them reach us more quickly.

“Marfione,” Spade said. “Where are the others?”

“They didn’t make it,” Marfione said. “We didn’t get a radio transmission, but we found the Humvee. The bodies. Wasn’t zombies. Someone opened fire on them. It was a massacre. Must have caught them off guard. I don’t know what happened there. No idea.”

The civilians climbed onto the vessel first. Allison and I assisted as much as we could. I didn’t want to be in the way. Standing around and watching ate at my nerves. All I kept thinking about was Josh, Dave’s brother. He’d not been killed by zombies, but by someone with a rifle. Shot and killed for no good reason. It had been senseless. Violent and senseless. I wondered if the same person or group that had killed him was responsible for the attack on the third Humvee? Now was not the time.

When all four military personnel from the second Humvee were on board, Spencer shouted something to the crewman at the helm. The craft bounced and bobbed away from the dock just as a handful of zombies reached the slip.

A crewman with a gun took a few headshots. It didn’t deter them. They didn’t back away, or run off. At this point, it didn’t matter. We were in the water, moving north with the current of the Genesee.

I watched the bridge. All of the zombies pressed against the chest high wall had arms stretched out reaching for us. Fingers wiggled in jerky movements. Then they would be up on the wall and falling over. The splashes were big, but silent. The whine ringing from the Coast Guard’s engine drowned out any other sound.

Then I felt it. The sense washed over me. It was the first time in days, weeks, maybe. A total sense of relief. With help from friends, I’d found and rescued my kids and now . . .  was it finally safe to feel safe? The military was evacuating us from the area, bound to take us somewhere secure and protected. Life might not ever be the same, but all that kept running through my mind was that we’d made it.

We’d survived.

I knew I was smiling.

Dave looked at me, cocked his head to one side and was smiling, too. We shook hands. A quick hug.

“We’re going to be all right,” he said. “We’re going to be just fine.”

The tears shed felt bittersweet. Our journey cost lives. People, friends really, that won’t ever be forgotten. Ever. “Thank you, Dave, for everything.”

Cash latched onto my leg. I’m sure my flood of emotions confused him. I knelt down.

“Where are they going to take us?” he said.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, yet, but somewhere safe, you can be sure of that. We’re going to someplace away from all of these monsters.”

He bit his lower lip as if he was digesting my words. When he nodded and smiled, I realized it had finally sunk in for him, too.

When I stood up, Charlene took my hand. I loved it. I was surrounded by the people who meant the most to me.

“Come here,” I said to Allison. She was not to be left out. She was family.

Sues was silent, though, and looking past me.

I turned to see what held her attention. The three other civilians were huddled close, whispering. Maybe having a similar conversation. The two guys sat on either side of the female. They all sat bent forward with elbows on their knees.

The talking stopped when a female with the Coast Guard knelt between them. She set a medical bag down and opened it up. One of the guys, the white one, rolled up his sleeve. He did it slowly. The black guy in the group watched me.

I saw a bloody forearm and raw meat from a gaping, jagged gash.

The black guy and I locked eyes. He nodded. It was slight. Looked like a way to say, thank you for your concern, but we’re good here. Move along. There’s nothing more to see.

I turned away. Wasn’t my business.

Carrying blankets, Marfione walked past us. He handed them out. The black guy wrapped one around the woman’s shoulders, the white guy’s shoulders, and then did the same with the third for himself.

“You guys want some?” Marfione said. He talked to me. I noticed what was happening. I was addressed, because I was assumed to be in charge of my group of people. I hoped I was wrong, because I didn’t want it to be that way. Shouldn’t be that way. Just like with Dave and Josh–we’d all bond. Eventually.

We all declined. The air was cold. Crisp. It felt invigorating.

I saw the Coast Guard station. It had to be about a mile from the O’Rourke Bridge. We were close. Dare I think it, sanctuary?

“What happened to the Border Patrol people, the ones in the helicopter? Are they coming with us?” I said.

Marfione crossed his arms. I expected attitude, the way Spencer first treated us on the Humvee. Need to know basis and all of that. “They’re not coming with us. They’ve got a different assignment. More to do. They may meet up later. It’s been days. We’re still trying to assess everything,” he said.

“I can’t tell you how good it felt seeing them. When they spotted us,” I said.

Marfione just nodded. He understood. “You guys were lucky. We’re really not finding many people left. This whole thing, it’s kind of out of control. I don’t know how we’re supposed to fix it.”

