Part 26 (1/2)

The dead punched and slapped a stateroom door across the pa.s.sageway. There was no way of knowing how many were outside the door.

They said prayers, thanking the Almighty that the creatures were bludgeoning the other doors and not theirs. They all knew that this could change with a sneeze or the s.h.i.+fting winds of chance.

They'd been trapped now for twelve hours, awaiting rescue. How far could this have spread in twelve hours?

Laura sat in Tara's arms, halfway in shock. ”Why don't we open the door and just shoot them?” she asked.

”We don't know how many there are, honey. We're going to have to wait it out.”

They all knew that the s.h.i.+p was still under military control. They had felt it turn numerous times in the past few hours, turns too systematic and incremental to be random.

At least the navy still held the bridge and the reactor s.p.a.ces, Dean thought.

Somewhere inside the ma.s.sive s.h.i.+p's superstructure, Admiral Goettleman keyed the 1MC announcement system: ”This is Admiral Goettleman speaking, infection has broken out onboard, and we are currently mobilizing teams to neutralize the threat. If you can hear this, remain quiet and a team will work its way to you shortly. That is all.” The sound blared throughout the s.h.i.+p, ironically causing marked undead frenzy.

They all heard the announcement clearly, and so did the undead outside in the pa.s.sageway.

The door began to bend, straining in protest to the noise intrusion in the creature's new territory. Danny squinted in the low light, watching the middle of the door flex inward slightly. He sat next to Laura, telling her that everything would be fine. The boy in him believed his words were honest, but a competing voice said he'd no doubt be dead soon-the two of them reduced to small appetizers.

The door bulged inward still, nearly to failure, and death began to wrap its dark wings around the survivors. They all closed their eyes just before five small holes appeared in the door above the handle in nearly a straight line. Bodies fell with an audible thump.

”Back away from the door and get down!” a familiar voice screamed from the other side.

More suppressed 9mm rounds penetrated the door and surrounding bulkheads, causing ricochet injuries to Danny's shoulder. He cried out, and more bodies fell.

”Open up, it's me, Ramirez!”

Dean shot up and readied her pistol before unlocking the door and twisting the handle. The door flew open, revealing Ramirez and John standing there with automatic weapons, covered in dirt and sweat.

”Let's move; the whole deck is overrun!”

”Tara, I owed Kil one. Make sure you tell him we're square when you see him,” Ramirez said.

Tara hugged him briefly, sobbing with happiness to still be alive as they bolted from the stateroom.

They all moved quietly in single file, protecting the children in the middle. John held Annabelle in his backpack, the white dog zipped up to her neck. She didn't like it very much, but she didn't try to escape.

Annabelle was invaluable in confirming the presence of undead onboard. Just as planned, John took her back to the area where Danny thought he had heard the creatures. When the large steel door opened and the military men walked through, he didn't hide; he feigned ignorance. He scooped Annabelle into his arms as the guards confronted him. Annabelle gave a terrible howl, urinating down John's s.h.i.+rt. Her raised hackles further confirmed that the creatures were among them. John played dumb and the guards escorted him and his dog out of the area.

”Hurry, only two more knee-knockers to the flight deck hatch!” John said to everyone.

The adults watched Danny and Laura like hawks as they moved. The pa.s.sageways could erupt with undead at any moment.

Annabelle's hackles stood once again, and she tensed in John's pack, growling.

”Get ready, Ramirez!” John warned.

The undead didn't appear from the front-they were making ground on them from the rear, where Tara and Ramirez guarded the children. Ramirez turned and opened up on them, walking backward. He was changing mags, slapping the full one home, when he fell flat on his back over a knee-knocker. His gun discharged as he fell, sawing a diagonal pattern across two of the creatures that closed on him. Chunks of flesh, muscle, and bone peppered the steel bulkheads and other undead in the rear of the ma.s.s.

The creatures still advanced.

”Duck down, kids, hold your ears!” John screamed as he opened up on the rotting monsters that were set to dog-pile the marine.

Ramirez went full auto from his back, flesh and bone flying around the pa.s.sageway and littering the blue tile deck.

With his lower body covered in brains and other parts, Ramirez quickly jumped to his feet, firing more rounds down the pa.s.sageway at the advancing creatures. ”Move, John, get out!”

John reached the flight deck access hatch and threw the hatch lever violently. He kicked the door open, and sunlight beamed inside. The smell of oil, salt, and machinery filled the pa.s.sageway.

”Move!” John said.

The survivors sprinted out the access hatch and up the ladder to the relative safety of the flight deck.

Ramirez kept backing up and firing until John tapped his shoulder.

”Your turn, Ramirez. I'll secure the hatch.”

Ramirez ran up the ladder to the catwalk, tripping on the way up. John took one last potshot and closed the hatch. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a bit of rope, and tied the hatch closed from the outside. Should hold for a bit, he thought.

Stepping up to the catwalk, John had full view of the carrier deck. Most of the aircraft were stored below in the hangar deck. John could see hundreds of people milling about. He was forward near the bow of the s.h.i.+p, near catapult one. Climbing up to the flight deck he could hear a bridge announcement.

”Onboard George Was.h.i.+ngton, this is the officer of the deck with an update. The admiral has informed me that we are to begin clearing operations soon and are now setting course for the Florida Keys. We remain in control of the reactor and bridge. Remain calm, that is all.”

After the announcement, John could hear the creatures beating on the steel hatch below. Calm, my a.s.s, he thought. John briefly admired the ocean view around him and was surprised to see a handful of destroyers cruising in formation on both sides of the carrier with a supply s.h.i.+p off the port quarter.

”John, I need help,” Jan said, tapping his shoulder.

”What is it? Are you okay?”

”Dr. Bricker and I have set up triage farther aft near the bridge island. I can't find William and I think he may be-”

”Don't think like that. I'll keep an eye out for him-there are a lot of people up here,” John said in what he hoped was a comforting voice. ”Go back to the medical tent and I'll come by in a bit, okay?”

”Thanks, John.”

He could hear Laura crying as her mother walked back to the group of Hotel 23 survivors.

50.

USS George Was.h.i.+ngton-Post-Outbreak ”Admiral, the creatures control many of the living s.p.a.ces as well as the supply hold areas. The crew set Condition Zebra on all main hatches early on in the outbreak per the OOD's instruction, so many of them should be compartmentalized below.”