02 Flotilla of the Dead (40 page)

“Yes, sir, Commodore,” Carl replied, dragging his eyes off of the horde to meet Scott’s questioning gaze.  “We came from the Chevron refinery there.  It’s still secure, or it should be, but we decided that your safe haven would be a better place to be for the long haul.”

“How did you defend the refinery?  And what makes you think it’s still secure?” Scott asked with a neutral expression.    

“It had a strong fence to begin with,” answered Carl.  “But the primary defense from zombies now is the irrigation system.  We pump seawater through the sprinklers and aim them out through the fence and gates.   We left the sprinklers on with enough fuel to keep the pumps running for several more days.  So I’m pretty sure the perimeter is still secure.”

“Sprinklers!” barked Scott with a genuine smile.  “Who was the genius that came up with that idea?”  Carl smiled back with a self-conscious shrug.  “Amazing!  And you used the water cannon on the fire trucks to defend your convoy on the way here?” Scott asked.

“Yes, sir,” Carl replied.  “Along with the Caterpillar and some modifications that we made to the rest of our vehicles.”  He gestured back towards the blood-soaked, zombie-proof Suburban where Karen was waiting.

“I can see that you turned that SUV into quite a zombie killer,” Scott commented.  “So what do you suggest we do to clear the zombies off this bridge?  Will your water cannon do it?”

“As I explained to Mr. Hammer, the Panther ran out of water,” answered Carl.  “I guess we can pump ocean water up from below the bridge, but that will only hold them back as long as we keep shooting it at them.  It doesn’t really chase them away.  In fact, it can even attract more of them.  That’s one reason we left the refinery.  The water kept them away from the fence, but every day there seemed to be more and more of them gathered just beyond range of the sprinklers.”

“I see,” said Scott thoughtfully.  “So, do you have any other ideas?”

“Actually,” said Carl as he glanced down towards Karen in the Suburban. “Yes sir, I do.”

*****

Operation Pied Piper took only an hour to prepare.  Carl and Scott worked closely to arrange the logistics and tactical plan.  It was modified and expanded when Mick Williams arrived in the Super Huey.  The basic concept was simple enough.  The water cannon on the Panther would drive the zombies back from the gate on the barricade.  Then the gate would be opened and the Marines’ Amtrac would drive out onto the bridge.  From there on they would rely on Carl’s Pied Piper plan to lead the horde away from the bridge. The tricky details came into play when they tried to decide how to keep the zombies from returning.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Scott in the moments before Carl and Karen would be sealed inside of the Amtrac with two Marine volunteers. 

“Yes sir,” replied Carl as he touched Karen’s shoulder to steer her into the armored vehicle.  She smiled at Scott and reached up to pat the hilt of the sword on her shoulder.  Carl explained by saying, “I call her Karen Blade.  She’s deadly with that sword and she’s the best zombie lure alive.  If they don’t follow her screams, nothing can save us.” 

“This is your party, or funeral, Mr. Stiller,” responded Scott.  “I just want to be sure that everyone involved is doing this of their own free will.  Ms. Slade?  Are you sure you want to do this?”  Carl let go of Karen and turned to join Scott in his focus on her reaction.

“Fuck no,” she said seriously, then smiled. “What kind of lunatic would
want
to drive through ten thousand zombies?  Do I look like an idiot?  But I’m willing to do it, if Carl thinks it will work.  He’s been right so far.  So let’s do this.”  She smiled again and ducked through the door into the Amtrac.

The Panther raised its extendable boom over the barricade and began blasting seawater down on the massed zombies.  Their reaction was immediate and dramatic.  The ones closest to the barricade were drenched with water and tried desperately to move back.  However, the press of zombies was so tight, with those farther back still pressing forward, that it was almost impossible for the zombies up front to escape the terrifying spray of water.  Dozens of zombies were thrown over the side of the bridge by the conflicting tide of bodies.  Then the real carnage began as the wet zombies attacked those blocking their path of escape.

Scott watched in stunned silence from atop the containers as the vanguard of the horde began to self-destruct.  Zombies tore at other zombies blocking their retreat, using their teeth and hands to rip a path away from the water.  As soon as the area in front of the gate was clear, Scott signaled for it to be opened.  As Carl had assured him, none of the zombies even tried to pass through the shower of water to reach the open gate.  They were totally focused on fighting their way back in the opposite direction. 

