“No!” Carl realized what was happening. “Go back!” he shouted at the group on the ground. “Go back!” he fumbled for the button to his communications network. “Go back!”
A large explosion rocked the building and a plume of smoke and dust erupted from the stairwell. The shockwave shattered windows, and civilians screamed in terror.
“Shit!” Pam yelled. “Go back!” She added her voice to Carl’s.
More voices took up their plea. “Go back! Go back!” They shouted, realizing the stairwell had been destroyed and there was no way to reach the roof.
With sinking hope, Carl stared at his men, just over three quarters of the way across the parking lot, slow, stop, and turn back toward Building One. They drew their rifles and spent the last of their ammunition firing wildly into the swarm of oncoming ghouls. Carl watched the legion of undead converge on the small band of survivors from every direction.
“No… god DAMN it… NO!” Carl drew his pistol and emptied his clip into the sea of death.
The scream of the first victim rang through the power plant. An old woman had barely made it half way to Building Two before turning back around. A ghoul tackled her, and four more were on top of her before she could plead for help. A second person tripped and disappeared beneath a pile of undead. A convoy soldier’s rifle ran dry, and he was trying to club one zombie away when another slammed into him from behind and knocked him to the ground.
Kelly could not watch the tragic scene that played out, so she turned her gaze towards Carl. His eyes, locked on the scene, read of absolute disbelief. His shoulders were slumped in defeat.
“No…” he gasped.
Gunfire from the roof ceased as the screams from the ground fell silent. The only sounds now, were the rolling din of undead and the hum of distant helicopter blades.
“We’re safe for the time being. The stairwell is collapsed. Save your ammo,” Holt shouted to his men. He walked over to Carl, and put a hand on the convoy leader’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Kelly felt for the cellular phone she kept in her pocket. She flipped it open, looked at the blank screen, and hurled it into the night in anger. She wanted so badly to talk to her husband. Her soul was bruised, and seeing Carl’s face was too much to bear. She sunk to the ground trembling. She had seen a lot of horror in the past year — but the sight of the strong soldier’s tears was something that would be burned into her memory.
Hours passed and helicopters took to the air with load after load of civilians and soldiers. No one spoke. The notion on everyone’s mind was unspeakable, and on the verge of salvation, yet, more people had lost their lives. Eventually, all that remained was the convoy team, a handful of marines, and Kelly.
“We’re up.” Pam offered Kelly her hand.
Kelly stood up and began walking toward the helicopter. She took her seat and buckled in. The aircraft rose into the air, and Kelly looked out over the eastern horizon. A surreal sense of sorrow overcame her. The lights of civilization had always made for a bright and beautiful California night, but now there was only darkness. With the demise of the San Onofre nuclear power plant, all of Southern California was now cloaked in blackness.
As the helicopter made its way over the ocean, the lights of the U.S.S. Boxer came into view. A crowd of hopeful civilians rung the landing pad, and Kelly Damico unclamped her seat belt once the aircraft had landed. She stepped onto the ship and looked around, the weight of her thoughts dulling the commotion around her.
Suddenly, someone burst through the crowd and ran towards her. A moment of panic passed before she recognized the man she had not seen in almost a year; Henry Damico. Kelly met her husband’s embrace, and her eyes welled with tears as she kissed him passionately.
The two figures stood framed in the lights of the landing pad. The crowd slowly became fixated on the Damicos and their loving embrace. Silence first fell over the ship. Then the quiet sound of applause rose, until the entire deck was roaring with clapping and cheering. Everyone in the fleet had endured loss and said good-bye to someone they would never see again. Reunions were rare, but their meaning was not lost. As bad as things were, there was still hope.
Chapter 31
Five military Hummers secured with ratchet clamps sat on the port side of the U.S.S. Boxer. Their battered armor bore the scars of a year of service. A rear passenger door of one of the Humvees quietly swung open, and Nicole stepped onto the ship. The cool night felt amazing.
“Come on, honey,” Nicole whispered to her son.
Vince had been good. He’d endured a full day of roasting inside the vehicle and remaining quiet, as he had been instructed.
“Mommy, I don’t feel good.” Vince slid out of the vehicle and onto the deck of the ship.
“Come on, sweetie. I’ll get you something to drink.” Nicole picked her son up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His skin felt cold and clammy, and she could tell he was feeling lethargic. He needed food, water, and a good night’s sleep. If he was still not feeling well tomorrow, she’d look for a doctor to check him out.
She gently closed the Humvee door and looked around for a civilian group to blend into. A large crowd was moving across the flight deck from the helicopter landing pad, and she began to head in their direction. It would be a simple matter to act as if she belonged — any hiccups could be explained away.
“I’m here, aren’t I? Of course, I was screened! I washed the ink off as soon as I arrived, I didn’t think I needed it anymore.” She crafted her story in her mind as she walked. “My son’s hand? He cut it on some glass… He’s fine. They checked everyone at San Onofre. He was cleared just like everyone else. Do you think we’d be here if a doctor hadn’t cleared us?”
Suddenly her heart stopped in her chest, and a chill of terror ran up her spine. Nicole turned sharply, and began walking in the opposite direction. Dr. Kelly Damico, no more than ten feet away from her, walked hand in hand with a dark-haired man.
Nicole cursed herself for not being smart enough to anticipate the possibility that she might run into Kelly Damico. Kelly would recognize her, realize that she and Vince had not been screened, and would know they should not have access to the fleet.
“Excuse me! Miss? Miss?” A voice called after her.
Nicole’s mind raced. She wanted to take her son, hide, and hope Kelly would forget all about her, but she was caught. There was nothing she could do but pray she and Vince would not be sent back to the mainland. Panic washed over her as she turned around to face Kelly.
A young woman in a navy uniform stood before her, smiling. “Miss, can I help you to housing?”
Nicole stood speechless. The civilian crowd had begun to disappear into the flight tower, and Kelly was nowhere to be seen.
“Are you okay, Miss?” The navy woman asked.
“Housing?” Nicole mustered meekly.
“Follow me, Miss.” The cadet smiled, turned, and walked toward the flight tower.
Nicole trailed behind, Vince in hand, scanning the area for any sign of Kelly. Nicole was a civilian, and civilians went wherever this navy woman was taking her. She would have to keep alert for Dr. Kelly Damico.
They entered the flight tower and descended several sets of stairs. They continued through a hallway that led to a huge storage bay. Nicole could scarcely believe a ship could have a room so enormous. A long fence adorned with thousands of car air fresheners stretched the entire length of the ship. Behind the fence were countless office cubicles, their tops covered by tarps, their entrances covered with sheets. Several hundred men, women, and children milled about within. The scent of synthetic strawberries and mint failed to subdue the stench of body odor mixed with mildew.