Omega Days (Book 2): Ship of the Dead by Campbell John L

Author:Campbell, John L. [Campbell, John L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: zombies
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

This is stupid, Carney thought. What made us think we could do this? The Nimitz was a city-sized labyrinth packed with horrors, an unfamiliar and unfriendly territory, and they had thought the zombies would simply line up in neat rows awaiting execution? A professional SWAT or SEAL team would train for months before attempting this, and they would have solid information and logistical support. This was not a task for a bunch of frightened amateurs.

TC was staring at him with a cocked eyebrow and a half smile. They were in a long compartment where the walls were covered in blue, white, and purple pipes; steam valves; and seemingly miles of aluminum conduit. Scattered light bars revealed shadowy mechanical equipment, giant reels of the arresting cable used to stop aircraft as they landed on the deck, and a spare catapult piston as long as a city bus.

“Whatcha thinking about?” asked TC. He had slung his auto shotgun, which looked oddly like a six-shooter only with a much larger cylinder capable of handling many more shells, in favor of a four-foot steel wrench. It looked heavy enough that an average person would need both hands to use it, but the muscled inmate carried it in a casual, one-handed grip as if it were as light as a yardstick. “Something’s cooking in there,” he said.

Carney looked at his cellmate in annoyance. TC frustrated him, dangerous one moment, charming and likable the next. Carney had to remind himself that it was the dangerous side that ruled the man. “Just thinking, is all,” Carney said.

“About Mexico maybe?” TC said, nodding slowly. “We could do it, man. I’ve been thinking about the boats, that one we took from the boatyard. I bet it’s big enough to handle the ocean, or at least the coast.”

Carney thought about the big Bayliner, with its full fuel tank and deck packed with supplies. The assault group had loaded both it and the patrol boat with food, water, and ammo, thinking they could use the boats as a fallback position if things got too hairy inside the aircraft carrier. The thirty-two-foot Bayliner could handle open water. Fuel would be a problem eventually, but there were sure to be plenty of marinas on the way down the California coast.

“We could just slip away,” TC said, moving in close, the trusted cellmate once more. “No one would know. We don’t owe these people shit, man.”

Mexico, Carney thought. Sun and sand. The idea had really just been something to keep TC’s mind occupied, to prevent him from going wild with his newfound freedom. Carney had never actually considered it a serious possibility. Had he?

A distant echo of gunfire made Carney start, but TC rested a hand on the other man’s arm. “It’s just those assholes who ran out on us, getting into some shit. Let them. It keeps the zombies busy and off our ass.”

Carney looked through one of the compartment’s wide openings and out into a dark corridor. The hollow booming of a shotgun sounded ghostly, and then it was gone.

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