The big Amtrac with a bulldozer blade mounted on its front end rumbled through the gate and increased the carnage a hundred fold.  It smashed through the horde, cutting and crushing bodies without pause and clearing a lane paved with pulverized body parts.  It only cleared one of the four lanes, but the zombies it missed turned to follow in its wake.  They slipped and stumbled through the bloody remains, but seemed happy to follow the Amtrac away from the barricade. 

As soon as the big armored personnel carrier passed out of range of the water canon the PA speakers on the vehicle came to life with blood curdling screams of terror.  Karen Slade was in fine form as she belted out her zombie calls.  Even zombies that were not threatened by the water canon turned to attack or chase the Amtrac.  The treads and armored under carriage of the AAV-7 appeared to be painted red with buckets of blood as it continued to plow through the crowd.  It must have crushed close to a thousand zombies in its half mile journey across the bridge, yet every zombie it missed was determined to chase it down.

Virtually every zombie still capable of walking had completely lost interest in the barricade and turned to follow the Amtrac.  Carl’s plan was working perfectly and Scott was smiling as he ordered the gate on the barricade closed and told the operator of the water cannon to turn it off.  Craig Burns handed Scott his binoculars to follow the progress of Operation Pied Piper and Carl and Karen led the horde off of the bridge and turned west along the shoreline of San Pedro.

Carl and Scott had planned the route carefully, using the GPS in Carl’s Suburban, to avoid leading the zombies into areas where there might still be significant numbers of survivors.  They decided that the best course would be to lead the zombies along the waterfront, past the empty cruise ship terminals, restaurants, and fish marets in the Port of LA, and down towards the entrance to the harbor’s Main Channel.  As soon as Scott was sure they were proceeding per plan, and virtually all of the surviving zombies were following them, he went over to the basket and was lowered back to the dock where the
Expiscator
and Seawind were tied up.  On the way down he noticed that water mixed with many gallons of contaminated blood was still raining down from the bridge into the channel.  Luckily, the barricade was far enough out on the bridge so that none of the blood was dripping on his yacht and airplane. 

George was waiting for him on the yacht and Stan had already moved the Seawind to a mooring where its wings wouldn’t hit anything if the wind shifted.  Scott had decided to leave the airplane where it was for the moment.   He was looking forward to being back aboard the
Expiscator
.  Even though it was his yacht, he hadn’t been on her since last year when the
Sovereign Spirit
departed on her around the world cruise. 

George cast off the lines as soon as Scott jumped aboard and Stan conned the big yacht out into the channel as Scott climber up to the flying bridge.  Soon they were cruising towards the mouth of the channel at full speed.  They quickly caught up to the Amtrac as it led the army of zombies down South Harbor Boulevard. The sound of Karen’s amplified screams carried across the water and could be heard above the rumble of the yacht’s engines, adding an even more surreal aspect to the horrific parade of zombies chasing the Amtrac. 

The horde of zombies stretched for more than a mile when the Amtrac turned onto Sampson Avenue to keep the procession as close to the channel as possible.  The armored vehicle led the undead parade along the shoreline at a steady 15 miles per hour.  Scott was pleased to see that other zombies were joining the mob as the procession passed. They came rushing out of buildings and side streets, attracted by Karen’s screams.  The more the merrier, Scott thought.   A Marine sniper sitting in the open turret hatch made head shots on any fast movers that got too close to the vehicle.  Scott was amazed that the plan was working so well, but he credited it all to Carl’s experience and creative planning.   

As the procession passed the commercial fishing docks Scott was also pleased to notice the two Fire Boats from Station 111 and Station 20 coming into the mouth of the channel from the other side of Terminal Island.  Scott had sent crews by helicopter to man the Fire Boats as soon as the plan was finalized.  He was also happy to see Mick fly by in the Super Huey, heading for Fire Station 110.  The port’s Fire Boats would play a crucial role in the end game of Operation Pied Piper.

