03 Deluge of the Dead (31 page)

“Brett and Timmy,” She answered meekly.

“Brett and Timmy,” Scag said in a fake baby talk voice. “Do you boys want to grow up to be pirates?” Timmy cried and buried his head in his mother’s side, but Brett innocently replied, “I do!” To which Scag laughed. Then he stared at Molly and said, “Two kids and twins to boot, huh? Come over here and leave the brats.”

Molly cringed, but slowly disentangled the boys and passed them over to their grandmother. She nodded and tried to smile at Martha before squaring her shoulders and walking up to the man seated in front of her who held the fate of her remaining family in his hands. “Yes… Captain Scag… sir?” she mumbled humbly.

“Let’s see if the merchandise is past its prime,” Scag said as he snaked his hand under her skirt and groped her panties. He torn them down her thighs and shoved his filthy thick fingers into her. A look of surprise crossed his face as he said, “Soft, tight, and moist? Hmmm… You do show promise.” He smiled as Molly squirmed and tried to hide her revulsion. Then he asked, “The man upstairs was your father, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” she admitted hesitantly. “He was a good man.”

“I don’t know about that, but he was a good shot,” Scag said. “He put a bullet right between the eyes of one of my best friends. So, you think that makes us even?” He waited a moment, wriggling his fingers, and said, “No, I didn’t think you would. It might be better to send you and your kids and the old lady over to the
Jet Cat
too. Let me think about it.” He pushed her way and left her in suspense by waving her back into line before smelling his fingers and raising his eyebrows.  

Scag turned to the three young women who appeared ready to piss themselves and said, “Now we come to the sweet meat. Tell me your names girls.”

“My name is Paula, Captain Scag. I’m twenty-one and single,” said the first girl with as much confidence as she could muster. She was an attractive brunette who had clearly learned what was expected after witnessing the results of the previous interviews.

“Mindy,” said the second girl. Scag thought that single word might be the extent of the curvy blonde’s vocabulary, but that was probably because she was terrified and he liked women who kept their mouth shut. Scag nodded and turned his attention to the last girl.

“I’m Susan and I’ll do anything you like. I want to make you happy,” she said in an artificially sexy voice.  This black haired beauty was quite possibly the hottest of the three, although they were all lookers, and her response turned Scag on. It stoked his hunger for power to know that she would indeed do what he wanted and pretend to like it. She was definitely a keeper. Shit, who was he kidding? They all were.

“Have we killed anyone you loved?” Scag asked and they all shook their heads. “Do you want to stay here on the
Exterminator
with me?” All three girls nodded. “Do you promise to behave yourselves and to do whatever and whoever I tell you to?” There was only slight hesitation and sideways glances before they all nodded again. “Congratulations,” he pronounced. “All three of you are now Captain Scag’s old ladies and will be treated with respect as long as you stay that way.  You’ll keep living the good life on this yacht, if you keep me happy. Do anything to cross me and I’ll send you to other boat. Try to kill me and my men will fuck you to death. Is that clear?” Vigorous nods.

Scag turned back to George Hammer’s family and said, “Sorry folks, I can’t be too selfish and it might not be healthy for me to let either of you used bitches stay on this boat, since you seem to hold me responsible for killing that asshole on the bridge. So I’ll be sending all of you over to keep the rest of my men company on the ferry. They’ll probably just use the old lady for blow jobs and scrubbing toilets, if you all behave yourselves. I’ll tell them to make the little boys mascots or cabin boys. I’m sure the pretty momma will do anything my men want her to if she knows her boys will pay for any disobedience. At least my gang won’t tie you up to pull a train like they will with the Spick bitch. Consider yourselves lucky.” 

Martha and Molly were in tears and the little boys cried openly in sympathetic fear as Scag’s men herded them out onto the open rear deck to await transfer to the ferry. Scag smiled at the remaining three young women as he poured another large Scotch and said, “Can I offer you ladies a drink?”

