02 Flotilla of the Dead (34 page)

“Carl?” said Chuck as he approached.  “I’m still not comfortable leaving the refinery completely abandoned.  Maybe I should stay to keep the sprinklers running.  You might have to turn around and come back here, if it gets too bad out there.”

“I’ve thought about it, Chuck,” replied Carl.  “There’s at least 72 hours of fuel for the pumps running the sprinklers and weeks for the emergency generator.  If the Flotilla wants to keep the refinery secure, and I agree it would be foolish not to, they can send some of us back by helicopter.  We know they have some of those.  But I don’t want to leave anyone here, Chuck.  We may need you on the road.”

Chuck nodded, smiled, and walked over to join the mechanic in the utility truck.  He carried a shotgun, pockets stuffed with a combination of 12 gauge buckshot and slugs, with a large hammer hanging from his tool belt.  Chuck was a ‘Good’ol Boy’ and Carl felt a lot better with him watching his back, as well as that of the convoy.

They were ready to leave before eight o’clock and dozens of engines rumbled to life.  Every vehicle had at least one radio now.  The clearing and escort groups all had radios on the refinery frequency.  Carl and the fire trucks also had fire department radios.  At least one person in each vehicle also had a handheld camping radio set to a common channel which was only to be used to give warnings or instructions to the whole convoy.    Carl used it now to say, “Let’s roll, people.  Keep your intervals.  We’ll try to cruise at 25 to 30 miles per hour, but be prepared for frequent stops once we get past the cleared areas.  Use this radio to report zombie attacks and identify yourself by vehicle number.  Don’t panic if they climb on your vehicle.  We’ll wash them off you as soon as we get moving again.  Now buckle up and follow me.”

Despite the number of zombies slaughtered during the last trip to Big 5, several hundred at least, there were still thousands of them surrounding the refinery.  The convoy rolled out the gate and turned south on Sepulveda while the Panther drove the horde back with its water cannon and the Cat  crushed through those that fell in its path.  Carl pulled over next o the fence, where the sprinklers provided a clear space, and watched as the rest of the rolled by.  The zombies were clearly agitated and tried to close in the RVs as they rolled by.  Many were knocked aside or even run-over, but Carl noticed that a few were able to grab onto something and cling to the vehicles.   They would either fall off or get washed off down the road.  As the end of the convoy left the gate Carl pulled the Suburban out from under the sprinklers and/ sliced through zombies.  He accelerated into the fast lane and turned to drive up the line of the convoy.  His passage devastated the zombies pressing towards the buses and RVs, opening a swath of destruction between the convoy and the encroaching horde.  The white SUV was drenched in blood by the time it broke through the last of the crowd.  Carl continued up the line until he caught up to the Panther which washed the Suburban with a brief wide-angle blast of its water cannon. 

“That was exciting,” said Karen Blade.  Gus had volunteered to drive the second bus, so Carl had to choose someone to ride shotgun with him.  He thought they made a good team and she had done a great job on their last little drive.  “And gross too,” she continued.  “You know, I was looking behind us to see how well we cleared them away from the RVs and I noticed something.”

“Do tell,” Carl commented as he caught up to the big Cat and fell in behind it.  Only a few zombies were in the road after they passed the intersection with Park Lane, but they were expecting the first traffic jam at Rosecrans. 

 “Well, as the zombies pressed back towards the convoy after we went by, some of them stopped to eat.”

“Eat what?” Carl asked curiously. 

“Brains,” said Karen with a smile.  “It looked like they only stopped at bodies that had their heads smashed or cut off.”

“They eat the brains of other zombies?” Carl pondered.  “That might be important.  I’m glad you told me.  Anything that distracts them could be useful.”  Their conversation was interrupted by Carl’s fireman’s radio.

“Engine 2 is clear of the hoard.  All vehicles clear and rolling.”

“Roger, Engine 2.  Close up and be ready to keep them off our tail.  We’ll need to clear some obstructions ahead.”  The Cat was already slowing as it approached first major accident scene.  There was no hesitation, however, as Joey used the scoop to toss cars and trucks left and right in order to clear a path through the abandoned vehicles blocking the intersection.  It was a quick and well executed operation, delaying them no more than a minute.  Carl was glad because he knew that, if they didn’t achieve an average of fifteen miles an hour, the fastest zombies from the horde at the refinery would catch up to the end of the convoy. 

