Under a Graveyard Sky

bomber. I was standing about ten feet from her. Facing her, sir. They…picked parts of her out of my face at Walter Reed, sir.” He pointed to an odd bump on his face. “Then again, parts of her are still with me, sir. They believe it is a portion of a tooth. My wife had beautiful teeth.”

“Holy fuck, Ellington,” Brice whispered. “That wasn’t in your service report. Just that you’d been hit by an IED in Iraq.”

“That was personal rather than professional,” Ellington said with a shrug. “She essentially shielded me from the blast. I survived. She did not. It was tough, but we’d arranged to be on the same team, doing analysis of the Iraqi WMD program. She was commanding the security team. She was always…” His face tightened and he breathed hard.

“I am a Marine officer. I am versed in combat. But she was the warrior, sir, General. I was, am, a geek. I can fight. I have proven that. I have direct combat action in Iraq. But she was the warrior of us, Mr. Under Secretary, General Brice. She was our warrior half. Colonel Pierre, my wife was an Army officer. I would not prevent that young lady’s career in the Marines in any way. She would make a fine Marine. I would also not be upset if she chose the Army. Some Marines might. But I have known the warrior women of the Army and they are fine warriors. Honorable and courageous warriors, all.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Pierre said. “I wish I had met her in my career. Mr. Under Secretary, a serious suggestion?”

“Yes?” Galloway said.

“I would recommend that a recording of this be downloaded to all the still in contact submarines,” Pierre said. “There is damned little, currently, to build morale. Perhaps put it together with earlier bits such as Miss Smith’s response to her father’s question about back-up plans.”

“That, Colonel, is a really sensible suggestion,” Galloway said. “Commander, can we do that bandwidth wise?”

“Not an issue, sir,” Freeman said. “And, yes, I’d agree it’s an excellent idea. It sure as hell raised my morale.”

“Let’s hope her father is as heartened,” General Brice said. “I’m betting he hits the roof.”

* * *

“You okay, Faith?” Steve said, clearing the landing ladder. You couldn’t walk on the deck for all the bodies. He literally had to jump into an open ribcage to get off the ladder. When he’d gotten into contact with Sophia she’d been really noncommittal about how things were going. “Faith’s still there. No bites.” Now he knew why.

“No worries, Da,” Faith said, shrugging. She was absolutely covered in blood. “Fair dinkum scrum. Hooch handled it just fine.”

Hocieniec’s gear, while blood-splattered, was splattered, not covered. For that matter, parts of Faith’s heavy battle gear were torn. There were teeth marks everywhere. And she had some knives missing from their sheathes. And her machete was on the deck, bent. And her Halligan tool had matted brain matter and hair on it. It was long and blond and for a second Steve wondered if she’d somehow ripped some of her own hair out with it. Except hers was thoroughly covered by her gear.

“Trixie got a little messed up,” Faith said, reaching back to pat the teddy bear. “Trixie’s going to need a nice hot bath after this, isn’t she? Trixie says she got a little frightened but she’ll be okay. She shut her eyes during the bad parts.”

Steve had seen enough zombies dead from wounds at this point for a twenty-year career. And he knew wounds even before this apocalypse. Zombies were cut, smashed, bashed in heads, all the shot wounds had speckling around them from close or direct contact shots. Angles were insane on some of them. Shots down into the shoulder, which could only be done from…

“Okay,” he said. “No worries. Thanks for holding the high ground. You need to take a breather for a bit?”

“What I need to do is ammo up,” Faith said. “But I think most of my mags are so…messed up that they sort of need to be cleaned first. And I’m down to less than one mag of Saiga.”

“Pistol?” Steve asked.

“Uh, I’m down to three rounds.”

“I think that Fontana and I will hold this position while you go wash down your gear and ammo back up. Can you keep going? Seriously?”

“Try to hold me back, Da.”

* * *

“These doors are locked,” Fontana said, pulling at the hatch. The massive construction was one of the doors to the lifeboat deck and it was positively unwilling to open. A halligan tool wasn’t going to scratch it.

“Crap,” Steve said, looking around. “That means another pass card hunt.”

“Isn’t this Chris’s boat?” Fontana said. “Does he still have his?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, keying his radio. “Sophia, all the exterior hatches we’ve found are locked down. Call Chris and ask him if he still has his pass key or whatever for the boat. And tell him we’re probably going to need his help finding our way around. Dallas, you monitoring?”

“Roger, Wolf actual.”

“Tell the Coasties as soon as they get here they’re to coordinate the evacuation teams. These people are going to need wheelchairs, stretchers, something. And right now getting them off the boat is going to be a professional evolution. They’ll need to primarily provide expertise and security. We’ll clear the zones, then they can come in and get the people. Copy?”

“Coast guard personnel to organize evacuation and maintain security presence, Wolf teams to clear.”

“Roger,” Steve said. “As soon as we can get a master key or something.”

* * *

“Wolf, Dallas, over.”

“Go ahead, Dallas,” Steve said.

“Retransing a call from the David Cooper, over.”

“Go ahead retrans,” Steve said.

“Wolf, Chris. Got in position to observe. First of all, you know this was my ship, over.”

“Roger, over,” Steve said. “What can you tell us, over?”

“Good luck. The Voyage is one of the largest liners in the world. Getting into it was only the first problem. The Staff Side Acting First intended to do a complete lockdown after all lifeboats were away. A complete lockdown closes and locks all interior doors and hatches including room doors in both directions. The only way to override it is from the central control, with the right codes or correct passkey, or using passkeys locally. Then it gets complicated. I’ve sent my key over for Faith to bring over to you. But it will only open certain internal common doors and doors specifically related to my job. I can move in all common staff areas and in all the kitchen and supply areas. It won’t, for most important example, open cabins. There was no reason a chef should have unrestricted access to the cabins.”

“Buggers,” Steve muttered.

“You’re going to have to hunt for a senior Staff side officer’s key… Standby.”

“Roger,” Steve said, looking at Fontana with a quizzical look. There’d been something in Chris’s voice.

“I didn’t really talk about leaving…” Chris said. “Or about before, much… By some sort of horrible coincidence you boarded right where I left. There was a…break… Standby, please. Sorry, Wolf…”

“Take your time, Chris,” Steve said.

“Steve, Paula, breaking in.”

“Go, Paula.”

“Look for the body or remains or clothing of a female senior staff side officer in that area,” Paula said. “First name is Gwinneth, don’t recall last, Third Officer, Staff side. Last seen directly opposite boarding area of Lifeboat Twenty-Six.”

“Cooper again,” Chris said. “With that key you’ll be able to access all