Chapter 10

To: Sovereign Spirit

From: Doyle’s Southern Comfort

Attn George Hammer. George, we found the girl transmitting from that sailboat. They were adrift about 30 miles northwest of Santa Barbara. The girl, Amy, is safe and her infected father was dispatched. We brought Amy aboard Doyle’s Southern Comfort and abandoned the smaller boat at sea. We are sailing southeast to meet up with you.

Your friend from Down Under, Jimmy Doyle.

After Scott went to meet the arriving helicopter Captain Fisher paused to address the VIP guests on the bridge and said, “You heard him. We’ll be leaving soon, so now would be the time to get off this ship, if you’re not coming with us.”

“I want to help. Count me in,” Carl said without hesitation. His own people were all in safe havens now. Carl felt he owed Scott and his family as much help as he could offer. He felt he could speak for Karen Slade too, who he had sent to sickbay with the injured Lucy. Fisher nodded his thanks.

FBI Special Agent in Charge Corrigan had been watching the drama unfold and decided it was time to speak up. “It sounds like you might be able to use a Hostage Rescue Team. I have my HRT leader and her best tactical sniper aboard this ship right now. They’re yours if want them. I’ll come too, at least as far as the range of my helicopter to bring me back.”

“Thank you, sir,” Captain Fisher said. “I’m sure the Commodore will appreciate your assistance.”

Nancy from the Sea Launch team said, “I must get back to my ship, but we might be able to help you locate the missing boats after the weather clears. We can control a commercial imaging satellite with excellent resolution.”

“That sounds good,” Fisher agreed. “But I hope we find them before then.”

Major Connors had also been a silent, but intent, observer of events. He had come aboard with Sergeant Major O’Hara and sat silently in through the brief, but momentous, meeting with Scott in the conference room. His mind had been spinning as he processed new information relevant to his mission: the Commodore was not going to die, but he was contagious, his family was missing, and now the
Sovereign Spirit
was leaving port.

“Captain Fisher,” Connors said. “I have to stay here in command of the Marines dispatched to secure this port, but I want you to know that General Barstow and I have full confidence in Commodore Allen. I can see that Sergeant Major O’Hara and his men are fully committed to your cause too, so I have no objection to them continuing their detached service on this ship. You can rely on my men to hold the port and continue the flow of supplies to the refugees here, as well as to the people relying on us back in San Diego.”

“Thank you, Major,” Fisher said earnestly. “I hope you will also coordinate with the remaining members of the new Captain’s Council. I suggest you confer with Ms. Epstein from the Sea Launch ships,” gesturing towards Nancy, “as well as Captain McCloud of the Coast Guard Cutter Stratton when he returns to port. They can be of great assistance in coordinating your operations with the Flotilla, if you agree to work with them.”

“I will,” Connors promised. “Now I suppose I should get back to my men and wish you Godspeed in your new mission.” He and Nancy wished the rest of them the best of luck before excusing themselves to leave the ship.

Captain Fisher returned to the necessary preparations to leave port. He picked up a phone and pushed a button to connect with the engine room. A moment later he said, “Mr. Lunt? Prepare to start all engines and go to sea. We’ll need flank speed for an extended period of time. You have less than 30 minutes to get ready to give me 110% power. Lives are at stake.” The Captain hung up the phone and continued to follow an abbreviated checklist from memory for rapid departure. He couldn’t remember a more important or urgent mission.

*****

Scott arrived on the helipad moments after the Super Huey had landed. He watched as the stretcher bearers removed the limp and waterlogged body of George Hammer from the passenger compartment. O’Hara was barking orders and directing the process. Mark and Jake were escorting a girl wrapped in a jacket towards the stairs. Scott approached them and said, “What did she see? Could she tell if any of the bodies they threw overboard were Michelle or Billy?” He knew his voice held a note of panic and didn’t give a damn.

“No,” Mark replied. “She says she saw two or three bodies hit the water, but was too far away to give any more details. It was pretty dark by then. For what it’s worth, I don’t think they would kill and throw away any women – not from the rest of her story about these assholes.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Scott bemoaned.

