The Fall of Society (Book 2): The Fight of Society (35 page)

            “How bad is it?” Ardent asked.

            “Bad,” Bear told him. “I’m guessing we have less than an hour before she goes down.”

            “Can we fix it?” Lauren asked.

            “If I had the proper tools and supplies, yes,” Bear told her, “but I don’t.”

            “Can’t you stick some clothes in the holes or something?” Maggie suggested.

            “That would only slow it a little,” Bear said. “We have to get off this thing.”

            “What about the bilge pumps?” Milla asked.

            “We didn’t have time to fix them before we left,” Ardent said.

            They looked at their choices in the harbor—burned out derelicts, sunken wrecks, deserted warehouses with no protection or places to hide, and the dead—a swarm that had now amassed to almost 100,000 corpses; surged a few miles behind them and they were not stopping. They would reach the end of the harbor from all sides, no matter what.

            And soon…

            Ardent steered the failing boat toward the very end of the naval harbor so they could continue to look for anything, something, that could save them. The captain had two choices—left or right—the end of the harbor was upon them. Ardent chose to steer left since the majority of the harbor was on the south side. The boat ran parallel with the outermost end of Terminal Island, which was a quarter of a mile wide. The island contained many industrial buildings, lodging for workers, and a few homes. The isle would be a perfect sanctuary for them, if it were not for the roads connecting it to the rest of the harbor, connecting it to the undead.

            As they approached the other side of the island, Ardent noticed something farther down the way, but a warehouse obscured his full view of whatever it was. The boat came around the other side of the island and Ardent’s eyes focused on the elusive thing. “It can’t be,” he said in disbelief.

            “What is it?” Lauren asked.

            Bear saw it. “Holy mother of God!” he said in shock.

            The group’s mouths were agape as they set eyes on the unbelievable. Docked next to a warehouse was a navel warship—a newer vessel and it looked in near perfect condition, definitely seaworthy. She was a smaller LCS, Littoral Combat Ship, that was 400 feet long and 100 feet across, a trimaran design that could reach speeds of up to 50 knots (60 miles per hour), and was about 3000 tons of state-of-the-art lethality. With several large caliber machine guns mounted on her, two 30-millimeter chain guns, two different systems of missile launchers, and the head of her defense—a 57-millimeter cannon—installed at the bow of the ship. This warship was fast, maneuverable, and had no match. It sat in the water like a gray jewel that blinded their eyes.

            “I don’t believe it!” Derek said and looked up to the sky. “Thank you so much!”

            “Don’t thank anyone yet,” Ardent said. “We don’t know who’s on that boat.”

            “Or if they’re friendly,” John added.

            They could see water flowing steadily out of the hull by her bilge pumps.

            “She’s definitely operational,” Bear said.

            “Can the two of you run that ship?” Maggie asked.

            “It takes ten crewmen minimum to run her,” Bear said, “but we can manage for now, we’ll train all of you on how to operate the ship.”

            “This is too good to be true,” Milla remarked.

            “Yeah, maybe,” Derek answered her, “but I’ll take it.”

            “It’s all we got,” Lauren added.

            “If anyone’s on that ship, what makes you think they’re just gonna invite us aboard to join their happy crew?” Milla told them.

            “Exactly. I don’t think so,” Maggie added.

            “We’re going to find out,” Bear said.

            Ardent steered toward the warship and, as they drew nearer, it seemed abandoned.

            “I don’t like this,” John stated as he held his weapon at the ready.

            “Yeah,” Lauren said.

            “Look, Tom,” Anthony said to his brother. “We found a ship, we’re gonna get out of here.”

            Tom was barely conscious, his eyes rolling in and out of their sockets. “What?” he said in a confused state. “We’re at the hospital…? So soon…? Can I sit down now?”

            “Yeah,” Anthony said somberly. “You can sit down.”

