Part 7 (1/2)
”We can't rule it out. If they make it back to their camp and find it wiped out, they'll probably figure out we were involved and try to get revenge. f.u.c.k, I know I would.”
”Do you want me to send a scouting party back to their camp and watch out for them?”
”No,” said Price. ”It's too risky. Chances are if the survivors don't kill our people, the deaders will. We can't afford to send enough men to keep the scouting party safe.”
”I could put skirmishers around the perimeter and set up roadblocks.”
Price stared off to the west to where a hill overlooked the storage facility. He studied the high ground for a few seconds and shook his head. For the first time since taking over this compound, he felt nervous about their safety. ”If there are vampires in their group, they'll take out anyone you post outside the compound before we can be warned.”
”Well, we have that cherry picker we found here when we took over the place. I could put it at one end of the compound and post guards on it.”
”You mean a makes.h.i.+ft watchtower?”
Carter nodded. ”We have those night vision goggles we took off that National Guard unit we ambushed a few months ago. It would give us an edge.”
”Do it.” Price opened the door to his office and stepped inside, waving for Carter to follow him. ”However, we have a bigger problem than this raiding party and its vampire pets. We have an internal threat.”
”What do you mean?”
”Close the door.” Price leaned his M&P15-22LR against the wall. He dropped into his chair, pulled out a drawer, and propped his feet on it. When Carter sat opposite him, Price continued. ”Half of this compound poses a threat to us.”
”I haven't heard any dissatisfaction from the men.”
”Not them. They're loyal. I'm talking about those on the Line and the wh.o.r.es we're keeping here.”
Carter looked confused. ”You don't think they'll rise up against us?”
”Not on their own. They're too beaten down. And I doubt most of those on the Line would have the energy. But if that renegade patrol comes after us, I don't rule out the possibility that some of these people might take up arms against us. We'd then be facing a threat from inside as well as out, and we could find ourselves outnumbered. If that happens, we'll need to even the odds.”
”What are you suggesting?”
”It's more of an order than a suggestion.” Price pointed a finger at Carter. ”I want you to develop a contingency plan to murder everyone on the Line and all the wh.o.r.es in the compound if we come under attack.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
The medication seemed to be working. After they had set sail from Portland, Bethany had moaned for several hours before finally drifting off to sleep. Natalie stroked her hair. Bethany's wound was worse than they had first thought. The rotter had not only bitten deeply into her cheek, it had sc.r.a.ped away parts of her gum, exposing the teeth.
Natalie had volunteered to sit with Bethany for a while longer when most of the other Angels left to find a place to bunk down, leaving Emily topside to teach Ari and Josephine how to operate the yacht. Natalie had told the others she wanted to sit with Bethany in case Bethany woke up and needed anything. In truth, the situation scared her and she wanted to hide her fear from the others. Acquiring the vaccine to the Zombie Virus meant the outbreak entered a different phase. Prior to this, even the smallest bite meant a death sentence for the victim, leaving the only questions as when and how to put them down. With the Angels now immunized, even several bites would no longer condemn them to turn into a rotter. However, that brought with it a host of other, vastly more complicated issues. In Bethany's case, how were they to treat a ma.s.sive wound without the necessary medical facilities, especially large-scale trauma that would leave a disfiguring scar when it healed?
If it healed.
A knock sounded on the door. ”Come in,” she said softly.
Josephine stuck her head inside. ”Sorry to bother you. We need you topside.”
”Is everything okay?” she asked nervously.
”Yes, but you need to see this.”
Natalie followed Josephine out of the room and up to the bridge. Once she was topside, she saw Logan International Airport, which she recognized by the twin supports of the air traffic control tower, a mile to their rear. The two women climbed the ladder to the flying bridge. Ari manned the helm, and every few seconds she glanced to the left in the same direction as Emily. Natalie made her way to the port beam and stood beside Emily.
”What do you see?”
”The ninth circle of h.e.l.l, honey.”
Natalie followed their gaze and gasped.
Boston stretched out in front of them. She had made enough trips to the city to be familiar with the skyline, and felt a mixture of shock and despair over how significantly the outbreak had changed it. Two miles in the distance in the Back Bay area, the most iconic landmark, the sixty-story John Hanc.o.c.k Tower, was literally a sh.e.l.l of its former self. The sun had risen over an hour ago, bathing the city in warm light; however, the reflection on the Hanc.o.c.k's all-gla.s.s faade appeared disjointed because half the panels were missing, giving the impression of a partially-finished jigsaw puzzle. Its neighboring structure, the fifty-two-story Prudential Tower, no longer existed. Only wisps of white smoke marked the location where the building once stood, more than likely from fires still burning underneath the debris. Glancing toward the bow, she saw the remains of the Tobin Bridge, which connected Boston to the North Sh.o.r.e. The eight-hundred-foot-long, double-deck center span was gone, leaving only the on ramps and the twisted steel girders of the cantilever trusses mounted atop the cement supports.
The devastation of the skyline couldn't compare to the carnage that existed along the waterfront. The Boston Harbor Hotel had been gutted by fire, with streaks of black extending from shattered windows along the seafront faade. Less than one hundred feet from Rowes' Wharf, the top deck of a Boston Harbor cruise s.h.i.+p stuck out of the water at a slight angle, surrounded for hundreds of feet on either side by a virtual forest of masts and antennas from sunken sailboats and pleasure crafts. A few boats still remained tied to the pier. Natalie could see that every wharf and harbor-front street swarmed with thousands of the living dead. She didn't even want to think about the nightmare that had befallen those who had rushed to the harbor seeking safety.
As they cruised past, the horde of rotters spotted the vessel. Like a wave, the living dead pressed forward, dozens being shoved off the wharves to splash into the harbor. Even from this distance, their moans sounded deafening. Natalie felt fear start in the pit of her stomach and spread along her spine.
”How the f.u.c.k did we get here?” she barked at Ari. ”Did you get lost?”
”N-No. I....”
”Don't blame her, honey. Since it wasn't that far inland from our route, I thought maybe we could find a place to refuel.”
Natalie looked again at the waterfront. Even more of the rotters dropped into the harbor.
What if those f.u.c.king things can swim?
”Head back to the coast,” Natalie ordered. ”It's too dangerous here.”
”Aye, aye, Captain,” said Emily, trying to lighten the mood. She stepped up to the wheel and tapped Ari on the shoulder. ”I'll take over for a while.”
”Thanks.”
Emily turned the yacht into a tight U-turn that brought it close to the waterfront. The horde burst into a full frenzy. The yacht maneuvered close enough to sh.o.r.e that she not only could smell the stench of thousands of decayed bodies, but could start to make out individual rotters in the crowd. Only when the vessel had pa.s.sed Castle Island and returned safely to the outer harbor did she take her eyes off sh.o.r.e.
Ari stood beside her, her head bowed like a chastised child. Natalie placed an arm around her shoulder. ”I didn't mean to snap at you.”
Ari smiled. ”Don't worry about it.”
”That's my fault,” said Emily.
”You're right that we need to find fuel,” Natalie replied. ”We just need to be more careful about where.”