Extinction Level Event Combo Pack | Books 1-2, page 53
part #1 of Extinction Level Event Combo Pack Series
He had tattoos. In addition to Chinese symbols on his upper arms, a multi-colored dragon graced his chest above his heart.
Mazy asked, “Don’t the Chinese and Japanese hate each other?”
“Totally. The Japanese, because they think they’re superior to everyone else. But the Chinese hatred of the Japanese comes from World War Two. My grandparents were victims of the Japanese.”
“Grandparents?” Ben raised a brow.
“My parents immigrated to the United States when they just got married. My father worked for a company with a branch here. That’s why we all speak Mandarin. Some Cantonese, but not from our parents.”
“So.” Ben sat up. “You are really Chinese then?”
“Yeah, so to speak. I’m American. I’m born here.”
“But you know what I mean. Culturally.”
“Oh, yeah. Chinese New Year is as big as Christmas in our house.” His eyes turned sad. His gaze drifted off from them. Memories and loss.
“Are we done eating?” Phebe said, recognizing the look.
“What’s your rush?” Peter asked.
“Should I just sit here and stare at all the man-chests?”
“We could charge her,” Ben said.
“I think we should,” responded Matt.
Peter opened his mouth to say something to her, then closed it. Too many people.
“Are we gonna rewire the lights?” Eric asked.
“We’ll worry about interior lights later,” Peter answered.
Chris returned, unhappy with the population inside. He took his seat.
“Are we mounting one of the fifty cals on the Molly?” asked Eric.
“We’re working on it,” said Matt. “We can’t just bolt it to the bow. It’ll rip the floor apart when it’s fired, then fall right through into the bunk beds room.”
“We need to bolt it to a beam underneath,” said Chris. “If we do both machine guns, bolt ‘em to the side beams up yonder. But we got nothing to do that with.”
“Can’t we build some kind of mount?”
“If we had something to do that with.”
Peter said, “What about using one of the skiffs?”
“It already mounted to the skiff,” said Chris.
“No. Rip the skiff apart and use its parts.”
Chris and Matt turned their heads to look toward a skiff. The side of the Molly blocked the view to the smaller boat rafted below. They thought it over.
“I think that’s possible,” Matt said to Chris.
“Could work. We got the tools. But some need electricity.”
Peter said, “Once we get the juice flowing again, you guys get to it.”
Chapter Two - One Step Forward
1.
BOB set to the west. A beautiful sunset, but it meant the loss of light. They worked harder to get the wiring finished to catch the last of it.
“Try it, Pheebs,” Peter said through the radio.
She sat in the captain’s chair. “C’mon, baby.” She turned the key. A starter engine sound. The engines turned over and roared into life. Cheers across the boat.
“Microwave beeped,” Helen yelled from the cabin.
“We do awesome work,” exclaimed Eric.
“Did the fridge come on?” Peter asked.
A moment as Helen checked. “Yes.”
In the wheelhouse, much of the console remained dark. “Peter, not everything came back on.”
He lowered the doors to the engine. “On my way.”
The CB and HAM radios worked, but both were dead air.
Peter came up.
“See? Most of it is dark.”
He leaned past her and pushed buttons. He smelled of grease and sweat. “Crap. A lot of it got fried. Why is the fish finder working?”
Mullen sat on the interior stairs top step. “Because we threw it in the Faraday cage garbage can. But we didn’t get the rest.”
“Okay.”
“The sonar was protected by being under the metal line.”
“No GPS. We can find fish but won’t know where the hell we are.”
“You didn’t get a satellite for the GPS. Even if the GPS wasn’t burnt out, the satellite for it is fried. You got antennas for the radios.”
“Antennas were easy to find. But I got a good old fashion compass and paper charts. Babe, can I have the chair?”
“Yes, Captain. I stand relieved.”
He sat. “Pray the lights work.” He flipped switches. “Fuck!”
“It’s too late to work on them,” said Mullen.
“Without exterior lights, we can’t go into port.”
“We missed something in the rewiring.”
“I want that fifty cal ready before we head in. God knows what’s next.”
Phebe pointed to the fish finder. “Is that a large school of fish? Or a big shark?”
Mullen got up and came over. He leaned over Peter as both studied it.
“It’s not moving,” he said.
“Look at its outline,” Peter said.
“A boat?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a sunken boat?” Phebe asked.
“Look.” Mullen pointed. “We’re starting to see another one as we drift.”
“The military really did sink boats then?” she asked.
“Looks like it,” answered Peter. “Or else pirates did it. Somebody did it. A boat graveyard is down there.”
“Years from now,” she said. “Somebody will dive down there. It’ll be a thing.”
Mullen said, “A new reality show.
“Look.” Peter grew excited. “You see that? A shark just passed between us and the sunk boat. Wicked.”
2.
The water heater fried. No showers unless one wanted it ice-cold. Some of the sweaty, greasy people opted for a sponge bath with cold water.
