John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

“We’re going to have to figure out better protocols,” Steve said. “That’s for sure. But we’re still going to have to use the ladder.”

“I hate those,” Faith said. “I really do.”

* * *

“Zombies, zombies, zombies!” Faith yelled, pounding on the exterior hatch with a crowbar. “Come to Papa Wolf! Zombies, zombies… And we’ve got customers, Da.”

“Roger,” Steve said, taking a free-hand stance back from the hatch. “Make sure to cover yourself with the hatch.”

“Try not to nail me with bouncers,” Faith said, undogging the hatch. She pulled it all the way open and hid behind it.

Four zombies stumbled out into the light, blinking.

“HERE!” Steve called, taking the first one out. “Here, here, here!”

The zombies, half blinded by the light, stumbled towards the shouts and were dropped in a line.

“All clear?” Faith asked, sticking her head around the hatch.

“Step away and we’ll see,” Steve said.

She moved back to his position and considered the darkened interior.

“We’re really going to have problems with adjustment,” she pointed out.

“I read an article where the reason that pirates wore eye patches was to keep one eye available for moving into darkness,” Steve said. “Go into a hold and switch it to the other eye.”

“I guess maybe we should have flip-up sunglasses or something?” Faith said.

“Maybe,” Steve said. “Zombies! Hello… ZOMBIES! Anybody home?”

“Zombies, zombies, zombies!” Faith yelled, banging on the deck with her crowbar.

“Ah, that’s got one,” Steve said as another zombie stumbled out into the light.

“Wait,” Faith said, dropping the crowbar and drawing her pistol. “We’ve still got more.45 than twelve gauge.”

“Point,” Steve said as she fired. “I was afraid you were going to use the crowbar.”

“Been there,” Faith said. “Prefer shooting them.”

“Let’s dog it again and check the bridge,” Steve said. “Then we’ll clear down from that.”

“Okay,” Faith said, shrugging. “Any particular reason?”

“More light up there?”

* * *

There was a zombie on the bridge. A well fed one. Which was explained by the two corpses also on the bridge.

“So…” Faith said, tilting her head. “One was wearing clothes. The other looks like he wasn’t…”

“Zombies eat each other,” Steve said. “Interesting factoid.”

“Whoops,” Faith said as a zombie came up the companionway. She fired and it tumbled back down. But there was sounds of more stumbling in the darkness below. “Think we’ve got a nest here, Da.”

“If we have to, retreat through the door,” Steve said, stepping next to her. Another headed up the companionway and he terminated it. The following zombie stumbled over that one and then started crawling up the stairs.

Faith let her Saiga fall on its sling and drew her.45. One shot to the head terminated that one.

“I think I’ve got this,” Faith said.

“I don’t think they were all crew,” Steve said, letting her take the shots. He had the Saiga up and pointed if any got past her. “This is too many for crew.”

“And there are women,” Faith said as she took one down.

“There are women in merchant marine,” Steve said. “But…yeah. I think they took on refugees.”

“Or family,” Faith said, pausing. “Da?”

“Got it,” Steve said, dropping his Saiga to its sling and killing the child zombie with one round of.45.

“I hate shooting the kids,” Faith said. She didn’t have any trouble with the male following.

“Here’s a puzzle,” Steve said, thoughtfully. “Zombie up here is dead and eaten. I’d see them killing the weakest first. Why did the child survive?”

“You’re asking me ?” Faith said. “That sounds like a Sophia question. I think it’s clear.”

“We certainly made enough noise,” Steve said. They’d given up on earplugs and his ears were ringing. “We’re going to go deaf with all this fire.”

“I’ll take deafness in old age over being eaten by zombies,” Faith said, shrugging. “Why are my ears ringing in rhythm?”

“Because that’s metal pinging on metal,” Steve said. “I think we got us a survivor.”

“ Another salvage operation ruined!” Faith said.

* * *

“Ah, jesus,” the man said, turning away from the taclights and holding up his arm.

“Sorry,” Steve said, turning the light away. The locker the survivor been hiding in had no portholes and the lights must have been like a nuke going off.

The survivor was skinny as a rail with long, shaggy hair and a beard that must have started out long and gotten longer. He was also wearing only a pair of shorts. If he hadn’t responded verbally to their bangs, Steve would have thought he was a zombie.

“I’m not going to be able to see for a day,” the man said. “Sorry, let me start again. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve said. He pulled a chemlight out of pouch and dropped it on the floor in the compartment. “Here’s some water,” he said, taking the bottle from Faith and getting it into the man’s hands. “We’re going to keep clearing and come back when we’re sure we can extract you safely. Just hang in there.”

“Not a problem,” the man said, taking a swig of the water with his eyes still closed. “God that’s good. God almighty that is sooo good.”

“Just hang in there,” Steve repeated. “We’ll be back.”

* * *

“This place is a maze,” Faith said, swinging her taclight around. “Do you know where we left that guy?”

“I think we’re going to have to find the bridge again and follow the trail of bodies,” Steve said, opening a hatch. He held his hand up to the descending sun and grimaced. “Okay, based on the bodies, this is where we first were…”

“Then the bridge ladder should be up and to the…left? Port, right?”

“Starboard,” Steve said. “See why that’s important on a boat?”

“Let’s just see if we can find that guy again…”

* * *

“Some of the guys brought their families,” the survivor said, pulling the blanket up as he sipped tomato soup. He still was wearing the sunglasses Faith had found for him. “We figured if we stayed at sea we could avoid it. Somebody, maybe a couple, were infected…”

The survivor’s name was Michael “Purplefly” Braito, deckhand and assistant engineer on the oceangoing tug Victoria’s Boss .

“Anybody else?” he asked, pushing up the sunglasses and grimacing.

“I didn’t hear any more banging,” Steve said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s clear . It was sort of a maze.”

“Not if you know it,” Braito said. “I could… Christ, I don’t want to back on but I could help you find your way around?”

“Tomorrow,” Steve said. “And we’re going to need to figure out some better protocols for boarding and clearing…”

* * *

“Okay, why didn’t we do this the first time?” Faith asked. She had a line clipped to her gear which was being belayed by Steve from the deck. She’d held a line from the dinghy as he’d climbed the ladder.

“Because I didn’t think about it,” Steve admitted as she cleared the railing. “Makes a lot of sense in retrospect.”

“So does marking everything,” Faith said, pulling out a can of spray paint. “We’re going to need more of this. Okay,” she continued, unclipping and throwing the line over the side. “Your turn, Fly.”

* * *

“Zombies, zombies, zombies?” Faith said, banging on the hatch with the butt of a knife. “Sounds clear, Da.”

“Open,” Steve said, taking a two-handed stance with his.45, covering the opening hatch. He’d picked up a head-lamp and had two more lights duct taped to his gear pointing forward.