John Ringo - To Sail a Darkling Sea

I need to talk to the refugees.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hello,” she said in Spanish, walking over to the group of refugees. “I am Lieutenant Sophia Smith of the United States Navy, Wolf Squadron. We are all glad that you survived but until we get you to the boats, the problems aren’t over. There are too many infected in this town for our small force to get you down to the boats by the roads. So you are going to have to go back the same way we got here. It is, however, quite safe. I am an experienced climber and all that you have to do is climb a ladder. We will attach a safety rope to you so that even in the slight possibility that you slip, we will be able to keep you from falling. I assure you, again, it is quite safe. I need one volunteer, please… ”

The man who had approached her raised his hand.

“I will go. I am tired of this place. Terribly tired.”

“Please raise your arms,” she said. She tied a bowline around his upper chest, tight. “If you slip, just fend off from the wall and keep your arms down. You can’t really slip out of this. When you get to the bottom, call to the girl at the door down there. Tell her that she needs to move over to the ladder to help people untie themselves. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” the man said. “I can even untie this knot myself.”

“Don’t do that til you’re on the roof, okay?” Sophia said, smiling. “There, now, Corporal, help me get him over the wall and onto the ladder… ”

* * *

“Habla Ustéd espanol?” the first refugee said.

“Si,” Olga said. “Hablo espanol. If you will wait here, we will gather a group and one of these men will escort you down.”

“The woman at the top? She said that you, the woman, needs to go to the ladder and untie people who cannot do it themselves.”

“Oh,” Olga said, nodding. “Okay, guys, I’ll assemble the groups at the ladder, you take them from there downstairs. You got it?”

“Jesus, why couldn’t they get this all figured out the first time?” Hadley groused. “We’re just gonna stay in place in teams. No, now we’re going to be by ourselves. No, now we’re going to be… ”

“Because we haven’t done it before,” Olga snapped. “Just follow the damn orders, Hadley!”

“Screw you, Olga,” Hadley said.

“I don’t have time for this,” Olga said. “Just get ready to take the people down.”

* * *

Slowly, one by one, with much coaching, the refugees were put over the wall. Only one slipped off the ladder, an elderly man who lost his footing. But he was only ten feet or so from the bottom and Bearson belayed him down easily.

More turned up as the Marines continued their clearance of the local area. There were more bursts of fire, at one point a lot of fire, but nothing on the radio. So far, so good.

“Division, Team Shewolf, over.”

“Shewolf, Division.”

“All the target buildings are clear. No injuries to refugees or Marines. We are bringing the last group back to Seawolf hand-off at this time.”

“Roger, Shewolf. Good job. Seawolf, how’s it coming with the infirm? Haven’t seen any of those over the side, over?”

“I still haven’t seen the stretchers turn up, Division,” Sophia replied.

“Let me check on the stretchers, over.”

“Division, Seawolf. Thinking about it, unless they’re in really bad health, I really think that the stretchers are a sub-optimal choice. We just lower them on a rope. Unless they physically can’t take it.”

“Shewolf, Division. Are you back in contact with the climbing guy, yet, over?”

“Not yet, Division. Moving this last group of refugees.”

“Contact him and check on what Seawolf is suggesting, over.”

“Aye, aye, Division.”

* * *

“Gotcha, ma’am,” Derek said, balancing the woman as she reached the ground.

The elderly Spanish lady was bitching about something a mile a minute in Spanish. Derek’s Spanish was limited to “Dos cervesas, por favor” and “¿Cuál es el costo de un rapidito?”

“Any idea what she’s saying, ma’am?” he asked the Lieutenant.

“Do you call this a rescue? Where are the helicopters? Who are you people? Are you really from the United States? I don’t believe it. Where are your ships? Where have you been all this time?” the Lieutenant translated. She said something in Spanish and the woman babbled back at her, just as angrily. There was some back and forth and the woman finally stopped, shaking her head. She patted the Lieutenant on the arm then pulled Derek’s face down and kissed him on the cheek.

“What was that for?” Derek asked.

“I told her she’s looking at half the remaining United States Marine Corps,” the Lieutenant said. “Now carry her over to the ladder. We’re going to have to belay her down there as well. Then probably through the building.”

“Hola! Hola!” a voice said from above them.

Rapelling down the rope was a very tan and handsome man in his late twenties. He landed with a bounce and waved and bowed as if wearing a broad hat.

“Senor Javier Eduardo Estrada, at your service, bella senorita!”

It was only when he hit the ground that it was apparent he was shorter than the Lieutenant.

“My boat is the Bella Senorita ,” the Lieutenant replied. “ I am Lieutenant Sophia Smith of the United States Navy.”

“Lieutenant Smith?” the man said then pointed upwards. “Teniente Smith?”

“My sister,” Sophia said.

“Ah, the resemblance is notable,” Estrada said, then held out a hand at chest height. “Except for the height.”

“You’re one to talk,” the Lieutenant said, chuckling. “Maybe because it’s not such a long way down for me to look, I’m the one that can handle them. Corporal. If you’d move Mrs. Alvarado over to the ladder, please? We get her all the way to the boats and I think we’re done.”

“Not before time, ma’am,” Derek said. “Sun’s going down.”

“And the zombies like the dark, no?” Estrada said. “Perhaps it is best to hurry.”

“Please God, we don’t have another evolution like that one,” Corporal Douglas said. “I am fricking beat!”

The sun had set on the town of Las Corrillas, “the trickle,” and all the survivors that were recoverable were tucked away in the large yacht that had brought down the Marines. Sophia had invited the Marines over to her boat to hang for a while before they moved out to the next town.

“I think in retrospect we should have just fought our way through town,” Sophia said. “But that’s both retrospect and I don’t do that stuff.”

“I’m not sure I agree, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Januscheitis said. “We hit some big concentrations up on the hill. And that was a hell of a lot of survivors. Getting them down in vehicles would have been as much of a pain in the ass. And walking them would have been out of the question.”

“Yeah,” Faith said, sipping a cup of tea. “Infected density was higher than you realize, sis. Most of them didn’t make it down to your teams. They were trying to find a way down. Which meant they were in our way.” She drained the tea and stood up. “Sis, thanks for hosting my guys and for the beer. But we need to get back to the boat. We’re headed back to Santa whatever to go, ugh, clear more liners.”

“Take care of yourself, sis,” Sophia said, giving her a hug. “And don’t let that Spanish climber talk you out of your pants.”