02 Flotilla of the Dead (35 page)

No zombies had arrived yet as he returned to the Suburban and led the convoy onto the airfield.  He radioed the escort vehicles and told them to wait inside the gate t until all the vehicles were through and secure the gate behind them.  The fire trucks should be able to hold the zombies back until that was accomplished.  Then he led the rest of the convoy out to the middle of the runway where they could see any threats before they got there.  Scott decided that this would be a good place for a rest stop.  They would get the convoy back into proper order and take time to plot the rest of their journey, if the zombies gave them enough time to catch their breath.

The rest of the convoy arrived within a couple of minutes and the airfield remained clear of zombies.  The Panther stayed back near the gate, using its water cannon to prevent the new horde of zombies from crashing through.  At the same time the water tankers used the relative safety to refill the both fire trucks.  They even tapped into a fire hydrant and found enough pressure to replenish the water in the tankers. 

Carl looked around and was pleased with what he saw, until looked towards the east side of the airfield.  The hospital was right across Skypark Drive from the airport and thousands of zombies were lining the fence.  A Liflight helicopter was parked on the helipad in front of the hospital, but appeared abandoned.  The fence was holding the zombies back, but for how long?  The bridge to the safe haven at Terminal Island was only a few more miles away, but at the moment it seemed more like a million.

Carl looked around the airfield again, pausing to gaze at airplanes and helicopters that he wished he knew how to fly.  Then he looked at the GPS map in the Suburban and tried to figure out how to get from here to there.  The gridlock on PCH was discouraging.  However, the airfield itself seemed to offer a detour around the traffic jam at PCH and Rosecrans.  He looked towards the south-east end of the field where most of the hangers were located.  Beyond them was a shopping center.  According to his GPS, there was a road that would take them around the gridlock at the major intersection, if they could get there. 

There was no time for scouting missions.  This was a make or break venture.  A virtual army of zombies were closing in behind the convoy.  Another horde from the medical center was massing against the fence and he doubted they would hold them back much longer.  He made a snap decision and radioed the rest of the vehicles, telling them that it was time to move out and instructing them to resume their assigned positions in the convoy.

Carl and Karen led the convoy down the length of the runway as he explained his plan to Joey in the Cat and the other escort vehicles with refinery radios.  Following his directions, the Cat broke through the airport fence behind a car dealership and cleared a path to the corner of Airport Drive and Crenshaw by throwing new Acuras out of the way.   The intersection was also jammed, but nowhere near as bad as PCH had been.  The Cat cleared a path within a minute.   Carl took that minute to look back and was disappointed to see that the zombies from the medical center had broken through onto the airfield, as had the group that the fire trucks had been holding back at the gate through which the convoy had entered.   The two massive groups of zombies merged as they chased the convoy down the runway, forming a true horde of the undead.

Luck was with them when they crossed Crenshaw and headed down Airport Drive.  It took them through a shopping center where the Cat could clear a path through the parking lot in the few areas where abandoned cars blocked the road and there were not many zombies in their path.  A minute or two later they were back on PCH where the going got tougher.  While not jammed up as bad as at the intersection of PCH and Crenshaw, there were still scattered wrecks and abandoned cars that needed to be moved out of the way.  Nevertheless, they pressed forward fast enough to keep ahead of the horde following them.  Carl hoped to figure out a way to lose the pursuing undead before they reached the port.

They continued down PCH for two more miles and the process of clearing the road and holding back zombies almost became routine.  Carl planned to turn south on Normandie Avenue, should take them straight to the port, but a block before they got there it became clear that an alternate route would be needed again.  Traffic was jammed ahead on PCH and as Carl zoomed in on the GPS he suddenly realized why.   There was a Kaiser Permanente medical center on the corner of PCH and Normandie.  That probably meant thousands more of the undead.  He directed the convoy to turn right on the next street, which was Frampton Avenue, but soon realized he may have already gotten too close to the hospital.

Zombies erupted into the street from a trailer and mobile home park.  The road was clear of traffic, however, so he decided lead the convoy through the small mob.  Then as he passed the next intersection there was a panicked transmission on the TalkAbout. 