Houseboat women figured out a meal via hibachi and microwave. The stove and oven did not work. While they ate inside, the group ate on the back deck. Dock Cat braved exiting the cabin to check on what they were doing. Bored with them, she jumped on the gunwale. Her body language spoke surprise at not seeing the dock.
“It’s okay, she-beast.” Peter pet her. Her body rose to his hand. She walked back and forth to receive full petting. He bent and kissed her on the top of her head. He then went to the stern and stripped down to his boxer briefs.
“What are you doing?” Phebe demanded.
But it was too late. He dove into the water.
“Peter!” She rushed to the side and scanned the dark water for him and dorsal fins. When he didn’t immediately come up, she panicked. “Somebody go in after him.”
“That crazy motherfucker,” roared Chris.
Matt said, “Just wait. If he’s in trouble, I’ll go in.”
Mullen brought a powerful flashlight. “Here.”
“Turn it on,” she ordered.
“But …”
“Gimme it.” She turned it on and scanned the water.
Splashing sound. She located his head with the beam.
“Get outta the water. Right. Now.”
“Why?” He swam around. “Can’t take a shower.”
“Get out!”
He laughed and swam to the stern ladder. “Get the light outta my eyes, babe.” He pulled himself out. “You could get me a towel.”
Eric brought a towel. He handed it down to him. A smile on his face. “That was cool.”
“See?” Peter rubbed his head with the towel. “Nothing to worry about, babe.”
“You!” She stormed off.
“You’re in trouble,” Eric said to him.
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’m getting that. Thinking I shouldn’t tell her a shark bumped me.”
“Probably not.” He smiled at Peter.
In the cabin, she took a shot of rum.
“I’m cold.” He hurried to his bedroom.
“Why are you naked and wet?” Syanna demanded.
“I’m not naked,” he said. “But if you don’t turn away, I will be in a second.”
“I don’t want to see that.”
Peter laughed.
When he returned to the galley, dressed, hair still wet, Phebe crossed her arms.
“Don’t be pissed.”
“That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen in my life.”
Everyone in the living room listened. They sat on the couch and floor in the glow of candlelight.
“I survived.”
“There are sharks all over the place.”
“They eat dead people. I move too much.”
“Please, do not do that again.”
“Okay. I had to get clean. But okay.” He stepped forward to move in on her, then turned and looked at the audience. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I’ll make it up to you.” And kissed her cheek.
She tried not to smile, wanting to remain angry with him.
“You’re a crazy man.”
He shrugged. “I know, babe.”
“Matt would have gone in after you.”
“He’s crazy too. You know when he had five minutes off from all the double AA personality shit he did, he did extreme sports. He’s jumped off bridges and shit.”
“I’m sure you have, too.”
“Goes without saying. He needed someone to go with him. Once the leg could do shit, ya know.” He smiled. “C’mon, babe. We have jumped out of perfectly good airplanes solely because someone told us to.”
She shook her head.
“We fast roped from helicopters for a living.”
“So now you’ve added to your resume: 'swimming with sharks who have grown used to eating humans' .”
He shrugged. “Guess so. Somebody has to do it.”
She punched his shoulder.
“You need to work on that, babe. You hit like a girl. Push-ups. I’ll think of sexual positions where you can do push-ups.”
“Argh!” She walked away from him.
DAY ELEVEN
Chapter One - Home?
The Molly entered the bay, a .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the bow, running lights functioning, wiring jimmy-rigged throughout, and a USMC skiff in tow.
The sun hung low in the western sky.
Everyone collected on the hangout deck. Entering the marina, they pointed out docked boats that had sunk. Other boats appeared banged up from hitting pylons.
“What happened to those boats?” Tyler asked.
“We happened to them.” Peter slowed the trawler in approach to the dock.
Mullen came up. “Wow. Look at all the wreckage.”
“How did we do that?” asked Tyler.
“There’s a reason for a speed limit through a marina. This happens when you go really fast in a big boat.” Peter laughed. “Wicked, huh?”
“I’d be pissed if those were my boats.”
Mullen said, “We’ll burn sage if their ghosts show up.”
“Sage?”
“Clears bad energy.”
Tyler gave him a confused look.
“Never mind.”
The Molly moved at a crawl as Peter steered to the end of the dock. A soft bump of the floating dock. He reversed for a second, then cut off the engine.
Matt and Ben jumped off with the ropes while Phebe and Chris lowered fenders.
“We’re home,” said Peter.
“Doesn’t feel like home anymore,” Mullen said.
“What’s all over the dock?” Tyler asked.
“Gas dust and dead birds.”
“Is it safe?”
“Don’t lick any of it.”
“I wouldn’t lick a dead bird.”
Peter laughed. “It’s always a good rule to live by, Ty.”
Matt pushed the dock stairs into position. His voice on the radio, “Pull the skiff by its rope and walk it to an empty slip.”
Peter remained in the captain’s chair. He fussed with the console.
The retirees bee-lined for the Martino houseboat.
“She dead in there,” Chris said to Phebe on the floating dock. “That woman.”
“Vera Martino?”
