Under a Graveyard Sky

“There is no such thing as overkill,” Faith said. “There is only ‘Open Fire’ and ‘Reloading!’ That that never caught on as a bigger meme than LOLKATZ just says it all about people…”

“Hush,” Steve said. “Continue, Sergeant.”

“I’d suggest a whistle.”

“Makes sense,” Hooch said. “May I suggest, with due respect, that the Commodore handle that?”

“Bite me,” Faith said, shaking her head. “It all worked out okay. But, yeah, Da can get his little whistle. You be coach.”

“Will do,” Steve said. “More, sergeant?”

“We probably should take some time and sit down with Chris and discuss the layout of this place. We should have known that door would lead to an arena. I mean, we could have gone back on deck, called him and asked him. He might not have known exactly but he probably would have had some idea. Also, and we should probably cross check this, it makes sense that the lifeboat hatches would open on large gathering areas. Thus another reason for the seven six two.”

“I’m fairly terrified of bouncers around all this steel,” Steve said. “I admit that’s because I caught one myself upon a time. But rifle rounds just keep going.”

“Again, in this type of environment,” Fontana said, waving around. “This deck is fairly smooth walled. We should be able to fire, paralllel to the ship, without fear of bouncers. We’ll have to retreat outside before engaging with rifles.”

“Rifles and these?” Hooch said, patting the Saiga. “We’re already fairly Ramboed up as it is.”

“No,” Fontana said. “We’ll have to either use the rifles in close or use pistols on the retreat.”

“Two sets,” Steve said. “You and I will take the AKs. I’ve trained with them almost exclusively since I got out and fell in love with the bloody things. Hooch and Faith will maintain the Saigas despite Hooch’s discomfort with the reload. They will cover on retreat to exterior with us as back-up if necessary, then we’ll switch roles. And we’ll rehearse it, first.”

“That sounds like a plan, sir,” Fontana said.

CHAPTER 30

“Back on the Campbell,” Gardner said nervously. She had a 10mm and a shotgun the Smiths had “borrowed” when the cleared the cutter. And they’d searched the whole ship for infected. But getting back on the ship was giving her flashbacks.

The ship was being towed by a submarine of all things. They’d taken a 24ft inflatable to make the rendezvous and pick up critical medical supplies. Everything else could wait until it was in place near the liner.

“It’ll be okay, PO,” Seaman Jeff Woodman said. “We just get the saline and go.”

“Easy enough,” Gardner said. She keyed open the deck hatch, started to step across the coaming the stopped. “What the hell?”

The floor was swarming with black bugs. There were so many it looked like the deck was black and moving.

“Oh…gross!” Woodman said. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Jesus Christ,” Gardner said, quietly.

“What?” Woodman asked. She was shining a light into the interior. He craned his head around to look.

On the deck was a skeleton. Some of the bugs seemed to be fighting for the last scraps of flesh but pretty much everything but bone and some scraps of skin and hair were gone. Bugs were even crawling in and out of the eye sockets, cleaning out the brains.

“Holy crap,” Woodman said, “I don’t want those getting on me!”

“I just figured out what they are,” Gardner said, stepping through the hatch after a flash around with her light. Every step caused a crunch. “And they won’t bite.”

“They stripped that guy to the bone!” Woodman said.

“That’s what they do,” Gardner said, bending down and picking up one of the beetles. It skittered along her arm and she shook it off. “They’re carrion beetles.”

“Carrion?” Woodman said. “So they eat people?”

“They eat dead flesh,” Gardner said. “I’d heard Wolf say he’d ‘seeded’ the boat. I didn’t know it was with these.”

“Wolf did this?” Woodman said angrily. “To our people?”

“Six of us came off, Woodie,” Gardner said softly. “Ninety-four and twenty-six refugees didn’t. You’ve carried bodies. You know how heavy they are. Now…they’re not.”

“That’s horrible,” Woodman said.

“No,” Gardner said, flashing her light around. “It’s efficient, simple and brutal. It’s Wolf all over if you think about it. These things only eat dead flesh. They may get into some of the electronics but those are mostly thrashed by the infecteds, anyway. It cleans the boat out of the main issue, the dead meat on the dead people. If we ever get around to clearing this out, all we’ll have to do is bag the bones.”

“We won’t know who’s who,” Woodman said.

“Does it matter?” Gardner said. “There’s a big thing, it’s called an ossory, in France. All the guys who died in a certain battle in World War One. They buried them, waited for bugs like this to do their work, then dug them back up. All of certain bones are on the left, all the others are on the right and the skulls are in the middle.”

She picked up the skull of the former Coast Guard crewman and looked at it as beetles poured out.

“I don’t know who you were but you were my brother,” Gardner said. “This way, I know I can give you a decent burial. And I will remember you. Now, we’ve got a mission to complete, Woodman, and people waiting on us. Live people. Let the dead bury the dead.”

* * *

Chris hadn’t known the boat like the back of his hand, but he’d been able to determine the areas on the other side of several of the doors. The one they’d chosen was the “lobby” area between the, yes, bloody damned skating rink and the even more bloody damned “four hundred person theater.” Steve was starting to think that whoever had conceived this bloody beast had more megalomania than Napoleon.

About half the doors were to stairwells to the passenger cabins. Steve was torn between wanting to clear the major areas and concentrate on the passenger cabins. But the way their fire had to be echoing in this ship the passengers surely knew they were on the way. And he wasn’t sure he yet wanted to clear stairwells possibly filled with zombies.

“We’ll open and attract from, not clear, this area,” Steve said. “Then the theatre. Then start on the passenger zones.”

“Roger, sir,” Fontana said, shaking his head at the pile of ammo boxes. They’d gotten boats alongside and brought up more people including some “trained” seamen who were willing to go into “non zombie” areas. With their help they’d brought all the ammo up onto the deck well away from the zombie bodies. Steve had also had them bring up some of his “little friends” and they had been scattered on the bodies. And gotten a bite to eat and rehydrated. Time to get back to work.

The outer doors were already open. Faith checked the door, shook her head, put away the stethoscope, then pulled out the Halligan tool. This time Fontana and Hooch were on either side of the door, ready to pull.

Steve swiped, then pulled back to cover.

Faith popped the door, stepped back and started to put the tool on the deck. But there seemed like time so she stowed it away in its holster.

Steve realized that they’d made a mistake. Not a major one but a mistake. He either should have had Faith take one of the rifles or have Fontana handle the Halligan. The shotgunners were the first line of defense with the riflemen backing them. It was a minor point. There was, again, silence and darkness on the far side of the hatch.

The foresome lined up in the hatch and Steve lifted the whistle and blew.

Again there was a guttural howling from the interior. They immediately started to back up and were to the exterior hatch before the first zombie appeared.

“Wait,” Steve said, taking the shot.

“I thought you said shotgun in here?” Faith complained.