“RV Nine has a problem!  Flat front tire!  We just hit a parked car too.”  Shit, thought Carl.  Not good timing.  He signaled the Cat to proceed and turned around in the next cross street, going back to help the people in the disabled RV.

“Wrecker Two is on-scene.  We’ll hook a cable and pull them out of here.  Engine Two, cover us with water.”  It was Chuck’s voice.  He was riding shotgun with the mechanic.  Carl was sure that Chuck would be the one to jump out and attach the tow cable.  As the Suburban approached he confirmed his assumption.  Chuck was standing in front of the RV, pulling a tow cable from the back of the truck and blasting zombies with his shotgun.  Engine two, the fire truck bringing up the rear, had not been able to pass the other RVs blocking the narrow street.  It was shooting occasional jets of water that way, but also had to use the water to keep zombies off the fire truck and other RVs. 

“This is fucked up,” Carl said to Karen as he stopped next to the wrecker and pulled out his shotgun.  He opened the door and fired at zombie that was running towards Chuck, blasting its face off.  Chuck smiled and nodded thanks as he turned and bent down to hook the tow cable under the front end of the RV.  He leaned his head under to make sure of the connection as Carl shot down another zombie running across the street.  An RV stuck behind number Nine started honking its horn and Carl cursed again, hoping they weren’t in trouble too and willing them to be patient. 

Two more zombies were rushing at him now, so he swung to his right and blew them away with two head shots.  A strangled scream from behind him whipped his head back towards the disabled RV and his jaw dropped as he saw two zombies attacking Chuck who had just reemerged from under the RV.  They must have come up on the other side of the RV where Carl couldn’t see them coming.  He started to run towards Chuck, hoping to save him, but realized he was already too late when blood spurted from a bite on his shoulder.  Carl stopped and aimed at the head of the other zombie that was biting Chuck’s arm, blasting him away with a chunk of Chuck hanging from its clenched teeth.  Chuck was able to grab his hammer off his belt with his wounded arm and swung it forcefully into the head of the zombie that had bitten his shoulder.  He rolled free and drove the hammer down again and again, cracking the zombie’s skull like a coconut.  Then he met Carl’s shocked gaze and grinned.

“Game over, Carl,” he called out.  “Just like I told you when I met you, but we put together a hell of a team, didn’t we?  Now get the rest of these people to the safe haven.  I’ll hold off these fuckers long enough for you to get out of here!”

“No, Chuck,” argued Carl.  “Come with us!”

“Get the fuck out of here, you idiot!” Chuck yelled as he picked up his shotgun from where it fell when he was attacked.  “I’m a walking dead man and you know it.  Don’t worry, you won’t see me again.  I’ll save some buckshot for myself as soon as you are all out of here.  Now GO damn it!”

Carl wanted to argue, but knew Chuck was right.  He was infected and might turn any minute.  The best thing he could do was exactly what Chuck asked.  He shot two more zombies and turned to get back into the Suburban.  As he closed the door he looked at Chuck and yelled, “God Bless You!”  Chuck just smiled and gave him the finger.  Then he ran up to the mechanic driving the wrecker and told him to pull the RV out of there.  Carl led the way as the wrecker lifted the front end of RV Nine and the rest of the convoy followed down the street.  The last time Carl saw Chuck he was waving at the RVs that drove by him and lifting his shotgun to blast another zombie. 

Carl didn’t remember much of the rest of last few miles to the harbor.  He knew they drove all the way down Frampton Avenue, a street that would haunt his nightmares, where zombies poured out of apartment buildings and were crushed or thrown back by the speeding convoy.  He didn’t remember much of it with his conscious mind, but the visions would return in his sleep where they were burned into his being.  Eventually they made it through a massive pile up at a major five way intersection and onto North Gaffey Street, which took them towards the Seaside Freeway and the Vincent Thomas Bridge to Terminal Island.  It was slow going, though, with the Caterpillar in a constant battle to clear wrecked and abandoned vehicles from their path.  By the time the bridge was in sight Carl was getting reports from the back of the convoy that Engine Two was having to use its water cannon to keep the fast moving zombies off their tail and the rest of the horde was closing in behind them.

