Dead Calm (6 page)

After finishing his walk of the compound perimeter,
Captain Cage went to the duty officer's trailer to read the reports
from the previous evening. He, and what was left of the men he’d
commanded in Little Rock, had guard duty that night so he wanted to
know what kind of activity to expect.

After reading the reports, he asked the officer of
the day, “Are these correct, Lieutenant? It says there was no
attempt by the Z's to try and breach our defenses.”

“That's correct, Captain,” he replied.

“But last night's sentries reported a lot of activity
in the woods beyond the fields surrounding us and over by the
lake,” Cage said.

“Correct again, Captain. The Z's seem to have learned
that the fence takes them out so they're keeping their
distance.”

“What do the patrols outside the compound
report?”

“They estimate one hundred Z's are stumbling around
in the woods, but they've been deemed no threat, so no action is
planned against them.”

“Has Major Conway seen these?” Cage asked, holding up
the reports.

“I’m sure he has, Captain. We submit them to him at
0600 every morning.”

Cage thanked the O.D. and went in search of Conway,
eventually tracking him down in the communications trailer. As Cage
entered, the Major was finishing up a call on the satellite phone.
After disconnecting, he acknowledged Cage, but before the Captain
could speak, he held up his hand and said abruptly, “My office,
we’ve got new orders.”

His question about the buildup of the dead outside
the fence forgotten, Cage dutifully followed Conway while trying to
guess what could be going on now. He didn’t like to speculate on
what the future held in store for him, especially when it was in
the hands of the Arkansas National Guard, but he couldn’t help but
wonder.

When the two men were seated across from each other
at the Major's desk, Conway said, “First, I need to inform you that
you've been placed on active duty, along with every other reservist
under my command, and are now part of the regular Army of the
United States of America.”

“And that means what, sir?” Cage asked
cautiously.

Conway leaned back in his chair before replying; “It
means that of the two-hundred sixty three men and woman on this
base, one hundred are to be transported to Fort Hood for
redeployment. It seems that the Army has lost a lot of people
trying to retake New Orleans, and they need fresh bodies to fill
the ranks.”

Cage felt his stomach drop. He’d heard the stories
and read reports about the units sent in to retake the Dead Cities.
They searched every standing structure and crawled through the
storm drains and sewers seeking out and destroying the living dead.
It was no wonder the Army needed more troops for what had come to
be known as Dead Duty. The life expectancy of those engaged in the
battle for the Dead Cities was measured in hours instead of days.
Recalling the abandoned homes that littered the city of New Orleans
after Katrina and the maze that was the French Quarter, he started
mentally making out his will.

The apprehension must have shown on his face because
Major Conway said, “Not to worry Captain. You did your part in
Little Rock. Besides, the Army has decided it needs you here.”

Putting off his anxiety, Cage said, “If I’m needed
elsewhere-.”

“You’re needed here Captain, and that's the end of
it,” Conway interrupted. “Besides, congratulations are in order,
not condolences.”

“Sir?” Cage asked, bewildered.

“You've been slated to take over command of this
base,” Conway told him. “What about you, sir?” Cage asked, shocked
by his promotion.

“I’m to go with the men to Fort Hood where I’ll take
over command of the training facility for the new recruits that are
needed to offset the losses suffered in trying to retake the Dead
Cities. Every man and woman who's capable of holding a rifle is
being pressed into service.”

Standing, Major Conway circled his desk with his hand
outstretched. “Congratulations on your new post, Major Cage.”

Cage stood awkwardly, trying to read the Major's mood
about his own assignment. Should he return the congratulations? He
settled for, “Thank you, sir,” and fell silent.

“My orders are to report to Fort Hood within
seventy-two hours, so we have a lot to go over in a short time,”
Conway said. “I need you to be here in my office at 0600 tomorrow
morning, so we can compile a list of who stays and who goes. We
also need to review the additional duties you'll undertake as
commanding officer of this facility.” After hesitating, Conway said
in a lower tone, “I will also be briefing you on some of the
additional research that Doctor Hawkins is doing. Much of it is
classified but I’ll relay to you the few things that I’m allowed
to.”