The Pacific Coast Highway was relatively clear south of Rosecrans and the convoy resumed its pace for a few miles.  Then they came to Manhattan Beach Boulevard.  The intersection was a mess and the road beyond was also jammed with abandoned vehicles.  Joey stopped the Cat to survey their options and Carl felt the first hint of doubt as he pulled up next to him.  It took him only a moment to take in the scene, then he glanced at the map he had pulled up on the dash-mounted GPS. 

Lifting his WalkAbout camping radio that everyone would be listening to, he said, “We’ll cut through the parking lot of the Target Store and bust our way through to the eastbound lanes of Manhattan Beach Boulevard, then up to Aviation as an alternate route south.”  Joey responded immediately by turning the Cat into the parking lot and clearing a few cars out of the way by simply knocking them aside as he drove through.  Carl and the rest of the convoy followed closely.

It took a little longer for Joey to make a path across the westbound lanes to their alternate route.  While they waited Carl noticed a large group of zombies come away from the doors to the Target store and charge towards the convoy.  There were close to a hundred of them and more were emerging from around the other sides of the department store.  Carl used his fireman’s radio to warn Peter in the Panther of their approach.  Then he turned to Karen with a concerned look and asked, “Why do you think so many zombies were crowded around a department store?” 

“I don’t know,” replied and then her eyes grew wide.  “Why?  You think there are people trapped in there, don’t you?”

“That seems to be what attracts zombies,” Carl replied flatly.  “I think we should check it out.”  He cut across the parking lot towards the zombies and the front of the store as the Panther fired a wide blast of water over the Suburban.  Carl ran down a few zombies and the rest were driven back through the parking lot, away from the convoy and the doors to the store, by the jet of water.  The second fire truck arrived and used its water cannon to prevent the zombies from flanking the convoy.

Carl pulled up facing the doors to the store.  “Attention all Target Shoppers,” he said through the PA.  “This is a survival convoy going to a safe haven.  If you want to get out of that store alive, this might be your only chance.  Is anyone in there?  We don’t have time to waste here.”  Moments later there was movement inside the glass doors to the store.  A group of people were standing there, waving and looking left and right, obviously fearful of zombies.  Carl didn’t blame them.  There were clearly more of them than he could fit into the Suburban too.

“Okay, we can see you.  Hang on while I get a bus up to the doors.  Don’t bring more than you can carry easily and you’ll need to do this quickly when the bus opens its door.  Don’t worry about zombies as long as there is water falling around you,” Carl instructed over the PA.  Then he raised the Walkabout radio and said, “Gus? Can you bring that bus over to the front of the store please?  I’ve found some passengers for you.”

“Ten-four, Big Daddy,” replied Gus, as Carl watched him pull the bus out from line in the convoy.  Carl backed away slightly to make room for the bus, but kept his view of the doors to the store.  They opened as soon as the bus pulled up and at least thirty people ran out through the shower from the water cannon and climbed aboard.  They were a mixture of ages and races.  Some looked like Target employees, but others were clearly customers or people who sought refuge in the store.  Carl suspected they had been there since Z-Day.  There had certainly been enough food and beverages in the store to have kept them alive. 

“How many more places like that do you think there are?” Karen asked in a sad tone of voice.  “Stores full of people surrounded by zombies?” 

“Too damned many,” Carl replied.  “We probably drove past a few already, but we can’t stop and help them all.  These people were just lucky that we were delayed at this intersection.”  Karen nodded, because it was all true.  By the time the door of the bus closed the Cat had finished clearing a path.  Carl turned around to lead the convoy forward, as the bus moved back towards its place in the line.  Carl was sure that there would be an excited, if not festive, atmosphere among those rescued from Target.  He hoped that Gus and the man riding shotgun with him would be able to handle the newcomers. 

The zombies were held back by the second fire truck as the convoy moved slowly across the street and tuned east.  They passed a fire station, but Carl saw that the doors were open and the fire trucks were missing.  They kept going.  It was a long and relatively clear half mile to Aviation Boulevard where they turned south again.  Thankfully, Aviation was also clear and they picked up the pace again. 