Scott sent a brief radio message to Carl, informing him that everything seemed to be proceeding per plan.  Carl acknowledged the message as the Amtrac turned onto West 22
^nd
Street and the zombies swarmed after it.  Some of those further back in the procession ignored the layout of the streets and cut across 22
^nd
Street Park to join up with the fast movers at the head of the horde.  The Amtrac stayed ahead them all as it turned left onto Miner Street.

The
Expiscator
increased speed as Scott lost sight of the Amtrac.  He knew where it was going and wanted to get there first.  As the yacht sped past the tank farms on one side of the Main Channel and the Coast Guard base on the other, Scott was also pleased to spot the
Sovereign Spirit
approaching the entrance to the outer breakwater.  She didn’t have any direct role in Operation Pied Piper, but Scott was happy to have her on scene to provide support, if necessary.   He was a lot more confident with her assets here as back-up.  He radioed Captain Fisher and filled him in on the progress of Carl’s plan, then asked him to stand-by to provide assistance, if necessary.

By then the
Expiscator
had rounded the point where the Port Pilots dock was located.  There were no more port pilots, of course, but the channel was clear and obvious out near the breakwater.  The Fire Boats from Terminal Island had already passed the point and turned into the next inlet where they took position off of Berth 52 at the Breakbulk Terminal.  Scott saw the Super Huey lift off from the other side of the little peninsula and hoped that was an indication that the Fire Boat at Station 110 was manned and ready too.  He confirmed that with a quick radio call to Mick Williams and slowed the
Expiscator
down to watch the show.

*****

Carl was sick and tired of listening to Karen’s screams.  So were the two Marines operating the Amtrac.  Karen just sat on one of the benches in the armored personnel carrier and smiled at him.  Her voice would have given out long ago, if Carl hadn’t brought a digital voice recorder that Scott had provided during the planning stage.  He had recorded about three minutes of Karen’s screaming, then set it on a loop and held the recorder up to the microphone for the PA system.  I was still working like a charm, or a patented zombie lure.

He looked out one of the open firing ports and saw that they had reached the last segment of their route.  The Amtrac was driving down Miner Street with the Cabrillo Marina on its’ right side and open docks of the Bulkbreak Terminal on the left.  He was relieved to see two red fire boats maneuvering next to the docks and quickly confirmed that a similar boat was positioned in the marina.  The narrow peninsula they were driving down was mostly vacant land, with a construction site for the expansion of the marina coming up on the right.  They would run out of road and land to lead the zombies down soon, but that was part of the plan. 

“Let’s button her up,” Carl said as he paused the recorded screams.  The sniper in the turret dropped back in and closed the hatch behind him while Carl closed the firing ports in the upper hull.  Then Carl squeezed into the turret with the young Marine to see out of the vision ports next to the grenade launcher and machine gun.  He wanted to see how his plan panned out. 

A minute later they reached the end of Miner Street.  It was a big loop in front of the entrance to the abandoned Berth 46.  George, who had been studying the harbor and its history since assuming his new role a s Harbor Master, had provided some interesting input on that berth during the brief planning session for this operation.  He explained that it used to be used for tankers to offload oil, but in 1976 a ship named the Sansinena had exploded, killing its crew and flattening the surrounding buildings. The bodies of a security guard and half a dozen dock workers had never been found. The unlucky berth had remained mostly unused since then and some of the locals thought the area was haunted.  Carl planned to trap a lot more unlucky souls here today.

The Amtrac drove around the loop and stopped, facing the pursuing horde, which closed in with relentless purpose.  Did they think their prey was trapped?  Perhaps so, if they were capable of any thought at all.  They certainly seemed to pick up their pace as they closed in on the Amtrac from which hysterical screams still emanated.  There was no way to count their numbers.  Carl was reminded of a quote he couldn’t place at the moment.  Was it the Devil who said “My name is Legion?”  If so, he was here in force today.

The first wave of zombies swarmed on and around the armored vehicle as thousands more descended for the kill.  Were they disappointed when their teeth and hands failed to find flesh and rebounded from cold aluminum and steel?  Carl didn’t care.  He controlled his irrational fear and all too understandable revulsion as the horde engulfed the Amtrac.  He knew that they were in no real danger.  The zombies were simply beating themselves against the armored hull.  But it felt wrong to just sit there and take it.