He shrugged. “Whatever her name.”
Kenny walked the dock. He stopped at his boat slip. Turned around and looked at other boats.
“Lost something, Kenny?” Chris smirked.
“Where’s my boat?”
“Hey, Matt, where’s Kenny’s boat?”
Matt laughed. “Gotta dive down to get it.”
“Did y’all sink my boat?”
“Not us, man. It was on fire when we got here.” When Chris said fire, it sounded like fir.
Kenny looked at the water where his boat should have been. He sniffled.
“He gonna cry,” Chris told her.
Women’s upset voices from the Martino houseboat.
“Here it come. Got another civvie death to deal with. Gonna be a pain in the ass.”
Helen returned to the dock. She wiped at tears.
“You okay?” he called to her.
She sighed. “Did she commit suicide via the gas or was she too drunk to wake up?”
He shrugged. “Wish I had an answer for you.”
Hank came out of the Martino boat. He put his arm around his wife and they strolled to their houseboat. Helen’s head on his shoulder. They stepped over dead bird bodies.
Tyler used his sneaker toe to nudge the brown pelican into the water.
“Isn’t that going to kill the fish?” Mullen looked at Eric.
“Didn’t the water receive its own dosage?”
"That's different than fish eating the gassed bodies."
“Best course would be to gather the bodies and burn them.”
Tyler squatted over the side. “There’s dead fish.”
Eric and Mullen joined him.
“Yup, it received its own dosage,” said Mullen. “You were right, Eric.”
“This is an ecological disaster. I can’t believe they were permitted to do this. We have wetland sanctuaries here.”
“Not anymore,” said Chris. “We got just death now. But, tell y’all what, a nuke would’ve been a real disaster for nature.”
“Actually, the wildlife around Chernobyl recovered better than expected,” said Mullen.
“Isn’t it a nature preserve now?” Eric asked.
“I believe so.”
Chris leaned his head down to Phebe. “How come they sound more geek than you?”
“You really want me to answer that? There may be an insult toward you in there.”
“Then, no, don’t answer.” He smirked at her, then elbowed her. She stepped forward to keep balance.
Peter’s voice through the radio, “Go check out the fence line.”
“Roger that,” responded several voices.
Phebe followed. The fence was preferable to dealing with mourning retirees or Kenny weeping at his boat slip.
The air smelled worse the further inland she walked. She lifted her shirt collar over her nose.
DAY TWELVE
Chapter One - Everyone’s Gone Mental
1.
Another funeral. Another body to the sharks. But it wasn’t Peter who took Vera Martino’s body out. Hank and Helen volunteered. They would not bury the woman in the sand beyond the fence. The heavy rainstorms had eroded much of the sand over Bubba’s grave. A dog dug up an arm. They put the old man’s decaying body in with some zoms and dumped them in the ocean. But they did not tell the others.
“Are you alright with that?” Peter asked the couple.
Tyler asked, “Can I go too? I wanna see sharks.”
“I’ll be fine,” Helen answered.
Hank said to Tyler, “If you want to go, we can teach you how to drive the skiff.”
“Awesome!”
“He’s a child, Hank,” Helen said.
“I’m a retired financial advisor.”
“I think that’s different than a child seeing a body of someone we knew being eaten by sharks. Don’t you?”
“Honey, I don’t know anymore. I mean, we are going to feed sharks someone we knew.”
She touched his arm. "There's too much death."
By the time the skiff was ready to go with the body wrapped in a sheet, two more young guys showed up with Tyler. Mullen and Eric wanted to see the sharks up close too. The skiff left. Hank and Tyler the armed guards of the journey.
“We’ve all gone crazy,” Peter told Chris.
“You mean they have. We already crazy, son.”
“Let’s pull a car battery and make sure the gas pump still works. We’ll need to refuel.” He raised his volume, “You guys check the water faucet. We need the tanks refilled.”
Peter and Chris just reached the parking lot when Julio reported the bad news.
“The water’s running brown.”
Peter sighed, hands on narrow hips. He shook his head. Into a handheld radio, “Siphon from the other boat’s water tanks.”
“We’ll figure it out,” responded Julio.
2.
Phebe backed up Mazy. They entered the Martino houseboat.
“You have to help,” said Mazy. “You cannot sit here.”
“We’re in mourning for our friend,” said Mrs. Beasley.
Mrs. Isley, the woman with cancer, lay on the couch. She did not look well.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Mazy said. "But both of you, Grace and Mrs. Beasley, have to help. It's survival."
“My mom is too weak.”
“I didn’t say your mom. You can check on her between your work.”
“What do you want us to do?” asked Mrs. Beasley.
“We’re stripping this boat for supplies.”
“Now?” asked Mrs. Beasley. “Can’t that wait?”
“We could be attacked again.”
“Tell us what to do,” said Grace.
DAY THIRTEEN
Chapter One - Treasures and the Living Dead
1.
Syanna sat on the hangout deck under a rigged canopy to protect her from the rain. “Ow!”
“Keep squeezing the ball, Sye.”