Fix it. Hadn’t given it that much thought. Was there a way to come back from this? As a society?

“So, what’s the deal? I mean, where are we headed? We can’t be staying at the Coast Guard station. I’m guessing we’re going on a trip or something.”

“We are. Evacuating the area.”

“To somewhere safer?” Allison said. She laced her fingers with mine.

“For the most part. There’s an internment camp set up just outside of Fort Drum. State Park. Military occupied it. Secured the area,” he said.

“Internment camp?” Allison said.

“Relocation war camps,” he said. “Popular in World War II. Mostly along the opposite coast. We took Japanese-Americans, and locked them away,” he said. “Pretty much, they were guilty based on heritage. Couldn’t be trusted. Some were set up here. In New York and some down south.” It was said matter-of-fact. No prejudice in his tone of voice.

“Were they dangerous?”

“Doubt it,” he said, smiled. “You know Americans. Knee-jerk reactions become laws.”

“We have camps like that here in New York?”

“They’ve popped up quite-like all over the last few years. Have a lot of nervous politicians in office. Figure they might need a place to lock away hostile people at some point. Not sure if they had now in mind. They were thinking the places would be needed eventually, I guess. Amazing insight they have, don’t you think?” Marfione removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offered them up.

“I’d love one, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“I don’t. Savor it. Not sure when we’ll find a supply to replenish though, you know?”

I thanked him. “I’m Chase McKinney and this is Allison Little. We were–before all of this, well, we were dispatchers at nine-one-one.”

“Nice,” he said. “Can tell by the uniform shirts.”

Always hated the uniform shirts; baby blue itchy material, decorated in para-police collar brass, nameplate and pointless badge. Meant to change out of it at when I was at the apartment Changed the pants, but things had been too hectic. Had a backpack filled with clothing, but left it when we ran from the Humvee. Here I was, Allison, as well, still donned in work shirts, and she in those irritating navy blue pants.

“Lieutenant Marfione. Matthew Marfione. Friends just call me Marf,” he said. We shook hands. “Let me go check with Spencer to see what’s what. But hey, do me a favor? Guys I just brought in, they’re pretty shaken up. If you can welcome them some, might make a world of difference.”

“We’ll do that, sir,” I said.

“Just Marf. And thank you. I mean it. Whatever’s going on, this world is a worse place than it once was, if you can believe that. Ranks and shit, it don’t mean much anymore. We’ve got to be more concerned about being humans, helping each other. The times, they demand it.” He walked past us.

I stared at my cigarette. I had no way to light it. The lake spray was going to ruin it. If I stuffed it in my pocket, I’d crush it. Regardless, I tucked it behind an ear. It would have to keep. “Want to come with me?” I said.

“You want to go over now?” Allison said.

“He’s right,” I nodded toward Marf. “Why wait?”

Before we could head over, we started to dock alongside a larger craft. The Coast Guard crew on our vessel yelled to the crewman on the other vessel. Lines were tossed and our ships were drawn together.

“Okay, everyone,” Spencer said. “We’re going to move from this boat to the other. One at a time. Coast Guard’s going to assist. You’ll get a life vest once on board. Put it on immediately. Secure it. If you need assistance, Coast Guard will help.”

“Guess it will have to wait,” I said.

The Coast Guard station was a large, old white house with a red roof. A plaque hung above the front door that read: Guardians of the Great Lakes.

“Supplies are loaded,” someone shouted. “Let’s get everyone onto this ship.”

Thunder boomed above us. Through thick grey clouds, I saw a crack of lightning slice the sky.

Chapter Six

1432 hours

The larger Coast Guard vessel was a 47 Motor Life Boat, which carried thirty-eight people and four crewmen safely. We had nine civilians, seven military, and eight Coast Guard crewmen on board. Twenty-four in all.

Cedar Point State Park was up the St. Lawrence. With the weather getting worse, we were informed we’d be traveling at roughly twenty to twenty-two knots.

The Captain of the Coast Guard station explained all of this. He was still talking. I zoned in and out, trying to mostly pay attention. I just wasn’t in much of a mood for a lecture about a boat.

He wore his full get-up. Guess he didn’t look at ranks being nonexistent the way Marf did. Different branches. Guess I could expect as much.