 They were driving through a residential area now and zombies began to appear on the streets again.  They came out of open doors and from back yards.  Some of them ran into the street and were hit by the passing convoy.  Others, perhaps the smarter ones if there were such a thing, ran alongside and tried to catch hold.  Few were successful and none posed enough danger to stop and deal with them.  Nonetheless, the experience of seeing zombies erupt into the street was sobering.  While the threat they posed to the convoy seemed minor, the impression made on the people within it was major.  This whole community seemed to be fully infested with zombies.  That didn’t bode well for the rest of the city.  If every neighborhood was overrun like this, the city was a lot worse off than the news had been reporting.  That didn’t come as any to surprise to Carl.   He just hoped that the road would remain clear until they reached a less populated area.

There was another pile-up and traffic jam at Artesia, but the earthmover cleared a path without pausing and they avoided the abandoned vehicles on the other side of the intersection by cutting through a Denny’s parking lot.  Then they were back on the road, passing apartment buildings from which zombies emerged.  It seemed like an endless gauntlet of horror as the convoy drove through the outskirts of Redondo Beach.  This journey might take longer than Carl had hoped, due to all of the detours, but he remained confident that they would find a way through. 

Aviation Boulevard was taking them too far west, so Carl instructed the convoy to turn east on Grant and they drove past more infested apartments.  Carl was sure that as many as a thousand zombies were chasing after the convoy, not to mention any that were still following from the refinery.  It was important for them to keep moving.  At Inglewood Avenue they turned right and drove along next to a cemetery.  Contrary to what the horror movies might tell you, no zombies came at them from the graveyard.  It was actually the quietest street they had been on since leaving the Target store.  As if to punctuate that fact, there was another Target shopping center right behind the cemetery.  Carl and Karen exchanged glances and drove on.  There was no time to stop and check for survivors this time.

After a few more twists and turns they got onto Hawthorn Boulevard and pressed south through the city of Torrance.  There were more wrecks and abandoned vehicles to deal with on this major street, but since it was lined with businesses instead of apartments, there were far fewer zombies running out to intercept them.  They made steady progress for several miles, until they approached Pacific Coast Highway again.

The street ahead was blocked by the biggest traffic jam they had yet seen.  Joey slowed the earthmover to a crawl and Carl glanced at the map for an alternate.  Then he gave directions to turn left on Skypark Drive which would take them around the east side of Zamperini Field, a small airport for general aviation.  The road appeared clear and the convoy followed Carl down to the next turn.

What greeted them as they rounded the corner would be hard to describe as anything less than a vision from Hell.  Carl hadn’t realized that there was a hospital here.  That was the last place he wanted to go.  The street in front of the Torrance Memorial Medical Center was totally filled with zombies who all turned and charged the approaching convoy.  Carl froze for a moment before grabbing the radio.  “Peter!” he almost yelled.  “Hold here with the Panther and keep them back with the water cannon.  Everyone else stop!  We’ll back up and go right on, Madison.”

Carl pulled a U-turn in the Suburban as the larger vehicles shifted into reverse.  They didn’t have to back up far.  Madison would take them down the west side of the airfield and zombies couldn’t cross the field, due to the fences surrounding it.  If the Panther could hold them back, the convoy should be able to elude them.  Carl turned down Madison Street and was pleased to see a clear road ahead.  Looking back, however, he was troubled to notice that the convoy was out of sequence as it followed him down the side street.  The earthmover and water tanker hadn’t made the turn yet.  The RVs were now right behind the Suburban, with the tow-truck trying to pass them and join Carl in the lead.  This could mean trouble.  Without Joey up front in the CAT they might run into something they couldn’t clear from the road. 

That was exactly what transpired as they rounded the end of the runway and Carl could see that the traffic jam on PCH had backed up to the side street next the Best Buy store.  There was no way to get past that and, even if they could, it would only take them back to the gridlock of abandoned cars on PCH.   Carl slowed down for a moment, thinking fast.  Then he turned right into gated driveway that led to a large hanger inside the perimeter of the airport.  He shifted into park and leaped out of the car to inspect the gate.  As expected, it was locked shut.  Carl hesitated to break the perimeter of the airfield, in case the rest of it was secure and especially if there were people hiding out on the field, but there was no better option.  He drew his Beretta pistol and shot the lock off, unlatched the clasp, and pushed the gate open.