            Ardent moved their boat away from the warship in a half circle and gave the dormant vessel a wide berth. The front of the ship was shaped like a spear and the rest broadened out to the command & control decks, the hangar decks, and the large aircraft flight deck aft. Once at her side, they were able to see the ship’s name, the U.S.S. Independence, and she rested gently in her liquid bed, like the mythical Kraken. She was ready to pounce at any given moment. “Ahoy!” Ardent shouted at the boat, but there was no response.

            Bear whistled loudly, but he got no response as well.

            “Heyyy!” Derek screamed and fired a rifle shot into the air.

            “What’re you doing, man?” Bear said.

            “What?” Derek asked.

            “Don’t fire your gun, you’ll give those dead things our position,” Bear told him.

            “Bear, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s about ninety thousand zombies coming our way,” Derek told him matter-a-fact, “So I don’t think a single gunshot is going to make a difference, yeah?”

            “Yeah,” Bear agreed and fired his weapon into the air. “Hellooo!” he screamed, but nothing.

            “Okay. It’s abandoned, let’s take it,” John said.

            “I don’t like it. The crew has to be around somewhere,” Ardent said.

            John gave him his own words, “Let’s not worry about that until we have to worry about it.”

            “Good advice,” Ardent said with a smirk. “Alright. You heard the man, let’s take her!”

            Ardent guided their boat toward the Independence and, as he did, he looked at the railing to his left. The water level was higher than it was when they first discovered the leaks in their hull. The boat was going to sink in minutes, he estimated. He pulled the barge alongside the aft corner of the warship; it caressed the massive gray beast with a dull clang against its hull. The side of the Independence was smooth, for the most part; there were no ladders or anything to grab hold of to climb aboard. Twenty feet above them was a platform for a zodiac boat and a mounted machine gun, there was a rope ladder, but it was out of reach. Bear grabbed a rope with a grappling hook and tossed it up at the platform. It caught and he put his rifle over his back and climbed up.

            The thunder of the approaching undead storm gradually grew louder…

            Bear climbed over the railing and lowered a ladder rope; Ardent caught it, then grabbed his weapon and looked toward John. “Man the wheel, John, while we check out the ship.”

            “Want me to come with you?” John said.

            “ No, it’s better if you stay here,” Ardent said. “We shouldn’t be that long.”

            “You don’t have time to spare,” John answered.

            “Be careful,” Milla told him.

            “What if you can’t get this ship to run?” Maggie asked. “Then what?”

            “If she won’t run, then we’ll untie her from the dock, let her drift away and drop anchor so those things won’t be able to reach us,” Ardent told her and climbed up.

            He reached Bear and both of them went inside the ship but, before Ardent followed Bear, “We won’t be long so keep the boat close . . . maybe five minutes.”

            “Good,” Derek said, “because this tub is gonna sink in six.”

            Derek was right. The waterline outside the boat was very close to the top; inches close. Ardent disappeared inside the vessel.

            The tiny barge waded and slowly drifted away from the warship. John turned the wheel to keep it close and the boat looped a figure eight as they waited. All of them, except Anthony and Tom, watched the water level rise outside the boat.

            The water was less than two inches from the railing…

            Beads of sweat formed on Derek’s forehead as he nervously watched the water. “This isn’t good, man,” he said. “John, pull up to the destroyer, me and Milla are gonna jump ship before this rust bucket sinks and takes us with it.”

            “Give it a minute, Derek,” John told him. “They’ll be back soon.”

            “Not soon enough. This isn’t funny,” Derek answered.

            “Calm down, baby,” Milla told him and caressed his head.

            Since Anthony was leaning against the railing, he looked over his shoulder to see the water was practically in his face. “Whoa. Hey, John, maybe you should get us back at the ship, huh?”

            John saw the water lever was now less than half an inch from the top of the railing. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”

            He turned the wheel toward the warship and, as he did, sea water spilled over the railing and splashed all over the deck, drenching everyone’s feet.

            “Fuck me,” Derek mumbled.

            John got the boat back against the ship and everyone was eyeing the rope ladder. “Okay. All of you climb onboard. I need to get some weight off this boat.”

