John Ringo - Islands of Rage and Hope

“Walker?” Colonel Kuznetsov asked.

“All I think I should say is he was involved with U.S. Special Operations,” Troy replied. “I met him when I was with Joint Special Operations Command.”

“Sounds like just the man for a zombie apocalypse,” Dr. “Doc Gordie” Price said. The mission medic was an MD with specialties in diving and astronautic medicine and a Ph.D. in astrophysiology. “Any notable negative symptoms, yet?”

“I am rather missing microgravity,” Dr. Rizwana “Doc Riz” Shelley said. The Pakistani born physicist, a naturalized British citizen, was five foot four with black hair and light brown eyes. She had taken a sabbatical from her position with Reading University for the mission. She had Ph.D.s in astronomy, astrophysics, physics, nuclear physics, chemistry, biology, biochemistry and, notably, microbiology. She’d been a researcher in microbiology at Reading as well as a tenured professor. Besides assisting her husband, Thomas Shelley, on his experiments on the mission, she had been managing ongoing microbiology experiments on the ISS. “On the other hand, it has been some time since I’ve had a tropical vacation.”

“Be a while till we can get out and enjoy the breeze,” Dr. Price said.

“After six months, ten to fourteen more days I can do,” Varfolomei Matveev said. The mission engineer was five foot six with black hair and blue eyes. He was a former fighter pilot with the Russian Air Force as well as a rotary wing pilot with a degree in mechanical engineering. “Is it reasonable to be worried about the vaccine we’ve been promised?”

“Very,” Dr. Price said. “All we can hope is that there will be sufficient information to make a rational decision. Not that we have many choices in the matter.”

There was a bang on the capsule and it rocked slightly. The light from the hatch porthole cut off with finality. Fortunately, there were two more portholes. The interior lights had been shut off on landing to conserve batteries but there was plenty of reflected light. It was apparent that there was a truck or car shining its lights on the capsule.

“And I think the five-ton has landed,” Troy said. “Whatever happens, we’re definitely entering a brave new world.”

“I’m hoping for some news of home,” Rizwana said.

“From what little we were getting from Omaha, that is unlikely,” Commander Daniels said. “I’m sure we’ll get more information soon.”

“I’m just hoping for a cheeseburger,” Troy said. “I’d even take an MRE at this point.”

“That sounded like another shot,” Tom said.

“The island was certainly inhabited by infected,” Commander Daniels said. “We have to hope that a person with experience in special operations would have cleared it as thoroughly as possible.”

“Tape two PVC tubes running from the capsule to the top of the five-ton,” Walker said. “Then we’ll drape the sheets. Shewolf?”

“Still all good, sir,” Faith replied. “That was a dog. I authorized it to keep the area from getting messed up.”

“Good call, Shewolf,” Walker said. “Okay, let’s get the plastic up…”

“Ensign Smith, time to open the plastic…”

They’d pulled the contaminated canvas cover off, first, leaving only the plastic covering the back in place. They’d also laid plastic over the tailgate to keep contamination from entering the vehicle.

Decker carefully removed the plastic from the back of the five-ton and Sophia leaned over and looked in the hatch. There was barely any light in the interior but she could see some couches and figures.

“Sir,” she radioed. “Do they have lights in there? We can’t see a thing.”

“Stand by, Seawolf,” a voice said, breaking into the circuit. “ Retrans to the Dragon capsule coming up.”

“Hello. I’m the person knocking on your window. Ensign Sophia Smith, United States Navy. You guys ready to get out?”

“Take me to your leader,” Commander Daniels radioed, jokingly. “ Yes, we are prepared to exit. We can get the hatch open but we will need assistance exiting the capsule.”

“The United States Naval services have got you covered,” Sophia said. “I’ve got two hulking Marines ready to carry you out. Carefully. You guys got interior lights?”

“Coming on,” Daniels said, turning on the lights.

“Ouch,” Sophia said, blinking. The lights were bright to her dark-adjusted eyes. “Open the hatch. We’ve got plastic up to prevent contamination.”

There was another shot in the distance.

“What is the security situation?” Daniels asked.

“Don’t worry,” Sophia said. “My sister’s got that covered.”

“Sister?” Daniels said as the hatch popped open.

“It’s a long story,” Sophia said, sticking her head in the hatch. “Youngest Marine lieutenant in history and a pain in the ass. But she’s got killing infected down.”

There were seven cuplike blue couches arranged in two layers with aluminum foot rests at the end of each.

“Do these footrests fold down?” Sophia asked, clambering into the chamber.

One of the space-suited figures waved, then tapped his helmet.

“What?” Sophia asked, raising her hands, then realized that the previous conversation had been bounced from one of the subs. The crew could, presumably, retrans through a radio on the capsule. But when she entered, her radio was cut off. “Son of a bitch. Decker, can you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Decker replied.

“You will repeat my words to the subs,” Sophia said. “Repeat this exactly. Retrans sub. This is Seawolf. My commo is cut off in here.”

“Retrans sub, this is Seawolf, my commo is cut off in here,” Decker parroted.

“Staff Sergeant Decker will repeat.”

“Staff Sergeant Decker will repeat.”

She waited a moment for the process to be figured out.

“Is there a way to drop these footrests, over?”

“Roger. There is a latch. Slide the latch upwards while pushing upwards on the footrest,” Decker said after a moment.

She picked one of the lower couches and dropped the footrest. Then she leaned over and undid the straps.

“Decker, repeat: You can all undo your own straps…I’m going to exit the vessel and let Staff Sergeant Decker and PFC Condrey take over. Decker: Do not repeat. Get in here so I can show you how this works…”

They barely had enough room for all the stretchers. And the threesome had to more or less balance over the crew. But they finally had all of them out.

Sophia shut the hatch on the capsule and then she and Decker got the plastic back in place.

“Mr. Walker, we’ve got the plastic up and taped on this side,” Sophia said. “Need you to handle the rest.”

“Roger,” Walker said . “Check to see how much air they have left. And check the connections on their air bottles. See if ours will work.”

“I’m not sure how to even talk to them,” Sophia said. “Their radio was in the capsule.”

“Put the face of your silver suit against their visor and shout,” Walker said.

“Roger,” Sophia replied.

She bent down over one of the figures, she wasn’t sure which was who, and placed her visor on theirs.

“HOW MUCH AIR DO YOU HAVE?”

“TEN MINUTES!” the man replied. It was faint but he had a Slavic accent.

“Ten minutes, sir,” Sophia radioed.