“Even if this thing rolls over, it’s designed to right itself,” Captain Travis Keel said. “And we’ve done it, during training. Tipped her and rolled her. Not here. Not on this lake. Swells never get that big here. Seven feet was the biggest we’ve had on Ontario, best I can recall. So you don’t have to ask. It works. The life jackets, purely precautionary.”

His smile, his laugh–they did little to settle my stomach. The jackets were like ones found on an airplane. Deflated. Pull on the cord, and they inflate. Not sure how big the waves were, but it felt worse below deck.

“We have roughly a five hour voyage ahead. Storm’s going to follow us the whole way. We’re going to try and stay outside of it, but that will only add time. We’re safe. Just isn’t going to be the smoothest ride. Regardless, we’re safe here. The bunks aren’t comfy, but the sheets are clean. I suggest you take advantage of the time and get some rest.”

“Thank you, Captain,” one of the men from the second Humvee said.

When the Captain went up top, the rest of us stared at the steps as if we expected someone else to come down.

I took a deep breath, remembering what Lt. Marfione had said. “Before we choose bunks,” I said, “I want to introduce myself. I’m Chase. My son, Cash, daughter Charlene, and this is my girlfriend. Allison.”

“I’m Dave. Dave Rivera, and this is Sues Melia.”

The man who’d thanked the Captain stood up. “My name is Tim Chatterton.” He had to be about twenty-seven, at least 6’2”. He was dark-skinned with a shaved bald head and a thick beard with no mustache.

We all shook hands.

“Were you two cops?” Chatterton said.

“Worked at nine-one-one. Dispatchers,” Allison said. Worked, she’d said. She understood the gravity of the situation. My shoulders fell. Only had a white t-shirt on underneath or I’d lose the shirt.

The second man waved. “I’m Nicholas Dentino. Nick,” he said. Physically fit, also in his early to mid-twenties and resembled a model who posed for clothing ads in magazines. Short dark hair, set jaw and hazel colored eyes.

I waved back. Shouldn’t hold it against him, but if he wasn’t going to make an effort to shake hands, neither was I. “How’s the arm?” I said.

“Healing, hopefully,” he said, and snickered. Sounded like he was all right, but to look at him, I’d say he was scared. Guess we all were. No shame in that.

“I’m Crystal Sutton,” the woman said. Her shoulder length brown hair was pulled back tight in a ponytail. She had white skin that clearly revealed that she had not spent the summer bathing in sunlight.

With introductions out of the way, an awkward silence ensued. The idea of getting sleep was attractive. Being able to sleep, as the ship tossed back and forth might prove difficult. Part of me wanted to talk and hear their story.

I wasn’t as interested in sharing mine, though. Talking was funny that way. Supposed to be give and take. People clam up if it’s too lopsided. I call it being cautious.

“You guys know where we’re headed?” Chatterton said.

I shook my head. I watched Dentino. He didn’t look well. The boat rose and fell on the swells. Might not be as high as seven feet, but they felt huge just the same. “Was told an internment camp. Somewhere in New York.”

“By boat? Where could that be?” Crystal said.

“Up the St. Lawrence,” I said.

My son yawned.

Hard not to feel like the last nine people who’d been found alive in Rochester? Could we have been it? Was Border Patrol flying around searching for more survivors? Even if they came across some, what then? The Coast Guard station was empty. No crew was left there, and we were cruising on the biggest of their boats.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” Chatterton said. He stretched; arms went wide.

“Good call,” I said. “Maybe we can talk some more once we get to the camp.”

The other three silently nodded, trying to make it look like that would be a great idea. I wasn’t buying it though. Not sure why, but they made me uneasy. Might be the way I kept catching Chatterton eyeballing me. Felt like more than a size-up, a once over. The look seemed filled with disdain and I didn’t like it.

The bunks were made for one person, if that. Conserving space had been the intent of the thin design. Cash climbed onto one. He patted the mattress. “Sleep here,” he said.

I sat beside him. “Want me to lie down with you?”

“Yes,” he said.

Charlene gave me a look. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Know what?” I said. “I bet the three of us can fit.”

It excluded Allison. Four of us would never fit. No way.

Sues and Dave took one bunk. Spooned. Dave hugged the silent woman tightly. If I needed to find out more about anyone, it was her. She was with our . . . group, if you wanted to think of us in terms of them and us. I knew very little about her or her story. There just hadn’t been time.

“You guys get in, give me a minute,” I said.

“Gonna tuck me in?” Allison said. She smiled.