            “You don’t have to ask me twice,” Derek said. “Come on, baby,” he said to Milla.

            “Go,” John said to Lauren.

            “No,” she replied.

            “Get up the ladder, Lauren,” John said sternly.

            “You don’t own me,” she replied. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

            He gave her a disapproving look. “Anthony. Can you get Tom up the ladder?” John said.

            “No way.”

            “Hang tight then.”

            Derek and Milla were about to climb up, when suddenly, a loud motorized sound bellowed from the stern of the warship. They couldn’t see what it was so John moved the boat back slowly until they saw the large double doors opening at the tail end. Twice the size of a home garage, the door hydraulics opened them until they were flush with the hull.

            Ardent and Bear appeared and stared down at them from twenty feet up.

            “Hey!” Derek said pleased to see them. “A little help here. This boat is about to become a submarine.”

            “Yeah,” Bear said, “we can see that.”

            “John,” Ardent called. “Steer the boat toward the center of the doors, bow first.”

            “Alright,” John answered.

            Bear worked a control panel and a large crane extended out of the ship from the top of the doorway. The group in the boat watched as the crane pushed out over their heads and stopped once it was completely over the boat. Bear activated another control and four heavy-gauge wire cables lowered from the crane. “Attach the cables to the boat,” Bear yelled to them.

            Ardent looked out toward the island . . . he could hear the horde of the undead, and knew they were on this part of the harbor. He could hear them getting closer and he wasn’t sure which was louder; their screams and roars or the pounding of so many decaying feet. “Quickly!” he shouted. “We’re out of time!”

            John killed the boat motor and went to attach the cables, Derek, Milla, and Lauren helped as well. They each grabbed a cable and connected them to mooring cleats or the metal railing. Water began to continuously spill over the back of the small boat; it was going to sink in seconds. “Hurry the fuck up!” Derek yelled to the others as he finished clamping his cable. “Pulls us up, goddamnit!” he shouted to Bear.

            “Do it!” John yelled to Bear.

            Bear activated the winch—the cables snapped taut and stopped the boat from sinking. Anthony couldn’t stand with Tom holding him down, they were up to their waists in water. The winch struggled to pull the boat up because of the weight.

            “John,” Bear called to him. “The boat is water logged, open the hatch and blast some holes in the hull!”

            John opened the deck hatch, the hull was almost completely flooded, he grabbed a shotgun, aimed the barrel and pulled the trigger—

            BAM!

            PUMP—

            BAM!

            The buckshot blasted two large holes in the hull and water hemorrhaged out of the bottom of the boat like a thick rainstorm as it was lifted up, taking away much of the weight and relieving the stress on the winch. The barge reached the top of the vertical winch and then Bear activated the horizontal winch, bringing them into the bay of the Independence.

            The wind began to stir, not much, but enough for the group to notice. They looked up to the skies and they were clear, no storms were on the horizon. Then they realized why the wind was churning—the dead—they were close, just behind the warehouse they were at. The gathered roars and screams rolled over the top of the large warehouse and pierced their ears. A moment later, they appeared on the dock—a landslide of rotting flesh and blood fell upon them—tens of thousands came around the corner of the warehouse and the undead, seeing the survivors, ran for the Naval ship. Only one thing was worse than the sheer mass of this death and that was the overwhelming smell. It instantly watered their eyes and made it difficult for them to see and breathe.

            “Jesus Christ!” Derek said at the sight.

            “There’s so many,” Maggie said indifferently, “and they’re all here for us,” she looked at everyone else in the group. “There’s not enough of us to go around.”

            “Snap out of it, Maggie,” Milla told her.

            Like two massive armies gathered on an ancient battlefield, the dead charged at one another from both sides of the warehouse until they collided, right in front of the Independence. Both hordes hit so hard that many stenches were ejected into the water in between the ship and the dock. They came together and surged as one giant horde with one purpose only: to get onboard the Independence anyway they could…