John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

Low did not mean flush to the waterline. It was well above Fontana’s reach while standing on the deck of the fifteen foot, center console, inflatable.

“No offense but I’m not going to step up on the pontoons,” Fontana said, looking up at the zombies. They weren’t howling or keening, but they were drooling.

“Not with those down there,” Steve said, gesturing to the now familiar sharks.

A wave caught the inflatable and pushed it closer to the ship. As it did, one of the infecteds saw its chance and jumped over the low side-rail with a shriek.

Keeping your feet on a small boat was a skill that everyone in the flotilla had mastered at this point. And Fontana had spent two months on an even smaller raft before being rescued. He easily backed away as Steve reversed to avoid the zombie. But it had leapt well out and still managed to sprawl face down on the foredeck of the boat.

Fontana stepped forward and cut down as the zombie was pushing itself to its feet. There was a sound very similar to a frozen melon being hit by a large knife.

“That’s one,” Fontana said, levering the machete out of the infected’s head.

“It’s times like this I wonder how my children are doing…” Steve said.

* * *

“How do you like being back on the Endeavor , Hooch?” Sophia said, sitting down at the dinette.

“Better than a liferaft, skipper,” Hooch said.

“I can’t believe Da stuck me on this tub,” Faith said, crossing her arms. “Especially with you .”

“Is that seditious speech I hear out of you?” Sophia said. “That’s lashing round the fleet.”

“You and what army, Tiny?” Faith said. “Try it and while I won’t exactly mutiny, you’re going to have to learn to swim really hard.”

“So, what’s the op?” Hooch asked, quickly.

“General clearance,” Sophia said. “There are plenty of boats that can and do pick up life-rafts and life-boats. Those that have survivors, about one in ten, they just pick ’em up. Like, say, you. Which was what we were on before. But when they spot boats like, well, this, most of them don’t have the guns…”

“… Or the guts,” Faith said, picking at her fish.

“Or the experience or the, yeah, guts to go clear them,” Sophia said. “Which is where you come in.”

“Roger, skipper.”

“ Skipper ,” Faith said, under her breath. “Heh.”

“Faith,” Sophia said. “You can cop attitude in front of my crew. They all know us. You can even do it with Hooch. Hooch, we’re sisters, that’s all this is.”

“No, I get it, skip,” Hooch said. “I’ve got two sisters and they…” He stopped and his face worked.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sophia said, frowning. “We really… Our family is the only family that hasn’t lost people to the plague. It’s hard for us to truly understand. But… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s…” Hooch shrugged. “I’m not going to count them as lost until I can’t find ’em, skip. Simple as that. But about the two of you. It’s sort of…comforting. Listening to sisters argue is sort of like being back home. Doesn’t bother me.”

“I get it,” Sophia said. “But, Faith, don’t give me crap, at least at first, if we find survivors. If there’s an emergency, I don’t want them doubting my orders. I can’t have that. We can’t have that. Okay?”

“You and what army?” Faith repeated. “Yeah, yeah, got it.”

“Seriously.”

“I said I got it,” Faith snapped. “What is it about ‘got it’ you don’t understand?”

“You can just feel the love,” Paula said, laughing.

“I just love you so much, sis,” Faith said. “You’re just the biggest baddest captain of a dinghy in the whole fleet!”

“I sooo want to rename it Minnow ,” Sophia said. “Next time we get time, I swear. But it’s mine, all mine.”

“The captain she was a mighty sailing man,” Paula caroled. “The mate, that’s me, was brave and true…”

“Hey!” Patrick called from the helm. “I thought I was the mate?”

“We’re all mates,” Sophia said. “Well, actually, I think me and Paula are sheilas.”

“God, I hope so,” Hooch said. “Cause you look like sheilas. And one deployment to Okinawa was enough…”

“Hydrocarbons, sure enough,” Gardner said. Her voice was barely audible between the silver suits they were wearing and the air-pak. She knew this so she tapped Fontana on the shoulder and made sure he saw the blinking indicator. “Take off your mask in here and you’re going to hit the deck, fast.”

“No worries,” Steve shouted. “The same could be said for the zombies. There is some good news.”

“And one spark and we’re going to go sky high,” Fontana noted. He used his hand to bang on the next hatch. “Anybody home?”

There was an answering banging, regular not frenzied like zombies.

“I knew we forgot something,” Steve said. “Spare air.”

“How many!” Fontana shouted. He put his ear to the hatch to hear the reply. “I think they’re saying four.”

“Stand by here,” Steve said. “I’ll take Gardner back to the ship. But I’m not sure how to… We’d have to fit them…”

“They must have a clear, or reasonably clear, air supply in there,” Gardner said. “And if there are females, they’re probably pregnant. Not good to have them exposed. I suggest we run blowers down here and clear out this passage, then extract them.”

“And we get blowers, where?” Fontana asked.

“There are some on the cutter,” Gardner said.

“Which we already had to do a six hour run up to and a seven hour run back,” Steve said. He was either going to have to figure out how to tow the damned thing or strip it soon. That was one of his nagging issues.

“It’s a supply ship,” Fontana said. “Would they have some?”

“We can try to ask,” Steve said.

“Do you have blowers?” Fontana said. “Blowers! Where are the blowers? If they’re answering I can’t hear. They’re saying something…”

“We passed an aid station,” Gardner said, pointing back the way they came.

“Which would have blowers?” Steve said.

“No,” Gardner said. “But it might have a stethoscope .”

* * *

Fontana ripped off his mask and leaned into the hatch.

“Where do you have air blowerthisairyoucan’tbreatheitwhereARETHEAIRBLOWERS!”

“OW!” Gardner snapped, holding her ears that the stethoscope was inserted into. “That hurt!”

Fontana quickly redonned his mask and took a deep breath.

“Wow, that really is foul.”

Gardner waved a hand for silence as she listened.

“Ask them if they said ‘locker by engineering’?” She pulled the stethoscope away from the hatch and covered it with her hand.

“LOCKER BY ENGINEERING?” Fontana shouted through his mask.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Gardner said, nodding and taking off the stethoscope. “Okay, you can bellow as loud as you want, now.”

* * *

“You got a clue how to use these?” Steve asked, looking at the fans and big coiled duct stuff. Mechanical wasn’t his gift any more than singing.

“As a matter of fact I do,” Gardner said. “But I’ll need some help moving them. Ooo, ooo, My. Poor. Pregnant. Back.”

“There’s a reason Sadie is back on the Large ,” Fontana said.

* * *

In the end, Gardner did pretty much all the work but the toting. And in thirty minutes, they had the blowers evacuating and replacing the air in the corridors to the survivor compartment.

“How long?” Steve asked, looking at the descending sun. It wasn’t red. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad sign. A bad sign was if the dawn was red.