To Sail a Darkling Sea

“Looks like a trip to the Money is in my future,” Januscheitis said. “Based on the LT’s reaction, I don’t think I’ll have a hard time getting a date.”

“I can just see it now,” Faith said. “Marines cruising the harbor, voucher in hand. ‘Would you like a Paris original? There are try outs. .’ What is it with guys?”

“There’s a very long explanation,” Fontana said. “And there’s the short one. Which do you want?”

“You sound like Da,” Faith said. “And I know the long one. Da put me through the lecture in various forms, getting a bit more specific each time, from about the time I was ten. The gene is selfish. Males are broadcast procreators, women are conservative. Males want to breed with as many women as possible, at least reasonably high quality ones in terms of breeding, since that’s the best way to spread their genes. Women want the optimum single male. I can talk about it in more detail if you really want. With hand gestures and a diagram if somebody wants to find me a white board.”

“I think we’ll pass,” Wilkes said. “Thank you, Faith.”

“Seriously, ever seen zombies going at it?” Faith said. “I have. Not sure I’m up for that, thanks.”

“Complete change of subject before we get even deeper in the dunny:” Fontana said, “I think the spa op went well.”

“Sure cleared it in record time,” Faith said. “Not even one scrum. Sort of disappointing.”

“I’m not so sure,” Janu said. “Sorry, sir. The multi point entry was… We nearly had some serious blue on blue. I think we could have done a single point entry and been okay. Pot’s light.”

“Kinda agree, kinda disagree, Jan,” Fontana said. “I think it would have been a nightmare with hajis. But you Marines have gotten pretty good at on-point targeting. Even with a little range.”

“Don’t think so,” Gunny Sands said. “God damn accuracy is going to shit with all this short range shit. We need some range time to dial those Marines in. Preferably a KD. Three.”

“And there speaketh a Marine Gunny,” Fontana said, laughing. “One shot, one kill or it’s a no-go.”

“And the problem with that is?” Sands asked.

“Barbie guns,” Faith said. “Unless you get a head shot, you’re not going to knock down a zombie with a Barbie gun, Gunny, one shot, one kill, even in the heart. They just squirt more. Sometimes I gotta use two or three with my Haji. And I don’t know when we’re going to be fighting at long range. Even when we were clearing the towns we were mostly fighting at under a hundred yards. Okay, so we’re supposed to clear Gitmo. There might be some places where we are going to fire at over a hundred yards, there. I dunno. But we’ve got the MGs for that, right? Mostly we’re going to be doing what we’ve been doing for a long time. I mean, what are we going to clear on the mainland, if we ever get there?”

“You think we’ll clear on the mainland?” Wilkes asked. “That will be… I mean, we’re going to get swarmed.”

“Da doesn’t say what his plan is beyond Gitmo,” Faith said. “But his goal is clearing the US and getting clearance started on places like Europe and Asia. How he’s going to do it, I dunno. And he won’t say. Except that he knows there’s not enough bullets in the world so it won’t be bang-bang shoot a gazillion zombies. That’s what he said when I asked him are we going to just shoot ’em up. ‘Not enough bullets in the world. Cross that bridge when we come to it.’ ”

“Maybe the mechanicals?” Fontana said.

“I could see that for port cities,” Wilkes said. “Anybody know how that’s going?”

“According to Seawolf, you don’t want to sail into the south harbor,” Volpe said. “Three mechanicals and the sharks are rolling to the surface with full bellies and even the seagulls are just sitting on the bodies.”

“That’s gotta suck,” Jan said.

“And they’re fabbing more on the Grace right now,” Volpe said. “You can see ’em working on them.”

“About the clearance and accuracy issue?” Wilkes said.

“Whatever Da uses, there’s going to be stuff to be cleared. Buildings. Sky scrapers… ”

“I just sort of winced at clearing a skyscraper,” Jan said. “Then I realized that one of these damned supermax is just one on its side.”

“Which is why you should wince,” Fontana said. “Cause there’s a lot more skyscrapers in the world than supermax cruise ships.”

“Okay, now I’m getting a long-range picture,” Wilkes said, shaking his head. “Jesus. Clearing New York.”

“Fuck,” Jan said, closing his eyes and bowing his head. “Fuck a freaking duck. We’re gonna need a lot of Marines. These things are seriously a battalion objective. How many batts to clear New York?”

“Well, be that as it may, Miss Faith,” the Gunny said. “They had damned well be able to shoot. That’s a damned requirement to be a Marine. You gotta be able put the bullets on target. Whatever kind of bullets you’re using.”

“Agreed, Gunny,” Faith said. “But I’m just wondering if concentrating on five hundred and a thousand yards is a good idea. I mean… Sophia’s a hell of a shot with a long rifle. Did you know that?”

“No,” Wilkes said, leaning back.

“She took long distance competitions in her age group back home,” Faith said. “But give her twenty zombies coming at her, she’ll nail five. Maybe three. I’ll nail fifteen. I took the tac competitions in my age group. Including, yeah, zombie tac comps. You know I own a Barbie gun? Well, my Da owned it but it was mine. Sweet trick-out with an Aimpoint and hundred round Beta C. Used to smoke zombie comps which are all head shots at under fifty yards. On the other hand, those zombies moved slow and they weren’t shoving into each other and moving their heads back and forth. And they’d fall down go boom with one shot. I’ve seen infected keep coming after you shot them in the head with a Barbie gun.”

“Where is it?” Fontana asked.

“Back home in the safe,” Faith said. “We loaded out what we needed, not what we had. Some fucker probably broke into it, too. People knew we were preppers. Point is… I can see where you’re going, Gunny. You want Marines to be accurate. I want Marines to be able to put down zombies in compartments and corridors, fast and accurate.”

“Unlike certain pilots,” Lieutenant Volpe said, grinning.

“Okay, this time I’m going to make the point,” Wilkes said, shaking his head and grinning. “Yeah, pilot, okay? Gimme a Seacobra and a 20 and I’ll show you who’s the boss, Mike.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Pilot, sir,” Volpe said, saluting.

“I wonder if that’s the plan?” Fontana said.

“What?” Faith said.

“Okay, your ‘Da’ has hinted that he needed a pilot,” Fontana said. “In fact, remember when we were clearing the Iwo and he was sort of pissed that there were no survivors in the pilot’s quarters.”

“Didn’t need to be reminded of that, Tom,” Wilkes said. “Those were my friends.”

“Sorry, sir,” Fontana said. “But he’s been practically biting his nails for pilots. Helo pilots. So maybe… hover a helo then blow them away with 20 when they cluster?”

“Oh, please, God, yes,” Wilkes said. “If there is a loving God, yes.”

“Not enough 20 in a LHD,” the Gunny said. “Not even in a pre-po. Not for the whole mainland.”

“Finding a pre-po would be sweet,” Volpe said.

“Pre-po?” Faith said.

“Pre-positioned support ship,” Fontana said. “Just a big roll-on roll-off freighter, sort of like a ferry, that’s filled with all sorts of goodies.”

“All the material support needed for a Marine Expeditionary Unit and thirty days of combat,” Wilkes said.

“Sweet is right,” Faith said. “Where do we get one of those?”

“Norfolk,” Sands said. “There was one tied alongside and there was no plan to punch it. Or Blount Island where the MPF ships are unloaded and reloaded. The truth is, we got more ammo and supplies on the Iwo than we got Marines to use it.”