HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (19 page)

The second woman was shorter and broader.

Myers’ second shot missed.

It flew under her armpit, grazing her long, blue sweater. This woman looked like somebody’s cuddly aunt taking a well-earned holiday.

But she didn’t want a cuddle now. She wanted to use Myers’ head as a soccer ball.

Oh, shit. I missed. Now more can get through!

An older man wearing a tennis outfit jumped through the doorframe.

Myers’ tactical advantage was slipping.

And just then, as Myers realized he was failing to hold them back, things got much worse.

SMAAAAASH!

The flower shop’s second glass door exploded.

Coleman had given the fleeing passengers an extra minute by plugging a corridor with the inflatable life raft, but now the plan was backfiring.

Half of the horde had simply circled around the obstacle. They came pouring onto the outer deck, just beyond the stairwell.

They spotted Coleman and Erin alone on the deck.

Ben Bryant’s voice spoke urgently over Erin’s radio.

‘They’re smashing through your barricade. They’re cutting you off in both directions.’

Coleman and Erin could jump and swim to the lifeboats, but that meant abandoning the healthy passengers still in the stairwell.

I can’t let the hostiles reach the stairwell.

‘We need to jump!’ cried Erin.

‘Not yet.’ Coleman wrenched open a wall panel. ‘Help me with this.’

Coleman yanked the heavy nozzle from the wall cavity.

‘Turn it on!’ he yelled.

Erin threw herself at the large valve, twisting the lever 180 degrees.

Coleman braced himself.

Water exploded from the heavy nozzle.

The recoil felt more powerful than any weapon he’d ever discharged. The nozzle had two large metal handles. The fire hose was designed for two people to operate.

His boots began sliding on the deck.

‘Help me!’ shouted Coleman, but at that instant he felt Erin brace her shoulder against his back and grab the hose behind him.

His boots stopped sliding.

He directed the full force of the fire hose straight into the charging horde.

Coleman had no idea a fire hose had so much power.

The first jet of water knocked the front line of hostiles off their feet and into the crazed mob behind them.

‘Hit the chairs!’ yelled Erin.

From the way Erin braced herself against Coleman’s back, she’d obviously been trained with the fire hose. Coleman swung the water jet toward the deck chairs. The chairs rocketed into the pack.

A dozen crazy attackers fell entangled in the flying wood and canvas.

Coleman sprayed the crowd again.

Wherever the water struck, people went down. If he hit their legs, they tripped. If he hit their upper body, they tumbled backward.

Every sweep of the jet dropped another line of hostiles.

Before any could regain their footing he blasted them back into the crowd, taking down twice as many targets with each sweep of the hose.

It was working. He was holding them back.

He was pushing them back!

The pack wasn’t retreating, but half weren’t standing either.

‘Coleman - behind us!’

Coleman glanced over his shoulder.

The inflatable raft had been overrun.

Dozens and dozens of hostile passengers erupted onto the deck behind them.

Coleman checked the stairwell.

It’s almost empty.

The healthy passengers had reached the lower decks. Now they could jump and swim to safety.

Coleman sprayed the water jet across the first group of attackers. He wanted to buy time, not push them back.

He aimed at their heads, spraying the powerful jet into their faces and eyes, trying to blind them.

‘Coleman!’ Erin warned. ‘Behind us!’

‘I know!’ he shouted over the roaring hose. ‘Help me turn!’

Coleman pivoted in a half circle. Erin braced him all the way.

The maneuver worked.

They fired into the crowd that had torn through the life raft.

At least twenty hostiles spilled onto the deck.

More shoved from behind.

Coleman saw an opportunity.

The second hostile group was close.

The jet hit them harder. It pushed them further.

They were emerging right where the handrail had been destroyed when Coleman inflated the life raft.

With one well-aimed sweep, Coleman sent four hostiles tumbling through the gap in the hand railing.

With his second sweep, he washed three more off the ship.

The hostiles didn’t learn.

As they rushed from the corridor, Coleman swept them straight over the side of the ship.

In seconds Coleman pushed dozens of sliding, tumbling hostiles plunging down into the ocean.

‘The others are coming!’ Erin warned.

Coleman couldn’t maneuver the hose fast enough to stop both groups.

At best he could slow them down.

‘Climb over the railing!’ he shouted.

Erin released the hose and climbed the railing.

Coleman struggled with the nozzle.

‘Are we going to jump?’ Erin yelled.

Bracing the hose under his arm, Coleman scrambled over the railing.

The hostiles were recovering their footing.

Coleman twisted the hose so the water jetted straight downward.

On both sides of the nozzle protruded metal handles.

‘Grab that handle!’ yelled Coleman. ‘We’re going down.’

Coleman knew Erin wouldn’t hesitate.

She grabbed the other side of the nozzle and nodded.

The hostiles were just feet away.

‘Now!’ yelled Coleman.

He and Erin let go of the railing.

The powerful water jet and the friction from the unspooling hose combined to carry Coleman and Erin down the side of the ship like two
rappellers
sharing the same rope.

The next railing raced up at them.

‘Grab it!’ yelled Coleman.

He snatched the railing with one hand and Erin with the other. He needn’t have bothered. Erin had caught the railing with both hands. They climbed over. Coleman’s boots landed back on deck a moment after Erin’s.

She seemed unfazed by their wild ride down the outside of the ship.

Clank - clank - clank!

The sound of steel striking steel assaulted their ears.

‘What’s that noise?’ Erin asked.

Coleman pointed over the railing. ‘The hose.’

Momentum had dragged the hose lower.

Without anyone to brace the nozzle, the powerful jet of water whipped the hose around like a giant angry snake.

Clank!

The metal nozzle thumped into the ship again, spraying wildly in all directions.

‘Look!’ Erin pointed.

Coleman saw hundreds of people in yellow life vests reaching the lifeboats. Some of the boats were maneuvering closer to pick up the injured and the elderly.

Erin pointed upward. ‘The hostiles aren’t chasing them. Maybe they’re scared of water.’

Coleman looked at the people being saved. ‘They’re making it. Look at them.’

‘I hope Ben can see this,’ said Erin, clutching her radio.

Coleman nodded.

Bryant had provided an early warning about the large pack of hostiles. He’d kept Coleman and Erin up-to-date with every move the pack made.

Ben Bryant’s knowledge of the ship and his surveillance cameras had just saved hundreds of people’s lives.

SMAAAAASH!

Craigson heard the florist’s second glass door explode.

Stupid, fucking, jammed rifle!

He looked up.

The impact sounded like a motorcycle ramming the door. Glass exploded into the shop. Something dark catapulted into the store.

It wasn’t a motorcycle.

It was a person.

A large, crazy person who couldn’t wait to reach the Marines.

He’d charged through the glass like Myers.

Unlike Myers, the man wasn’t wearing a helmet, body armor, or gloves to protect himself.

Apparently he didn’t need them.

He tumbled into the shop on a wave of broken glass. He leaped to his feet as though he’d been rolling through feathers.

He ran at Craigson.

Craigson had never witnessed a more hideous sight in his life.

The man wore tight black jeans, a black shirt, black shoes and a black hoodie. A mini ponytail held back his blond hair.

None of this bothered Craigson.

It was the spurting blood.

It jetted sideways from the man’s neck as he ran.

With every step, wounds gaped open. Every limb had glass hanging from it.

And still he charged.

The man should be in agony, but he ran as though any sense of pain or survival was wiped from his DNA.

Craigson roared and charged.

He tucked his chin down and led with his shoulder, meeting the man’s charge head on.

SLAAAM!

Their bodies collided like football front liners.

Their heads connected.