Chapter 8: The Surprise Party

“I am the spirit of the morning sea, I am the awakening and the glad surprise.”
  R.W. Gilder

            On the morning of April 13
^th
, 2012, Scott awoke before Michelle, as usual, but instead of going to check on the latest news, as was his habit, he started the day by taking wrapped gifts out of his walk-in closet and quietly arranging them on the bed.  When he had amassed a sizable pile of presents, Scott leaned down to kiss Michelle on the cheek and whispered, “Happy birthday, baby.”

            “Mmmmm?” Michelle smiled as she opened her eyes.  “I thought you would forget.”

            “Why?  Just because it’s the end of the world is no reason not to celebrate your birthday, is it?” Scott asked sarcastically.  

            “You sure know how to cheer me up,” Michelle replied with forced good humor.  “But I guess that trip to Las Vegas that we were planning is out of the question now.”

            “Sorry,” said Scott.  “I don’t think Vegas would be a very healthy place to go right now.”  Michelle put a cute pout on her face to express her disappointment.  “But I do have a little romantic getaway planned for us today,” Scott confided slyly. 

            “Really?” Michelle said curiously.  “And where would that be?”

            “It’s a surprise, honey, but I think you’ll like it,” said Scott.  “Now why don’t you open some of these presents while I order some Eggs Benedict for your breakfast in bed?  I didn’t tell you, but we were given a dozen fresh eggs and a chicken coup yesterday from one of the locals.”

            “That sounds fantastic!” Michelle exclaimed.  The ship had run out of fresh eggs weeks ago.  Scott gave her a deep kiss and turned to make arrangements for their breakfast and the birthday outing he had planned for the rest of the day.  Michelle opened a few gifts, including a new diamond necklace, but it soon became clear that her heart wasn’t in it.  Gifts from the world of yesterday had less meaning after that world had ended.  At least the eggs were cooked to perfection, with a soft yolk that spread slowly over the ham and English muffin and an extra portion of Hollandaise sauce.    

            Two hours later Scott led Michelle down to the vehicle deck.  Her curiosity turned to apprehension when she saw the Seawind amphibious airplane tied up to the rear ramp.  “What is that contraption doing down here, Scott Allen?” she said sternly.  “I hope you don’t expect me to fly in that thing with you!”

            “Relax, baby,” said Scott soothingly.  “It’s perfectly safe and I’m an excellent pilot.”

            “I told you when you bought that thing that I’m scared to fly in it,” said Michelle stubbornly.  “What makes you think that I’ve changed my mind about that now?”

            “Look, honey, isn’t the end of the world enough to be scared of?” said Scott reasonably.  “Besides, with zombies roaming around everywhere, this plane is a lot safer than any form of ground transportation.  And I for one am tired of helicopter and boat rides.  We’ll be taking off and landing on the water where we’ll be safe from zombies.  So don’t worry.  Everything will be fine and I bet you’re going to love this.”  He could see that she wasn’t happy, but she would reluctantly agree to his plan.  Scott checked to make sure that the picnic basket, cooler and duffle bag he had requested were secured in the back seat, along with his M-203 and ammo belts, then held Michelle’s hand as he helped her climb down into the cockpit of the airplane floating below the ship’s stern ramp.

            Scott ran through a quick, but thorough, pre-flight checklist before lowering the cockpit canopy and starting the single engine mounted in the tail assembly.  After a brief run-up with feathered prop he adjusted the propeller pitch to provide reverse thrust and backed away from the
Sovereign Spirit.
  Boat People on nearby yachts watched with interest and envy as the sleek little airplane turned and moved effortlessly towards an open stretch in the outer harbor.

            The sea was calm and sparkled with reflections of the sun in a clear blue sky as Scott turned the plane into the slight breeze and added power.  The acceleration was rapid as the little aircraft planed along the water for a mere 1,100 feet before reaching flight speed.  As the airspeed indicator reached 70 knots Scott pulled back on the yoke slightly and the Seawind climbed eagerly into the air.   Scott stayed low and built airspeed as he retracted the flaps and made slight adjustments to the trim tabs.  Within seconds they were flying at 200 MPH and Scott initiated a rapid climb that quickly took them up to 1,500 feet.   Michelle looked a little startled, but she also seemed excited as she reached over to grasp his hand that rested on the throttle.