“No, bro,” Mark said. “These guys are hard core, from what she said. We have to find them. But I have a feeling that Michelle is still alive, probably Billy too. These fuckers might be worse than zombies in some ways, but they won’t kill anything, or anyone, that might be valuable to them. Let’s hope they’re smart enough to know what they got when they were dumb enough to grab your boat.”

“Oh yeah,” Scott grunted. “That makes me feel much better.” He glanced at the girl who had clearly been through hell and said, “Get her to sickbay.” Then Scott turned to the limp form on the stretcher and walked alongside George as he was also moved below decks. Scott needed answers and at least a glimmer of hope. George might be the only one able to provide that now, but that glimmer was fading fast. Mr. Hammer looked worse than most of the zombies Scott had seen lately.   

Doctor Greenburg met them in the elevator with a gurney and began immediate treatment on George.  She briefly inspected the pressure bandages that O’Hara and Mark had applied. Then she started checking George’s vital signs. A frown distorted her normally stoic features as she switched from checking his pulse to using her stethoscope.  When she looked up at Scott he could tell that the news wouldn’t be good.

“He’s lost too much blood,” she said. “I also see signs of advanced hypothermia from being in the water for at least an hour, although that might have actually helped him survive this long considering the severity of these wounds. It restricts blood flow. If he makes it another hour, though, it will be a miracle.”

“I hope miracles are par for the course today,” Scott replied. “Just do whatever you can. It’s imperative that I speak with him. He was the last one to see Billy and Michelle. They’ve been kidnapped.”

Dr. Grace Greenburg seemed frozen by shock for a split second. She had become close with Michelle over their yearlong world cruise. During the long days at sea they could often be found together, sitting by the pool, or playing cards, or in the casino, while the ship sailed from one exotic port to another. In short, Grace and Michelle had become good friends aboard the
Sovereign Spirit
and Grace was struck hard with the news of Michelle’s abduction.

George was clearly in bad shape when they rolled the gurney into the brightly lit sickbay. His skin was deathly pale, almost gray, and shriveled from exposure. The monitors barely registered signs of life when he was hooked up to them. Dr. Greenburg started IV infusions of saline and blood plasma. She said he was too unstable to consider operating on his gunshot wounds.

“Can you wake him enough for me to ask some questions?” Scott queried.

“Probably, but it would kill him,” she replied.

Scott thought about that for a moment and asked, “Can you save him if you don’t wake him up?”

“Probably not,” she admitted.  

“So you need to make a hard decision, Grace,” Scott said. “George might have information that could help us find and save my family, as well as his own. We both know that George would give his life to save his wife, daughter and grandsons, not to mention Billy and Michelle. You need to decide if we should give him a last chance to do that.”

Dr. Grace Greenburg never thought she would face this type of decision. She had signed on as the ship’s doctor aboard the
Sovereign Spirit
to escape the horrors she had witnessed in Los Angeles emergency rooms and Iraqi field hospitals. Grace realized that decision had helped her to escape the true horror of an apocalypse that would in all likelihood have snuffed out her life in the first wave of infected patients to reach whatever hospital she had been working in. She also knew that Scott was a good man who only wanted her to do the right thing. Her dilemma came in the realization that doing the right thing now meant killing the patient she was supposed to be trying to save. It took her less than ten seconds to decide.

“I’ll add adrenaline and amphetamines to the IV. We can try an inhaler with a mixture of amyl nitrate and ammonium carbonate to trigger consciousness. If that doesn’t do the trick I’ll inject more adrenaline into his heart. He should be conscious for a few minutes before it kills him. I just hope he has the answers you need.” She turned away from Scott to gather the medications she had mentioned.

Scott stood over George and recalled their friendship and confrontations. George was strong willed, some would say bullheaded. He had a hard and often abrasive personality that hid a soft and compassionate heart. It had made him a perfect construction manager, superintendent, and ultimately Harbor Master of the last active port at the end of the world. He would be missed. Nevertheless, Scott knew in his own heart that George would want his final moments to have meaning, especially if he could help to save his family, not to mention Scott’s.