“How is it going over there, sir?” Cage asked. “Are
they making any progress toward a cure?”

“It's complicated,” Conway said evasively. “Finding a
cure has become secondary to other considerations.”

Cage was confused. He thought that the only reason
for the existence of this facility was to find a cure for the HWNW
virus.

Seeing that Cage was readying to ask more questions,
and not being in the mood to open the can of worms that was the
research being done at the farmhouse, Conway said crisply, “We’ll
discuss this tomorrow, Major.”

By the tone of the Major's voice, Cage knew he was
being dismissed. Coming to attention, he snapped out a perfect
salute and took his leave.

As he exited the command trailer, he stopped and
glanced over at the farmhouse. Smoke came from chimneys situated at
each end of the white clapboard structure, which at any other time
would have given the building a homey look. Today though, with
Major Conway’s evasiveness and Cage's own suspicions that something
was going on behind the scenes, the farmhouse looked ominous.

'What in the hell are you up to over there,” Cage
asked aloud.

Chapter Four

The Dead Calm:

Steve Wendell tried to discern any sign of life as he
looked into the depths of the open hatch in the side of the Calm of
the Seas. Without diverting his eyes, he said to Brain, “Keep the
light centered.”

Brain adjusted the controls next to the steering
station, causing the spotlight mounted on the bow of the sailboat
to yaw back and forth before shining directly into the dark cavity.
Seeing nothing except some unidentifiable shapes in a large open
area, Steve readied himself to jump into the relative unknown.

Armed with an M-4 as his primary weapon, he took a
deep breath and slowly let it out as he chambered a round in the
assault rifle. Switching the selector to full automatic fire, he
watched as the distance between the bow of their sailboat and the
open hatch on the side of the cruise ship dwindled. Directly behind
him, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan scanned the decks above them for
any Z’s who might try to jump down to land on their craft.

Originally they had planned to pull directly
alongside the liner to gain access to the loading hatch. As they
neared the ship though, Heather noticed that there would be a
four-foot or more difference between the top of the gunwale on
their boat and the bottom of the hatch. Since none of them wanted
to board the Dead Calm empty handed as they hauled themselves up
into the opening, they changed their plan to enter the liner from
the bow of the sailboat which curved upward and would lessen the
vertical gap.

Steve estimated that only a few yards remained
between him and the hatch. He also judged that he would only have
to jump upward about a foot from the bow. Much better than the
four-foot gap if they had boarded from the side, he decided.
Hearing Brain throw the engine of the sailboat into reverse to slow
their approach, he crouched down. The bowsprit entered through the
opening in the side of the ship and its underside started sliding
along the bottom of the hatch as they thought it would, but then a
problem arose. Seeing that the angled spar would stop their forward
momentum before the bow of the sailboat came close enough to step
up through the hatch, Steve took four steps back to give himself a
running start. Dropping his sunglasses to hang from their string
around his neck, he bolted forward and launched himself across the
water. Landing on his feet inside the Calm of the Seas, he scanned
the immediate area around him with his rifle at the ready, tracking
back and forth with it as he searched for any threat.

After a moment of intense scrutiny, he saw that
nothing was going to show itself or leap out at him so he backed up
to the hatch and removed his right hand from the fore grip of his
rifle. Without turning or diverting his attention from the area in
front of him, he waved for the rest of the boarding crew to join
him.

One by one, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan jumped
through the hatch. Susan's feet had barely hit the deck before they
heard the sound of the sailboat's motor rev as Brain backed rapidly
away. Facing into the ship in an arc, the foursome split into two
groups and moved to either side of the hatch so they didn't
silhouette themselves against the sunlight streaming through it.
They took a minute to survey their surroundings and let their eyes
adjust to the dim interior of the Dead Calm.