“You okay?”

“Of course, I am. I’ll let it go tonight. You sleep with them. Tomorrow we find a king size bed. You on one side, me on the other, with them sandwiched between us.” She mashed her hands together.

Now, I smiled. “Love the idea.”

She pulled back the sheets, lay down and pursed her lips.

“What?” I said.

“Can you sneak me a kiss?”

“I can do that,” I said, and kissed her.

“Are we going to be okay now? Is the worst over?”

“I want to say, yes,” I said.

“But you don’t know.”

“No. I don’t know. We’re all together. It’s a start, you know. It all seems to be going in a better direction.”

She touched my face, forehead, and stared into my eyes. “Go get some sleep. Hug your kids.”

“Good night,” I said. I knew it was barely 3:00 PM, but I felt exhausted.

I laid down on my back with a kid on either side, their heads and a hand on my chest.

The boat bounced and rocked. Thunder echoed down here like cannons firing. The aluminum must act like an amplifier or something. There was no room on the bunk to move even a fraction of an inch. To make matters worse, I never sleep on my back.

Regardless, I closed my eyes and must have fallen asleep immediately.

#  #  #

Maybe it was the silence that woke me. My eyes opened. It was dark. Took me a moment to remember where I was. Where we were. In the belly of a large ship on Lake Ontario headed for the St. Lawrence. I couldn’t have moved if I wanted. Kids were still asleep, using my chest their pillow.

As I was about to close my eyes, trying to grab a bit more sleep, I heard it. A whisper. Someone talking softly, anyway. I recognized the voice, deep, with a little gravel to it. All bass. “It’s all I’m saying. Something about all of this, it doesn’t add up.”

“But what do you mean?” Had to be Nicholas Dentino.

“The flu shots, the ones everyone’s been pushing about that swine flu, the H7N9, right? You go into any corner store pharmacy, any doctors’ office, they want to give you the shot, right? I was in the military. Joined after high school. We had to get vaccinated for everything. And if we went overseas, there were like three-hundred more shots we needed,” Chatterton said.

“Okay, so?” It was the female, Crystal Sutton. I barely heard her.

“So, if the virus that is turning everyone into zombies was in those shots, how come these military and coast guard guys don’t have it? How come they’re not zombies,” he said.

“Because they would have been vaccinated,” Dentino said.

“Exactly. No way around it.”

I remembered the 9-1-1 call I’d taken. The professor or doctor who claimed responsibility for the mess we were now in. He’d kept rambling on and on about a contamination.

Was the outbreak more limited than first expected?

I’d seen the news. Heard reports. The nation’s capitol was in shambles.

A contaminated batch would not infect the entire country.

That meant one of two, no, three things. Either more than a single batch had been contaminated–possible and likely, and biting or scratching did spread the disease. Or both.

The kid we’d found in the woods by the grocery store, Jay, had been bitten, but he hadn’t turned into a zombie. He’d been killed by one. Torn to shreds. Had he been torn to shreds before there had been time for him actually to turn? How long did it take to turn, if in fact people did turn after getting bitten by one of the zombies? With Jay, we didn’t really give time for change. We’d buried him.

That changed everything. I’d been taking solace, granted just some solace, in the idea that the virus wouldn’t spread. That bites were bites. They’d hurt, but heal. Now, I didn’t know what to think.

Chatterton was right.

Something did not make sense. Regardless of the spreading, why were these military folks not infected, not walking dead? Could they have been immune to the virus, the vaccination? Or could it be something as simple as they just hadn’t been vaccinated against the swine flu yet? Maybe there’d be answers once we reached the internment camp.

“I think, if we get a chance, we should run,” Chatterton said.

“And them?” Sutton said.

“Guy’s got kids. Nothing against him, but that makes the lot a liability, not an asset. No, we keep this to ourselves. Did you see how those things hate the rain and the way they were falling into the river? I’m going to find me an island. A hideaway. You two think about it. Better the three of us on an island together, than locked away in some concentration camp. Don’t take too long though. I’m just telling you. Me? I see a chance, I’m out.”

There was no falling back to sleep. I felt the heat in my cheeks. If they looked at me, they’d know I was awake, and that I’d heard the entire whispered conversation.

So, my kids and I were a liability, huh? We’d have to see about that, wouldn’t we?

Thoughts of sanctuary sank. Nothing was over. If anything, it all just began.