Heather was the first to speak. In a low voice, she
said, “There are lights on.”

“Emergency lights,” Tick-Tock pointed out in an
equally quiet voice.

“Battery?” Heather asked.

Not taking his eyes away from the area in front of
him, Steve slowly crouched down and placed his hand flat on the
metal deck as Brain had instructed him to. Feeling a slight
vibration, he said, “Generator or some other equipment's running
somewhere. I can feel it. And the floor's dry, so that hatch
couldn't have been open very long.”

They all considered this as they continued to look
around the storage area. It had been months since the HWNW virus
had swept across the world, so there was no way that something
mechanical could have run this long without refueling or
maintenance. Additionally, if the hatch had been open all that
time, the floor should have been wet from water coming in.

“Someone's on board,” Susan whispered nervously.
Although she had no reservations about shooting one of the undead
in the brain, living, breathing human beings were a different
matter.

“Doesn't make a difference,” Tick-Tock said. “We’re
here to get what we need. As long as whoever’s here stays out of
the way there won't be any problems.”Looking at a row of eight jet
skis in front of him and the numerous kayaks stored on racks to his
left, he continued, “Water craft storage.”

“Brain called that one right,” Susan said.

A faint odor came to Steve and he said, “I smell
gas.”

“That was me,” Heather said. “Sorry about that, but
with all those MRE's I’ve been eating it just happens.”

All four of them laughed at the ridiculous bathroom
humor, but the dumb joke had done as Heather had planned and
relaxed the tension a little. She knew it wasn't good for them to
go into a situation like this so wired up that they started
shooting at shadows.

“We clear this room first and then move on,” Steve
ordered. “Susan, Tick-Tock, check out the kayaks while Heather and
I look behind the Sea-Doos. See if you can find where the gas smell
is coming from.”

Heather almost quipped; it’s coming from my ass, but
decided against it. One dumb joke was enough.

After a short search, they found the storage area
clear of the living and the dead, so Tick-Tock and Steve ventured
down a short hall they discovered behind the kayaks. The passage
ended in a room stacked with a dozen, two wheeled gas caddies.

Inside the compartment to the right was a gas pump.
When Tick-Tock tried to activate the equipment though, only a
trickle of fuel came out of the nozzle.

“No power,” Steve pointed out.

Indicating the lights, Tick-Tock replied, “There’s
power somewhere. When Brain gets on board we'll get him to figure
out how to reroute it.”

Reminded at hearing Brain’s name, Steve unclipped the
radio from his belt and called the tech while moving back into the
main storage room. After telling him what they had found so far and
promising to keep him posted, he moved to the hatch leading into
the next compartment and said to the others, “Let's move out. We do
it just like we planned.”

After shouldering their weapons and setting up in a
wide arc facing the door, Heather, Tick-Tock and Susan called out
in turn that they were ready.

The heavy steel fire door opened effortlessly when
Steve pushed down on the latch securing it. After pulling the
portal open a few feet, he quickly backed out of the possible line
of fire in case anything unfriendly came out. The area beyond was
dark, and for just a second Steve's imagination ran away from him.
He was sure there was about to be a rush of the dead pushing
through the opening with their hands outstretched. None
appeared.

In quick succession, the group turned on the
flashlights they had earlier taped to the fore grips of their
weapons. Heather carried the CAR-15 she had brought with her to the
bank building while the rest toted M-4's salvaged from the MRAP.
Each member of the boarding party also carried a pistol and spare
magazines for their weapons.

The beams of light that shot into the dark revealed a
wide hallway with double doors set in its far wall directly across
from them. Cautiously sticking his head inside the opening, Steve
saw that the hall ended a few feet to his right and extended off to
his left for a dozen yards before ending at another set of double
doors. The scent of old and new cooked food reached his nostrils,
giving him further proof that the living had recently inhabited the
Dead Calm.